Grantville Gazette 38

'You ran out on your job with the council to warn me that the newspapers might need more paper, and it's crossed my mind that you might find yourself in need of employment.' He gestured towards the cleared desk. 'You seem to enjoy office work, whereas I . . .'

'You don't,' Veronika said. 'Yes, I would like to work here full time.'

'Good, good. Then let's walk down to the council and see if you still have a job to resign from, and collect your things.'

'I might have to serve out a notice period,' Veronika said as she rose to her feet.

'If you have to, you have to. Don't worry, the paperwork will still be there waiting.'

'How can a girl turn down an offer like that?'

****

The walk to Saalfeld was pleasant, but not as pleasant as walking behind Veronika as she preceded Gottfried into the council building. Veronika didn't seem to have noticed that he'd dropped behind, so Gottfried dawdled a little, maximizing the time he could watch her swaying hips. All this meant he missed the reaction in the office when Veronika appeared. But he did manage to hear some of it.

'. . . he won't marry you, you know,' a voice Gottfried vaguely recognized said.

'Gottfried will too marry Veronika.' That was Catrin, defending her friend to the end.

Gottfried waited a few seconds, just in case Veronika wanted to protest otherwise, before he pushed open the door. Catrin was facing down a man he recognized as the man who'd refused him his water discharge consent. Off to one side the man who had talked to him about coppice leases had a comforting arm around Veronika. That didn't bother him, because the man was obviously old enough to be her father.

He took in the scene before him in an instant, and said the first thing that came to mind. 'Come on, Veronika. If we hurry, we can get the banns posted before the pastor at Saint Johan's leaves for lunch.'

Catrin squealed and threw her arms around Veronika. Stephan Wachter slipped free of Veronika and walked up to Gottfried and offered him his hand. 'Congratulations. You couldn't have picked a better woman to marry.'

Gottfried shook the man's hand, but he was watching Nikolaus, who had an enormous sneer on his face. Their eyes met for a moment, and Nikolaus stalked off. He glanced over to Veronika, who seemed to be coming out of her shock. He had to act fast, before she started to think. Gottfried peeled her free of Catrin. 'Come on, girl, let's get a move on.' He dragged her out of the office and towards Saint Johan's.

Outside the council building Veronika stopped. 'You don't have to marry me.'

Gottfried put on his best wounded puppy impression. 'You don't want to marry me?'

Veronika dropped her head. 'I didn't say that.'

That was close enough for Gottfried. He reached out and pulled her close, so that her face was buried into his chest. He held her like that for a while, savoring the warmth of her body snuggled up against him. Eventually he tipped up her chin. 'So it's agreed, we go to Saint Johan's and post the banns?'

'That's not a very romantic proposal.' She giggled. 'What's Catrin going to say when I describe how you asked me to marry you?'

'She'll be most disillusioned, won't she?' Gottfried gazed into Veronika's eyes. 'Of course, she's also going to ask if we kissed, isn't she?'

'Yes.'

'Then we shouldn't disappoint her.' Veronika obviously agreed, because she threaded her arms around his neck. He lowered his lips to her's and . . .

The Arrow

Gorg Huff and Paula Goodlett

Willem Krause watched the Las Vegas Belle fly over and the left side of his mouth lifted in his patented half-grin. He was a charming fellow. Which was something he both knew and worked at. Krause worked at everything. Very little had come easy to him. His title was real enough, but mostly meaningless. He made his living as a mercenary soldier. He watched and as he watched, he formed a new goal. The goal of my life, he thought. He would gain an airplane-buy one, or build, or steal one, to take him where he wanted to go and turn him into a whole scout company all by himself. With an airplane, he could sell his services anywhere. Anywhere at all. To Krause it was obvious just from seeing the airplane fly, that aircraft would be of immense value in war even if they could never fire a shot. He watched the plane for another moment, then turned away. He had things to do. And he needed to be in Saxony to get the money to do them with.

****

'It's true, Elector,' Willem Krause said. 'I saw the airplane fly with my own eyes.'

John George of Saxony asked for another beer-as was his custom, by dumping what was left of his present beer on the head of his servant. It was a boring old joke a hundred years before the Ring of Fire. But Willem smiled as though it was the freshest of wit. 'They,' he said, referring to airplanes, 'will be world-changing, Elector. But I don't think the up-timers know it.'

'Why not?' John George asked.

'Because of the resources-or rather the lack of resources-they are dedicating to them even now.' Willem shook his head in only half-pretended disgust. Telling John George anything bad about the up-timers on his western border was always a good tactic, but in this case Willem was somewhat amazed at how little resources the up- timers were spending on aircraft.

The conversation continued, a mix of complaints about the up-timers and their destabilizing effects, upsetting the natural order of things. And the advantages of air power which, if invested in by farsighted members of the better classes, could stave off-at least for a time-the democratizing effects of the up-timers.

It took two more weeks and quite a bit of groveling, but Willem got the money and headed back to Grantville. During the groveling, they discussed whether it was better to simply buy an airplane or have one built. Krause managed to convince the Elector of Saxony that having one built, and having the Elector's loyal Willem Krause involved in the building, would mean that they were not dependent on the up-timer knowledge nearly as much as they would be if they simply bought whatever some up-timer sold them.

****

Back in Grantville, with a bank account filled with Saxony silver, Willem Krause started looking into the possibilities for airplanes. There were many people building many types of airplanes. The Kellys, an up-timer couple, were building three different aircraft at once. A pair of idiots, one up-timer, one down-timer, were trying to get people interested in building multi-engine bi-wing airplanes.

****

Money, Darius thought. Back up-time, big stars and rich people ran around in faded jeans and torn T-shirts. Not down-time. Down-time, real money was needed to have a wardrobe and having a wardrobe meant having real money. And at first glance this guy looked like he had real money. All those fancy clothes, and this dude was pretty well-padded, too. Not fat, but definitely nowhere close to starvation.

'How can I help you, sir?' Darius asked.

The guy looked at Darius and gave him this sort of conspiratorial grin, as if he had a secret but was willing enough to share it with Darius because he trusted him. 'Aircraft. I'm interested in aircraft.'

'Yes, sir!' Darius said in Amideutch, half-unconsciously returning the grin, 'Aircraft design and history have been two of our most popular research areas ever since the National Library was established. And they've gotten even more popular since the Las Vegas Belle first flew. We have a standard booklet you could buy. It has some basic research from the library and it contains the basic theory and the main formulas involved. It costs twenty-five dollars, but it's just an overview. There is a much more detailed and complete book that was put together by three researchers and examined by Herr Smith. He said it has enough information in it to get you killed.'

The guy looked kind of surprised and a bit bemused by that comment. But it was exactly what Hal Smith had said about the book. And Darius told him why. 'An airplane that never left the ground was unlikely to kill the pilot,