The Spring and Pin-driven Portable Quill

From the Personal Diary of that well-known broadsheet journalist, Bede

    When Steelheart told me about it, I admit I was quite skeptical. Firstly, just what is a portable quill?   Steelheart is an Anthropologist I have made the acquaintance of on several occasions. He seems to be at the center of controversy fairly often. He makes bold claims and has attracted the interest of quite a few ladies. The bold claims are one thing; the interest of ladies can be dangerous when most of them are of the married sort. Men tend to dislike Steelheart.   I admit I like the man. He is interesting and can tell a good story. Kayfrum Steelheart lived with the Coastal Travelers for a couple of years and wrote his great anthropological work detailing his experiences whilst traveling among them, "as one of them." Coastal Travelers I ran into Steelheart a week ago while covering a lecture by the popular Anthropologist. The lecture was free to the public. When I first met him, I believed he was motivated by profit, not an unreasonable quest. But I've learned more about the man. He has a genuine interest in helping change the reputation of the Travelers. It seems Steelheart believes the Coastal Travelers have been unfairly treated by the public. That's why his lectures are free.  I never miss a lecture if he's in town, any write-ups about him raise the circulation.   After the lecture ended, Steelheart came looking for me.   I heard him shouting my name from across the room, "Bede, Bede, over here!"   The great sense of rescue and relief I felt on hearing him call to me, I attempted to turn away from the stout lady's one-sided conversation I had been feigning interest in for an extraordinary length of time. That lady's eyes lit with pleasure as she gripped my arm tightly and asked, "You know Professor Steelheart?"   I nodded and smiled at her but managed to disentangle myself from her grip and quickly made my way towards the 'Professor' to see what he had to tell me. Steelheart could always be counted on for a tale or two.   As I approached him, he remarked, "You looked like you were in need of rescue." He threw his head back in hearty laughter. He seemed to find his own joke very entertaining. Steelheart was, as usual dressed in a finely tailored suit that was expertly tailored to fit his form. He is taller than I am and has a head of thick black hair groom in a manner that showed the best features of his face. One simply couldn't help but admire his attire and charm. His greatest charm was that when he was talking with you, his eyes focused on you with interest as if you were the most important person in the room and nobody else could distract his attention from you. I confess I have tried to pull this trick off but with little success.   "You're looking sound and healthy," he said to me as he looked me up and down. "I've got something for you that's going to change everything."   Remember how I mentioned earlier that he makes bold statements? There is your proof.   Steelheart grinned at me, recognizing my combination of confusion and curiosity. "Come with me, old friend. I've got to show you something."   Without a thought I followed behind the great man as he walked up a staircase I hadn't noticed before. We came to the floor above the auditorium where he had delivered his lecture. The hallway was wide with polished marble floors, oil burning sconces placed at intervals along the wall and discreet signs advising patrons on directions to the lobby, the water closet, and so on. It was all very elegant and I felt a sense of privilege that was rare and enjoyable.   Steelheart bent over the lock as he worked his key in, glancing up at me momentarily and smiling with a light in his eyes that told me that his bold statement that he was going to give me something that would change everything, was fact.   Steelheart opened the door revealing....a room. An ordinary room with a bed, dresser, and all the other ordinary things one sees in any rented room. I had expected something extraordinary owing to Steelheart's visible excitement.   "Have a seat Bede, I'll make us a drink."   I watched as he expertly poured amber liquid from a crystal decanter into a couple of elegant cut glasses. His great book had much to say about rituals. I felt I was watching one as he carefully poured our drinks. I smiled as I took the proffered glass. In an effort to convince him that I was in no hurry, I swirled the amber liquid in my glass, momentarily mesmerized and soothed by the glints of light reflected in the liquid from the light of the lamps.   "You have paper on you, I assume?"   His question surprised me. It wasn't what I was expecting. But then, I had no idea what I was expecting. What is it that could change everything?   "Of course. You know me too well, Professor." I grinned up at him as I emphasized the word, 'professor.'   Steelheart made a grimaced grin as he understood the reference. "I don't know why they insist on calling me professor."   He waved away the thought and pulled something out of his pocket as I lay my notebook on the table in front of me.   With his natural flair for the dramatic, he announced, "Bede, what you see before you is going to change your life. It's going to revolutionize your work." He held out a cylindrical object that I didn't recognize. It seemed crudely made and had a little knob and lever.   I thought it was some sort of letter opener and was confused.   "Well?" He encouraged me to take the object. I hesitated when he said with relish, as if he were producing a rabbit out of a top hat, "This is a transportable quill."   Steelheart knew all about my love and hate relationship with quills. We had had an entire conversation on the subject of quills one evening over tea. I admit though that I was still confused but took the object and looked at it, trying to tell if he was joking or if I was looking at it in the wrong way. There was no way for this small object to hold an ink pot and quill.   Finally Steelheart took pity on my confused silence.   "I know exactly what you're thinking, old man. Where's the ink? Am I right?"   "Well, exactly but there is also the mystery of where the quill is as well."   "That's the beauty of it you see. The ink is inside! The quill itself, pops out. This quill changes everything. It's an invention by one of my Traveler friends. They truly are quite the tinkerers. Let me demonstrate."   Steelheart took the thing back from me and showed me the parts.  "See this little lever?" I nodded and he continued.   "You pull the lever, gently mind you, just untll it resists. You don't want to force it. Hold the lever out like that for about 2 seconds and then start writing."   I was unconvinced. To demonstrate, after pulling the lever out for a few seconds, Steelheart placed the narrowed end of the object on the paper and began moving it across my open notebook. I watched as words formed on the page through the transportation of ink I could not see onto the paper. I stared entranced.   "May I try it?"   "Of course you may. It's for you Bede. You shouldn't need to pull the lever again until the ink quits coming out."   I took the portable quill from him carefully, afraid it would break and I would wake up from a dream. I then touched the end with the nib to the paper and found myself transported into pure pleasure. I studied the thing. I could see no obvious signs of ink on the nib. "Is this some sort of magical device?"   Steelheart laughed, not unkindly, and assured me that it was not magical, it was simply ingenious.   "But how do you get the ink into the quill?" I asked as I stared at this miraculous invention.   "It's easy." Steelheart then showed me how to pull on the little round knob at the top.   "You pull this shaft out while the nib is dipped into your inkpot. You pull on it slowly and it draws up the ink."   He then launched into an enthusiastic tale of how this miracle of the modern world had come into his possession. It had been invented by one of his Traveler friends. He still traveled with them for short stints now and then and professed to anybody who would listen that they were his "home."   "This is truly incredible. You're right, it changes everything. How do I purchase one of these jewels?"   Steelheart then handed the portable quill back to me and smiling, said, "This is yours free of charge and I have 3 more for you."   I was touched and grateful and to be truthful, enchanted at the thought of owning just one of these incredible devices. But I had to be polite and insist that I couldn't possibly take such an exquisite gift, that I would pay him for it and even reached into my pocket as if I was going to produce payment.   "Oh no, this isn't really a gift. It's free advertising. When your fellow writers see you with this, they are going to ask questions. They are going to want to try it out for themselves. They will tremble with excitement just as you have. The quill will sell itself. All you have to do is use it often enough that the word spreads. It won't be long before every person who must slave over paper as you must, will be trying to find where they can purchase one. All you have to do is use the quill publicly and perhaps even write a short piece on the ease of its use and how it works."   "