Grantville Gazette, Volume 40 (18 page)

"Oh! How long is all this going to take? Because I really need to get those calculations done."

"Six hours if you hang around to help, three if you let me just get on and do it. That's if I have all the necessary equipment."

"Okay, you get started and I'll see what I can round up."

"Don't forget my hundred dollars," Catrin called to Claus' departing back.

****

Just under three hours later a very dirty Catrin demonstrated to Claus how well a properly maintained Wetmore Mark II could function. "There we are. Now . . . my money?" She held out her hand expectantly.

"You were asking about the Girl Friday position . . ."

Catrin rubbed her thumb and fingers together suggestively. "The money."

"That's more than we keep in petty cash."

"I can wait." And she could. Those hundred dollars would allow her to pay back Stephan the money he'd lent her.

"One of your tasks as Girl Friday will be to properly maintain the Wetmore, and we aren't paying you a hundred dollars each time you do a tear-down," Claus said as he led Catrin to the main office, where he opened a safe and removed some money.

"If it's properly maintained, it shouldn't need to be done more than every other month. So, does this mean you're offering me the job?"

Claus counted out ten ten-dollar bills into Catrin's waiting hand. "It seems a vacancy has occurred, and you do seem to know your way around the Wetmore. What are your typing and shorthand like?"

****

Catrin settled in easily at Köppe's, which became Delp's a short time later when Master Köppe left and Claus Delp took over. She wasn't even upset that she failed to latch onto Claus before he was nabbed by a local girl—mostly because not even his own mother would have called him cute. The poor girl who betrothed herself, with not inconsiderable help and prodding from her father and uncles, to Claus had her sympathy. Or she would have had Catrin's sympathy if she hadn't been yet another overly well-endowed female winning the prize. A girl could get a complex if she wasn't careful.

A Girl Friday had no specific tasks to do. She was at the beck and call of everybody, but that had some advantages. There was no way she would have learned how to strip down a hot-bulb engine or learned to drive a motorboat while working for the Saalfeld Council. She turned the Higgins boat she'd been "testing" and headed for home. She'd been out for over an hour and chances were that someone had found a job that only she could be spared to do.

Claus was waiting for her when she bumped up against the wharf. She shut down the engine before jumping onto the wharf to tie up. Normally, even Master Claus Delp would have tied up for her so she could do the proper shutdown of the hot-bulb engine, but Claus had recently managed to break his right leg and do something nasty to his right wrist. The leg was in one of the new plaster casts, while the wrist was just heavily strapped. It meant he wasn't agile enough to jump around tying up boats, and didn't he let everyone know how frustrating he found the limitations.

"Catrin, I need to get to Magdeburg, urgently."

Catrin sort of ignored her boss as she completed the shutdown operations. Claus often had to make trips to Magdeburg, mostly for business. He had taken Catrin along a couple of times to take notes at various meetings, so it wasn't unusual for him to tell her he had to make such a trip. Then something exciting occurred to Catrin. Claus had a vehicle called a hovercraft. He'd bought it from an up-timer who'd used it to carry passengers and freight on the Saale before the railroad put him out of business. Not that Herr O'Connor would recognize the beast these days. Claus might not be one for instruction manuals, but he was one for proper research. He'd paid for Catrin to visit Grantville to locate and collate as much information as she could on hovercraft, and then he'd gone to town improving Herr O'Connor's creation. These days it was certainly a sight to behold. It had an up-time engine to inflate the skirt and one of the new radial engines to provide propulsion. It looked fast just standing still, and it was fast, capable of up to sixty miles per hour.

"You can't pilot the hovercraft with that leg and wrist," Catrin said, with just a hint of wishful thinking in her voice.

"I know, which means you'll have to take the controls."

That was exactly what Catrin had hoped Claus was going to say, not that he looked that happy to be saying it. She took Claus' attitude as a clue on how to go on. "Do I have time to practice?"

"That's what we're going to do right now."

March 1635

It had been three weeks since Catrin's first terrifying, but fun, attempts to control the hovercraft. She'd quickly learned that changes in direction needed to be planned well in advance. Learning to change direction had, according to Claus, added significantly to the gray hairs on his head. Catrin had found piloting the hovercraft exhilarating, and she wasn't looking forward to the day when the doctor cut off Claus' cast and he took back the task of piloting for himself.

Today was yet another trip for Claus to visit his timber supplier. He was using plywood made in Magdeburg from timber imported from Norway, and he was hoping to get some of the cut veneers before they were turned into plywood so he could experiment with molding the plywood into various shapes.

Catrin steered the hovercraft to its landing bay near the naval base in Magdeburg and cut the power. Immediately the craft sank to the ground. She climbed out and helped Claus out. While he sat on the side of the vehicle she unloaded his crutches and briefcase before pulling the canvas cover over the passenger compartment to protect it from the elements. With the cover secure she helped Claus to his feet, and carrying the briefcase herself gestured for Claus to precede her. "Lead on, Master."

Claus humphed. "Master you call me, but you don't treat me like your master."

"I piloted you safely to Magdeburg. Without getting you wet. What more can you ask for?"

"A little subservience wouldn't go amiss. You're giving Margaretha ideas."

Catrin smiled smugly. She was enjoying giving Margaretha ideas. They all originated from her time at school in Grantville and played heavily on the idea that women were just as important and valuable as men.

****

They hadn't been in the meeting with the supplier for long when there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Master Hogeweg asked of the apprentice at the door.

"There is a naval officer who wishes to speak with Master Delp, Master Hogeweg."

"A naval officer?" Claus struggled to turn in his chair. "I wonder what the navy wants?"

"Show him in, Franz."

An officer entered and removed his cap. "Lieutenant Kelleher at your service, Master Delp. The navy would like to hire you and your hovercraft for an urgent trip to Grantville. We'll provide you with fuel for the return trip, but we need to get six men and their equipment to Grantville as soon as possible."

"Sure, no problem. When would you like to hire it?" Claus asked.

"Right now, if that's possible," Lieutenant Kelleher said.

Claus pointed to his leg in its plaster cast. "I can't pilot it right now, but if you don't mind trusting to a female pilot, Catrin here is, I'm sure, very willing to pilot the hovercraft for you. I just wish it was me making the trip."

Catrin nodded her head vigorously. She definitely wanted to pilot the hovercraft, and if the trip was
urgent
, maybe she could really open her up. There were usually other people on the river, and they had to keep the speed down so as not to create too great a wash, or create too much noise from the main engine. "Will the navy will take care of any complaints from other river users?"

"Anything short of actual physical damage," Lieutenant Kelleher said. "You'll have to pay for anything you break."

"I'll just go and check the fuel and everything," Catrin told the room. "Master Delp, you'll contact Grantville to make sure everything is ready for the return trip?" There was no need to tell everyone that the arrangements would include arranging for paying cargo and passengers for the return trip.

April, Arendal, Norway

Agmund Torgeirson laid down the newspaper and stared into the distance. A hovercraft. Someone in the USE had a boat, or something like a boat, that could also travel on land, or at least on relatively flat land. That sounded like just the vehicle his son needed up at Kirkenes. The expedition for the iron and nickel ore was having a few difficulties getting around. The water was deep enough for the boats, but they had to portage them across the land that separated the patches of water. A vehicle that could easily move over both would save valuable time. There was also someone who might know something about the hovercraft here in Arendal. A visit to Master Spengler at his new paper mill seemed indicated.

Delp's Boatyard, Schönebeck

"Catrin, get in here," Claus bellowed.

"You called, Master?" Catrin said as she came through the door.

"Yes, and can the sarcasm. How would you like to pilot the hovercraft full time?"

Catrin's eyes lit up—that high speed trip down to Grantville had been as thrilling as she'd hoped it would be—only for the light to fade almost immediately. "But there is no need for a full-time pilot."

"There's no need for a full-time pilot here, but I've received a letter." He held up the offending document that had somehow arrived on Claus' desk without passing through Catrin's in-tray. "An Agmund Torgeirson, from Arendal, Norway, is interested in buying or renting my hovercraft for use in the Kirkenes area. The money he's offering is enough for me to be willing to sell it—it's not as if I can't build a better one. However, the sale depends on them having someone to pilot the hovercraft, and who is capable of maintaining it." Claus paused. "How good are you at maintaining the radial engine?"

Catrin was suddenly excited again. "About as good as anyone in the shop." It wasn't even a lie. None of the workforce at the boatyard was formally qualified to work on the radial engine. "I'll just need a load of spares to take with me, though. Where is Kirkenes anyway?"

Claus moved with the lightness of foot of someone recently liberated from a plaster cast to the map of Europe hanging on the wall, and after searching for a couple of minutes pointed to a spot in the far north of Norway. "Right there. The resource markings suggest the area is rich in iron and nickel."

Catrin looked at the map. Kirkenes was a long way from Schönebeck, and it was well north of the Arctic Circle, which meant it was probably going to be cold. "How long is the contract for?"

"As long as they need you I expect. They'll pay well, and I'm sure there will be other benefits. But you won't be the only girl. Apparently there is at least one up-time girl running a survey team up there."

Catrin wasn't sure that was a good thing. Up-time girls were even more attractive to down-time men than well-endowed down-time girls.

"I'll be sorry to lose you, of course."

Catrin snorted at the outright lie. It wasn't that they didn't work well together, but she was still doing her best to lead Margaretha astray, and she was a salary that Claus could dispense with as she'd also taught Margaretha how to look after the Wetmore and how to use the typewriter. "When do I start?"

"Immediately. Herr Torgeirson has retained a Magdeburg lawyer to handle everything."

May, Arendal

Unlike Hamburg, which was a shallow harbor subjected to a tidal range of over ten feet, Arendal was a natural deepwater harbor with a tidal range of under eighteen inches. That meant ships in Hamburg couldn't tie up at wharves, and instead had to ride at anchor while cargo and passengers were moved by lighter, while ships at Arendal could float up alongside a dock and transfer passengers and cargo directly.

By the time Catrin walked off the ship, her cabin luggage trailing behind on the shoulder of a willing sailor, a group of men and wagons had turned up. She was hopeful that these were representatives of her employer, Herr Torgeirson, and headed towards them.

The ship's captain was talking to one of the men, and when he pointed towards Catrin, she knew this had to be Herr Torgeirson. However, the look of abject horror on the man's face when he saw her wasn't reassuring. She felt in the shoulder bag she had slung across her chest for the German-Norwegian phrase book she'd picked up in Magdeburg and flicked through the pages.

"Hello, are you Herr Torgeirson? I'm Catrin Schmoller, the hovercraft pilot." At least that was what she hoped she said, but the man's violent cringing suggested her pronunciation left a lot to be desired.

"But you are a woman!"

"Give the man a cigar," she muttered to herself. It was a phrase she'd picked up from her fellow students back in Grantville, and it suited her feelings to a tee. That was another expression she'd picked up in Grantville, even if she wasn't entirely sure what it meant. She thought it might have its origins in the figure hugging T-shirts some of the girls wore. "Yes, I'm a woman." She stared at the man, daring him to say anything.

"But we require someone to pilot the hovercraft."