by Eric Flint
"What? This is supposed to be a good pump. It cost enough!"
"It is a good pump, or it was. It's just not the right pump for this job. It's not even the right kind of pump. All right, I've seen what I need to. Let's climb back up and go over what has to be done. We'll start by going through the instruction sheets for the equipment in the mill, I think."
Theodor dipped the rag in the shaft again and handed it back to him. "I'll climb right below you, in case you need help on the ladder. I'm very sorry about the fall."
Winkler stalked off down the tunnel.
***
Ilsabe nestled the covered pot into the coals, and scooped more coals onto the lid. "That will do it for now, Mama."
"Good. Why don't you go tell Papa and Stefan when we'll be eating? Peter will be back by then, if I know your brother." She winked.
"All right, Mama."
She walked downhill to the mill and stepped inside. The stranger kneeling on the floor must be the expert Papa was expecting. He was doing something to that machine of Herr Winkler's that had caused so much trouble. There were tools and small parts lying around it.
Papa was saying, "Stefan, his shoulder is hurt. Go help him."
"Don't you want me to finish getting this load under cover before dark, Herr Hartmann?"
"Well…"
"Papa, I can help."
Papa looked over in surprise. "Oh, Ilsabe. I thought you were busy in the kitchen."
"No, most of that is done. Mama sent me to tell you that supper will be ready in about an hour. I can stay and help here if you need me."
"Well, yes, you came at a good time. Ilsabe, this is Herr Jan Willem Bosboom. He's here from the company that made all this electrical machinery. Herr Bosboom, this is my daughter Ilsabe."
The stranger looked up. "I'm pleased to meet you, Fraulein Hartmann."
"Pleased to meet you, Herr Bosboom. What would you like me to do?"
"I need you to pick up one end of this generator while I put a block of wood under it. Then the other end, and I'll prop that side up as well. After that you can take off these nuts and we'll pull it apart."
Papa picked up his grease pot again and went back to the mill machinery.
She knelt down and took a grip. It looked like a lot of iron, but
… "Oh. This isn't as heavy as it looks. If you're quick with the sticks, I can pick it up all at once."
"All right." He put the blocks in place against the side. "Ready."
A second later it was propped up with its ends clear of the floor. He handed her a wrench and gestured with his hand. "You turn the nuts this way to take them off. I'll hold this down. Once that's done, you can slide off the end bells and we'll pull the rotor out."
She looked at the wrench in her hand. It shone like a mirror, and there wasn't a hammer mark on it anywhere-except… "Herr Bosboom, what's this here?"
"That? That's a kudzu leaf. It's the maker's hallmark."
"They must be great craftsmen. This is a beautiful piece of work."
He glanced up at her. "You appreciate fine tools?"
"Naturally. I grew up in this mill."
She turned to the generator, and set the wrench in place on the first nut. She gave it an experimental tug to get the feel, then braced her knee against the side and gave a solid pull. Two minutes later the insides were exposed to view, and she was lifting the pieces one at a time to a cloth spread out on a bench.
Ilsabe watched curiously while Herr Bosboom blew the dust away and started playing his lamp over the parts. She pointed to the wires wound around a stack of thin iron plates. "This looks very carefully made. What do all these pieces do?"
"Well…"
***
Winkler and Dranitz came back to the mill with a handful of thick pamphlets. Gerd came over to the bench to see, with Ilsabe beside him. Bosboom spread out the papers for the generator and the switchboard, and looked up in surprise. "Herr Winkler, these are in Italian! Do you read Italian? Do you, Herr Dranitz?"
"No, but there are plenty of pictures. We just went by those, and the tables."
" Whooh. So, you didn't get any of the cautions and the explanations. That explains a lot. The instruction sheets in German weren't packed with this equipment, obviously. I don't know how that happened, but I'll leave you my copies. But why didn't you just send for the right ones, before doing all this work?"
Winkler flung up his arms. "That would have taken a week or more for the post to go back and forth. I needed to get on with this, so my men could start mining."
"I see. Well, you would have saved a great deal of time, and a lot of money besides, if you'd sent for instruction sheets you and your men could read. Haste makes waste-it certainly has here. While you were gone, I inspected and tested the generator with Fraulein Hartmann's kind help." He nodded to her. "Except for that and a few bits and pieces, there isn't much here that can be saved."
"What! I wrote to the company to send somebody who could get this working, not to be told there is nothing to be done."
Bosboom straightened up and faced Winkler, his hand resting on the open leaflet. His voice went flat. "Herr Winkler, this trip up here is costing my company a day and a half of my time, and if you're being charged for it, I haven't heard about it. My job is to tell you the truth, not wave my hands in the air and magically turn it into something else. So I suggest you start taking detailed notes of this discussion, if you want to accomplish anything.
"Now, then. There's a great deal that can be done. In fact, this can be made to work. The basic idea is right, an electric pump is by far the most practical solution, with so little left of the old pumping machinery, especially everything there was above ground. But the system has to be engineered correctly. The pump company has people who can do that for you, and their consulting rates are reasonable.
"But the worst problem I see from the electrical side is that knob-and-tube wiring you have in the mine. That only belongs inside a dry building. It's dangerous anywhere in a damp tunnel, but you have it running right above open drain channels. Let a discharge line burst, and it's a death trap. Besides that, you have outdoor pole lines, and those don't look like they're up to standard either.
"There are just too many pitfalls here for inexperienced workmen. You need the services of a licensed electrician to direct the rebuilding, otherwise somebody's sure to be killed."
"An electrician? There isn't one within forty miles of here! It would take days to get one, and they charge a fortune! If you're such an expert…"
Bosboom clenched one hand on the edge of the bench.
"Herr Winkler. My employers make a point of maintaining a professional demeanor and sticking to technical matters when speaking with a customer."
"Well, of course!"
He looked unblinking at Winkler for a good two seconds, then growled, "I could make an exception in your case."
" What? What do you mean?"
"You asked for help. I've been patiently explaining what it will take to get the results you want, and make this pumping system safe for you and your men to be around. You stand here brushing aside what I'm telling you, as if a loud voice will change the facts to suit your convenience. It won't. We all had to begin from the beginning, but what seriously disturbs me is your unwillingness to learn when you have the chance. Do you expect to make this work without taking the trouble to get the right equipment and install it properly? For that matter, don't you care at all about the lives of your miners? Or your own life?"
"You expect me to throw money around like water? And take who-knows-how-long to do all this?"
"You don't like the cost of safe wiring? Would you rather pay to restore the old pumping system from before the war, with all the push rods and bell cranks? Would you like to pay to rebuild the dam so you could get power to drive it? No? I didn't think so. I can see the answer on your face."
Winkler was turning red. "Who are you, you young puppy, to talk to the head of an enterprise like this?"
&nb
sp; Bosboom fixed Winkler with an icy glare and slammed his open hand down on the Italian installation manual. "Who am I, Herr Winkler? The examiners at Leiden consider me a civil engineer. Mr. Reardon is satisfied that I know enough about electricity to give sound advice to his customers. I'm the man who can tell you how to keep from walking into a worse disaster than the one you've already suffered. The Lord protect your men! What you have here would never have been built in any of the mines around Grantville. If the state inspectors didn't stop it, the UMWA would."
"Now what are you saying? Are you threatening me with the UMWA?"
"Oh, be serious! The UMWA isn't so foolish as to rely on companies or their representatives to tell them about dangerous mines. Now if you're through trying to bully us into rebuilding this whole thing without charging for it, you can start taking notes, and we'll discuss practical action to get your mine pumped out without killing anyone."
***
Winkler went growling and sputtering back to his office with his papers and notes.
Gerd watched the engineer for a minute as he started packing up his tools, still working one-handed. Finally he said, "Herr Bosboom, I don't think I've ever heard a speech like that one. Certainly not to old Winkler."
"I hope I did right. I hope I got through to him."
"What was it that made you so upset?"
"Herr Hartmann, I've seen the consequences of refusing to face facts." He shuddered.
"When I was nine years old, I wanted to see what my uncle Hannes did. One day he let me come with him to a job site, where'd just been engaged as the supervising engineer. You can imagine what a treat that was for me. A canal lock was to be repaired and enlarged, so bigger barges could go through. When we arrived that morning, it had been all pumped out, and the masons were ready to go in and examine the wall.
"Uncle Hannes took a good look around, as he always does. Then he went over by the gate, and looked closer. You know how wood will start to take up a bend, when it's been under too much load for too long? Well, the top beam looked like that. He dug his knife into it, and it went in much too easily. The steward was there, representing the owners. Uncle Hannes stood up and shouted to him that the gate was rotten and not safe. He said it needed to be replaced before anybody could go into the lock with water on the other side of the gate. The simplest way would have been to block the canal with a temporary dam of rocks and dirt.
"But the steward wouldn't hear of it. He answered that the gate had held for forty years, and sent the men in.
"No more than two hours later, it broke open right in front of us. It all happened in a few seconds. Men ran for the walls and tried to ride the rush of water. All of us on the bank grabbed ropes, boards, whatever was within reach, and pulled men out, or just held them up until others could help. But there were two that nobody could find in time, with all the debris and muddy water in that lock.
"So, I broke a company rule just now. Deliberately. I couldn't just ignore a fatal accident waiting to happen, and not try my best to stop it. I wouldn't want that on my conscience. And nobody in the company wants a reputation for making things that kill people."
Gerd was silent again, thinking. He cupped his chin in his hand.
"Herr Bosboom, if I understand the lesson in all this, it's that I can't afford to allow this generator here unless I know enough about it to make it safe. I have to control what's in my mill."
Bosboom nodded his head. "That's a logical conclusion, for certain. I couldn't agree more."
"But you said other millers own these machines, and they're making money with them?"
"That's right, it's starting to happen. I think within a year there will be a sudden increase in that business. The problems of manufacturing light bulbs at prices people can afford are close to being solved."
"I see. That means we have some important decisions to make here. I'd appreciate a chance to ask you a good many more questions. Would you accept an offer of supper with my family and me, and a place to sleep tonight?"
"That's very kind. I wasn't really looking forward to going back down the road, with evening coming on. Maybe my shoulder will feel better after a night's rest, too. Can you accommodate the mule I rented to get up here?"
"Of course. Wagon drivers sometimes have to stay over."
"Thank you, then."
"Ilsabe, liebchen, go tell Mama we'll have a guest tonight."
***
With a thumping of boots Peter was back from his errand in the village. His eye fastened on the platter of fresh bread in the middle of the table, and Marta's eye fastened just as quickly on him. She reached across with the long wooden spoon in her hand, barring his way. "You'll sit and eat at the table with the rest of us, you wolf cub."
"Mama, I'm starved!"
"Oh, right, I can see your ribs. Papa and the men from the mill will be here in no time. Then we'll all eat. And nobody will starve. Go wash up."
Then Stefan came in, and a minute later Gerd was there with their guest. He seemed a pleasant young man, with a ready smile and an air of intelligence. The cut of his clothes was something like the uniforms the army teamsters wore, but in different colors. His trousers were made of a heavy dark blue fabric with copper rivets at the pocket corners, and he wore a rugged-looking red and black checked shirt. He took off a broad-brimmed hat in a style she hadn't seen before. Someone with tales from far away, perhaps?
"… my wife Marta Seidelin, and our son Peter.
"Marta, a man of virtue stands before us."
She cocked her head, with an expectant half-smile.
"Old Winkler drove him to fury."
"Heh-heh-heh. I can't imagine how that could have happened. So then what?"
"Anyone else might have come out with a curse. Herr Bosboom here pronounced a blessing."
This time it was the guest who showed a half-smile-a puzzled one.
"You did! You prayed for the safety of the miners!"
His hand went over his mouth, and his eyes crinkled. "What? Oh. Yes, I suppose I did."
"And I assume you sincerely wished them well, when you called on the Lord to save them from Winkler's foolishness?"
"Well, of course. I wouldn't want anybody to be electrocuted."
"So, there you are. You pronounced a blessing."
" Pffff! A civil engineer is supposed to do a lot more than just pray."
Marta laughed as she ladled out the soup, and gestured for everyone to sit down. "Well, husband, what's the news?"
"Marta…" He sighed. "We have a problem. It will be weeks before Winkler will be in any position to make use of that generator of his, and even that might be too optimistic. Herr Bosboom says everything has to be rebuilt, and before that can even start, there are other experts Winkler needs to consult. So he won't be paying us to drive it, for as long as that takes."
"Oh, Gerd, we were counting on that money. What do we do now?"
"For now, let's enjoy the food in front of us and our company. We can talk later about how to finish paying the carpenters."
Bosboom asked, "The carpenters?"
"It's no secret. A storm last winter brought down a big tree, right on top of the mill. We were keeping ahead of expenses, until that happened. It's repaired now, and the mill is working again, but it cost a lot. The carpenters have been patient, but they naturally want their money."
"It sounds like a difficult situation. I'm sorry to hear it."
"Well, thank you. Gerd and I really hoped you'd be able to tell Winkler and his foreman what to do to get everything working."
"It's a little too complicated for that, Frau Seidelin," he said with a downcast look. "It involves a lot more than just telling them how to install the equipment my company supplied. That would be hard enough, with what they're trying to do. But there's all the pump and plumbing work to plan over from the beginning, and Herr Winkler seemed to think I could do a mine electrician's job too."
Gerd paused with his spoon in the air. "Mine electrician? There's a trade by t
hat name?"
"Well, in a way. There are some special things to know about wiring in mines. One of Grantville's better-known citizens started out as a mine electrician. I haven't met her, though. She's been away on business since before I came to the company."
Clink! Ilsabe was sitting bolt-upright. The spoon had dropped from her hand. "Herr Bosboom! Did I hear you right? Did you just say that women work in this 'electrician' trade? This trade that Herr Winkler said draws such high wages?"
Marta understood in a flash. "Your dowry. You're thinking of how to earn your dowry."
"Yes, Mama! Instead of some dull job in service somewhere, struggling to save anything at all, maybe I could have a real trade? Herr Bosboom, is that what this means?"
"Well, if you decide that's what you want to do, I'd say it's a real possibility. You're quick enough with unfamiliar tools. If you can do as well with book learning, you could get accepted into an electrical apprenticeship program easily enough. The up-timers are absolutely desperate to train enough of them."
"And because of that, they accept girls?" Marta asked.
"That would be logical enough, but it's not the reason. They had an equal opportunity law before they were ever flung into our midst, and they declared it still in effect before the guilds knew what was going on. Anybody who can show a record book with the required experience can sit for the state examination for journeyman or master, and get the license. A licensed electrician can work anywhere in Thuringia and Franconia."
"But we're not in their state, up here."
"No, but let me tell you, a customer with any sense will ask to see a Thuringian license."
Marta looked at him pensively. "And it's a respectable trade? A better opportunity for our Ilsabe?"
"Oh, for certain. Hard work sometimes, but your daughter is a big, strong girl." He turned to Ilsabe. "Look, if you're at all serious about this, I'd be happy to write a letter of introduction for you."
"Oh, thank you!" Ilsabe's smile glowed. "I don't know what to say. Yes, I'd like very much to go see what this trade is really like."
