Eight Times More Power

The following morning, Helmarte Soap Works felt different.

The factory sounded different.

The factory smelled different.

And somehow, the entire place felt alive.

The steady creaking of the old waterwheel was gone.

In its place came a new rhythm.

Hiss.

Clank.

Hiss.

Clank.

The sound traveled from the engine house and echoed through the factory grounds.

Inside the production hall, workers moved between stations while overhead shafts rotated continuously.

Belts spun.

Pulleys turned.

Mixing equipment rotated.

Cutting equipment moved.

Everything operated smoothly.

Ernest stood near the center of the production floor, looking upward.

The line shafts turned with a consistency he had never seen before.

No slowing.

No surging.

No interruptions caused by changes in river flow.

Just steady mechanical power.

Hollen walked over, carrying a mug of tea.