Up-Time Pride and Down-Time Prejudice

by Mark H. Huston

  Regina’s eyes got a little wide, and she grabbed a fresh handkerchief to wipe away the tears. “Oh, my. It’s Count Johann.”

  Mary’s handkerchief appeared from a sleeve and she dabbed at her eyes too. She was crying almost as much as Regina. “Which Count Johann?” whispered Mary.

  “The Count Johann, the head of the Fugger Trading company. He was in Munich with all of us.” She turned to Elinore, who was still standing in the doorway. “Give us just a moment, and then show them in, Elinore.” The girl bobbed a quick curtsey, and withdrew.

  “Should I leave?” asked Mary.

  Regina looked at her for a moment, as she cleaned up her face. “No. Stay. You should meet him.” Regina motioned for Mary to move away from the bed, and to take up a position near the foot.

  Mary nodded her thanks, stepped away, and the door opened. Elinore stood to the side, and a rather average looking man stepped into Regina’s chambers. He was dressed in good traveling clothes, nice boots, and was followed by a very large blonde man who had to be some sort of security guy. The tall blonde’s icy blue eyes flitted across the room, searching and cataloging any threats, and he did it in such a way that was obviously second nature to him. The smaller man, Count Johann, was smiling and focused on Regina with a singular purpose. His eyes were bright and obviously intelligent, and he moved with an easy confidence that reminded Mary of the Chancellor of Tyrol she had met less than a month ago. There was a palpable aura of competence about the man that pushed in front of him in a wave. The tall man, who Mary decided must be a Swede, took a position by the door, arms crossed, back to the wall. Their eyes met briefly. His eyes were cold blue. There was no challenge there, just observation and analysis, with an underlying readiness for action, if needed. Mary broke the gaze first, and went back to Count Johann, who was now speaking to Regina.

  “Are you improving, dear? You are looking better! I'm so glad you are back home.” He was smiling, and speaking conversationally in a well modulated baritone.

  Regina beamed at him. “I'm so glad to be home, Johann. And I would not be here if it wasn’t for you. That place - dear God - it would have killed me, I am certain. It nearly did. Thank you for rescuing me. I am forever and always in your debt, Johann. You have always been good to me, but this was more than anyone could ever hope for.” She started to cry again, and he patted her hands.

  “There, there, Regina. The family always takes care of its own.” He smiled to lighten the mood. “Unless they try to steal from us, then not so much.” They both laughed at that one, Regina wiping away tears. Mary swallowed and smiled awkwardly. “Remember it was Johann Franz who risked much to get you out. You should thank him as well.”

  “And I will, as soon as I have a chance. He has been absent since we returned.”

  The Count nodded. “He’s been completing something for me near Augsburg, it’s nearly ready.” With that he turned to Mary. “And speaking of the project near Augsburg, here is one of the key people who has helped to make it happen. You must be Mary Margaret Russo von Up-time. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Fraulein Russo.” He came to her and bowed slightly, and she curtsied formally.

  “It is a pleasure to finally meet you Count. I too, wish to thank you for your help in freeing Regina. I am sure I would be lost without her here.” Up close, the count was physically not that impressive. He looked very similar to his cousin, Count Georg, but somewhat shorter, similar balding hairline, although lighter hair with distinguished grey streaks, a squared off Van Dyke, and a larger nose. Not unpleasant to look at, Mary decided. His most striking feature were his very intense grey eyes. But what Mary sensed, yet was unable to put into words, was his force of personality. Even when he was listening, or standing there, he had a certain presence, a charisma. She didn’t know if it was power, or wealth, or just practice that allowed him to command the room. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she could sense it. It was odd, and while she didn’t understand it, she made a mental note of it.

  The Count finished with dividing his attention between Regina and Mary, and turned his full focus on her. His gaze was deep. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but she was keenly aware of it. And she really wanted to make a good impression on the man. He was one of the wealthiest men in the world. Like Bill Gates, only more. This guy loaned money to kingdoms and to emperors. He smiled at her. To her surprise, he seemed like he actually meant it. “My cousin, Count Georg, tells me that things have gone well since you arrived, with the exception of the little incident on the mountainside and almost shooting Johann Franz.” He glanced back over his shoulder to his bodyguard, who quirked and eyebrow back to him. “But fortunately nothing came of that. Nothing of any consequence anyway, although it seems to have influenced Johann Franz more than you.” The look on his face was a curious one, slightly inquisitive and knowing at the same time.

  Mary could not figure out the hidden meaning of what he was trying to say, but knew there was something to the remark, probably about Johann, so she just said “Yes, it was fortunate no one was injured, your Grace,” and smiled back.

  He looked at her for a moment, as if deciding what to say next. He thought for a beat, then came to some conclusion. His delivery was precise, clipped, and matter of fact. “Things are changing, Mary. Things are changing in Vienna, have changed in Munich, and are changing even more in the areas we control in Augsburg and Swabia. Those things will take much of my time. The directive I have given my brother, and the teams here in Tyrol, is to use uptime technology - I do love that word, technology, the way it rolls off the tongue - technology - use it to get me additional production out of the mine in Schwaz. Competitively. Cost effectively. We have invested heavily on some up-time technology,” he smiled pleasantly at the use of the word again, “with your guidance. Invested very heavily.” He had expressive eyebrows like his cousin, and now they turned serious. “You are also going to do more work on the tailings piles we have across our holdings, to discover valuable extracts from what we have already mined, and have just sitting around. Research tells us there is money simply lying about that we need to collect.”

  Mary nodded. “It sounds exciting, your grace. I'm anxious to get started. I haven’t done a lot of chemistry since I arrived here.”

  “And of course you will be teaching still. And the consulting will continue.”

  “Of course, your grace.”

  He stepped away from Mary and turned to Regina. “You were right, Regina. About our up-timer.”

  “Of course I am, Johann!” Regina had sat upright in her bed, and was leaning forward. They kissed lightly on the cheek. “She is a treasure.” Regina gave Mary a quick sidelong smile.

  “I see why Johann likes her so much,” said the count. Mary felt her face turn red. “Keep an eye on them for me, won’t you, Regina?”

  “Of course, Johann. You know me, family matchmaker!” Mary’s face grew hotter still and she glanced towards the big Swede standing guard at the door, now with a slight twinkle in his blue eyes.

  “No, Regina. I need her working as much as possible. No time for romance. Her time is far too valuable for that,” said the count, with a mixture of seriousness and playfulness. At least Mary assumed it was playfulness. She wasn’t entirely sure.

  Regina scolded him anyway. “There is always time for romance, Johann. You should try it sometime. How long has it been now since your wife has left us? It might be time to start to start thinking about it again.”

  The count frowned at her. “I am far too busy for that sort of thing. I am on my way out of town, East.” He waved his hand in the general direction. “I understand that the emperor is not well, and this nonsense with Maria Anna and his brother is trying his soul.”

  “We will pray for him,” said Regina, and nodded solemnly.

  And with that, the count and his bodyguard left them. They said their goodbyes, and the room grew silent. Regina settled back onto her pillows and sighed. “I'm glad he came to see me. I was afraid he was going to be a
ngry with me for getting everyone in trouble.”

  “He seems nice,” Mary said, searching for something innocuous to add to the conversation.

  Regina shook her head. “Oh, no, Mary. Never make that mistake. He is not a nice man. He is charismatic, yes. And powerful. He is good to others in the family, loves his children and loved his wife, the poor thing. He is charitable, and pious as any, more than most men of the church. He will always try to do the right thing, for the family, for profit, for our homeland. But never make that mistake. He is not a nice man. Not at all.”

  Chapter 23 Dewatering and Power

  Schwaz

  Late August -Early September 1634

  By now, Mary had made several visits to the mine in Schwaz. It was impressive. The new uptime-designed boiler was big, much bigger than Mary thought it would be. It was about the size of one of her Dad’s old fire department ambulances. And it was intimidating. As it operated, it rumbled and made noises from its interior that were far more sinister than water boiling on the stove in her mother’s kitchen. She had been reading about boilers, steam, and steam engines furiously for the last three months, but this was the first time she had actually seen a boiler in operation. Well, almost the first time. When she was in fifth grade, she had to go to the boiler room in the old grade school back in Grantville to get the building custodian. Her teacher had sent her there because of a leak in the ceiling of the classroom. She remembered the darkness, the smells of sweeping compound and odd chemicals mixed together, and a glow from the rumbling old boiler. It looked like single orange eye peering out of the darkness and gloom. Her fifth-grade mind wondered how anyone could work somewhere so scary.

  Of course now she understood that she had been looking at a sight glass that was in the end of the boiler, and not a glowing eye in the darkness. But it had stayed with her. So looking at the large, brooding cast-iron and plate boiler, sitting in the open-sided shed by the side of the mine in Schwaz, she could not help flashing back to that beast that sat in the basement of her grade school. The smell was even similar, something with the steam, she figured. This boiler had been built and tested in Magdeburg, then partially disassembled and hauled here overland, in pieces, then re-assembled. It had to be ungodly expensive. The technician from the boiler works had already come here to start the boiler and the steam engines after it was re-assembled. And today for the first time since it was ordered, it was fully operational. The boiler was growling along, a coal fire beneath it, and the steam engine was turning its flywheel lazily next to it, sitting on a concrete base. A wide leather belt was driven by the flywheel of the steam engine, which in turn put rotating force into a pulley and reduction system in the ceiling of the shed. The boiler rumbled loudly, the steam engine hissed and chugged, and the driveshafts, belts, and pulleys rattled and vibrated overhead. The racket was considerable.

  At the far end of the shed was a surprise. In its own fully enclosed shed, doors now standing wide open like a stable, stood a piece of equipment that did not come from Magdeburg, but from one of the Fuggers own workshops somewhere near Augsburg. The driveshaft ended here, and the belt from it turned an electrical generator.

  There was a generator, or more correctly a dynamo, driven by the wide leather belt. But it looked like no dynamo she had ever seen before. To Mary, electrical things were always safely hidden away behind panels at home, or for the few electric motors she had seen, fully enclosed in metal with no wires showing to the outside. The up-time electrical things she had seen looked safe, isolated, protected from people touching them. The generator shed looked like something out of Frankenstein’s laboratory. She remembered laughing when someone in Wurzburg had told her that Burg Frankenstein was only eighty or ninety miles from Wurzburg.

  There were bare coils of wire on the dynamo, bare copper exposed on the walls, on switches, naked wires hanging overhead and tied on glass insulators, and all of it humming with electricity. There was a large primitive knife switch, it too humming with power. In many areas there were copper bars, bolted together instead of wires to carry the current. It was a crude, dangerous, high voltage death trap, and the down-timers casually working around it acted oblivious to the danger. One wrong touch on any surface was sure to end in a painful death. But in spite of the rough nature, in spite of the bailing wire and spit, it made power. Amps and volts. It was a real live power plant. Ugly, on the edge, functional and dangerous. It was very down-time.

  Ulrich Trufer, the mine manager, stood next to two technicians, with his hands wisely behind his back. Mary thought that to be very smart, and she did the same thing as she eased into the generator shed. Trufer saw her movement out of the corner of his eye, and came over to her. He bowed formally. “Fraulein Russo, welcome to the power plant.”

  She bobbed a curtsey in return, now a natural movement for her. “You have done so much in so short a time, Herr Trufer. I knew about the boiler and the steam engine to replace the old mechanical pumps. Those were all powered by water wheels, correct? But this?!”

  He smiled broadly. “Yes. We are replacing the water wheels with the power take off from the boiler plant, although we are still keeping the water wheels in place. It’s less expensive to operate the water wheels than the boiler, and there are parts of the mine that require the pumps to be in operation constantly to keep them dewatered. And it’s a bit of a challenge when the streams and feedstock channels freeze in the winter.”

  “So I've read in the reports,” Mary agreed. He gestured her to move outside the shed, to get away from the noise of the machinery. “But the electrical plant is a bit of a surprise, Ulrich. Where was it made?”

  “The family has workshops all over, Fraulein Russo. Most of the dynamo technology was developed quietly in a workshop near Augsburg. We had a small hammer mill at a site there, and it was not terribly profitable, so we changed it to a site that makes electrical equipment. We have access to a great deal of copper, we produce most of it in the region, and so it was a logical step to use your help to develop our own modern electrical systems.”

  “This is amazing, it’s an operable electrical generation plant. How powerful is it?” She glanced over his shoulder at the inside of the shed. It was nothing like the Grantville power plant, with its massive turbine and the down-time made steam engines. The shed was barely the size of a medium sized stable. So Mary knew enough to understand it wasn’t anywhere near the megawatt plants she was used to. And the dynamo was so primitive looking, she couldn’t really translate it into anything she was familiar with.

  Trufer was beaming with pride. “Our goal was a plant to produce 100 kilowatts when everything is working correctly, and we are very close to that. We of course had to make everything quite robust, as this is our first plant.” He pointed to the rotating device in the middle of the floor, about the size of a small car with a giant pulley on the end of it, driven by the steam engine in the adjacent shed. “The dynamo was actually one of the easier parts, once we developed a good bearing system. Metal ball bearings are a godsend to me, Mary. The tech that came out of Grantville allowed us to get tolerances down to where we could make a viable dynamo and make it last.” he gestured to the overhead shafts and pulleys driven from the steam engine. “And we could never have developed this system either. Our bearings would wear out too soon, or were so massive that you needed a full horsepower just to turn them.”

  Mary allowed her hands to unclench from behind her back, and adjusted her skirts. “I figured you were doing power generation because of all the time we spent on the math, coil winding calculations, and amperage calculations. Those formulas for electric motors, like for torque, speed, and voltage balance told me you were doing motor work. But I thought it was all theory. Or hydroelectric, which around here could make sense. What you have done is really impressive.” She rubbed her hands together in excitement. “When do we see the motors, and I assume the pumps? Did you go with positive displacement or were you able to get centrifugal pumps made?”

  “We actua
lly have a couple of different pumps to try. We have made them as flexible as possible, and using the graphing techniques you taught us, we were able to generate pump curves and get impellers cast in bronze that work. They are copies of up-time impellers, of course, out of books, but the techniques are the same.”

  “I can’t believe how much you have accomplished, in such a short time.” Mary meant it, it was damn impressive. The power plant was way beyond what she thought was possible. She should have figured it out from all of the questions they were asking. At least she would have something to report in her next coded letter to Grantville.

  “It has been very expensive,” Trufer shook his head ruefully. “We are developing techniques that we can ramp up across our mining group, once perfected here. It’s slow going, and there have been many mistakes, but your guidance has helped us, saved us much time.”

  Mary shrugged modestly. “That’s what they are paying me for.”

  Trufer bowed to her. “Indeed. Now if you will excuse me, we are having issues with the windings on the dynamo. Problems.”

  She curtseyed in response. “Of course, Herr Trufer. Let me know if you need my help.” Later that day Trufer and his team tracked down what appeared to be some sort of an issue with the dynamo, and a new part was needed. The part was already on the way to the mine, as they had manufactured several copies of everything they thought they might need.

  In the week while they waited for the part, Mary spent her time back at the Schloss in classes, or in the boiler house and the generating shed. Today, a grey cloudy day that shrouded the surrounding mountains, she was again at the mine looking for Trufer to find out about a set of electrical load calculations she had run for him. Dancing around mud puddles, she was on her way to his small office behind the generator shed, accompanied by Maria, her chambermaid.