Ring of Fire III Read online

  Richard glanced behind Nathan, to see what had become of the first robber. He would never threaten anyone again. He was lying in a heap. Richard turned his weapon aside and carefully lowered the hammer.

  Nathan did no such thing. Without a moment’s pause he freed his sword and whirled to face the bushes again, poised to thrust or slash at need. He snapped, “Let’s be away, Richard. There could be another in hiding.”

  Richard leapt to his feet with his traveling bag in one hand and his gun still in the other, hurrying to keep up. Nathan was watching over his shoulder as much as he was looking at the road ahead. Finally he slowed after a couple of hundred yards, where the view was open on either side. He looked over to Richard.

  “That wasn’t badly done, for a cloistered scholar. I think perhaps you saved my life just now.”

  “You saved mine, for certain. It seemed to me that you drew before those men even appeared.”

  “I did. I misliked the place. Those bushes were too thick and too close to the road. There was that stretch of mire we’d just passed, where we couldn’t have run with any sort of burden. It seemed a perfect spot for an ambush. So I put my hand to my sword. Then I heard a sound from within the bushes. I didn’t wait to see what would come out.”

  “And so you ambushed them instead.”

  “We were unreasonably lucky. They were stupid, and they were most likely new to this game. They should have run when they saw my sword at the ready.”

  “Perhaps they were afraid you’d follow them into the thicket and take them from behind.”

  “Then I’d have been the fool. There was no way to know whether I’d run straight into more of them. And that one you kept from my back should have known that a good many travelers carry pistols that can shoot more than once, leaving aside that fancy little German revolver you carry.

  “And, Richard?”

  “Yes?”

  “You won’t stop beside any more such places, will you? Whatever poets may imagine, soldiers really don’t crave such excitement. After three years in the Germanies with hardly a scratch, it would be embarrassing to be killed by a pair of clumsy louts like those.”

  “No, Nathan. Learning lessons is what I do.”

  “I’m profoundly relieved to hear it. Well, it’s not over five miles from this place to my family’s home. Perhaps you’ll stop with us for some moments before you go on to Cambridge. I think my father would be most interested to hear the things you’ve been telling me, and he could surely find some wine that would be to your liking.”

  * * *

  Nathan led the way around the side of the warehouse to the office door. As he and Richard entered, old Edmund looked up from some papers he was frowning over.

  “A good day to you, Edmund!”

  Edmund Blake stared over his spectacles. “And you are?” He paused. “Young Nathan! Well, not so young any more! You were clean-shaven when I saw you last. A moment, I’ll call your father.” He stepped through the inner doorway. “Master Brantley! Nathan has come.”

  Sounds of heavy things being moved came from within, followed by rapidly approaching footsteps.

  “Nathan! It’s good to see you, indeed! And who is this you’ve brought? A companion from the German wars?”

  “No, Father. I present Scholar Richard Leamington, of Trinity College. We met on board the boat from Lynn, and traveled together since. Even so, we lately became comrades in arms, after a fashion. Richard, this is my father, Master Mercer Jeremiah Brantley.”

  “Welcome, Scholar Leamington. Edmund, I’ll take these two hungry-looking fellows to the kitchen. Dinner is past, but no doubt Cook has some odds and ends that will serve.”

  “Why, Father! I’d think on such an occasion you’d bring out some of the best.”

  “What? The best we have cost a pretty penny, and it had better fetch a pretty penny, or we won’t be in business for long. Drink it ourselves...”

  He seemed to catch sight of the corners of Nathan’s mouth, turned up beneath his mustache, and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

  “Arrr! You always were one for a straight-faced jest. Well, if you don’t have the soul of a merchant already, you’d best grow one quick. I’ll be relying greatly on you.”

  “Yes, Father. Of course.”

  * * *

  With bowls of thick stew set before the young men, Jeremiah poured three glasses. Nathan took his up and tasted, and smiled. Nectar of the gods it most certainly was not, Jeremiah well knew, but it was a respectable wine. Entirely respectable.

  “I believe your mother will be home shortly, Nathan. She’s gone to deal with some matter with a greengrocer, which Cook wasn’t able to settle. Daniel is occupied with business in Cambridge. We can expect him this evening. He’s been looking forward to your return as well. Though, it may be it’s as much because he’s eager to enroll for the Michaelmas term as from any brotherly affection—he could hardly be spared from the business without you to take his place.”

  “Yes, well, as things have come to pass, it’s for the best, for all of us. With the French so thoroughly undone, the army was happy enough to let a good many of us go. I’ll not miss campaigning in all weathers, either. These new generals believe in giving the enemy no rest, but that gave us little rest either.”

  “Speaking of fighting, what was the import of that remark about you and Scholar Leamington here?”

  “Oh, that. A pair of robbers set upon us a couple of hours ago. He kept one off my back while I dispatched the other.”

  Leamington said, “And then you dispatched him as well.”

  “I merely made sure of him. I doubt he’d have lived more than a few heartbeats longer. That is, if he’d still had a heart to beat, which I don’t believe he did after you shot him the second time.”

  Jeremiah considered, then turned to their guest. “So, you stood by my son at the moment of need. Shall we count you a friend of the family then, and speak as such?”

  “I’d be honored. Just Richard, then.”

  “I’m also honored, and grateful as well. Jeremiah.” He reached across the table to shake hands.

  “Father, Richard and I had leisure for much conversation on the boat. He told me many things I think you’d find of considerable interest. He’s just come from two years of studying mathematics in Grantville.”

  “The notorious town that’s confounded all and sundry? Has it upset the world of scholarship as well?”

  “The world of scholarship has hardly begun to feel the upset as yet. You might say it’s been tipped up on edge a little, with the great overturning still to come.”

  “I’ve heard somewhat from Mistress Chapman’s report, and through acquaintances in trade. I’d have thought you’d still be there taking stock, you scholars being what you are.”

  “Indeed, I could happily have stayed years longer. I could have stayed a lifetime. Leaving was hard, and not only because of the glories of the mathematics they brought with them. I made many friends there. But, Cambridge is my own university. It’s past time to come home and teach as much as I can of what I’ve learned, having come to understand the great benefits that learning brought to the England of the other history.”

  Nathan nodded. “This is what I wanted you to hear. But perhaps we might do Richard the courtesy of letting him clean and reload his pistol while we talk.”

  “Of course. If you like, Richard.”

  “I thank you. Best to get it done before returning to the road.” He reached down into his traveling bag for his cleaning kit, and unrolled the cloth wrapping. Laying his pistol and the partly fired cylinder on it, he extracted the full cylinder and laid it aside. Jeremiah eyed the well-made parts thoughtfully as they were laid out before him.

  Richard was obviously marshaling his words as he removed the copper caps and prepared the cleaning rod to swab the bore. Jeremiah put down his empty glass and watched him expectantly. Suddenly Richard’s right hand trembled slightly, and he nearly dropped the cleaning rod. Then he see
med to recover. Jeremiah wondered—it seemed odd, in someone who had just fought so well. But he hesitated to inquire into personal matters on such short acquaintance. Nathan’s eyes narrowed momentarily; clearly, he’d noticed too. After perhaps half a minute Richard spoke.

  “How to put into a few words what I found in Grantville? I went to study the mathematics they brought to our time, and came to understand the roots of their power and wealth. They teach a most learned profession called mechanical engineering, which is essential to understanding and creating their many marvels. It rests on the science they call physics, which is a form of natural philosophy accumulated by centuries of careful experiment. Both rest on mathematics for their expression and system of reasoning. I came to a new understanding. At Cambridge we’re accustomed to study mathematics to shape the mind. They learn it to shape the world.”

  “We have many mechanicians who create most artful devices, though.”

  “To be sure, but often with great difficulty and many false starts. The difference is in the depth and completeness of understanding. A mechanic may make what has been made before, or by a series of trials work out how to make a new thing. But the mechanical engineer has no need of the many trials, or not nearly as many. He calculates, and reasons out what to build. Think of the difference between a printer and a philosopher. The printer can make great numbers of copies of a book, but the philosopher is needed for the knowledge to go into the book. In like manner, what the engineer designs, the mechanic makes.”

  “What manner of things do they make by such learning, then?”

  “Surely you know of the ship Admiral Simpson sent into the mouth of the Thames, that swept aside all opposition as if it were gossamer when it brought away the people from the Tower?”

  “Yes, of a certainty. It was said to move as it would, with little regard to wind or tide, and no broadside could be brought to bear against it before it moved aside.”

  “Well, it was driven by steam, as you’ve likely heard. I know some of the folk who designed that engine. They had never worked on one like it. Simpson wrote to them saying what his ships required, and within days they were making precise drawings of the necessary parts and sending orders to the foundries and machine shops. I don’t mean to say nothing needed to be corrected, but those engines were completed and sent to the shipyard in mere months. There was never any question that they would work.

  “England could have ships like that, and steam pumps for the mines, and even things the Grantvillers lack, such as spinning machines and powered looms to comfortably clothe even the poorest of us. We could teach all of their learning at Cambridge and then carry on beyond it. It only needs enough scholars and enough time to publish what they have in their libraries and private collections.”

  “They allow this? They don’t keep the knowledge to themselves?”

  “They reason that would place them in greater danger than publishing it freely. If it’s everywhere, it can’t be lost or suppressed.”

  “Tell me then, if you would, what such learning in England might mean to the trades in wool and wine, as those are our business. You spoke of mechanical weaving and spinning?”

  “Ah. Yes, those greatly changed life in England in that other history...”

  * * *

  It was nearly time for Hall. The light slanting in through the windows was turning golden. With so many undergraduates and fellows returning for the start of the term, the buzz of conversation had risen greatly over the last few days. Richard approached the table where he’d often sat before, and smiled to see John Rant concentrating fiercely on a book tipped up before him, very much as he’d often done when Richard last saw him two years earlier. John turned at the approaching footsteps and came to his feet.

  “Richard Leamington! Of all people! You look well. Have you completed your foreign studies so soon, then?”

  “No, John, but things have changed. You know it was always my plan to master mathematics, then teach it?”

  John nodded.

  “Well, there’s far more to master than I ever imagined, but if I’m to teach here at all, I must begin.”

  “How so? Places in the university are always in short supply, but surely, with all you must have brought back from that place...”

  “Oh, there was no difficulty gaining a lectureship, even without an M.A. It’s my time that may be limited. No, I’m not well at all.”

  John looked stricken. “What’s the matter, Richard?”

  “Some months ago I began to have moments of dizziness and headaches. At times the sight in my left eye would blur. I went to see one of their doctors.”

  “I’ve heard tales of them. Supposedly they do near-miraculous things for all manner of ailments. And so?”

  “All they could do for this malady was name it. It’s called multiple sclerosis. Treating it is entirely beyond them. Curing it would have been beyond the most eminent physicians even in their own time, and all they are is a few country practitioners, doing their utmost to pass on what they know while they can.

  “It causes a gradual worsening of health, and is invariably fatal in the end. There’s no knowing how fast it may come on. They know of people living twenty years or more with it, but that’s uncommon. So, I decided it was time to bring this new mathematics home, as much of it as I could, and teach for as long as I have.”

  “Oh, Richard, I’m so sorry. But, this seems to leave room to hope, at least. Perhaps you might live as long even with it, as you might have otherwise.”

  Richard walked around to the other side of the table and settled down. “Perhaps. But let’s speak of something more cheerful. What’s that you were studying as I came in?”

  John took his seat again, and picked up the book to show the cover.

  “Isn’t that the same calculus book that went around in Latin translation before I left? I’d have thought, with your passion, you’d have gone a good deal further by now.”

  “Oh, I have. A transcription of a textbook on complex variables has reached us, in English. Fascinating notions, though the use is still obscure. I’m just reviewing a few points before returning to it. But what do you have in that leather case? It looks big enough for a book, perhaps two.”

  “Ah. You must see this. It arrived only today.”

  Richard laid the case on the table and opened it. He took out a flat contrivance of wood and metal, and unfolded it. Then he took out one of several thin packages, extracted a modest-sized sheet of stiff glossy paper from it, and slid it into the rear part of the device. He handed it to John. “Hold this up to your eye. Look through the glass lens on the front, and stand so the sunlight falls on the paper at the back. You can slide the sheet holder left and right, and up and down. Turn this little knob here for a clearer view.”

  John took the device, and moved it side-to-side while fiddling with the adjustment. He stopped.

  “Printing? So small that it needs this glass to read it? Most artful, but why? It must be formidably difficult to do.” He slid the paper sideways, looking for the beginning. He read aloud, “Modern Probability: Theory and Its Applications. By Emanuel Parzen of Stanford University. Stanford University?”

  Richard gestured, palms-up. “A parched and empty hillside in our era, so I’ve been told.”

  “So it must be.” John slid the holder around some more. “By the symbols, this appears to be some form of mathematics, but not of a kind I’ve seen or heard of.”

  “Yes, it is. An advanced topic, used for many important things in science and commerce. I’ve recorded a notice to scholars at the state library in Grantville, that I will translate it into Latin, and our university press will publish it in the original English, and then the translation. As to why, this method of making a copy is a temporary expedient. It’s done with optics and chemistry, I don’t know precisely how. Much less satisfactory than reprinting the book itself at full size, but good enough for the typesetting and translation work, and far faster and cheaper than transcribing by hand. The
y made this in three days. And with each sheet holding the images of four pages, or four images of anything else for that matter, a whole book adds but little to a traveler’s burden—and they hope to put twelve or sixteen to a sheet soon. The actual printed book is safe in the private collection of the husband of one of my fellow teachers.”

  John lowered the viewing device and looked at Richard in surprise. “Fellow teacher? I thought you went there to study. You taught there?”

  “Yes, it was how I supported myself during my studies. The Ring of Fire left a good many of their teachers behind. And now there are many more students than before. As soon as I arrived at the library and inquired in English after books on mathematics, the principal sought me out and asked if I could teach. So for two years I taught geometry and trigonometry in the high school, while helping with translations. Meanwhile I studied complex variables, probability, differential equations, and other manner of things. They greatly value our English university men, there.”

  “They must have been sorry to see you leave, then.”

  “Mrs. Reardon and her busy crew of volunteers did try to persuade me to stay longer. They have great plans. But John Pell arrived recently, and he has taken my place. He’ll serve them well, better than I could, really. I learned much from him in my undergraduate days.”

  “Pell? I thought he’d gone to Horsham to teach school.”

  “He did, but it didn’t last. But while he was searching for a new situation, word reached him of what was to be found in Grantville, and it drew him.”

  John handed back the viewer. “So, there’s another place of high learning in the world. But, what was that you said about a notice of some kind?”