“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 Márton 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 Márton 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.”