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hand's dexterity is the physical manifestation of the mind's ingenuity, and these traits are essential to
the name we seek."
"We have been discreetly surveying current nomenclatoral research for any names that demonstrate
marked dexterity,” said Fieldhurst. “When we learned of what you had accomplished, we sought you
out immediately."
"In fact,” Asbourne continued, “the very reason your names are worrisome to sculptors is the reason
we are interested in them: they endow automata with a more humanlike manner than any before. So
now we ask, will you join us?"
Stratton considered it. This was perhaps the most important task a nomenclator could undertake, and
under ordinary circumstances he would have leapt at the opportunity to participate. But before he
could embark upon this enterprise in good conscience, there was another matter he had to resolve.
"You honor me with your invitation, but what of my work with dexterous automata? I still firmly
believe that inexpensive engines can improve the lives of the labouring class."
"It is a worthy goal,” said Fieldhurst, “and I would not ask you to give it up. Indeed, the first thing we
wish you to do is to perfect the epithets for dexterity. But your efforts at social reform would be for
naught unless we first ensure the survival of our species."
"Obviously, but I do not want the potential for reform that is offered by dexterous names to be
neglected. There may never be a better opportunity for restoring dignity to common workers. What
kind of victory would we achieve if the continuation of life meant ignoring this opportunity?"
"Well said,” acknowledged the earl. “Let me make a proposal. So that you can best make use of your
time, the Royal Society will provide support for your development of dexterous automata as needed:
securing investors and so forth. I trust you will divide your time between the two projects wisely.
Your work on biological nomenclature must remain confidential, obviously. Is that satisfactory?"
"It is. Very well then, gentlemen: I accept.” They shook hands.
* * * *
Some weeks had passed since Stratton last spoke with Willoughby, beyond a chilly exchange of
greetings in passing. In fact, he had little interaction with any of the union sculptors, instead spending
his time working on letter permutations in his office, trying to refine his epithets for dexterity.
He entered the manufactory through the front gallery, where customers normally perused the
catalogue. Today it was crowded with domestic automata, all the same model char-engine. Stratton
saw the clerk ensuring they were properly tagged.
"Good morning, Pierce,” he said. “What are all these doing here?"
"An improved name is just out for the ‘Regent',” said the clerk. “Everyone's eager to get the latest."