Chapter 20
Preparations to build the workshop began as the nineteenth century was drawing to a close.
I thought the first thing we needed to build a workshop was machinery, but what we actually needed was paperwork.
The Imperial Household Office said that since the workshop was an educational facility for the princess, it should be built with imperial funds. The Army Ministry argued that if we were developing a military pistol, it was a military facility and should be controlled by the Army. Mauser said that before providing its engineers and plans, it needed to decide how production rights and patent rights to the pistol would be divided.
Each organization wanted the authority that came with responsibility, but wanted to shift the costs and liability for accidents onto someone else.
When I attended the first meeting, I couldn’t say a word. I’d never experienced anything like it in my previous life, either.
Officials, officers, and legal counsel sat on either side of a long table, each with different documents spread out in front of them.
“If the purpose of this facility is Her Highness’s technical education, there’s no basis for using the Army’s budget.”
“However, if the subject of development is a military firearm, we can’t provide weapons-related materials to a private facility belonging to the Imperial Family.”
“If Mauser provides engineers and existing plans, then Mauser must be guaranteed rights to use the technology and priority in production commensurate with its contribution.”
“We can’t promise exclusive production rights to a pistol that hasn’t even been made yet just because you’ve sent us engineers.”
I looked at the person who had said that last part.
He was an imperial legal counsel with a gray beard.
“I drew it. Doesn’t that mean I invented it?”
He carefully steepled his fingers as he answered my question.
“Even if Your Highness came up with it independently, you can’t obtain a new patent for a structure that has already been made public. And if a structure is still protected by a valid patent, it may be difficult to produce it without the rights holder’s permission.”
“What if there’s a similar pistol? Doesn’t that mean I invented it?”
“The fact that you invented something is separate from whether you can claim exclusive rights to it or produce it freely. However, an improvement Your Highness makes to an existing design may be recognized as a separate invention.”
I thought of the M1911 from my previous life.
The slide, the magazine in the grip, the short-recoil locking mechanism, the link, the safety.
Those mechanisms didn’t cease to exist in this era just because I’d seen them in the future. Browning, Borchardt, Luger, and Mauser had already developed their own automatic pistols.
‘Surely not every part of it belongs to someone else from the start.’
I started to feel uneasy.
“Do I just need to check the copyrights?”
The legal counsel smiled faintly.
“For mechanical designs, we generally talk about patents rather than copyrights.”
‘Is that so?’
The meeting went on for two hours without reaching a resolution. Finally, Dr. Schneider, who was there as the person in charge of the princess’s education, couldn’t stand it any longer and went up to the blackboard.
“What if we separate the different purposes?”
He wrote down several purposes in chalk and explained.
“The Imperial Family can lease and manage the facility, but it should be located in an industrial district near Berlin. The Army will oversee safety and live-fire testing. Mauser will send engineers, and we’ll keep a record distinguishing the existing technology the company provides from anything newly developed.”
“Then what about production rights?”
The Mauser representative asked.
“That’s a matter to decide once it’s finished.”
“Does that mean the company could invest its people and time and still not receive production rights?”
“But we can’t assign all the results to the company in advance, either.”
The argument started all over again.
I grew more and more tired. We were arguing over who the pistol belonged to before we’d even made one.
“I haven’t even fired a single shot yet.”
The meeting room fell silent at my words.
“We don’t even know exactly what we’re going to develop. Is there any point deciding who gets to make it first?”
The legal counsel answered.
“If it doesn’t work, no one wants to own it. If it does, everyone does. That’s why we decide beforehand.”
It was irritating, but he was right.
After a long argument, we finally drew up a provisional agreement.
The facility and its workshop records would belong to the Imperial Family.
The Army would oversee military materials and the results of live-fire testing.
Any existing technology brought in by Mauser would remain Mauser’s property.
For any new designs developed in the workshop, the development process and contributors would be recorded, and patent filings and licensing rights would be reviewed separately for each design.
The company for mass production would be chosen through competition and negotiation after testing was complete.
It wasn’t a perfect answer, but thanks to this agreement, we could at least get the workshop started.
The day the meeting ended was also the day we were preparing for my eldest brother—Wilhelm’s—eighteenth birthday.
The palace had been full since morning of people carrying uniforms, medals, and invitations. My eldest brother was given a new military rank and a schedule of duties as Crown Prince.
I saw him trying on his formal uniform in the hallway.
“Does it suit me?”
My eldest brother noticed me looking at him and asked.
“You have too many medals.”
“Father said I should wear even more.”
“I thought so.”
I shook my head, wondering if they were making him a bulletproof vest or something, and he pointed to the thick folder in my hands.
“Is that your birthday present?”
“No, it’s the workshop agreement.”
“Isn’t it strange for a twelve-year-old to carry an agreement around?”
“I don’t think someone who became a second lieutenant at ten is in a position to call me strange.”
When I answered with a pout, my eldest brother chuckled.
“Are you jealous?”
I started to answer, then stopped.
It wasn’t the uniform or being a soldier that I envied.
I envied the fact that the role expected of him was similar to the one I wanted for myself.
Every time I tried to build a single workshop, I had to explain why I needed to learn about machines and design guns.
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I don’t want your position, big brother.”
“Then what?”
I held up the folder and said,
“I want people to recognize that the work I do is something a member of the Imperial Family can do, too.”
My eldest brother thought for a moment, then pressed down on my head with his palm.
“Then build it well. Once you get results, Father will be prouder than anyone.”
“Ugh... Don’t push down on my head.”
“It’s encouragement from the Crown Prince.”
“I don’t need it.”
At the evening banquet, Father gave a speech about how my eldest brother was the future of Germany.
After the banquet, Father called me over.
“I found a place.”
“For the workshop?”
“There’s a closed precision machine factory on the outskirts of Spandau, west of Berlin. It’s close to the arsenal and the railway, and only a few hours away from the palace by carriage.”
I was about to say yes right away, but Father raised a hand before I could.
“You haven’t even seen the building yet.”
“Then I’ll see it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow you have to attend your brother’s event.”
“The day after, then.”
“You have French lessons.”
“After my lessons.”
Father laughed.
“You’re really in a hurry.”
“I’ve spent three months looking at nothing but paperwork.”
Once the building had been tentatively chosen, a new issue came up at the budget meeting.
An Imperial Household Office official suggested reddish wood furniture, brass fittings, and a marble plaque so the princess’s research facility would be presentable to foreign dignitaries. Father seemed interested in having a large Imperial Eagle engraved on it.
But when I saw the cost estimate, I crossed out every decorative item.
“With that money, we could get another workbench or buy measuring instruments.”
“An imperial facility needs a certain degree of dignity.”
“Dignity or not, what matters is that the machines work properly.”
The Imperial Household official looked shocked by that.
The Mauser representative pointed out that a used lathe whose condition hadn’t been checked might have worn shafts and bearings, making it impossible to guarantee precision. In the end, we decided to buy a new small precision lathe and measuring instruments for the most important work, while repairing and using the drill, grinder, and workbenches that were still usable among the equipment left behind at the closed factory.
That process made the purpose of the workshop clear once more. It wasn’t a princess’s room meant to impress people, but a real workshop where failed parts could be machined and measured.
Father finally gave in on the condition that we put only a small imperial emblem at the entrance instead of a marble plaque.
When I first asked for a workshop, I thought that once we had the machines, I’d be able to make a pistol right away. But after seeing how things worked firsthand, I realized how much needed to be decided before the machines even arrived.
The location, the budget, who would supervise, liability for accidents, who owned the technology and patents, and so on... In my previous life, professors, administrative offices, safety departments, and industry liaison staff would have shared out those tasks. Back then, I’d only complained when the paperwork took too long, but now that I was responsible for it myself, I understood why so many people had been involved.
After showing me the new military saber he’d received for his birthday, my eldest brother playfully signed the last page of my copy of the agreement. It said “Crown Prince, Witness,” though his signature had no legal effect.
“If your pistol succeeds someday, I’ll say I supported you from the very beginning.”
“And if it fails?”
“Then I’ll say I was against it.”
He laughed and handed the document back to me.
On the cover of my personal folder, where I kept the copy, I wrote ‘Pistol Development No. 0’. There wasn’t a single gun part in it, but looking back later, this agreement might have been the workshop’s first component.