The Grantville Gazette - Volume 7 Part 20

An unfit mother. But if she takes off with this, this-this German, Garrett and Carly will have no mother at all."

"She isn't an unfit mother." Kitty Chaffin gestured with her cup. "She never was. She fed them. She kept them clean and sent them to school looking neat. She never once left them without a sitter. And you know that yourself. If it was otherwise, you'd have brought it up in court when you were trying to take them away from her."

"You. What do you think?" Mildred turned to look at Salome.

The heavily pregnant wife of the Lutheran minister took a sip of the boiled milk in her cup. "It is not my place to have an opinion. I do know that under the laws of the church, her first husband was left up-time and will be considered dead. Her divorce from the second husband is valid, since he both abandoned her-that is desertion-and committed adultery. Those are Biblical grounds. We do not have as many divorces now as you up-timers have, and only those two grounds exist. But Frau Hollister's divorce from your son, gracious lady, is valid under our laws."

Kitty wasn't ready to let go of Mildred's other allegation. "She's always kept a close eye on all her kids, and they've all turned out just fine. Ray and Ronnie are in the military. Doing well. Ray's still up north and Ronnie's been detailed to the Mechanical Support Division. Ray's married. Ronnie's dating Megan Collins, who is a real nice girl. Vance is military too-a radio operator up in Erfurt. April's out at the mine, apprenticing to be an electrician. They all got their high school diplomas. Garrett will graduate from high school next year and go into the military, too. Carly's grade are good. What more could anyone ask?"

"Custody of the kids," Mildred said. "Considering that they're the only grandchildren I have."

"You're in the a.s.sisted living center," Kitty pointed out. "Because of the walker and all. It took three of us to get you down to the cafe this morning. Salome and him and me. It was one thing back when Horace was alive, but how could you possibly take custody of those kids now?"

Sartorius listened to them talk, twisting his goatee.

"It won't be hot on the Baltic coast," Lucas Sartorius said. "Not in the way you describe this Brownsville. I'm afraid that you will find it cold. Cold and damp."

"You do have fireplaces, don't you?""Yes. But mostly they burn peat rather than wood or coal."

"Anna will go back with us. She says that in spite of all Grantville's attractions, she would rather be with you than with her half-brothers, 'given how stultifying they are.'" Tina Marie laughed. "That seems to be her favorite word right now."

"But not your daughters."

"April says that she can take care of herself."

"Can she?"

"Why not? She'll have my house to live in. Megan can move in too, once she and Ronnie get married.

Vance and Garrett will be home most of the time. In a pinch, we could ask Ronnie and Megan to move up the wedding a few months. Have it before we leave. There's no reason they can't."

"So?"

"No matter what, she's staying to finish her apprentices.h.i.+p. I sort of doubt that there are many jobs for electricians in Wismar anyway."

"Which leaves the question of whether Carly goes or stays."

Tina Marie bit her lip. "She stays. I want her to finish high school here."

"Can April take care of her? Does she have the time? Or the will?"

"I don't really want to risk that. April doesn't have the time. Or the patience."

"Her father?"

"Impossible."

"So?"

"If Dietrich tries to come all fatherly on her, she'll just fight it. Rebel. She wasn't even three when Zane left. She's never had a father telling her what to do and she's not used to it. I cry every time I try to think about leaving her behind."

"Perhaps there is a solution."

Tina Marie raised here eyebrows.

"Move the grandmother into the house with Carly and April. With them, plus the boys, plus Ronnie and Megan, she does not need an a.s.sisted living center to take care of her. They can easily carry her up and down the steps to the street. Shop for her."

"That means that Mildred wins, I guess."

"You are giving them up to go with me. Can you tell me honestly that you would not feel better to have their grandmother with them?"

"I can't. But I sure wish that I could."

"Perhaps she will be so demanding of attention and keep Dietrich so busy that he will not have the time to exasperate April and Carly."

Tina Marie finally smiled. "If Mildred has to be wished off on somebody . . . Well, Dietrich deserves her if anybody does."

"I'm giving her custody. For a year. Carly's willing. So is Garrett. If they can't get along, all of them together in the house, we'll know by the end of the year. If they don't, I'll have to think again. I had a long talk with the child welfare people."

Sartorius smiled. "I have a feeling-an omen perhaps-that the plan will succeed."

Tina Marie turned to him. "I have a feeling-an omen perhaps-about marrying you. I'm not one bit the superst.i.tious type, but they do say that the third time's the charm."

Grantville, February 1635 "Pastor Kastenmayer could have done more to prevent this marriage," Dietrich Zuehlke complained to Kitty Chaffin.

"Well, maybe. But after I got to know your stepfather a bit, I figured the two of them were a pretty even match. Maybe the preacher thought so, too."

"It all worked out pretty well, I thought," Hans-Fritz said with his usual amiability. "At least, I didn't have to get married right away. Although now that I have the idea in my head, I may do something about it fairly soon."

Kitty grinned. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"I don't know yet. But what April said about a boyfriend sort of got under my skin. That if she was pushed, she could find one. I can probably find some pretty girl who's interested in me." He smirked at Dietrich.

"Go to work, guys." Kitty threatened them with her paperclip holder.

"I sort of doubt that anyone at the city hall could tell you how to get there," Ronella Koch said. "Why don't you try the post office. All the people who deliver mail have to know their routes and there's one that goes out that way, into the holler."

So Pastor Kastenmayer made his way to the post office and requested a favor. Bernita Walsh obligingly agreed to get the mailman on the route to write out directions, even though she just had to ask why anyone in his right mind would want to talk to Zane Baumgardner, given that he'd devoted the last dozen years to drinking his life away.

Kastenmayer looked embarra.s.sed. "Not only is he a lost soul, but a lost soul with a German surname."

"What difference does that make?"

"It is obvious. Some time between 1630 and 2000, some place between Germany and your West Virginia, the Lutheran church, as Gary Lambert would put it, 'dropped the ball' in regard to this family.

Until now, I have let my paris.h.i.+oners go out and gather in freshly cut sheaves, as in the case of the young men who will be confirmed in April."

"Oh," Bernita said. "Yeah, I'll be there. One of them's my brother."

"Ah. Which one?"

"Lew Jenkins."

"Sabina Ottmar is a fine woman."

Bernita pushed her hair back from her face. She was so tired all the time these days. "I sure hope so.

That's what I'm counting on."

"I have limited myself to instructing the candidates for confirmation when they were brought to me. I have merely placed the grain in storage, if that is the correct way to phrase it. I have not acted as an evangelist. But perhaps I should be a missionary. Although I may not succeed in restoring this man Baumgardner to faith and sobriety, at least I will try."

Bernita looked at him. "Good luck," she said. "From everything I know about Zane, he's not at all the religious type."

CONTINUING SERIALS.

The Dr. Gribbleflotz Chronicles, Part 2 Dr. Phil's Amazing Essence Of Fire Tablets.

By Kerryn Offord and Rick Boatright

1633, Jena, Dr. Gribbleflotz's office Dr. Phillip Theophrastus Gribbleflotz took another look at the bill. He was spending that much on candles? Surely not. "Frau Mittelhausen. This bill for candles. Who has been using wax candles so wastefully?"

Frau Mittelhausen sighed heavily before looking Dr. Gribbleflotz straight in the eye. "You have been, Herr Doctor. You use the good wax candles to heat your beakers. Why you can't use that alcohol burner the up-timers provided, I don't know."

Phillip paused to digest Frau Mittelhausen's statement. Well, yes, he did use candles to heat the beakers sometimes. Especially when he didn't want a big fire. The problem was that the tallow candles didn't give anything like the same heat. And they produced too much soot. Even wax candles, which burned cleaner and hotter, made a lot of soot. He often needed to use several candles at once.

He knew what he needed. Something like the "Bunsen burners" at the up-timer high school.

However, that would have to wait until he had access to gas. He knew there had been talk of producing "propane," but for now that was as far off as his much-needed aluminum. As for the alcohol burner the Kubiak Country people had given him, it was very clever. But he could never see the flame, and the alcohol was always evaporating, and it always ran out at the most inconvenient moment. At least with candles he could easily add more, and the heat they put out was greater than that of the single alcohol burner.

He returned to checking the bills. "There must be a better way."

1633, Jena, the new HDG Enterprizes facility Dr. Gribbleflotz walked around the site of what would soon be the head office and main manufactory of HDG Enterprizes. The new facility was a large compound with buildings for the various production lines, accommodations for laborants and other employees who lived on site, the head office, and the new apartment building for himself and his household. Finally, there was the set of rooms that were his personal office and laboratory. The current area of interest was the large waterwheel, or more precisely, the area where the waterwheel would be installed. Phillip could see the men clambering around the heavy structure that would eventually support the wheel. He joined the small crowd watching an older man slapping clay around the joints in the steel. Confused, he continued to watch.

"You might want to step back, Dr. Gribbleflotz."

Phillip turned and looked up to see Ted Kubiak. "What is he doing?" He pointed to Erwin O'Keefe.

Ted followed Phillip's pointing arm. "We want to weld the steel frame together. Erwin is going to thermite weld. Right now he's slapping on clay to contain the molten steel until it cools."

"Molten steel? How can you melt steel without a furnace?"

"It's a chemical reaction, Dr.. I can ask Erwin to explain if you like, but for now, just watch. This is really cool."

Phillip watched as Erwin set an odd package over one of the clay covered joints, lit a fuse and jogged back a considerable distance. After a few moments, the brightest light Phillip had ever seen burst from the package. White-hot droplets leaked from the bottom of the clay seals.

Ted pointed. "Those droplets are molten iron from the thermite. The clay holds it in, and the iron cools in place to make a weld. It's really neat to watch."

Phillip stared, awe struck. "Yes, please, Herr Kubiak. Do ask Erwin to explain."

Dr. Gribbleflotz idly fondled a crude iron ingot while he read the letter from Erwin O'Keefe. The ingot was the product of a final demonstration of the thermite reaction that Herr O'Keefe had conducted with one of the remaining thermite kits he had brought with him. The demonstration had so impressed Phillip that he had asked for a "cheat sheet." Herr O'Keefe's letter described the thermite reaction in such detail that he was sure he could easily duplicate it. Herr O'Keefe had even included a couple of alternative methods of initiating the reaction.

Phillip looked over at his cabinet of chemicals in their jars and bottles. He selected a couple of jars and walked to his fume cupboard. He placed a watch gla.s.s on a dished firebrick and carefully measured out a small amount of the purple crystals from the up-time "chemistry set." Then he added just a drop of the oily liquid, clicking the stopwatch function of his pocket watch at the same time.

While he waited Phillip admired the "Buick" logo on the door of the fume cupboard. He watched through the safety gla.s.s of the fume cupboard door as the purple powder ignited. With the first signs of ignition Phillip stopped his watch. After observing the whole pile of crystals burn, he retreated to his desk where he made notes in his journal. The observed time for the reaction to occur was within the range Herr O'Keefe had written. It was a most interesting experiment, but not as interesting as melting iron in a ceramic pot would be.

As he read Erwin O'Keefe's directions, Phillip could see a potential problem. The thermite reaction used aluminum. Aluminum was a rare and strategic resource. The Kubiak people had indicated he was lucky to get the few pounds they had been able to provide.

Unlike his aluminum pyramid, the thermite reaction could use any aluminum. Minor impurities did not matter. Phillip looked along his bookshelf, toward the model pyramid with its faceted gems. He sighed.

He had had such hopes when the Kubiak Country people had provided him with the ingots of aluminum.

However, his tests with the scale model had failed to invigorate the Quinta Essentia of the small rodents he had tested it on. It was the aluminum he had concluded. It wasn't pure. The Kubiak Country people had admitted that there were other elements in the mix.

Phillip already knew that pure aluminum would not be available until the up-timers were able to mine the ore. Well, they had admitted that there might be a way to purify the aluminum. However, it required a chemical he wanted nothing to do with. After reading the up-timer handling instructions and warnings, he was happy to let others play with hydrofluoric acid.He walked over to his store cupboard. Once there, he picked up the few remaining ingots of aluminum. At a guess he had half a pound left. Biting his lip, he turned his gaze to his dysfunctional model pyramid. Make that two pounds.

Seated back at his desk he caressed the iron ingot while he re-read Erwin's letter. An image appeared in his mind. He could see it vividly. He, Dr. Phillip Theophrastus Gribbleflotz, the World's Greatest Alchemist, giving one of his justly famous seminars, and as the piece de resistance, a demonstration of thermite with . . . Phillip looked down at the iron ingot in his hand . . . a specially molded shape. Something special. Something of distinction.

Thinking of distinction, he looked down at Erwin O'Keefe's letter. No. "Thermite Reaction" didn't have the right ring to it. It needed something more. A real name. Phillip allowed his mind to wander as he searched for inspiration. The molten iron could obviously be molded into any shape. It would take a little experimentation to get it right, but imagine, in a haze of the brightest light, forming an ingot of pure iron from the dross of rust. Phillip s.h.i.+vered. It was almost a holy event. Then it struck him. The "Gribbleflotz Candles of the Essence of Light." n.o.body else in Jena would be able to duplicate the demonstration, and if people should want to buy the iron ingot . . . Maybe if it was formed into some significant shape? The ideas ran through his mind while he visualized the demand for his demonstrations.

With a sigh he came back to reality. He didn't have enough aluminum to demonstrate the Gribbleflotz Candles of the Essence of Light at all of his regular seminars. It was a pity, but he would just have to limit the demonstration to maybe one a month. Maybe by the time he used up his small store of aluminum, the up-timers would be mining the ore for more. But first things first. Before he could do any demonstrations he had to be sure he could make the Gribbleflotz Candles of the Essence of Light work reliably. To have one fail would be humiliating. He walked over to the door of his personal laboratory, opened it and called out for his laborant. "Hans. We have work to do."

Several months later, HDG Enterprizes, Jena, the new facility The first demonstrations had gone well. The audiences had been most impressed by his Gribbleflotz Candles of the Essence of Light. The molds his personal laborant, Hans Saltzman, had prepared had produced finely detailed animals. The rabbit, the lamb, even a ram. Phillip smiled at the memories of his success and turned back to watch Hans preparing for his next lesson in alchemy.

With the electricity from the water driven generator, Dr. Gribbleflotz had been able to experiment with electrolysis. His first experiments had duplicated the work he had seen demonstrated at the water works in Grantville. Since then he had been adding things to the basic "bleach" to see what he could make.

Phillip withdrew the jar containing his latest creation. So far he hadn't had time to examine the white powder the laborants had sc.r.a.ped from the wash filters. This was . . . he looked at his notes again . . .

this was the twenty third result from mixing something with "bleach." Bleach was such an ugly word. It did nothing to describe the substance. "The Ethereal Essence of Common Salt." Much more satisfying.

"Light the candle, Hans." Phillip was standing just behind his laborant while he instructed him on laboratory procedures.