1632

Ollie suppressed a sigh. He pointed to a fixture sitting in a rack at the end of the lathe's ways. The fixture, which could be swung apart on a hinge, formed an open circle some ten inches in diameter. Three adjustable columns ending in ball bearings projected into the center at 120-degree intervals. Two of them would cradle the piece from below; the third, from directly above.

"That is," he growled. "You set it on the ways, clamp it down, and then bring the bearings to ride on the machined surface which Jack's cutting right now. Steadies the piece and holds it true for the next operation, which, on these three-pounder barrels, is drilling out the bore." The precisionist soul of a machinist surfaced. Frowning: "We really ought to be reaming it, for the finish cut-we'll use a boring bar for the six-pounders-but those cast iron cannonballs are so sloppy and uneven there's no point. We'd be trying to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear."

Mackay flushed. "I see." With obvious embarrassment, he tugged at his short beard. "I see," he repeated.

Next to him, Julie grinned. "Any more questions, big shot?" She turned to Ollie and shrugged. "You got to make allowances. He's still trying to adjust to his magnificent new status."

The grin widened. "Colonel Mackay, no less. And he only just turned twenty-three!"

"Stop it, girl," grumbled Alex. "I was only-"

Ollie clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations on your promotion, by the way. I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it to the celebration at the Gardens yesterday, but-"

A little salt in the wounds, here. "I was here till midnight, making sure we were set up to run the new castings. No time for me to be carousing all night."

Mackay's embarrassment deepened. He had caroused all night. His grumpy attitude this morning was the direct result.

"Sorry," he muttered. Then, rallying what was left of his dignity: "Well, since everything is obviously under control, I think I'll be on my way."

Ollie let no sign of his relief show. In truth, he liked the Scotsman, and was willing to forgive the man being an occasional fussbudget. Besides, Ollie understood as well as Mackay what was riding on this first shipment of new guns to the king of Sweden. So, politely-even affably-he escorted the Scotsman and his girlfriend to the door.

Memory of something he'd heard this morning suddenly surfaced. "Oh! And congratulations on your engagement, also."

Julie beamed happily and showed off the new ring on her finger. "Nice, isn't it? Alex found it in Eisenach, when he was there last week."

Mention of Eisenach caused Ollie to raise an eyebrow. He hesitated, wondering if he should ask "There's no big secret about it, Ollie," said Mackay. "Eisenach's almost certain to come in. They're just dancing around for a bit, waiting to see what Gotha decides." The Scotsman snorted. "And they're dancing around waiting on Erfurt, and Erfurt is dancing on Weimar. But it should be all over soon enough."

"That'd give us-what? Six stars on the flag, instead of two?"

Julie butted in before Alex could speak. "Eight, I bet! Word is that Mike and Becky's trip to Saalfeld and Suhl was a big success too!"

Ollie started. "I didn't know they were back. Saalfeld, huh? That'd give us a boost on the chemical side, what with the mines in the area. And-"

Mackay, his voice filled with satisfaction, completed the thought: "And that would almost certainly bring in Gera. The United States would have all of Thuringia's major towns, then. In the south of the province, anyway. Every last one."

But Ollie's mind was already elsewhere. "I'm thinking about Suhl. That town would give us control of the entire Thuringenwald. And what's probably more important is that it would stabilize our ordnance industry. A hundred years ago, you know, Suhl was the biggest armament center in Germany. Still has a lot of capacity left." He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. "We got those castings from Suhl, as it happens. Be nice to see them part of the family."

Less than a year ago, the Scots nobleman Alexander Mackay would have been astonished to see a manufacturer and a former schoolgirl discussing matters of foreign policy. Today, he didn't even take notice of it. On that happy note, Alex and Julie left the machine shop and entered the street.

Immediately, another discussion on foreign policy erupted. Mackay launched a preemptive strike before Julie could raise the subject anew.

"You are not going-and that's final."

"Ha! We'll see about that! You don't get to make that decision-Colonel, sir!"

The two lovers glared at each other as they worked their way down the street. Their progress was slow, partly because they were immersed in the argument, but mostly because the street was very crowded. By April of 1632, Grantville's population density bore a closer resemblance to Calcutta than the small town in West Virginia it had once been.

The preemptive strike having failed, Mackay launched his next salvo.