Book 5: Earl of the Marches
Ed & Carol Nelson
Cast in Time
Book 5
Earl of the Marches
By Ed Nelson
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Dedication
This book is dedicated to my wife, Carol, for her support and help as my first reader and editor.
With special thanks to Ole Rotorhead for his technical insights on how things really work.
Then there are my beta readers: Ole Rotorhead, Lonelydad, Antti Huotari, Brent, Craig, and Don.
And never forget the professional editor, Janet E. Rupert
Quotation
"According to 'M' theory, ours is not the only universe. Instead, 'M' theory predicts that a great many universes were created out of nothing."
Stephen Hawking
Other books by Ed Nelson
The Richard Jackson Saga
Book 1: The Beginning
Book 2: Schooldays
Book 3: Hollywood
Book 4: In the Movies
Book 5: Star to Deckhand
Book 6: Surfing Dude
Book 7: Third Time is a Charm
Book 8: Oxford University
Book 9: Cold War
Book 10: Taking Care of Business
Book 11: Interesting Times
Book 12: Escape from Siberia
Book 13: Regicide
Book 14: What's Under, Down Under?
Book 15: The Lunar Kingdom
Book 16: First Steps
Stand Alone Stories
Ever and Always
Mary, Mary
The Cast in Time series
Book 1: Baron
Book 2: Baron of the Middle Counties
Book 3: Count
Book 4: Earl
Book 5: Earl of the Marches
Copyright © 2024
E. E. Nelson
All rights reserved
Eastern Shore Publishing
2331 West Del Webb Blvd.
Sun City Center, FL 33673
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-953395-88-7
Library of Congress Control Number: 20239124
Table of Contents
Cast in Time
Dedication
Quotation
Other books by Ed Nelson
Copyright © 2024
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Backmatter
Other books by Ed Nelson
Chapter 1
Now that we had conquered the Franks and began to absorb them into our culture, an immediate problem resulted from our victory.
We now had a border with the Gauls. They were related to the Celts and could communicate with many of our people.
This territory was the area that would become known as Germany. The Gauls were an expansionist group due to pressure from the Slav tribes. Broken into small tribes, they could be handled easily. Once one of the tribes became dominant, they would be a handful.
Our ability to communicate with them was another opportunity for us to change their culture.
Unfortunately for me, there was a dominant tribe at our northern border. This area would become Alsace-Lorraine in the future. Alsace-Lorraine would be the site of many future battles between modern France and Germany. The area is rich in coal and iron ores, which were a constant bone of contention.
I wasn't ready for a battle with the Gauls then, so I had to stabilize our mutual border to avoid war.
By stabilizing the border, I meant making it so strong they wouldn't dream of crossing it. Sure, they could dream of crossing our border but not do it.
Our common border was too long to build a wall along its length. At least all at once.
We had done this enough that my people had it down to a science. First, we kept a large army stationed along the border to prevent incursions while we built our defenses. This tactic was countered by the Gauls stationing troops on their side of the border.
The only difference was that we understood logistics and the need to provide food to our army. The Gauls were still at the point where they lived off the land.
Living off the land worked for an army on the march, not for a stationary army. They soon had killed off all the deer and wild pigs in their area. They had to go farther and farther to keep their men fed. Any farmer in their area had long fled, leaving little in their wake.
On the other hand, we cut roads immediately so supplies could be brought to the new front. In some cases, we were able to rehabilitate old Roman roads. Our front lines had been laid out. Along the frontier, we had a series of forts built. At first, they were nothing but rough camps built like the old Roman marching camps.
As soon as one of these camps was ready for occupancy, we started on a more permanent version within a few days. Our forts could withstand anything less than cannon fire with double-wide concrete walls and watch towers.
Inside the walls, we built standard barracks and support buildings. We also added oversized warehouses. The idea was to have more than enough food to feed our people and provide the Gauls with food if needed.
I wanted to be a good neighbor while being prepared to fend off attacks.
The surveyors started laying out the roads and railroad paths to connect Paris to the northern border. There would be three main roads and main lines out of Paris. There would be several roads crisscrossing so traffic could be diverted from one location to another as needed.
While the physical stuff was underway, we also opened a dialog with the chieftains along the way. We wanted the local Franks to benefit from what we were doing and to influence the Gauls on our border.
We ensured that our Franks were well fed and had MASH units visit them to address health problems. Baroness Agnes had started with a single mobile hospital. She now had one hundred of them fully staffed and working our country and our allies.
They moved freely about the country. We always sent a guard contingent along, but it was woe to anyone who attacked a MASH unit. They were hailed as miracle workers everywhere they went, and to attack them was madness. The locals would hunt them down and kill them to a man. It only took a couple of times, and the units were sacrosanct.
All along our border with the Gauls, we sent teams to upgrade their food and grain storage and improve their roads and MASH units to help with their health care.
We also provided radio sets to every village. They could receive and transmit. They were told we would respond if they were attacked and to call us. These were for communication. We also provided battery-powered receiving units so they could listen to our music programs.
The batteries could be exchanged for new or recharged ones at the many trading posts we established along the border. We kept them fully stocked with a full range of goods as usual; mirrors were the most sought-after items. The next items sought after were small telescopes.
We even set up photography studios at each marketplace. For a very small fee, we would take pictures of anyone requesting it.
Since we had a tavern at each trading post, we had the normal amount of drunken rowdiness. Drunks were thrown in the drunk tank for the night and released the next morning. We took their fingerprints and pictures to start a database of troublemakers.
Most were innocent farm boys out on the town for the first time. Others were thieves and troublemakers. We also had a guest registry at each marketplace. Our "guests" were entered into the census database we were starting on the Gauls.
In Vietnam, we called it hearts and minds. The only difference was that we had a chance of it working here. The Gauls were segmented into so many tribes that they were always in a low-conflict situation with each other. As such, there was no organized insurgency.
We met with the local chiefs in each area and made agreements with them. We would defend them from open incursions if they didn't attack us. It was understood if they raided another tribe, they were on their own as far as self-defense.
That plan worked about half the time. There was always something stirring between the tribes along the border. That was fine with me as long as they left us alone.
Only once did we have to send in troops to retrieve our citizens, who had been seized in a raid. They would have been sold as slaves further into Gaul. The village warriors thought they could resist and paid the price. Once our people were safe, we leveled the village. No woman and children were harmed directly, but they were left without food and shelter.
Pax Cornwall was a harsh pax.
We had twenty thousand troops to secure the border with fifteen hundred cannons in support. Two thousand of the troops were mounted cavalry.
As the roads were built, the track beds for our trains were laid. These were the first tracks with four feet eight and a half inches between them. This width was the United States standard gauge. We had developed steam locomotives that were Atlantic class 4-4-2 engines. With that, we could haul full-sized railcars.
We instituted the first in France since there were no tracks in place. A replacement program was underway in all Cornish territories, but it would take years to implement.
In a bit of nostalgia, I had the box cars labeled forty and eight. They could haul more, but it seemed fitting for me to use that marking in France.
While all this was happening, I realized it was time to start on another level of invention. Maybe we were ready for the vacuum tube to improve our lighting and radio system. Developing a working light bulb would take a lot of trial and error. Though I knew what Edison and his technicians had gone through, it would still be a chore.
With all that going on, you would think I wouldn't have time for my family. It was just the opposite. I finally had a bureaucracy set up that could handle the day-to-day affairs of Cornwall. The military was operating under the command of their officers, and the officers were supported by a staff similar to that of the Pentagon.
The only difference was that our "Pentagon" staff officers had to buy in for any changes the field officer corps wanted. The Pentagon, in turn, couldn't force changes on the field officers, only make suggestions. This policy left the ones at the sharp end in control of their fate.
We now had an Army, Navy, Marine Corps, and Air Force. The Air Force primarily comprised observation balloons, but work was ongoing to manufacture large dirigibles for long-distance flights and heavy lifting. Heavier than air flight was a long way away. The biggest drawback was finding a source of helium to replace the dangerous hydrogen. The only one I knew of was in what was to become Texas.
Hydrogen could be used, but it was extremely dangerous if not handled correctly. We would have to develop a lightweight internal combustion engine before developing lighter than air transport. There would be a long wait.
The army had developed a steam-driven tank corps. I didn't have much hope for them except on a set-piece battlefield. They were rattling, clanking monsters that broke down every five miles. I only let them be put into service to allow a battlefield doctrine to be developed. We would need it when we developed the diesel engine.
Tom and I had many arguments over the usefulness of these monsters. He envisioned them leading our troops to victory across Europe. I envisioned them broken down or mired in mud.
He pushed his people into building more reliable machines. This practice did help with our overall manufacturing program, as tighter tolerances helped us all the way around.
We also had a "state department", which was charged with diplomatic relations with the other countries in our orbit. Their staff was chosen from the ranks of officers who had served in those countries. I wouldn't have a group of new students decide my foreign policy.
That has always caused problems in the US government. As a former military officer, I knew I was biased, but I'd had to clean up too many of their failed policies.
I also kept a tight rein on any CIA off-the-books wars under my watch. Those were other messes I had to help clean up.
It was a grand and glorious day when I opened our new postal service's first post office. We now had enough educated people to make smooth white paper so that people could send letters to each other.
My picture was on the one penny stamp, the most common usage. Eleanor is on the highest-value stamp. Hers was a one silver stamp which could mail a twenty-pound parcel. We hadn't set a weight limit on what could be shipped, but I clarified that no drunks could be mailed home.
Chapter 2
In addition to carrying out my self-appointed duties, I went through another exercise that I seemed to do every year.
I asked myself, Why am I here, and how did I get here?
By here, I mean in the body of a young baron in eighth-century Cornwall. I know I died in my sleep and woke up here, but some mechanism had to make the transfer.
Was it God? I'm not even certain I ever believed in God, so why me? Was it a random chance thing in this universe? I had read a little about what Einstein called spooky action at a distance or quantum mechanics. If so, what triggered it?
Being here with my knowledge appeared to be more than a random chance. If it wasn't random chance, then there was a reason I was here. Why wasn't I made aware of the reason?
I had to be in an alternate reality or what would be an alternate reality to my beginning point in the future. That had to be true, whether triggered by God or random chance. I was reluctant to think it was a random chance because of my background and the knowledge I carried in my head.
Even that might not be true. Maybe many thousands or millions of other people died and were awakened to this reality. Most would have failed to survive their first day on this path.
It was a brute force method, but the keyword was a method. That ruled out random chance, or at least I thought it did.
I prayed to the God I didn't believe in and wasn't surprised when I didn't get an answer. Maybe he or she didn't believe in me.
I couldn't think of any experiments I could run to prove either point. Even if I could prove it was God or chance, what good would it do? I was here and had to make the best of it as I could. I was the one defining the best of it.
If it were random chance, it would explain why I didn't have an overriding direction. If it was God, why could I do what I wanted? I know about free will and all that, but this was taking it to an extreme.
As with every other year, I couldn't arrive at any answers or even a theory that would hold water. I could only live on my terms and let it play out.
If it was random chance, I was left with all I could do was live my life. If it were God, all I could do was live my life.
I reach this conclusion every year. Maybe I could let it go next year and just live my life.
After my annual bout of introspection, I got back to work.
I wanted a mindless enterprise to clear my head, so I called my team of scribes together and started dictating every book I had ever read about light bulbs and vacuum tubes. There weren't very many.
Once the books had been transcribed and the paper copies turned over to the print shop, I went to our new engineering school and spoke to the dean.
I needed to assemble a team for the tube and bulb project. I asked the dean for recommendations for team members. I told him they had to be familiar with electricity and glass making.
The dean came up with a list of five students. She had three people who concentrated on electricity and two glass experts.
The glass people came from families specializing in making glass and majored in the subject. The electricians were the highest ranked in their class on the subject.
I quizzed her about the different team members that she had submitted. They may be experts in their field but had to learn to work together as a team.
After discussing the various team members, we decided that one of the electricians had too much ego to integrate into the team. The next person on her list was knowledgeable and considered easy-going, so we went with him.
The proposed team members were invited to a meeting at the Keep. I wanted to see how they interacted, and I had them set up in a separate room. The reception room had nice furniture and was provisioned with plenty of snacks and various drinks.
Once they were assembled at the correct time, I had word sent that I would be an hour late and for them to go ahead and enjoy the drinks and snacks comfortably.
Being the rotten person I am, I had two people listening and watching them through peepholes.
It didn't take long for things to sort themselves out. These were all guys, so there was no sexual interplay.
Four of them gathered refreshments and talked about what the subject of this meeting was about.
The fifth guy, a glassmaker, decided to take advantage of the free food and drink, especially the drink. He also began picking on the youngest man present, saying that his being there was an obvious mistake.
We had two people waiting in the wings without knowing they would replace any who failed our little test. I had both of them sent in to join the group and had the drinker pulled out for a brief meeting. His meeting was brief. He was handed ten silver and thanked for his time.
I followed him out of the building, where he promptly went to the nearest sports Tav and spent his ten silver on more drinks.
The two new members of the team, a glassmaker and an electrician, settled in nicely with the group and waited for my arrival.
Giving them another half an hour with nothing going amiss, I entered the room and explained what I wanted from them.
The financial achievements of previous successful teams were well known, so you could feel the excitement in the room when I announced their opportunity.
Their first assignment was to review the books I had dictated. They were then to devise a working plan to include a budget, the infrastructure required, and a timeline.
I assured them that none of their original projections would work out, but they needed to start somewhere. I also informed them what their starting salaries would be so they could plug that into the budget. They were a happy crew who departed my conference room to start to work.
I had to chuckle; in their initial excitement, they hadn't determined where to hold their first meetings. Since they had all split up to let their families know their good news, it would be interesting to see who would take things under control and be the team leader.
Another item that had to be taken care of was the drunk. The drunk would realize why he had been kicked off the team. He could go either way. He could sober up and go straight or drink himself to death and cause problems for everyone along the way.
He had talent, so I decided to try to save him. I had Baroness Agnes' people approach him with his parents' support. They put him in a rehab group. This group wasn't a voluntary one. It was like being in prison until you dried out.
After that, he would be counseled and exercised to get himself into shape. He would be offered a job in Arette, which could always use a technical person if he got through that. This move would put him far from the bulb team to avoid problems.
I knew that the bulb team would make good progress to a point. The team would have no problem manually creating bulbs by blowing them into a molten bulb of flint glass.
We could use carbon filaments made from bamboo and could make the bottom portion as an Edison screw. Assembling one bulb and drawing a vacuum with a special pump would be a chore with many failures, but it could be done.
These would be handmade light bulbs with a life expectancy of one thousand hours, which would be proof of concept. The issues would arise when they tried to mass-produce bulbs. It would be interesting to watch how they proceeded. I figured introducing the light bulb for daily use would take five or more years.
While my soul-searching and team-building continued, my life as a leader of a burgeoning power continued.
In Spain, the Moors finally woke up to the fact that we were in Gibraltar to stay and took umbrage at our possession of the rock.
While Gibraltar had always been a landmark, it had never been a fortified position that could block the Mediterranean from the Atlantic. Our cannons changed the equation.
The Moors kept attacking our positions at the base of the rock, but we had built solid walls that couldn't be tipped over and had plenty of cannon embrasures. With watch towers and balloons, we always had warnings that the enemy was approaching, so we had forces in place to defend.
With telescopes and the rock's elevated position, they couldn't even sneak up on us overnight.
I had my general staff planning an invasion of Hispaniola. Spain, in this world, had not been unified yet. We would have to fight five different groups to control the country I thought of as Spain.
Aragon, Catalonia, Navarre. Asturias Leon, and Al Andalus. I hadn't made up my mind about the Balearic Islands yet.
We might get lucky, and the first four on my list that comprised the northern portion of Spain would join together, and we could fight them all at once. The Visigoths didn't have a history of cooperation, so I didn't get my hopes up.
The first decision that had to be made was the invasion route. There were passes through the Pyrenees that could be used, but I was reluctant to go through Basque territory without their cooperation. Thus, the first item on the list was to send a delegation to the Basque to see if they would let us through their territory and what the price would be.
If they said no or the price was too high (like our weapons), our invasion would be by sea, opening up a whole can of worms. With the Moorish invasion, which was going on, it would be complex.
This complexity would especially be true when we got to Al Andalus. We might be fighting the Visigoths one day and then fighting beside them against the Moors the next.
If we invaded by sea, the best port to use would be the harbor of what would be Santander. The area was an extension of the Basque territory, but they would have to live with it. Since it wasn't as mountainous, we could fight them.
Portugal hadn't emerged as a separate political identity. Normally, it would take another two hundred years to settle out. I didn't intend to let the separation between it and Spain develop.
One, I didn't want the headache of another country to rule, and two, the minerals in Portugal were plentiful. At the same time, they had no iron, coal, or aluminum. They did have tin, tungsten, copper, and even gold. Uranium was also to be found there, but I hoped it would be a long time before we needed that.
My generals recommended a two-prong approach. Start negotiations with the Basques and develop a presence in Santander.
That made sense to me, so we contacted the Basques, and our trading ships started calling on Santander. We didn't take long to negotiate with Catalonia to buy land for a trading post. Since we weren't Greek, the Catalonia leaders weren't wary of us bearing gifts.
We kept our prices low and paid high bribes, so there were no objections as we volunteered to improve the harbor so larger ships could call. With a better harbor, it made sense that we bought more land and erected warehouses.
Since it was a nice climate compared to Cornwall, several mansions were built by some of our prominent families to make things look less suspicious. As I say, beware of Cornish men bearing gifts.
Chapter 3
We had set up trading posts along our border with the Gauls. We expanded on that concept by allowing them to sell goods at the trading post. In effect, we now had markets in place of our stores.
Our merchants had to pay a small fee to set up a wooden stall in the main marketplace. They were also allowed to sell in an open field adjacent to the market using blankets on the ground with no fees.
The market was created to encourage all of the Gauls to feel free to join us. An unintended consequence was that not only poor families used the free space, but widows and orphans took advantage of this opportunity.
In turn, we took the opportunity to provide health care for everyone who showed up. Not only that, but a school was also started to teach elementary reading, writing, and mathematics for free to any who wanted to stay longer. Naturally, it was our language that was taught.
That was easier than we had feared since we discovered that the Gauls were ethnically and linguistically similar to Cornishmen and could communicate on a basic level without additional language instruction.
Our teachers were on the lookout for fast learners and natural leaders. These were given discreet support by providing them with a mentor. The mentors were mostly our soldiers along the border who wanted to pick up some extra money for providing advice to the ones who would be the future local leaders of the Gauls tribes.
We kept a close eye on the mentors. Any abuse was quickly and forcibly stopped. We didn't want to alienate this group of future leaders. The idea behind this program was the same as the Green Berets of my time. We wanted to win their hearts and minds.
We had one huge advantage: no VCs or their local equivalent were trying to sabotage our efforts. Unlike the Peace Corps, we didn't do things for them; we taught them, and it was their choice if they wanted to use the knowledge.
We called the fast learners and the potential leaders the Future Ones. This term was used only in our internal meetings.
This group was taught the basics of math and literacy and how to keep a village or farm clean. These demonstrations included showing them microbes with a microscope and why a sewage system and cleanliness were necessary.
If they requested, their mentor would accompany them to their homes to help them identify what they needed to do and how to do it. Again, we weren't doing it for them, just showing them what they had to do. We wanted a stronger Gaul, but stronger on our terms. If they could pull themselves up by their bootstraps, they wouldn't look at us with envious eyes.
It didn't take us long to realize that our mentors had to have schooling on building a septic system and/or improving food storage.
The next thing you know, we were using the mentoring system to identify our future leaders in the military. So not only were courses included in our mentoring schools on improving Gaul's infrastructure, but now there were leadership classes.
We didn't have a mentor school at every marketplace. These were held at each Keep along the border. As our need for mentors grew, we increased class size and frequency until the schools became a permanent fixture, and attendance was required for advancement in the armed services. We now had NCO schools!
The teaching of mentors and the Future Ones worked so well that we instituted them along our borders and in every one of our territories. This teaching was even offered to Iceland, who accepted gladly. They had seen what we had achieved in their many trading missions with us and wanted the same.
Berets weren't a known headwear, but anyone who passed the mentoring school was given a green flash to wear on their right shoulder. This patch was the first of the specialties that formed what we called uptime, the Tower of Power.
I had mentioned that the mentors mostly came from our armed forces. Some of them were civilians. We welcomed anyone who could pass our basic literacy tests and an interview about their suitability to be a mentor.
There weren't many of these, but they were fast-tracked on project teams and local planning groups. The military was requiring their NCOs to attend and pass the mentoring school. We soon had a class of jobs of preferred civilians who passed the courses.
Without advertising our program, the general population caught on to this program. It soon became a competition for admittance to the schools.
This competition concerned me as the political types soon pressured me to have their recommendation given preference on admission. I came down heavy on this practice. Even local headmen and barons were charging the prospective students for their recommendation.
Two hangings stopped that practice.
I only reviewed the high-level concepts of the mentoring program and the mentoring schools. They were the product of my local leaders. This turn of events was thrilling as we had the beginnings of a meritocracy. I wasn't foolish enough to think it would be a pure system, but anything was better than inherited power, except for my children.
The army was the first to adopt the mentoring program, which was now renamed the NCO school. The Navy and Air Force weren't far behind. For the Navy, it was more of a true NCO school as they didn't have many opportunities for local mentoring.
The Air Force, still comprised of observation balloons, taught their future NCOs and gave balloon ascensions to the locals along whichever border they were assigned. These ascensions didn't do much in creating infrastructure but went a long way in convincing people they would have difficulty fighting us. The balloon people were wise enough to stack the deck. They only took up their students on the clearest and calmest days to demonstrate how far one could see with a telescope.
At five hundred feet with no mountains or hills in the way, one could see twenty-six miles with the naked eye. They had tripod-mounted thirty-six power telescopes in the balloons, so it was easy to impress the students. An ascension even impressed me with the equipment they were using.
On an ascension I made from one of the border keeps, I spied a field covered with yellow flowers so thick it appeared to be painted a rich yellow from a distance. A few questions led to the discovery that this was rapeseed, which was generally regarded as a weed in my domains because its oil and seed meal were considered inedible.
Botany and nutritional science had not been an area of concentration for me, but I remembered two things about rapeseed oil that gave me pause. One was that it could be used both as a lubricant and as a fuel, both for engines and for lamps. The other was that by reducing via selective breeding the proportion of oil and seed that were contaminated with erucic acid, it could be made edible both by people and by livestock! It had been marketed as "canola oil".
Even better, it thrived in northern Europe and Britain and made a good winter cover crop for a spring harvest. It could provide a concentrated fuel for lamps and steam engines right now, for diesel in the near future, and also serve as a lubricant, and one of these days might be a useful cooking oil and seed meal livestock feed.
Of immediate utility, it made a stable and efficient fuel for hot air balloons so that we could dispense with the difficult-to-produce hydrogen and the impossible-to-find helium!
During all this, some actions were happening on the home front. I didn't pay a whole lot of attention when Eleanor asked me a few questions about the women's clothes referred to in some of the romances I had dictated.
I didn't pay attention at first, anyway. The second time my wife asked, I wondered what was going on. The third time, I knew there was something afoot.
I found out soon enough when mother and daughter appeared in my office. Both were wearing the cutest sun dresses. I told them they could have come straight out of one of the fashion magazines I had read while waiting in many a doctor's office or at Dorry's bedside in her last illness.
Eleanor wore a white dress with a pattern of red roses. Cathy's was yellow with daisies. The most astonishing thing was they were made out of cotton!
I stuttered a bit. I was torn between complimenting the dresses and their looks and asking them where the material came from.
Luckily for me, the compliments came out first.
"You both look wonderful in those dresses. They are identical to what a woman would wear in the summer in my time. The dresses are almost as beautiful as the ones wearing them."
That earned me large smiles and a curtsey from both ladies.
"Where did you get the material? The only source of cotton that I know of is Egypt."
Eleanor answered, "A Byzantine trading ship brought the cotton. I was fortunate enough to be at the docks while it was being unloaded. I was curious about the material, and when I examined the weave, I knew it was the material referred to in some of the romances.
"I bought all the bolts of material and had these dresses cut from a pattern you helped me with."
"I knew something was up when you asked about the cut of sun dresses in romances. I never thought that you might be able to get cotton fabric."
"This fabric is delightful. It isn't as heavy as wool, so it will be cooler in the summer. It isn't as rough as linen, so it is more comfortable. I'm having underclothes made using this miracle cotton fabric."
Cathy piped up, "Mother will make a fortune selling the rest of the cotton she bought."
"How much did you buy?"
"A thousand bolts that are two yards wide and ten yards long. I expect to get ten gold a bolt."
"That is a lot of money."
Eleanor continued, "I told the captain of the trading ship that I would buy all that he could bring me. I had to pay two gold a bolt for these but negotiated the full load down to one and a half gold per bolt."
"Good work, my dear," I praised her.
"Thank you. Now, what about these fashion magazines you mentioned?"
Dang, I knew I was in trouble as soon as the words came out of my mouth. I had hoped she had forgotten.
I gave in to the inevitable and told her about fashion magazines. I did keep it to fashions and descriptions of what was in style. I didn't want to read articles on improving your love life. Or how to cope when your boyfriend dumped you, or how to dump that inconvenient boyfriend.
I had to promise that I would dictate some of those magazines. That gave me a headache thinking about it. How would I dictate drawings? I could do an engineering draft easily. Fashion plates, not so much.
When I explained that difficulty after tearing up fifty different attempts, an artist was assigned to me, I would roughly explain the dress and its particular function, such as daily wear, cocktails, professional, and the hundred other types of dresses women wore.
I learned to regret mentioning cocktails as I soon had to give out the recipes for dozens of drinks. Then, to top it all off, I used the term cocktail party in the presence of Eleanor. We had a cocktail party and hors d'oeuvres almost every Saturday evening while I was at the Keep.
These hors d'oeuvres included appetizers like meatballs, deviled eggs, pinwheels, and pigs in a blanket.
I thought I had escaped pigs in a blanket forever. I hated those things. The only things worse at the cocktail parties were the inane conversations or the attempts to lobby me on various projects that would benefit the lobbyist. Someone never brought up a project that would benefit all in the land rather than their interests.
I took to disappearing halfway through these events. After an almost terse conversation with Eleanor, she saw my point and eased up on the party frequency. Still, it was a horrid three months until she reduced the parties to once a month.
I thought I was home free until the invitations started coming in for parties at other houses and Keeps. A reporter had been invited to one of our parties. Accidentally, I'm certain.
The next news issue contained a detailed description of the party. The food, the drink, and the ladies' apparel were included, not only the attendees.
Since our newspaper had a worldwide distribution, well within our zone of influence at least, I could see the Byzantine Emperor having to introduce cocktail parties to his court. That alone would be enough reason for him to declare war on us.
At the same time, I had to chuckle at the thought of the Mongols getting a copy. That could set off a world war.
Chapter 4
The new fashions took our countries by storm. Every woman with any ambition wanted one of the dresses in the new fabric.
The bolts that Eleanor had bought had to be rationed as some women wanted to buy dozens of them. Eleanor knew this would create a class war, making the baron's fights look like child's play.
Nothing was worse than a bunch of women fighting over a bolt of cloth. I remember Black Fridays and George Washington Birthday Day sales from uptime. Staid women who would never do anything out of line devolved into hair-pulling harridans. It was awesome and revolting at the same time.
There weren't enough bolts for every woman to have one. Eleanor solved this using elementary arithmetic. She had a scribe examine how many women were in each census area. It worked out that we had about five hundred thousand women in our territories and other allies.
She held a lottery in each area. Ten thousand bolts and five hundred thousand women worked out to one in fifty women getting a bolt in the lottery she held in each area.
These lotteries were big deals. The drawings were broadcast over the radio stations. The local troops guarded the bolts. The drawings were as secure as the acting award's uptime. No one could fix the well-guarded bowls with all the women's names and addresses.
Even so, there were lawsuits after the drawings by other women with the same names. These were given short shrift in the local courts.
Once the bolts were distributed, another problem arose. What type of dress to make was the big question, and where could they get a pattern to follow?
Eleanor and her staff had thought this through. They had a catalog of the different dress styles and a description of the occasion for which the dress should be worn, the time of year it was seasonable, and what designs worked with each dress.
Explanations about vertical and horizontal stripes and floral design sizes were included.
The catalog listed what pattern should be ordered to cut the fabric correctly with each type of dress. Explanations of dress sizes and how to measure them were included.
Dress sizes led to many wails of anguish as some realized they wore small sizes. In our world at this time, a size twelve was considered perfect. Their friends pitied those poor ladies who wore a size eight or lower. The poor people's chances of a good marriage were lessened.
Eleanor and I didn't need the money, so she donated all the funds from the catalog and patterns to various charities. These charities were listed in the catalog, and people could check where they wanted their money sent.
It was an excellent public relations move on Eleanor's part. She made a fortune off the bolts of fabrics but improved her image with the lottery and donations to charity. No one ever questioned the hundred bolts she reserved for the ladies of the Keep.
A much more serious event happened while all this nonsense was going on.
We received a radio report from our base at the mouth of the Niger River. There was an outbreak of a devastating disease. From the symptoms described, it was either Ebola, Marburg, or some other hemorrhagic fever.
An exploration party from upstream returned to the settlement. Within two weeks, the first symptoms were reported in the settlement. These were fever, muscle pain, headaches, and sore throats.
Shortly after that, people developed vomiting, diarrhea, rashes, and decreased kidney function. Next, people started to bleed externally. From the bruising being reported, there was also internal bleeding.
The settlement had four hundred and fifty people. Of that, over two hundred died. Those who recovered were weakened for a long time, some for the rest of their lives.
From start to finish, the fever ran its course twelve days after the first symptoms were noted. It was terrible being thousands of miles away and unable to do anything but recommend keeping the patients hydrated as much as possible.
There were IV kits to pump fluids, but we never expected to need so many. The hospital ran out on the second day. All they could do was get the patients to drink the boiled water or twist a wet rag over their lips.
The worst thing for me was knowing the disease family and not being able to do anything about it. Even uptime, it wasn't easy to control.
We sent medical help with hundreds of IV kits, but it was too late. What was sad were the last messages sent from those who had contracted the disease.
We instituted a quarantine procedure for those who went out of the settlement to explore. It worked as there was never a problem again, but once more, I should have foreseen this event.
We even moved the settlement away from the riverbank. Of course, the docks and associated warehouse had to be left alone, but housing was moved to higher dry ground.
We also made DDT since we could produce chlorobenzene from our petroleum distillates. We used this liberally around our settlement at the docks and the housing.
I know all about the dangers of DDT but felt that since we wouldn't be using as much on the scale that uptime agriculture had, the risks were worth it.
I didn't want my people to die from something I could have prevented. When it came down to it, I think Ben Franklin had selected the right bird. I thought I was being funny with that thought but quickly realized it was not a laughing matter.
We would use DDT but work on other methods of mosquito control. We drained and filled low areas where water could gather to prevent the creation of mosquito breeding grounds.
Those terrible twelve days of our people suffering and dying were broadcast on public radio. I had to decide if I wanted the whole event kept secret or to let the whole world know what was happening.
An event of this magnitude could never be kept quiet for long, so on day one, I let the colony's broadcast go wide. My advisors recommended against it, but I had seen what the result of a coverup could lead to.
If you were looking for ratings, this event recorded the highest ever. We allowed the colony's broadcasts to be shared over the open air and added our responses and actions to the program.
Archbishop Luke ordered extra masses at all churches. He wasn't trying to boost his attendance; he genuinely believed the prayer would help.
The news people interviewed relatives of those in Africa. Some were angry, but most were hopeful. Each day, the death toll was announced along with the deceased names. To say it was a grim time was putting it mildly.
I was castigated in op-eds for allowing this to happen. Other editorials defended me. If my position were elected, my seat would have been in jeopardy during the next elections.
After the fever had burnt out, I ordered a cenotaph to be erected in the colony with the names of all who died engraved on the front. On the back were the names of those who had fought the disease, with an asterisk denoting those whose health was permanently damaged.
I started a fund to support those who couldn't work anymore. My people also contributed. The fund grew so large we had to make it a common disaster fund; otherwise, people would have lived far beyond their previous standard of living.
Eleanor told me I had to leave town a month after things settled down. I hadn't slept regularly for weeks, and my body showed it.
I rode with my escort to the silver mine at the base of Mt. Brunwenely. It was remote enough for me to relax without people coming to me in the street to voice their opinions.
My excuse was that I hadn't visited the mine in some time. The mine didn't need a visit from me, but I needed a reason to get away. It was going to take us three days to get there. I could have taken the train that now ran to the mine, but I wanted to take my time and relax.
The trip wasn't exactly roughing it. My tent was also a mobile headquarters with a separate bedroom, living area, and conference room. Another tent contained our radio communications.
I would never be allowed out alone or without contact with the world again. I was okay with that as long as every little problem wasn't brought to me. My staff was good, and I hadn't had a message in three days.
The silver mine knew we were coming, so they cleaned the place. That meant there were no tailings lying around to trip over. The mine was still a strip mine as the ore vein was clustered near the surface.
Test drillings had been made so they knew the ore-bearing silver continued for over a mile. Estimates were that the vein was over fifty yards thick. That was a lot of silver.
I was shown around the area, and at the end of the day, I congratulated all on a job well done and encouraged them to keep up the good work. As I said, the visit was an excuse to escape the aftermath of the African disaster.
I realized that I'm not God and couldn't make it a perfect world. Still, I was bothered by the loss of life when it might have been prevented. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say.
They even said it now in this time period. Our eyeglasses were still selling well in our marketplaces. I may have used the term once or twice and now it was in common usage.
We started back early one morning. I wanted to prolong this trip as much as possible, so I still didn't take the train. No new emergencies were reported, so I didn't have to feel guilty about taking my time.
The second evening on the trip home, I was eating dinner at our campfire when I noticed movement near my feet.
At first, I couldn't figure out what type of animal it was. Once I had it in focus, I realized it was an Irish wolfhound pup.
Its fur was all matted as though it hadn't been cared for in a long time, if ever. It was small and was nothing but skin and bones. You could count its ribs.
It crawled to me subserviently and wagged its tail while licking its chops. The poor thing was near starvation. I threw a small piece of the roast boar from our dinner this evening.
To say it wolfed it down would be an understatement. As it ate, I got a better look at the dog. The pup was all male. He couldn't have been over several months old, just past being weaned.
How he got here was beyond me. It looked like a purebred, and they were worth a lot of money. How it ended up in the middle of nowhere was anyone's guess.
It continued to beg for food, and I fed him one small slice at a time. One of my men brought over a dish of water, which the pup promptly lapped dry. This dog would have died in a few days if we hadn't come along.
When I finished, I let him lick my plate clean. He then flopped down on his belly and went to sleep. One of my men commented that I now had a dog.
I laughed at that and told him I never had a dog before. We had hunting dogs in the kennels at the Keep and two old, retired war dogs, but none of them were pets.
"My lord, that may be, but now you have a dog."
I didn't know what to think of that. The last dog I had was when I was a kid on a farm in Ohio. The army being moved from country to country wasn't conducive to having pets.
When I retired to my tent, the dog followed me. I guess I have a dog.
Chapter 5
We received a message that a group of traders from Muscovy had arrived. We hadn't had any contact with these proto-Russians, so I was anxious to return to Owen-nap, my home and capital in Cornwall.
That was easily done as we followed the railroad tracks back to Bodmin. My men set out torpedoes on the tracks to have the train stop. These small packages of mercury nitrate would explode when the train ran over them.
They were not strong enough to cause any damage, but they were loud. Four of them in a row, a quarter mile apart, would wake up any engineer and signal them to stop. They were developed to warn of such events as bridge out ahead, but they served my purpose well.
We were waiting for it when the train stopped after slowing down for two miles. We knew its normal speed and could guess where it would stop. My people were so confident that they started a betting pool. Each person in the pool drove a stake near the tracks where they thought the train would stop. No stake could be within ten yards of another. Forty stakes covered four hundred yards.
They were very confident about where the train would stop. From the locations, you could tell they thought the engineer would hit the brakes at the first sound.
From my misspent youth in Ohio, I knew the engineer would wait until the second small explosion before taking action. Not that I ever put torpedoes on the tracks! Well, never more than one. We wanted to wake the engineer up, not stop the train.
Because of this ill-gotten knowledge, I put my stake four hundred yards further down the track. Sheer luck had the boogie wheels of the engine across from my stake.
While we had been gathering our gear to depart our camp, I had a shadow. My new pet dog was on my heels constantly. He knew who was feeding him!
At first, while he wanted to be near me, he was shy about me touching him. When we got ready to move, that changed. Clinging would be a good word.
When it was time to board the stopped train, the dog let me pick him up and carry him aboard the one-passenger car. Most of my troops had to ride on flat cars that had goods on them.
Now, I was faced with the decision of letting the train go forward to the silver mine or start backing up to Bodmin. I decided to back up. I wanted to get to Owen-nap as soon as possible.
There were only a dozen passengers in my car. After apologizing, I found out that no apology was needed. These were mine workers returning after a three-day leave. They were all tired and hung over. Since they were all scheduled to work immediately after arriving, they welcomed the additional time to recover.
I had been ready to give them silver in compensation for the delay. Now, it seemed they should be paying me.
Dog and I settled in for the trip to Bodmin. He sat at my feet. More accurately, he sat on my feet. He wasn't going to let me get away.
The trip to Bodmin was only four hours. It would have taken us two more days on horseback. I had left a party of ten to bring the horses back to Owen-nap.
The train didn't have room for the horses or facilities to load them. They would be taken to Bodmin, where they would be loaded on one of the box cars labeled 40 and 8. I whimsically had all our box cars labeled that way. The French had that stenciled on all their box cars in World War I. It stood for forty men or eight horses.
After the war, veterans formed 40 and 8 social lodges in remembrance of their crowded trips. 38 and 8 would have been more accurate, but the French must have thought that wasn't poetic enough. It was a shame the French language would never develop due to my changes. They may have been snooty about it, but it flowed off the tongue. That is, if you could pronounce it correctly.
My father-in-law in uptime was a Marine with the Marine Brigade of the 2nd Infantry Division in France in WWI and belonged to the 40&8 group in our hometown. They had a mockup of a boxcar that they used as a parade float. He suggested it might have been a good idea to have a few of those 40 hommes clean up after those 8 chevaux before his outfit boarded.
I couldn't. I made many a Frenchman wince at my attempts.
Changing trains at Bodmin, we proceeded to Owen-nap while a much-recovered group of silver miners were left on board the train for their journey back to the silver mine. A fresh train crew took over the engine and was working up steam as we boarded my special train waiting for me in Bodmin. I had radioed ahead and ordered it to meet me in Bodmin.
The silver miners thought they would get another evening of leave in Bodmin, but I knew that wouldn't end well, so I arranged for them to start their journey back to the mines immediately. I probably lost much of the goodwill that had been generated by the extra delay in their return to camp, but so be it.
It was a tired, stinky crew that arrived in Owen-nap. And my dog went straight to the kennels. The kennel master hadn't retired for the night, so I instructed him to clean up the pup and bring him to me the next morning. The pup was a mess; his fur was matted and thick with nettles, and I knew he had fleas because he generously shared them with me. There was probably a tick or two in the mix.
I needed a name for the pup. Also, I couldn't keep calling him a pup. It wouldn't be that long before he would be taller than me when he put his paws on my shoulders.
The kennel master and I talked about a program to house-train him. I knew what Eleanor would have to say about dog poop in our living quarters. When he was full-grown, it would be a big pile of poop!
One of the kennel boys would take him out after every mile and every hour in between. He would be exercised near the kennel so he could meet other dogs to socialize him and give him a lot of smells he could mark over.
I took a shower and crawled into bed with a sleepy Eleanor. We kissed briefly and then went right to sleep.
In the morning, I woke up to two children climbing all over me. They were glad I was home. Their mom sent them downstairs to pester the cook into giving them an early breakfast. Most likely sweet rolls and juice.
Eleanor and I performed our morning rituals and joined the kids for breakfast. As I predicted, the kids had sweets but were still hungry. I was always amazed at how much they could eat, but then they ran all day long.
While working on my second cup of coffee, I saw the kennel master across the room. I gave him a hand motion, and he either had read my mind or decided on his own what action to take.
A grey lightning bolt rushed across the room and jumped onto my lap. I almost spilled my coffee.
Pup was licking my face. The kids were taken aback at first, then wanted to pet him. He allowed it, which surprised me until I realized that our "pack" had a smell that made them acceptable to him.
The dog had been cleaned, and his coat brushed until it shined. He still was scraggly looking with his ribs showing.
The kids oohed and aahed over him. Even Eleanor was welcoming as he licked her face.
Cathy asked, "What's his name, Dad?"
"I haven't named him yet."
"Where did you get him?"
I went on to tell the story of his arrival and adoption.
Doug said, "We should call him Journey."
"Why Journey?" I asked.
"It sounds cool, and the name seems to fit him."
"Journey is it then."
The newly named Journey didn't seem impressed as he put his paws on our table and licked the plates clean. He was going to be a big one.
I explained to Eleanor and the kids that I had arranged with the kennel master to housebreak him.
The kids weren't that impressed, but Eleanor told me my plan was good. Otherwise, I would spend my days cleaning up huge mounds of poop.
It was interesting that not once was it suggested that Journey be relegated to the kennels with the hunting dogs. Journey was a member of our family from the get-go.
I changed the subject with Eleanor.
"What about these traders from Muscovy?"
"They arrived late two days ago. They came on a ship from Jutland. They came in a caravan from Muscovy to come here."
"Who has been talking with them?"
"John Chandler has a man who speaks their language, so he has been hired as our interpreter."
"What did they bring to trade?"
"Furs," she told me.
That answer stopped me for a moment. In my time, the trade in furs had reached a standstill in America and most of Europe due to animal rights activists. Any woman bold enough to wear a real fur coat would soon have it damaged beyond repair by a bucket of paint.
Why these thugs were never jailed was strange, but it was how it was. They paid a small fine for destroying a five-thousand-dollar garment and were free to do it again.
Here and now, that wouldn't be a consideration. I had never seen a woman wearing a fur coat in Cornwall, but I knew that was about to change.
I asked, "Are they still in Saltash?"
"Yes, I didn't want them to see too much until you returned here."
"Okay, I will radio John and have them put on a train with samples of what they offer."
They arrived in Owen-nap soon after lunch. Radio and trains had changed a two-day trip into four or five hours.
The train trip and the sights along the way left them subdued. I don't know what they were expecting, but it wasn't steam tractors plowing huge swathes of land in one go or factories belching smoke.
That reminded me I had to install filtering systems to collect the fly ash. I remembered what Sparrow's Point in Maryland looked like when Bethlehem Steel was working full blast. The tree leaves were red and dying.
I was going to prevent that early on. The fix was easy and didn't cost that much in the scheme of things. I dictated a quick note to one of my aides and turned my attention to the new arrivals.
The interpreter, Thomas Saltash, introduced the merchants. They all had the title of Boyar, which told me they were minor nobility. That or they had promoted themselves. It didn't matter to me.
We went through the normal question-and-answer period. I questioned, and they answered. From there, I asked for samples of what they had brought in trade.
They had fur from foxes, sables, minks, wolves, rabbits, lynx, and wolverines.
I told them we had many red foxes, rabbits, and occasional wolves. Artic fox furs would sell well. Lynx and wolverines would be in demand for distinctive patterns. Mink and sables would be in high demand for their natural beauty.
Then I asked what they wanted in return. They weren't completely sure. They didn't know what we produced. All they knew was that we were reputed to make many magical things and were fabulously wealthy.
I guess we were rich by their standards, and as had been said in my time, anything advanced enough would appear to be magic.
Chapter 6
Since the Muscovites didn't know what we produced, I arranged a tour for them the next morning. It would include everything but weapons manufacturing. We wouldn't hide the weapons from them, but we would not show how they were made.
They were shocked after seeing everything that could be covered in one day. We had wealth beyond their wildest dreams, at least in their worldview, which is why even our lowest serfs lived better than most of their nobles.
I tried to explain that we didn't have serfs. Our people weren't bound to the land. The farmers who worked the land could move about to other areas if desired. Of course, if they had an agreement for many years, they had to honor it.
They were amazed when I told them I was selling the land to the farmers. They couldn't comprehend that a farmer owning the land made him work harder and produce more, yielding more tax revenue.
I finally gave up trying to explain our way of life.
I ended with, "All I can say is look around you. It is working for us."
That was at dinner. The next morning, trading got serious. The Rus wanted mirrors and telescopes. These were small items that had high value.
We didn't have anyone who dealt directly with furs. If our people wanted rabbit fur, they went out and hunted rabbits. I finally had a tanner and seamstress brought in to find mutual value.
I knew that sable and mink were costly in my day. They hadn't been hunted to near extinction here, so they would be worth a little less. The question was how much less.
As I thought of them, the Russians solved the problem for us. They wanted the mirrors and telescopes so badly that they offered two furs per item. According to my two experts, making a coat would take 50 to 60 furs. That would make a mink coat sell for about four thousand silver.
That was expensive but in line with the pricing from uptime that I was aware of.
To test the waters, I had my people ask for four per mirror or telescope. We ended up at three furs per item.
The Russians had brought ten thousand furs to buy a combination of 3300 mirrors or telescopes.
This cargo fit their wagons nicely, so they were delighted with the exchange. From their conversations, they expected to make ten times the value of the fur they had brought. They would be rich if they could reach Muscovy alive.
Eleanor came up with a good idea. We could send them back on one of our schooners, plus provide an armed escort to Kyiv. The escort would have radios with them to keep in contact with us. The idea was to set up a diplomatic mission with the Khagan who headed the Khaganate. I guess they referred to themselves as Rus', where Russia came from. They were ethnically Varangians, a subset of the East Slavs.
That was from my textbooks. They were a new formation and not a country yet. They didn't even have a written language as what they spoke rapidly departed from the south or Polish areas they were migrating from.
The escort I was sending was one hundred men strong. They had orders to set up a headquarters in or near Kyiv and open relations with the Rus'. Follow-up groups would include construction workers building a Keep that the Rus' couldn't take. With this new country forming, several leaders would try to be the local strong man.
It would be a long-term project, but I hoped to conquer the Rus' from within. The Mongols would be knocking on our door soon enough. A strong border here would help. If nothing else, it would direct the Mongols south to Poland, where there would be easier conquest.
Cynical and cruel, maybe, but the Mongolian Hordes were nothing to take lightly. No matter what our weapons were, there were so many of them they could overrun us.
I looked at this as a long-term investment, but who knew?
While thinking about world domination, I had some nicer thoughts closer to home. Before I instituted better health care, the death rates due to accidents and disease were much higher. This death rate left many orphans.
There were so many that they couldn't be absorbed into their relatives if they had any relatives. A crude orphanage system was in place but was only a mild step above a sweatshop. The kids were worked day and night with poor nutrition. It wasn't a death sentence to be committed to an orphanage, but close to it.
I changed that as my power spread. Now, the kids didn't work outside of the orphanage. They raised gardens, did the laundry, and kept the place clean. They received health care and education.
One thing they were lacking was toys and sports equipment. I provided them directly. These toys included everything from baseball equipment to jump ropes, jacks, Cornwall logs (Lincoln logs in my time), and doll babies.
In short everything I could think of that a kid would like to play with.
I couldn't go to every orphanage in person and hand the toys out, but I did select several new ones every year to visit.