Dr. Phillip Theophrastus Gribbleflotz took another look at the bill. He was spending that much on candles? Surely not. "Frau Mittelhausen. This bill for candles. Who has been using wax candles so wastefully?"
Frau Mittelhausen sighed heavily before looking Dr. Gribbleflotz straight in the eye. "You have been, Herr Doctor. You use the good wax candles to heat your beakers. Why you can't use that alcohol burner the up-timers provided, I don't know."
Phillip paused to digest Frau Mittelhausen's statement. Well, yes, he did use candles to heat the beakers sometimes. Especially when he didn't want a big fire. The problem was that the tallow candles didn't give anything like the same heat. And they produced too much soot. Even wax candles, which burned cleaner and hotter, made a lot of soot. He often needed to use several candles at once.
He knew what he needed. Something like the "Bunsen burners" at the up-timer high school. However, that would have to wait until he had access to gas. He knew there had been talk of producing "propane," but for now that was as far off as his much-needed aluminum. As for the alcohol burner the Kubiak Country people had given him, it was very clever. But he could never see the flame, and the alcohol was always evaporating, and it always ran out at the most inconvenient moment. At least with candles he could easily add more, and the heat they put out was greater than that of the single alcohol burner.
He returned to checking the bills. "There must be a better way."
Dr. Gribbleflotz walked around the site of what would soon be the head office and main manufactory of HDG Enterprizes. The new facility was a large compound with buildings for the various production lines, accommodations for laborants and other employees who lived on site, the head office, and the new apartment building for himself and his household. Finally, there was the set of rooms that were his personal office and laboratory.
The current area of interest was the large waterwheel, or more precisely, the area where the waterwheel would be installed. Phillip could see the men clambering around the heavy structure that would eventually support the wheel. He joined the small crowd watching an older man slapping clay around the joints in the steel. Confused, he continued to watch.
"You might want to step back, Dr. Gribbleflotz."
Phillip turned and looked up to see Ted Kubiak. "What is he doing?" He pointed to Erwin O'Keefe.
Ted followed Phillip's pointing arm. "We want to weld the steel frame together. Erwin is going to thermite weld. Right now he's slapping on clay to contain the molten steel until it cools."
"Molten steel? How can you melt steel without a furnace?"
"It's a chemical reaction, Dr.. I can ask Erwin to explain if you like, but for now, just watch. This is really cool."
Phillip watched as Erwin set an odd package over one of the clay covered joints, lit a fuse and jogged back a considerable distance. After a few moments, the brightest light Phillip had ever seen burst from the package. White-hot droplets leaked from the bottom of the clay seals.
Ted pointed. "Those droplets are molten iron from the thermite. The clay holds it in, and the iron cools in place to make a weld. It's really neat to watch."
Phillip stared, awe struck. "Yes, please, Herr Kubiak. Do ask Erwin to explain."
Dr. Gribbleflotz idly fondled a crude iron ingot while he read the letter from Erwin O'Keefe. The ingot was the product of a final demonstration of the thermite reaction that Herr O'Keefe had conducted with one of the remaining thermite kits he had brought with him. The demonstration had so impressed Phillip that he had asked for a "cheat sheet." Herr O'Keefe's letter described the thermite reaction in such detail that he was sure he could easily duplicate it. Herr O'Keefe had even included a couple of alternative methods of initiating the reaction.
Phillip looked over at his cabinet of chemicals in their jars and bottles. He selected a couple of jars and walked to his fume cupboard. He placed a watch glass on a dished firebrick and carefully measured out a small amount of the purple crystals from the up-time "chemistry set." Then he added just a drop of the oily liquid, clicking the stopwatch function of his pocket watch at the same time.
While he waited Phillip admired the "Buick" logo on the door of the fume cupboard. He watched through the safety glass of the fume cupboard door as the purple powder ignited. With the first signs of ignition Phillip stopped his watch. After observing the whole pile of crystals burn, he retreated to his desk where he made notes in his journal. The observed time for the reaction to occur was within the range Herr O'Keefe had written. It was a most interesting experiment, but not as interesting as melting iron in a ceramic pot would be.
As he read Erwin O'Keefe's directions, Phillip could see a potential problem. The thermite reaction used aluminum. Aluminum was a rare and strategic resource. The Kubiak people had indicated he was lucky to get the few pounds they had been able to provide.
Unlike his aluminum pyramid, the thermite reaction could use any aluminum. Minor impurities did not matter. Phillip looked along his bookshelf, toward the model pyramid with its faceted gems. He sighed. He had had such hopes when the Kubiak Country people had provided him with the ingots of aluminum. However, his tests with the scale model had failed to invigorate the Quinta Essentia of the small rodents he had tested it on. It was the aluminum he had concluded. It wasn't pure. The Kubiak Country people had admitted that there were other elements in the mix.
Phillip already knew that pure aluminum would not be available until the up-timers were able to mine the ore. Well, they had admitted that there might be a way to purify the aluminum. However, it required a chemical he wanted nothing to do with. After reading the up-timer handling instructions and warnings, he was happy to let others play with hydrofluoric acid.
He walked over to his store cupboard. Once there, he picked up the few remaining ingots of aluminum. At a guess he had half a pound left. Biting his lip, he turned his gaze to his dysfunctional model pyramid. Make that two pounds.
Seated back at his desk he caressed the iron ingot while he re-read Erwin's letter. An image appeared in his mind. He could see it vividly. He, Dr. Phillip Theophrastus Gribbleflotz, the World's Greatest Alchemist, giving one of his justly famous seminars, and as the pièce de resistance, a demonstration of thermite with . . . Phillip looked down at the iron ingot in his hand . . . a specially molded shape. Something special. Something of distinction.
Thinking of distinction, he looked down at Erwin O'Keefe's letter. No. "Thermite Reaction" didn't have the right ring to it. It needed something more. A real name. Phillip allowed his mind to wander as he searched for inspiration. The molten iron could obviously be molded into any shape. It would take a little experimentation to get it right, but imagine, in a haze of the brightest light, forming an ingot of pure iron from the dross of rust. Phillip shivered. It was almost a holy event. Then it struck him. The "Gribbleflotz Candles of the Essence of Light." Nobody else in Jena would be able to duplicate the demonstration, and if people should want to buy the iron ingot . . . Maybe if it was formed into some significant shape? The ideas ran through his mind while he visualized the demand for his demonstrations.
With a sigh he came back to reality. He didn't have enough aluminum to demonstrate the Gribbleflotz Candles of the Essence of Light at all of his regular seminars. It was a pity, but he would just have to limit the demonstration to maybe one a month. Maybe by the time he used up his small store of aluminum, the up-timers would be mining the ore for more. But first things first. Before he could do any demonstrations he had to be sure he could make the Gribbleflotz Candles of the Essence of Light work reliably. To have one fail would be humiliating. He walked over to the door of his personal laboratory, opened it and called out for his laborant. "Hans. We have work to do."
The first demonstrations had gone well. The audiences had been most impressed by his Gribbleflotz Candles of the Essence of Light. The molds his personal laborant, Hans Saltzman, had prepared had produced finely detailed animals. The rabbit, the lamb, even a ram. Phillip smiled at the memories of his success and turned back to watch Hans preparing for his next lesson in alchemy.
With the electricity from the water driven generator, Dr. Gribbleflotz had been able to experiment with electrolysis. His first experiments had duplicated the work he had seen demonstrated at the water works in Grantville. Since then he had been adding things to the basic "bleach" to see what he could make.
Phillip withdrew the jar containing his latest creation. So far he hadn't had time to examine the white powder the laborants had scraped from the wash filters. This was . . . he looked at his notes again . . . this was the twenty third result from mixing something with "bleach." Bleach was such an ugly word. It did nothing to describe the substance. "The Ethereal Essence of Common Salt." Much more satisfying.
"Light the candle, Hans." Phillip was standing just behind his laborant while he instructed him on laboratory procedures.
"Now, using the wood split like a spoon, scoop a small amount of the compound onto the splint." Hans held the loaded splint just above the jar. "That is a little too much. Tap it gently on the jar to reduce the amount. Yes. That is enough. Now hold the tip of the splint over the flame."
Their eyes followed the loaded tip of the wood splint as it was placed over the flame. Phillip waited to see what would happen.
"What!" Hans dropped the suddenly flaring splint. He slammed the sliding door of the fume cupboard down, sealing the still burning chemical inside. He was shaking a little.
"What happened, Hans?" Dr. Gribbleflotz' voice was remarkably calm.
Hans' voice shook. "I was holding the compound over the flame when suddenly it burst into a violent flame. I am sorry I dropped the splint, Herr Doctor Gribbleflotz. Should I repeat the experiment?"
"No, Hans. You did well. Even I, with my years of experience, was surprised at the vigor with which the compound burnt. I compliment you on your quick thinking in shutting the safety door. I want you to write up what you did, what happened, and your conclusions. We will compare our observations and conclusions over dinner."
"Thank you, Herr Doctor." Hans grabbed his notes before making his escape.
Phillip smiled at the retreating back. Hans was proving himself a suitable student of alchemy. He certainly had the right reflexes. Shutting the safety door of the fume cupboard and letting the splint burn rather than try to pick it up again had been the right thing to do.
He made his way over to his desk and sat down. He considered the experiment they had just conducted. It had been a most vigorous reaction. Excepting the Candles of the Essence of Light reaction, and the self-ignition of the Flowers of Hartshorn, it was one of the most vigorous he had ever seen. He wrote up his observations and conclusions.
The noise in the courtyard attracted Phillip's attention. Looking through the window he was in time to see Frau Mittelhausen greeting the up-timer, Ted Kubiak. A couple of men helped Ted unload the wagon. There were a number of large bottles of something. Ted took one handle of a large basket that contained a bottle, and, with Hans Saltzman, carried the bottle into the building.
Moments later he could hear them in the corridor outside his laboratory. Quickly he hurried over to open the door for them.
"Where do you want it?" Ted asked. "This sucker is pretty heavy."
"Over there on that table, please, Herr Kubiak." Dr. Gribbleflotz waved towards a table set against a wall. "What is in the bottle?"
Ted smiled and patted the five-gallon bottle. "This is some of the new waters of formalin you were asking about when you visited the gas works."
Phillip looked at the size of the container. "That is much more than I usually deal with in my experiments, Herr Kubiak."
"Sorry about that." Ted shrugged. "But the gas works were going to charge about the same price to fill the big bottle as they would if we filled a little bottle. So I went for the big one. You never know, you might find a use for it all."
Dr. Gribbleflotz smiled in return. Yes, if the price was much the same it was silly to buy just a small bottle.
Ted had been looking around the laboratory. Right at the moment he was sniffing the air around the fume cupboard. "What are you working on at the moment, Dr. Gribbleflotz? If you don't mind me asking."
Phillip looked from the fume cupboard to his notes. "Nothing much. Just before you arrived, I was supervising Hans as he tested a new compound. It was something I created using the new electrolysis equipment, 'The Salt of the Ethereal Essence of Common Salt and Ash.' However, it was most disappointing. All it did was increase the rate at which a splint of wood burnt."
"Oh, well. Not everything you discover has an immediate use. Maybe sometime in the future you'll find something it's good for."
Phillip smiled at the up-timer's attempt to raise his spirits. He rested his eyes on the bottle of waters of formalin. "I now have something new to experiment with. Thank you for bringing me the waters of formalin, Herr Kubiak. To make a special trip to Jena just to make the delivery was most kind."
Ted's ears showed a red tinge. "Actually, Dr. Gribbleflotz, I'm on my way to Magdeburg and points north on a buying and selling trip. I had to stop by anyway, to stock up here before I left." Ted shot a gaze at his wristwatch. "Is that the time? I really must get on my way. Your people should have filled the wagon by now."
Phillip smiled broadly while the tall up-timer made his hasty escape. Then, with a contented sigh, he turned his attention back to his laboratory. That fume cupboard needed to be cleaned out first. "Hans, please clean the fume cupboard while I gather my notes from the gas works. We will both have to do some reading."
Hans, who had been hanging back while the good doctor talked to the up-timer, hastened to clean up the fume cupboard. He was interested in finding out what Dr. Gribbleflotz intended doing with his new "waters of formalin."
Dr. Gribbleflotz took notes as Hans carefully added the spirits of hartshorn or "ammonia" to the formalin. In accordance with the recommendation of his up-timer contacts he had been concentrating the solution. At higher concentrations, less of the spirits were needed.
Hans gently stirred the mixture as he added the spirits of hartshorn.
"Stop!" Phillip had seen the first signs that something was precipitating out of the solution. Stepping forward, he read the level from the titration tube and recorded the information.
"Notice, Hans, how something is 'precipitating out' of the solution. Under the up-timer chemistry, we should be able to calculate something about the nature of the product. That will be an assignment for you."
"Thank you, Herr Doctor."
Dr. Gribbleflotz smiled at Hans' less than enthusiastic response. Both of them were finding the up-timer chemistry difficult. "Continue to add the spirits of hartshorn until you are sure there will be no more precipitate produced. Then run it through a filter paper and we will see what we have."
Phillip stood back and observed while Hans added some more spirits of hartshorn. When his laborant thought the reaction was complete, he selected a piece of filter paper from a drawer, folded it, and placed it into a funnel. He then poured the contents of the beaker through the funnel. Then he placed the filter paper on a clean watch glass. Turning to check that Dr. Gribbleflotz approved of his actions, he then opened the folds of the filter paper to expose the precipitate. Then he used his fingers to squeeze it.
"It is waxy, Herr Doctor. And . . ." Hans touched his fingers to his tongue. "It is sweet."
"Hans!" Dr. Gribbleflotz was shocked. "What is the first rule of safe alchemy?"
Sucking his finger still, Hans looked at Dr. Gribbleflotz. "Everything is considered dangerous until proven to be safe?"
"Yes. And do you know that compound is safe?"
Hans took his finger from his mouth and looked at it. The implication of what Dr. Gribbleflotz was saying finally hit him. "No, Herr Doctor."
"Then why did you use your bare finger to test the texture of the compound, and then put it into your mouth?"
"But it should be safe, Herr Doctor. The waters of formalin and the spirits of hartshorn are not poisonous." Hans hesitated a moment. "Are they?"
Dr. Gribbleflotz looked down at his watch. It had been only a couple of minutes since Hans introduced the compound to his mouth. Much too soon to be sure of anything. "We will wait. How do you feel?"
Hans was starting to sweat a little. Using the front of his lab apron he mopped the sweat from his brow. "I do not feel unwell, Herr Doctor."
They waited for several minutes.
"You are still with us, Hans?"
"Yes, Herr Doctor. I still do not feel unwell."
"Then I believe we can conclude, that in the dosage you took, the compound is not poisonous. But let that be a lesson to you. Do not take unnecessary risks." Phillip paused and looked from Hans to the compound sitting on the watch glass. "Sweet, you said?"
Hans nodded.
"Could it be 'sugar'?"
Hans thought for a moment then shook his head. "No, Herr Doctor. It is not that sweet."
"A pity. A great pity, Hans. To be able to make sugar by mixing chemicals would have ranked as a glorious discovery. Especially given the cost of sugar. Now, I guess I must taste it myself."
Phillip stood behind Hans. They were back testing their new compound. Hans had loaded the tip of a wood splint and was about to place it over the burning candle.
Both of them paid close attention. The reaction, when it occurred, was most interesting. The compound, whatever it was, caught fire before the thin splint of wood.
Hans took some of the remaining precipitate and rolled it in his fingers. Then, holding it between two splints, he held it over the candle until it caught fire. He then passed his left hand above the burning compound. "It gives off a good heat, Herr Doctor."
"Drop in onto a clean watch glass and see how cleanly it burns."
Hans dropped the burning compound onto a clean watch glass and held a second clean watch glass over the burning compound. He had to put it down quickly because of the heat. He slid a clean piece of paper under the watch glass so any soot would show up better.
"It is less soot than from even a wax candle, Herr Doctor." Hans turned excited eyes to Dr. Gribbleflotz. "Could it be a wickless candle?"
Phillip thought for a moment, then shook his head slowly. "No, Hans. I don't think it will give off the light of a true candle. However, you say it gives off heat. Maybe we have discovered a replacement for the expensive candles we currently use in our experiments. Come. Let us make a bigger batch. We have many more tests to conduct."
"Hi, Mike. We've got something for you." Greg Ferrara and Christie Penzey slipped into Mike's office. Greg delved into a paper bag and extracted a package from it. He slid it across Mike's desk.
Mike poked suspiciously at the waxed paper bundle. "So, what is it?"
"Cyclotrimethylenetrinitramine."
Mike looked to Christie. "Could you translate that, please?"
"Its RDX, or Cylonite. One of the main ingredients in military C-4 high explosive."
"I thought you said you couldn't make anything other than nitro or dynamite without benzene from the coal tar process?"
Greg grinned a bit sheepishly. "We did. We were wrong. Not about getting benzene from the coal tar process. But we were wrong about the benzene."
"So when did you start making this RDX?"
"We aren't making it, Mike. There's a small company that was making small lots for the Thüringian Rifles." Greg nodded to the package on the desk. "That's where we got that package."
"Well, how much more can they make? And how come the Thüringian Rifles got it first?"
Greg shrugged. "They're only set up to make pounds per week. The RDX is a sideline from their main product." Greg shuddered as he remembered the main product of Brennerei und Chemiefabrik Schwarza, or the Distillery and Chemical Factory of Schwarza. "Percussion caps."
Mike pulled back from his desk and stood up. "I thought you said we couldn't make percussion caps. Wasn't that the reason we went for flintlock over caplock?" Greg nodded. "So how is it that some back woods down-timer operation can make percussion caps when you say you can't?"
Greg shuddered. "You have to understand. They are using mercury, Mike. They're making fulminate of mercury percussion caps, for God's sake. Believe me. That stuff is lethal. It's not that we can't make percussion caps, Mike. We could easily make fulminate of mercury percussion caps. Just tell me how many lives I can budget for. What's my death quota?"
Mike glared at him. "What's with this 'death quota' and 'lives budget' nonsense?"
Christie spoke up. "What Greg is trying to say, Mike, is that people are literally dying to make percussion caps. Sure, we could make percussion caps. But we would have accidents, and probably deaths. Neither Greg nor I want to be responsible for people dying while they make percussion caps. Fulminates are very sensitive. If they're less than pure they become unstable. Hell. Copper fulminate will explode as soon as look at you. That's the problem. To make fulminates you need pure ingredients. Trouble is, we can't just call up our friendly chemicals supplier and ask for a few hundred gallons of pure nitric acid. We have to triple distil everything, even the water we use."
Greg took over. "Then there is the matter of volumes. The best of the backwoods outfits is making maybe an ounce of fulminate of mercury a day. That's enough for about five hundred caps. The army needs millions. There's just no way we can safely make enough caps using fulminate of mercury."
Mike collapsed into his chair. "Okay. I think I understand. We can make caps, but not safely. Certainly not as many caps as the army would need." At Greg and Christie's nods, he settled and returned his gaze to the RDX. "So, how did these folks make this RDX before anybody else?"
"Fuel tablets." At Mike's raised eyebrows Greg smiled. "Yep. Initially they developed the technique using fuel tablets from Tracy Kubiak's old stock from before the Ring of Fire. Apparently, she still had a few cases left. Anyway, they picked up a cheat sheet for RDX from somewhere and started making it. The real break, though . . . that came from Jena." Greg grinned and drew another packet from his bag and presented it to Mike.
"Gribbleflotz Essence of Fire Tablets?"
"Yeah. Maybe you don't know the connection between the Kubiaks and Herr Doctor Gribbleflotz? Anyway, Ted, Tracy's husband, discovered that their Dr. Gribbleflotz was making some kind of fuel tablet. So he got some and turned it over to the people making the RDX."
"So we can start volume production of RDX?"
"It depends on what you call volume, Mike. Kubiak Country Industries has built a facility just outside the Ring to make the fuel tablets. Actual production will depend on the demand. Ted said that there should be good demand from the soldiers who will want something that they can use to cook or start fires with. But for high explosives, the problem is still the pure acid needed to convert it from fuel tablet to explosive. Besides, neither they nor Brennerei und Chemiefabrik Schwarza want to touch volume high explosives. The Chemiefabrik guys are happy to license their methods to anybody who is interested." Greg paused to collect his thoughts, "The question then is, what's the government's priority here? Do we buy a license, set up a plant, and set money aside for widow's benefits? Or we can pay a premium and convince our contractors to up their production. The miners could certainly use it. So could the military. This decision is, as Frank says 'above my pay grade.' So, what do you want us to do?"