1636- the China Venture Page 44

  When Hengqi first proposed prophylactic acupuncture, Martina had thought the whole idea was a little crazy. But Eric Garlow said that he had read that acupuncture was safe and useful in treating pain, and Mike Song’s aunt had had it when she was pregnant with Diana.

  Doctor Carvalhal wouldn’t commit to a position. He had not thought to ask Doctor Adams or Doctor Nichols about it before leaving Grantville, and of course there were no acupuncture experts in Europe. Martina got the impression, however, that Carvalhal hoped that she would agree to the acupuncture so that he could observe its effects and perhaps, if it worked, learn how to do it.

  After Hengqi assured her that she would stay well away from Martina’s midriff and lower back, Martina had agreed to give acupuncture a try.

  As Hengqi inserted the needles, Martina sang snatches of pop tunes to distract herself. And once the needles were in, Martina found it best to keep her eyes closed, so she couldn’t see them.

  After they were removed, Hengqi asked, “Well, did they help?”

  “No. Maybe. I am not sure. Has Doctor Carvalhal told you about the ‘placebo effect’?”

  “He has,” said Hengqi. “But the point, as I understand it, is that if you think the treatment will work, believing it makes it work. But you are skeptical about acupuncture, so there should be no ‘placebo effect.’”

  “I am not sure that there’s any effect, but I am willing to give it another try.”

  Wuhan

  The Wuhan Military Commission agreed to buy the cannon, the volley guns, and sundry other items from SEAC—but not directly.

  Instead, Yan the Swallow had negotiated a three-cornered deal. Colonel von Siegroth, on behalf of SEAC, would sell the military hardware in question to the Zheng family—with the sales document indicating that the place of sale was Taiwan, not anywhere in China. The Zhengs would then sell it to the Wuhan Military Commission. The money was delivered to Yan the Swallow, who took the Zheng cut and gave the balance to the colonel. And the colonel turned over the equipment to the Chinese military and gave a select crew some training.

  “I am sure they thought it well worth the surcharge to avoid the extra imperial scrutiny directed toward purchases from barbarians,” Eric told Colonel von Siegroth. “Officially, they are buying from fellow Chinese. Where Zheng Zhilong got the goods and from whom is not their concern.”

  The colonel made a small adjustment to his uniform. “It’s too bad the Zhengs didn’t think of this when we were dealing with Nanjing.”

  “They probably did. Lu Weiqi, however, was in a more politically delicate situation, both because Beijing watches Nanjing, the old imperial capital, more closely than Wuhan, and because he was already in hot water over the desecration of Fengyang.”

  “Xu Xiake says that in Nanchang, he was told that Lu Weiqi has been made a scapegoat for that tragedy.”

  “That’s what Yan the Swallow says, too. However, he also says that Lu Weiqi has plenty of friends, including Fang Kongzhao, and Kongzhao and Yan have made sure that they know that we saved Tongcheng with weapons that Lu Weiqi recommended to the Wuhan Military Commission. So don’t write him off yet.”

  “How is Mike doing?”

  Eric smiled. “He wore the sling when we paraded him in front of the Wuhan Military Commission, but that was only for show. He didn’t really need it anymore. The wound has healed nicely, without infection. And Liu Rushi has been fussing over him.”

  “He is a lucky man,” judged von Siegroth.

  Chapter 52

  Eleventh Month (December 9, 1635–January 7, 1636)

  Hangzhou

  “My water has broken!” Martina Goss called out to a passing maid. “Fetch your mistress at once.”

  Ruopu appeared at the door. “I have sent a runner to fetch Tan Hengqi.”

  “Please send for my husband, and Doctor Carvalho, and Hengqi’s father, too.”

  Ruopu grimaced. “I know that I promised that they could come if you stayed here, but I beg for you to reconsider. It is improper for men to be present in the birthing chamber. Especially the husband.”

  Martina spread her hands. “I know that is the belief here. But in my land, customs are different.”

  “I will have them summoned, but I will pray to the Compassionate One that no local spirits take offense at your foreign practice and harm you or the baby.”

  “Thank you.”

  Even the presence of Tan Hengqi at the labor was itself somewhat unusual. She was a female doctor, not a midwife, and it was a distinction with social implications. A female doctor was one of the literati, whereas a midwife was a mere artisan at best. However, she had consented to attend the labor, out of respect for the up-timers.

  * * *

  It was soon evident that this was the real thing, and not a premature rupture of the amniotic sac. The contractions were getting ever longer, stronger and closer together. By now, they were coming every five minutes, as near as Jim could estimate. (He had a wind-up mechanical watch once owned by his grandfather.)

  Since Jim and Martina had expected to have a child soon after marriage—albeit not in China—they had taken a relaxed-breathing class given by one of Beulah McDonald’s students before they left Grantville. The breathing techniques had helped with the pain up to this point, but now Martina was whimpering. She was in what Doctor Carvalhal called “transition.”

  “Push, Martina!” said Hengqi. “Breathe slowly, and push!”

  “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” And a few contractions later, she added, “I’m done. Give me meds to stop the contractions, let me sleep, and we’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe.”

  “I most humbly beg your pardon; that’s not possible,” said Hengqi.

  “I am sorry, darling,” said Jim, “but hang in there.” He put a cold cloth on her forehead.

  “It hurts so much,” Martina whispered. “We should have stayed in Grantville where they could give me an anesthetic. Or I should have gotten the abortion when I had the chance.”

  Jim’s eyebrows raised at this last remark, but he said nothing in response.

  “You’re doing fine,” said Hengqi. “Don’t cry; Chinese women don’t cry during labor.”

  “I’m not Chinese and I’ll cry if I fucking want to!” Martina said. But she spoke in English. Then, in Chinese: “Can’t you just take the baby out of me?”

  Doctor Carvalhal shook his head. “Martina, listen to me, you’re almost done. You need to control your breathing, focus your energy on your uterine muscles.”

  “This is the last time that I am going to do this! No more babies for me! Never again.”

  Hengqi was seated in front of her, of course. “The head! It’s crowning! Keep pushing!” She put her hands at the ready, under the hole in the birthing chair.

  A moment later, the baby emerged. Hengqi cut the cord and placed the newborn on Martina’s bosom. “Congratulations, you are the mother of a fine young boy.”

  “Martin,” Martina murmured. “His name is Martin Victor Saluzzo.” She paused. “How long was I in labor?”

  Jim checked his watch. “About eight hours. May I hold Martin?”

  Martina nodded. As Jim moved into position, Hengqi warned him, “support the back of the baby’s head.”

  As Jim took the baby, Martina whispered to him. “Jim…about what I said…about abortion…”

  “Say no more about it. Deeds trump thoughts.”

  * * *

  Doctor Carvalhal, Doctor Tan and Tan Hengqi moved outside the birthing chamber to give Martina and Jim some privacy.

  “Hengqi, thank you for your assistance with Martina’s pregnancy and labor,” said Doctor Carvalhal. “I would like you to have this as a token of our gratitude.”

  What he was holding out to her were obstetric forceps. These were essentially a very elaborate kind of tongs that had curved branches specially shaped to grasp the head of the fetus. Long forceps were used when the head was still high in the pelvis, and short ones when it had descended
somewhat. These were short ones, the kind a general practitioner was more likely to use.

  Hengqi took the forceps, ran her finger along the curve, and then opened and closed the forceps. “So, you could have taken the baby out of her without cutting her open,” she said in amazement.

  Doctor Carvalhal shrugged. “If the labor had truly exhausted her. The forceps are not without risk.”

  “How do you use them?”

  “We place the woman on her back, with her legs supported. We find the head of the fetus by feel. Then we insert the blades one by one, lock the forceps, rotate the head if need be, and pull gently. Or so I have been told—I have never done it myself.”

  Hengqi turned the forceps over and over in her hands, admiring them from different angles. Reluctantly, she offered them back to Carvalhal. “Won’t you need it? There are two other women associated with your mission.”

  He gently pushed them back toward her. “This is an extra one. I hoped, actually, that you would in turn show it to fellow practitioners. We want the design disseminated as widely as possible.”

  “I will see to it,” promised Hengqi.

  Zheng family office

  Hangzhou

  Mike Song bowed slightly. “It is good to see you again, Admiral. Thank you for your invitation. How goes the venture in Taiwan?”

  “Very well indeed,” said Zheng Zhilong. “Have a look at this.” He pulled out a small locked box, of European design, and handed Mike the key. “Open it.”

  Mike did so. There was a nugget inside. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked excitedly.

  “Yes, it is. Jelani has your milestone payment, the sum that I agreed to pay when we first found gold in the area you earmarked. The further payments, of course, will be based on production.” Zheng smiled. “Have you thought already about how you will spend it?”

  “I have, actually.”

  Part Four

  1636

  On the road to Mandalay,

  Where the flyin’-fishes play,

  An’ the dawn comes up like thunder

  outer China ’crost the Bay!

  —Rudyard Kipling, Mandalay

  Chapter 53

  Year of the Pig, Twelfth Month (January 8–February 6, 1636)

  Hangzhou

  The embassy had decided that where possible they would follow Chinese traditions, but the Saluzzos indulged in certain creative interpretations of those traditions. For Martina, that meant that she had accepted confinement for one month, but had absolutely refused to accept the rule that she couldn’t take a bath during that period.

  Custom also said that on the door outside her chamber, a bow and arrow should be hung to announce the birth of a son. However, Jim hung a screwdriver there instead.

  Doctor Carvalhal, Tan Zhu, and Tan Hengqi of course had been present for the birth and visited each day during the first week afterwards to check on Martina and Martin’s health. But all of the members of the USE mission came by, at one time or another, to pay their respects.

  * * *

  When her infant’s first month came to an end, Martina’s Chinese friends came by to celebrate this milestone in the traditional way. Martin was plunged into a silver bowl, filled with scented warm water.

  “What is that scent?” Martina had asked. Ruopu told her, but the answer fell outside Martina’s Chinese vocabulary.

  Since Jim and Martina had no relatives in China, Ruopu had to take on the part of the family elder, stirring the water with a gold hairpin. She also cut off a lock of the baby’s hair, and gave it to Martina in a silver box.

  Taking her child in her arms, Martina walked around the room, personally thanking each of her well-wishers. Liu Rushi was particularly teary-eyed. “I always wanted to have a son,” she whispered. “But it was forbidden.…” Martina gave her a quick sympathetic hug, and Liu Rushi left with Mike Song.

  The end of the confinement also marked the time for Jim and Martina’s son Martin Victor Saluzzo to receive a Chinese name. If his parents were Chinese, he would have been carried to a Buddhist or Taoist temple by his father. There, the priest would have notified the child’s ancestors and the local Earth God, the registrar of Heaven, of the birth.

  Instead, both parents proudly took him to the Catholic Church in Hangzhou to be baptized. Waiting a month was actually unusual by seventeenth-century European standards. It was common to baptize the first Sunday after the birth, and for the recuperating mother to be left at home.

  There was no way, however, that Martina was going to miss the baptism of her son.

  * * *

  “What name do you give the child?” Father Canevari asked.

  “Martin Victor Saluzzo.” Jim’s father was named Victor, and his grandfather was Marco. “Mark” would have been the English equivalent, but “Martin” was the masculine form of “Martina.”

  “What do you ask of God’s Church for Martin?”

  “Baptism.”

  Father Canevari reminded them of their obligation to train him in the practice of the Catholic faith, and then addressed the godparents. The selection of the godparents had created a minor crisis for the local priesthood. The priests could not refuse to baptize the child of two committed Catholics, even if they be from the dreaded United States of Europe. And while a godparent was not absolutely required for baptism, it was plainly desirable that there be godparents in case the parents died of disease or in some other way, to ensure that the infant would remain Catholic.

  The trouble was that by canon law, the godparents had to be Catholics other than the parents, and the Saluzzos were the only Catholics in the USE mission and the SEAC trading office. If Zheng Zhilong were still in Hangzhou, they could have called upon him, but he had sailed the month before to Anhai and had not yet returned. His younger brother Yan the Swallow was still acting as his liaison to the USE mission, and had remained in Hangzhou for that reason, but he was not even a nominal Catholic.

  Now, a priest could be a godparent—but Joao Froes, the rector of the local seminary, had adamantly refused. He was, as was evident from his name, Portuguese, and it was likely that he was influenced by a desire to protect the Portuguese trade with China from the up-time interlopers more than by any religious scruple. Still, the senior Jesuit in Hangzhou, Lazzaro Cattaneo, declined to order him to participate. Cattaneo himself had fewer qualms about the USE presence—like Canevari, he was Genoese—but the Jesuit mission in China was dependent on Portuguese support and there were limits to how far he was willing to take the matter.

  The two Genoese had considered having Cattaneo officiate, and Canevari serve as godparent, but Martina wanted her son to have a godmother.

  It was therefore necessary to call upon the local Catholic community…even though that meant that the nominees might be exposed to the pernicious up-time thought. At last, the Genoese Jesuits picked Zhu Zongyuan, a twenty-seven-year-old literatus baptized as Cosimo a few years ago to be the godfather, and his wife, also a convert, to be the godmother.

  At the ceremony, Father Canevari asked, “And who stands as godparents for this child?”

  “We do,” said Zhu Zongyuan and his wife.

  Street of the spirit-stone sellers

  Hangzhou

  Eva Huber studied the rock the vendor had pointed out to her. “How much?” she asked.

  He named a figure, and she shook her head. The rock was interesting—a twisted mass of copper ore, malachite green and azurite blue—but the price was so high that there was no hope of bargaining the seller down to anything reasonable. This was, she suspected, because the rock was pierced by a hole, which was a feature much valued by connoisseurs.

  Trying to make her escape, she backed into someone. She turned to apologize. “Pardon me, I was only—Xu Xiake! You’re back!”

  “I am an expert traveler. I always make it back!”

  “Of course! How were your travels?”

  “Exhilarating and exhausting, in equal measure, as always. And again as always, it is all
recorded in my diaries.”

  “Let’s go find a sweets vendor, and get a treat, and you can tell me more.”

  * * *

  “When I returned to Nanchang,” Xu Xiake told Eva, “I distributed your ‘rock wanted’ posters.” These had been made by Judith Leyster and other artists, with explanatory text added by Jason Cheng Senior, before the mission left Grantville. They had white space for adding contact information once the mission was in Grantville and knew where its base of operations would be.

  “I wrote on the posters that if they had information, they could leave word for me with certain friends in Nanchang or in Hangzhou. I then continued on to Ganzhou. That’s the prefectural capital; Dayu is only a county seat. I left some posters there, bought some kumquats in the local market, then went off to have a look at the stone buddhas in the grottos of Tonglian Cliff. I rented a horse and rode to Dayu by the old cobblestone post road. I would have liked to have continued on, and taken the Plum Pass into Guangdong, but I was mindful of my promises to you and your people.

  “Dayu lies in a river valley whose river flows northeast, into the Gan west of Ganzhou. The mountains on either side are forested with pine, bamboo and camellia, and quick streams course through them and feed the river. I showed the pictures of wolframite, and the sample, to the villagers, and I was told to look to the north of town. I walked through wild grass that was as tall as a person, save where the mountain oxen cropped it to a more reasonable height. Alas, I did not find any wolframite. But I did find this.”

  He held up a rock. It was mostly quartz, but there were large chunks of a glossy black mineral. “Feel it.”

  It had a greasy feel. “Graphite,” she said. “It makes a mark on paper, and we use it to write with. It is mined in Cumberland, England, where they call it ‘wad,’ but in Germany, where I come from we used to call it English antimony, or plumbago, or bismuth. We take a cylindrical piece, shape the ends so they’re pointy, and then wrap the middle in paper or string so we can hold it without blackening our fingers. Of course, you have to keep sharpening it, and it isn’t easy. Eric’s people have something better, in which a thin rod of graphite is encased somehow in wood. They call it a pencil.”