For the time being, you can reach me through Soubise in Frankfurt; should you hear that he has left the city, through de Ron.
Chapter 31
Grantville, December 1634
"I hadn't expected Lannie to crash the damned plane."
Victor Saluzzo, elbows on his desk, steepled his fingers. That was pretty much a picture-book perfect Concerned Principal's pose.
"Well, I hadn't. This time it's not my fault that I missed a bunch of school." Denise Beasley stuck her chin out and looked at her father Buster for support.
She hated parent-teacher conferences. Especially when they involved the principal. And the guidance counselor. And . . .
She looked across the room. The police.
Not that Preston Richards hadn't been pretty reasonable, but he was still the police.
"I expected that we'd fly down there, following the Saale, try to spot where the defectors were, turn around, and come back. I expected to be here for school the next morning. Honest, I did."
Honest, she hadn't. She hadn't thought about school at all. But that didn't seem to be quite the thing to say, right here and right now.
"They're giving her a hard time at school."
Saluzzo raised his eyebrows at Buster.
"Lots of hassling, needling, teasing. Even some significantly nasty threats. She's handled it pretty maturely, I think, for a sixteen-year-old."
Buster could play the game, if he had to. Denise hadn't killed any of the creeps. Or even done them significant bodily damage.
"Unfortunately," Joe Pallavicino said, "it isn't the first time that she has missed a block of school." Or the second, or even the fifth, but it didn't seem he was inclined to bring that up unless he had to. "I've been thinking that, perhaps, a mentoring program . . ."
Denise didn't stick her tongue out, and gave herself points.
"I have spoken to some of Denise's friends . . ."
Denise frowned. She didn't have any friends, except for Minnie.
"Tom Stone's youngest boy . . ."
Denise's forehead smoothed out. Yeah. Gerry actually was her friend. Unfortunately, he was going to school in Rudolstadt this year. Boarding over there.
". . . spoke to his brother. Ron suggested . . ." Pallavicino looked at Buster. ". . . since they already know one another, that perhaps Missy Jenkins and Pam Hardesty would be willing to act as big sisters for Denise and Minnie. On a more formal basis."
Denise nodded. That wouldn't be so bad. She liked Missy.
". . . with some adult supervision, of course."
That didn't sound so good.
"So Gerry talked to Pastor Kastenmayer's wife . . ."
Denise grinned. The mental picture of the redoubtable Salome Piscatora dancing in seven veils to get Herod to chop off John the Baptist's head had amused and occupied her mind through several tedious visits to St. Martin's in the Fields in the company of Gerry and Minnie. Even if Frau Kastenmayer did insist she was named for another Salome, the one who had stood at the foot of the cross. She jerked her mind back to this . . . hearing.
". . . who suggested that, in the interest of cross-cultural understanding, it might be best if one of the adult mentors was an up-timer and the other a down-timer."
Principal Saluzzo was nodding.
"I am happy to say that Mrs. Wiley and Mrs. Dreeson have agreed."
Denise stared at him, horror dawning upon her face.
Buster was grinning.
Daddy had known about this. The traitor. Denise resigned herself to her fate. Until she could figure some way to wiggle out of it.
* * *
"I suppose it's consular work, in a way." Wes Jenkins looked a little dubious. "The mission of the Bureau of Consular Affairs, the way it's written, is to assist SoTF citizens when they run into difficulties outside our borders. Jarvis Beasley's wife is clearly inside our borders."
"Physically," Henry Dreeson said. "She's here, all right."
"Jurisdictionally, then," Wes went on imperturbably, "the first question to resolve is whether or not Hedy Beasley's problems count as being outside our borders. Physically, as you say, she is here. Geographically, her home village is certainly inside the borders of the SoTF. Now. On the other hand, when she was born in that same place, she was undoubtedly born as a citizen of Saxony. Then."
"Has she ever been naturalized?" Noelle Stull asked.
"Naturalized?" Wes blinked.
"Yeah, like we set up for refugees coming into the RoF, way back when."
"So long ago," Dreeson said. "Not yet four years and it's 'way back when.' "
"No, no, pay attention." Noelle jumped up. "I'm thinking, guys. I was working for Deborah Trout back then. I know we've sort of lost focus on it since, what with annexations, like up around Remda, and places like Badenburg voluntarily joining, and then the whole Franconia thing. The only naturalizations I see listed in the Times these days are real foreigners."