Babel

by R.F. Kuang

‘Do you know what the majority of bars are used for in this country?’ Robin took a wild guess. ‘Doctors’ practices?’ ‘Ha. Adorable. No, they’re used for sitting room decorations. That’s right – alarm clocks that sound like real roosters, lights that dim and brighten on vocal demand, curtains that change colour throughout the day, that sort of thing. Because they’re fun, and because the British upper class can afford them, and whatever rich Britons want, they get.’ ‘Fine,’ said Robin. ‘But just because Babel sells bars to meet popular demand—’ Griffin cut him off. ‘Would you like to know the second and third largest sources of income at Babel?’ ‘Legal?’ ‘No. Militaries, both state and private,’ said Griffin. ‘And then slave traders. Legal makes pennies in comparison.’ ‘That’s . . . that’s impossible.’ ‘No, that’s just how the world works. Let me paint you a picture, brother. You’ve noticed by now that London sits at the centre of a vast empire that won’t stop growing. The single most important enabler of this growth is Babel. Babel collects foreign languages and foreign talent the same way it hoards silver and uses them to produce translation magic that benefits England and England only. The vast majority of all silver bars in use in the world are in London. The newest, most powerful bars in use rely on Chinese, Sanskrit, and Arabic to work, but you’ll count less than a thousand bars in the countries where those languages are widely spoken, and then only in the homes of the...