University of Vienna
“No.” Peter Barclay looked around the classroom, and saw the lectern that they called a desk. “I doubt the Fortneys and Sanderlins will be much help. They are no doubt decent enough people of their sort, but they lack the education to be of much help to us. As I understand it, they have but two high school diplomas between them, and no university training at all.” Peter wasn’t in any mood to deal with people from Grantville who would look at him and his companions as traitors in spite of the fact that they were here, too.
“That was my impression as well,” Herr Doctor Himmler proclaimed from the lectern. “Craftsmen, useful at their craft, but lacking the understanding needed for higher callings.”
Peter Barclay had no idea why Herr Doctor Himmler was so willing to agree with him. He didn’t know that the doctor had heard about the Fortney family choosing Faust over himself to educate their children. Not, of course, that Herr Doctor Himmler would have taken the post had it been offered . . . but it should have been. All Peter Barclay knew was that Herr Doctor Himmler was clearly pleased to hear anything bad about the up-timers who were already residing in—or rather, near—Vienna. In fact, there were a number of the elite of Vienna who were pleased to hear anything bad about any up-timer. Especially members of the Fortney and Sanderlin clans.
Dr. Himmler asked a question about steam and Peter gave him the formula for the calories needed to turn water into steam. Then another professor asked him another question and he answered it. Peter knew a lot of this stuff of the top of his head as much because of the work he had been doing since the Ring of Fire as because of the engineering degree he had gotten years before. He explained that internal combustion was more efficient, working at higher temperatures, and that because of weight, aircraft engines would have to use internal combustion engines. He knew, but didn’t point out, that up-time there had been at least one steam aircraft that had operated. However, he felt that with down-time tech the only way to make an engine that would work in a flying machine was internal combustion reciprocating engines. A project that he knew he was better qualified to lead than anyone else, even Hal Smith. Smith might be an aeronautical engineer, but Peter Barclay was a mechanical engineer, so knew more about the design of engines.
Fortney House, Race Track City
The mail arrived. There were letters from the Barbies to Hayley, from friends and family to the Sanderlins. Dana had one from her sister Holly, wanting reassurance that the evil Austrians weren’t holding them prisoner, and Sonny had a rather long one from a down-time friend named Cavriani. It was quite a long letter, full of gossip including quite a bit about Istvan Janoszi who had recruited the Sanderlins and him, and apparently had also had a major hand in the recruitment of the defectors. Sonny was more than a little disappointed in Janos Drugeth. He had thought better of the man. Both as spy and as a man.
* * *
The first meeting with the defectors was stiffly formal and polite. The Barclays were brought to Race Track City to look over the race track and comment. Comment they did, but later. For now, they made notes.
Sonny showed them the race track and told them about his idea to bank the track on either end.
Ron showed them the 240Z and the garage. Peter and Marina Barclay made notes and asked questions.
The adults mostly ignored the children who were carefully doing the “seen and not heard” bit, partly because the kids on both sides were aware that there were politics involved and didn’t want to be involved. And also because the kids—Hayley, Carla Ann, Brandon, and Thomas—knew each other from Grantville, having been in the same grades in the same schools.
* * *
“What are you guys doing about school?” Carla Ann asked. “I hate that we moved here before I graduated.”
“There is a school here for young ladies,” Hayley Fortney told her. “It’s run by the Jesuitesses, the English Ladies. But I’m being tutored and taking correspondence courses.”
“Why aren’t you in the school?”
“I think I may not be high class enough.” Hayley grinned. “After all, my dad’s just the assistant auto mechanic for the emperor’s car. Besides, I like having a tutor better.”
Carla Ann nodded. Of course Hayley Fortney of the Barbie Consortium has her own tutor. I’ll be lucky to get tuition to the English Ladies’ school.
* * *
“How are your rabbits?” Thomas Barclay asked Brandon.
“Acting like rabbits.” Brandon grinned. “Velma has another bunch in the oven and we should have more soon. With luck, satins will become a big seller. They have more meat than the local rabbits. I figure I’ll be able to sell a bunch of breeding pairs.”