Ballpen

He looked up at me thoughtfully.

“Yes, mister,” I nodded, answering the unspoken question. “I am a human being. And I need a consultation.”

The earth pony was looking at me thoughtfully at a massive green baize desk. On the desk was a huge pile of seals, quills, books, ledgers, folders and scrolls, trying to crawl onto the floor. Behind the pony, in the giant oak cabinets on either side of the office, even more papers were visible through the half-open doors.

"Lemon has already informed me that you are not a pony," he said thoughtfully. "What are you wondering about, some complications with Equestria's immigration laws? Your species is subject to a number of special regulations of the Diarchy and the Throne of Friendship, so I..."

I shook my head, tearing the pony away.

“Not exactly, sir. I would like some advice on starting a business.”

The pony whistled.

“Business? It's not often that humans come to me with such a request. To tell the truth, you are the first representative of your species who come to me for a consultation...”

“Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?”

The pony grinned.

“Well, mister, state your question. By the way, what is your name?”

“Evgeniy Komarov.”

“Pleased to meet you. Paper Stamp, senior attorney at Stamp & Stamp solicitor agency." the pony stood up and extended a hoof across the table. "Have a seat."

I sank into a soft chair. I put the memorable folder with which I traveled around the workshops on the first day of my enterprise on the cloth.

“You see, my pony friends and I want to open a production of some items of human use in Manehattan. This is a new business, and we are not familiar enough with Equestrian laws. That is why we decided to consult a professional.”

“Human usage?” Paper whistled. “Sounds interesting. Well, go on.”

In about ten minutes I had described the nature of our enterprise to the solicitor. Motes of dust swirled in the sunlight around the pony's head as he studied with interest the outlines that constituted our business plan for the day. A pile of scrolls and tubes trembled dangerously on a nearby cabinet, as if they were about to roll onto the table and bury us both. Occasionally the pony would make some marks on a small scroll with a pencil as I spoke.

Paper looked up thoughtfully.

“One minute,” he said, without looking, extending his hoof to the right, opening the cabinet door and, without looking, tearing a massive reference book with gilded embossing from the shelf.

He opened it wide, showering me with a cloud of dust.

“Quills,” he muttered thoughtfully, turning the pages. “Quills, quills… Quality assessments, quilts… Aha, here it is!”

He bookmarked the page.

"You did the right thing by coming for a consultation, Mr. Komarov," the pony declared. "I already see one weak point in your plan."

“Which?”

“Quills.”

I expected more.

“In accordance with the decree of H.M. Princess Celestia of the year 857 of the Sun Era, quills, pencils, ink and inkwells, sand and blotting paper, sealing wax and penknives are among the goods for which the trading house Whitefeather & Co. has been granted a privilege of royal banalites. If you call your products “quills”, you will be able to sell them only with the permission of the holder of the privilege and by paying him a commission. At least in the territory of Manehattan, Fillydelphia and Canterlot with the adjacent lands.”

I cleared my throat.

“Paper Stamp, as I said, I am not very good at your laws. What is the "privilege of royal banalites"?”

The pony chuckled.

“You're not the only one. Many ponies don't consider it necessary to understand the intricacies of commercial law.

In ancient Unicornia, the royal banalites was the right of the ruling family to monopolize trade in certain services on their lands. Later, with the unification of the tribes, this was the name given to the permission granted by the Sun Throne to sell certain goods and services on certain lands of Equestria. For example, the Apple family was granted the right to exclusively sell cider and apple jam on lands adjacent to their family estates a hundred years ago.”

I could only shake my head.

“Strange system. What about free trade and all that?”

The pony shrugged.

"It's not just a privilege, but also a number of additional obligations. Banalites holders are usually subject to an additional tax in favor of the crown, plus they are required to support a certain number of jobs, make contributions to city budgets... In general, the system is discordly complex, periodically there are calls in the state council for its revision, and I would have to spend several hours explaining it in detail. For you, it is enough that you will have to pay for the right to trade quills in Manehattan..." he looked at the directory again, "about eight hundred and fifty bits per month, if at the minimum rate.

I tried to keep a professional expression on my face.

“Is this the only option?”

The pony became thoughtful.

“There is a workaround. You can change the name so that it does not fall under the existing restrictions. Of course, there is still a risk that Whitefeather will demand payment from you in court, but such a claim will be quite easy to challenge. Especially if your product is protected by a separate patent.”

To scratch my head.

“We called these things «pens» or «ballpens». An automatic quill…”

“Get rid of the quills,” Paper advised. “And the pencils and leads, too. Find something else.”

“Hmm... Stylus?”

“Just a second,” the lawyer leafed through the directory. “Well, styluses are not included in the list of goods subject to the privilege. I think you can use this one.”

I nodded. I made a note in my own notebook.

“Excellent. What other nuances? In general, could you describe the entire procedure for me?”

“You should choose a tax system and apply to the City Hall for registration of a commercial enterprise. How do you plan to register? As a company with a pass-through tax or with a corporate tax?”

“What's the difference?”

“With a pass-through tax, you pay income tax only on your personal dividends, with a corporate tax - both on profits and on dividends. But with a pass-through tax, your company is additionally charged a twelve percent social tax for each employee. At the same time, with a pass-through tax, you have the right to attract new owners or sell your share only with the consent of the other members, and with a corporate tax - by decision of the managing body.”

I frowned. The pony's explanations were somehow familiar from my previous life. It's a pity that I was still too poorly versed in the intricacies of all sorts of VAT and personal income tax...

“That is, the fewer employees a company has, the more profitable the pass-through tax?”

Paper nodded.

“Yes. That is why small companies usually use the first scheme. Among other things, it requires a significantly smaller volume of reporting.

You can also register as a private trader. The amount of taxes is limited to an annual fee and social payment for hired workers. The downside is that it is much more difficult to attract investors, and if you get into debt, you will be liable with all your property. Although you are registered as an immigrant on bail? Then this is not an option for you, unless you agree with one of the ponies to take responsibility for your business.”

“I think we will use the first scheme. Can I register as a foreigner there?”

“Yes, if you live in Equestria for at least a month. A reasonable decision.”

“And then...”

“You have to come to the city hall with your friends. You will sign a partnership agreement and receive a registration sheet. With it, you can open a bank account and rent space for production and trade. Then...” the pony scribbled something in a notebook. “Are you going to conduct retail trade?”

“It is quite possible.”

“Then immediately upon registration, or as soon as you rent or purchase a place and equip trading areas, submit an application to the mayor's office for an inspection. The Royal Inspector will inspect your enterprise and issue a permit for trade. Next... So, since you are going to trade items from the human world, you need to contact the Committee for the Implementation of Earth Developments. They will review your application and decide whether your activities are permissible in Equestria, after which they will submit it to the princess for approval.”

“What could possibly be unacceptable about it?” I asked in surprise.

“I am not Her Highness,” the attorney spread his hooves. “The new writing instrument, to me, does not look dangerous. But they say that sometimes their decisions seem non-obvious. They say that once the princess imposed a ban on the earthly model of the abacus.”

“Okay,” so, Zhenyok, let’s solve problems in the order they arise, “What else should I know?”

“Patent. You also can register it at the city hall, if you have a technical description and samples on hand - even on the first day after registration. There are two types of patents - full and limited. With a full patent, in addition to a thousand-bit fee, you are required to pay a hundred and twenty-bit tax annually, but the patent is retained for the next fifty years. With a limited patent, the privilege expires after ten years, but you do not pay tax.”

I thought about it.

“Listen. What if, purely theoretically, I filed a patent for a mechanical quills, and the company you were talking about had the privilege to sell the quills?”

The pony smiled slightly.

“It's hard to say without reading the specific wording. But in general, I think you would mutually block each other's right to trade these things. Then, most likely, the matter would be referred to Her Highness for consideration, after which she would, by royal will, annul one of the documents, possibly with compensation.”

I chuckled.

“How complicated everything is for you. Of course, patent law on Earth is not the simplest either...”

“Well. As I said, this system is hundreds of years old. And on the one hand, it is periodically required to be revised, on the other hand, it works, more or less. Where did we stop?”

“Patent.”

“Oh, yes. In principle, from the moment you receive it, you can start trading. Generally speaking, you can start it from the moment you receive permission from the committee and inspection, but with a patent in hand, you will have fewer difficulties with competitors.”

“Great. Is there anything else I should know?”

The solicitor grinned.

"For ten bits I can offer you this brochure," he handed me a bright, colorful booklet with the inscription on the cover "Starting a Business for the First Time: A Young Trader's Handbook!" "And for two thousand a month, Stamp & Stamp will take on the legal and tax support of your company.

“Do you accept cash?”

“Of course. Just pay at the cash desk at the entrance.”

“I'll take it. As for the escort... May I ask for your business card? Perhaps we'll resort to it in the future.”

“Here you go,” Stamp handed me a velvet business card with gold embossing.

“Thanks for the consultation, Paper.”

“Glad to help, Mr. Komarov.”

Alyatara was waiting for me in a café a couple of blocks away from the metro station. On the table, on a small bamboo napkin with a coloring in the form of moons, suns and stars, there was a forgotten ice cream and a cup of coffee, and the unicorn herself was immersed in reading. That same book with a pegasus in a cork helmet, which I had seen her with on my second day in Equestria.

A light rain was falling – I remembered that in the morning I had seen a warning on the entrance doors about the pegasi organizing the evening watering of the city flower beds in the block. I winced, feeling the blows of cold drops, and quickened my pace.

“Knock-knock!” I tapped my finger on the edge of the table.

“Oh!” Alyatara jumped up and slammed the book shut. “I didn't even notice you!”

“How are you doing?” I sat down next to him.

“I left a little early today and stopped by the bank. They promised to review my loan application within two days, but their employee said that my chances look pretty good! Plus I have some savings…”

I grimaced.

“I still have the feeling that I'm driving you into debt.”

“Come on! Evgeniy, we agreed. This is our common cause and common profit! And anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained!”

I sighed.

"I also spoke to Remy Engrave, our typographic chemist!" Aliatara continued enthusiastically. "She was very interested in my story, and she agreed to meet with us today to discuss the refill tests!"

“That's really good news! I was just thinking...”

“Yes?”

“I think before we tell her the details, we should have signed a trade secret agreement or something like that. Damn it, I should have asked the attorney right away how you formalize it. Bronze, okay, he's investing in the materials and equipment himself, and he's an interested party... And even then...”

Alyatara's hoof rested on my palm.

“Evgeniy, don't worry. I explained to Remy that this is a new case, and it's better to keep quiet about it, so that competitors don't find out. She gave her word of honor that she would keep quiet.

I couldn't help but smile.

“The word?”

“The word. Look, I understand why you're worried. But this isn't your world, Evgeniy, believe me. In these things, you can rely on a pony's word!”

I sighed, but didn't contradict the unicorn. I stole coffee from Alyatara and took a sip.

“When did you say your friend should arrive?”

“Yes, almost here... Oh! Remy, hi!”

A blue pony with a purple mane sat down on a nearby stool, her rump adorned with the image of a black drop.

“Hello, Alyatara. You must be Mr. Komarov?”

“That's it. And you're Remy?”

“Yes. Let's get down to business. I listened to the general outline of your idea with our artist. An interesting concept.”

Alyatara raised her hoof.

“Evgeny, Remy! I suggest we order a cup of coffee before we get down to the discussion. The waiters are already giving us sideways glances!”

I suspected that the waiters were looking at us sideways not only and not so much because of the occupied table, but because of me, but I didn’t object.

She gestured to one of the staff, and soon a menu was laid on the table. Alyatara and Remy took coffee and doughnuts, I limited myself to a cup of tea – my finances, after paying for a consultation at Stamp and Stamp, were already bottomed, and there were still a few days left until payday.

The earth pony, after a questioning glance in my direction and my nod, pulled the folder towards herself. She looked thoughtfully at the drawing of the tip made by Bronze - much more perfect than my sketches.

She winced as darkness thickened around her. About ten seconds passed, the firefly lamps on the tables filled with light, but the pony still had to bend over the sheet, peering at the lines and numbers.

“The capillary effect…” she drawled. “Is that the exact diameter?”

“We don’t know yet how the sizes should relate,” I admitted. “We planned to make several tips of different sizes and experiment with the compositions. Until we achieve the desired effect.”

“The desired effect?” Remi asked. “Keep in mind that you will need to wait a few days. You can't say for sure from the first stroke that the paint has gone on properly. Sometimes the first impressions - that is, in your case, the inscriptions - look great, but after the sheets have been lying around for a day or two, they start to fade, or the font starts to blur, and so on.”

I nodded.

“We know, Remy. That's why we want to involve a professional chemist.”

“It would be a good idea for a professional chemist to decide for herself what we want to do and how to achieve it. You say we need quill ink, but of a thicker consistency?”

Alyatara looked at the drawing thoughtfully. She took a sip of coffee, gracefully holding the cup with her hoof. I noticed that the handle was clearly too small, even for the tiny hooves of my companion, and thoughtfully rubbed my forehead.

Come to think of it, I've seen a lot of things that would be more appropriate for creatures with hands than hooves... Door handles. Cups. Brushes. If you hold them with hoofkinesis, the shape is useless. If you hold them with teeth, it's even uncomfortable. It feels like a lot of things around me were meant for someone with fingers...

"If only we knew what degree of thickening would be needed!" Alyatara's voice brought me back to reality. "I was thinking about paint thickeners, but you know..."

"Yeah, stuffing them into the capillary system is a sure way to ruin it," Remy agreed. "What about printing ink?"

This time, Aljatara and I shook our heads at the same time.

“Dries too quickly. Will clog the unit.”

“Well, well, well, that’s so...” Remy thoughtfully drew patterns with the edge of her hoof in a puddle of coffee. “So, a mixture that dries quickly enough to not require blotting and stay on the paper, but not fast enough to dry in the refill and tip. Liquid enough to flow freely to the ball when pressed, but not thick enough to flow out of the tip on its own. At the same time - giving a clear color of the letter and not fading too quickly. Well, I like a challenge.”

“Excellent!” Alyatara exclaimed joyfully. “Well, when shall we begin?”

I raised my hand.

“Remy, that's a sensitive issue.”

The earth pony grinned.

“And you are a businesspony… creature, Mr. Komarov.” She became serious.

“I am a specialist, and I am used to getting a decent payment for my work. Considering that we do not know how long the development will take, I have the right to expect that you will pay me no less than the printing house for the same time. Consider, from five hundred bits per week. Well, or there is another option.”

“A share in the business?” I suggested.

“Exactly. You'll still need someone to brew the ink. A quarter of the income - and I contribute with reagents and my labor. Can we shake on it?”

Aljatara and I exchanged glances.

“I don’t mind,” I said cautiously. “But we have a third companion. We need to know his opinion, too.”

The unicorn just nodded.

“Well then, I await your decision,” Remy finished her coffee and stood up. “See you at work tomorrow, Alyatara? Until next time, mister.”

The cafe door closed behind the pony. We looked at each other.

“I think it’s a reasonable request,” Aliatara said.

I nodded, rocking on the stool. I looked up at the clock. Wow! The hour hand had already crawled past a quarter past nine.

“Let’s go home?” the pony suggested.

“Yeah,” I nodded, and then I remembered something else.

“Listen. I visited the solicitor today and this is what I heard...” I briefly outlined the content of our conversation.

Alyatara's eyes widened.

"Yes, I've heard something about these cases. The Manehattan World once published an article about patent disputes..." she muttered.

“We need a new name,” I scratched my head. I drew a picture of a pen in my notebook with a pencil. I stared at it.

“ "Ballpoint styluses"? Doesn't sound right...”

“Just "Stylus"?” suggested Alyatara. “You know... some associations with antiquity. Pyramids, sphinxes, Somnambula...”

I didn’t even ask, “Sphinxes?”, my head no longer wanted to work in multitasking mode.

“"Mechanical styluses"?”

“Mechanical styluses...” muttered the pony. “We need something that come out the mouseinstantly... A stylus-mechanism... Oh! Stylomech!”

“Stylomech?” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“What is it?” I met Alyatara’s puzzled gaze.

“Well, first of all... you have a crump on your nose.”

“Oh!” the pony blushed charmingly, running her hoof over her muzzle. “And now?”

“Now it's fine. And about the stylomech - well, it sounds like... I don't know. Some kind of giant robot from Japanese porn cartoons?

“Giant who of whose what?” the unicorn asked again, puzzled.

Now I blushed, scolding myself for my uncontrolled tongue.

“Oh. Forget it. Memories of Earth, slipped out of my mouth and so on.”

“Hmm, - they measured me with a glance.” So what don't you like about "stylomech"?

I took a sip of coffee. I twirled the mug on my finger, once again marveling at the strangeness of the new world.

“Although. It's a normal name. No worse than "felt-tip" or "caliper".”

Glass clinked - Alyatara used telekinesis to lower two pot-bellied glass jars containing a dark purple liquid onto the table.

"Are you sure we should spend time on this?" she asked. "We already know what we want to achieve."

The earth pony shook her head.

“You know what you want to achieve, but I still have no idea what consistency and drying speed we need. Let's start with a standard composition, and we'll select the right one step by step.”

It’s stupid to hire a specialist if you don’t trust his skills, I remembered.

Bronze laid out on the table, on a clean linen cloth, about a dozen and a half sparkling steel refills. Nearby lay instruments, syringes, a bottle of cleaning fluid, and a stack of clean white sheets.

Remy cleared her throat.

“Alyatara, are you writing this down?” she asked, filling the tray from one of the jars. “So, the first experiment. Ink - sixth standard calligraphic, dye - nut, thickener - gum arabic, preservative - carbolic acid.”

"The tip is brass, the ball is hardened steel," Bronze continued. "The cavity width is 30 mils, the ball diameter is 20 mils, the channel thickness is approximately 5 mils."

Bronze carefully picked up the refill and clamped it in a vice. He filled the syringe, inserted a hair-thin needle from the back of it, and pressed the plunger. When a drop appeared hanging from the opposite side, he grabbed the glittering ball with tweezers and inserted it into the channel. He took the refill out of the vice to place it in a machine similar to a coffee grinder, tightened the clamps, and pressed the handle.

“Let’s check,” he handed the refill to me. I drew a few lines on the sheet. I sighed sadly.

Even with the naked eye, it was clear that the purple spot was spreading from the tip. The rod left behind a thick strip, like a felt-tip pen.

Alyatara sighed in disappointment.

“We already knew that it wouldn’t work the first time,” I encouraged her.

“Give it here,” Remi snatched the piece of paper from me and examined it carefully from both sides.

She made a few notes in her own notebook, muttering "drying", "leaking", "veininess", or something similar. She set the paper aside, marking it with a pencil with the number "1." I wiped the refill with a soft cloth and put it back with the paper.

“Experiment two. The ink is the same.”

“Tip – brass, ball – hardened steel. Cavity width – 30 mils, ball diameter – 25 mils, channel thickness – approximately 5 mils.”

Bronze repeated his manipulations of threading the refill and crimping the ball. He handed it to me.

This time the ball left a more or less clear line on the paper. Although it still looked more like a trace from a thin felt-tip pen than from a fountain pen.

“That’s something!” Alyatara exclaimed joyfully.

“Wait,” I cooled her ardor. “Let’s see how the ink behaves.”

I was right. After about thirty seconds, the pen began to leave a broken line. Then it stopped writing. I drew a few lines with pressure, but only a pressed line remained on the paper.

“Fail two.”

“Let’s continue,” Remy poured the ink into a new tray, carefully dripped something from the bottle, and stirred it. “Ink – sixth calligraphic with the addition of glycerin, two liquid drachmas per experimental volume.”

The experiments continued, the number of refills and sheets of paper on Remy's table grew. Finally, the last of the refills lay on the table. Remy thoughtfully looked at the fruits of her labor in the form of spreading purple streaks and indented lines.

“Let’s wash the refills and do the experiments again,” she ordered.

"Does it make sense?" I asked wearily. "We already know that we should start with ink, not printing ink."

Remy shook her purple bangs.

“You said yourself that your earthly potion makers keep the exact composition a secret. Let's accumulate more experimental material to increase our chances.”

Without objecting, I began pushing the balls out of the units into the finest diameter cuvettes with a feeler gauge – this was the job that suited my fingers best. Once, I made a fool of myself, almost sending two balls into one cuvette, but came to my senses after Bronze called out. Meanwhile, Alyatara, having pulled on rubber hoofgloves, washed the rods in a mixture of soda and ammonia.

“Keep in mind,” I warned, “after reloading, the strength of the units will decrease. And they will hold ink worse.”

“Yes, that's clear,” noted Bronz. “But should they withstand one cycle? These are experimental samples anyway, if necessary, we'll cast and carve new ones.”

He grabbed the first refill, forcing it into the vice.

“Experiment nineteen,” Remy picked up. “Alyatara, are you ready?”

“Ready!” the unicorn reported.

“Paint – second printing, dye – indigo, soot, grape black, base – linseed oil and rosin.”

“The tip is brass, the ball is hardened steel. The cavity width is 30 mils, the ball diameter is 20 mils, the channel thickness is approximately 5 mils…”

This time the results were much worse. As expected. Of the eighteen tested refills, only three agreed to write, the rest stubbornly clogged, either leaving no traces at all, or ceasing to work after a few dozen centimeters. And writing is an exaggeration. The lines were intermittent, in some places with thick black blots, in some places the paint, on the contrary, stubbornly did not lie on the paper.

However, Remy didn't look dissatisfied. After looking thoughtfully at the sheets of paper, she began to scribble something in her notebook.

"We should start with the ink, really," she muttered. "Increase the proportion of gum arabic, try changing the dyes... Bronze! Can we use these refills, or do you need time to make new ones?"

The earth pony pulled the monocle lens over his eye and squinted, examining the tip of the arrowhead.

“They’ll pass a couple more of these tests,” he noted. “Although… Listen, let’s worry about the new ones. We want to understand how the commercial models will behave, don’t we?”

“I swear by the Sisters, that’s true,” Remy nodded. “A couple of days will be enough for you?”

“It must be,” Bronze said judiciously.

• And during this time I will prepare the reagents and cook the first batch with the changed recipe. Well, then, shall we meet the day after tomorrow?

“And I’ll just have time to resolve the issue with the loan,” agreed Alyatara.

“Well then, see you until the day after tomorrow, friends,” I concluded.

Already on the night street, under the silvery moonlight, I realized that it was deep night outside. Three o'clock, no less.

Alyatara clicked her hooves next to me. At home I would probably be wary of walking around my native Mytishchi at such a time of day, but Manehattan, if you didn’t go into the port areas, according to Alyatara and Philip, was a completely safe city. And even in the port you had to try hard to run into trouble, especially something that went beyond a couple of bruises.

“Do you like the city at night?” the pony suddenly asked.

“The city?” I hesitated. I looked around, looked at the carved ridges of the roofs, the moldings above the windows, the dim glow of the lanterns…

“Yes. Very much so. He is not like ours.”

“How is it different?” Alyatara asked curiously.

I thought about the answer.

“Silence, Alyatara.”

“Silence?”

“Yes. Your cities are very quiet. Here, even at night, you can constantly hear the roar of engines, the noise of footsteps, as if... I don't know how to describe it. You feel the noise not even with your ears, but with your bones. Millions of people, hundreds of thousands of cars. Here... it's quiet here. And the stars,” I raised my head. “You can't see them there. The light of the city lamps, it eclipses.”

"Your cities must be beautiful in their own way," the pony said thoughtfully. "I'd like to see them."

I just shook my head. My hand twitched to pat Aljatara on the withers, but I immediately pulled it back. Damn it, I have to fight this reflex. She's a sapient creature, damn it, not a house cat!

“Maybe if we have a free weekend,” I stopped. I laughed. “What am I talking about. If we have a free weekend, we'll spend it experimenting with stylomechs.”

“What did you want to do this weekend?” she asked curiously.

“Yes, I wanted to suggest taking a walk along the embankment. You know, this is the first time I've seen the sea here.”

The unicorn laughed melodically.

“They say the best beaches in this hemisphere are on the Silver Shoals. I always wanted to visit them, but never had enough money.”

“Well, if the idea with the stylomechs works out, a trip to the resort is in order,” I promised half-jokingly.

“Then I'll really take a walk along the embankment together!” laughed Alyatara. “And keep in mind, you've sold yourself short with this exchange!”