by C. P. Odom
“I have read of steam engines, but I thought them little more than a novelty,” Darcy said.
McDunn nodded eagerly and rose, pacing about the room and waving his hands as he spoke. “They may be novelties now, but they’ll be improved and made more practical. I know in about forty years there will be railroads crisscrossing England.”
Everyone, including Georgiana, looked at him in amazement.
“It’s going to happen whether I do anything about steam locomotives or not. The important thing is that I have knowledge others don’t, so I can produce workable versions in less time. But I have to be careful with my funds to avoid spending them on inventions that’ll require more money than I have. Some careful thought is needed before I go charging off to make my fortune. For one thing, some inventions will have to wait until I have the tools to make a practical version. In my world, it was standard to produce parts that were identical, down to the nearest thousandth of an inch. It allowed for mass production since all the parts were interchangeable as you’ve seen in my pistol. That can’t be done in today’s England.”
“So, does that mean you have the intention to journey to your homeland? To America?”
“Not at all!” McDunn’s denial was instant and forceful. “I said today. What history will someday call the Industrial Revolution will take root and grow to maturity here in England and, to a lesser degree, in continental Europe. England is where I must develop my inventions because the tools here will be many years ahead of anything that could be made currently in the United States.”
He stopped suddenly and gave everyone a broad grin. “Besides, the Siege Perilous sent me to this England of the past rather than some other world. There has to be a reason I didn’t wind up in America—why I woke up on your property. For the first time, I have a hunch that the world in which I would fit is one where I can do meaningful work and produce tools and mechanisms to make the life of everyone much easier and safer. It will allow individuals to do more than they have ever done before.”
He looked at Darcy closely, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to say, but forthrightness seemed the best approach.
“I’m afraid it’s going to result in a scarcity of servants as they take employment that pays more. It will bring about a dramatic change in the way things are and the life you and your family lead. Sorry about that, but it’s going to happen anyway.”
Darcy waved his hand, dismissing the apology. “In fact, it is already happening, for some of the sons of the staff have decided to look for factory jobs in London rather than stay at Pemberley. We shall find ways to make do just as we always have.”
He was silent for a few moments, thinking hard until he came to a decision. “If you are correct about needing every pound, then perhaps I can provide at least some assistance and make Pemberley available to you as a place where you can stay and make your plans. I have a house in town for your use when you have to make arrangements with artisans and mechanics. It will save you the trouble of having to set up an establishment of your own, and we have plenty of room, both here and in London.”
McDunn was stunned by the generosity of this unexpected offer, especially considering the usual reserve of the Darcy that Austen described.
“I am honored beyond words to have you offer such hospitality to a stranger with all the wild stories I’ve related about the world I come from. It is most generous, sir. Most generous. I shall repay you in the future. I pledge I will do so.”
“Nonsense, McDunn! You have whetted my appetite and stimulated my curiosity to a level I did not know possible! I have to see how your endeavors will work out, and the best way is to have you close at hand! You are a wildly different man than I, but it is often said opposites attract!”
“Thank you again from the bottom of my heart. Your kind offer will remove many of the difficulties I would have otherwise had in…acclimating is the word I would use, but the word may not be in use yet. It means to become accustomed to new conditions, and this world of 1809 is much different than mine.”
“I wish it were possible for you to make more of your pistols for myself and my troops, but you have explained all too clearly why it is not possible,” Fitzwilliam said wistfully.
“For your sake, Colonel, I wish I could, but your war with Napoleon will be over in a few years, and England is going to drastically cut back any kind of military spending. It would be impossible to produce the pistols before then.”
“Now that we have come to an agreement, perhaps we ought to sample some of Darcy’s excellent brandy.”
McDunn stood and went to the sideboard, returning with four glasses. He handed two glasses of brandy to the two gentlemen and a glass of wine to Georgiana before holding up his own glass of Scotch in a toast.
“Here’s to the future, gentlemen and lady! Some of what I have predicted may vary considerably in the test of time. It seems as though things never work out in the future quite like even the most knowledgeable planners forecast.”
McDunn took a healthy drink from his glass and then looked at the depleted bottle on the sideboard. “Um…might we convert one or two of those Krugerrands into some more of this smuggled whisky? For some reason, it’s tasting better and better.”
“I daresay it is,” Darcy said, rising to his feet and clinking his brandy glass with McDunn’s. “I shall have Hamilton ask about procuring some. If anyone knows how to get a new supply, it would be him.”
“Filthy stuff,” Fitzwilliam said, clinking his glass also. “Only an American could drink it.”
Chapter 6
These findings illustrate an interesting trend. In the past, a nation’s competitive power was determined by its geographical size and population. Beginning in the eighteenth century, however, the industrial revolution changed the balance of power among nations, and today even a small nation can achieve affluence and economic strength through its industrial achievement.
—Hajime Karatsu, Japanese business
educator and author
Mid-October 1809
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Life at Pemberley soon settled into a routine as curiosities moderated under a barrage of questions asked and resolved. McDunn continued to rise early to exercise, and interest waned among the servants about the eccentric habits of their master’s new American friend.
In a few days, the Lambton tailor brought the first products of his labors. McDunn was pleased with the first delivery of a pair of simple cotton trousers and a T-shirt for exercising, allowing him to retire his worn and mended BDUs to an upper shelf in his closet. He kept his boots since the first delivery from the boot maker had not arrived.
McDunn continued to work his way carefully through the contents of his pack while Georgiana soon completed her inventory of his gold. She was careful and thorough, documenting more than thirty-four hundred Krugerrands along with a smattering of other gold coins. All the precious metals were now secured in the massive locking strongbox in her brother’s study.
During his ponderings about what he might be able to accomplish in this new world, McDunn usually had the assistance or at least the company of one or more of his new helpers. After only a few days, they had started to feel as though they were members of a secret coterie, especially since their many gatherings had to be held in private where they could ask the myriad of questions that still bubbled up.
But some of the things his new friends found truly interesting surprised him because they were things McDunn had taken for granted for so long, he barely thought about them anymore. For example, when Georgiana was examining his wallet, she gave a sharp cry of surprise.
“What is the matter, dear?” Darcy asked, crossing to her side.
“Look!” she said, pointing to McDunn’s Marine identification card. When McDunn and Fitzwilliam joined them, McDunn realized none of them had ever seen a photograph before, only pa
intings and drawings.
He pulled the card from his wallet and handed it to Georgiana, who looked from the card to him and back to the card.
“This is magic, Major! It is not a portrait at all! It is you to the life!”
“True,” McDunn agreed then found his driver’s license and handed it to her. The photograph was in full color, which drew more expressions of amazement.
He explained early photographs and the ability to capture an image on specially treated paper inside a box called a camera, and he pointed out that this was one of many discoveries soon to be made. He also showed them his family photographs, which proved a much more painful process.
Georgiana gasped as she came upon a photograph of his three sisters at the swimming pool, wearing two-piece swimming suits. The suits were pretty restrained, especially since the girls ranged in age from eight to thirteen years. Then he realized Georgiana never would have seen so much exposed skin in her life, either male or female, and probably would not until she married.
And perhaps not even then from what I remember about marital customs during the Regency, McDunn thought. But his amusement was tempered by the familiar pang of grief, and when he thought he had his voice under control, he said, “Well, I did say you’d find women’s fashions rather scandalous, Miss Darcy. Those are my sisters, and I can tell you their swimsuits were considered quite modest by the standards of our society.”
Inspired by the small photos, McDunn looked deeper into his pack and found a padded manila envelope from which he removed about a dozen color photographs. Handling them by the edges, he spread them out on the top of the desk.
“This is my Mom and Dad,” he said with tenderness and suppressed grief in his voice. “They were schoolteachers back in Beaufort, South Carolina. They never made a whole lot of money, but they raised us four kids and never complained. Not once.
“And these are my sisters. Jill’s the oldest, and Megan is next. Teresa’s the baby of the family—she’s only in the ninth grade.” His face went stony, and he whispered, “Was in the ninth grade.”
“And they were all killed in those explosions you described?” Darcy asked softly.
“Nuke. Yeah. Memorial Day Massacre.”
He was silent for a moment then quickly pointed to the other pictures. “This is my grandfather. He was in the Corps well before I joined, and he did thirty-four years. He deliberately turned down a chance for an officer’s commission so he could marry my grandmother. They lived about a half-mile from us and must have died with the rest of the family.”
He quickly went through the other pictures, showing them the house where he grew up, the family automobile, their dogs and cats, the picture of his high school football team, and his other memorabilia. At the end, he returned the photos to the protective envelope with the same care with which he had removed them.
“I’d like to find a way to display them, but I don’t dare. There’s nothing like these photos in this world.”
“True, true,” Darcy said. “Perhaps you might be able to do so if you introduce this camera you described. But you are right about the present time. It would be best to keep them hidden away.”
“Along with the other stuff that won’t be useful right away. I hesitate to dispose of anything until I’m absolutely certain it won’t prove useful.”
***
The most astounding items McDunn showed his friends—bar none—were his computer tablets. After watching over his shoulder as he demonstrated their various capabilities, he locked them so nothing could be altered, and handed one to each of them with a minimum of instructions, letting them experiment. It was more than a half-hour before any of the three looked up. They simply stared at the tablets in their hands and then at him in wonder, trying to comprehend what they had just observed.
“This is—I cannot think of a way to describe it other than to use Georgiana’s word. It is magical,” Darcy said slowly. “The pictures…the documents…I have no words to describe what I am seeing.”
“This alone”—Fitzwilliam motioned toward his tablet—“would be sufficient to validate everything you have told us. If you were just describing what I am seeing without the evidence of my eyes, I could do nothing other than dismiss it as the ravings of a madman. Yet I cannot deny what is in front of me. These computer tablets are real—almost frighteningly so.”
“They are wonderful, William!” Georgiana exclaimed in awe as she scrolled with increasing rapidity through the different screens on McDunn’s personal tablet. “They are not at all frightening! There is so much to learn! And the pictures are so beautiful!”
One thing is definitely the same between my more advanced world and this one, McDunn thought, and it’s the way the young seem to pick up the important elements of computer tools faster than their elders. Give this girl a month, and she’ll know my tablet as well as I do and likely be just as good at pulling information out of the files.
“It’s not magical, I assure you,” McDunn said. “Such tools—for they are tools for learning—were the products of two centuries of science and technology that started with your emerging Industrial Revolution. And they weren’t only for the rich. Mom and Dad weren’t wealthy at all, but we always had computers in our house. And my parents were able to buy my personal tablet for me as a gift when I left for the university, including the extensive technology package I showed you. The detailed information in the package is critical to what I hope to do here since so many of the things I learned at the university won’t translate to what’s feasible at this time. They’ll be invaluable in helping me choose things doable in the here and now, at least for my first projects, because I don’t have the resources to build whole industries. I have to find a worthwhile project that will generate enough profits so I can think larger.”
He looked over at Georgiana. “How are the error-checking test routines coming, Miss Darcy?”
Georgiana reluctantly ceased her explorations and tapped the icons McDunn had shown her when he started the test. “It says all tests were successfully passed complete, Major.”
“Excellent. It’s what I expected, but it’s a relief all the same. But I’m afraid I have to ask you to stop now. It’s time to put them all on recharge and start backing up my personal tablet to the other two.”
“Why is that, McDunn,” Darcy asked while Georgiana reluctantly closed the cover on the tablet and handed it to McDunn.
“It’s usual to make backup copies of important files on a regular basis to avoid losing data. I have to use my other tablets for that since I don’t have any other types of backup devices. We were sent over here to fight the invaders after all, and preserving the data in our tablets was quite a ways down our list of important things to stuff in our packs. Ammo and clean socks were more important.”
McDunn placed all the tablets in their cases and set them on a table with their solar cells positioned for maximum sunlight and their infrared data ports facing each other. He pointed toward the dark squares embedded in the case cover behind protective plastic shields.
“These are solar cells. They use the energy in the light from the sun to recharge the batteries in the tablets. If the batteries get too low, the computers shut down.”
“Energy in the sunlight?” Georgiana asked in confusion. “Sunlight is just…well, light, is it not?”
“But sunlight does contain energy, Miss Darcy. Your skin gets warm in direct sunlight, right?”
“Well, yes, I suppose it does.”
“That’s energy. Heat energy. The solar cells convert sun energy into electrical current for the batteries.”
“Ah,” she said a bit hesitantly. “I think I see…at least a little.”
“It’s a lot to take in, I know. And you’re hearing it for the first time. Just as before, think it over for a few days, and we can always discuss it in more detail.”
“When the backups are done, which may take the rest of the day,” McDunn explained, “I can get started on my technical research. I’ll use my enlisted Corps tablet first since it’s not as adapted for hard use as the other two. I’ll put them aside until the first one starts to fail before switching to one of the more ruggedized tablets. I figure it’s the best way to make all three of them last as long as possible. When they die, it’ll be the end. I need to have as many of my plans as possible converted to paper before then.”
“How long will these magical tablets last, do you think?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“Hard to say. My experience is that devices like this either go bad very quickly or they last quite a while. Probably the weakest component is the battery, but I figure I might still be able to use them if I work where sunlight can fall on the solar cells and provide voltage to the electronics.”
“Uh, Darcy,” Fitzwilliam asked, “did you understand a single word the man just said?”
“Not one, cousin. Not one. But perhaps it will become clearer if we pay closer attention.”
“Unlikely,” Fitzwilliam muttered.
McDunn laughed sympathetically. “After the battery, it’s just a matter of chance about what’ll fail next. As I said, all the tablets are ruggedized to some degree, but none of them are going to last forever. I hope to get at least twenty, maybe twenty-five years out of them, but I’ll be astonished if any of them are still working longer than that no matter how little I use them.”
