Grantville Gazette - Volume V (3 page)

Jabe didn't answer immediately, as was his habit when thinking about an issue.

"In the up-time United States," he said slowly, "we called ourselves a land of opportunity. We told ourselves that you could start with nothing and that if you worked hard enough, if you took advantage of the chances God gave you, you could be whatever you wanted. No matter who your parents were, or where you were from. I wasn't old enough to vote right after the Ring of Fire, but I remember Dad saying that's why everyone backed Mike—President Stearns. Because he said we could only survive if we kept on being Americans."

"But why were the Richters special? They weren't even born in your up-time United States."

"Because they were proof that the ideas we'd grown up with would work here. Gretchen was a camp follower but given the chance, she became an important leader. Her grandmother married Mayor Dreeson and started a school. I remember Hans told me he only became a soldier for Tilly because he had to. But he joined the Air Force because he wanted to. That made all the difference to him. The Richters are what we would have called an 'All-American Tale.'"

Prudentia watched Jabe work and thought about what he'd said. She'd liked Jabe from the beginning, to the point of finding his awkwardness around her sweet. What Prudentia liked most about the young American was that he listened and thought before speaking. This was new to Prudentia; though, from talking to up-time girls, it seemed to be an unusual male trait from their viewpoint as well.

Prudentia was not sure what her relationship with Jabe would evolve into, if indeed it evolved into anything. But she was more than interested enough to find out.

So, as they worked in companionable silence, she was grateful for the friendship and presence of Jabe, and she knew he felt the same way about her. Jabe was soon absorbed in his work and Prudentia began sketching him in the pad she always carried with her.

Both young people were surprised when Zula McDougal announced dinner. Jabe's mother seemed glad enough to have her oldest son back for the evening. Working for Ollie Reardon and riding herd on Karin Jo and Kyle kept her busy enough, Prudentia knew, but with Pete in Magdeburg and Jabe living out of the house most of the time, she imagined the place did feel empty to the woman.

Zula fussed over Prudentia, much to the young woman's embarrassment, and continually apologized for the simple meal. Jabe explained to his mother what he needed to do.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Zula said. "I can bring coffee down later."

"Thanks, Mom. That'd be great." Jabe said.

"Yes, thank you, Signora McDougal. You are a most gracious hostess."

It was Zula McDougal's turn to blush then. Prudentia thought it was a most charming hereditary trait.

"You're welcome. Call me Zula, please."

Once again, after dinner, Jabe lost all sense of time. The documentary seemed to be going well, and he thought might be able to pull this off after all. Jabe was glad that he was so meticulous about logging his footage, because he didn't have to waste a lot of time watching tape he'd shot that wouldn't have anything to do with his present project. He smiled to himself. He'd been called "anal-retentive" more than once, but if Jabe weren't so exact he'd never be able to do what he was doing right now—cramming sixty hours' work into a night.

As Prudentia watched Jabe work, she remembered Alfonso, a master sculptor she'd loved to watch working when she was a young girl in Rome. The old man hadn't been terribly famous, and hadn't been good enough to attract commissions from the leading families. Still, Alfonso was sufficiently skilled to work for wealthy merchants and petty nobles and had a steady income. In any event, it wasn't the ability of the artist that had impressed Prudentia. It was the obvious passion Maestro Alfonso had for his work that remained in her memory.

Old Alfonso would spend hours, sometimes days, just studying a block of stone. He would touch it, even talk to it. When at last he touched chisel to stone, the sculptor considered each stroke with care, until the object emerged, as if the stone were slowly giving birth to it. She watched Jabe as he would replay a few seconds of video over and over, taking just what he wanted from each clip. Sometimes Jabe would shave off the tiniest increments of time from a piece of footage, just like Maestro Alfonso with his precious marble blocks.

"A sculptor, but of reality," murmured Prudentia Gentileschi. She wondered what her mother would think about that.

"Hmm?" Jabe asked. He stood up from his chair, stretching.

"You remind me of a sculptor I used to watch as a child, in Rome. It struck me that you are a sculptor, but of reality rather than stone."

"I told you, Prudentia, I'm no artist."

Prudentia Gentileschi knew she did not fit the clichés—at least the twentieth century clichés—of the temperamental artist. She didn't hang around in smoky cafes and wear black turtlenecks, nor did she act like a diva, in the sense up-timers would have meant. Prudentia was not a particularly somber young woman. Now, though, she fixed Jabe with a very serious stare.

"You are an artist, Jabe McDougal. I've been watching you all night long. You have the soul of a true maestro."

"I've never thought of it that way. Thank you, Prudentia, very much. I can't tell you how much that means to me, coming from you."

They looked at each other for what seemed like forever. Prudentia did not know how to handle this moment. Obviously enough, despite being several years older, neither did Jabe.

Finally, Jabe looked outside, through the basement window. "Good grief, is that the sunrise?"

Prudentia was also surprised. "So it is. How is it coming?" she asked, nodding toward the computer.

"Done, or nearly so. It'll run for one hour. I just need to put some music on it, make sure all the audio's okay, and put it on a VHS tape. I should be able to get it to Ms. Ambler just in time." Jabe yawned so wide his jaw cracked.

"It's time for more coffee," said Prudentia. "I'll get us some."

While Prudentia did battle with the McDougals' battered Mr. Coffee, Jabe eyed his CD shelf critically. Verve Pipe's "Bittersweet Symphony" was a given, and he thought Barenaked Ladies' cover of "Lovers In a Dangerous Time" would work for the section about Hans and Sharon's relationship. Some quieter pieces of classical music, along with R. Kelly's "I Believe I Can Fly," rounded out the soundtrack.

Janice Ambler was starting to panic. It was ten minutes till noon and Jabe still hadn't shown up. Janice's mentor had worked at a TV station in the early days of live television and had told her often of what it took to play the live programming produced in New York for a west coast audience three hours behind. The shows were broadcast over phone lines, projected, and filmed with a kintescope. The film was rushed to the lab, developed, and rushed back to the studio by motorcycle courier. Janice wondered if her old friend had felt what she was feeling now—and, if so, how he had avoided getting ulcers.

Pacing in front of the high school's front door, Janice heard Jabe before she saw him. A farmer driving his horse cart into Grantville had given him a ride. Prudentia Gentileschi was with him. Jabe handed Janice the tape. The tirade she'd been working up evaporated in a second as soon as she saw the young man; he'd obviously been working through the night.

"Sorry to cut it so close, Ms. Ambler. Had to make sure this one was as perfect as I could make it."

"Jabe, no offense, but you look like hell. Hello, Prudentia."

Prudentia inclined her head in acknowledgement. "What Jabe won't tell you, Signora Ambler, is that sunrise came as quite a surprise. And then he had to watch the finished product at least twice more to make further changes. An artist indeed."

"Yeah, look, I've got to get this into the studio and then get Frank on the air. You two are welcome to watch if you want." Jabe and Prudentia followed Janice to the studio.

Frank Jackson looked like he hadn't gotten a moment's sleep, either. But he refused more than minimal makeup. Jabe thought it was too bad more up-time politicians hadn't had the sense to know that there was a time to look
un
photogenic. Jabe thought that if they had, politicians would have been a lot more respected up-time than they actually were.

Janice double-checked the patch to the VOA radio transmitter, then motioned to Frank. He looked into the camera.

"I have been asked to read the following statement on behalf President Michael Stearns, as well as Emperor Gustav II Adolph of the Confederated Principalities of Europe:

"On October 7, 1633, forces of the United States Navy and United States Air Force, charged with defending the port of Wismar, engaged a Danish naval force intent on capturing that strategic port. Through the bravery of the defenders, the Danes were turned back, suffering significant losses.

"We suffered our own significant losses. Lieutenants Edward Cantrell and Lawrence Wild of the United States Navy were killed defending Wismar, as was Able Seaman Bjorn Svedberg of the Swedish Royal Navy. Air Force Captain Hans Richter continued to press the attack, and was seriously wounded. Rather than attempt to save himself, Captain Richter destroyed the Danish warship
Lossen
by crashing his aircraft into the ship."

Frank paused for a moment to collect himself. He continued:

"President Stearns has said that out of the sacrifice of these four young men, a new order is being born in Europe. The Distinguished Flying Cross is being awarded to Captain Richter and the Navy Cross and Silver Star for Lieutenants Wild and Cantrell, and Seaman Svedberg. The President had told me that he also intends to ask the legislature to approve a new Congressional Medal of Honor. If it's approved, he will ask that it be awarded to Captain Richter.

"President Stearns has also asked me to announce that he will be resigning as President of the New United States to accept the office of prime minister in a new nation to be called the United States of Europe. I will be resigning as Vice President to better serve as a staff officer under General Lennart Torstensson. Both these resignations will become effective as soon as arrangements for the new USE are finalized. Thuringia and Franconia will become a province of the USE, assuming that's approved by the population in a special election. Ed Piazza will become Acting President until those elections are held."

A baffled almost-smile crossed Frank's face. "I know a lot of things are up in the air, folks, but we'll keep you informed."

Frank shuffled his papers. He looked into the camera, eyes bright with tears. "There's nothing worse than having to sacrifice our young people to war. Especially fine young men from our own town like Hans Richter, Eddie Cantrell, and Larry Wild. But in the years to come, they will be remembered as heroes by those who find they have choices, when they didn't have any before. They didn't die for nothing, folks. I can promise you that much."

Jabe's documentary faded in, telling the story of three young men left suddenly alone in a completely unfamiliar world, making their way. A young German printer's apprentice who only wanted to be free to choose, and who chose to fly. Who gave his life to protect the people who had taken in him and his family; not because he was forced to, but because he wanted to. As the documentary ended, an hour later, Jabe knew he'd done something truly special.

"A masterpiece," murmured Prudentia.

"Probably the only one I'll ever do. It'll be a real long time before we can make digital camcorders again."

"Perhaps. You may find another way to do the same. If not . . ." She shrugged. "Every true artist should produce at least one great piece, and art is more valuable when it's one of a kind. Shall we have breakfast in the cafeteria?"

At the moment, the only thing Jabe wanted more than a meal with Prudentia was sleep. "Make it dinner at the Thuringen Gardens. I've got to sleep."

Prudentia laughed. "It is—how do you say?—a date."

Jabe and Prudentia walked out of the studio, out of the school, into the daylight. Prudentia gave Jabe a kiss on the cheek and all the way back to the barracks, Jabe didn't think his feet touched the ground. The story of how Jeff Higgins and Gretchen Richter had met hadn't taken long to make the rounds, and it reinforced the vague idea Jabe had had that you impressed a woman you liked by being the gallant knight. Jabe certainly hadn't saved Prudentia Gentileschi from rape and a life as a camp follower, but he knew that he'd impressed Prudentia very deeply, nonetheless. That he'd done so unconsciously, just by being himself and doing his best, made that knowledge all the sweeter.

When she got to her home, Prudentia found that she couldn't sleep. The Nobili family had cleared part of a room for her to use as a studio, and Prudentia went there instead of her bedroom. A blank canvas stood on an easel. She had spent weeks preparing that canvas and now she burned to paint on it. But what?

Prudentia flipped through her sketch book. She saw the sketch she'd made from the
Dr. Strangelove
scene; that would make a good piece but it didn't feel right, not for this.

Then she turned the page. She smiled, and began sketching outlines on her canvas.

Many months later, when Artemisia Gentileschi was able to make her first visit to Grantville, Prudentia shyly showed her the end result, which hung in the McDougal home.

Sculptor of Reality
, she called it. A portrait of James Byron McDougal at work on his computer.

Artemisia studied it for quite some time, and smiled. "The Gentileschis have a third generation of artists, my daughter. We've done the Berninis one better."

When Pieter Paul Rubens entered the Brussels' home of fellow diplomat Alessandro Scaglia he was surprised to find his friend and patron, Nicolaas Rockox of Antwerp, deep in conversation with the
abate
.