Chapter 7
Bischleben
Friedrich looked up when he heard a light cart go past the window and come to a stop outside. That didn't happen every day. Their shop was away from the main wagon road running south from Erfurt. He hurried to the front door and opened it, just in time to see a rugged-looking old man and a young woman coming toward him with a few bulky objects wrapped in canvas. The late summer rain wasn't especially cold or intense, but it was dripping steadily off their hats and cloaks. "Come in, come in, out of the weather. I am Friedrich Fritsche. What can we do for you?" He stepped aside so they could enter.
"Pleased to meet you, Herr Fritsche. My name is Thomas Hammel, from Sömmerda. This is my daughter Dora."
"Oh, yes, the new clients for our machine shop services." Whatever it was they were carrying looked heavy. "Shall I help you with those? The machine shop is upstairs. Karl! They're here!"
∞ ∞ ∞
After showing them up to the new shop, Karl's boss took the Hammels' outer clothing down to hang near the forge, where it would dry. For Karl it was a pleasure seeing them again.
As soon as they were unencumbered, Thomas unwrapped the first two packages, the broken halves of the left frame from a combing machine. Karl laid them out on the granite surface plate and got his first look at what Thomas Hammel had sketched in his letter. The intact right frame stood against a wall, to be examined later. Karl leaned over the pieces, just taking in their features by eye for a minute or so. When he glanced up again, Thomas and Dora were looking at him, clearly waiting for some answers. He started marshaling his thoughts, deciding what to explain first.
"Herr Hammel, Frau Hammelin, you're correct that this is cast iron, finished on a vertical mill. If you'll come over here, you can see what one looks like. This is a precision machine tool like that lathe you have, but arranged differently. It's the cutting tool that turns, not the workpiece." He pointed to a glittering spiral-fluted bit projecting downward from a heavy horizontal arm just above head-height. "We clamp the workpiece to this moving table. This crank moves the table left and right with a lead screw. The dial in front of the crank shows the movement in thousandths of an inch. This crank moves the table in and out, and this one moves it up and down. Together, they let me cut sideways along whatever tool path is necessary, or plunge to an accurate depth.
"Now, you can see that we don't have space for big machines and overhead cranes here, the way they do in the Grantville shops. The floor couldn't carry them anyway. I could get one of your broken halves on this mill, just not the whole frame. My hope is that they're intact enough so I could join them with some kind of bridge plate."
Thomas looked impressed. "That sounds good. Will it work, do you think?"
"We'll know better after I finish measuring the pieces, and comparing them to the good frame." He pulled out a drawer beneath the surface plate and started taking out measuring instruments.
Three quarters of an hour later he had bad news. "You're not going to like this. It's not just broken, there was some bending before it cracked. The halves are warped." He pointed at a dial gauge he'd set up to move along a vertical rail standing on the plate. "This bearing hole here has the worst skew. You can see how much the dial moves as I slide it from the top toward the bottom. There's no way to put the halves together so all the shafts would run true at the same time. And there really isn't enough metal around it to bore out and put in a bushing. So it's not a repair problem, it's a replacement."
Dora reached toward the gauge, then stopped with a question in her eyes. He gave her a quick smile and a nod. She slowly slid the gauge down the rail, watching the tip move and the needle swing, with a thoughtful look on her face. Thomas just stood back a little, taking it in. "A replacement. How would that be done?"
"I suppose you already tried to order one from the machine builder, or you wouldn't have come down here. Not that I'm not happy to see you." His eyes strayed toward Dora.
Dora smiled back for only a moment, then turned serious again. "We did. They seem to be having some kind of troubles. They made vague excuses, and they haven't been shipping anything else to us lately."
"Then we must make one. I remember you saying Herr Bosboom was ordering drawings for all the machines in the mill."
She gave him a pained look, and ran one hand along the edge of one of the pieces. "They didn't send us any for this thing, just the maintenance manual. I think they wanted to make it hard for someone else to copy their machines. But it was the only combing machine being made. Are we stopped, then, until we can find another combing machine somewhere? Herr Pöhls says this delay is already very costly."
"No, there are ways to make a new frame, and even make it stronger. I'm just thinking about how. It doesn't have to be exactly like the old one, Herr Hammel?"
Thomas pursed his lips. "No, it just needs to be strong, as long as it works the way it should. I'd like to see how it's done."
"Well. First we measure these pieces, and the good frame. From that we can make an accurate drawing. But we must alter the design so it can be made in two halves and joined precisely. One of the big shops in Grantville could copy it in one piece, but . . ."
"They're too busy."
Karl smiled. "Why am I not surprised?"
"And the cost of this?"
"Herr Fritsche can calculate it for you as soon I show him the drawing."
There was silence for a few moments, except for the hiss of the pressure lamp overhead.
Dora fingered the surface plate. It was clear that she understood its purpose. "Perhaps I could help with the notes and the figures. And Papa and I could make new sleeve bearings on the lathe over there, while you're making the frame. Did we tell you Herr Bosboom finally took his away to his next project? We don't have it any more."
"Yes, you said you expected that would happen before too much longer. Well, let's begin." He went to a tall, narrow cabinet in the corner, and took out a couple of quarto-size sheets of paper and a clipboard.
Gräfenstuhl
September
The dawn brought deep gray storm clouds hurling lightning across the sky and thunder at the hillsides. Bursts of wind-driven rain pattered against the house's walls intermittently through the morning, tapering off to a drizzle by mid-day. Finally the last of the rain blew past and the sky turned into one of those golden afternoons, with raindrops sparkling like diamonds on the spider’s webs.
It didn't do much to lift Matthias's mood. He was pacing, more than taking a walk for the pleasure of it, along the road just below the village. The fields stretching away to the east were changing colors, as the summer ran out and harvest time approached. Jupp was walking along beside him, taking a break from the shop while none of the cells needed immediate attention.
After a while Jupp broke the silence. "I haven't seen a rainbow like that in a long time."
Matthias jerked his head up. "What? A rainbow?"
"You didn't even see it? What are you so wrapped up in?"
"What to do. What to decide. I didn't need Uncle Berthold's letter to tell me that time's running out and I need to make up my mind. If I'm not back at college before the term starts, the decision will slip out of my hands." He stopped in the road and turned to face Jupp directly. "You tell me. Are we right on the edge of profit, or is everything we're trying to do here a fantasy? Because if it is, going back to Tech and finishing my degree is the quickest way of getting an income, however long that takes. And no income, no betrothal and no Dora." For a moment his thoughts flew back to his last visit to Sömmerda, the stolen kisses, the way her waist felt in his hands when they embraced, and the lavender flowers in her hair. Such beautiful brown hair. "She wrote again, Jupp. I have to figure out what to tell her."
Jupp stretched, and cracked his knuckles. "I see the difficulty. 'However long' is three years, I believe you said. Well. The rest of us have to decide too, but I'm learning as much that will help me in my trade as I'd learn at school. I can afford to stay another term or two, for that. There isn't all that much book study left before I'll be ready to sit for my Thuringian electrician's license. But you want me to tell you whether we're about to show a profit? You saw the figures yourself. Why is there a mystery?"
"The mystery is in the rumor that new customers are starting to bid for Hartmann's electricity. You heard about it, didn't you? If their prices go up, that's the end of any profit."
"A rumor, eh? Well, maybe we can get an answer to that, at least. Come on." He turned back toward the village, then led the way up alongside the power line to the old mill.
Nowadays the wheel turned day and night. Gerd Hartmann stood just outside the door, looking further up the hillside at a surveyor driving a stake into the ground. Hartmann turned at their approach.
"Good afternoon! A fine day for a walk, yes?"
"I suppose it is, Herr Hartmann." Matthias pointed at the activity. "What's happening up there? Another pole line to some mine?" That would be the last thing in the world the refining shop needed.
"What? No. You haven't heard? My Marta kept talking to the grumpiest old he-bear on this brook until he agreed to join his water rights with ours and the other neighbors. The rest of the arrangements all fell together soon after. For all I know, it was Marta's Früchtebrot that did it. It would charm me, sure enough, you know what a wonderful baker she is. And now here we are, an electric company, a corporation. You see that row of stakes across the slope? That's going to be a headrace high up on the hillside, pouring water into a wooden pipe running down to the stream bed." He pointed off further downstream. "It comes out right over there where those men are digging out a foundation hole. That's where the high pressure Grantville wheel will go, turning a new generator on stone piers up above the flood level. Think of it! We'll have much more power to offer when that's all put together. Much more, and a lot steadier besides." He cocked his head and grinned. "Can I interest you boys in a few more kilowatts?"