Grantville Gazette Volume 47
Eric Flint
Table of Contents
What is this? About the Grantville Gazette
St. George's Dragon
Lost and Found
Franklin's Monsters, Act I, Fine Arts and Crafts
A Knight’s Journey: Penance
Bartley's Man, Episode Two
Ein Feste Burg, Episode 8
Naval Armament and Armor, Part Three: Hitting the Target
A Purist Grownup Nerd, Kinda
Contraflow!
Time Spike: Evening in Cahokia
Grantville Gazette, Volume 47
Edited by Paula Goodlett
Grantville Gazette, Volume 47, 1 May 2013
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this magazine are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Grantville Gazette
A 1632, Inc. Publication
Grantville Gazette
P. O. Box 7488
Moore, OK 73153-1488
Grantville Gazette Volume 47, 1 May 2013
Fiction:
St. George's Dragon by Kerryn Offord
Lost and Found by Brad Banner
Franklin's Monsters, Act I, Fine Arts and Crafts by Terry Howard and Esther Merriken
A Knight's Journey: Penance by Alistair Kimble
Continuing Serials:
Bartley's Man, Episode Two by Gorg Huff and Paula Goodlett
Ein Feste Burg, Episode Eight, by Rainer Prem
Nonfiction:
Naval Armament and Armor, Part Three, Hitting the Target by Iver P. Cooper
Time Spike:
Evening in Cahokia: Part One of Two: Pyramids in the Corn by Garrett W. Vance
Columns:
A Purist Grownup Nerd, Kinda by Kristine Kathryn Rusch, Notes From The Buffer Zone
Contraflow! by Paula Goodlett, What's Up in the 1632 Universe
What is this? About the Grantville Gazette
Written by Grantville Gazette Staff
The Grantville Gazette originated as a by-product of the ongoing and very active discussions which take place concerning the 1632 universe Eric Flint created in the novels 1632, 1633 and 1634: The Galileo Affair (the latter two books co-authored by David Weber and Andrew Dennis, respectively). More books have been written and co-written in this series, including 1634: The Baltic War, 1634: The Bavarian Crisis, 1635: The Cannon Law, 1635: The Dreeson Incident, 1635: The Eastern Front, and 1635: The Saxon Uprising and 1636: The Kremlin Games. The book Time Spike is also set in the Assiti Shards universe. This discussion is centered in three of the conferences in Baen's Bar, the discussion area of Baen Books' web site. The conferences are entitled "1632 Slush," "1632 Slush Comments" and "1632 Tech Manual." They have been in operation for since 2000, during which time nearly two hundred thousand posts have been made by hundreds of participants.
Soon enough, the discussion began generating so-called "fanfic," stories written in the setting by fans of the series. A number of those were good enough to be published professionally. And, indeed, a number of them were—as part of the anthology Ring of Fire, which was published by Baen Books in January, 2004. ( Ring of Fire also includes stories written by established authors such as Eric Flint himself, as well as David Weber, Mercedes Lackey, Dave Freer, K.D. Wentworth and S.L. Viehl.)
The decision to publish the Ring of Fire anthology triggered the writing of still more fanfic, even after submissions to the anthology were closed. Ring of Fire has been selling quite well since it came out, and a second anthology similar to it was published late in 2007. Another, Ring of Fire III, is also in print. It also contains stories written by new writers, as well as professionals. But, in the meantime . . . the fanfic kept getting written, and people kept nudging Eric—well, pestering Eric—to give them feedback on their stories.
Hence . . . the Grantville Gazette. Once he realized how many stories were being written—a number of them of publishable quality—he raised with Jim Baen the idea of producing an online magazine which would pay for fiction and nonfiction articles set in the 1632 universe and would be sold through what at the time was called Baen Books' Webscriptions service. That has since become Baen Ebooks at this url: http://www.baenebooks.com/. Jim was willing to try it, to see what happened.
As it turned out, the first issue of the electronic magazine sold well enough to make continuing the magazine a financially self-sustaining operation. Since then, even more volumes have been electronically published through the Baen Webscriptions and Baen Ebooks sites. As well, Grantville Gazette, Volume One was published in paperback in November of 2004. That has since been followed by hardcover editions of Grantville Gazette, Volumes Two, Three, Four, Five and Six.
Then, two big steps:
First: The magazine had been paying semi-pro rates for the electronic edition, increasing to pro rates upon transition to paper, but one of Eric's goals had long been to increase payments to the authors. Grantville Gazette, Volume Eleven was the first volume to pay the authors professional rates.
Second: There are several different versions of each issue of the Gazette. It is now available through Baen E-books, Amazon and B&N, plus other methods. The on-line version, depending on timing, might still be in ARC status. That's Advanced Reader Copy. Our publications dates are 1 Jan, 1 Mar, 1 May, 1 Jul, 1 Sep and 1 Nov. In between issues, here at http://www.grantvillegazette.com you'll often be reading the electronic version of an ARC, where you can read the issues as we assemble them. You'll see the art and the stories as they are prepared for publication.
How will it work out? Will we be able to continue at this rate? Well, we don't know. That's up to the readers. But we'll be here, continuing the saga, the soap opera, the drama and the comedy just as long as people are willing to read them.
— The Grantville Gazette Staff
St. George's Dragon
Written by Kerryn Offord
November 1635, Tetschen, near the border between Saxony and Bohemia
John "Puss" Trelli knew someone somewhere had it in for him. Here he was, a poor sergeant in the army with a wife and a baby on the way. And what did the powers that be do? They assigned him to watch while they printed money. Well, maybe not money, just the next best thing—divisional chits being produced by Captain David Bartley.
He was sure he was drooling. Certainly the rest of his patrol was, as they watched the printers carefully line up the sheets over the plates for each new color. When that was done the finished sheets were cut into individual bills before a printer used a small press to add serial numbers.
Puss walked over to where the finished bills were being checked and stacked. It was there he realized that the gods had given him this assignment for a purpose. "Can I buy some of these, right now?" Puss asked the head printer.
"I don't see why not," Thomas Selfisch said. "But it's one dollar per becky."
Puss selected twenty one-becky bills and paid the nice man. Then, after asking for a receipt and something to protect them from being damaged, he wrapped everything together and slid the package into the sling that was supporting his right arm. He patted his package and went back to watching money being made. The rest of his patrol, having watched his every move, stepped up to purchase their own beckies.
Grantville
In the Trelli residence John Trelli's wife, Sveta Andreyevna, was the last person to sit at the dinner table.
"You're running late today, Sveta," Sue Trelli said.
"I'm sorry, Máma, I was trying to get rid of the smell of gunpowder from qualifying."
"That's right, you said you had your annual qualification today," Felix, Sue's husband, said. "How did you do?"
"Expert on the SRG, but only
Marksman on the service revolver," Sveta muttered. She'd expected to do better, but the trigger pull on the revolver she'd had for qualifying had been amazingly heavy.
"You don't sound happy," Katy Müller, one of a pair of sisters who boarded with the Trellis, said. "Surely you passed."
Sveta nodded. "But a higher score is worth more points, and I need all the points I can get to make sergeant."
"Why do you want to make sergeant? Because John is already a sergeant?" Katy's sister Elisabeth asked.
"No. Because a sergeant gets paid more than a corporal."
"I hope you haven't caught John's concern with money, Sveta. We'll always be here for you," Sue said.
Sveta patted her small baby bulge. "Thank you, but we can't remain dependent on you."
"Have you thought about writing a book?" Elisabeth asked.
Sveta snorted at that. Elisabeth was a published author and thought anybody could write a book. "My German isn't good enough to write a book."
"I'll help you," Elisabeth offered. "Now, what could you write about?"
"What about On His Majesty's Secret Service?" Sue suggested. "Up-time, the books movies were based on always did well, and you've got all of John's notes."
On His Majesty's Secret Service was a recently released silent movie based on a script by John "Puss" Trelli. Sveta had willingly transcribed several iterations of his story until they had a script that had almost been followed by the movie's makers. Of course, when she'd been doing that she'd been trying to impress one of the people intent on making the movie, Jabe McDougal, but the less said about that, the better. "It'd be a very short book," she said.
"That's why it's important you have John's notes. That way you can pad it out with all the back story and everything else they couldn't fit into the movie," Sue said.
"But then it would be nothing like the movie," Sveta protested.
"That never bothered Hollywood when they went the other way," Felix said. "Often the only relationship between a book and the movie supposedly based on it was the title and the names of some of the characters."
Sveta stared at her father-in-law. "They could do that?"
Felix nodded. "Hollywood used to do whatever they liked with a story. So there's no reason you can't go the other way. Mind, you'd probably be wise to include what happened in the movie."
"Why don't we visit my publisher and see if they are interested?" Elisabeth said.
Sveta thought about the last royalty check Elisabeth had shown everyone. It had been for a little over two thousand dollars, or about two months wages, and she'd written it while she was still working. "When?"
"Tomorrow?" Elisabeth suggested.
****
Sveta and Elisabeth returned from the visit to the offices of the Schmucker and Schwentzel Print Shop in Rudolstadt just as the sun was setting. They were met at the door by Sue Trelli.
"How did it go?" Sue asked.
"Not so good. They said I'm not the first person to think of writing a book about the movie, but that copyright laws mean they can't touch anything the copyright holder hasn't authorized."
"But John's the copyright holder, isn't he?"
Sveta nodded. "Yes, but I need his permission before Schmucker and Schwentzel will even think about commissioning me to write the book."
"They're interested?"
Elisabeth snorted. "They're definitely interested, but they won't touch Sveta's book without permission from the copyright holder."
"So the sooner you write to John for permission, the sooner you can get started," Sue said.
Tetschen, a few days later
The garrison of Tetschen consisted of a single reinforced regiment of over a thousand men. Then there were the statutory camp followers and hangers-on, who brought the total number of new warm bodies in the city up to around two thousand souls. Such numbers could easily overwhelm the available services. That meant that sanitation control officers, or as they were sometimes called, "shitheads," had to go around checking that the standards were being maintained. This wasn't a term of endearment for the Medical Division's men and women who were protecting them from illness. It was a term of abuse aimed at the men and women who were always asking for deeper trenches, or demanding that latrines be redug further away from the living quarters. They were even less popular when they did their rounds of the city proper.
Puss, with his collarbone still not completely healed after an incident back in Poland, was on light duty. That meant he got to escort a medical NCO as he conducted health checks. It was yet another thankless task dumped on the military police, much like checking the girls at the local brothels.
Corporal Bernhard Schmidt of the Medical Department came out of the tavern's toilets with his nose all screwed up. By now Puss knew what that meant—a failing grade. He prepared himself for the expected fireworks.
"I'm closing you down until you get that cesspit you call a bathroom cleaned up," Bernhard said as he made an entry in his notebook.
"You can't do that!" Jan Berisch protested. "You have no authority to close me down," he said as he crowded the much smaller medic.
"That is true," Puss said as he interposed himself between the down-timers. At nearly six foot and filling out nicely, Puss was nearly a head taller than the tavern keeper and about the same mass, and even with his right arm in a sling he could be imposing when he made the effort. "However, Corporal Schmidt can proclaim your tavern off-limits to military personnel until it is brought up to standard."
Jan snorted in derision. "And how much is it going to cost me to have this fixed?"
Puss ignored the not so subtle way the tavern keeper was fingering the purse hanging from his belt and looked down at Bernhard. "A new bathroom?"
"Just keeping the old one clean would do. And he needs to provide a means by which patrons can clean their hands after they have done their business."
"There you are Herr Berisch. I'm sure that won't cost more than a hundred beckies." With a smile for the tavern keeper Puss turned and ushered Bernard out of the tavern.
Once on the street Bernhard made for the small hand cart that contained his tools and signs. He selected a pink-colored board and nailed it to the tavern door before standing back to admire his handiwork.
Jan Berisch had followed them out, and had stood silently watching while Corporal Schmidt had nailed the sign to the door. From the way he was looking at the sign Puss was sure he was thinking of removing the sign as soon as they were out of sight. "That sign better still be up when I next come around."
"There's nothing I can do about people stealing signs," Jan said.
"Of course not," Puss said mildly. "Of course, even if it was stolen, you wouldn't allow soldiers to frequent your premises in violation of a sanitation order, now, would you?"
Bernhard snorted. "Wouldn't he just," he muttered just loud enough for Puss to hear.
Jan looked like he was thinking exactly the same thing, so Puss gave him something to think about. "The men might not be members of the Magdeburg Committee of Correspondence, but they are very aware of the importance of good sanitation." He gave Jan his best sweet innocent smile as he let the unsaid message sunk in.
The paling of Jan's face told him his message had been received. The stories of what the members of the Committee of Correspondence in Magdeburg were doing to people who violated the sanitation regulations had reached even this backwater. "Please send a message around to the Medical Department office when you have fixed things."
"Things?" Jan muttered.
"Things," Bernhard said as he handed Jan a formal sanitation violation notice.
Jan waved the notice. "I can't afford to be closed while all this is being done."
"And we can't afford to have our men getting sick because of poor sanitation," Puss said. He gestured for Bernhard to move on before turning to address Jan one last time. "The sooner you get everything up to standard the sooner you can let soldiers back through your doors. Until then . . ." Puss shrugged. He wasn
't that concerned about the man losing the custom of soldiers. There were plenty of establishments who were willing to abide by the sanitation regulations.
Puss followed Bernhard around several more taverns before the sinking sun spelled the end of yet another thrilling day in the life of a military policeman. He left Corporal Schmidt at the Medical Department clinic and headed for his quarters as the sun sank below the surrounding hills. His military police detachment had been offered a permanent space in the castle, but Puss had opted instead to have a tent. Not only was it warmer than a room in the castle, but he and his men actually had more space. It was also more secure. In the castle they might have had a door they could lock, but their tent was inside the perimeter of Captain Casper Havemann's infantry company. Normally that might not have been considered a safe place for a detachment of military policemen, but Puss' patrol had a special relationship with Casper's company. Not only had they fought together at Zielona Góra, but Puss had also saved their captain's life and led the company in a successful fighting withdrawal. And, speaking of Captain Havemann, there he was, sitting on one of the cots, watching three members of his patrol playing cards.
"Hi, everyone. Captain, what brings you to our humble abode?" he asked as he entered.
"I was admiring your tent. I intend copying everything you've done."
The tent was a standard high-wall internal-frame campaign tent with a camp stove, but Puss and his team had done what they could to make it as comfortable as possible. First there was the raised plank floor. That got everything off the ground, and then there was the tent-fly—a large sheet of canvas stretched over a ridge-pole that covered not just the tent, but some of the area around it. It provided a sheltered veranda type area over the door, but the principle benefit of the tent-fly was that you could touch the tent's canvas when it was raining and it wouldn't leak. In a piece of smart thinking, Corporal Hermann Behrns, one of his patrol, had insisted that the fly's ridge-pole be canted so that any water penetrating the fly would run down the pole and drip safely on the ground at the back of the tent, and not on the top of it.
