Eric Flint - Grantville Gazette.Volume XIX

She paused to consider some drawings of different positions. Then, with a smile, she made copies to show Phillip. Some of them looked.. . interesting.

Phillip was also busy in the library. It seemed a bit wrong that relaxation of the muscles in the target area was what was needed, but that's what the notes said. It was the relaxation that allowed a greater inflow of blood, and thus an erection. Nitrous oxide reacted in the blood chambers, the muscle relaxed, and poof! there you were. Of course, there was also an off switch or… well, walking around that way all the time would be a bit uncomfortable. The up-time pill worked by turning off the off-switch.

Well, if he couldn't produce the inhibitor, he could surely increase the amount of nitrous oxide available, couldn't he? Of course, he'd have to make nitrous oxide, and he wasn't overly entranced with one of the methods described to produce the gas. Any method that warned of the potential for explosions wasn't going to be amongst his favorite processes. There were other options, but they seemed to have their own problems. Maybe Hans, his personal laborant, could be enticed into making nitrous oxide.

HDG Enterprizes, Jena

"Hans, a moment of your time if you have it to spare."

"Of course, Doctor. I just need to add one last data point."

Phillip walked over to the large graph Hans was updating and considered what it indicated with interest. "I see the yield seems to be increasing as the pressure is increased."

"Yes," Hans Saltzman agreed. "Just like Le Chatelier's principle suggests."

"How soon do you think before you can commence industrial scale production of spirits of hartshorn from air?

Hans shook his head and gave Phillip a wry smile. "A while yet, Doctor. There is so much we don't understand. Have you heard anything more from Fraulein Drahuta? She would be of immense value to our research program."

"She expects to visit us in late February next year." Phillip paused a moment. "That is about when Dina is expecting to give birth. If I'm not in Jena when she arrives I expect you to make Fraulein Drahuta so welcome she wants to stay, Hans."

"Of course, Doctor. Now, you wanted to talk to me? You have a new project?"

"Yes. If you'd like to join me in my office, I'll go over what I want you to do."

With Hans in charge of making the nitrous oxide, Phillip set out to investigate ways to introduce it into the human body. The experiment Hans was running in the secure laboratory had given him an idea. The experimental apparatus combined gases under pressure to force the production of spirits of hartshorn. What if he used nitrous oxide under pressure? Could that increase the production of the chemical responsible for the relaxation of the smooth muscle? But how to introduce it? Phillip turned to his books.

The article on diving suggested a pressure vessel large enough for a married couple might do the trick. It was certainly worth trying.. . not that he and Dina needed it. But, as a special service for couples having marital difficulties, it offered promise.

The real problem with a hypobaric chamber of sufficient size was that it would be beyond the pocket of all but the most wealthy. What was needed was something everyone could afford.

Phillip made a few notes and wrote a memo to look into the economics of building a suitable chamber before returning to the diving article. He could try making a pressure suit. Something like the new hard-hat rubberized diving suits, only without the helmet. The pressure the suit could be safely inflated to couldn't be high however, otherwise it would burst like a…

Phillip grabbed his pen and made a note before he forgot this idea. A balloon. A rubber balloon, just like the ones he used in some of his demonstrations. Surely he could make a special balloon. Something like a pair of rubber pants that could be inflated with nitrous oxide.

Dina Kastenmayerin chewed on the metal cap of her fountain pen. Frau Hardesty's request for the other type of blue pill of happiness had opened her eyes to a problem she hadn't really thought about. One heard about men finding it difficult to perform their husbandly duties, but it wasn't the kind of thing wives talked about in the presence of the unmarried daughter of their pastor.

She wrote a short memo to remind her to talk to Step-mama. She would surely have had to counsel wives whose husbands were unable to perform their duties properly. What was really needed was a pamphlet. Something that any wife could easily access for help. But what to put into it?

She wrote down a heading. What Wives Should Know About Marital Health and Vigor. Then she proceeded to construct a list of all the things she thought should be included.

Several days later

Dina had a good fire going to take the chill of the air and was kneeling in front of it, powdering the rubber pants with talc. Beside her was the cylinder of nitrous oxide.

"Are you nearly finished, Dina?" Phillip asked.

She looked up, a look of happy anticipation on her face. "Just about."

There were traces of white talcum powder in her hair and on her face. She looked delightful. Right then Phillip didn't think he needed any additional nitrous oxide, but a true scientist must complete his experiments.

The now well-powdered rubber pants had been made to a carefully considered design, with strong waist and leg bands to stop the pressurized gas escaping when they were inflated. This was the moment of truth. Phillip started to put them on. There was a stifled giggle from Dina. She'd obviously noticed how little he needed any extra help.

The gas-tight leg and waist bands made it difficult to pull the pants on, but finally, with sweat starting to bead on his body, he got them on. He sniffed delicately at the amused look on Dina's face. "Connect me to the gas, please."

Dina connected the short rubber umbilical cord from the pants to the gas cylinder. Phillip took a deep breath. Time to test his theory. "All right, dear. Open the valve."

Cold didn't begin to describe the sensation. Phillip screamed.

Pop! The pants burst, sending a cloud of talcum powder around the room.

"The gas… turn it off," Phillip cried.

Dina scrambled to shut the valve, then looked up. She fell backward, laughing like a maniac.

Phillip ignored his wife's laughter. He had more important things to worry about. He disconnected the umbilical cord and made a dash for his dressing room.

He was a sight to behold. The pants were still on, but the front had blown out revealing all his shrunken glory. The nitrous oxide gas had had a definite effect all right, but it sure wasn't the effect he was looking for. He'd forgotten that gas stored under pressure could be extremely cold when it was released.

It seemed fair to say that the experiment had been a complete failure. The details of the write-up of this experiment would require considerable thought, if not outright creativity. There were some things the world's greatest alchemist did not want recorded for prosperity.

Next day, an apartment in Jena

"He's running late," Richard complained.

Carl checked the time on his wristwatch. "It's only just after five, Richard. Give Thomas a chance. He's said before that he doesn't finish before five, and sometimes has to stay late."

"Gribbleflotz is supposed to be a good employer, and very strict about overtime."

Carl nodded. "Yes. But Thomas is working with a research group, and you know you can't stop an experiment just because a clock says it's time to knock off."

Richard did know this. For a while there, a couple of years ago, he'd thought he'd had it made, siphoning off some of the explosives production in Grantville. But that damned female the company installed had instituted "quality control" testing and the Hart brothers had discovered the machine that cut the explosive into pound blocks was giving short measures. Worse still, they were checking the weight of the blocks regularly, so he and Carl couldn't reset the cutters back to the short measure. That had been a nice little earner, and it could have made him and Carl rich. But no longer, more's the pity.