Eric Flint: 1636: The Viennese Waltz

“My parents are kidnapping me!” Hayley Fortney wailed over the phone. Hayley wasn’t quite fifteen.

Judy the Younger Wendell, who had just turned sixteen a month ago, held the phone away from her ear for a moment but she still heard in the background, “Hayley! It’s nothing like that and you know it. Your father got a good job. That’s all!”

“Like I said,” Hayley continued. “My parents are kidnapping me. I need to know what to take to freaking Austria!”

“I don’t have any idea, but I think I know who to ask.”

“Who?”

“Prince Karl.” Karl Eusebius von Liechtenstein had been the Barbie Consortium’s main financial backer since his return from Amsterdam at the beginning of the year.

“The Ken Doll?”

“He’s from there. He should know what they have and what they need.”

“Okay,” Hayley agreed, sounding less panicked. “But he’s the Ken Doll. You know, stands around looking pretty and giving us money.”

Which was a patent untruth. Prince Karl Eusebius von Liechtenstein was anything but a Ken Doll. He was, in fact, the head of his family-his rather wealthy family-in the Holy Roman Empire, an acquaintance of His Majesty Ferdinand II as well as His Royal Highness Ferdinand, who would probably become Ferdinand III in the near future. Prince Karl was indeed rich, and smart enough to let others with more financial acumen manage that wealth.

“Sure, but he was a royal prince before that. Besides, I think Sarah has the hots for him.” Sarah was Judy’s older sister and the source of Judy’s information when back in late 1631 Judy had organized her friends on the Grantville Middle School cheerleading squad into the Barbie Consortium.

“What about David?”

“She’s still dating him. Too. I didn’t think Sarah had it in her.”

Apparently even juicy gossip about Judy’s older sister wasn’t enough to distract Hayley for long. “Never mind that. I know he’s a prince and you know that just means one of his ancestors was a successful crook.”

“His dad, actually,” Judy explained unnecessarily. “And both his uncles, one way or another. Don’t you pay attention to anything but nuts and bolts?”

“Nope,” Hayley said proudly. “The rest is just paperwork so I have the nuts and bolts I need.” Which was another patent falsehood. Hayley was the Barbie Consortium’s mechanical “genius” though she wasn’t in the same class as Brent and Trent Partow in Judy’s opinion. But she was not really ignorant of what the rest of the Barbies did.

Judy wisely let it pass. “Karl will know what opportunities there are in the sticks.” It didn’t occur to Judy Wendell that there was anything odd in calling the capital of the Holy Roman Empire “the sticks.” To her, civilisation had arrived on Earth with the Ring of Fire and she lived in its center. As soon as she was off the phone with Hayley, she called Karl.

June 1634

Liechtenstein House, outside the Ring of Fire

“It’s a letter from your Uncle Gundaker.” Josef Gandelmo, Karl’s tutor, financial manager, and companion, handed him the letter across the desk.

Karl opened it and read. “The family wants me to increase their allowance.”

“That’s hardly fair, Your Serene Highness.” Josef’s voice held quite a bit of censure, but at least a touch of humor as well. He moved over to the sideboard and gestured to the drink bottles.

Karl shook his head. He still wasn’t happy with the down-time version of Sprite and had never been all that pleased with beer or wine. “I know. But it does seem a bit strange how the world works. Gundaker wants five hundred thousand guilders in silver. Which is insane. Granted, silver is worth more in Vienna. It might even be profitable to ship silver to Vienna and dollars back here. If they had any dollars worth mentioning in Vienna. But they don’t.”

“I suspect His Imperial Majesty is putting considerable pressure on your family and if your family’s access to its wealth is problematical, His Imperial Majesty’s lost two-thirds of his tax base. The wealthier two-thirds,” Josef said.

Karl nodded. “Somehow, I don’t think my neighbors in Grantville are going to be all that thrilled with me if I start sending silver to fund Ferdinand’s armies. For that matter, Wallenstein-who is King Albrecht now-won’t be thrilled and he can cut off access to the better part of my assets. Frankly, it would be better politically if I didn’t have the money. . at least not in cash.”

Josef snorted. “You should do more business with the Barbie Consortium. I’m sure they would be happy to relieve you of your cash. . Ken Doll.”

Karl looked at Josef, then leaned back in his swivel chair and grinned. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

“I was joking, Your Serene Highness.”

“I know, but I’m not.” Karl gave Josef a serious look. “Josef, that letter was delayed. I didn’t receive it for at least a week from now. A month would be better. Meanwhile, get in touch with both Judy Wendells, the younger and the elder.”

Seeing his look, he added: “No, Josef, I don’t intend to defy my family and my emperor. But I’m walking a tightrope here, with Ferdinand II on one side and Wallenstein on the other. I can’t send cash. It would raise too many red flags. If I don’t send anything, it will raise red flags on the other side. I will send an authorization for the family to borrow against family assets in Bohemia and Silesia. Those assets will have considerably more value if they are the planned recipients of up-timer sweet corn, new plows, stamp presses, sewing machines, and anything else I can think of or learn from Mrs. Wendell. For the rest, I can’t send it if I don’t have it, and the Barbies might be just the group to invest those funds in ways that will make them temporarily unavailable. Go, Josef. Make your phone calls.”

Wendell Home, Grantville

Judy the Younger, irrepressible as always, said, “I don’t know how you do it. Somehow that outfit works on you.”

Karl smiled, gave her a little bow, and followed her into the living room where her mother and sister waited. She waved him to the couch. Karl was wearing dark-red calfskin riding boots with a bronze down-time made zipper replacing the laces. Zippers had become all the rage since the Ring of Fire; at least, for those who could afford them. Tucked into the boots were dark brown pants with embroidery in red and gold. A white linen shirt was covered by a gold lame waistcoat and a dark green morning coat with the same red and gold embroidery. Both the vest and the morning coat had zippers as well. This was all topped with a beaver cowboy hat, which Karl took off and set on the end table once he was seated.

“So, what’s so important, Prince Karl?” asked Sarah Wendell. She was wearing the down-time version of a woman’s business suit, a divided calf-length skirt and a matching jacket, with a high-collared blouse, all done in various shades of blue.

“I find myself in an unusual position,” Karl admitted. “For complicated reasons, I find it would be much better if I temporarily had a great deal less cash on hand.”

“I have to ask.” Judy the Younger grinned. “What complicated reasons?”

“My uncle wants me to send him five hundred thousand guilder in silver.”

Judy tut-tutted. “You people don’t know anything about money.”

“Be nice, Judy, or I’ll send you to your room,” Judy the Elder told her daughter.

“I note, however,” Karl said, “that you didn’t disagree with her.”

“Well. .”

“It’s perfectly all right. I have come to believe that, to a great extent, our knowledge of money is on a par with our knowledge of medicine.” Karl sighed. “The truth is that three years ago my family knew more, or at least as much, about money and finance as anyone in Europe. And Kipper and Wipper were, I believe, less the result of avarice than of ignorance.”