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Chapter 1: Winter Plans

Saturday, October 8, 1633


“It’s been just over a year since we met the up-timers at Alte Veste,” Edgar Neustatter said. “We worked the winter in Grantville, went home, and brought our families back to Grantville. We went to basic training and formed our own outfit. This attack by the League of Ostend is just the next step. Give it a little time, and we will have wagons and trucks to guard.”

News of the Battle of Luebeck Bay had arrived yesterday. Neustatter’s European Security Services could not afford to linger at the Thuringen Gardens day after day, but the high school also had a radio tuned to Voice of America. Big crowds were gathering in Magdeburg, moving toward the palace. No one really seemed to know what would happen next.

They waited anxiously all day, getting nothing done. Neustatter stationed Ditmar in the high school, and the others took turns as messengers, bringing news back to everyone else in the refugee quarters. When Otto returned and rattled off a whole list of names of people who were being cheered by the crowd in Magdeburg, everyone was relieved. Astrid recognized President Stearns and Princess Kristina. She did not know the rest of them—yet.


Sunday, October 9, 1633


NESS awoke at dawn on Sunday to someone pounding on their door. The men literally rolled out of bed and reached for weapons. Karl headed for the fireplace, slow matches in his hand.

“Neustatter! NUS Army! Open up! We need you now!”

Neustatter motioned Ditmar into position next to the door, then he unlocked it and swung it open. A soldier in uniform stepped in, and Ditmar hastily lowered his clubbed musket. The soldier winced but did not step back.

Instead he asked, “Do you know about the Battle of Wismar Bay? And the crowds in Magdeburg?”

“Ja.”

“John George says Saxony is leaving the Confederated Principalities of Europe.”

“Bastard,” Neustatter pronounced.

“He has to pass orders before Saxony can do anything.”

“It is, what, eighty miles from Magdeburg to Leipzig, ja?” Neustatter asked. “A dispatch rider could cover that in two days, reach Leipzig tonight.”

“Exactly. Saxony might do something stupid. Your personnel records say you can ride.”

“They do?”

“Somebody checked that box. Can you ride a horse without falling off?”

“Ride, ja,” Neustatter answered. “Cavalry charge, nein.”

“We need patrols on the border, and we need them tomorrow. You are to report to Sara Carroll for a check-out ride, and then you will be given your sector.”

The men were out the door in minutes. Neustatter took a minute to tell Astrid, “Miss Schäubin, you will have to watch the office. If any clients come in, tell them we have been called up but will return when we can.”


Tuesday, October 11, 1633


After the men left, the women and Johann went to Sunday services at the Lutheran congregation Ursula had found. Now that they had moved to the high school refugee housing, they were probably just as close to St. Martin’s in the Fields, but Ursula was insistent. Anna was inclined to agree. Astrid figured a Lutheran church was a Lutheran church. Neustatter later called it her charmingly naïve phase.

Astrid sat in the office each day they were gone, except Sunday. Frau Ennis came by on Tuesday to check on the progress of the workmen finishing the building. Astrid scrambled to her feet.

“How are you all doing?” Frau Ennis asked.

“Anna and Ursula and I wish the men were not going to be gone for so long,” Astrid answered. “It will be for no longer than their mission to Halle, but it seems like it.”

Leigh Ann nodded in understanding. “I don’t like it, either, when James is gone.”

Then she looked around the room. “Miss Schäubin, you need a desk and a chair if you are going to sit here all day,” she stated. “And you need a phone.”

“Ja, we do,” Astrid agreed.

“Then let’s go shopping.” Leigh Ann said that like it was all settled.

“Someone has to be in the office.”

“Is everyone else out with Neustatter?” Frau Ennis asked.

“Nein. Ursula and Anna are in our quarters.”

“How ’bout they watch the office?”

“I think that would be all right.” She hoped.

“If you don’t mind my saying so,” Frau Ennis continued, “it says something that you are the secretary.”

“Ursula is quite normal,” Astrid explained. “She has a child and is a good cook. Anna is simply quiet and sews very well.”

“And you’re the one who is getting a job. Does Neustatter trust you to make decisions?”

“For some decisions, he must.”

“Are you and Neustatter . . . ?” Leigh Ann’s question trailed off.

“Are we what?”

“You know. Together.”

“Nein! Why does everyone think that?”

Leigh Ann shrugged. “Sorry. It just seems . . . natural.”

That sounded more like a question than a statement to Astrid, but she let the matter drop.

Ursula and Anna were initially hesitant but agreed to stay at the office. Frau Ennis and Astrid walked into Grantville. Astrid learned a lot as Leigh Ann told her about each business they passed by or the family that lived in each house.

“So that is the Historical Society.” Leigh Ann pointed to a building on right side of the road.

“Ja, Frau Haun,” Astrid responded.

“Please, Miss Schäubin, save the ‘Frau Haun’—or better, ‘Frau Ennis,’ since I took James’ name—for when we are signing the rental agreement,” she said. “I’m Leigh Ann.”

“Then I bin Astrid.”

Leigh Ann smiled. “Amideutsch?”

“Ja. Our village says, ‘Ich heet.’ It is Plattsdeutsch. Hochdeutsch is Ich heisse.”

“That piece of Amideutsch is our fault,” Leigh Ann told her. “It sounds like President Kennedy’s speech. Ich bin ein Berliner.” She told Astrid what she remembered learning about the Berlin Crisis up-time.

“But use ‘Miss Schäubin’ at work,” Leigh Ann advised. “Was ‘Miss’ your idea?”

“Neustatter’s. When the men came home from the war in April, he called me Fräulein. I told him not to say that where Herr Augustus or Frau Sophia might hear. Or anyone who might go tell them. Our men had been in Grantville after Alte Veste until good traveling weather came in the spring. They started talking like you do here.”

Frau Ennis—Leigh Ann—raised an eyebrow. “I’d heard that. I don’t get outside of Grantville much, and when I do, it’s usually one of the towns right outside the Ring of Fire. I hadn’t realized the nobility would take offense.”

“Some certainly will.” Astrid smiled. “I understand some of the adel near Grantville have gotten used to you up-timers.”

“Been contaminated by our ideas, you mean. Absolutely. Let me tell you some stories . . . ”

Leigh Ann led Astrid to a furniture store. It sold chairs, couches, desks, beds, and so on, all down-time-made but incorporating up-time designs. At least, Astrid thought they were up-time designs. She had never seen anything like them before.

“I know what you down-timers call a desk is what we up-timers call a lectern,” Leigh Ann told her. “But that is not what you want. You want to be able to sit comfortably with all your paperwork within reach. Besides, I’ve seen the movies that Neustatter talks about. I gather you’re the gorgeous blonde dame who’s going to be sitting behind the desk, so pick something you like.”

Astrid examined the desks on display one by one. Several featured intricate woodworking on the front panel and around the edges. She looked at the cost of one of them and blanched.

There were simpler designs, though. She spotted a plain wooden desk and checked the price. NESS could probably afford this one.

Leigh Ann raised an eyebrow. When Astrid nodded, she looked for the sales clerk.

Astrid saw only one drawback. “I do not think it will fit in the door.”

The sales clerk knelt down and pointed to something underneath the desk. “There are heavy pegs here, here, here, and here.” He pointed them out. “They slide. It comes apart.”

“That’s ingenious!” Leigh Ann exclaimed. “Do you have those on the fancier models, too?”

“Some of them.”

“I will definitely mention these to my mother-in-law. She works in real estate.”

Astrid got talked into two desks and two chairs. She suspected they would need more chairs, but she wanted to talk to Neustatter first. Leigh Ann helped her arrange delivery and payment. Then they started back.

“What’s next on NESS’ list?” Leigh Ann asked.

“Up-time firearms and horses,” Astrid answered.

“I might be able to help,” Leigh Ann said slowly. “Where are you going to keep the horses?”

“I do not know.”

“It’s a shame there’s no bridge across Buffalo Creek right there,” Leigh Ann mused. “If there were, you could keep them in my parents’ barn. Of course, if there were a bridge, the two halves of our property wouldn’t be so cut off from each other. I wonder if we could put up a bridge . . . ”

Build a bridge, Astrid marveled. Just like that.

“Might even help Mom get back to the farm more often.”

“What do you mean?” Astrid asked.

“My mother Julia works at a day care in Grantville. She stays in town during the week and comes home on the weekends. It’s not far as the crow flies, but it takes quite a while, and it’s almost impossible in winter weather. My kids and I moved in with my parents while my husband is with the army.”

“Is he at Camp Saale?” Astrid asked.

“No, he’s with one of the new units, but he’ll be back next month. For a while, anyway.”


Sunday, October 16, 1633


The men arrived home in time for dinner.

“We rode horses for a week and made camp every night,” Astrid’s brother Hjalmar told her. “Guarding the salt wagons was more dangerous that patrolling the border with Saxony. The salt mission at least had a brawl.” He was going to say more when Neustatter called everyone together.

“Circle up! Sit, stand, whatever.”

“Basic,” Hjalmar whispered to Astrid as they all gathered around. Most found seats at the table in their quarters.

“The Confederated Principalities of Europe is now the United States of Europe. Captain-General Gars will still be the emperor. President Stearns is going to be the prime minister.”

Neustatter looked around to make sure everyone understood. Astrid nodded. She had heard that at her classes while they were gone.

“The New United States is going to be called something else, and Ed Piazza will be the new president.”

The women had heard that, too.

“The dragoon unit that Tom Simpson organized replaced us. The NUS Army said they want their best riders on the border and us guarding wagons. The USE and Sweden are going to try to hold Luebeck and Wismar. They’ll be under siege by the League of Ostend soon. That is the French, the Danes, the Spanish, and the English. The NUS Army is rushing supplies to those two cities. They are using trucks—and using up a lot of fuel. So supplies they might have moved elsewhere by truck are going to be carried by wagon. Even when the trucks get back, they are going to conserve fuel as much as possible. They need us.”

“Us, NESS? Or us, all the mercenaries and security services?” Stefan asked.

“All of us,” came Neustatter’s answer. “Some of the Albernians are out on a mission, so they will probably not take as many convoys as they otherwise could. We will be allowed to take our Reserve weapons. Our first priority will be cold weather clothing and range time.” He looked at Astrid. “Have any clients shown up yet?”

“Nein. But the office is almost ready. I believe Frau Ennis will find a way to get us a telephone. I need to talk to you about up-time weapons and horses, too.”

Astrid could tell Neustatter was interested, but he held his questions for later. With dinner, discussion of the new Lutheran congregation, and the political situation, later became the next day.


Monday, October 17, 1633


Neustatter turned in place, studying the NESS office from the inside. The two desks were set up to the left of the door.

“I like this,” he said. “How much did this cost?”

Astrid told him.

“Not bad,” he said. “Not bad at all. Und you mentioned a telephone, horses, and guns?”

“Leigh Ann—that is Frau Ennis—said she had some ideas. She said if there were a bridge over Buffalo Creek here, we could keep the horses in her father’s barn.”

“That would really help.” Neustatter smiled. “You do realize, do you not, that the reward for doing well is more work? I need NESS’ secretary at the desk, answering the door and the phone. If there is nothing else to do, do your school work.”

Astrid nodded. That made sense to her.

A mounted courier arrived before noon with assignments for NESS. They were needed in Erfurt right away—so much so that the NUS Army was sending a pickup despite the fuel shortage. He handed over written orders, which Neustatter read and passed to Astrid.

The Committees of Correspondence had been recruiting, and ever since the Battle of Wismar Bay, volunteers had poured in. Several hundred were gathered in Erfurt, and the new USE Army wanted them at Camp Saale for basic training.

“Do not ask me who stays with the NUS Army and who moves to the USE Army,” the courier warned. His weary tone said he’d been asked that question a lot already. “They do not tell me who or why.”

“They are probably making it up as they go,” Neustatter agreed.

“How are eight of you going to guard hundreds of men?” Astrid asked.

“Oh, we are not. Look at the end of the orders,” Neustatter told her.

“Supply wagons.”

“Food,” Neustatter explained. “This would not be the only group coming to Camp Saale. Thousands of soldiers will need a lot of food. We are really there to guard the food from the recruits.”


Thursday, October 20, 1633


The men returned home Thursday night. The women had already gone to bed, and the knock at the door awakened them. Astrid quickly dressed and went to the door.

“Who is there?”

“Neustatter.”

Astrid hurriedly unlatched the door.

“Danke,” Neustatter said. He stepped out of the way as the rest of the men filed in. “Long march, new recruits, and Camp Saale is really busy.”

“More groups like the one you brought in?”

“Ja. There are more new volunteers at Camp Saale than there were men in the entire NUS Army just a month ago. I ran into Sergeant Wolfe from Bretagne’s Company. They just brought in two food convoys from west of here and are headed back out in the morning.”

“Do you have an assignment?”

“We are to meet a Herr Schrödinger downtown tomorrow. On Saturday, he has a shipment of goods going to Magdeburg. He is going, too.”

Astrid frowned. “He did not come to the office.”

“Nein, we got this assignment through the military.”

“Why?”

Neustatter grinned. “They did not tell us. You may draw your own conclusions about the nature of his cargo, of course.”


Friday, October 21, 1633


Neustatter decided they had time to talk to Leigh Ann before the men were due to meet with Herr Schrödinger.

As they took the long way around—the only way around—Neustatter muttered, “Ja, I want a bridge, too.”

Leigh Ann welcomed them in. She was holding a baby who could not have been more than a few months old.

“I did not know you have a newborn!” Astrid exclaimed. “I am so sorry for keeping you the other day!”

Leigh Ann tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Pffft. I needed the break, and my father is perfectly capable of watching Carrie for a couple hours and breaking up the occasional argument between my older two, Julia and James. Those are the two you hear in the next room. What do you think of the office furnishings, Herr Neustatter?”

“Just Neustatter, bitte. The desk and chairs are just what we need.”

“Good. Come, sit down.”

Leigh Ann led them to the same room as before. Once they were seated in the armchairs and had drinks, she got down to business. “We are having phone lines run to two of the offices. We’ll add the other if I can find a phone for it. You’re getting an old sit-on-the-desk rotary phone. I hope that’s okay.”

“Any telephone is more than we expected,” Neustatter assured her.

“Astrid said you needed up-time weapons and horses.”

“Ja. Und I agree that a bridge would be helpful, but I have no idea how to do that.”

“Let me ask my husband about that,” Leigh Ann told them. “He’s always been good at building stuff and put in a simple bridge on the back road to his hunting camp. It was a ways away and didn’t come through the Ring of Fire.”

“A hunting lodge?” Neustatter asked. “That is something the adel have.”

“And a lot of West Virginians. James belonged to a hunting club. A few dozen people got together and paid membership dues to keep up the camp building and rent the land from one of the big companies.”

“What was this camp building like?” Neustatter asked.

“I think we have a picture around here somewhere. Excuse me a moment, please.” Leigh Ann returned with a photo album and quickly leafed through the papers before stopping at a page with a couple pictures of her husband standing next to a buck.

“I have not seen that kind of deer before,” Neustatter said. “Up-time?”

“Yeah. Whitetail. But there are plenty of ’em over in North America right now.” Leigh Ann frowned. “Up-time, we had game laws. You had to get a license from the state, and that let you hunt during a certain season. There were special days you could use bows or muzzleloaders or hunt doe. The game laws kept the deer from being hunted out. There were seasons for other animals, too.” She paused for a moment. “I don’t know if there are any whitetail left in the Ring of Fire or not. We may have hunted them all that first winter, trying to keep everyone fed. I hope there are still some out there, but . . . ”

Neustatter nodded. “We have hunting rights, too, but they are limited. Und we understand—you could not let people starve that first winter. The building behind Herr Ennis is very large. Is that the hunting lodge?”

“Yeah. It’s got a big kitchen and dining hall and a couple rooms with rows of bunks. People can join the club, pay their due and a certain number of days’ labor, and hunt on the land the club rented from one of the big companies.”

“Hjalmar’s description of the barracks at Camp Saale sounded something like this,” Astrid said.

“Ja.” Neustatter smiled. “Until we went off to the war, I thought Herr Augustus lived in a schloss. It is really just a hunting lodge. The family divided their lands so much that there was not a real schloss left for each son and grandson.” Then he shook his head. “Und up-time commoners had something much closer to an actual schloss that they shared by subscription.”

“We had an upper class, too,” Leigh Ann said. “They didn’t have titles—not in the United States, anyway—but they had a lot of money. But there weren’t many of them around Grantville. Their hunting lodges were really fancy and had employees to find the game for them. In West Virginia, we hunted to put meat on the table. That means we had a fair number of guns, for deer, small game, birds, even bear.”

Neustatter nodded his understanding.

“Right after the Ring of Fire, the Emergency Committee asked everyone to donate any weapons they didn’t need. We kept what we needed and donated the extras.”

Neustatter nodded. “We are issued up-time weapons when we are on an assignment for the army.”

“We Americans had a jillion different calibers,” Leigh Ann continued. “The army picked a few to make ammunition for. The rest have just been sitting there for a while now. They are starting to return those. If something like the Croat Raid happens again, they want those weapons being used. And quite a few of us up-timers have a lot of land and personal possessions but are cash poor. So, once the weapons are returned, some folks will sell them.”

“Adel, bürgers, and security services will be happy to buy them,” Neustatter said.

“We’ve had some returned, and we’d like to give you the first opportunity to buy.”

Neustatter appeared just as stunned as Astrid felt.

“Danke. We truly appreciate this,” he said. “What kind of weapons?”

“Pistols. A couple thirty-eights and a twenty-two. And a twenty-two rifle.”

“Those would be very helpful. Danke.”

They got down to haggling. In the end, Frau Ennis got a good price. On the other hand, if NESS were ever attacked, these weapons could literally be the difference between life and death.

When the men left to meet with Herr Schrödinger, Neustatter, Ditmar, Hjalmar, and Otto were carrying the up-time weapons.

Hjalmar, Wolfram, and Stefan came back to NESS’ quarters at dusk.

“Astrid, Herr Schrödinger did not just want to meet us. He wants us to guard the cargo tonight. So, you ladies and Johann are on your own until we get back. It will be three days by wagon, then we move the cargo to boats with engines. Whatever the cargo is, it is important. The mission will be two weeks, but if it turns into sixteen days, do not worry.”

“I will protect them,” Johann stated.

Hjalmar nodded solemnly at him. “You have the matchlocks if you need them,” he reminded Astrid. “Do you remember how to load them?”

“Ja.” Neustatter, Hjalmar, and Ditmar had drilled it into her often enough.

Hjalmar crossed the room to pick up one of the weapons. “Show me.”

Astrid pantomimed loading the matchlock.

“Gut. I have to get back.”

Astrid hugged her brother. “Stay safe.”

“Always.”

* * *

While the men were gone for two weeks, Astrid kept working on her English. Her class was learning up-time English, but in the hallways and around town people spoke a blend that was part English and part German. She heard someone call it Germlish, but it seemed like more people called it Amideutsch. Most people did not worry about what it was called. They just spoke it and felt no need to do so in exactly the same way that everyone else did, although there did seem to be a particular “flavor” of Amideutsch at Grantville High School. People could understand each other—that was what mattered. Astrid liked it for that reason.

One day Astrid asked Anna to stay in the office while she went downtown to the polizei office. She wanted to let Chief Frost know how NESS was doing.

“Miss Schäubin,” Dan Frost greeted her. “On your own today?”

“The men are still out on that mission.”

Frost nodded. “How are you all doing?”

“Well, danke,” Astrid replied.

Chief Frost leaned forward, elbows on his desk. He interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them. “I have a question for you, Miss Schäubin. Are you and Neustatter seeing each other?”

Astrid tried to figure out the idiom. “Do you mean do we pay attention to each other? Of course. Neustatter runs NESS, and I am the secretary.”

“No, I mean romantically.”

Astrid’s head jerked back in surprise. “Of course not. Neither one of us has enough money saved up to marry, and it would not be to each other.”

“Just checking.”

Once outside—she didn’t want to insult Chief Frost—Astrid shook her head in bewilderment. Then she went by their old quarters in Spring Branch and Murphyhausen, just in case anyone had been looking for NESS there.

She could tell at a glance that a new family had moved into the refugee housing. There were a few plants on either side of the door, and a different set of cooking irons stood over the fire. When she knocked, the door was opened at once.

“Gut morgen.”

Since the greeting was in Amideutsch, Astrid replied in the same dialect. “Gut morgen. I bin Astrid Schäubin. My brother and cousin and I and some others from our village lived here when we came to Grantville.”

A short man looked out at her warily. “Dietrich Kluth, tinsmith from Brandenburg. Did you leave something?”

“Nein. I thought someone might look for Neustatter’s European Security Services here. Has anyone asked for us?”

“Nein.”

“Gut. We have an office on the other side of the Ring of Fire, out past the high school.” She noted his blank look. “How long ago did you come to Grantville?”

“A few days.”

She heard children inside. “Have you found the schools yet?”

An apprehensive look crossed his face. “We were not sure who could attend . . . ”

“Everyone,” Astrid told him. “The schools are very good. Stefan and Ursula’s son Johann is learning a lot. I attend the adult education classes. They help with learning about Grantville.”

“Come in, bitte. You should meet my wife Margareta and my sister Maria.”

Astrid answered their questions about Grantville and showed them where the school bus stopped. She thought about stopping by the office of the Grantville Ecumenical Refugee Relief Committee, but a different idea occurred to her.

Astrid backtracked to the last row of housing and checked to see if Maria and Wilhelm Rummel and their group were still there. The door opened at her knock.

“Astrid!” Maria exclaimed. “We did not know where you went from Murphyhausen.”

“You can find us at the high school refugee housing.” Astrid gave Maria a short account of what had happened. “Do not tell strangers we live there, bitte. NESS has an office out past the high school if anyone needs to find us.”

“We will not tell anyone,” Maria promised.

“How are you doing?” Astrid asked.

“All of us are working. Except for the children. They go to school. Some of us have found positions, but others are still doing day labor.” Maria frowned. “We have started to talk about moving out of the refugee housing. Wilhelm thinks we would need at least three rowhouses. He claims that if we can get three next to each other, we can turn the ground floor of one of them into additional bedrooms.”

Astrid smiled. “That is a good idea. I do not know if you will be able to find three in a row.”

“I have heard talk that the new row of houses will be three stories. I am trying to convince him to get two of those.”

“Also a good idea,” Astrid said. “Have you met the families in our old quarters?”

“Nein.”

“They are new here. Do you think you could show them around?”

“Like you did for us? Ja. What do they do?”

“Dietrich is a tinsmith.”

“Oh, he should have no trouble finding work. . . . ”


Monday, October 31, 1633


NESS received a strange request from the Marion County Tax Assessor’s Office, inquiring about guards. Astrid read it carefully, twice. Something did not seem right. Over lunch at Cora’s City Hall Café and Coffee House, she caught up on Grantville gossip, including a dispute over the Stones’ geodesic dome which had spilled over into a fight right there in Cora’s.

Astrid soon learned enough to realize that someone at the tax assessor’s office had overstepped his bounds, quite badly. She wanted no part of this, and Neustatter had authorized her to accept or decline assignments.

Back at the office, she declined the request. She also wrote a memo for Neustatter explaining why and promptly lost it. Astrid never did realize that she’d accidentally attached the memo to her letter to the assessor’s office.


Saturday, November 5, 1633


The men returned after fifteen days. Neustatter, Ditmar, Hjalmar, and Astrid gathered around the table after diner.

“It was a quiet mission,” Hjalmar told Astrid. “We had a chance to see some of Magdeburg. It is bigger than I remember it in May.”

“Any news?” Neustatter asked.

“The Kluth family moved into our old quarters in Spring Branch. They are from Brandenburg. He is a tinsmith, and the two families have half a dozen children. The Rummels’ group is doing well. No one has asked for NESS there. I did have one inquiry at the office, though.”

“Oh?”

“One of the machine shops needs extra security from time to time. NESS was not available this time, but there will be more chances. They have our telephone number.”

“Gut, gut. Anything else?”

“James Ennis is home.”

“We will not be, not for long,” Neustatter told her. “I do not know when it will be, but we heard talk in Halle and in Magdeburg. The USE is building an army of these volunteers. Lennart Torstensson is in command. They are preparing to fight the League of Ostend in the spring. They are pushing hard to have everything where it needs to be before the snow comes. We will not travel as much during the winter. Then in the spring there will be a lot of shipments before the campaign starts.”

“Will you be called up?” Astrid asked.

“I do not think so. There are a lot of the new volunteer regiments. Really a lot. But there will be plenty for us to do. For now, we need cold weather clothing. On Monday, I would like to discuss our finances with you.”


Monday, November 7, 1633


On Monday, Astrid showed Neustatter how she was tracking NESS’ income and expenses.

“I have everything since we left the village,” she told him. “Just not all in one place.”

“It is a good thing you can keep track of it.” Neustatter looked at her suspiciously. “Are you about to tell me that there is an up-time solution for this?”

“It is funny you should use that word ‘solution,’” she returned, “because it is something I heard about in math class—an account book.”

“If the cost is reasonable, buy it,” Neustatter told her. “Buy paper and folders, too, bitte. We should start writing a report of each assignment. It is something up-time detectives did, and those are all men who claim to hate paperwork.”

Next, they figured out how the telephone worked. Neustatter called the Hauns. After a brief conversation, Neustatter reported that James Ennis would be by the next day.

The men were taking a day off after their two-week mission. But Astrid soon realized Neustatter had two purposes for that. One was indeed rest. The other was buying winter clothing. Once he knew exactly how much money they had available, Neustatter took everyone downtown. They bought heavy coats and trousers, gloves, and hats. The hats were something the up-timers called fedoras. The coats were blue, of course. Neustatter insisted that Astrid, Anna, Ursula, and Johann needed them, too.


Tuesday, November 8, 1633


Astrid wondered if James Ennis approved of all of Leigh Ann’s decisions. It was not something they could, or should, ask. It would be like Ennis asking if Neustatter approved of the decisions she had made, except worse because James and Leigh Ann were married.

She recognized James Ennis from the picture Leigh Ann had shown them. He was a tall, strong-looking man with close-cut hair. He shook hands all around, appearing to study them carefully.

“Heard you were in the Reserves.”

“Ja. Basic in July and August and mostly guarding convoys since then.”

Ennis nodded. “I’ve been building stuff. Buildings mostly, but some bridges, too.”

Neustatter nodded.

“Let’s go take a look at it.”

They walked east from the office, turned up Riverfront Park Road, and descended downhill through a strip of woods to where Deborah Street had been extended since the Ring of Fire. All of this was the Hauns’ land. Further north, deeper within this loop of Buffalo Creek, the land flattened out, and Deborah Street and Riverfront Park Road merged. From Deborah Street they could see across Buffalo Creek to the rest of the Hauns’ land.

“I don’t think we can do this,” Ennis said at length. “We’d need someone with more experience, and that would cost. And permits. Maybe more than one. Lots of labor.”

“We can handle that,” Neustatter told him.

“That’s all details.” Ennis ran a hand over his short hair. “The problem is the steep hillside. Could I build a footbridge across Buffalo Creek that we could use with a hard climb up? Sure. But something a couple horses could use without falling off? No.” He shook his head. “It’d help you, it’d help Leigh Ann get over here, it’d help Julia get home more often. But I can’t build what you need. And I’m not sure it’d be a good idea.”

Astrid was surprised. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea? But she didn’t say anything. Ennis would get around to explaining.

After a few moments, he did.

“Neustatter, how much do you know about the Croat Raid?”

“When we were in the siege lines before the Battle of Alte Veste, we heard stories that Wallenstein had sent a couple thousand Croats at Grantville and that less than half of them had come back. Once we got here, we walked the town square and the high school parking lot. I have talked to Dan Frost about it.”

James Ennis pushed his cap back. “So, you have the details of the main battles. But there were little skirmishes all over, too.”

Neustatter nodded. “Miss Schäubin found the memorial for the tree-trimming crew.”

“I was at Eisenach. Leigh Ann and her dad were out here with our oldest two kids. Julia was five, and James was two. Frederic went out to check on the cattle and came across a few Croats killing a couple of them just because. He got back to the house, grabbed a rifle, and took care of business. He and Leigh Ann tossed the kids in a dry bathtub with paper and up-time crayons and lots of snacks. Then they spent the next couple hours moving from window to window, keeping watch. They could hear the battle at the high school.”

James Ennis looked out over Buffalo Creek, then concluded, “I don’t know that I want to build an invasion route right to the family farm, y’know? Even if I could.”

Neustatter nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“The livery stable across from the high school—or the one at the high school—you could board your horses there. I think it would be simple enough to build something on the east side of the building where you could keep them if you were coming and going throughout the day.”

“Unless we find housing with stables even closer by, I reckon that will do,” Neustatter agreed.

James Ennis laughed. “You reckon? That’s some three-quarters German with a Western drawl you got there, Neustatter.”

“I watch the movies.” Neustatter added, “It helps me understand you.”

Ennis stuck his thumb through belt loops on his trousers. “What are you doing for housing?”

“We just moved from Murphyhausen to the high school refugee housing,” Neustatter told him. “We would like to find something else as soon as possible.”

James Ennis nodded in understanding. “Leigh Ann and I had to sell our place in town. We just weren’t making enough money to hold onto it. It’s looking like I’ll probably be assigned to the USE Army and stationed in Magdeburg. I think we’ll probably wait a bit before seeing if Leigh Ann and the kids should join me.”

“First time they come up for a visit, we’ll make sure they get there,” Neustatter told him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Ennis protested.

“You did not have to sell us the firearms,” Neustatter replied.

Ennis shrugged. “We gave those up in ’31. Kept enough to protect ourselves, of course. When the army gave ’em back . . . well, you need the firepower, and the cash isn’t going to hurt us any. In fact, I could probably spare one more—a forty-five pistol.”

Neustatter nodded gravely. “I sincerely appreciate that.”

The price they settled on meant Astrid had to recalculate NESS’ finances the next day, but Neustatter quietly told her that Ennis had asked significantly below market value and that the Colt M1911 was a truly significant increase in NESS’ firepower.


Saturday, November 19, 1633


The men got one more mission in, to Suhl, Schleusingen, and Schmalkalden, before the winter storms started. NESS bought four flintlock rifles from U.S. Waffenfabrik in Suhl.

The day after they returned, NESS marched downtown to the polizei office. Astrid’s job was to trail a distance behind and see how people reacted. They drew a lot of attention, of course. Not all of it seemed positive, but being in step with uniforms, blue coats, yellow halstücher, flintlocks shouldered, and the old matchlocks slung gave NESS a professional appearance. They even had business cards. Maneuvering around passersby instead of forcing them out of their way went a long way, too.

Chief Frost came out front of the police station to review the troops.

“Looking good, NESS,” he pronounced. “I do believe you guys have pulled it off, Neustatter.”

Neustatter simply nodded, but Astrid could tell he was pleased. “I think we can turn in these matchlocks now, Chief.”

Chief Frost nodded. “We keep a stash of them in town. It’s probably unnecessary, but we’re still twitchy from the Croat Raid.”

* * *

After moving forces on short notice in September and October, the NUS Army was able to reestablish a regular schedule in November. The men were assigned to Camp Saale for a week—Eagle Pepper week for some of the new volunteers.

They also started going to the range regularly. Astrid did not know much about shooting, but she did frown at the ammunition expense more than once. At least they used reloads with black powder, even for most of the up-time weapons. That was far less expensive than up-time ammunition with smokeless powder, even though a portion of the savings was lost to cleaning supplies for the messier black powder. At the same time, she understood how important it was for them to hit what they aimed at.

Neustatter sent Hjalmar and Astrid to find out who the leading citizens of Grantville were. They soon found many other people had wanted exactly this information, and in her library research course at the high school, Astrid learned a new book had been written to provide it: Grantville Genealogy Club’s Who’s Who of Grantville Up-timers. Neustatter made sure all of them studied the book. Otto seemed particularly taken with it.

A lot had happened in the last three months, and everyone agreed it was time to send another letter to Pastor Claussen in their old village. Astrid did most of the writing, sometimes taking dictation from the others. Neustatter read it over and had her strike a few items.

“Written down in our files is okay. But anything sent to the village could fall into the wrong hands.”

Astrid’s initial annoyance faded as she thought about that. In the morning, she wrote a clean copy without certain information and sent it off.

* * *

Neustatter took the opportunity to continue learning martial arts. Gena Kroll had a handful of other students, too, and one Saturday afternoon she had just about finished throwing them around the thick blue wrestling mat at the high school when an up-timer a few years younger than Neustatter walked in.

“Gena!”

“Hey, Eric. Give me a couple minutes.”

As soon as Gena dismissed the class, the man approached her. “What would you say to dinner and a movie?”

“That depends—on where dinner is,” Gena told him. “I’m not going to the Club 250.”

That name registered with Neustatter. It was the small tavern across from the Thuringen Gardens and was frequented by the relatively few up-timers who did not like down-timers. He decided to take longer than usual to gather up his things.

“No, no, with the dinner-and-a-movie club,” came the quick response. “It’s at the Rawls’ tonight.”

“What’s the movie?” Gena asked.

“Citizen Kane.”

“And you waited until this afternoon to ask me?” Gena stood on the mat with her hands on her hips.

“The army—National Guard—whatever we are this week—had us on a big project, Gena. Wasn’t sure we’d get done in time. I know how much you like being stood up.”

Gena looked more-or-less mollified.

“Excuse me,” Neustatter ventured. “May I ask a question?”

“If you’re going to tell me I shouldn’t hang out at the Club 250, save it, down-timer,” the man growled.

“Eric!” Gena objected.

“Who cares about that,” Neustatter responded. “Movies?”

“Yeah, the dinner-and-a-movie club watches movies.” Both men grinned at his sarcasm. “Usually the more sophisticated ones that wouldn’t be appreciated by a wider audience on TV. Do you watch movies?”

“Ja. Chief Frost showed me She Wore a Yellow Ribbon. I like westerns and detective movies.”

“Eric, this is Edgar Neustatter. Neustatter, this is Eric Glen Hudson. You guys can talk movies for a few minutes. I’ll go shower and make myself presentable, Eric.”

After Gena left, Neustatter asked, “What is Citizen Kane about?”

Eric Hudson gave him a thumbnail sketch of the movie, then watched his expression. “Not enough action for you?”

“Would it help me understand Grantvillers?” Neustatter asked. “It sounds like it is about people from other places up-time.”

Hudson continued his study of Neustatter. “Now that is a very good observation. That’s what you’re doing with the movies, isn’t it? Learning about up-timers.”

“Ja.”

“Yeah,” Hudson corrected. “Short A.”

After a moment, Hudson mused, “Westerns and detectives . . . Neustatter, have you seen a movie called The Big Sleep?”

“Nein.”

“Do you know you can request movies? There’s a request list at the front desk in the library. We’ve got time to put The Big Sleep on the list before Gena gets back. Maybe we can get it shown in the auditorium.”


Friday, January 13, 1634


One day in early January, Astrid was sitting at the desk in the NESS office when the phone rang. She jumped and banged both knees against the underside of the desk. As she winced, the phone continued to ring.

“Hello. Neustatter’s European Security Services. Miss Schäubin speaking.”

“This is Eric Hudson. Tell Neustatter that The Big Sleep is showing in the high school auditorium Friday night at seven.”

“I will do so.”

“Make sure you do. He’ll enjoy it. Tell him to meet me out front at quarter of.”

The caller hung up before she could say anything else. Astrid told Neustatter but did not point out that some up-timers considered Friday the thirteenth unlucky.

That evening, Neustatter and Eric Hudson found seats in the auditorium next to a short down-timer with light brown hair and an equally light Van Dyke beard. Neustatter commented later on how serious the young man looked.

“Guten Abend.”

“Guten Abend.” Neustatter shook hands with him.

Hudson did not. He more or less ignored the other down-timer. “You’re going to like this one, Neustatter. The screenwriter was Leigh Brackett, the same woman who wrote Rio Bravo, El Dorado, and Rio Lobo. She was called the Queen of Space Opera before she started writing scripts. A lot of people don’t know this, but she wrote the first draft of The Empire Strikes Back, too.”

“This sounds promising.”

“All the same, I’m surprised The Big Sleep got enough votes to be shown this month. I was starting to think I was going to have to suggest it to the dinner-and-a-movie club.”

The other down-timer spoke up. “Excuse me, did you also request this movie?”

“Sure did,” the up-timer stated. “You requested it, too?”

“Yes. I was told it is a detective movie. I wish to learn about detectives.”

Eric Hudson laughed. “Well, you’re in luck then. You’re sittin’ next to one.”

“Edgar Neustatter. My men and I retired from the wars. Now we are security consultants.”

The up-timer laughed again. “‘Security consultant’ just means that Neustatter’s figured out how to be a cowboy and a detective at the same time.”

“A ‘cowboy’?”

“One genre at a time, okay?”

After the movie, the young down-timer ventured, “So that is a detective.”

“That is one style of detective,” Neustatter said. “The up-time movies are full of action. Sometimes a detective’s work is long hours of asking questions and standing around that all comes to nothing.”

“Hm.”

“Dank, Eric,” Neustatter continued. “I do enjoy Leigh Brackett’s work. I saw some things I will adopt and others that I will avoid.”

“Yeah, well, do yourself a favor and never take a divorce case.”

Neustatter handed the other down-timer a NESS business card. “If you should ever need a security consultant . . . My men and I do a lot of guard duty and escorting shipments. We do take detective cases, but as Eric says, no divorces. And if what you want is written information, you are better off hiring a library researcher.”

“I am a library researcher.”

“Then you should give me your card.”

“I, ah, do not have cards yet.”

“Have some made up,” Neustatter told him. “Many people need library researchers. I even hire one from time to time. I will look for you next time I need one, Herr . . . ”

“Casimir Wesner. Danke.”

* * *

Throughout the winter, goods intended for Magdeburg piled up at the machine shops and other businesses in Grantville. NESS picked up assignments standing guard duty at warehouses. Whenever the weather improved, a shipment went out. Often it went by train as far as possible before switching to wagons or sleighs. NESS guarded a couple of those shipments and got snowed in for a week in Halle on one of them. The men were working steadily, and on days they did not have an assignment, they were able to find day labor, clearing away snow after storms if nothing else. Neustatter even found time to arrange for NESS to join the Grantville Chamber of Commerce.

During the winter, the men spent less time away from home. Some of them occasionally went out to taverns, and Lukas occasionally disappeared until very late. But what they spent came out of their personal shares. NESS’ overall cash flow, as Astrid’s math class called it, improved. That was welcome. Buying weapons had used up most of NESS’ savings.

Whenever NESS did not have a mission, five of the men would find day labor. Neustatter always left one man available. Wolfram would report to Leahy Medical Center, and Karl found a blacksmith’s forge that would be happy to have him whenever available. Still, there were times that several NESS agents were in the office at the same time, so Neustatter bought more chairs.

Karl brought in little pay, preferring to be compensated in metal and working it on his own time. Any objections to that vanished when he finished a poker and tongs for the Franklin stove. Trivets for the cooking pots soon followed. Late in the winter, Karl moved to a foundry, expanding his skills and then making his own pour. He presented NESS with a large cast-iron skillet.

* * *

Soon both Ursula and Anna were pregnant. Both were inclined to find a midwife until Wolfram had a long talk with Anna about up-time medicine. After that, both of them went to Leahy Medical Center and saw a Doctor Shipley. Neither of them wanted their children born in refugee housing.

That worked out, since the apartment buildings on Kimberly Heights were completed mid-winter. Everyone wondered why places to live that were attached to each other were called apartments. Each had a central room with cooking facilities, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Joel Carstairs contacted Neustatter as soon as Building Two was finished, and NESS moved on February 1. They put the married couples in one—Wolfram and Anna in one bedroom, and Stefan, Ursula, and Johann in the other. The rest of them took the other apartment. Hjalmar, Ditmar, and Astrid were in one bedroom, and Neustatter, Otto, Karl, and Lukas in the other. The tables, chairs, and beds were relatively inexpensive but sturdy. Astrid thought whoever was building the furniture should probably hire NESS to guard him on his way to the bank.

They had accumulated some household goods since they had come to Grantville, so it took two trips in the cold to carry everything from the high school refugee housing to the apartments. The apartments were even closer to the NESS office than the refugee housing was. More importantly, they were their apartments. NESS were renting them, of course, but they finally had their own place.

That news went in the long letter they wrote to Pastor Claussen. Everyone just kept adding to it throughout the winter, and they would send it in the spring.

All of them quickly agreed it made more sense to continue to eat their meals together. Anna was having morning sickness, badly enough that she did not want to be around meat, so the other apartment became the main place of cooking. Ursula, who claimed not to be feeling any discomfort at all, organized it to her satisfaction. By now, each of them had his or her own plate, bowl, mug, knife, fork, and spoon—although Ursula occasionally muttered about forks being an affectation. Astrid spent more time helping prepare meals. So did the men. They had survived six years in the war eating their own cooking. Hjalmar and Ditmar were reasonably good cooks, Neustatter, Stefan, and Wolfram were passable, and Otto, Karl, and Lukas needed to be assigned other duties. They became responsible for the beer kegs.

Downtown Grantville was closed to vehicles during the day, so it was difficult to buy kegs of small beer and carry them home. Apparently older up-timers remembered when milk was delivered just like mail or newspapers, and most of the brewers in town had gotten together and set up routes. The area NESS lived in—Route 250 and side roads east of Deborah Road—got deliveries on Monday. They paid a deposit for each wooden keg and then got that money back when they turned it in the following week. It took a couple weeks to figure out how many kegs they needed. They had water, of course, and Leigh Ann assured them it was safe. They knew that by now but preferred small beer.

One of the reasons they cooked together was that often all eight men were not needed to guard a building. Sometimes it was four at a time, and stew could be warmed over the fire for those coming off a guard shift. Ursula also sent them to guard duty with meat and vegetable turnovers. Everyone started collecting different names for them. Depending on whom you asked, one of these was either a strudel, a pasty, an empanada, or a stromboli. Apparently, every country had something like this. The big differences came from what you put inside. For NESS, that usually meant whatever was available—although Ursula did not believe in tomato sauce. At first, they did not want to eat potatoes, either, thinking they were just for livestock. But then some of Astrid’s classmates dragged her to the Freedom Arches, where fries were one of the expensive choices on the menu.

That was still not enough to convince Ursula. But then Leigh Ann came out to the new apartments to check on them. Half the men were out on guard duty. The others were asleep—they had guard duty that night.

“How are you ladies doing?”

“We are well,” Ursula answered. She pointed at Astrid. “Even if that one keeps pestering me to cook animal food.”

Leigh Ann looked very confused.

“She means potatoes,” Astrid supplied. “I had fries.”

Leigh Ann snickered. “Another victim of the Freedom Arches, I see. Best fries up-time, if you ask me.”

“Even if any of us wanted to eat them, boiling them in fat and oil sounds dangerous,” Ursula stated.

“It can be,” Leigh Ann agreed. “But you can bake fries. There’re a lot of other things you can do with potatoes, too. You can bake the whole potato. You can also bake the meat and potatoes together. If it’s chicken or fish or even beans, with potatoes or noodles and stock or wine then it’s a casserole. But if it’s red meat, potatoes, and cream of something-or-other soup, then it’s a hot dish.” She smiled. “Some people get worked up over the difference.”

Astrid reached for her notepad, quill, and inkwell, but Ursula reached out a hand to stop her.

“I understand this,” she said. “It is like the strudels, but the whole meal for everyone is in a single pan.”

“Close enough,” Leigh Ann agreed. “And if you’ve got a little bit of butter or lard, you can cut potatoes up and fry them in a pan. James and I had some in a fancy restaurant up-time once. They called them potatoes julienne. He calls ’em ‘hunting camp potatoes’ because that’s how the guys made them at camp.”

“Jäger fries,” Anna murmured. “We should try this.”

Ursula did not look impressed.

“Anyway,” Leigh Ann said, “I need a ‘girls’ day,’ and I thought you ladies might need one, too.” She paused and looked at Astrid. “And you need to get your hair cut and styled, Astrid.”

Astrid gave Leigh Ann a very wary look. She did not like how many up-time women wore their hair.

“Secretaries don’t wear a long braid and a kerchief. Or whatever you call it.”

* * *

After dinner, Astrid asked, “Neustatter do you have a minute?”

“Ja.”

“Frau Haun—Leigh Ann Ennis—had an idea.” Astrid explained their conversation.

Neustatter shrugged. “I do not see why not. Keep it reasonable. Something your brother won’t glare at me about.”

“Oh, Hjalmar would glare at me,” she assured him.

So, one Saturday, Leigh Ann, Ursula, Anna, and Astrid went to the Curl and Tan Beauty Shoppe. Astrid approached cautiously when one of the women beckoned her to a chair.

“Hi. I’m Desiree Reynolds. What would you like?” She seemed friendly enough.

“Just a trim.” Leigh Ann had explained that term earlier.

The woman nodded in understanding. “Just enough to even everything up, right? Standard down-time cut? Two, maybe three inches?”

“I want to look respectable,” Astrid explained. Frau Reynolds kept nodding. “I am a secretary for NESS.” She told the beautician a little bit about Neustatter’s European Security Services.

“Honey, if you just want a trim, I’ll do that,” Frau Reynolds said. “But if you’re the secretary for private eyes, you really ought to go for glamorous. Because you could really pull it off.”

“That’s what I told her,” Leigh Ann contributed from the next chair.

“Tell me about this glamorous, bitte.”

“You have such pretty hair. You really shouldn’t braid it all the time. What if we brought some of it in front of your shoulders”—she demonstrated—“and gave it a wave? Trim a few inches here, but just a couple in back. You could still wear a kerchief, if that’s what you want.”

From the next chair, Leigh Ann signaled her approval. Ursula was frowning. Anna’s face held a mischievous expression Astrid hadn’t seen on it in years.

“I do not want to make a mistake,” Astrid said. “Would you explain that to me again, bitte?”

After the beautician did so, Astrid nodded. She must have looked apprehensive, because Frau Reynolds said, “You can trust Desiree. I won’t steer you wrong.”

On the way back toward our apartments, Anna nudged her. “Those two young men over there are looking at you,” she whispered.

“Nein,” Astrid said. But she checked, using a reflection in a store window. She had read about that in a mystery book. The two young men were indeed staring in their direction, but it could have been at any of them.

The three of them thanked Leigh Ann when they reached Deborah Road. Leigh Ann turned off to go to the Ennis farm.

When the men got home, Neustatter’s comment was, “Good balance.” Astrid gave him a quick smile to show she understood that he had spoken first and approved so that no one could criticize.

Hjalmar just sighed dramatically. “I am going to have to beat off your suitors now.”

Astrid poked him in the ribs.


Tuesday, February 7, 1634


Just as manufactured goods had been piling up in Grantville during the winter, newly made firearms had accumulated in Suhl, Schleusingen, and Schmalkalden. The National Guard wanted to pick up what it had ordered before any of those weapons found their way into the increasing unrest in Franconia, which was just on the other side of the Thüringerwald. The plan was for a major shipment before the roads were clear—using sleighs. Someone without a solid grasp of the weather picked March 1.

Not two full days later, early in February, the researcher Neustatter had met at the movies called NESS. Casimir Wesner wanted to consult NESS on the safety of someone who was about to visit Grantville. Neustatter met with Wesner. He did not tell Astrid what they discussed, but he did have her rearrange a couple guard shifts at a machine shop in Grantville to leave him and Ditmar free on Tuesday.

While the Higgins Hotel was the fanciest place to stay in Grantville, it was outside of town. Neustatter checked it and then ruled it out. By early afternoon, he’d determined that The Inn of the Maddened Queen would suit his client’s purposes much better. Ditmar later told Astrid and Hjalmar that Neustatter had stationed him along the main street to watch for Wesner. At first, Ditmar thought that was an excessive precaution. However, when Wesner got off a tram at the nearest stop, Ditmar quickly spotted two other people who disembarked and followed him. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man built along the same lines as Neustatter himself. The other was a blonde-haired woman. Both were down-timers.

Ditmar fell in behind them. They were doing a reasonable job following Wesner, who apparently had no situational awareness. That was a term all the men knew from basic training. But the two tails—that word came from the movies—were not looking around, either. Ditmar was able to follow them in turn, and he was looking around to see if there were any other players in the game.

Neustatter saw them coming, of course. He sent Wesner into the inn, while he stepped forward to confront the pair.

“Why are the two of you following my client?”

“Uh . . . uh . . . ” The man obviously could think of nothing to say.

“Why do you think we are following him?” asked the woman.

“’Cause you kept the same distance behind him all the way down the street. Not a whole lot of situational awareness, though.” Neustatter pointed behind them.

The man knew enough not to fall for that. “You look,” he muttered to the woman.

She did. “There is another man behind us, dressed just like him, coming this way.”

“So why are you following Herr Riedel?”

“Who?” the man blurted out.

“Oh, so you know his name isn’t Riedel . . . ”

The man realized he’d just been outsmarted. “What do you want with him?” he countered.

“When he comes back outside, he can share as much or as little of his business with you as he pleases,” Neustatter told him.

The man tried again. “And who are you?”

“Edgar Neustatter. I run Neustatter’s European Security Services.”

The man fidgeted until Casimir Wesner exited The Inn of the Maddened Queen.

“Mathew! Frau Boekhorst!” Wesner immediately exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Following you,” Neustatter stated.

“Why?” Wesner asked.

“You have been leaving school quickly every evening, and you are obviously up to something.”

Wesner glanced around and appeared to consider his words carefully. “You know I was sent to Grantville by Saxe-Altenburg,” he began, “to look for banking and investment opportunities. But the bank can pay only part of my salary. My supervisor pays the rest. He asked me to arrange lodging for an army officer and his wife.”

“Saxon?”

“USE Army.”

“Could we not have helped you with this?” the man he had called Mathew asked.

Wesner’s gesture encompassed the three of them. “Do you know where to seek safe and reputable lodgings for adel?”

Both of the others shook their heads no, more than a bit grudgingly.

“My thoughts were the Higgins Hotel or somewhere in Castle Hills,” Wesner continued, “but Neustatter pointed out that lodging within Grantville itself is more convenient and safer because they will not have to cross open country every day.”

“If safety is a concern, they ought to have bodyguards,” Neustatter stated. “However . . . May I discuss the details?”

“Yes, of course.”

Neustatter studied Matthew and Frau Boekhorst for several seconds. “Very well. If my men and I guarded an army officer, people would wonder why. It would attract more attention to him. I assume a USE officer can handle himself?”

“Ja.”

“Then you and Mathew ought to be enough. Perhaps Frau Boekhorst can accompany his wife.”

“We are not bodyguards,” Mathew stated. “Or detectives.”

Neustatter shrugged. “As I told Herr Wesner, I have a contract that will take both my teams out of town that week.”

“Danke. Is there anything else I should do?”

Neustatter started to shake his head, but then grinned. “Ja. Take them to the movies.”


Friday, February 10, 1634


“Neustatter, I’ve got something to tell you,” Chief Frost announced.

Neustatter and Astrid waited expectantly. Chief Frost had called the office a couple days ago and asked them to come in sometime in the next few days.

“I’m resigning next month. It’s time somebody started sharing with other cities and towns how police work developed up-time. I’m going to be doing that full-time, basing out of Magdeburg. The military police have done a pretty good job here in Thuringia, but somebody needs to teach police procedure from a civilian perspective.”

Neustatter grimaced. He sat there for a long moment before speaking. “We would rather have you here, but I understand what you are saying.”

“This boom town is pretty well under control. Press Richards will be the new police chief, and he’ll do a great job. There are good people working in Magdeburg already, but Grantville and Magdeburg aren’t the only growing cities. When a city gets big enough, everyone doesn’t know everyone else, and that brings in a whole different kind of crime. I want to get ahead of it in this universe.” He touched a button on his phone. “Mimi, ask Press to step into my office, please.”

Preston Richards shook hands with them readily. While Dan Frost had accepted that mercenary companies and security agencies simply existed, Astrid thought Richards had not completely come to terms with it. Her impression was that he’d rather there not be a need for them. In the books, movies, and television shows, the polizei never wanted private agencies around. So it would not surprise her if Richards followed the up-time tradition. But unlike private detectives, NESS did not actually get in the way of the polizei.

On their way home, Neustatter told Astrid, “With Chief Frost leaving, we will not have someone to give us advice. We will have to learn more up-time history. Let’s stop at the State Library and find out what they have about security contractors, unions, and labor disputes—since we already know the Pinkertons were involved in those.”

At the library, Astrid quickly found that there were some published research papers on those subjects. They purchased a copy of “The Mining Wars.” Soon Neustatter was finding out about Matewan and Blair Mountain. A reference to a Battle of Athens intrigued him. With Astrid’s help, later that week, Neustatter had enough information to satisfy himself.

“A narrow victory,” he told Astrid, Ditmar, and Hjalmar. “No one seized the initiative and pushed an attack all the way through. Next time we are part of the Eagle Pepper exercise, we need to get the recruits to include the villagers right from the beginning. We will learn from Athens.”


Saturday, February 18, 1634


Astrid was not the only one in classes during the winter. Neustatter had all the adults who had not yet taken the citizenship class enroll.

“I want everyone to pass the class,” he said. “If anyone needs help, go see Astrid or come to me or your team leader. If you need time to study, ask and I will rearrange guard shifts.”

An election was coming up on February 22. Franconia was voting on whether to join the State of Thuringia. Even though Grantville would not be voting, that date made an excellent deadline. Lukas and Karl passed the citizenship test the week before. Then on Saturday, February 18, 1634, all of NESS, even young Johann, walked downtown to city hall and took the loyalty oath.

Grantville City Hall was even less imposing than the polizei station. While the police building could pass for a modest schloss, city hall seemed to Astrid to be not much bigger than one of the mobile homes. It was brick, and the roof had a very shallow pitch. Thin metal posts painted white held a smaller section of roof over two low sets of brick steps that led up to small landings at either end of the front of the building. It was a small building for as large a city as Grantville was these days.

The parking lot was equally modest, just an extension of the pavement on Mead Avenue. Yellow stripes divided it into a row of nine parking places for up-time vehicles. That was it.

Today the parking lot was full. Several dozen people were about to become citizens, and most of them had family and friends in attendance.

Mayor Henry Dreeson administered the oath. He made a point of reminding everyone they could swear or affirm. Astrid saw one family nodding solemnly.

All of them raised their right hands. “I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the State of Thuringia . . . So help me God.”

NESS celebrated with lunch at the Thuringen Gardens.

Then they went home.


Sunday, February 26, 1634


The men left on Saturday, February 25. If all went well, they would reach Schleusingen two days early. Neustatter did not trust the sleighs.

Sure enough, on Sunday afternoon, the lead sleigh suddenly slewed sideways, and the driver quickly halted the horses. The sleigh was tipped to the right. Neustatter quickly jumped out and peered underneath.

“Looks like we lost a runner!” he called to the others.

The other three sleighs coasted to a stop, and Karl piled out of the third one. It took him only a minute to assess the situation in Amideutsch.

“Aw, crap. A strut gave way. When it shifted, the second strut twisted from the stress until it snapped.”

“Can you fix it?” Neustatter asked.

“In a blacksmith’s shop, ja. Out here? I cannot really fix it. See this metal coupling?” Karl pointed to where half a strut was dangling from an iron sleeve. “That has to be unbolted to get the broken strut out. Then we can put one of the spares in.”

He got to his feet and dusted snow off his trousers. “I think I can refit the front strut. Then if we splint the back one, we can probably limp into the next village.”

“What do you need us to do?” Neustatter asked.

“Empty the sleigh, unhitch the horses, and tip it up on its side,” Karl directed.

They emptied the sleigh, and then with everyone lifting, they flipped it up on one side. Karl put the runner back on and splinted the broken strut. Then they eased it back down. One of the other sleighs broke trail ahead of the damaged one. With just the driver on board, and him sitting as far left as he could on the bench, the horses were able to slowly pull it to the next village.

They had to stop once and redo the splint. By the time they reached the next village, everyone was cold and damp. Then the local blacksmith refused to work on the Sabbath. So they paid arguably too much to crowd into a spare room.

The blacksmith took a look at the sleigh in the morning. He confirmed what Karl had said. The two of them worked all day repairing the sleigh, drawing in some of the other men when needed. They stayed a second night and arrived in Schleusingen on Tuesday. NESS went to Suhl on Wednesday, Schmalkalden on Thursday, and started back to Grantville just in time for a thaw on Friday.


Saturday, March 4, 1634


Just ten days before, Franconia had voted to join the State of Thuringia, which was what the NUS had changed its name to. It was now going to change again, to the State of Thuringia-Franconia, and there were those who did not like that. And NESS was guarding four sleighs full of weapons that could barely move.

They made it into Suhl before the gate closed on Saturday.

“Head for the garrison,” Neustatter directed. “The sleighs will be easier to guard there.”

Once the sleighs were as safe as they were going to get, Neustatter put Hjalmar’s team on guard duty and sent Ditmar’s team to an inn with the sleigh drivers.

“Drivers, get a good night’s sleep,” Neustatter directed. “Team One, eat, but don’t drink too much. You will be switching places with Team Two so that they can eat, too.”

“And where will you be?” Stefan asked.

“I am going to find a radio and see if anyone can tell me when it might snow again.”

It took a good while and more money than he wanted to spend, but Neustatter found out it would not be worth switching to wagons. NESS was stuck in Suhl until a storm came Monday night. It was the kind some up-timers called “wintry mix”: some snow, some sleet, and some rain. It was miserable weather, but produced just enough accumulation for the sleighs to run on.

By the time they straggled in Thursday night, the men were cold, wet, tired, and most of them were getting sick. Soon everyone was sick. Next, they were all visiting doctors’ offices.

Between a longer mission than anticipated and the fact that Neustatter declined missions until he had at least a team healthy enough to carry them out, NESS earned next to no money for a couple weeks and had higher expenses from medical visits. Astrid’s adult math class had covered this situation. Not making money you expected to make was not the same thing as losing money. Nevertheless, NESS’ available cash dwindled.


Wednesday, March 15, 1634


On the next Wednesday, Neustatter, Wolfram, Stefan, Ursula, and Johann were more-or-less recovered. That meant one apartment was on the mend, except for Anna. The other apartment was miserable, except for Neustatter, who was just plain too stubborn to stay sick. But the machine shop needed guards, and Neustatter, Wolfram, and Stefan stayed up all night. In the morning, they handed off to Bretagne’s Company.

A couple days later, Neustatter made a point of dropping by Bretagne’s Company’s headquarters to thank them for picking up that shift. He ran into Giulio Bretagne himself.

The wiry, dapper Italian sized him up before shaking hands.

“So you are the cowboy,” Bretagne observed.

“Das bin ich,” Neustatter responded. “That is me. Dank for taking that shift for us. Most of my men are sick after a mission to Schleusingen.”

“Do not take this the wrong way, but I will always be pleased to take one of your shifts. I do not understand how a small company like yours gets so many.” Bretagne stroked his mustachios and evidently swallowed his pride. “How are you doing it?”

Neustatter grinned. “I go to the Chamber of Commerce meetings. Those businesses will call who they know.”

Bretagne stumbled over the words. “The Chamber of Commerce? We are not bürger.”

“Ja, we are—in the up-timers’ eyes,” Neustatter stated.

“Strange folk. But they pay many of the bills, si?”

“They certainly do.” Neustatter considered something. “Come to the next Chamber of Commerce meeting with me.”

It was mud season, but that did not really explain why manufactured goods were piling up at the Grantville machine shops again. Some of the major roads were graveled, and while they would certainly be muddy, up-time trucks could usually make it through. The following week, a now-healthy NESS guarded a big shipment to Erfurt, but not much was going north yet.


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