"Oil? You mean the black sticky substance?" Napoleon I asked, looking at Napoleon II.
"Yes," Napoleon II replied. "That viscous black liquid used mostly for lubrication. For sealing. For keeping machines from tearing themselves apart under friction."
Girard frowned slightly. "We use it on axles. On presses. On steam pistons when grease fails."
"And that is only the beginning," Napoleon II said.
"Right now," he continued, "oil is treated as a secondary material. Something crude. Something dirty. It stains clothes and floors, so no one wants to think about it beyond its immediate use."
He turned back to them.
"But oil burns," he said plainly.
The room stayed quiet.
Girard did not nod. He did not smile. He leaned back slightly, fingers interlaced, eyes fixed on Napoleon II.
"That is a strong claim," he said. "Coal fires our boilers because it is reliable. Its heat is known. Measured. Oil is inconsistent. Impure. And crude oil, as we know it, smokes and fouls burners."
