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Blaise Pascal and the Adders of Apraphul
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Grantville Power Plant, November 11th, 1634
Bill Porter staggered out of the staff lunchroom in the Grantville Power Plant as if he'd been cast out against his will or was in fear for his life . . . or possibly both. He caught sight of Julie Drahuta walking serenely down the corridor and held up his hands as if surrendering to her.
"Julie," Bill whispered, "Julie, just wait a second, okay? Wait a second. Jesus Christ, don't go in there. It's crazy. I can't believe it and I was there."
"What did the boy do now?" Julie smiled.
"The boy? Blaise? Nothing. Everything. It started with that damn pressure flutter in boiler number two. It was there before the Ring of Fire. Blaise is pumping out solutions to electrical engineering math problems faster than he can read the damn book and, right in the middle of everything, he's figuring out the harmonics of the flutter in boiler two like it was nothing and now he's in the staff cafeteria . . ."
"Hey, Bill." Nissa Pritchard walked up to her boss with a smile as bold as brass on her face. "Is it true? In the cafeteria? Is it really him?"
"Yes, Jesus Christ, yes," Bill gasped. "Don't piss him off."
"No need to get huffy." Nissa shook her head and walked past, entering the door leading to the cafeteria.
"What's wrong?" Julie asked.
"Wrong? Blaise is figuring out how to make a computer. Hell, tell the kid we can't go to the moon and we'll be there a week after Thanksgiving. I am afraid to ask the kid to solve problems because he'll do it. He's got an idea for a hydraulic adder but he really wants it to be pneumatic. He thinks water is too messy. Rod was playing a joke on the boy . . ."
"A joke? You know what happens when people mess with the kid? He doesn't understand it and he ends up hanging from church steeples or trying to electrify cats or trying to make his own hydroelectric plant."
"I talked to Rod about what he did, Julie. Look, it was an April Fool's joke from a Scientific American issue about this analog computer supposedly dug up at a site on a South Pacific Island called Apraphul and used by Pacific Islanders to navigate with. It was all hogwash, I mean look at the name of the island and the month the magazine was printed, April, but the kid tried to make one, well, a dozen, okay, forty-nine and he's all ticked. . . . Right, but that leads him to a hydraulic computer. Jesus, why didn't I think about that? Anyway, he needs more room so I get some old chalkboards rigged up in the cafeteria. Easier to watch him with a pot of fresh coffee, right? Anyway, he's in there creating hydraulic computers amongst the microwave ovens and coffee machines."
"You let Blaise near a microwave! Jesus Christ, Bill! I wouldn't let him near a picture of microwave in a book after what he did!"
"Easy, Julie. He's being watched and he is following directions. He passed the safety course and he walks around in the main generator room like a priest in the Vatican . . . always under supervision. He's cool. I even punished Rod for jerking the kid's chain by making Rod personally responsible for escorting the kid. Rod is running himself ragged trying to keep up."
"But a microwave? Matheny is still pissed about that one." Julie sighed.
"Hey, he fixed it right? Anyway, Blaise almost has an Adder working!"
"An Adder?"
"Yes, Julie, it's a fundamental unit of a computer. We could have a computer up and running in no time. To hell with Silicon Valley. We could make a working computer out of stuff he got here. We don't need photolithography and silicon disks. Hell, we could get the Europeans to understand this. Sure, it would be bigger and slower but it would work. Then, I go in this morning and . . ."
"Hey Boss!" Rod Shackleton rushed up to them both, holding a box. "I got these pastries. Think he'll like 'em?"
"Who knows what he likes? Take 'em in! And find out what Blaise is doing in there. You left him alone too long." Bill waved at Rod to hurry up. Rod rushed to the open door and hurried inside. There was a loud burst of French, then a more quiet discussion ensued.
"They're writing on the walls now, Julie," Bill shook his head.
"Blaise knows better than that." Julie made to go around Bill but Bill held up his hand.
"Do you know who's in there? He just shows up as if it ain't a thing. Poof! Allan Sebastian is just following along as if he's lost or something."
"You mean he's here already?" Julie frowned. "I thought he'd settle in first. It's a long way from Toulouse. He just got in like what, twenty hours ago?"
"You knew!"
"Of course I did. Someone comes into town asking about Blaise, I get curious." Julie shrugged. "For all we know, Blaise is a secret weapon. All by himself. It could have been Richelieu's secret plan to blow the place up by giving the kid all the electricity he could want."
"You knew that Pierre damn Fermat was coming and you didn't tell me?" Bill almost shouted. Bill Porter was not a man to shout without reason and this was almost a reason.
"He's Pierre Fermat, not the pope," Julie smiled. "Besides, Allan knew. Allan is a math teacher."
"Blaise Pascal and Pierre de Fermat are in my staff lunchroom," Bill gasped.
"I think you can drop the 'de' thing. My guess is Richelieu isn't going to let him keep it after this little escapade gets out. I've been reading up . . ."
"Pierre. Fermat."
"I. Know. Bill. I am going to put them up at my place for now until they get settled. She's pregnant. They have this incredibly incompetent maidservant with them. God, my son Joseph could do better."
"She?"
"Mrs. Fermat. You know he was, well, is married. Finally, some famous person who isn't eleven and hanging by his neck from the church steeple. Thankfully, the 'False Messiah' thing worked out. Shabbethai Zebi is in there with Blaise, right? You realize how hard this is? I got a False Messiah in the power plant and Mary Timm in a basement cutting glass. And Blaise Pascal in a room with a microwave. God, who's gonna die first?"
"Shabbethai is in the corner reading a scroll." Bill shook his head. "Jesus Christ, Julie, it's like an episode of Laugh In! Who the hell is going to show up next? Descartes?"
"He's too old to move out of Amsterdam. Besides, I don't think . . ."
"Excuse," Jacqueline Pascal said politely as she led Logan Sebastian by the hand past them both. "In here?"
"Yes, Jackie, Blaise is in there and busy. I'll be in in a minute." Julie waved. "Don't start without me. And keep your brother away from the microwave!"
"Start?" Bill shook his head, almost whimpering. "What's Blaise going to start?"
"Logan didn't want to wait any longer for Blaise to ask her to the Thanksgiving Dance so Jacqueline decided to act in loco mommy and bring the two together," Julie said. "Jacqueline treats her brother like he's a lost puppy."
"I hope Allan knows, because he's in there." Bill pointed and, as if on cue, Allan Sebastian, Blaise Pascal's second mathematics teacher, poked his head out of the crowded staff cafeteria.
"Hey, Bill, you're needed." Allan waved then hurried back inside.
"Jesus, Julie," Bill whispered, "I'm needed in a room with Blaise Pascal and Pierre de Fermat."
"Pierre was very adamant about the 'de' thing. I think he's interested in teaching in Grantville," Julie told Bill.
"We don't have a college here yet." Bill shook his head.
"I think he wants to teach middle school," Julie said.
"Middle school!" Bill shouted. "Pierre de Fermat teaching ...
That ends the preview. Probably in the middle of a sentence. Sorry.

