Eric Flint: TITLE: Grantville Gazette.Volume XVIII

"We want to," her father cut in. "We love you." He turned to Hugo. "Both of you."

This made Allie cry until her mother stopped her.

"Come on, baby, open it."

Allie tore into the wrapping and recovered a small jeweler's box. She opened it and gasped. She set the box down beside her tiny slice of birthday cake and took out a silver locket on a chain. She opened it and smiled tearfully. There was a small painting of Hugo set inside.

"Oh, Momma, Daddy…" She sniffled, kissing both of her parents. "It's beautiful."

Hugo took the locket and fastened it around her neck. He kissed her lightly on the nape and whispered into her ear. "I have a surprise for you, as well."

He picked up a small decorative bag, the kind used before the Ring of Fire for last minute gifts. This one was well used and worn. "Happy birthday, my love."

She dug into the tissue paper and produced a silken scarf in emerald green. "It's lovely," she said taking it by the ends to tie it around her neck. Hugo took it from her instead and tied it over her eyes.

"There is more, mein Engel," he said when he was done blindfolding her. "This way."

Allie strained her ears in a vain attempt to tell what Hugo was up to. He had something planned-something big. It was about ten o'clock at night and the rest of the family followed closely, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. When Hugo stopped her in the middle of the yard, her parents cooed in delight over some unseen wonder.

When he removed the blindfold, she saw the wonder itself. He had made a telescope.

"Surprise, sweetie," her father sang out. "We've been working on it for months. Hugo wanted to keep it a secret, for your birthday."

She circled the instrument, regarding it with unbridled curiosity. It sat on a three-legged mount about three feet high. The body was a large octagonal wooden box about five feet long and was attached near the middle by a t-shaped pivot on top of the stand. One side of the "t" held the instrument; the other held a counterweight. At the top end, there was an eyepiece and another little tiny telescope that looked like a rifle scope. It was a striking medley of future and contemporary technology. She thought it was quite beautiful.

"Here, let me show you." Hugo gestured to the scope. "It is a fifteen-inch spherical reflector. The focal length is two-hundred inches, but I've put an aperture stop at fifty inches to reduce the spherical aberration."

Allie had no idea what all that meant but she smiled and nodded.

He continued, "I meant to regrind the mirror to a parabola, but I didn't have time. I wanted to show it to you on your birthday. When I get time, I will finish it."

He stepped up to the telescope and peered through the spotter scope. He made a few adjustments and peered into the eyepiece of the main scope briefly before stepping aside for Allie. "That's Jupiter. See, those three dots are Europa, Ganymede and Io."

It was chilly outside, even in the spring. Allie shivered and Hugo threw his cloak over her and snuggled her close. They took turns peering into the eyepiece, Hugo explaining the significance of thing they looked at. He told her stories of the stars and named them in Arabic. They stayed until the wee hours, long after her parents retreated to the house, and made love for the first time under a sky full of blazing stars.

It didn't occur to her to feel guilty. She didn't feel she'd done anything wrong. She felt God would understand that two lonely desperate souls needed each other.

Hugo collapsed suddenly five days later, while walking home after having morning shot. He passed into a coma on May 27, 1634, Gregorian and died seven days later, on a Saturday. He had been taking Duncan Cunningham's insulin preparation for nine months. The intensive therapy, which had originally been so successful in his case, failed and his condition suddenly worsened for no reason Doctor Adams could figure out. But regardless of the cause, the smell of ketones on his breath told Jeff that he was losing his battle for life.

Doctor Adams could do nothing and felt the helplessness that haunted the families of his patients when all had gone wrong. The autopsy proved nothing conclusively but he was pretty sure that the cause of death was ketoacidosis. Why Hugo quit responding to the insulin, he would never know.

There was a small funeral service, attended only by the Haggertys and Doctor Adam's medical staff. They respected Allie's wishes. Hugo was buried next to her ancestors in the Haggerty family plot. His headstone was granite, simple, bearing only his name, the dates, and a simple epitaph- Too Late for Sunday- in German and English.

July, 1635

Allie walked briskly along the sidewalk, passing storefront after storefront, ignoring them all until she reached the clinic. She stopped and checked her scrubs, patting down her seams and flicking away a piece of unwanted gray lint. She liked the pink and white candy stripers that were the virtual livery, to choose a down-time word, of nurse interns.

She was already half way through nursing school. She had sent a letter to Mrs. Cunningham of Three M Labs explaining that she wanted to carry on Duncan's work. And she'd gotten a reply. They'd offered her a job, contingent on her finishing school-something she had every intention of doing.

She sighed deeply and looked up at the facade of the Ancel van Trumpe Diabetes Clinic, then entered the foyer and passed the row of memorial plaques to the patients who had died. The first was of Hugo. It was a good likeness of him, smiling as always. She stroked the locket with his portrait. She still wore it and had promised herself she always would. A tear rolled down her cheek as she reached the plaque dedicated to Doctor van Trumpe's son, who'd died of diabetes also. It was an excerpt from Alfred, Lord Tennyson's Ulysses, Allie's favorite book. It had become the de facto motto of the clinic:

Come, my friends,

'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

Push off, and sitting well in order smite

The sounding furrows;

For my purpose holds

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

Of the all the western stars, until I die.

Allie swallowed the tears and squared her shoulders. Then she stepped into the noisy room full of patients and crossed over the threshold of adulthood, into a newer world.

Dark as a Dungeon

Written by John Zeek

Henry Johnson was happy to see the three horses the family owned in the field. That meant that Anse and Hagen were back from the medical center. Maybe, just maybe the waiting was over. Henry pointed the horses out to Wendel Schultz and Suse Eckhard who were seated across the tram's aisle. "When we get to the house, I want some time to talk with your Uncle Anse and Hagen before you start asking for stories about the war. If you'll leave us alone for a bit, I promise not to interrupt when Hagen gets to the good parts. Deal?"

Suse looked a little hurt, Henry knew she had a bit of a crush on Hagen, and she tried to monopolize his time.

"No more than an hour, Suse. You and the boys will have Hagen all evening. Wendel grab your brother." His brother, Gerd, as usual, was seated directly behind the tram driver.

Henry was glad to see Hagen sitting alone on the porch steps when he walked up the driveway. Better to find out what had happened before he had to face Anse.

"Hi, Hagen." Henry sat on the steps beside Hagen. "How was the trip to the medical center?"

Hagen smiled. "I passed. My leg is completely healed. When my leave is over in two weeks, I can return to the TacRail Battalion.. . no, I mean the TacRail Regiment. The word came in the mail this morning. We're a regiment now. "

"And Anse? What did the doctor have to say about him?"