"He's lying," Ginny said flatly. "Did I tell you what the ship is worth?"
"You did," Per said, "but I didn't understand all of it. That GNP business was a bit beyond me."
"You and most people," Ginny said. "It's been estimated that the Vasa was worth one twentieth of everything that was produced in Sweden that year."
"I still don't understand that," Per complained. "The wharf is big, but even among the locals, not even one man in twenty works there. And most people are farmers in the countryside, anyway.
"All those farmers are taxed," Ginny said, "Are they not?"
"Of course," Per said. "Nobody likes it, but just about everyone outside Delsbo pays."
"Right." Ginny spread her hands. "And much of that money goes into building ships and guns. Believe me, if we succeed, Mazalet will be richer than all but the dukes. My only doubt is whether Mazalet intends us to succeed or just to look like we may. But if it looks like it is working, he will stay."
"And he isn't the sharing kind?" Per asked.
"No," Ginny said. "Definitely not. He'd go back on that deal in an instant."
"Not anymore," said Lothar Boelcke, emerging dressed in his own clothes once more. "That contract is binding."
Per nodded. "We will need you to make over the shares to Fraulein Cochran, Herr Boelcke."
"I see we're going to argue again," said Ginny.
Per shook his head. "No. Without you, lady, we would be worrying about being conscripted, let alone working for a bright future for four penniless farm boys. As it is we can claim to be working on a project sanctioned by the admiral himself. You will pay us fairly," he said with finality.
Lothar Boelcke shook his head. "To save having the argument again. I asked Anna. She said four shares—two for you brothers, two for Ginny here, ja. She has all the knowledge and all the planning, but she needs you for diving, for courage and strength, and one third is fair for Mazalet having to swindle up the money for the barge and equipment." His eyes twinkled. "And Anna is always right. Ask Ginny. Ask me. I have thirty years' experience of it."
Per looked at his brothers. Nodded. "Very well. Now we just need to explain this to Mazalet."
"Let's wait a little," said Ginny.
Lars nodded. "Always make sure that the crayfish is in the trap first, before you haul it out of the water. Now, lady, explain again how this 'diving bell' works?"
"Ja. I want to understand what I drown in," said Olof, in broken German.
A little later, they were sitting in a salle at the consulate, as Ginny demonstrated with Anna's largest preserving bowl and a glass and small piece of thin bent copper pipe. She pushed the glass—mouth down—into the water. "It still holds air. Now watch how the water pressure pushes at it. The air cannot escape, but water now fills the bottom half of the glass." She handed the J-shaped tube to Olof. "Now, put your finger over this end, and the other end into the bottom of the glass."
"I have it!" he said, delightedly. "We sit inside the glass and breathe through the tube!"
Ginny shook her head. "It won't work. Trust me, please. I will show what would happen."
He did as he was told. "Now take your finger off. The air will come out. And if you tried your way, it would even suck the air out of your lungs. Even if you pumped air down . . . you need a good non-return valve to stop that happening."
"What is a non-return valve?"
Ginny explained. And then explained again. The Lennartson brothers were sharp, but she did have a few centuries to bridge. "But there one simple solution. Air always rises in water. If you can pass me that other tube over there, Per." The tube had a wire framework soldered to its end—a framework that held the end of the pipe below the glass. "Now, Olof. You blow down that pipe. We will have a pump on the surface that does that. Air bubbles up into the glass. Air comes out under the bottom lip. But unless the glass turns over, there is always air trapped inside for the diver to breathe. The diver inside the bell uses oxygen—but new air is constantly pumped down from the surface."
It took some more explaining and repetition, but they had it eventually. They were, in their way, shrewd farm boys, used to contriving when there was no money to buy. "Now all we need is strong enough and big enough glass—with very heavy bottom edges. We do not wish it to turn upside down," said Lars.
"It doesn't have to be glass. Metal or even a barrel with many iron hoops will do. Do better, actually."