1636: The Chronicles of Dr. Gribbleflotz: Chapter Ten

Dr. Phil’s Aeolian Transformers

March 1632, Jena

    It had been a hard day of almost wasted discussions with the scholars at the university. John Grover and Ken Butcher, accompanied by Derrick Mason, a young radio operator on loan from the army, had been trying to identify the materials and skills available down-time for the manufacture of earphones for crystal radios. They had hoped that it would be an easy matter to find people capable of making the wire-wound headsets at a sufficiently low price that affordable crystal radios could be made, allowing anybody to listen in to the broadcasts of the Voice of America. As things stood, there were about ten thousand up-time radios that could receive the signal. However, they were expensive. What was needed was a crystal radio set that anybody could make or buy extremely cheaply. That way, the Voice of America radio broadcasts would be able to reach everybody, not just those who could afford an up-time radio and a power supply.

    Father Gus, who had been pressed into service as an interpreter, sat with the Americans while they continued to discuss the problems surrounding cheap earphones with a couple of members of the Jena faculty. Listening in, interpreting as needed, Father Gus considered the problems. They needed to wind thin copper wire around “magnetic” iron to somehow convert their “electric signals” into sound. The concept sounded extremely interesting, if such a thing was really possible.

    That had been part of the problem. The Americans had come into Jena with a certain reputation for outlandish ideas and inventions. People, however disbelieving, had been prepared to listen. However, sound from the air? If it hadn’t been for the two-way radios they had brought with them, nobody would have believed them. Even with the two-way radios as proof, many were still unconvinced that they could be made.

    “Hello, Dear. Have you been having fun?” asked John Grover’s wife, Leota.

    Father Gus had to smile. John’s wife, Leota, Ken’s wife, Sarah, and Ken’s sister-in-law, Esther Sloan, presented quite a sight with all their bundles and baskets. They were settling down and displaying their booty from a lightning raid on the unsuspecting shops of Jena.

    “You’ll never guess what I managed to get,” Esther said. She pointed to a heavily laden basket. “It’s almost impossible to get in Grantville. But here in Jena, I managed to pick up a whole ten pounds of Gribbleflotz Vin Sal Aer Fixus, and the price was less than in Grantville.”

    “That’s marvelous, Esther. Can I buy some off you?” asked her sister, Sarah.

    “There’s still some left in the shop. Most of this lot is destined for the school cafeteria. We’ve been forced to feed the students sourdough bread, but with the Gribbleflotz Vin Sal Aer Fixus, we can do biscuits again. The students have almost been up in arms having to go without biscuits.”

    A rustle of paper drew all eyes to Leota and the flyer she was spreading out on the table. “What’s that, Leota?” Esther struggled to read the upside-down flyer.

    Leota looked up at Esther, then placed the flyer down where her husband could read it. “When you mentioned the name Gribbleflotz, I suddenly remembered this. It’s a flyer advertising seminars on the ‘Philosophy of the Essence of Lightning,’ which are being given in the private salon of a Dr. Gribbleflotz. Apparently, the man gives demonstrations of ‘The Wondrous Lightning Generator,’ ‘The Amazing Lightning Crystals,’ ‘Storing the Essence of Lightning,’ and ‘Continuous Lightning.’ It sounds a lot like the kind of things the early scientists used to do. John, maybe you can drop by and see what the man has. It could be interesting.”

    Father Gus had been translating as best he could for Dr. Werner Rolfinck and Dr. Willi Hofacker of the University of Jena. When he mentioned Dr. Gribbleflotz though, both men started to go red. Frau Grover had barely finished speaking when Dr. Rolfinck exploded. Father Gus struggled to keep up as the invective flowed from the good doctor.

    “Dr. Rolfinck says that this Dr. Gribbleflotz is little better than a charlatan. These philosophical seminars are little more than cheap demonstrations of lesser technology with an unscholarly commentary pretending to explain what is being shown.”

    There was a pause while Father Gus listened to a quick discussion between Dr. Rolfinck and Dr. Hofacker. “Apparently, this Dr. Gribbleflotz has no true credentials. He has failed miserably in the university courses on iatrochemistry. The man claims to be related to the Great Paracelsus, father of modern medicine. But the doctors doubt it. He is totally lacking in scholarly skills. He was little better than a self-employed laborant until he started making cooking powders for the American women. That was about his level, they claim. Though, I do wonder why the invective. I wonder what they have against the doctor?”

    Sarah wrinkled her forehead. “Yes. If they don’t think he has credentials, why are they even letting him call himself ‘Doctor?’ I thought that was a protected title?”

    Father Gus smiled at Sarah before turning to talk to the doctors. Moments later he had an answer. “They say they dare not challenge him on his doctorate. Apparently, he is doing quite well with his little ‘blue balls of happiness,’ his Gribbleflotz Sal Vin Betula. With the money from that he has retained the services of Herr Hardegg of Hardegg, Selfisch, and Krapp, a Rudolstadt legal firm with a certain reputation. The good doctors are not rich men. They cannot afford to defend an action of slander.”

    Dr. Rolfinck had been trying to calm down while Father Gus translated for the Americans. But when Father Gus mentioned Sal Vin Betula, he again exploded. Father Gus tried to calm Dr. Rolfinck.

    After a moment, Father Gus explained. “The dean is a little upset at the unscholarly name Dr. Gribbleflotz has given his little blue pills.”

Jena, outside Herr Doctor Gribbleflotz’s Private Salon, later that same day

    “Well. That was a complete screw up. What did you have to go and laugh at his ‘Wondrous Lightning Generator’ for anyway, Derrick?” John Grover asked.

    Derrick Mason smiled apologetically “It wasn’t the generator I was laughing at, Mr. Grover. Whoever made it used a couple of old 78s for the rotating discs. I was just laughing at their choice of titles.”

    “Well, it was pretty unfortunate timing. He’d just demonstrated his Amazing Lightning Crystal. It was a piezoelectric crystal. I’m not sure what type, but apparently he grew it himself. I was at the point of asking him about making some more for us when you cracked up.” John looked at Derrick. “He was not impressed when you started laughing.” John turned to Father Gus. “Father, what do you think?”

    “Herr Grover, I am very much afraid the good doctor took deep offense. I cannot be sure, but the way he immediately called upon his housekeeper to have us shown out . . . I think he may have felt your man was laughing at his lightning generator.” Father Gus gave Derrick a penetrating look. “Also, I believe Herr Doctor Gribbleflotz’s English may be a little better than he lets on. I noticed he paid attention when Herr Mason commented on how all of his experiments were really simple. I think he was ready to take offense.”

    Father Gus turned to John Grover and Ken Butcher. “I do hope you do not need the good doctor’s services. I do not think Herr Doctor Gribbleflotz will forgive easily.”

    “John, how did your visit to the electricity man go?”

    John sighed. “A bit of a mixed bag, Leota. Dr. Gribbleflotz has an interesting range of electrical toys, and his amazing lightning crystal is a piezoelectric crystal. I was talking to him about sourcing some of the crystals when the comedian here,” he waved at Derrick, “decided to laugh at the good doctor’s lightning generator. From the manner in which we were invited to leave, I don’t think the doctor is going to be too enthusiastic about helping us.”

    “What do you want the crystals for, John?” asked Esther.

    It was Ken Butcher who responded. “If they’re piezoelectric crystals and he can make more, well . . . depending on the price, we might have an answer to our headset problem. Rather than use wire coils, we can use fine piezoelectric crystals. John and I are trying to remember recipes for piezoelectric crystals, but we’re coming up blank. If this Dr. Gribbleflotz can make them, then, based on the opinion of Doctors Rolfinck and Hofacker, I reckon we should be able to make them as well. I sure would like to know what he’s making and where he heard about them, though.”

    Esther grinned. “Where is easy. He probably heard about them from one of the Kubiak Country people.”

    “The who?”

    “The Kubiak Country people. Look, here.” Esther passed over a bag of Gribbleflotz Vin Sal Aer Fixus and pointed to the printing on the package. “See. It says ‘Made by HDG Enterprizes (Jena), a branch of Kubiak’s Country Industries (Grantville).’ The address is up Mahan Run, which isn’t surprising if the Kubiak clan is behind it. Anyway, if you talk to one of the Kubiaks up on the Run, I’m sure you’ll find someone who can help you.”

Head Office, Grantville Canvas and Outdoor, Mahan Run, Grantville

    John Grover turned to his wife. “Are you sure this is the right place?” He was sitting on his horse, outside the front gate of Ted and Tracy Kubiak’s home.

    Leota nodded. “Yes, dear, this is the right place. Careful how you cross the cattle guard now.”

    With a sour “teach your grandmother to suck eggs” look, John carefully guided his horse over the cattle guard and waited for Leota. They could hear the yipping of a dog while they rode up the drive to the house, so they tightened their reins and halted their horses until the source of the noise came into view. It was a small dog — a Jack Russell terrier. Before it could get under the horses’ feet there was a loud whistle. The dog stopped in its tracks. Shortly afterwards, a man walked up, bent down and lifted the excited animal up to his chest.

    “Hi, John, Leota. Can I help you?” Ted Kubiak waved a greeting while struggling to keep a firm hold on his dog.

    “My wife and I are looking for the Head Office of Kubiak Country Industries. We were directed here. I was just wondering if we’ve come to the right place.”

    Ted smiled up at the mounted couple. “Yep. You’ve come to the right place. Tracy’s working up in the house. If you’d like to tie your horses to the corral by the shed, I’ll lead you to her.”

    Ted waited while John and Leota loosened the cinches and tied their mounts to the corral. When they finished tending to their horses he released Ratter, who immediately ran up to John and Leota. The dog sniffed around them for a moment, then turned and trotted off. When John and Leota joined him, Ted asked, “So, what’s your poison? Gribbleflotz Vin Sal Aer Fixus, Sal Aer Fixus, or Sal Vin Betula?”

    John stared at Ted, a grin appearing, “None of the above. I was wondering if you know anything about Dr. Gribbleflotz’s Amazing Lightning Crystals, though. We were in Jena and Leota here picked up a flyer advertising seminars on the ‘Philosophy of the Essence of Lightning.’ So me, Ken Butcher and a couple of other guys went visiting. I was just watching him demonstrate his lightning crystal when Derrick Mason, one of the other guys, started laughing around the doctor’s lightning generator. Before we knew what was happening we were out the door.”

    Ted stopped so suddenly that John and Leota bumped into each other as they attempted to avoid running into Ted. “You have had a run in with Dr. Gribbleflotz?” Ted’s voice was stilted.

    John nodded. “Unfortunately. We were in Jena hoping to find out about affordable ways of making headphones for the new crystal radios. When I saw the flyer, I wondered if the lightning crystal might not be a piezoelectric crystal, because if it was, that might be a solution to our problem. Anyway, as I said. Derrick cut loose a belly laugh and we were all but thrown out before I could ask any questions.”

    About then they made their way into the study. Tracy was crouched over a computer, working. She kept working until Ted spoke. “Tracy, a couple of people to see you.”

    Tracy jumped. “Huh? What?” She turned away from the computer. “Oh. Hi, Leota, John. Did you want to speak to me?”

    “Yes, Tracy. John was wondering if you know anything about a Dr. Gribbleflotz and his Amazing Lightning Crystal?” Leota asked.

    Tracy looked at John. “What is it you want to know, John?”

    “Well. We were in Jena when we heard about him and his Amazing Lightning Crystal. I was wondering what he was using. We need something like his piezoelectric crystal if we want to spread the radio service. Without a cheap piezoelectric crystal, we won’t be able to make affordable radios for the masses.”

    “Why didn’t you ask Dr. Gribbleflotz?” Tracy was a little confused.

    “Err.” John paused and turned to look to his wife for support.

    “What John is trying to say is; they tried to speak to Dr. Gribbleflotz and screwed up. They were just about thrown out of his house. He’s hoping you, Kubiak Country Industries, might know something about the crystals, and if you could get us some.”

    “Oh, Leota. John. I hope you didn’t upset him.” Tracy looked toward John. “John, just how did you ‘screw up?'”

    “Derrick Mason was looking over something the doctor called his lightning generator . . .”

    “The Wimshurst generator,” Tracy muttered, identifying the offending article.

    “The what? Oh, yes, a Wimshurst generator. I remember using one years ago. Anyway, Derrick was looking at it when suddenly he started laughing. Dr. Gribbleflotz took offense and had us shown out.” John held up his hand halting the obvious question, “Derrick says he was laughing at the titles on the records being used as the static generating discs.”

    Tracy looked over at Ted. “Do you have anything to say?”

    Ted shrugged his shoulders, a guilty grin on his face. “Do you know which one he laughed at? There was ‘That Old Black Magic’ by Spike Jones and his City Slickers, and ‘Stormy Weather’ by Carmen Cavallaro. I’m quite proud of the Spike Jones one. Given how Spike liked to use expedient materials as instruments. Somewhere, we should have a recording where he used a selection of carefully tuned revolvers. And for a static generator, I thought ‘Stormy Weather’ was a good pick. But I wouldn’t think Dr. Gribbleflotz would take offense at a harmless joke like that.”

    Leota sighed. “If only that was all. Apparently Derrick made a few innocent comments about how he had done things just like all of Dr. Gribbleflotz’s demonstrations while he was at school. John and Ken took Father Gus with them to help translate. He thinks the guy understands more English than he lets on. Anyway, Dr. Gribbleflotz took offense, and that was that. Which reminds me, why do you call him Doctor? My understanding is that he doesn’t have a doctorate.”

    Ted and Tracy grinned at each other. “Oh, he has a doctorate all right. Not from one of the best institutions, of course.” Tracy gave her husband a harmless slap when he started to laugh and turned to give Leota a “what can you do with the man” look.

    “But Dr. Rolfinck was absolutely sure that Dr. Gribbleflotz wasn’t entitled to the title,” John said.

    A smile lit Ted’s eyes. “If this Dr. Rolfinck is so sure Dr. Gribbleflotz is not entitled to be called Doctor, why doesn’t he do something about it?”

    “Because Dr. Gribbleflotz can apparently afford a good lawyer . . . Oh.” Wide eyed, John turn to stare at Ted and Tracy. “‘Not one of the best institutions?’ You don’t mean a diploma mill? An honest to goodness Mail Order Diploma?”

    Straight faced, Tracy spoke, “Dr. Gribbleflotz is a prima facie Doctor of Medicine. I’ve seen the diploma. It’s real sheepskin, with a fancy embossed wax seal.”

    “Wow.” John shook his head and slumped into a nearby seat. “Are you sure? The scholars at Jena could contest the diploma. Will it stand up in court?”

    “Our lawyers have the utmost confidence in the stature of the issuing institution.”

    John licked his dry lips. “I’ll take your word for it. But that doesn’t help me. What will help is getting some of the doctor’s lightning crystals. Do you know what it is?”

    Ted and Tracy exchanged a glance. Ted gave a slight nod of his head. Tracy turned back to John and Leota. “Rochelle salt.”

    “Oh,” A light started to dawn for Leota. “Gribbleflotz Vin Sal Aer Fixus,” she pronounced. Seeing the question in her husband’s eyes, she elaborated. “Dr. Gribbleflotz is making baking powder. Baking soda and cream of tartar are needed for baking powder. You can also make Rochelle salts from the same ingredients.”

    John tried to suppress his excitement. “Is this right? Your Dr. Gribbleflotz is making Rochelle salts?”

    “Gribbleflotz Amazing Lightning Crystals, please.” Ted held up his hand to silence John. “Just a moment. I have something you should see.” Ted turned to the door and called. “Richelle, could you bring in one of the Gribble Zippos please?”

    Ted grinned at John. “This you have to see.”

    A teenage schoolgirl with a baby in her arms walked into the study and passed a small object over to Ted. She passed curious eyes over the guests. Then, she gave a gentle wave before leaving. “That was Richelle, our adopted daughter,” Ted said. “Anyway, John, have a look at this lighter.”

    John took the lighter in his hands. It was shaped like an oversized up-time Zippo. He opened it and looked at the mechanism. Instead of a flick wheel, there was a simple lever. John pushed the lever. There was a spark and the wick lit.

    John looked from the lit lighter to Ted and Tracy, then back at the lighter. He gave it a closer examination. “A piezoelectric lighter? You’re making piezoelectric lighters?” At Ted’s nod, John smiled. “Do you have a supply of Rochelle . . .” Seeing Ted’s reaction, John hastily changed what he was saying, “a supply of Gribbleflotz Amazing Lightning Crystal?”

    Ted nodded. John let out a long sigh of relief. “I don’t suppose you could sell me a pound or so?”

    “Sure. Not all at once, though. But if you can afford to wait, I have a few ounces to spare, and I can ask Dr. Gribbleflotz to make some more. There’ll be a price though.”

    “Hell, at the moment I’m prepared to pay just about anything. How much?”

    “I wasn’t thinking about money, John. Dr. Gribbleflotz is doing quite well as it is. The few dollars for a few ounces of his Amazing Lightning Crystal is neither here nor there. What he will really want is something money can’t buy.”

Jena, an Inn

    Dr. Werner Rolfinck was quietly seething. Beside him, Doctors Conrad “Kunz” Herbers and Wilhelm “Willi” Hofacker were keeping their mouths shut and a careful eye on their boss, because there, in pride of place in one of the best inns in Jena, the man Werner insisted was a charlatan was describing his philosophies to an enthralled audience.

    “This up-time ‘chemic,'” Dr. Gribbleflotz was saying, “is fine for technicians, cooks, and industrial processes. It certainly allows unlettered peasants to tend my caldrons and alembics and produce their powders and potions, but it completely ignores the spiritual component of alchemy.” Phillip looked over his attentive audience. “Did you know that the up-timers produced Sal Vin Betula pills which were white?” At his audience’s collective shaking of heads, Phillip nodded. “Yes, it is true. White. For a pill that is supposed to reduce pain and reduce fever. When every competent alchemist knows it should be blue, because blue is a soothing and cooling color that reduces pain and fever. They are such children in the Great Art. As my Great Grandfather Paracelsus — whose namesake I am — said: it isn’t enough to treat the body, one must treat the spirit. Which is why my amazing headache pills are superior to what the up-timers have, for my Sal Vin Betula pills are pale blue. Yes, Dr. Gribbleflotz’s Little Blue Pill is your friend.”

    Phillip paused for breath. He looked up, made eye contact with Doctors Rolfinck, Herbers, and Hofacker. He raised a hand in silent greeting before continuing his discourse.

    “The nerve of the man. Did you see that? He waved to us as if we were his colleagues,” muttered Werner. “We are going to have to do something about the man. His conceit is beyond words. We have to do something about him.”

    Willi shook his head. “Our hands are tied, Werner. The radio people passed on the news that Dr. Gribbleflotz holds a doctorate from an institution of some stature. It’s best we ignore him.”

    While Werner drank to drown his sorrows, and Willi and Kunz drank to keep him company, on the other side of the common room Phillip continued to talk to his audience. He was getting into his stride talking about the topic dearest to him. Dr. Phillip Theophrastus Gribbleflotz.

    “Of course there are some up-timers that have a clue. I have been pursuing references in their library’s collection about pyramids, and crystal power. While much of it is obviously in conflict with well-established systems, some of their points are most amazing.” Phillip removed his spectacles and drew a special up-time cleaning cloth from a pocket in his up-time style jacket. He exhaled onto the lenses and wiped them. After he slid the spectacles on, he smiled at his audience. “I am particularly interested in the combination of gems with the new metal, aluminum. My careful calculations, corroborated by a most interesting tome in the Grantville Public Library, suggests that a pyramid composed of aluminum members with the appropriate colors and cuts of gems at the strategic points, especially these new faceted gems Herr Roth is producing, could result in the invigoration of the Quinta Essentia of the Human Humors. I am most anxious to pursue it. But as always, funding is problematic. Perhaps the new Aeolian Crystals will assist in it.”

    Phillip looked over his audience again. He had them in the palm of his hand. Tonight’s crowd would be happy to go home and spread the words of Dr. Phillip Theophrastus Gribbleflotz, the World’s Greatest Alchemist.

    “You have heard of the Gribbleflotz Aeolian Crystals I am supplying the up-time radio technicians?” It was a rhetorical question. Aeolian Crystals were too new for any of the audience to have heard of them yet. “They allow the conversion of the Essences of Lightning the technicians have captured in their singing wires to be converted into sensible sounds. The crystals themselves sing. The up-timers insist on referring to them as “Rochelle salts,” but I can assure you that they have no parallel in Rochelle, or any other part of France. No, the singing Aeolian Crystals are a purely German product of German alchemy and up-time technology.” Dr. Gribbleflotz paused dramatically. “We are calling the ‘earphones’ Gribbleflotz’ Aeolian Transformers. They are much better than those simplistic mechanical earphones produced by the jewelers’ guild. Wire and bits of Iron! Ha! Cold Iron can never compete for the spirits of Sound with Salts of Sound Itself!!”