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EYEWITNESS NOTES:
Commentary by retired Captain 2nd Rank of the Naval Artillery Corps P. A. Pereleshin.
"Library for Reading," Volume CXXXIV, No. 10, October 1855.

October 14th. — The editors of "Library for Reading" magazine asked me to evaluate four eyewitness accounts concerning our Fatherland's eastern neighbor—the commune of Balnibarbi-Icaria.

I took on this assignment, or rather, dared to judge the veracity of these accounts, due to my long-standing connection, through my past service, with this strange land. Like the author of the first account, I was involved with the International Commission on Marine Fisheries in Northern Waters. However, Konstantin Maksimovich Borzenko is a diplomat with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, while I was in military service with the Admiralty.

Like all four authors of these notes, I became quite close with the Balnibarbian Brothers. Like Alexander Ivanovich Levitov, I visited our neighbors as a guest. The difference was that the esteemed professor studied economics, while I was interested in artillery and its manufacture on the island.

And I did indeed meet many invited European experts there, such as Messrs. Henrik van de Berg and Per Georg Scheutz. And with the help of such experts and their own engineers, the Communards' industry is indeed already catching up with the most developed countries in Europe, and their rails, artillery pieces, armor, and tools made of chrome-vanadium steel have already outpaced European progress.

As a result of this experience, I found all four notes remarkably truthful and vivid descriptions. For my part, I'll stand up for the Balnibarbian aborigines, whom I admire, even now they're considered either sullen fanatics or victims of heartless coercion into identical poverty.

Despite these depressing characteristics, the Balnibarbians, at least, do not wage merciless wars among themselves or against their neighbors, do not sell human beings like cattle, and do not exhaust their workers with long hours and miserable wages. Therefore, let us look at their historically established customs and mores, if not with outright approval, then at least with kindly indulgence. They are living people, and like us, they strive for goodness and happiness.

And here I must emphasize that we, the loyal subjects of our God-protected Autocrat, must abandon our disdain for the 'naive, evangelical communism' of these bearded men—who resemble us so much—and adopt the Balnibarbians' method of evenly developing the outskirts. I am, of course, speaking of our own Pacific frontier, directly opposite their islands.

Along its entire length of five thousand miles*, there are currently only three operational ports: Ayan, Unalaska, and Novoarkhangelsk.
*) From the border with the lands of the Qin dynasty, stretching along the taiga and tundra to Chukotka and encompassing the entire territory of Russian America. The first of these ports remains completely undeveloped and unequipped, while the other two are situated on remote islands and mostly serve the needs of foreign traders, with little benefit to the surrounding mainland.

It is of vital importance for us to grant our Far Eastern volosts the same economic independence as the Balnibarbian communes. First and foremost, we must grant the local merchants of the Ayan port the right to duty-free trade, and, most importantly, begin laying a railway from Yakutsk to the ocean without sparing any gold. The useful example of these eastern islanders should be appreciated all the more in the present hour of terrible trials, when the treacherous Anglo-French assault on our Pacific borders has recalled all regular forces to the main coast, leaving the fate of these waters to depend solely on the vigilance of private individuals and the friendly-neutral Icarians of Russia, for which they deserve our sincere respect

Вот "алгоритм ответа" на мой вопрос

Цитата: Alexander_S от августа  4, 2026, 01:34в русском мы можем писать как "ки", так и "кы".
В казахском так нельзя?
 
кісі – человек;  қыз – девушка

Во всех тюркских (в т.ч. и в каз.) унаследовано противопоставление ряда согласных по твердости/мягкости
от "древнетюркского письма" (‏𐱅𐰇𐰼𐰜⁚𐰌𐰃𐱅𐰏‎ — /tyryk bɪtɪg/)

Написание "кыз" (девушка) и "киси" (человек) по правилам "орхонского алфавита" потребует выбора первой согласной.
Среди твердых "К" и мягких:
Q или K в латинской транскрипции.
Қ или К в казахской латинице

Для Q имеется несколько глифов:
𐰴  (q /q/);
𐰶 𐰷 Х (ıq, qı, q
/ɯq/, /qɯ/, /q/);
𐰸 𐰹 (oq, uq, qo, qu, q
/oq/, /uq/, /qo/, /qu/, /q/ ).

Наиболее релевантным оказывается 𐰷
После которого согласно правилам первого слога необходимо указать гласную,
которой у нас оказывается 𐰃 (в Енисейском варианте - 𐰄)
читающаяся как "Ы" после твердых согласных и как "И" после мягких.

Завершающий глиф - 𐰔 (Z)
QyZ
𐰶𐰃𐰔

В енисейском написании может выглядеть как
𐰷𐰄𐰕
и даже
𐰓𐰄𐰕

Руны пишутся справа налево

Извинения админу, кнопку он предоставил.
В Быстром ответе "Font" указать "Noto Sans Old Turkic"
После чего даже на компе (но на нем указываемый шрифт установлен)
‏𐱅𐰇𐰼𐰜⁚𐰌𐰃𐱅𐰏‎ — /tyryk bɪtɪg/

𐱅𐰇𐰼𐰜⁚𐰌𐰃𐱅𐰏‎

Хотя...
На айфоне страница отображается корректно и без "фокусов"
В то же время на компе (шрифт установлен) вот так:
‏𐱅𐰇𐰼𐰜⁚𐰌𐰃𐱅𐰏‎ — /tyryk bɪtɪg/

На айфоне у меня руны, а на компе - пустые квадратики вместо них.
НО
скопировав на том же компе пустые квадратики и вставив в Блокнот увижу руны (если установлен шрифт).

Неужели нет носителей казахского?

В Old Turkic (древнетюркском) для "и" и "ы" есть только одна буква - i.
Ее произношение целиком определяется предшествующей согласной - Q или K (соответственно).

Своеобразная транскрипция твердости/мягкости звуков.

Нечто похожее в правиле русского языка: "жы шы пиши с буквой и".
Щ = "мягкое Ш"
Ш = "твердое Щ"
После которых одна и та же буква "И" читается
либо "твердо" (Ы - в "шибко"), либо "мягко" (И - в "щипцы")

Здесь
https://lingvoforum.net/index.php/topic,109427.new.html#new

буду для себя писать "тюркскими рунами"

https://fonts.google.com/noto/specimen/Noto+Sans+Old+Turkic/glyphs?preview.script=Orkh&preview.lang=otk_Orkh

В правом верхнем углу открывшегося окна нажать на Get font
Запустить загруженный файл и нажать на "установить шрифт"

После чего руны будут корректно отображаться в Блокноте.
А как их "показывать" в HTML-файлах научу дополнительно,
после создания демонстрационной страницы на каком-нибудь из бесплатных хостингов.

Без возможности управлять стилями (которая и имеется при хостинге) руны печатать невозможно
Здесь, на LF (как и на других форумах) "Заветная команда" доступна админу, но не нам, пользователям.

https://ru.wikipedia.org/wiki/Древнетюркское_письмо

WITNESS'S NOTES: THE MECHANICAL MIND OF LAPUTA. From the unpublished autobiographical memoirs of Mr. Per Georg Scheutz, Swedish inventor, mechanic, and foreign academician of the Grand Academy of Laputa. "Reading Library," Vol. CXXXIV, No. 10, October 1855.

August 11. — I don't want to exaggerate my achievements, for I am only one of hundreds of specialists whom the Balnibarbi government temporarily hires each year to carry out tasks. But in my heart, I am proud of myself. My assignment was highly ambitious: to develop and implement a mechanical accounting system in the Balnibarbi Commune. When I first arrived on the island, I thought I had found myself in a mechanic's paradise. I was given a fully equipped watchmaking workshop with machines and tools of incredible precision. The craftsmen in this workshop had previously created complex music boxes and automatic barrel organs that played state psalms. Instead of money, the government granted me unlimited state supplies. Tons of various metal blanks awaited me: rods, wires, and plates, as well as various lubricants and grinding pastes. And most importantly, I was given the right to order whatever I wanted from the warehouses. I divided the craftsmen into two groups. I assigned the older craftsmen to creating a computing system with a rotating bronze cylinder, where brass pins clang against copper levers.

August 12. —The second group of young craftsmen created a machine system in which a weak electrical impulse from a galvanic battery replaced a mechanical lever.

They used thin vulcanized paper cards—the same industrial cardboard used in Europe for Jacquard looms. A paper card could be punched in a second with a simple hand tool! Delicate steel needles were used to read the cardboard punch cards: where there is cardboard, the electrical circuit is broken; where there is a hole, the needle touches a metal surface, completing the galvanic circuit and advancing the counter dials at the speed of thought.

However, this machine system required entirely different materials, highly unusual for the old mechanics who were accustomed only to heavy bronze castings and whale oil. To build these electrical tabulators, we desperately needed natural rubber (caoutchouc) for wire insulation, purified mercury for non-arcing fluid switches, fine silk threads and sheets of natural mica to wrap the electromagnet coils, and large quantities of copper sulfate and refined acids for the Daniell galvanic cells. Some of these materials were in extremely short supply even across this vast state, forcing us to rely on the precious contraband stocks of the southern ports.

Questions about their supplies soon reached the highest level—the head of the Grand Academy of Laputa. Meetings of the Academy council, responding to my inquiries and demands for raw materials, alternated with heated discussions on the nascent inter-communal markets. The Academy's primary task became the centralization of market records on the exchange volumes of key communal products (such as bean harvests, metallurgy, timber, and coal) and the fluctuating exchange rates of labor coupons between communes.

Tabulators based on mechanical engagement were the first to be tested in market controller booths, but they became a source of daily drama. Controllers manually punched holes in heavy brass plates using lever presses. It was a slow, grueling process; suppliers grumbled in long lines, and the plates often became deformed or jammed in the feeder valves, bringing the state's accounting to a terrifying halt.

August 14. — The same dramatic traffic jam paralyzes their communication lines. Currently, the Icarians transmit their data using a network of light (optical) telegraphs. On each high hill stands a stone tower with a massive reflector of polished bronze. When a stack of brass punched cards is ready, an operator inserts it into a giant lantern mechanism. Sunlight—or burning metal filings at night—flares through the holes, transmitting coded signals from tower to tower.
It's a grand, majestic spectacle, but last Tuesday, a thick fog blew in from the sea, and for three days, the Grand Academy was completely blind to the needs of the ports. The entire state apparatus was paralyzed, unable to balance the falling rates of commune coupons. I proposed a new experiment to the Board: running insulated copper wires along the new railway lines. This would allow binary data to be transmitted through pitch-black night, through storms and fog, with the simple clicks of an electrical relay.

August 28th. — The regular session of the Academy, at which I finally demonstrated the overwhelming advantage of electrical impulses over physical levers, ended abruptly by the requirement of the strict state regulations, only to give way to the next scheduled assembly. The old Academicians remained stubborn, terrified of a force they could not see. As I was already leaving the hall, right in the doorway, my opponents shouted after me in frustration: "But you must understand, Hendrik, that your proposal would require the creation of an entirely new branch of industry!" I turned back and replied with all the firmness I could muster: "Then we must create this branch of industry!" One of the district representatives from the communes, who was walking towards us into the hall for the next meeting, heard these words and stopped dead in his tracks. He rudely poked his finger at me, turned to his retinue, and exclaimed: "There it is! This is exactly what Linda needs!" He immediately ordered his personal secretary to linger in the reception room, find me, and arrange a private meeting at once.

Lagado, a city on the southeastern shore of the main island, declared capital by the early Jesuits, and Lindalino, located on the southwestern shore, were longtime rivals. Unfortunately for Lindalino, it was Lagado's black beach, the largest on the island, that was chosen for the exploitation of titanomagnetite sands, and its metallurgical centre quickly flourished. Lindalino, however, remained in the old era of wood, stone, and bronze.

This is why that chance meeting at the doors of the Academy  led to my electrical engineering project gaining its own new community, Eleitro (which means "Electro" in the Balnibarbian language), and the city of Lindalino acquiring a much-needed advanced industry.

EYEWITNESS NOTES: INTERCOMMUNAL MARKETS
From the travel notes of A. I. Levitov, Master of Philosophy, Adjunct Professor of Political Economy and Statistics at the Imperial Academy of Sciences.
"Library for Reading," Volume CXXXIV, No. 10, October 1855.

September 12th. — My first encounter with Balnibarbi began with an incident. At the Laputian customs house, the stern Brothers, silently and completely ignoring my heated objections, confiscated and sealed my entire travel library with sealing wax. I had hoped to find here a living embodiment of the ideas of Proudhon's mutualism and Reformist socialism of Louis Blanc. However, the customs officials remained deaf to science. Despite all this, these zealots of equality eagerly questioned me about the European goods I could bring with me for sale (and which I didn't have). Meanwhile, the officials vied with each other in extolling the government's system of exchange, convincing me of the benefits of handing over foreign clothing and especially colonial goods. They assured me that in exchange, a foreigner would receive special "foreign checks," which would immediately redeem anything the foreign gentleman desired from the government warehouses—from Laputian balsams to the finest silk. A surprising paradox: a government that frantically guards its communities from European books, yet lures foreigners with the benefits of abundant goods to replenish its own foreign currency coffers.

September 16th. — I had the opportunity to observe the phenomenon of an inter-communal market, which is still in its infancy. Since there is still no unified currency in the country, and each commune prints its own paper coupons to record hours worked, these receipts have become de facto local currencies. At these markets, procurement agents, dispatched by their communes with official route sheets, conduct before our very eyes a complex clearing exchange of coupons from different communes, changing their exchange rates every week, and exchange iron from the capital of Lagado or northern timber for local subtropical products.

September 21st. — State inspectors (the Brothers-Controllers) are, of course, present at these markets, but they are unable to physically monitor prices, as there is no single currency in the country and it is impossible to set a fixed rate. Instead, feverish statistical activity is underway in their official booths. The inspectors tirelessly record the spontaneously evolving exchange rates of coupons from various communes. This entire mass of figures is transferred daily to special punched cards. These cards are hastily sent to the central committee in the capital. There, these cards are run through mechanical tabulators, thereby tracking hidden economic shortages and identifying communes whose coupons are rapidly declining in value. Otherwise, the inspectors' duties are purely rational: they check the travel orders of supply workers, vigilantly monitor sanitary safety, mercilessly burning away any rottenness, and protect the center's monopoly on gunpowder and weapons. The most exclusive commodity in Ikaria, of course, is all foreign imports. Therefore, the most coveted and scarce medium of exchange in the markets remains those very same "foreign checks" for surrendered currency and colonial goods. A supply worker who obtains such checks is revered as a hero, for with them, the commune leadership can officially release real treasures from the warehouses.

September 25th. — I attended a meeting of the Political Economy Department at the Grand Academy of Laputa, where I had a lengthy and very frank conversation with local academic professors, who have now cast off their former Jesuit scholasticism in favor of rigorous mathematical planning. To my surprise, the main topic of our debate was not the dogmas of communism, but the acute, existential shortage of tropical goods that is literally strangling the Balnibarbi economy. Industrialization requires rubber for insulation, palm oil and copra for lubricating steam engines, cotton and jute for manufacturing. The food and household needs of a population of 32 million, raised on hearty government meals, require colossal quantities of coffee, cocoa, sugar, spices, seafood, and fresh fruit, which the meager nature of the northern plateau cannot produce. The Maldonado Peninsula and Laputa itself, despite all the agronomists' tricks, are unable to satisfy this gigantic appetite. In this academic department, it became completely clear to me why the local Market Controllers so greedily hunt for foreign goods, and why "foreign checks" have become the island's most coveted currency.

EYEWITNESS NOTES: THE BLACK SANDS OF LAGADO.
From a letter by Mr. Hendrik van de Berg, a mechanical engineer from Rotterdam. "Library for Reading," Vol. CXXXIV, No. 10, October 1855.

August 18th. — After two months of grueling travel, we finally unloaded our dredger, assembled at the Fienoord shipyards, on the beach of the town of Lagado. The local engineers showed almost religious respect for our machine. This is hardly surprising, however: in Balnibarbi, the only iron ore is titanomagnetite sand, which thickly covers the seashores and riverbeds. Our steam pump, belching columns of black smoke, is capable of lifting tons of this black sludge from the bottom per hour, sending it straight to the separation chutes.

Two battalions of the Labor Army continue to manually wash the sand in the shallows. One battalion consists of young men drafted from northern communes—broad-shouldered and strong beyond their years. The other battalion consists of slender girls from the fertile southern peninsula. The boys and girls work on opposite sides of the channel, but with great competitive fervor, calling to each other across the water. In the evening, under the supervision of Brother-Mentors, they are allowed to meet in common areas for dancing and sports.

August 22nd. — The local engineers, though lacking European polish, are surprisingly quick with mechanics. They've fitted our Dutch unit with a special system of traps. Black sand clings to the magnets, and the waste rock is sent back to the river. The senior foreman, a stern old man named Brother Lucas, explained to me in Latin* that during European coke smelting, titanium oxides clogged the furnace, and valuable vanadium went into slag. However, by melting sand and lime with external heating, they learned that it provides great strength and corrosion resistance to steel.

*Per processum fusionis Europaeorum, oxida titanii fornacem obstruxerunt, et vanadium pretiosum in scoria amisit. Attamen, harenam et calcem liquefaciendo calefactione externa, didicerunt magnam firmitatem et resistentiam corrosionis ferro praebere.

August 27th. — Work at the factory goes on around the clock, divided into three eight-hour shifts. The workers, of course, don't see any money, but the local proletarians' lives are far from miserable. For the hours they work, they receive coupons backed by commune produce. A single coupon can buy a hearty meal for the whole family, complete with meat, fish, excellent dairy products, and baked goods. Alcohol is unavailable here, but these same coupons are used to obtain clothing, shoes, household items, and much more from commune warehouses, whatever the commune's supply chain has managed to barter. The exchange takes place at the "intercommunal" market, where local commune coupons are highly prized. Since it was late August, fresh fruit from subtropical communes is now available to the workers at the market.

September 2nd. — A breakdown occurred: the crankshaft on the auxiliary lubrication pump cracked. Brother Lucas was personally acquainted with the director of our "community-forming" iron smelter. This young and energetic man, who combined the duties of plant director and spiritual mentor of the community, personally arrived on shore, inspected the breakdown, and immediately, without any bureaucracy, ordered the necessary spare part to be manufactured in the machine shop and a supply of lubricant. Local government here acts with astonishing speed when it comes to the common good and the smooth operation of the state plan. Our unit began smoking again by the evening of the same day, and Brother Lucas, consulting his punch cards, declared with satisfaction: "The rhythm of Lagado has been maintained, the commune plan has been fulfilled on time!"