1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz: Chapter Seven

Dr. Phil’s Amazing Lightning Crystal

November 1631, Jena, Freedom Arches

    Tasha Kubiak tried to tune out the pompous ass who was still pontificating. Somehow both Tracy Kubiak and Danielle Kowach, the two other members of the Kubiak Country partnership who could speak competent German, had managed to be needed elsewhere when this trip had come up. It was now two weeks since Dr. Gribbleflotz had commenced deliveries of Gribbleflotz Sal Aer Fixus, also known as baking soda. But there had been no word from the good doctor about when he would commence production of baking powder. Someone had to travel to Jena to find out what the holdup was and do whatever it took to get Dr. Gribbleflotz making baking powder. Tasha had hoped her boss, Sebastian Mora of Mora’s Café, would refuse to give her the time off to travel to Jena. However, as soon as Sebastian had heard she was going to ask about baking powder, he had all but packed her bags for her.

    So here she sat, letting the drone issuing from the good doctor pass over her head. Growing restless while she waited for Dr. Gribbleflotz to finish, Tasha tried to relax. It wouldn’t do to aggravate the good doctor by interrupting. In an effort to give her restless hands something to do she reached for her purse. Well drilled hands felt inside for the cigarettes and lighter. Still looking attentively at Dr. Gribbleflotz, Tasha expertly felt for a cigarette. There were only a few left. Did she really need the comfort a precious cigarette would offer? Yes.

    It was the action of a moment to remove a cigarette and place it in her mouth. For a brief moment, just the time it took to put the flame to the end of the cigarette and to inhale that first blissful lungful of nicotine laden smoke, she took her eyes off the doctor.

    “What is that you have there?”

    Tasha looked up. The change in tone and volume had penetrated her best efforts to shut out his drone. She waved her left hand, the one with the smoldering cigarette in it. But Dr. Gribbleflotz’ eyes didn’t follow it. They were locked on her right hand. Looking down she couldn’t see what was holding the good doctor’s attention. It was just an ordinary cigarette lighter.

    “It’s a cigarette lighter.” Tasha offered it for inspection. “You pull that jewel down and a spark ignites the gas.”

    Dr. Gribbleflotz looked at Tasha. Then, his eyes alight with interest, he carefully examined the lighter. He flicked it several times. Each time a flame issued from the hole on the top. “How does it work?”

    Tasha stumbled mentally, trying to remember anything she had ever heard about cigarette lighters. “It uses a flammable gas for fuel. When you pull down the jewel the gas is turned on. At the same time, a spark lights the gas. It says lit as long as you hold the jewel down.” Tasha felt quite proud of herself for remembering all of that. It was almost word for word the explanation her daughter Amy had given when Tasha had asked the same question.

    “But what makes the spark?” Dr. Gribbleflotz asked, a little too controlled.

    “Oh.” Tasha looked back at the lighter Dr. Gribbleflotz held. This was getting too deep for her. “It’s an electric spark. Pulling down the jewel completes a circuit which creates an electric spark which lights the gas.”

    “Electric spark?”

    “Yes, like . . .” Tasha struggled for a synonym, something Dr. Gribbleflotz might be familiar with. Her eyes reached out, searching for something. And there it was. A pole towering above a building. A lightning conductor. “Like lightning, only much smaller.”

    Eyes wide, brows lifted almost to the back of his balding head Dr. Gribbleflotz looked back at Tasha, hastily dropping the lighter. “Lightning? You carry a lightning maker on your person?”

    “No, silly.” Tasha rescued her cigarette lighter, shaking her head gently. “Lightning is much more powerful. The electric sparks in my lighter can only jump a tiny distance.” She held her thumb and forefinger a hair’s breadth apart.

    Carefully, Dr. Gribbleflotz reached out again for the lighter. Holding it once again, he tried to light it. “How does it store the lightning?”

    “Oh, that type of lighter doesn’t use a battery. It uses some fancy crystal that emits a spark when you pull down the jewel.”

    “The ‘#8216;fancy crystal’ stores the lightning and releases the spark when you pull the jewel?”

    “Something like that. I do know it doesn’t ever need batteries, though. We have one of the same kind of thingies to light the gas range. It must be more than ten years old, and neither I or my husband has ever replaced any batteries.”

    Dr. Gribbleflotz looked carefully from the lighter to Tasha. Each time he glanced at the lighter he flicked it on. “Do you know how to make these crystals?”

    “Oh, no. They’re way beyond me. My daughter, though. She grew all kinds of crystals when she was at school. Why, if I remember correctly, she even grew some pezzi . . . piezo . . . ah . . . pezeyletric crystals for a science project once.”

    Eyes beaming brightly, Dr. Gribbleflotz took a deep breath. He carefully placed the lighter on the table in front of him. Releasing his breath, he looked Tasha in the eyes. “What . . . are . . . pezeyletric crystals?”

    “They’re crystals just like the one in the lighter. If you do something to them they throw out an electric spark.”

    “Can you obtain a ‘cheat sheet’ to make these pezeyletric crystals, Frau Kubiak?”

    “Oh, yes. My daughter, Amy. She made a wonderful display for her science project. It had pictures and even a working model that would spark.”

    #8220;How long would it take to get a cheat sheet?”

    “Oh, I don’t have to get a cheat sheet. My Amy had all the details on her science project. With pictures and everything.” Tasha looked up at Dr. Gribbleflotz, her eyes brimming with pride. “She got an ‘A’ for it and a certificate as well.”

    “Frau Kubiak. What does your daughter’s ‘science project’ have to do with these pezeyletric crystals?”

    Confused, Tasha looked at him. Surely it was obvious? “My daughter did a science project on pezeyletric crystals. All I have to do is dig it out of the back shed. I kept all her school projects you know.” Tasha smiled to herself. She knew she had Dr. Gribbleflotz hooked. “I’ll let you borrow my daughter’s science project if you will start making us baking powder. Only as a loan, though. I want it back. Do we have a deal?” Tasha held out her right hand.

    With one final look at the cigarette lighter, Dr. Gribbleflotz carefully reached over and dropped it lightly into Tasha’s waiting hand. “Only if I can follow the directions. If I cannot make any of these pezeyletric crystals, then there is no deal.”

    Tasha thought about it. If her daughter could make pezeyletric crystals using household items, then surely he could. “It’s a deal.” Tasha stood and collected her coat and handbag. A sudden thought sent her hand into her coat pocket. Pulling out an envelope, she waved it before passing it over to Doctor Gribbleflotz. “There’s a bank draft in there for your share of the profits so far. Oh, and by the way, could you increase production of the baking soda? Please? More and more people in Grantville want to buy our baking soda.”

    “Sal Aer Fixus!”

    “What?”

    “Sal Aer Fixus. Not baking soda. Sal Aer Fixus. Baking soda is not a proper product for a great alchemist. I do not make baking soda. I make Sal Aer Fixus. Gribbleflotz Sal Aer Fixus. Remember that, Frau Kubiak.” With that final utterance Dr. Gribbleflotz exploded to his feet and stomped off.

    Tasha shook her head in amused disgust and watched the figure of Dr. Gribbleflotz disappear down the street. It’s a wonder he can stand upright with an ego that size. Tasha turned to leave and was confronted by a waitress holding a tray. There was only a single piece of paper on it. Flicking her eyes to the face of the waitress, Tasha smiled. The good doctor had stiffed her with the bill for lunch. With a rueful grin, Tasha reached in her purse and dropped some money onto the tray. She waved off any change and left. Mission almost accomplished. Now, where did she put that science project?

Sunday, the Fellowship hall, after Mass

    Patrolling the fellowship hall with the large teapot, Erin Zaleski came across the widow, Mary Anna Abruzzo. “Mrs. Abruzzo, would you like me to top up your cup?”

    Mrs. Mary Anna Abruzzo took another sip of her tea and grimaced as she looked up at Erin. “No thank you, Erin. I have my own special tea.” With a sour look at the contents of her cup, she took another small sip.

    “Is there anything wrong with your tea, Mrs. Abruzzo?” Erin gave Mrs. Abruzzo a worried look. She was sitting at a table near a radiator in the fellowship hall and she had fair screwed up her face when she took that last sip.

    “No, Erin. There’s nothing wrong with the tea. If you like willow bark tea, that is.”

    “If you don’t like it, why are you drinking it?”

    “It’s my arthritis, Dear. It helps relieve the pain.”

    “Isn’t aspirin supposed to be good for arthritis Mrs. Abruzzo? Surely aspirin would be better than that willow bark tea?”

    “Young lady, it’s quite clear you aren’t familiar with the price of things these days. Do you realize what aspirin costs these days? Twenty dollars a tablet, if you can get them. That’s the black-market rate, mind. If the doctors will prescribe them you can get them cheaper, but not much cheaper. And me living on a pittance and dependent on the charity of my children.”

    Erin, a little lost for words, backed away, keeping an eye on Mrs. Abruzzo who grimaced over another sip of her tea.

Sunday Lunch, Belle’s Place

    “Hey guys, what do you think of the new baking powder?” Belle Drahuta looked around at the rest of the Kubiak Country Industries directors. “Three cheers for Tasha. Hey, Tasha. How did you get the geek to make baking powder?”

    Tasha Kubiak blushed. “I lent him some of Amy’s old school science projects. He seemed fascinated by my cigarette lighter and wanted to make some of those funny electric crystals. I threw in a couple of simple electricity experiments, as well. You know. The lemon battery, and bubbling off hydrogen and oxygen. I was wondering if we could get one of those machines that generate electricity. You know what I mean, the ones where someone stands on a wooden stool and puts a hand on the top shiny dome while someone turns a handle, and their hair goes all funny.”

    Tracy Kubiak shook her head. “You mean a Van de Graaff generator. I don’t like our chances. It’s not the sort of thing anybody around here would buy. The schools are probably the only places with them, and I doubt they’re going to sell them for any price.”

    “Maybe some of the guys can make one. Tracy, you’ve still got a lot of your up-time stock haven’t you?” asked Mary Rose Onofrio.

    Tracy sneaked a quick look around. “Well, yes, but don’t talk too loud. I don’t want the wrong people suspecting what I might have stashed away for a rainy day.”

    Erin looked around the table. “Speaking of things stashed away . . . how is everybody for aspirin? I was chatting with Mrs. Abruzzo after mass. Did you know aspirin is going for twenty dollars a tablet?” Erin targeted her question at Belle’s sister-in-law, Katie Jackson, a pharmacy clerk at Nobili’s Pharmacy.

    “I had heard that there was a black market in aspirin. The boss has been saying he should look into making his own pills. But, he just hasn’t found the time,” Katie replied.

    There was a communal “Oh” and “arhhh” as an idea simultaneously dawned around the room. The Kubiak Country Ladies looked at each other, then turned to stare at Tasha Kubiak.

    “No. Absolutely no. No way. I am not going back and begging the geek to make aspirin. It’s somebody else’s turn. Tracy. He doesn’t scare you. Why don’t you go and ask him?”

    Tracy gave a little shiver. “I had Ted riding shotgun last time.”

    “Well, there you go. Take Ted with you again. Believe me, you’re going to need all the support you can get. I bet he’s elbows deep in that electricity stuff. He really hates spending time away from his precious experiments.”

    Tracy looked at her family. She wasn’t actually related by blood to any of the ladies, but they were more family than anybody but her brother, Terry, had ever been. “Okay, if it’s what everyone wants?” Everyone nodded. “Then Katie, could you ask your boss about a cheat sheet for aspirin? We’ll have to arrange some kind of deal so he gets a royalty payment. Probably something similar to what we have with Christie Penzey for the baking soda and baking powder. Meanwhile, I’d like everyone else to hunt around at home to see what they have on experiments in electricity. Any old children’s science books or home laboratory sets. I’d like to go visit Dr. Phil with something to trade.”

Jena, Dr. Gribbleflotz’s Study

    “Now, when I pump away at the foot pedal, the two discs spin. When they spin they collect a static charge. Those bottles, the Leyden Jars, store the charge, and eventually, we have . . .” Crack. A spark leapt across the two terminals set above the Wimshurst generator.

    Phillip’s eyes lit up when he saw the spark. His new Lightning Crystals, even the biggest he had been able to grow, had only cast a spark barely a finger’s breadth. This new machine the American was demonstrating had sent a spark more than a foot through the air.

    Ted Kubiak carefully discharged the Wimshurst generator and the Leyden Jars before removing the jars. “And, if we could have a willing volunteer to stand on this stool, and touch this wand to the globe. Tracy, would you care to volunteer?”

    “Ted, aren’t you forgetting something?” Tracy asked.

    “But this is important, dear.” Ted tried to placate his wife. “I’m sure Dr. Gribbleflotz will be really impressed by the hair-raising experiment.”

    With a sigh sufficiently loud so that her husband could be in no doubt she was less than impressed, Tracy removed her coat and jewelry, took the wand in her right hand, and stepped onto the stool before shaking out her shoulder-length hair. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get this show on the road.”

    With Tracy in place, Ted started his foot pumping at the modified spinning wheel assembly that provided rotational force to the Wimshurst generator. After a few moments, Tracy’s hair started to stand out. After a couple of minutes all of her hair was standing on end.

    Fascinated, Phillip reached out towards her hair. “No!” Tracy screamed. But too late. Phillip leapt backward shaking his hand. Quickly, Ted discharged the generator and his wife before going to check on Dr. Gribbleflotz.

    “Are you all right, Doctor? I should have warned you. That was a big charge you took there. You should never try to touch the generator or anybody being charged by it.”

    Phillip looked from his stinging hand to the American and his woman. The spark that had flown as he reached to touch the woman’s hair had bitten him, but there appeared to be no real injury. Waving off the American’s attentions, he approached the “Wimshurst generator.”

    “This is for me?” he asked. “Why?” Phillip was getting used to the way these Americans operated. They wouldn’t have come bearing gifts unless they wanted something.

    “We would like you to make some of these.” Tracy passed over a sheet of paper and a small glass bottle.

    Sparing a glance from his new lightning generator, Phillip spent a moment reading the paper. Even at a quick glance he realized he had already made this . . . he did a quick re-reading of the title of the sheet . . . ASPIRIN. Except he’d called his willow bark extract pills Sal Vin Betula, and they’d been a proper cooling blue, not white like the pills in the bottle. He knew how much effort went into making Sal Vin Betula. He would have to spend time away from his latest line of research. And a very promising line of research it was. Electricity was simply fascinating. That Lightning Generator. In his mind’s eye, he could already see people coming to his private salon to see it demonstrated. And there were the other electricity experiments. People in Jena had heard about the Americans’ electricity. His salon would be the first place those people would be able to see it. Phillip looked back to his still stinging hand. And feel it. Better to discourage these Americans before they got too enthusiastic. “The price will be ten dollars per dose.”

    The American woman smiled. Smiled. She should have been outraged. Ten of those American dollars for a pill that cost less than a few Pfennigs to make, and she was smiling.

    “When can you start making them, Dr. Gribbleflotz? I don’t think we should try for more than five thousand a week, to start with. At least until we can properly judge the demand.”

    Phillip was horrified. Thousands a week. The time away from his precious experiments. He would need to buy more cauldrons, more alembics, more retorts, and he would have to find and train more peasant children to do the work. And he would have to shop for the materials. Phillip sank into his chair and watched the American man and woman leave his study. Idly, he reattached the Leyden Jars to his new Lightning Generator and started pumping the foot pedal. He sat in contemplation, absently watching the sparks of lightning leap through the air between the terminals.

    Phillip didn’t hear the knock on his study door, or the sound of it opening. It was the stifled cry of amazement from Frau Mittelhausen that brought him out of his thoughts. Looking up he saw the look of wonder on his housekeeper’s face. “Frau Mittelhausen? Frau Mittelhausen? Is there a problem?”

    “What? No. No problem, Herr Doctor Gribbleflotz. The Americans said that you would require me to make some purchases.” Frau Mittelhausen looked back at the still sparking Lightning Generator. “What is this wondrous machine? How does it produce lightning from thin air?”

    “A better question might have been ‘what do the Americans expect in exchange for this wondrous Lightning generator?'” Phillip picked up the small glass bottle. Inside it were a few white tablets. Up-time aspirin, the woman had said. Phillip shook his head and moved to his desk to start doing some calculations. It took only moments to write a list of what he would need. He handed it to her. &##8220;Frau Mittelhausen, I need you to go out and purchase these items. Also, I will need more workers. Can you handle more apprentices?”

    She glanced at the list and nodded. “I will need to employ an assistant. Do you wish for me to find the additional workers? I’m sure your current group of laborants have family and friends who would be interested in employment in your new manufactory.”

    “Frau Mittelhausen, I am not a manufacturer. I am an alchemist. Just because I train street refuse to make the products the Americans want does not make me a manufacturer. Do you understand me, Frau Mittelhausen?”

    “Yes, Herr Doctor.” Frau Mittelhausen gazed longingly at the lightning generator. Gently, she reached out a hand towards it.

    “No! Do not touch it.”

    Frau Mittelhausen leapt backward, her hands wrapping themselves around her body, the sheet of requirements crushed in her hand. She looked at Dr. Gribbleflotz, shock showing on her face. Dr. Gribbleflotz had never used that tone before.

    “The machine bites if you are not careful, Frau Mittelhausen.” He waved his hand so she could see the red mark on his fingers. “I have already been bitten. Nobody is to touch the lightning generator. Please ensure that the rest of the staff know. Meanwhile . . .” He ran a hand over the books the Americans had delivered with the Lightning Generator. “I need to do a little reading to understand what is happening.”

    “I will get onto the purchases and recruitment of new workers immediately Herr Doctor.” Her eyes alternating between Doctor Gribbleflotz and the wondrous lightning machine, Frau Mittelhausen backed out of the study. She closed the door after one last look at the wondrous Lightning Generator.