Raphael interrupted. “Do you have buildings with copper roofs back up-time, Mary?”
“I suppose so. I never paid much attention to what roofs were made of. Shingles mostly. Tar. I think there are some fancy churches in Pittsburgh that have them.”
Leopold grinned. “There are 15,000 copper shingles covering the roof. It was an example of the wealth of Schwaz, and our family, the Fugger.”
Mary smiled back at him. “So, a copper roof is rare, down-time then?”
Raphael took her by the arm and continued further into the church. “In the time it was built, it was like covering the roof in money, to keep out the rain.”
Mary nodded. “I think I get it. This was once a much larger town. That’s why a parish church looks like a cathedral, why it’s so large. So opulent. So beautiful.” They continued the tour, past the statues of saints Florian and Leopold, the patron saints of Austria. The ceiling was a work of art unto itself, not for paintings or frescos, of which it had none, but more because of the complex web of arches that rose and interlocked three stories above the floor of the knave. The altar was complex and beautiful, and stained glass was everywhere. The thing that most impressed Mary was the organ, which was undergoing renovation under Raphael’s direction. It was massive and elevated in a loft. The whole thing, in spite of the construction dust, left her feeling deeply impressed. She looked forward to going to services there sometime.
As they left the church, Raphael asked Leopold to “run on ahead and tell your father we are coming…” With the servant and the security person from Schloss Tratzberg following a few steps behind, Mary was surprised when Raphael leaned in close to her. He had put on his doublet over his work shirt and looked much more presentable. She didn’t lean too far away from him. He gave her a rakish smile. “It disappoints me to say this, I think. But. There is a caboose, in Grantville, behind the old grade school, the one that used to be a museum. It is blue, is it not? A Blue Caboose?”
Mary very nearly stumbled. ‘Blue Caboose’ was a code word that would identify her contact in Schwaz. It took her a moment to remember the reply. “Umm. No. It's red and white, and on tracks that go nowhere.” She stopped and turned to him, in the middle of the street, trying to figure out what her next question should be. Several raced through her mind. She settled on one of them, glancing behind to assure herself the escort stopped behind them, keeping a discreet distance. “And why is that a disappointment?”
“Because we must keep our relationship professional, Mary Russo from up-time. And that truly disappoints me.” He smiled at her. It was a very nice smile, Mary realized. But way too confident for her tastes. The idea of him cutting a wide swath through the ladies of Schwaz was one that Mary could easily picture.
“My, aren’t you confident.” The sarcasm translated well she thought, and Mary smiled back.
Raphael just grinned. Then shrugged. A very Italian shrug, full of confidence, and just enough indifference to let Mary know that he did not agree. He put his hands behind his back and strode onward, tossing his wavy dark hair back off his forehead. Mary walked alongside. He leaned towards her again, “We are nearly there.”
“Where?”
“Fuggerhouse.” He gestured with his chin to the large three-story white building a little way in front of them.
“That isn’t a house. That’s got to be the Rathaus.”
“It is what is called Fuggerhouse here in Schwaz. The Rathaus is much smaller. At one time this town was second only to Vienna in population in all of Austria.” Two women, walking by, both smiled and nodded at Raphael. He nodded back, and then continued. “Fuggerhouse was built to manage all of the mining activity here, as well as a home for the family. At least this part of the family.”
Mary watched the two women, smiling at each other and then stifling a giggle between them, while glancing at Raphael. Mary raised her eyebrows into a query. “Friends of yours, Raphael?”
“One is a widow, the other is married. We are acquainted with one another.” He shrugged again, smiling. “As I was saying, the family of Fugger is widespread. This was one branch of the family, and they managed the ore extraction for years from this building. It is where Hieronymus and his family now live, and where he manages the restoration of the parish church, and other projects.”
“I get the feeling that Hieronymus isn’t the business type.”
“You would be correct. But he is a Fugger. So the family will find the best position for him. And it turns out that position is here, doing what he loves to do.”
“And what does he love to do?”
“He loves to preserve the history of Tyrol, the artwork, the architecture. And the role of the Fugger in that history, of course.”
“And you help with that?” Sarcasm crept back into her voice.
He turned to her, this time with a serious look that she hadn’t seen before. “That’s my primary work, Mary. But I also do other things, for other people. And while I've been told that you can be trusted completely, if anyone were to discover my other work, work which is more than just masonry and painting, then it would be very difficult for me. Do you understand?” Mary shook her head in agreement, a little wide-eyed. “The Fugger family is very powerful. Very. Powerful. There is a constant demand for information about them. Where they are investing, what they are investing, what currency they are buying, what prince they are supporting, all that information is a commodity, and valuable. There is a small but thriving industry around the family. I supply information to that curious market.”
Mary swallowed. “I see.”
“I've taken you on as an additional project, as a favor. To be owed a favor by those in power in the USE has…value. I'm happy for that opportunity, as there is much about the up-time ways I find very appealing. But do not jeopardize my standing here.” He turned to her with a frown.
She turned to him. “I understand. I won’t jeopardize your position. But let me be clear about something, Raphael. I’m no spy. I’m just some teenager from West Virginia. And frankly I'm over my head. Way over my head. Spending time locked up in the, well, that damn dungeon at Schloss Tratzberg scared the crap out of me. I’m so far from home that it isn’t even funny. And far from home I mean a lot more than some really big mountains between here and Grantville. I mean far from home, as in alone. I'm isolated. Y’know I was in Wurzburg, right?” He nodded. “Well, when I was there, at least I had other up-timers to hang with. Other kids I went to school with, we all went into the army together. We were like a support group for each other, a kind of a family. There was always a link, back to Grantville, and through that, back up-time. But here. Here, I’m on my own. Completely. I suppose that means I must be a full-fledged adult now. Completely on my own. Consequences for my decisions. Working without a net.” She stopped talking realizing she had been going on for longer than she should, looked at him and blinked.
He smiled at her. This smile was kind, and older than she thought possible from his youthful face. “I think your instincts are very good, Mary from up-time. I am your link.” He put his hand on his chest, and bowed slightly, never breaking stride. “Keeper and sender of secrets. I am not from up-time, but I can at least listen to you, if you wish. It would be my pleasure, in fact. But you need to tell me one thing. What does it mean, to ‘work without a net’?”
“Oh. Sorry, idioms. Tricky things. We used to mess with the down-timers constantly back in Wurzburg with idioms. The priest especially, he took everything literally. But back up-time, we had circus performers who would do tricks, like tightrope walking and trapeze stuff, high in the air. They would have a net below them if they fell. So they wouldn’t break their necks. So when someone says you are ‘working without a net’…”
“…You have no support. You are risking it all.” He nodded as he finished her sentence.
“You got it.”
“We have such performers in Italy, and here in Austria. They travel. They never use these nets you speak of.”
“That figures.” She snorted derisively. “Down-time. Gotta love it. What a place. Burn families as devil worshipers in the church yard. Plummet to your death for a half ducat. Different world than mine. So very different, so very hard. Every now and again it slaps me in the face. Like the basement of Schloss Tratzberg.” She sighed then continued. “I’m a girl who was born up-time, grew up, was taught up-time, and spent a lot of the time since the Ring of Fire doing my duty. And where I am now, what they are asking me to do, I don’t know how I am going to do the things they want me to do without screwing something up big time. But that’s the world I live in now, and I'm just trying to make the best of it. I just hope it doesn’t kill me.”
They walked in silence for a while. “So,” Raphael continued, “my secrets are safe with you, and yours with mine. I would hate to be on the wrong side of the family, or be put into a position of betraying them badly. It would not be healthy. Besides,” he said, brightening back to his normal cavalier self, “I've grown to rather like some of them. Hieronymus, his wife and family, even though Leopold is often very difficult-a strange boy, some of the cousins who are now at the castle, Johann, Leonhard --”
Mary stopped him by grabbing his arm. “Did you say Johann? As in Johann Franz?”
Raphael looked surprised. “Yes, why?”
“That guy has been a pain in the butt ever since I got here. He seems quite consumed by his own pride!”
“Trying to shoot him, and missing, must have been a small blow to your pride, I’m sure. Rumor has it that every up-time girl can shoot the eye out of a sparrow at three hundred paces. On the wing, no less!” He flashed his smile at her again, to which she responded with a sour face.
“Very funny. Darn Julie Sims, screws things up for the rest of us girls. So, you’re going to hold almost shooting him against me too?”
“Not at all, although I see I can get some distance out of it.” His grin widened. “You seem to be sensitive about it, no? I already filed a report on your rather ‘noticeable’ entrance to the valley. I am sure your minders in Grantville are proud of your ability to make a first impression. Probably go down in history as one of the top events in espionage history. At least as much as such things are written down.”
“Well, the count told me it was his fault, and they hold me blameless. I was worried that I was going to go to jail or something for almost shooting one of them.”
His grin positively split his face. “I would be disappointed if you had shot him. He is one of the better ones up there.” He gestured towards the north, where the Schloss Tratzberg was located.
“Great. He’s one of the good ones?” she asked, frowning. “If he is a good one, what are the bad ones like?”
They approached the front of the large four-story building that was the Fuggerhouse. Raphael turned to her as they paused. “They are like every family. Some are good, some are very bad. And they have money, and power. So very much money and power. Some of them understand the responsibility which comes with that. Others do not. Most of them do not. You will see.”
Chapter 11 Class, is not dismissed.
"F
ranz, I want you to know this, as a favor, from me to you.”
“To what do I owe the honor, cousin Sybilla?”
“Information, dear cousin, is valuable only in context. And the context is this. Up-time girls are, well, easy to bed.” Sybilla could see the blush starting on her cousin’s neck and cheeks. It was subtle, and he hid it well, but the blush was there all the same. Her cousin was the perfect candidate. Not too bright, but then so very few men were. He was experienced with women, she knew from his time as a soldier. She had heard stories. Just eighteen. He wasn’t married yet so there would be no barrier to a conquest. Not that that mattered so much. In fact, conquests for young cavalry officers such as him were expected. All he needed was some encouragement. She continued. “Everything about up time girls is easy. The way they dress, the way they act, they are constantly sending signals. The entire society is promiscuous to a degree that would make one of your sergeants from Tilley’s army blush. Certainly, you have seen pictures from the up-time magazines?”
The blush rose into his cheeks. “I have heard of such things.”
Franz was a bit staid, possibly more than Sybilla anticipated. “I know that you just arrived from Augsburg, and coming here, into the middle of nowhere, is an inconvenience, drawing you away from other important things, but it's what the family wants.”
Franz nodded. “The family wants us to learn from the down-time woman. I am not sure what she can teach me. The down-time religion is so strange as to be almost like a Protestant.”
“She certainly appears to be Catholic, at least on the surface. Not sure I believe it, but for now, that really doesn’t matter.” Sybilla smiled and focused her considerable charms. “You should talk to her. Be direct. She is little better than a camp follower in her actions and mores.”
“First of all, I don’t consort with camp followers. You have obviously never been on a campaign, Sybilla. Secondly, why do you want me to speak with her so?”
“Isn’t it obvious? She is lonely. And would welcome a certain interaction with someone who understands what she is looking for. It’s just that no one here knows how to talk to her properly. Since you just arrived, I thought it would be nice for you to break the ice with her, bed her, and make her feel better and not so lonely.”
Franz looked at her with some doubt written across his face.
Sybilla smiled at him, with one of her most radiant and fetching smiles, reserved for the most important of occasions. It always worked. “Franz.” Smile. “Cousin.” Smile, combined with a tilt of the head. “You do this as a favor to me. It would make me very happy.” She reached out and touched him ever so briefly on his arm, nodding in the affirmative. Smiling.
Confusion at first, then realization, and finally agreement worked across Franz’s face. He began nodding. “For you Sybilla, anything.” He bowed and kissed her hand. She smiled slightly differently when he wasn’t looking.
∞ ∞ ∞
It had been a week of classes. And she had survived. Barely. Mary sighed and surveyed her classroom. It was a large room on the first floor of Schloss Tratzberg, with windows along one side that let in lots of afternoon light. Mary had arranged for a chalkboard, and a series of chairs and tables so people could do their work. The ornate hall made the hodgepodge collection of miss-matched chairs and tables look very haphazard, but it was functional. Mary was tired. Dead tired. As she reviewed the first week as an “official” teacher for the Fugger family, she was beginning to believe she had bit off a lot more than she could chew. Again.
Mary had decided to do three different curriculums during the day. One for younger children, one for early teens through twenty-somethings, of which there were more than twenty five, and one for adults. The adult classes were more one-on-one by appointment, with special topics discussed. Her curriculum was varied, but most of her time was split between chemistry and math for the teens and younger adults. It was fortunate that one of the things that the people back in Grantville had done was to prepare information from the current classes taught in the high schools. She at least had a partial curriculum to start from, and there were multiple copies. She could pick and choose from several levels and from various subjects based on the needs of the students. Thank God I didn’t have to create it all myself, that would have been impossible. As it is now, all I have to do is keep a few days ahead of the best students.
Mary had always been above average with math, and had taken all of the advanced classes back before the Ring of Fire, and she continued her studies while in the army. She had a good grasp of higher level algebra, and had taken an AP calculus class. And she had done well in Chemistry and advanced Biology in school as well, and had aced both courses. She was able to graduate high school early, and join the Army. That placed her in the upper echelon of mathematicians in the here and now. She followed the Crucibellus manus
cripts, at least the earlier ones, and was aware that Rene Descartes was supposed to be inventing the X,Y coordinate system about now. Cartesian coordinates were was something she had been working with since fourth grade.
The curriculum she got from Grantville had multiple up-time textbooks, spanning grade school, junior high, and then high school, so by picking and choosing she was able to put together a basic math course, science courses, and even a geography course. She was also doing a small literature section, because there were quite a few up-time books in circulation, reprints of novels and short stories. Romance novels were popular with the girls, at least some of them.
After this first week, she was exhausted. She had totally underestimated the amount of preparation time it took to put together a curriculum, teach it, lecture, and grade homework. It was a challenge she hadn’t been trained for, and hadn’t anticipated. She now understood why teachers liked to take the summers off. And that was after only a week of teaching.
As she looked about the fancy classroom, with the ornate ceilings and the hand carved woodwork, Mary thought back to her first day of class. She started out with a basic roster of students of each group, provided to her by Hofer and an assistant. Once again, the number of similar names was mind boggling. There were at least five Marys and three Johanns. And everyone was a Count of Somewhere, or a Countess Whoozit of That Place. It was mind boggling, and Mary was decidedly an up-timer when it came to her attitude with nobility. Quaint, but hardly necessary. Mary decided that she was going to run a down-time style classroom, where first names were the norm. She had really never spent any time in a down-time school, so she didn’t even really know how it would compare. But she figured that she was here to teach up-time ways, so an up-time school it would be.
Mary had the younger students in the morning and the older students in the afternoon. The younger students were easier, a little more pliable and willing to learn to ask questions. They were also less distracted than any up-time classroom Mary had ever seen. The small kids paid attention, profoundly sometimes. It was startling, especially compared to an up-time classroom. With one or two exceptions, the children were highly disciplined, did their homework, and worked hard. Which made Mary work all the harder.
Up-Time Pride and Down-Time Prejudice Page 10