Eric Flint: Grantville Gazette. Volume XX

"Uncle Hannes took a good look around, as he always does. Then he went over by the gate, and looked closer. You know how wood will start to take up a bend, when it's been under too much load for too long? Well, the top beam looked like that. He dug his knife into it, and it went in much too easily. The steward was there, representing the owners. Uncle Hannes stood up and shouted to him that the gate was rotten and not safe. He said it needed to be replaced before anybody could go into the lock with water on the other side of the gate. The simplest way would have been to block the canal with a temporary dam of rocks and dirt.

"But the steward wouldn't hear of it. He answered that the gate had held for forty years, and sent the men in.

"No more than two hours later, it broke open right in front of us. It all happened in a few seconds. Men ran for the walls and tried to ride the rush of water. All of us on the bank grabbed ropes, boards, whatever was within reach, and pulled men out, or just held them up until others could help. But there were two that nobody could find in time, with all the debris and muddy water in that lock.

"So, I broke a company rule just now. Deliberately. I couldn't just ignore a fatal accident waiting to happen, and not try my best to stop it. I wouldn't want that on my conscience. And nobody in the company wants a reputation for making things that kill people."

Gerd was silent again, thinking. He cupped his chin in his hand.

"Herr Bosboom, if I understand the lesson in all this, it's that I can't afford to allow this generator here unless I know enough about it to make it safe. I have to control what's in my mill."

Bosboom nodded his head. "That's a logical conclusion, for certain. I couldn't agree more."

"But you said other millers own these machines, and they're making money with them?"

"That's right, it's starting to happen. I think within a year there will be a sudden increase in that business. The problems of manufacturing light bulbs at prices people can afford are close to being solved."

"I see. That means we have some important decisions to make here. I'd appreciate a chance to ask you a good many more questions. Would you accept an offer of supper with my family and me, and a place to sleep tonight?"

"That's very kind. I wasn't really looking forward to going back down the road, with evening coming on. Maybe my shoulder will feel better after a night's rest, too. Can you accommodate the mule I rented to get up here?"

"Of course. Wagon drivers sometimes have to stay over."

"Thank you, then."

"Ilsabe, liebchen, go tell Mama we'll have a guest tonight."

With a thumping of boots Peter was back from his errand in the village. His eye fastened on the platter of fresh bread in the middle of the table, and Marta's eye fastened just as quickly on him. She reached across with the long wooden spoon in her hand, barring his way. "You'll sit and eat at the table with the rest of us, you wolf cub."

"Mama, I'm starved!"

"Oh, right, I can see your ribs. Papa and the men from the mill will be here in no time. Then we'll all eat. And nobody will starve. Go wash up."

Then Stefan came in, and a minute later Gerd was there with their guest. He seemed a pleasant young man, with a ready smile and an air of intelligence. The cut of his clothes was something like the uniforms the army teamsters wore, but in different colors. His trousers were made of a heavy dark blue fabric with copper rivets at the pocket corners, and he wore a rugged-looking red and black checked shirt. He took off a broad-brimmed hat in a style she hadn't seen before. Someone with tales from far away, perhaps?

"… my wife Marta Seidelin, and our son Peter.

"Marta, a man of virtue stands before us."

She cocked her head, with an expectant half-smile.

"Old Winkler drove him to fury."

"Heh-heh-heh. I can't imagine how that could have happened. So then what?"

"Anyone else might have come out with a curse. Herr Bosboom here pronounced a blessing."

This time it was the guest who showed a half-smile-a puzzled one.

"You did! You prayed for the safety of the miners!"

His hand went over his mouth, and his eyes crinkled. "What? Oh. Yes, I suppose I did."

"And I assume you sincerely wished them well, when you called on the Lord to save them from Winkler's foolishness?"

"Well, of course. I wouldn't want anybody to be electrocuted."

"So, there you are. You pronounced a blessing."

" Pffff! A civil engineer is supposed to do a lot more than just pray."

Marta laughed as she ladled out the soup, and gestured for everyone to sit down. "Well, husband, what's the news?"

"Marta…" He sighed. "We have a problem. It will be weeks before Winkler will be in any position to make use of that generator of his, and even that might be too optimistic. Herr Bosboom says everything has to be rebuilt, and before that can even start, there are other experts Winkler needs to consult. So he won't be paying us to drive it, for as long as that takes."

"Oh, Gerd, we were counting on that money. What do we do now?"

"For now, let's enjoy the food in front of us and our company. We can talk later about how to finish paying the carpenters."

Bosboom asked, "The carpenters?"

"It's no secret. A storm last winter brought down a big tree, right on top of the mill. We were keeping ahead of expenses, until that happened. It's repaired now, and the mill is working again, but it cost a lot. The carpenters have been patient, but they naturally want their money."

"It sounds like a difficult situation. I'm sorry to hear it."

"Well, thank you. Gerd and I really hoped you'd be able to tell Winkler and his foreman what to do to get everything working."

"It's a little too complicated for that, Frau Seidelin," he said with a downcast look. "It involves a lot more than just telling them how to install the equipment my company supplied. That would be hard enough, with what they're trying to do. But there's all the pump and plumbing work to plan over from the beginning, and Herr Winkler seemed to think I could do a mine electrician's job too."

Gerd paused with his spoon in the air. "Mine electrician? There's a trade by that name?"

"Well, in a way. There are some special things to know about wiring in mines. One of Grantville's better-known citizens started out as a mine electrician. I haven't met her, though. She's been away on business since before I came to the company."

Clink! Ilsabe was sitting bolt-upright. The spoon had dropped from her hand. "Herr Bosboom! Did I hear you right? Did you just say that women work in this 'electrician' trade? This trade that Herr Winkler said draws such high wages?"

Marta understood in a flash. "Your dowry. You're thinking of how to earn your dowry."

"Yes, Mama! Instead of some dull job in service somewhere, struggling to save anything at all, maybe I could have a real trade? Herr Bosboom, is that what this means?"

"Well, if you decide that's what you want to do, I'd say it's a real possibility. You're quick enough with unfamiliar tools. If you can do as well with book learning, you could get accepted into an electrical apprenticeship program easily enough. The up-timers are absolutely desperate to train enough of them."

"And because of that, they accept girls?" Marta asked.

"That would be logical enough, but it's not the reason. They had an equal opportunity law before they were ever flung into our midst, and they declared it still in effect before the guilds knew what was going on. Anybody who can show a record book with the required experience can sit for the state examination for journeyman or master, and get the license. A licensed electrician can work anywhere in Thuringia and Franconia."