Eric Flint: Grantville Gazette.Volume VII

"Got to go, Michelle," Josh said. "I'll call again when I get back to Pittsburgh. Je t'aime. "

" Je t'aime au… "

The phone went dead at the same time a brilliant white light lit the sky and a distant sound of thunder seemed to echo across the hills. For a second Josh stood there, stunned. What the hell?

"What the hell was that?" his grandfather yelled from the living room.

"I don't know, Gramps. But both the power and the phone are dead."

Lou and Bart came into the kitchen, both with vaguely worried expressions on their faces. "The phones went out at the same time as the power?"

Josh nodded.

Bart shook his head. "Odd. The phone system is supposed to have its own power supply. Think I'll go take a look around town to see who's in the same boat. Want to come along, Lou?"

"I'm with ya." Lou turned towards the living room. "We're taking off, Joe. We'll call when the phones start up again."

"Party poopers," Joe grumbled.

Lou grinned. "Take care of the old man, Josh. He's getting a might touchy in his dotage."

"You ain't no spring chicken yourself, Louis Giamarino!"

Lou laughed and waved to Josh as he and Bart went out the back door. "Later, Josh."

Joe yelled from the living room. "Damn. Josh, come finish the game and we'll wait it out, whatever it is. But open the curtains so we have some more light."

"Come on, Gramps. Let's go find out what's going on. Maybe it's something serious."

Joe snorted. "Forget it, boy. Can't be anything that bad. Besides, I still think I've got you cornered here, no matter what Lou says."

Josh sighed and glanced out the kitchen window. Odd, the sun seemed to be in a different direction than he remembered it being. Josh shrugged and walked back into the living room.

For Colette, Henri and Colas, the strangeness started again when they came across the road. Colette had been lost in thought and did not realize they were on a road until she noticed the change in the sound of the horse's hooves.

"Stop!"

Colas and Henri reined in their horses and watched as Colette slid off her horse and squatted to stare at the black-topped road.

"What is it, Colette? What's wrong?"

"Think, Colas. Where did this road come from? Look at it!"

Colas nodded. "It is very nice. Nice and wide. And very smooth."

Colette got to her feet and looked to the south. The road disappeared around a curve half a mile away. Colette took out her dagger and dug a bit of the black stuff out of the road. She rolled some of it on her fingers. Sticky. She sniffed her sample, then tasted it with her tongue. Tar. It was tar of some kind.

Colette stared at the road. "Henri? Don't you see it?" She paced the width and looked at the edge. She rolled some of the gravel and tar in her hand again.

"It's about twenty feet wide, and perhaps a little more than a half foot thick." Her eyes closed for a moment, her mind occupied with calculations. When Colette got her answer she shook her head.

No, that's impossible. She looked at the road again, stamped on it with her foot.

Definitely real, she thought wryly. Not impossible.

By now Henri and Colas were staring at her.

Henri cocked his head in puzzlement. "See what? It is just a road. A very good road, true, but still…"

"Henri, this road uses more tar for every mile than the annual production from Finland! How rich are these people?"

Henri opened his mouth, then shut it. He understood now what Simon Dubois had meant when he said he was sometimes afraid of his daughter. She thought… differently.

Colette looked again to the south and noticed that the road did not follow the exact curve of the hill but cut through a portion of it. It was like a chess problem. Colette was fully focused, gnawing at it like a hungry dog gnaws at a soup bone.

Colette studied the road more carefully. How was it made? Too smooth for slaves or other human labor. Too perfect.

"Machines of some kind," she muttered to herself, "definitely machines. Wherever this road goes we will find machines."

Henri stared at Colette again and then shook his head. "Should we stay on the road?"

Colette nodded. "Yes. But on the side, I think. This road is used for more than just carts and wagons."

They followed the road for another mile, passing several houses before Colette's words came true. They could see a river and another road that intersected the one they were on. They were several dozen yards from the intersection when a square metal box on wheels came from the right and moved rapidly through the intersection. The horses spooked slightly at the noise of its passing.

Colas' eyes were as round as saucers. "Was that a machine?"

Colette nodded. True, she had expected something, but the reality of it was certainly different than she had imagined. Especially the speed.

"Did you notice the man inside, Henri? I think he was guiding it, like a farmer guides his wagon with reins."

Henri nodded. "What do we do now? Follow it? It's at least heading in the direction of Saalfeld."

"Yes," Colette said. "But carefully. You saw how fast that machine moved."

After another mile they found themselves looking at a large rectangular building. They watched from the edge of the woods for almost an hour. Many of the people moving in and out seemed to be young, under the age of twenty. But all appeared to be well-fed and in excellent health. Some left or arrived on two-wheeled vehicles that they steered with their hands. Others got into the metal machines which moved off with loud noises. The machines came in a variety of styles and colors but Colette noted certain commonalities. Every one had four black wheels with a metal looking center. And when they started and moved every one seemed to emit smoke to a greater or lesser degree.

Occasionally words were shouted loud enough for them to hear clearly. Colette realized that all of the people she saw seemed to be speaking English.

"English?" Henri said, when Colette told him. "What is a colony of Englishmen doing in the middle of Thuringia?"

Henri winced when he moved his shoulder. The bullet was still in there. Colette knew they would have to get to a surgeon soon. It needed to be removed. With all of these machines the Englishmen seemed to be master mechanics. Perhaps they had good surgeons as well.

Colette smiled. "Let's go find out. But pretend to know no English. We may find out more if they think we don't understand their language."

"That will not be difficult," grumbled Henri. "I don't know any English. And how is it that you do?"

"Papa hired an English Jesuit, Father Line, to teach me mathematics. I asked him to teach me English as well so I could talk to the merchants who sometimes come to Liege. After learning Latin, Dutch, and German, it wasn't too difficult."

Colas hesitated a moment. "Are you sure, Colette? Maybe these Englishmen are Tilly's soldiers."

"Colas, have you seen any weapons? Any weapons at all?"

Colas shook his head.

"Soldiers would have weapons. These people act as if they are safe," Colette said. "If Tilly's or Hoffman's soldiers were anywhere about, these people would be armed and barricaded or acting with fear. And if they do not know of Tilly's soldiers, then we can obtain their gratitude by warning them."

Colette got to her feet and motioned to Colas and Henri. "Let's go. Henri, keep your sword sheathed. When we get close, start waving."

As they approached the building several of the young people stopped to watch them. When Colette waved at them, they waved back. She heard bits and pieces of their conversation as she got closer.

"… Jeez he's big… Be great power forward with those shoulders… She's pretty… looks like one heck of a sword.. ." What was "power forward," Colette wondered.