“What?”
“I hadn’t realized it till Archduke Leopold mentioned the girl being a Barbie, but Judy Wendell, Vicky Emerson and Susan Logsden along with some others that apparently include the Fortney girl are known in Grantville and Magdeburg as the Barbie Consortium. Investors or profiteers, depending on who you talk to, who . . .” Moses slapped his head. “. . . have some sort of financial arrangement with Prince Karl Eusebius von Liechtenstein. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I should have made the connection.” He snorted. “It might be safer to deal with Vasa, or even Wallenstein, than with the Barbie Consortium.”
“Well, you’re the one who said we need Sarah Wendell more than we need Karl’s money.”
“I know, and I still think that. I’m less sure about the bridesmaids she brought with her,” Moses said. Then, getting back to the point he continued. “I need to sit down and talk with Sarah Wendell. I know she is young, but from what Uriel tells me, she, in large part, designed the National Bank of Bohemia, and she does have a reputation as an economist.”
“There will be a party in a few days to welcome Karl Eusebius home. You will be invited.” Ferdinand III turned to the room as a whole. “Father said he would prefer to rule a Catholic desert than a nation of heretics. Before the Ring of Fire, I was of like mind. But it won’t be a Catholic desert. It will be a Muslim desert. I am unwilling to destroy what is left of the Holy Roman Empire and leave an open road into Europe for the Muslims to punish heretics that I can’t reach anyway. So find me an answer. Some way to fund the government. Get me the money to buy the guns and pay the army that we will need to fight the Turks if they come. Which Janos has been warning me for some time will happen. I’m a bit skeptical, myself, but . . . Janos is shrewd about such things.”
CHAPTER 21
A Visit to Race Track City
June 1635
Race Track City
There was a half-finished air to the streets as the girls left the dock at Race Track City. It was clear that an attempt had been made to create a wide, tree-lined avenue, but the trees were knee-high and the grass was packed down. The street itself was just plain dirt.
“Ew,” Millicent said. “Hayley, why the heck haven’t you all paved this street?”
“Because we’re still negotiating with the turkey who owns the concrete patent.”
“Huh?”
Hayley sighed. “This is so, so . . . downright stupid! Back in, oh, ’32, I guess, the current emperor’s father started selling patents on inventions that came out of Grantville. So if you don’t own the patent, you have to pay a fee to the patent holder. See? Now, if the patent holder sees that you’ve got a major project going, they figure they can hold you up for even more money. They ask ridiculous prices for the use of ‘their’ process and you can’t just do it or they’ll take you to court.”
“For concrete? That you could buy for a dollar ninety-nine a bag on sale back in West Virginia?”
“Yep.” Hayley sighed again. “The way I understand it, when Ferdinand II found out about Grantville issuing patents on new inventions, he decided that since God had placed Grantville in his empire, all the information and technology that came back with us actually belonged to him. So he figured that he could give it out just the way he gave out land. He also needed the money and didn’t respect anything that the emergency committee did, so, at least in Austria-Hungary, all the inventions that came back with the Ring of Fire and all new inventions invented anywhere, are the property of the crown.”
“Good grief,” Judy said. “Talk about a recipe for disaster!”
“The average rich guy here,” Prince Karl pointed out, “doesn’t see it that way. He figures that having a monopoly on something is the best way to organize it.”
“Oh,” Vicky squealed. “Look at that!” She went hustling off to a shop window. “They’ve got blue glass bottles. That’s different.”
Karl read the sign. “Kreuger’s Wine and Brandy. Hm. I wonder if it’s worth drinking. Most wines from Vienna are kind of sharp and thin tasting.”
Hayley said, “Couldn’t prove it by me. All wine tastes sharp and thin to me. Or else sour and, well, icky.”
The wine merchant called, “Fräulein Hayley! It’s good to see you. Please, bring your friends to try my strawberry wine.”
Herr Kreuger, now that it was summer, had taken a leaf from some of the up-time travel guides that had made their way to Vienna. Instead of long tables and benches, he had four-person round tables, with umbrellas. The girls and Karl sat down and he proudly brought out several of his new blue bottles, along with a supply of wine glasses. With a flourish, he poured the chilled wine over ice and topped the glass off with soda water.