Eric Flint - 1636 - The Viennese Waltz

Royal Chambers, Prague, Bohemia

“It seems a perfectly reasonable proposal to me,” Morris Roth said, looking up from the letter. He handed the letter back to the clerk.

“It seems an excellent way to move massive numbers of Austrian troops and their supplies into Silesia to attack us from the east,” said Pappenheim.

King Albrecht, propped up with pillows, wasn’t so sure. He knew that the railroads had been used in future wars to move men and materials at incredible speeds, but he also realized that they were a weak point in any transport system. Something about Sherman’s Bowties. “What were ‘Sherman’s Bowties’?” he asked.

Morris Roth looked blank for a minute. “Oh, yes. It was the American Civil War. Sherman, a Union general, would heat rails on a bonfire till they were red hot, then wrap them around a tree like a bow tie.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t want to get sidetracked into a discussion of up-time fashions, especially since I think the bow tie is perhaps the silliest piece of male attire ever invented.”

“Worse than the cod piece?” King Albrecht felt a smile crease his face as he recalled some of the French codpieces he had seen.

“Well, maybe the cod piece has them beat, but then again, maybe not. But, never mind that. Heating and bending the rails around a tree made them useless.”

“But these proposed rails are to be wooden?” Pappenheim asked.

“So you use them in the bonfire,” Morris said. “They can’t run a train on ash any more than on Sherman’s Bowties.”

“If you realize what’s happening in time,” Pappenheim said. “I don’t doubt that railroads can be disabled, but at the same time I can readily see them making the initial blow in a war decisive.”

King Albrecht looked over to Morris, who shrugged. “I am not a military expert, Your Majesty. But, financially, such a rail system would be of great benefit to Bohemia.”

“All of Bohemia or just Silesia?”

“There would be some benefit to the rest of the kingdom, but mostly to Silesia,” Morris acknowledged. “But if the railroads follow a consistent gauge, then a rail line from Prague to Opole would let us trade with the Danube and the Baltic with much of the expense being borne by Liechtenstein.”

“And us paying Liechtenstein fares on every pound,” Pappenheim said. “That family is famous for the advantage they take.”

King Albrecht considered. He had been both friends and enemies with the Liechtenstein family over the years. And what Pappenheim said was as true of him as it was of them, even more so. He had, after all, gained a kingdom. But perhaps it was time to be friends with them again, or at least with young Karl.

For now. But not for free.

“I think I’ll insist that young Karl come to talk over the project personally,” King Albrecht said. “And while he is here, he can swear fealty to me. I think we have let the boy sit on the fence long enough.”

The Hofburg Palace, Vienna, Austria

Prince Ferdinand was even less sure than King Albrecht. Having a couple of up-timers to take care of his car and consult on matters of up-time techniques was one thing. Having one wandering around the kingdom making maps was something else. But he figured there were enough down-time spies running around that one or two up-time ones wouldn’t matter. More importantly, he was unsure how the railroad would pan out in terms of generating wealth. Would it make Austria richer or Wallenstein richer? Both, he was advised, was the most likely answer, but he didn’t find that overly helpful.

He managed to keep Karl’s letter from coming to the attention of his dying father. He had no desire to explain to his emperor that he was recruiting up-timers. And he really didn’t want to discuss with his father how the Sanderlins and Fortneys had been recruited by his agents in the first place, with Karl Liechtenstein grafting his job onto the group. The emperor, his father, didn’t need his thoughts troubled and Prince Ferdinand didn’t need the argument.

* * *

But it took a few weeks for all the mail to make its way across Europe. And in the meantime, Judy the Younger Wendell had moved into the Higgins Hotel and her parents and sister were getting ready to move to Magdeburg.

June 1634

Higgins Hotel, Ring of Fire

Judy the Younger stretched on her bed in her suite at the Higgins Hotel. Mom and Sarah hadn’t moved to Magdeburg yet, but Judy wanted to get settled before they left. Getting to stay in Grantville had been a massive struggle, but worth it. She wasn’t staying on her own. Her parents wouldn’t go for that. But Delia Higgins was considered a good influence. Mostly, Judy admitted with some chagrin, because Delia wasn’t buying Judy’s schtick . Most adults, Judy could get around, one way or the other. Not Delia. “Some people just aren’t charmable,” Judy muttered resentfully, stood up, and padded across to her desk. Not that she was really all that resentful. She just felt that she was supposed to be.

Judy’s desk was oak, built since the Ring of Fire with a combination of up-time equipment and down-time craftsmanship and was a masterpiece. Literally. Judy knew the master. The whole top two floors of the Higgins was like that. Furniture, art, all made in a fusion of seventeenth-century craftsmanship and twentieth-century tools and techniques. Vernon Bruce, Delia’s Scottish interior decorator, would have nothing less in the penthouse, even if Delia didn’t care. Delia had given him his shot by hiring him to decorate the Grantville Higgins and now he was in high demand. She was his patron. Delia Higgins and David Bartley tended to do that. . collect retainers almost against their will. So did Mike Stearns, come to think of it. They couldn’t all be natural leaders, could they? Well, Mike Stearns was. With Delia and David, though, it was something else. People saw opportunity in them and down-timers, especially, responded with personal loyalty. That happened to almost any up-timer who didn’t screw it up. Not all the time, but a lot.

It had happened to the Barbies, that was for sure. In a way, the American Equipment Company disaster had been a godsend, and not just because it had got them together with the Ken Doll. It had also done really good things for their reputation. Everyone knew that they bought that company after it was already a failure in a big way. The fact that they had gotten most of the investors out with their skin intact had done wonders for their reputation, both for fair dealing and for sharpness. Judy decided that she really did need to do something nice for the Ken Doll for coming to their rescue like that. Which brought Sarah to mind. For some reason Judy couldn’t see, Prince Karl was totally bonkers over her sister. The trick would be to get Sarah to notice.

In retrospect, Judy was amazed that Sarah had ever gotten together with David, because she didn’t think Sarah would notice even someone as blatant as David was. Karl was a lot more subtle. A lot more careful. So careful that there was no way Sarah would see what was going on. He understood the up-timer rules pretty well, but love and sex were delicate areas any time. So Karl was doing his friendly flirtatious bit as a sort of a shield. But it was a shield that would keep Sarah from realizing he was really interested in her.

Judy picked up the phone. There was no dial tone. Instead, after a slight pause-no more than a couple of seconds-a voice came on the line. “Higgins Hotel switchboard. How may I direct your call?”

“Hi, Elsbeth. It’s Judy. Would you set up a call to Prince Karl Eusebius von Liechtenstein for me and call me back when it’s through, please?”