"Perhaps not." Boris' face showed very little. "I asked about that. These up-timers . . . they do not understand what has happened. But their arrival changed many things. The librarian said that those changes will, already have, changed history. A lot. When I saw that place in the book, I, too, was shocked. The woman was very kind. She asked what was wrong, then saw the page I looked at. She said that there were things we could do. Send the 'aspirin.' That it might help." Boris nodded to himself.

"With the first courier, we shall." The bureau man waved the notes aside. "That is not what I wished to discuss. The public library we can use with no trouble but the real wealth of knowledge is in the national library. From what the woman said, using the national library will entail some cost . . ." He shrugged. ". . .

or unacceptable delay. I am not that concerned about the fees to hire a researcher." Grigorii snorted at that. Hecouldn't help it. Boris was a tight one.

"I am concerned about two things," the bureau man continued. "First that the researcher might edit the reports and second that he might sell reports on what we were looking into to agents from other lands. I think we need someone to take the library science course and, at the very least, watch any researcher we hire. For some questions we will want to do the research ourselves."

Vladimir nodded. "That sounds like a job for me. I speak the language and am less experienced in some of the other work we will need to do here."In other words, Grigorii thought,Vladimir is not a spy like the bureau men .

Boris was nodding. "That was my thought." He smiled. "That will leave the rest of us time to learn how the rest of Europe is responding to this place. Also if you would write the letter to the patriarch I would be grateful. That is an area where I suspect you have more skill than the rest of us combined."

Most esteemed Patriarch, This is not what you expected to read in my report. Nor is it what I expected to write. The German officer was not insane. No one knows the why of it but the Lord God has seen fit to do something remarkable here. I am sitting in a room that has a window covered with a large flat piece of glass. It lets in the sunlight and the scene outside with no noticeable distortion. In the next room you can turn a knob and have hot water. These things could be the work of skilled artisans of our own time. However, they are not all we have seen. There are works of man that could not have been done by the men of our time.The Ring of Fire itself could not have been made by men of any age. I do not believe that it could have been made by any power short of the infinite power of God. What they call the Ring of Fire is a circle, as near as anyone can tell a perfect circle, six miles across. Within that circle the land has been replaced with land of a different nature, made of different sorts of stone. The hills are as different as though in a single step you traveled a hundred miles. In the months since the event there has been some weathering. In spite of that, it is easy to see the perfection of the cut. The evidence we have found is too consistent to be false. They are from the future.

As I write this, I know that you will realize that I am only reporting what I have determined from this up-time history. The news is not good. War with Poland, right now, is destined to fail. Russia does not have the resources needed. As Colonel Leslie has said many times, the army lacks the proper training and discipline.

I must urge that the attempts to modernize the army take precedence. Also, that any attempt against Poland be delayed until that is complete. See the report attached.

Additionally, and this is most important, you are at risk, as is your son, our Most Holy Tsar. The death of either of you would leave Russia exposed to more troubles. I include in this package a vial of medicine that may assist you both, in the hope that it may help. The histories speak of your death in the year 1633 but they do not specify the cause. I have spoken to the up-time physicians, who tell me that this medicine is often prescribed to those at risk of heart failures. It has the added benefit of relieving aches and pains.

Also, see the pamphlets translated with the aid of up-timers. They tell much about the avoidance and treatment of disease. I urge you most sincerely to give them full credence. The doctors from up-time are already considered miracle workers by the local Germans . . .

Vlad had struggled with that letter. How did you tell a man that he was scheduled to die soon? Perhaps, though, the patriarch would be comforted by the rest of the information he was sending.

They had been in Grantville for what seemed like a few weeks, although it was stretching into months.

Boris was amazed at the number of agents there, several of whom he was on good terms with. "So the Cardinal has decided to oppose them?" Boris wanted to be sure of what he had heard.

"That is what I've been told," the Cardinal's spy confirmed.

When theintendant left, Boris sipped his weak tea and waited for Vladimir to join him. "Most confusing," Boris admitted when Vladimir sat down. "France plans to join with Spain to oppose the up-timers and the Swede. It makes no sense at all. France is surrounded by the Spanish Habsburgs and in danger of being swallowed by them. Yet they will oppose the Swede now, instead of supporting him."

Vladimir wasn't as adept as Boris in international politics, but he understood the ramifications. "What is it about this place that makes the thought of a Europe dominated by the Habsburg beast a better sounding alternative?"

"Granted," Boris muttered, "an alliance between Grantville and Gustavus Adolphus would potentially make Sweden much more powerful, but at least for the moment that is all to the good. Europe is like achess board with a dozen players and now there is another one, suddenly. And it's located in a strategic position near the center of the board. Could it have thrown the French Cardinal off his game?"

"I wouldn't count on that," Vladimir disagreed. "The man thinks a dozen moves ahead. We probably need to be looking at the long term consequences of a more powerful Sweden, as well. Muscovy and the Czar have probably given the Swede as much, or more, money than Richelieu has. Not in cash, but we have been selling grain to Gustavus Adolphus for the last several years and at a bargain price."

Boris took a sip of his tea. "It served to keep Poland in check. And Poland is the major enemy. Now, though, I wonder. If France no longer supports the Swede, should Muscovy continue that support? And I must admit that these up-timers are very confusing. These people can't seem to make up their minds whether they are peasants or nobles."

"I think it's a more subtle thing, Boris." Vladimir was pensive. "I think they honestly see no difference between the czar and a peasant. Nothing innate, anyway."

"The danger is . . ." Boris scratched his beard scanning the cafe again. "That attitude could spread."

"Is spreading." Vladimir nodded. "The Committees of Correspondence, I believe they're called are doing their best to spread it. I don't think they will stop at the borders of the New United States."

"How is it possible to have the good things of the future, the roads, the windows . . ." Boris waved his hand at the "juke box" that played in the corner and then used that same hand to indicate other items of technology. "How can we have all this and not have the ideas spread?"

As advoretskii , a rank that might be translated in the West as gentry or lower nobility, or in the up-time US as a government employee, Boris held lands and enoughpeasants to work them from the czar. That was what he got instead of a salary. He didn't want Grantville's ideas spreading to Russia. Without the peasants, his "pay" would be worthless. He thought about the power supplied by the generators, the improved roads, medicines. Those he did want.

"I don't want the radical political notions," he said. "What we need is a Grantville we can control."

Vladimir considered for a moment. "One cannot control so many people. Particularly not these."

"But one of them . . ." Boris' smile was grim. "One of them, perhaps two. That would be well within possibilities, don't you think?"

"True." Vladimir took a sip of his own tea. "A single up-timer or two. With all of his knowledge, in Muscovy. The more radical notions wouldn't go anywhere, not with just a single person."

Boris mused for a moment. "How much will one person know?"

"Not enough." Vladimir considered. "Someone will need to stay here to ship information back to Muscovy." He gave Boris a look.

Boris looked back steadily. "It will have to be one of us but which one?" He answered his own question.

"I think it should be you, Prince. Because as egalitarian as the up-timers are, the Germans will offer you more then they will offer me. Nor am I convinced that the up-timers are truly as blind to rank as they think they are." Vladimir nodded. "Very well. I don't object. That still leaves acquiring an up-timer. Or do you think with my staying here we don't need one?" Now it was Vladimir's turn to answer his own question. "I think you will need someone that speaks and thinks in up-timer English. Sending me a question every time a word doesn't translate well would delay things too much."

"Probably the best way," Boris acknowledged. "I'll start looking."

Vladimir nodded. "Yes. Meanwhile now that we have the more normal pursuits in order, I can finally sign up for the library usage class.It has a waiting list."

Early 1633 Vladimir was better educated than a great many of his peers. Even so, the library science class was a hard row to hoe. Perhaps the biggest obstacle was that he had never in his life been in a class. He had had tutors. Having to raise his hand to ask a question was a new experience for him. Since Vladimir spoke English,he was in the up-timer library course. For the second time. Unfortunately, the English he spoke wasn't quite the English they spoke. The differences were especially apparent in technical areas, and had caused him to fail the first time through. For instance, the word technical was new to him, though he could mostly work it out from the Greek. The desks, well, they were not what he would call comfortable. And it didn't help that the room was quite crowded. Stuffy, it was.

"Excuse me."

The words came from a young woman. Vladimir looked up at her. "Sorry," she said, smiling. "I need to get there." She pointed. Vladimir pulled his feet under the undersized desk. The woman stepped to the next desk over and sat down. "Thanks."

Vladimir glanced over at her a number of times during the presentation. "Why Melville Dewey was a Great Man." Vladimir didn't know. But the numbers made sense to him. The explanation of the card catalog and the way to find information-now that was what he needed. He scribbled notes furiously. So did the woman.

She smiled at him again when class was dismissed.

Perhaps she would do so again. At the next class.

Vladimir was surprised to see the same woman at the research center the next afternoon.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

She smiled. "We have class together. I remember you from that."

She had a pretty smile. Well, rather a lot of her was pretty. She was too thin. Most of the American women were too thin. "You are taking the class, but you are working here as well?"

"Just part-time right now. Oh, I'm Brandy Bates." She extended her hand. Vladimir took it and performed the odd handshaking ritual that was so prevalent in Grantville. "What can I help you find?" Vladimir remembered Boris' advice,make a friend of one of the students . She was a student, wasn't she?

He handed over a list. A long list. The woman stapled it to the form she filled out. "I'll give that to one of the researchers," she said. "You understand about the fees?"

"Not entirely," Vladimir admitted. "Perhaps you would be kind enough to explain. Perhaps over dinner?"

She smiled again. "Why not?"

"Where would you like to eat?" Brandy asked. Vladimir had met her outside the doors of the school. He was a bit taller than she was, Brandy noticed.

"Ah . . . I am unsure. Is one place more appropriate than another? I was told that asking a woman to dinner was an accepted way of getting to know her here, but I'm not really informed on all of your customs." Vladimir grinned down at Brandy. "I would not wish to, ah, what is phrase . . . put your foot in my mouth?"

Brandy snickered then began laughing. "This isn't the first fractured saying I've heard, but it's one of the best." Seeing Vladimir's confused look, she shook her head. "Never mind. I'll explain it later. It's too noisy to hear yourself think at the Gardens and the band is there tonight, so it will be even worse. You can't say anything at Cora's without Cora listening in, so probably the best place to go for a quiet dinner is Tyler's or Marcantonio's. Castelanni Brothers, if you really like good pizza. Either one of them will be fine."

Vladimir made a sweeping gesture that invited Brandy to walk beside him. He had no idea what pizza was, but he'd try it. "Very well. We shall do that. Now, please, tell me about the fees you spoke of. I intend to do my own research when I finish that class. Why do I have to pay fees for this?"

"The class helps to know where to look for the books and how to avoid damaging them. Anyone is welcome to do research, after all. But it doesn't work if you just come in and start browsing around; we found that out in a hurry. There were more people than the national library could support. Last winter there were a couple of fist fights over who got to use a book first. So, Laura Jo Cunningham decided that what was really needed was a group of people who could read English and do the research for other people. That's what I plan to do."

"That sounds sensible. I should imagine that someone who knew how to do research would be helpful.

But why the hourly charge or the long wait? That I do not understand." Going up and down the hills on foot did take time. But it was time Vladimir could put to good use, acquiring more information.

Brandy waved a hand. A shapely hand. "Everyone has to make a living, you know. The government couldn't afford to fund as many researchers as we needed. The demand just keeps growing, too. In the beginning they were all paid by the council, but they kept falling behind and needing more researchers. As word got out about what we had here more and more people came to see and stayed to learn. Then, someone offered someone extra money if he would go back and check on something after he got off work and that kept happening. It got so that everyone was doing it and eventually, Laura Jo decided that would be a good thing, really."

"A good thing?" The question in his voice was obvious. Brandy grinned a bit. "The problem is we have two sort of conflicting goals. We want the information in the national library to be available for anyone who wants to study it. At the same time, we don't want the national library to use up any more of the national budget than it absolutely has to. In the public library in Grantville it's first come first served, but here it's researchers or you have to get a license and pay an hourly fee for use. If you have a license but can't pay the fee then in exchange for using the library, you have to dopro bono work, one hour ofpro bono work for every hour of use."

"Pro bono, for the good . . . Ah . . . they don't get paid," Vladimir said. "So for every hour that someone there works for himself, and gets paid by people like me, he has to work another hour for the privilege of using the library. Those are the requests that take more time, then?"

"Doing thepro bono work pays for the library time. Not everyone can afford to pay a researcher. In fact, most people can't. But the money to pay the researchers has to come from somewhere. It ends up coming mostly from people that are in a hurry or need something special. Sometimes from people who think we're trying to hide something and want to look for themselves. They just pay the hourly usage fee and look for themselves."

"And are you not trying to hide anything?"

The girl, well, young woman looked offended. Vladimir didn't understand why. It was a perfectly reasonable question. Not trying to keep the information for themselves or sell it at the highest possible price was unreasonable, not wondering if they really meant such an outrageous claim.

"Most certainly not. Anyway, not everyone is in a hurry. Some people are willing to wait. Meg makes up the schedules and the priorities. If it's something that the country needs to know right away, well, we all pitch in until we find the answer, if we can. Even us students. So you've got several choices. Either ask a question that we really need the answer to and we'll all try to find it. Or ask a question that you alone want the answer to and pay a researcher to find it for you. Or wait until they can get around to doing the research on apro bono basis. Or learn to do it yourself and pay a usage fee. You can do it by the hour or pay a monthly fee for unlimited access."

"And if I become a researcher, I also will have to do thispro bono work? For anyone?"

"If you don't want to pay." Brandy looked at Vladimir with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "It depends on how much you have to spend, I guess. If you want to, you can just pay the fee. Some people can't afford that and do thepro bono work instead. And it's a valuable service, you know. Some of the questions are pretty boring, but others aren't. I figure that a farmer needs his answers just as much as anyone else, so I don't mind doing thepro bono work, which is all they let me do right now. But I'll be passing the GED soon, I hope. Then I'll be a researcher, too."

It was just an impulsive move, really,Vladimir told himself. He just thought he would stop by the classroomthat evening. Perhaps someone would be free for dinner. He wasn't specifically thinking of Brandy Bates.Certainly not . Granted she was different from the women he was accustomed to. Very focused on her work. A bit more assertive than he preferred. So he wasn't looking for her, there was no reason for him to be. If he found his mind returning to her more and more often, it was just because he was trying to understand this new culture.That was all.

Vladimir was surprised to see Brandy and another young woman being met by another man. Anotherman who was younger than he was. The man leaned over and kissed Brandy's cheek. Vladimir wasn't jealous certainly not he was offended for Brandy's sake. That was all but Brandy did not seem offended.

In fact she had presented her cheek. Just then, Brandy noticed him.

"Vladimir, come meet Justine and Henning," she called. "I told you about them, didn't I?"

Vladimir walked a bit closer to the trio. "Ah, no. Not that I recall." She didn't seem embarrassed by Vladimir having seen the kiss. Perhaps the fellow was just more familiar with the up-time customs. He was certainly more familiar with something than really Vladimir liked.

The younger man held out his hand. "Henning Drugen, and this is my sister, Justine." Henning looked at Vladimir with obvious curiosity. "Brandy told us about you at dinner last night. I understand you're from Muscovy."

Dinner last night? Did the woman never stay home? Vladimir wondered again at the strange customs of Grantville.

Brandy motioned toward the town. "We're headed home. Mom will be there in an hour or so. We need to get dinner cooked. Would you like to come along?"

Vladimir nodded a bit stiffly and found himself walking with Justine. He wanted to understand what was going on. Did all these people live together? What was Henning to Brandy? They walked closely together and appeared to be rather too familiar with one another. Vladimir felt increasingly certain that there was something out of kilter here. Well, Boris had told him that after a while you developed an instinct. Maybe that was it. Maybe Henning was a spy. Could it have been a brotherly peck? It hadn't seemed like it.

Henning was altogether too comfortable with the customs of this strange place.

Vladimir knew that many of the families in Grantville had taken in refugees and adopted them with varying degrees of official recognition. Why was he bothered by it anyway? Brandy might be an up-timer but she wasn't really noble. He couldn't be jealous. It really must be his spy's instinct kicking in. Perhaps Henning was trying to compromise her, use Brandy as an information source. Find out what information the Muscovy delegation was searching for.

Vladimir was quiet as he accompanied them home, watching Henning, the spy. Henning must be very, very good. Vladimir, in spite of his careful observation, couldn't find a thing about him that didn't fit his role as a refugee.

Almost he decided to excuse himself and avoid Brandy in the future. On the other hand, he needed her, or someone like her, for access to the knowledge in Grantville. No, he would be polite and cordial and continue to cultivate her as a source. Vladimir knew he was lying to himself even as he decided this.

Dinner was a pleasant torture. Pleasant because the conversation was interesting and the food was good. Torture because it was becoming clearer and clearer that whatever Brandy's interest in Henning was, Henning's interest in her was not in the least brotherly. Vladimir was a diplomat and a good one, if young and not that experienced. Part of that was reading people and a lot of it was knowing when to keep your mouth shut. Henning had apparently decided that Vladimir's interest in Brandy was more than professional. He, a bit clumsily, tried to bring up things that would cast Vladimir in a bad light. That was actually helpful. It gave Vladimir clues about what to avoid and how to handle subjects like serfdom in Russia. Yet it didn't fit with Henning's previous skill at pretending to be just a refugee. What was the manafter?

Vladimir decided to turn the subject to something else he was interested in. Turning to Brandy's mother, he said, "Your home is very nice. I am looking for a house to buy here in Grantville. Do you know of any that are available for purchase?"

Donna shook her head. "Not in the town itself. Everyone is holding on to them, right now. But there is that new subdivision out to the north of town. What are they calling it again, Henning?"

"Castle Hills." Henning's face came alive. "You might be able to find something there. A lot of new homes are being built out there and it is on the bus route now. I work there, learning the electricity."

Vladimir filed that information away and determined to go and see. "Perhaps I will go and look.

Meanwhile, I have very much enjoyed the evening, ladies, gentleman." He nodded at each of them. "But it is growing late and I am keeping you from your business. I will take my leave. Perhaps," Vladimir looked directly at Brandy, "you will consider allowing me to entertain you one evening, after I have acquired a home?"

Brandy blushed a bit. She cast a look toward Henning, who was glowering at Vladimir. The she appeared to shake off his opinion and answered, "I would be very flattered."

Vladimir felt a bit triumphant as he left the Bates' home. That was simply because he was cultivating Brandy as an information source. So Vladimir insisted to himself anyway. Perhaps Henning would make a mistake in his treatment of Brandy. Vladimir didn't think she would care for an overly protective attitude. I need a beer, he thought. I believe I'll try the loud and raucous Thuringen Gardens.

"I wish all this hadn't happened." Bernie had to admit it was really good beer he was muttering into, but it didn't make up for all the crap he'd gone through since the Ring of Fire.

"You wish what hadn't happened?" a well-dressed man asked from the next table. Well, well-dressed, but a bit weirdly. This guy's clothes didn't look much like those of any German he'd seen. But Bernie was getting used to weird clothes. There were a lot of them around these days.

Bernie raised his mug and indicated the world around him with a sweeping motion of his hand.

Unfortunately, about half the beer spilled. "Damn. Something else to wish hadn't happened."

The man at the next table chuckled out loud. "You should be more careful. The beer is good, and should not be wasted. It's a bit, ah, high-priced to throw around the room."