1636: The Viennese Waltz

CHAPTER 22

July 1635

The Hofburg Palace, Vienna

“Charming,” Empress Mariana of the Austro-Hungarian Empire murmured. Judy the Younger curtsied quite well, she thought. Not that the others were bad at it, but it was clear that they lacked practice and seemed a bit uncomfortable. Judy did it with style and not the least bit of embarrassment or pugnaciousness.

As she recovered from her curtsy, the young woman winked at Mariana as if sharing a delightful joke and the empress of Austria-Hungary was hard put not to laugh out loud. The receiving line was dull, but not quite as dull as usual. Mariana had been reminded that these things were supposed to be fun, even if they rarely were.

Prince Gundaker’s bow could be measured with one of the new micrometers, it was so rigid. The rumors of a blowup at the Liechtenstein house were apparently true.

Moses Abrabanel was his usual reserved and cautious self. But Mariana could tell that he had things to tell. It was shaping up to be an interesting evening.

The receiving line being finished, some gifts from the new arrivals at court were offered. Bolts of fabric, some of the new paisley prints with the double eagle of the Habsburg crest woven into the fabric. Then it was time to circulate before dinner. Mariana got several versions of the events at the Liechtenstein house over the next fifteen or twenty minutes. She decided to see what the up-timers had to say and spotted Judy the Younger. Not surprisingly, Judy shone like one of the new light bulbs in a dark room. Mariana made her way to Judy, dispersing a bevy of young lords by virtue of her rank. And when she had Judy alone, she simply asked, “What happened that has Gundaker so upset?”

“We’re barbarians destructive of the good social order.” Judy grinned. “But I’m sure Prince Gundaker has already told you that.”

“I don’t think he put it quite that way, but that was the gist, yes. So are you barbarians?”

For the first time that evening Judy the Younger put on a serious mien. “It probably depends on where you’re standing, Your Majesty, whether it’s us or you who are barbarians. I understand that John George of Saxony indicates his readiness for another mug of beer by dumping the dregs of his last one on whatever servant happens to be handy. Did you know that?”

Mariana was surprised by the sudden turn of the conversation. “Yes, I am aware of it. An unpleasant quirk, but John George is an unpleasant man.”

“To us, the way John George treats his servants isn’t all that different from how you treat yours. Tell me, Your Majesty, were you to find yourself visiting a court like John George’s, would you then request a second drink by dumping the dregs of the first on a servant’s head?”

“No!”

“Neither would we. Prince Gundaker felt that my sister saying ‘thank you’ to a serving girl was an offense against the natural order of the world. In order to punish Sarah, he dismissed the servant.”

* * *

For her part Judy thought Empress Mariana might almost have been a third Wendell sister. An older sister; she was about thirty. Her hair was almost the same shade as Judy’s, though curly where Judy’s was mostly straight. Her figure was more like Sarah’s. Well, almost a sister-she did have the Habsburg lip. “We hired her. Anyway, we brought you some other stuff, just between us girls.” Then she told the empress about feminine hygiene as practiced in late-twentieth-century America and which of those products they had been able to reintroduce in the seventeenth century.

* * *

While Judy was chatting with the empress, Sarah and Karl were buttonholed by Moses Abrabanel. The question was: how can we make money magically appear the way you up-timers do? The problem was that they wanted to do it without accepting the worthless paper themselves.

What they wanted was a Kipper-and-Wipper-like paper money. Everyone else would be expected to take it at face value, but the crown would only accept it at a discounted rate.

That wasn’t how Emperor Ferdinand’s “financial managers” put it, of course. They talked about crown expenses and the crown’s special status. Sarah at least found it an interesting, if infuriating, conversation. Karl was a little bored by it, but you couldn’t date Sarah Wendell without learning something about economics, so he rarely got lost. He even winced at all the right times when Moses explained something about finance that was clearly wrong.

When all was said and done, Moses was what Adam Smith would later call a mercantilist, opposed to free trade and a firm believer that a nation needed a great pile of silver to be a great nation.

“No. It just needs a good credit rating,” Sarah explained.

“Ferdinand III is the emperor of Austria-Hungary. Of course, he has a good credit rating.”

Karl winced visibly.

“Not the emperor. The nation,” Sarah insisted.

“The emperor embodies the nation.”

“Then Ferdinand has a sucky credit rating,” Sarah shot back and Karl winced again.

Moses’ face was getting a bit red. Not, Karl thought, because he disagreed, but because he was supposed to disagree and couldn’t. The Austro-Hungarian reichsthaler traded at about half its face value, outside of Austria-Hungary, and that was an improvement over what the HRE reichsthaler had traded at.

* * *

Count Amadeus von Eisenberg was a wealthy young man whose father was even wealthier. He had spotted the daughter of the emperor’s auto mechanic and wondered what she was doing here. She looked out of place. Well, not exactly that. She looked uncomfortable. Partly out of Christian charity and partly out of curiosity, he went over to talk to her. “Miss Fortney, I’m Amadeus von Eisenberg.” He wasn’t going to use the silly title “von Up-time.”

“Good evening, Count.”

“I was wondering. . do you think you could explain to me how the internal combustion engine works?” He guessed that would be a safe question to put her at her ease. Besides, he really was curious about it.

Miss Fortney gave a slight sigh and started to explain. “It works in essence like a musket. Save that a liquid rather than. .”

* * *

“Woman, get you to a convent!” Father Lugocie shouted. He was not happy with the guests of this gala. Using up-timer craftsmen was one thing, but presenting them at court was something else. He was also a bit in his cups. When he saw a young up-timer in a dress that left her knees clearly visible, he felt that the dress provided an excellent justification for putting the up-timers in their place.

During the reign of Ferdinand II, the court of the Holy Roman Empire had been dominated by the priesthood. While that was less-much less-the case in the Austro-Hungarian court of Ferdinand III, they were still a faction with considerable influence. Besides, being a bit drunk, Father Lugocie had forgotten the change of status. “Your dress is an offense to God.”

The young woman turned to face him. “Really?”

There was no way for Father Lugocie to know it, but he had picked on the wrong girl. Vicky Emerson was fully aware of the audience and had chosen her little black dress to be unique and different, but within bounds. She was also Catholic, and rather more religious after the Ring of Fire than she had been before it. Going through a miracle will sometimes have that effect. So she had become fairly conversant with the Bible and the many and varied ways it was interpreted. . and the way bits of it were taken out of context.

Also, Vicky cheated.

“Are you an expert on women’s fashions?” she asked.

“You are presumptuous. I am an ordained priest.” It wasn’t truly an issue of dress. The Austro-Hungarian court was hardly Puritan in nature. It was an issue of religious authority.

“I’m presumptuous? God picked me up, and my whole town with me, moved us halfway around the world and three hundred fifty-nine years into the past. Set us down again without so much as breaking a plate. In spite of which, I don’t presume to know God’s will. Except that, for whatever reason, He wanted me here. . in this world, in this time. Well, I did learn one other thing from that experience. Do you want to know what else I learned?” Vicky didn’t give him a chance to answer, but proceeded to tell him.

“I learned that in spite of all the supposed experts on God’s will-ordained or not-the Good Lord didn’t see fit to inform anyone in advance of our arrival. No Catholic priest, Lutheran or Calvinist minister, no Jewish rabbi, Moslem mullah, or Buddhist monk was there to greet us. No up-timers knew about it, either. There are a number of people who, after the fact, claimed prior knowledge. But they weren’t there when it happened.” Neither had she found a single reference to the Ring of Fire in the Bible. At least not one that made any sense without twisting the reference all out of shape.

Father Lugocie brought up Deuteronomy 22:5 and Vicky returned Deuteronomy 22:11 and 12 and added that while her clothing was clearly female dress, his was diverse. He seemed to be about four tassels short. She ended with, “Funny how people pick and choose the rules from the Bible that they decide matter.” They traded a few more barbs back and forth before a fellow cleric pulled Father Lugocie away. The main, or at least most immediate, effect was that everyone in that part of the room was reminded that the Barbies had actually experienced a miracle. People got a bit more formal. The title, von Up-time, which had been treated as something of a joke at first became a somewhat more serious appellation.

* * *

As Father Lugocie was led away, Count von Eisenberg turned back to Hayley and bowed stiffly. Suddenly the von Up-time didn’t seem a joke at all. Rather it seemed a description of the miracle that had brought these strange people into the world to change it-and with it the fortunes of all they came in contact with and more. Spreading out before them alike the ripples on a pond when a rock is tossed in, save that this rock was six miles across and tossed by the hand of God. What exactly was the social position of someone delivered by God’s own hand?

“Count von Eisenberg?” Hayley Fortney von Up-time didn’t seem offended, just confused.

“My apologies, Miss Fortney von Up-time, if I gave offense.”

“What?”

“I was curious about how the internal combustion engine worked. I didn’t mean any imposition.”

“I wasn’t offended,” Hayley assured him. “But now I’m curious why you thought I might be.”

Now the young count was really confused. She wasn’t acting like. . come to think of it, he had no clue at all what she was supposed to act like. Nor how he was supposed to act around her. It was a most uncomfortable sensation. “Ah. .”

“If I promise not to be offended, will you take my word and tell me what’s bothering you?”

Put that way he could hardly refuse. “To be. . Well, I saw you standing here. Ah. Looking uncomfortable. I. . well, I thought it would be nice to come over and. .”

Suddenly she was grinning. “Why, Count von Eisenberg! You came to rescue me.”

Count von Eisenberg felt his face go hot, but Hayley was smiling and he smiled back in spite of his embarrassment. For the next few minutes, they talked about the internal combustion engine versus steam. And Amadeus learned that though Hayley didn’t consider herself a steam head like her father, she did feel that until the supplies of gasoline, refined naphtha, became much more consistent, steam would have a very important place in industry and transportation. “That’s why we built a steam engine for the boats that go to Race Track City.” Her face lit up when she started talking about building things. It actually lit up, like there were candles glowing through it. At least, that’s what it seemed like to Amadeus.

Then another of the young women called her away.

* * *

“So, what do you think?” asked Julian von Meklau, another young man of Amadeus’ set. They were both sons of the nobility and both their fathers were rich as well as titled.

“I think that we are in the presence of miracles,” Amadeus said.

“Oh, come now, Amadeus. I thought you had better sense. Pope Urban has not ruled on the cause of the Ring of Fire. I grant that his elevation of the up-time priest is suggestive, but I think that was a political move, and apparently one that backfired. At least if Cardinal Borja has his way. You think so, too.”

It was true and Amadeus knew it. But that was before he had met Hayley Fortney. He had seen her when he went out to the track to watch the emperor drive his 240Z, but she hadn’t seemed anyone, just a mechanic’s daughter, dressed like a mechanic. Now, though, he had met her, and talked with her, and seen that other up-timer take Lugocie down a peg. All of a sudden he was reevaluating his previous assumptions. Thinking anew about the Ring of Fire and the shining eyes of a lovely girl whose understanding of the eldritch complexity of engines was as easy and natural as a lark’s song. “I know I have. But I’m thinking again. Remember right after we heard about the Ring of Fire? Everyone said it was a lie. Especially Lugocie and the Spanish faction. Then, after it was confirmed, they were saying it was the work of the Devil? Then that it was some unknown natural event.”

“And that’s what it was,” Julian said. “Like a volcano, nothing more.” There was, Amadeus noted, suddenly a touch of stridency to Julian’s tone. “And that up-time girl was dressed like a slut. Her dress was shorter than a common strumpet would wear and her arms were completely bare. Besides, she was wearing it to an imperial ball. .” Julian ran down. He was no great fan of the Spanish faction at court. In fact, he was a fan of King Fernando of the Low Countries. Normally he would have been more than happy to see Lugocie taken down, and wouldn’t be caught dead agreeing with him.

Amadeus grinned. “Oh come now, are we Puritan prudes, to be shocked at a bit of leg? Granted, the dress was a little risque, but you know as well as I do that Lugocie was only using that as an excuse. I think the juxtaposition of the unadorned black dress with the shortness of the skirt and the fact it had no sleeves probably emphasized the differences between it and what we’re used to.” Then he paused considering. “I’ll bet you a reichsthaler that she knew perfectly well how risque that dress would seem to us and wore it on purpose. Though I don’t think she was expecting Lugocie.”

“Why?”

“To make clear that they were not going to suit-No. . not going to lessen themselves to fit our standards.”

“That’s pretty arrogant.”

“Maybe,” Amadeus conceded. “Yes, arrogant. Or at least confident. But then, so are you. So am I.”

“But surely they must realize the threat they represent,” Julian said. “Shoving it in our face that way. . that’s crazy.”

“You know, I’m not sure they do realize.”

“Amadeus, don’t be daft, man.”

“No, really. Hayley may realize it, but the others. . the girl in the black dress. . her name’s Vicky Emerson, by the way. Hayley told me. From the rumors, things are very different in the USE. And they are up-timers. Maybe they don’t realize.”

Liechtenstein House, Vienna

“You know what she did last night?” Father Lamormaini said to Gundaker von Liechtenstein at lunch the day after the party. “She contradicted and publicly embarrassed a member of the Society of Jesus and a consecrated priest. ‘Women are not to speak in church, nor dispute with men over the word of God.’”

“I quite agree, Father, but there is little I can afford to do right now. Vicky Emerson, in her own person, is inconsequential and I would not care at all if she were to fall down a well. But she is a bridesmaid of my nephew’s intended, and Sarah Wendell-much as I would love to see her beaten like the peasant whore she is-is simply too valuable to my family for now.”

“How?” Lamormaini’s tone was both accusatory and confused.

“First, she will be acting as witness for the family in several of the cases brought against my family in regard to the whole Kipper and Wipper business. Something the up-timers call an expert witness. She is an acknowledged expert in matters of finance. Second, Moses Abrabanel has convinced the emperor that she can provide credibility to paper reichsthaler, which is a source of income that the empire needs desperately to counter the wealth of the USE, and Bohemia. She was involved in forming the Bohemian National Bank a few months back. So her expertise is internationally recognized.”

“Do not let the material utility of these vipers of Satan blind you to their spiritual corruption.”

“I’m not, Father. But you know as well as I that material tools are needed in the material world. You have gotten those tools from me often enough.” Lamormaini had, in fact, sold his advice to Ferdinand II to Gundaker von Liechtenstein several times during the old emperor’s reign. “Besides,” Gundaker continued, “with Karl Eusebius married to the Wendell girl in a morganatic union, and with Maximillian not having any children, nor likely to, the wealth of House Liechtenstein will, soon or late, pass to my line. Karl Eusebius has already been corrupted by the up-timer’s heretical beliefs. Would you have House Liechtenstein’s wealth and influence arrayed against the true church permanently?”

Lamormaini’s expression was not pleased, but neither was it truly hostile. The priest knew how the world worked, after all. As long as marriage to Sarah Wendell removed any children that Karl might have from the succession, she was too valuable to Gundaker for him to consider any action against her.