Grantville Gazette - Volume VIII, page 41
part #8 of Grantville Gazette Series
Grigorii watched as his prince read the notes the bureau man handed him. Vladimir looked at them closely. "This is clear." He pointed at a line of the writing that Grigorii couldn't read. "Czar Mikhail will . . . have only a few more years. The patriarch . . . much less."
"Perhaps not." Boris' face showed very little. "I asked about that. These up-timers . . . they do not understand what has happened. But their arrival changed many things. The librarian said that those changes will, already have, changed history. A lot. When I saw that place in the book, I, too, was shocked. The woman was very kind. She asked what was wrong, then saw the page I looked at. She said that there were things we could do. Send the 'aspirin.' That it might help." Boris nodded to himself. "With the first courier, we shall." The bureau man waved the notes aside. "That is not what I wished to discuss. The public library we can use with no trouble but the real wealth of knowledge is in the national library. From what the woman said, using the national library will entail some cost . . ." He shrugged. ". . . or unacceptable delay. I am not that concerned about the fees to hire a researcher." Grigorii snorted at that. He couldn't help it. Boris was a tight one.
"I am concerned about two things," the bureau man continued. "First that the researcher might edit the reports and second that he might sell reports on what we were looking into to agents from other lands. I think we need someone to take the library science course and, at the very least, watch any researcher we hire. For some questions we will want to do the research ourselves."
Vladimir nodded. "That sounds like a job for me. I speak the language and am less experienced in some of the other work we will need to do here." In other words, Grigorii thought, Vladimir is not a spy like the bureau men.
Boris was nodding. "That was my thought." He smiled. "That will leave the rest of us time to learn how the rest of Europe is responding to this place. Also if you would write the letter to the patriarch I would be grateful. That is an area where I suspect you have more skill than the rest of us combined."
* * *
Most esteemed Patriarch,
This is not what you expected to read in my report. Nor is it what I expected to write. The German officer was not insane. No one knows the why of it but the Lord God has seen fit to do something remarkable here. I am sitting in a room that has a window covered with a large flat piece of glass. It lets in the sunlight and the scene outside with no noticeable distortion. In the next room you can turn a knob and have hot water. These things could be the work of skilled artisans of our own time. However, they are not all we have seen. There are works of man that could not have been done by the men of our time.
The Ring of Fire itself could not have been made by men of any age. I do not believe that it could have been made by any power short of the infinite power of God. What they call the Ring of Fire is a circle, as near as anyone can tell a perfect circle, six miles across. Within that circle the land has been replaced with land of a different nature, made of different sorts of stone. The hills are as different as though in a single step you traveled a hundred miles. In the months since the event there has been some weathering. In spite of that, it is easy to see the perfection of the cut. The evidence we have found is too consistent to be false. They are from the future.
As I write this, I know that you will realize that I am only reporting what I have determined from this up-time history. The news is not good. War with Poland, right now, is destined to fail. Russia does not have the resources needed. As Colonel Leslie has said many times, the army lacks the proper training and discipline.
I must urge that the attempts to modernize the army take precedence. Also, that any attempt against Poland be delayed until that is complete. See the report attached.
Additionally, and this is most important, you are at risk, as is your son, our Most Holy Tsar. The death of either of you would leave Russia exposed to more troubles. I include in this package a vial of medicine that may assist you both, in the hope that it may help. The histories speak of your death in the year 1633 but they do not specify the cause. I have spoken to the up-time physicians, who tell me that this medicine is often prescribed to those at risk of heart failures. It has the added benefit of relieving aches and pains.
Also, see the pamphlets translated with the aid of up-timers. They tell much about the avoidance and treatment of disease. I urge you most sincerely to give them full credence. The doctors from up-time are already considered miracle workers by the local Germans . . .
Vlad had struggled with that letter. How did you tell a man that he was scheduled to die soon? Perhaps, though, the patriarch would be comforted by the rest of the information he was sending.
* * *
They had been in Grantville for what seemed like a few weeks, although it was stretching into months. Boris was amazed at the number of agents there, several of whom he was on good terms with. "So the Cardinal has decided to oppose them?" Boris wanted to be sure of what he had heard.
"That is what I've been told," the Cardinal's spy confirmed.
When the intendant left, Boris sipped his weak tea and waited for Vladimir to join him. "Most confusing," Boris admitted when Vladimir sat down. "France plans to join with Spain to oppose the up-timers and the Swede. It makes no sense at all. France is surrounded by the Spanish Habsburgs and in danger of being swallowed by them. Yet they will oppose the Swede now, instead of supporting him."
Vladimir wasn't as adept as Boris in international politics, but he understood the ramifications. "What is it about this place that makes the thought of a Europe dominated by the Habsburg beast a better sounding alternative?"
"Granted," Boris muttered, "an alliance between Grantville and Gustavus Adolphus would potentially make Sweden much more powerful, but at least for the moment that is all to the good. Europe is like a chess board with a dozen players and now there is another one, suddenly. And it's located in a strategic position near the center of the board. Could it have thrown the French Cardinal off his game?"
"I wouldn't count on that," Vladimir disagreed. "The man thinks a dozen moves ahead. We probably need to be looking at the long term consequences of a more powerful Sweden, as well. Muscovy and the Czar have probably given the Swede as much, or more, money than Richelieu has. Not in cash, but we have been selling grain to Gustavus Adolphus for the last several years and at a bargain price."
Boris took a sip of his tea. "It served to keep Poland in check. And Poland is the major enemy. Now, though, I wonder. If France no longer supports the Swede, should Muscovy continue that support? And I must admit that these up-timers are very confusing. These people can't seem to make up their minds whether they are peasants or nobles."
"I think it's a more subtle thing, Boris." Vladimir was pensive. "I think they honestly see no difference between the czar and a peasant. Nothing innate, anyway."
"The danger is . . ." Boris scratched his beard scanning the café again. "That attitude could spread."
"Is spreading." Vladimir nodded. "The Committees of Correspondence, I believe they're called are doing their best to spread it. I don't think they will stop at the borders of the New United States."
"How is it possible to have the good things of the future, the roads, the windows . . ." Boris waved his hand at the "juke box" that played in the corner and then used that same hand to indicate other items of technology. "How can we have all this and not have the ideas spread?"
As a dvoretskii, a rank that might be translated in the West as gentry or lower nobility, or in the up-time US as a government employee, Boris held lands and enough peasants to work them from the czar. That was what he got instead of a salary. He didn't want Grantville's ideas spreading to Russia. Without the peasants, his "pay" would be worthless. He thought about the power supplied by the generators, the improved roads, medicines. Those he did want.
"I don't want the radical political notions," he said. "What we need is a Grantville we can control."
Vladimir considered for a moment. "One cannot control so many people. Particularly not these."
"But one of them . . ." Boris' smile was grim. "One of them, perhaps two. That would be well within possibilities, don't you think?"
"True." Vladimir took a sip of his own tea. "A single up-timer or two. With all of his knowledge, in Muscovy. The more radical notions wouldn't go anywhere, not with just a single person."
Boris mused for a moment. "How much will one person know?"
"Not enough." Vladimir considered. "Someone will need to stay here to ship information back to Muscovy." He gave Boris a look.
Boris looked back steadily. "It will have to be one of us but which one?" He answered his own question. "I think it should be you, Prince. Because as egalitarian as the up-timers are, the Germans will offer you more then they will offer me. Nor am I convinced that the up-timers are truly as blind to rank as they think they are."
Vladimir nodded. "Very well. I don't object. That still leaves acquiring an up-timer. Or do you think with my staying here we don't need one?" Now it was Vladimir's turn to answer his own question. "I think you will need someone that speaks and thinks in up-timer English. Sending me a question every time a word doesn't translate well would delay things too much."
"Probably the best way," Boris acknowledged. "I'll start looking."
Vladimir nodded. "Yes. Meanwhile now that we have the more normal pursuits in order, I can finally sign up for the library usage class. It has a waiting list."
Early 1633
Vladimir was better educated than a great many of his peers. Even so, the library science class was a hard row to hoe. Perhaps the biggest obstacle was that he had never in his life been in a class. He had had tutors. Having to raise his hand to ask a question was a new experience for him. Since Vladimir spoke English, he was in the up-timer library course. For the second time. Unfortunately, the English he spoke wasn't quite the English they spoke. The differences were especially apparent in technical areas, and had caused him to fail the first time through. For instance, the word technical was new to him, though he could mostly work it out from the Greek. The desks, well, they were not what he would call comfortable. And it didn't help that the room was quite crowded. Stuffy, it was.
"Excuse me."
The words came from a young woman. Vladimir looked up at her. "Sorry," she said, smiling. "I need to get there." She pointed. Vladimir pulled his feet under the undersized desk. The woman stepped to the next desk over and sat down. "Thanks."
Vladimir glanced over at her a number of times during the presentation. "Why Melville Dewey was a Great Man." Vladimir didn't know. But the numbers made sense to him. The explanation of the card catalog and the way to find information—now that was what he needed. He scribbled notes furiously. So did the woman.
She smiled at him again when class was dismissed.
Perhaps she would do so again. At the next class.
Vladimir was surprised to see the same woman at the research center the next afternoon.
"Don't I know you from somewhere?"
She smiled. "We have class together. I remember you from that."
She had a pretty smile. Well, rather a lot of her was pretty. She was too thin. Most of the American women were too thin. "You are taking the class, but you are working here as well?"
"Just part-time right now. Oh, I'm Brandy Bates." She extended her hand. Vladimir took it and performed the odd handshaking ritual that was so prevalent in Grantville. "What can I help you find?"
Vladimir remembered Boris' advice, make a friend of one of the students. She was a student, wasn't she?
He handed over a list. A long list. The woman stapled it to the form she filled out. "I'll give that to one of the researchers," she said. "You understand about the fees?"
"Not entirely," Vladimir admitted. "Perhaps you would be kind enough to explain. Perhaps over dinner?"
She smiled again. "Why not?"
* * *
"Where would you like to eat?" Brandy asked. Vladimir had met her outside the doors of the school. He was a bit taller than she was, Brandy noticed.
"Ah . . . I am unsure. Is one place more appropriate than another? I was told that asking a woman to dinner was an accepted way of getting to know her here, but I'm not really informed on all of your customs." Vladimir grinned down at Brandy. "I would not wish to, ah, what is phrase . . . put your foot in my mouth?"
Brandy snickered then began laughing. "This isn't the first fractured saying I've heard, but it's one of the best." Seeing Vladimir's confused look, she shook her head. "Never mind. I'll explain it later. It's too noisy to hear yourself think at the Gardens and the band is there tonight, so it will be even worse. You can't say anything at Cora's without Cora listening in, so probably the best place to go for a quiet dinner is Tyler's or Marcantonio's. Castelanni Brothers, if you really like good pizza. Either one of them will be fine."
Vladimir made a sweeping gesture that invited Brandy to walk beside him. He had no idea what pizza was, but he'd try it. "Very well. We shall do that. Now, please, tell me about the fees you spoke of. I intend to do my own research when I finish that class. Why do I have to pay fees for this?"
"The class helps to know where to look for the books and how to avoid damaging them. Anyone is welcome to do research, after all. But it doesn't work if you just come in and start browsing around; we found that out in a hurry. There were more people than the national library could support. Last winter there were a couple of fist fights over who got to use a book first. So, Laura Jo Cunningham decided that what was really needed was a group of people who could read English and do the research for other people. That's what I plan to do."
"That sounds sensible. I should imagine that someone who knew how to do research would be helpful. But why the hourly charge or the long wait? That I do not understand." Going up and down the hills on foot did take time. But it was time Vladimir could put to good use, acquiring more information.
Brandy waved a hand. A shapely hand. "Everyone has to make a living, you know. The government couldn't afford to fund as many researchers as we needed. The demand just keeps growing, too. In the beginning they were all paid by the council, but they kept falling behind and needing more researchers. As word got out about what we had here more and more people came to see and stayed to learn. Then, someone offered someone extra money if he would go back and check on something after he got off work and that kept happening. It got so that everyone was doing it and eventually, Laura Jo decided that would be a good thing, really."
"A good thing?" The question in his voice was obvious.
Brandy grinned a bit. "The problem is we have two sort of conflicting goals. We want the information in the national library to be available for anyone who wants to study it. At the same time, we don't want the national library to use up any more of the national budget than it absolutely has to. In the public library in Grantville it's first come first served, but here it's researchers or you have to get a license and pay an hourly fee for use. If you have a license but can't pay the fee then in exchange for using the library, you have to do pro bono work, one hour of pro bono work for every hour of use."
"Pro bono, for the good . . . Ah . . . they don't get paid," Vladimir said. "So for every hour that someone there works for himself, and gets paid by people like me, he has to work another hour for the privilege of using the library. Those are the requests that take more time, then?"
"Doing the pro bono work pays for the library time. Not everyone can afford to pay a researcher. In fact, most people can't. But the money to pay the researchers has to come from somewhere. It ends up coming mostly from people that are in a hurry or need something special. Sometimes from people who think we're trying to hide something and want to look for themselves. They just pay the hourly usage fee and look for themselves."
