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The Doodlebugger

Written by Iver P. Cooper

Wietze Oil Field, near Celle, in the Duchy of Calenberg

Early, 1634

"Hans, dammit! Where's the report on the new mine cars?"

"In a moment, sir." Hans started rummaging through the files, at first calmly, then more frantically. "I am sure it's here somewhere."

"Perhaps it'll be faster for me to just open the window and yell. There's got to be someone down there who knows his ass from his elbow." Quentin Underwood, the Manager of Oil Operations, and former USE Secretary of the Interior, turned and walked over to the window. Looking out, he realized that several of the men were gathered around a stranger. "Who the hell is that? Some fucking labor organizer?" Forgetting, for the moment, that his political bosses were union men. Quentin grabbed his coat and stormed out the door.

***

"Yes, yes, it's working, can you see?" Martin Schmiedechen smiled broadly. His big hands quivered. The long end of the forked stick he held seemed to take on a life of its own. He appeared to be fighting it, as it swerved down and to the left. The oil field workers gaped.

"There's oil there, isn't there?" Martin added.

"Oh, yes," said one of the workers. "How'd you know?"

"Well, as I am sure you realize, petroleum is the oil of rock, and thus partakes of the elemental character of both Water and Earth. Consequently, I have modified a traditional dowsing rod. As you can see, I have wrapped copper wire about it. Copper is a metal, and thus is of Earth, but it is also the metal of Venus, and thus also represents Water, which is a female principle.

"The wires lead to the Harmonium on my back."

They looked with admiration at the black box with silvery alchemical signals painted upon it.

"So what's in the box?" one asked.

"I am sorry, I can't tell you that. It is one of the great philosophical secrets of this age. One possible only by my combining the great Magnetic Science of the uptimers with the secret, almost forgotten alchemical knowledge of the Pharaohs of Egypt." They looked at him blankly.

Martin took pity on them. "But I can tell you that it contains certain objects which have . . . affinities . . . with both the magnetics of the Earth and the alchemical principles of the petroleum."

"You have a bottle of oil inside?"

Martin looked offended. "Nature does not yield its secrets so readily. One must proceed indirectly, and take it by surprise."

Quentin arrived. "What's going on here?"

"This fellow showed us how to find oil," said the foreman. "Isn't that amazing?"

"Can you find your ass in the dark? Of course he can find oil here. You're standing next to a goddamn oil field, remember? And the oil is so close to the surface that half the time we just dig for it!

"This jackass is just a doodlebugger, a dowsing fool with delusions of grandeur. Get back to work!"

Quentin glared at Martin. "What's your name?"

Martin started to answer but Quentin didn't wait. "Never mind, I don't care. You don't work here, you don't have permission to be here, you're out. Security! Where the hell's security when you need it?"

A somewhat red-faced guard answered his call. "Sir?"

"Escort this man out of here. Now. And don't let him back." Underwood stomped back to his office, secure in the knowledge that he had once again triumphed in his never-ending battle against human frailty.

****

"This Underwood was really most impolite, Cousin Ilse. He wouldn't even allow me to introduce myself. And he completely disregarded the evidence of his own eyes, my definitive demonstration of the Oleic Harmonization to his own workers.

"You, Ilse, are the only other living soul to see the contents of my Harmonium. The fossil plant. The bottle of oil. And the Prime Catalyst—” He lowered his voice, even though he knew they were alone. "—the Sparkplug."

"I feel for you, Martin. I will talk to August, he will make sure you get a ...