1636: The Viennese Waltz

CHAPTER 29

September 1635

Sanderlin House, Race Track City

“Would you like to go on a picnic?” Jack Pfeifer asked Trudi von Bachmerin. They had met several times since the Barbies had arrived, and it was clear that she was high in their confidence. Honestly, Jack was a little nervous about asking her out, but since the family’s fortunes had increased, his mother was making matrimonial noises. And Trudi was someone he could talk to. Besides, she was very pretty.

Trudi looked over at him, eyes wide, and Jack wondered what she would say. Then her eyes narrowed, and then she smiled. “That’s a lovely idea. I’ll get the girls and we can do it Saturday afternoon.”

Jack wasn’t sure whether to be thrilled or disappointed. He had three days to work it out.

Fortney House, Race Track City

“We have to invite Amadeus,” Hayley said, as soon as the notion of a picnic was brought up.

Judy hid a grin. She approved of Amadeus for Hayley. He seemed like a nice guy.

With a smirk and a sidelong look at Susan, Millicent said, “Well, in that case, we’d better make sure the food is kosher, because we’ll be inviting Moses Abrabanel.”

“Why?” Susan asked.

“If you don’t, I will,” Millicent said.

Susan blushed, then said, “I’ll ask him, you little. .” Susan apparently found the right insult hard to find.

Good job, Millie, thought Judy.

“If I don’t get Moses, who do I get?” Millicent pouted. “Hayley, have Mozart bring some of his friends.”

“He’s not Mozart,” Hayley said. “I don’t think he even plays an instrument.”

“And somebody ought to invite that cute Dr. Faust,” Judy said.

“Yes,” Millicent chimed in. “He’s kind of cute.”

“What’s with you, Millie?” asked Vicky. “Did you finally reach puberty?”

Millicent stuck out her tongue, but didn’t say anything. They were all a little careful of romantic discussions around Vicky. Bill Magen’s death was only a few months ago.

“That’s not enough men,” Judy added. “We have Amadeus for Hayley, and Dr. Faust for Millie. Jack for Trudi, since he started all this. Moses-”

“I don’t know about that. I may want Amadeus instead,” Trudi said.

“You keep your paws off Amadeus,” Hayley said.

“In that case, you need to invite a couple of spares. Moses for Susan, but what about Gabrielle, Vicky, and Judy? Oh, I know. Have Amadeus invite Bishop Leo. You saw the way he looked at Judy at the plane and again at the party. I don’t think he’s that committed to the church.”

“I can find my own fellows, thanks,” Judy said.

“And I’m not interested. So you only need six,” said Vicky.

“I’m not sure I’m interested either,” Gabrielle said. “I grant that the rubbers that are available now will probably work well enough, but I have school and I don’t need the distraction.”

“I didn’t mean you should wrestle them to the ground and have your way with them,” Millicent said. “Just that it’s better to have enough guys around to match the number of girls. It makes the seating arrangements easier, if nothing else.”

“Right. So we need three more guys?” Judy asked. “Hayley, have Amadeus round up some extras. Not Leo Habsburg. He’s probably too busy anyway. Make it four more guys. Let’s invite Carla Barclay too.”

“What about Suzi?” asked Millicent.

“No, she’s involved with Neil O’Conner, and I don’t want to invite him,” Judy said. “He’s a jerk.”

Fortney House, Race Track City

“So I need you to round up some of your friends,” Hayley finished her explanation.

“Moses Abrabanel?” Amadeus said, almost scandalized.

“What’s wrong with him?” Hayley asked, sounding like Amadeus had better be careful what he said. “Is it because he’s Jewish?”

Honestly, it was at least a little because Moses was Jewish. But Amadeus was a fairly socially adept young man, so he didn’t say that. Instead he said, “He’s almost thirty!”

Hayley shrugged. “I guess she likes them older.”

Amadeus considered and said he’d see what he could do. He would have to discuss it with his father, and his mother was probably going to want some sort of chaperone, especially when she found out that a Jew was going come along. So he wondered. . Well, if he could get his brother-in-law Marton as a chaperone, he would also be one of the guys he was supposed to round up.

Eisenberg House, Vienna

Marton wasn’t thrilled with the idea but Amadeus called in a favor. And besides, Marton had several deals going with the Jewish banker. So while Amadeus talked to Julian von Meklau and Rudolf von Kesmark, Marton talked with Moses. As it happened, they discussed it with Archduke Leo, the emperor’s younger brother, in the room.

“You’re going on a picnic? Where are you going?” Leo asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe the water park out at Race Track City,” Moses said.

“And why were you invited?”

“I think the idea is that Hayley Fortney wanted company to keep Amadeus from pressing his suit too vigorously, and Moses is there as extra company,” said Marton.

“Well then, a bit more extra company will not be amiss. I’ll borrow the steamboat and we can steam up the river to the family hunting lodge.” The Habsburg family had several properties near the vicinity of Vienna. Race Track City was located on one a few miles downriver from Vienna. The one Leo was talking about was not a lot farther, but upriver, on the north side. It was a hunting lodge in the sense that the up-time Taj Mahal was a tomb, but it did have plants and animals and outdoors.

Marton didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t at all sure that the young ladies were going to be pleased to have the duke along. But then, how did you tell the brother of the emperor of Austria-Hungary that he wasn’t invited?

* * *

Julian von Meklau wanted to know, “Which one do I get?”

“You don’t get any, Julian. You ass. You’ll be lucky if you don’t get stepped on. Have you noticed that they have their own money?”

“I’ve seen it, but I haven’t taken any,” Julian said. “Father says it’s worthless.”

“That’s because your father is an idiot,” Rudolf von Kesmark told him. “The Abrabanels are taking it at face value. That means they think it’s worth more than the reich money.”

“The reich-” Julian started.

“Never mind. Take it or don’t, as you like. I know my father is taking it at face value and so is Marton.” Amadeus’ brother-in-law was a count because he had enough money to buy a county, and had. Ferdinand II, and now Ferdinand III, depended on Marton for financial acumen as well as cash. He held no official post in the government, but he was listened to.

Julian looked stubborn, but dropped the matter. Julian was not stupid but he was influenced by his parents, who were very much of a conservative nature.

“I think Judith Wendell is the prettiest,” Rudolph said, laying his claim.

Amadeus just shook his head. He was pretty sure his friends were in line for a rude awakening and he just hoped they didn’t embarrass him too much.

Fortney House, Race Track City

“This is turning into a circus,” Trudi complained. “All I wanted was a little company to keep things cool while Jack and I got to know each other.”

“It’s your own fault,” Susan said, with not much in the way of sympathy. Susan was uncomfortable about the whole thing. She had no idea what she and Moses would talk about in a social situation.

She looked over at Judy, who seemed to think the whole situation funny, and for just a moment she hated her long-time friend for the way she was always so comfortable in social situations. Judy was never at a loss for how to behave.

“Well, on the up side, there are going to be enough men to go around,” said Millicent. “We may even have a couple of spares.”

Vienna docks

Saturday morning dawned bright and crisp, but with not a cloud in the sky. It looked to be a hot day by afternoon and Moses Abrabanel was wondering what he was doing. He wasn’t working on a Saturday and the Jewish community in Vienna was fairly cosmopolitan anyway. But he was going on a social engagement with a gentile and he wasn’t Rebecca, to marry a gentile. Not that that had stopped his father, his mother, and his sister from teasing him over the matter. Teasing gently, because he had only lost his bride a year ago. Still, his mother had commented that the mourning period was more than over, and his little daughter need a mother, not just a hired wet nurse.

Those were the thoughts running through his mind as he walked up the gangplank to the royal steamboat that would take them to Race Track City. Amadeus and a couple of his young friends were already there, as was Jakusch Pfeifer, looking pretty uncomfortable in the august company.

Marton was fiddling with a rifle that he had bought from a gun maker in Suhl. It was a copy of a Cardinal and fairly expensive. Marton was an avid hunter when he had the time, but he had bought that rifle right after he heard about Polyxena, and Moses didn’t doubt that it was royal-or at least ducal-game that Marton wanted to hunt. He had loved the silly girl. It hadn’t just been a social mariage.

On the other hand, Marton had always liked guns. They were his hobby.

Archduke Leo waved to Moses as he rode up and left the horse with a retainer to return to the stables. Then he bounced up the gangplank, all youthful energy. “Are we ready to go?

“Yes, Your Grace. Dr. Faust is out at Race Track City,” Amadeus offered.

And they were off. Jakusch Pfeifer stayed diffident during the trip, not speaking unless spoken to. Amadeus and his friends were boisterous, but somewhat restrained by the duke, who wasn’t restrained much at all.

Marton tried to bring out Jakusch with some success, talking about the businesses out in Race Track City and the Liechtenstein Tower, which was in the preconstruction “dig up the lot” phase. The value of the Tower, and the number of tenants. The tower would be expensive, but Jakusch was convinced it would pay for itself in ten years, and in the meantime it would be a major status symbol for the Liechtensteins. . and for the Barbies, of course. Clear evidence of the value of their shares.

Moses tried to stay out of that conversation. It was Saturday, after all. And he did try to avoid doing business on a Saturday.

* * *

Carla Ann Barclay had lied to her parents to come here this morning. They knew she was coming to Race Track City, but not that she was going on a picnic with the Barbie Consortium and a bevy of local nobles. For some unfathomable reason, Mom seemed convinced that every down-timer with a title-any title-was just waiting to get her alone to practice droit du seigneur. Well, she was going to be with the Barbies and no one was going to mess with them. She hoped.

The barge pulled up to the docks and everyone piled on, carrying baskets. There were thermoses of coffee and coolers with chilled wine and cold meats, bread and fruits. It was to be a well-stocked picnic and everyone was apparently in a good mood, even the guards.

Judy Wendell was busily introducing everyone to everyone, even the people she didn’t know. Carla wished she knew how Judy did it.

Then Vicky Emerson saw the rifle. “Is that a Cardinal?”

One of the older down-timers-He must be over thirty, Carla thought-said, “Yes. I bought it from the gunsmiths of Suhl last year.”

“I bet it’s from U.S. Waffen Fabrik.”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Oh, Vicky’s a gun nut,” said Judy. “Knows all about guns and who makes them. She brought her own arsenal. Won’t leave home without it.”

“Is she like that other up-timer?” The old guy paused, like he was trying to remember a name.

“I’m not the markswoman that Julie Sims is,” Vicky said, “but I’m better with pistols.” She opened her purse and pulled out a six-shot handgun that would have made Dirty Harry proud.

“I recognize that. It’s also made by U.S. Waffen Fabrik.”

“Not this one. I had it specially machined in Grantville. It’s match quality. But, yes, they make one much like it. I like mine. It has more stopping power.”

Carla drifted away a bit, uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation, and left Vicky and the old guy to their discussion of murder and mayhem.

Judy Wendell was talking to Gabrielle Ugolini, Archduke Leo and Dr. Faust, with no regard for their ranks, and managing to get them to talk to each other. Dr. Faust was building a glider and Archduke Leo was very interested in flight. Gabrielle was talking about biochemistry and the use of vitamins to prevent deficiency diseases.

Carla drifted on again. There was Hayley, surrounded by three guys about their age. Carla guessed that one of them was Amadeus. Probably the blond. He was giving the other two “get lost” looks. He had a beard, though you could barely tell, it was so light. The other guys weren’t taking the hint. Both had long noses and one had black hair, the other brown. Carla drifted in their direction, then Hayley was waving her over. Apparently glad of reinforcements.

“Gentlemen, this is Carla Ann Barclay von Up-time.” Turning to Carla she added, “We were just talking about that Shirley Temple movie, the one where she tap dances. What was the title, do you know?”

“The Little General?” Carla asked. “That’s the one they were showing at the theater this week. But Shirley Temple danced in most of her movies, I think.”

“That’s the one,” the guy with black hair said. “Those clicks. Rudolph says that it was the black man clicking the heels of his shoes, not the sound track.”

“It was the toes of his shoes,” Carla said. “That was Bill ‘Bojangles’ Robinson. He was one of the greatest tap dancers in history.”

“Maybe. But no one could do that. They added the sound later, like they do the German voices. I saw Singing in the Rain and it said right on the screen that the voices and singing had been done by down-timers.”

“They do do that. In fact, it was Els Engel who did the Kathy Selden voice and singing. But in terms of the taps, it’s all Bojangles. I saw that movie up-time before the Ring of Fire in Baltimore. It’s just the same. I know, because it’s famous among tap dancers.”

“Are there any tap dancers?” asked the brown-haired guy, probably Rudolph. “I mean, in this century.”

“Well, I know tap. I took it for years before the Ring of Fire,” Carla said.

Carla was wearing a calf-length pleated skirt and regular shoes. Not tap shoes. In fact, she didn’t have tap shoes anymore. Her last pair of taps had been left in Baltimore. And she was way out of practice, though she still tapped some, just for fun. She lifted her left foot and did a quick staccato toe tap. It wasn’t the dance part, but then Carla wasn’t that into the dance part. She had focused on the musicality.

“Carla helped Dad with the layout of the movie theater,” Hayley added. And Carla blushed.

“How do you do that?” The black-haired guy asked, pointing at her feet.

“This is Julian von Meklau-” Hayley point at the black-haired one, “-and Rudolph von Kesmark.” Hayley pointed at the brown-haired one. So the blond was her Amadeus, but she didn’t introduce him. Carla took that to mean that so far as Hayley was concerned, she could have either Julian or Rudolph, but not Amadeus.

“It just takes practice,” Carla told Julian. “I did it every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday after school for years. Just part of the social graces we were supposed to learn.”

“Ah, like riding and swordsmanship,” offered Julian.

“Or sewing for the ladies,” added Rudolph, who apparently thought that would earn him points.

“Yes, but we had sewing machines up-time,” Carla said. “And retail.”

“What?” Rudolph asked, as Hayley laughed.

“What’s so funny?” asked Millicent, coming up to join them.

“Shopping therapy,” Hayley said. “Rudolph was talking about ladies learning to sew.”

“We have sewing machines now,” Milly said, and everyone but Rudolph laughed.

“Are they teasing you, Rudy?” asked Millicent, and Carla wondered how she had known his name.

Rudolph gave Julian a look. “Any chance they get.”

“Rudolph always says the wrong thing,” Julian added.

“Me too,” said Millicent. “What were you talking about before Rudy stuck his foot in his mouth?”

Julian and Amadeus looked blank for a moment, then started laughing. “Stuck his foot in his mouth. That’s clever.”

Amadeus, Carla noted, had a laugh like a horse braying, but Julian had a nice laugh, sort of a happy guffaw. She didn’t know why, but she liked Julian’s laugh.

They continued to talk as the boat made its way upriver and reached a dock about noon. After debarking, they walked over to a lovely little grassy knoll where sheep had kept the grass at a comfortable height, found places where the sheep hadn’t left little presents for them to step in, and put down their blankets.

* * *

Archduke Leo had enjoyed the chat with Dr. Faust and Judy, though he had found Gabrielle Ugolini’s monomaniacal focus on biochemistry a bit wearing. On the other hand, Dr. Faust seemed entranced by the girl. He would leave the doctor to her tender graces and look in on the glider that Faust was building another time. Besides, he would rather see the thing than talk about it.

By now some of the mystical charm of the beautiful Judith Wendell von Up-time had worn off. He had been thinking about her since she arrived. She was very pretty and vibrant in a very attractive way. But as the day wore on the almost spiritual image he had of her began to get a bit frayed around the edges. She was, frankly, less well-informed on a number of matters than Leo had expected. “I just ride the things when I need to go somewhere fast,” she’d said. “I don’t need to know how to build them. That’s someone else’s job.”

That comment, along with several others where Judy Wendell admitted ignorance of finance, chemistry, engineering, politics and a host of other fields. She was still very attractive and he was intrigued by her, but he was much less in awe of her as the day wore on. He was watching the pairing up. Dr. Faust was completely enraptured by the chemist Ugolini and Pfeifer by the one down-timer to make her way onto the BarbieCo stock certificates.

The mechanic’s daughter seemed quite taken with young Amadeus, and Julian was following the Barclay girl around. Leo smiled. There was something about the way her calves moved when she was doing that tap dancing that was quite enticing.

Even Moses seemed relaxed. He and Susan were discussing the roast beef, which was kosher. There was a small Jewish contingent at Race Track City. Apparently a kosher delicatessen was one of the businesses that the up-timers had helped to finance. Because, according to Susan Logsden, the kosher practices got you part way to up-time sanitary practices.

Leo looked over at Marton von Debrecen and the tall young woman in slacks in time to see the woman toss a stick out onto the river.

Marton held up a hand, then called out, “Everyone, be at ease. Vicky and I are settling a bet.” The others all looked their way, and suddenly Vicky dropped her purse and fired her pistol, hitting the stick that had floated downriver. At least, Leo thought she had hit it. The splash had certainly moved it, but it was still in one piece.

“Fine,” Marton said. “I’ll grant that was a hit and a very fast draw,” but still he put his Cardinal to his shoulder and after a quick sighting, fired. Now the stick was in two pieces, carefully bisected in the center. Then Vicky fired again and one of the pieces was bisected. Then, while Marton was still reloading, she fired a third time, this time missing the other piece. But not by much. If it had been a man, he would have been hit.

“Oh, no!” Judy complained theatrically “Vicky’s found another gun nut.” Everyone laughed, mostly at Judy’s tone.

“Connoisseur!” Vicky corrected. “A gun connoisseur.”

Judy put her face in her hands, histrionically, then laughed. “Fine, but go downriver a little way, so we can hear ourselves think while you assault innocent trees.”

Marton looked up. “You know that’s an excellent idea. Your Grace, may we borrow your boat for an hour or so?”

Leo was surprised at the request. Still, it was more than a year since Polyxena had been executed by Maximilian of Bavaria. He looked at the girl again, noting that she was the one on the twelve groschen note. She probably wasn’t after his money. And as for his title, he had effectively bought it. “Certainly, Count. Enjoy yourselves.”

As it happened, Rudolph and Millicent went with Marton and Vicky, so propriety was mostly observed.

They spent the afternoon nibbling and chatting. All the while, Leo watched Judy. She was amazingly graceful and the sun shone on her auburn hair. Her short sleeves showed her arms to advantage. She had a wide smile that no painting could capture. It lit her face and seemed most inviting. Leo was more and more anxious as the day wore on to accept that invitation.

His eyes were drawn to her when, three hours later, the boat got back, and they trooped aboard to head back to Race Track City. Leo’s eyes were captured by the motion of her bottom as she climbed the gangplank.

On reaching Race Track City, as the girls were disembarking, Leo grabbed Judy Wendell and pulled her in for a quick kiss, more in the way of a promise of things to come than any-

Suddenly he was bent over, with his gonads screaming at him, and from what seemed a very long way away, he heard Judy Wendell saying, “I am not one of those cases where it is better to ask forgiveness than permission. I do hope you will remember that in the future.” Then she turned and walked away. Down the gangplank, one of the guards made a move to stop her, but there was Vicky Emerson with her gun out, not pointed at anyone right now, but that could change in an instant, as she had demonstrated that afternoon. All this was no more than peripheral to Archduke Leo’s universe, which was still quite concentrated on the pain emanating from his groin.

Royal Steam Yacht, the Docks at Race Track City

The men-young and old-who had been on the cruise were all agog, Carla noted. The women, on the other hand, had immediately formed into an almost military solidarity. And Vicky wasn’t the only one holding a gun. Millicent Anne Barnes was too, and so were Hayley Fortney and Trudi. Gabrielle wasn’t showing one, but she had a hand in her purse and so did Susan Logsden. Not knowing what else to do, Carla put her hand in her purse. Not that there was a gun in there, but female solidarity was clearly the way to go here. She followed the rest as they walked down the gangplank and headed for Race Track City. Carla didn’t look back, as tempting as it was.

* * *

Marco Vianetti, who commanded the Archduke’s guard, almost ordered the young women arrested. He didn’t for several reasons. First, of course, was the fact that at least two of them were showing arms-and quite deadly arms at that. He wasn’t sure that an arrest attempt would be met with force, but it would be really easy for things to get out of hand if the young women were pushed. That kept him from acting for long enough for his brain to catch up. He knew that the young ladies were of such a status that arresting them would cause problems for the crown, even if no one ended up dead. They weren’t being any sort of threat to anyone. Not even the archduke anymore. All the damage there was already done. While he was thinking that through, the others reacted and he saw that, too.

* * *

Dr. Faust looked at the brother of the Austro-Hungarian emperor, who was bending over and holding his balls, and had a decision to make. This was his stop. He was the tutor to Hayley Fortney, and if he didn’t go ashore he would be arraying himself against her. On the other hand, it was quite likely that following the girls down the gangplank would be seen as aligning himself with them against the imperial household, and for a man in his position that could be horribly dangerous. All that ran through his mind in an instant and the decision was made before he even knew it. He was walking after the girls, not because they were his employers, but because they were right. Archduke or not, Leo bloody well should have asked.

He was pleased to see his friend Jack Pfeifer walking beside him.

He didn’t see Archduke Leo standing up, but the rest of the men in the party did.

* * *

Count Marton turned to Archduke Leo, bowed and shrugged, then turned and followed the girls off the boat. Amadeus, seeing his brother-in-law’s action, suddenly realized that if anyone tried to arrest these girls in a foreign land like Maximilian had arrested and executed Polyxena they would have to go through Marton to do it. He remembered Polyxena. Flighty and irritating as she could be, she was his sister and he wished someone had been there to stand by her. He followed his brother-in-law off the royal steamboat almost hoping someone would try something. He didn’t even notice Rudolph and Julian dithering.

Moses Abrabanel didn’t dither at all. He didn’t even bow to the duke. He simply left the boat. Had he done otherwise, he was convinced that his deceased wife would come back to haunt him.

* * *

Archduke Leo was embarrassed, in pain, and more than a little pissed off at the public humiliation more than the pain. He turned to the captain and said, “Let’s go.”

In moments the boat was steaming back for Vienna.

Docks at Race Track City

“Are you insane?” Hayley hissed at Judy. “That guy you just kneed in the nuts is two heartbeats from the Austro-Hungarian throne!”

“Calm down, Hayley,” Judy said. “I know what I’m doing.” Which was, in a way, perfectly true. The action hadn’t been planned, not at all, but Judy did have an instinct for social situations. And, after the fact, she was even pretty good at figuring out why she had done what she did. She hadn’t exactly figured it out yet, in this case, but she was sure she had a good reason. And suddenly she knew what that reason was. Her reaction wasn’t even mostly about Archduke Leo, who aside from the Cyrano de Bergerac nose and the pale blotchy skin, wasn’t even bad looking. Well, not that bad looking. But he had grabbed her without asking, in public, as though he had a right to. And her reaction was a precedent. A precedent that was going to affect all the Barbies. She had had to make it clear that no one had the right to mess with a Barbie unless she gave prior consent.

“It’s a status thing. We aren’t peasants.” Seeing the look on Hayley’s face, Judy quickly expanded on her first simplified thought. “I’m not endorsing the down-timer attitude toward peasants, Hayley. No more than I’d endorse a hurricane or an avalanche. But refusing to endorse something doesn’t make it cease to exist. The down-timer attitudes are there whether we endorse them or not, you know that. So like the hurricane or the avalanche, all we can really do is get out of their way.”

“What down-timer attitudes are those?” asked Marton von Debrecen, who apparently had good hearing.

Judy turned to him. “The whole notion of good blood and not good blood, the judgment by blood that is common in this century. We can’t make that belief go away because everyone we have met in this century has had it, at least to an extent. The reason that Archduke Leopold felt that he had the right to grab me was the belief that his blood and birth entitled him. But, he wouldn’t have tried it with another archduchess, because her blood and birth would have protected her. I can’t change that. All I can do is make it clear that he’s not entitled to me. He’s going to interpret that to mean that my blood protects me.” Judy shrugged. “There’s not much I can do about that. But Trudi’s a Barbie too, so she gets some of that protection. And Gretchen Richter, in her own way, is making it plain that her something-certainly not blood, but something-makes it unwise to start feeling entitled to her. It chips away a bit at the entitled notion. It will be a generation or more before it’s seriously diminished. In the meantime, I have to look out for myself and my friends. That means making sure that when someone draws a rank line, my friends and I are on the right side of it.”

“I don’t think Gretchen sees it that way,” Vicky Emerson said. “And frankly Judy, I’m not sure I do either.”

Judy looked back at Vicky and shrugged again. “I’m not sure I do either, Vicky. But the only other option is to start the revolution right here and right now, and we don’t have the muscle for that. We can’t even be really sure that we have the muscle to pull off what I did. It was just the minimum that I could live with.”

“We really are barbarians to you, aren’t we?” Amadeus said about half to Judy and half to Hayley. He sounded chagrinned and at least a bit resentful.

“No!” Hayley said quickly.

Judy considered him for a moment. “Yes. A little bit, at least. But don’t feel too bad. You’re the noble barbarian sort. The sort that can be civilized.”

“Judy!” Hayley objected.

“Don’t be rude,” Millicent chimed in.

“Judy is rude whenever she wants to be,” said Vicky. “And I wish I knew how she gets away with it.”

“It’s because I’m not rude when I want to be, only when I need to be. There’s a difference. So, since you gentlemen were unwise enough to rank yourselves with the evil up-timers, why don’t we go up to the Fortney house and try to figure out how you’re going to survive the contamination?”

Fortney House, Race Track City

Amadeus had known he was in over his head before he had left the boat. But what else could he have done? Over the next few hours he mostly kept his mouth shut as Marton and Judy and, increasingly, Vicky Emerson talked about reasons and consequences. He learned that Vicky had been engaged to a town guard in Grantville and that the town guard had died doing his duty when Mayor Dreeson was killed. He learned that, in Vicky Emerson’s mind at least, Bill Magen was as noble as any man born. He saw that the mutual loss shared by Vicky Emerson and Marton had somehow produced a bond between them.

He wasn’t sure what it all meant, but somehow as he listened he came to believe, to know, that getting off the boat had been the smartest thing he had ever done. Because he was on the right side.

Royal Steam Yacht

Archduke Leopold was having a very different experience. No one was even talking to him. The truth was they were frightened to do so, lest it be taken as lese majeste, but it seemed like they were condemning him and he resented it. He even more resented the knowledge that dozens of people had seen him bending over in agony after that puffed-up peasant had kneed him in the groin. Normally Leo would have been more understanding, but normally his balls weren’t distracting him. It took the boat around twenty minutes to get back to Vienna from Race Track City, and by the time it docked he was coldly furious at the up-timers and their arrogance. He went directly to his rooms and didn’t speak to anyone he didn’t have to for the rest of the day.

The Hofburg Palace, Vienna

“What on earth were you thinking?” Ferdinand III asked his little brother the next morning.

“It was nothing. Or it should have been, if that up-timer slut didn’t have delusions of grandeur.”

“I hardly think slut is the appropriate term,” said the empress of Austria-Hungary, “considering the events as they were relayed to me.”

Leo didn’t say anything. Not only was there little he could say, it wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to talk about with his sister-in-law.

“My question is ‘what do we do now?’” Ferdinand III said.

Leo stayed silent. If the emperor insisted he apologize, he would. He was a loyal member of the family. But he very much didn’t want to.

“We can’t apologize,” said his stepmother, Eleonore. “It would be seen as a sign of weakness.”

“Well, we can’t throw them in the dungeon either,” Empress Mariana said. “We need Karl Eusebius’ support and we aren’t going to get it by imprisoning his prospective sister-in-law. For that matter, Judy Wendell is the daughter of the Secretary of the Treasury for the USE.”

“And Marton von Debrecen got off the boat,” Cecilia Renata pointed out. “So did Moses Abrabanel.”

“The problem goes deeper than that,” said Ferdinand. “I just received a new report from Janos Drugeth. He says it’s now definite: Murad IV is marching on Baghdad. If he takes it and makes peace with the Persians-which is what he did in the American universe, only three years from now-then his forces will be free to attack Austria. If all that comes to pass, that means we have little time any longer-a year; maybe two-to generate the funds we need to bolster the army.” He gave his younger brother a hard glance, which Leopold shied away from. “And the best source we have for funds at the moment and for the immediate future are the Barbies. Indirectly, because of the effect they’re having on all Austrian finance and commerce, even more than directly from the taxes and fees they pay us. The very last thing we can afford to do right now is cause a major breach with them.”

It was rare that Ferdinand III put on his emperor’s voice in these family meetings, but he did so now. “We will take no official notice of the incident. In the future, Leo, if you meet the Wendell girl or any of the up-timers, you will be polite and keep your hands to yourself.”

Leo nodded unhappily, but was obedient to his brother and his emperor.

Tavern in Vienna

“I was standing right there,” Julian said. “I mean, it wasn’t any big thing. The archduke just grabbed her a little. But it was him that did it. It wasn’t like she just walked up to him and kneed him in the balls.” He couldn’t help it. He giggled a little at that. It was funny, at least in retrospect. At the time, it hadn’t seemed funny in any way.

“Why are you taking their side?” asked his friend, Frederick.

Julian had been getting that reaction all morning, and by now he was wishing he had followed Amadeus off the royal steamboat. Carla probably wasn’t even speaking to him. And, well, you could tell just by watching them that the up-timer girls weren’t peasants. The archduke should have seen it and been more discreet about his advances. “She said that she was not a case where it was better to ask forgiveness than permission,” he told Frederick and the other young men in the tavern. “And I’ll tell you, you’d better have permission before you try anything with an up-timer girl. And that’s a fact.”

“They don’t scare me,” Frederick insisted.

“You haven’t seen Vicky Emerson shoot,” Julian said. “I have. You remember that western, High Noon? Well, she’s like that sheriff. I mean. . the gun was in her purse then it was in her hand, faster than you could see.”

Now interest took the place of outrage, as it will when something as strange as a pretty girl who can shoot is brought to the attention of teenage boys. All their interests rolled into one.

For the next half-hour, Julian was called on to describe Vicky Emerson’s shooting and quick draw. He was forced to admit that he hadn’t seen most of it because Vicky and Marton von Debrecen had taken the steam boat upriver.

“Well, why didn’t you go?” Frederick asked.

“Carla didn’t want to,” Julian admitted.

“So it’s just luck that you’re not the one who got kneed in the balls,” Frederick said, laughing.

Julian turned a bit pink even under his tan complexion. The boys laughed and elbowed him in the ribs.

“Now we know why he was taking the up-timer’s side.” Frederick snickered. “Lust before honor. Tut tut tut.”

“It’s not like that,” Julian insisted, thinking that it very much was like that.

To a great extent, it was Julian’s version of events that made the rounds of the young men of the nobility and that acted as a further embarrassment to the archduke over the next few weeks.

Restaurant at Race Track City

“I saw it myself,” said a dock worker the day after the event. “The archduke grabbed her like she was some peasant girl, and she kneed him in the balls.”

“There’s going to be trouble!” said an older dock worker. “You don’t embarrass an archduke like that.”

“They’re up-timers,” said a waitress.

“So what? Sonny Fortney is an up-timer and he’s just a regular guy. It’s not like he’s noble.”

The waitress pulled a BarbieCo stock certificate out of her pocket. It was a trudi, the best tip she had gotten that morning. She waved it at him. “Does Sonny Fortney have his own money?”

The dock worker laughed. “That’s a trudi,” he said grandly, “and she’s not an up-timer.”

“Fine. You go grab her and see what happens to your balls,” the waitress shot back.

“Not me, lass,” he said, reaching for her, but not at all suddenly, and she slipped away. “I like my women with a little maturity.”

She sniffed, but smiled a little as she headed for the next table. She was a decade older than the Barbies.

The social status of the Barbies and the up-timers became a major topic of conversation all over Race Track City. It was clear that you could be an up-timer and not a Barbie, or a Barbie and not an up-timer. It was also clear, given that the Barbies weren’t arrested, that Judy Wendell was of a rank that could, given provocation, knee the emperor’s brother in the balls and get away with it. But what gave her that rank was a matter that was entirely murky. Was it being a Barbie or being an up-timer?

St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Vienna

“I told you,” Father Lamormaini said to Gundaker von Liechtenstein. “They have no respect for the natural order of things, no sense of their proper place at all. It was intentional. I’m convinced of it. She enticed the archduke in order to embarrass the emperor and his family.”

Gundaker’s experience with Archduke Leopold didn’t indicate that he needed all that much in the way of enticement. The boy had a weakness for pretty things, though he was usually more discreet in the matter.

Still, Gundaker nodded to Father Lamormaini. The man was moving farther and farther into fanaticism and that might be useful at some point. Even so, after agreeing Gundaker added, “But we must be careful, Father. We can’t let them tempt us to rash actions.”