Two gamers Mike and Paul are trapped in a real-life game that is similar to Europe year 1666-1670. As Mike is stuck in a girls body he has to cross-dress. Women have less rights, and not the least will never be take seriously. Paul has the freedom of trying a social climb by becoming a politician, or a captain in the militia.
**** Mark's narration continues ****
Actually we did fit in relatively fast. We quickly learned the Frisian language called Frys, by the locals, and Dutch was spoken by most persons in more powerful positions. It seemed like Paul and I had spoken some German dialect that had so many common words with Frisian, that we first of all understood what they said were accepted, and as usual -: foreigners ready to learn the local language are more readily accepted. Though they called me te famke as a joke. Whatever - the nickname stuck, at least in this little town, and they never used it in my presence after I demonstrated I spoke a bit of Frys.
We also took work when important things had to be done: like drying up peat to have something to burn in winter, to harvest the grain, or to save some of the boats that were improperly moored when a sudden storm came in August. The latter was maybe an additional reason for accepting us, as Paul saved a local fisherman in the process.
Paul was not too bad when it came to manufacturing small items. I managed to get some copper wire, I managed to make insulator. Together we made the first things that allowed me to achieve my goals. I had this idea I could make chemicals. Historically the chemical industry started off with the need for bleaching and dyes to colour cloth. That had also the advantage that I was not exposed to compete with strong guilds. Altana did not have any guilds, and most cities the dyers guild was weak, and at the mercy of the weavers and drapers. While we were in Zwolle, I sat next to a young guy that turned out to be a paper-maker, apprentice of course. when I saw the quality of his paper the next day, I knew it could be improved by whitening the paper with hydrogen-peroxide and H2O2 has loads of other uses. Paul and I managed to manufacture the small electric generators and electrolysis equipment. We started off in small quantities, and testing the market. I knew I could produce it with relatively small means. A windmill, more correct: a wind-turbine, worked as a generator to make electrolysis. There were so many things I had to make, and we were going to drain our small resources. I didn't have to experiment to understand what I was going to do, and could just concentrate on how to produce things with more primitive means. Four centuries of stored knowledge in my head. Paul could not contribute as much as I wanted, so the best was that he continued to work as a guard, but it was increasingly difficult to keep the job as soldiers were freed from further service.
Two main problems: find a suitable location in town was the main one, and the second was to create a market, in other words: get the masters of the paper-makers to accept such a novel idea. Fortunately there was one who was willing to try, and after the first trial he was convinced. The concentration of Hydrogen Peroxide required for bleaching was reached, and the whole process not too flammable. The bleaching of wool was made with chlorine. I treated batches of wool, and then sold the wool at a much higher value, so our little town soon had a healthy business, which helped the local wool merchants.
We bought a nice tract of marsh and fields just outside the village. Soggy ground that the farmer could not really exploit. It was called Zevenhuis - seven houses because there used to be seven houses there before the smallpox took some of the people there. Then the area was partially reclaimed by the sea. As our name used to be seven something, I don't remember what, it was kind of obvious to take the name of the place. Couldn't take the name “from 21st century”, could we? Paul confirmed that our name used to be “seven-something”, and he wasn't too comfortable about the whole thing, but he got over it.
The water around the place it was brackish, with a very high salt content in the ground. the ground had extremely poor yield. Paul paid two guilders. The gentleman selling thought the price was extremely good. The remaining tenants, “his Boers”, had emigrated to the colonies in South Africa. I had plans to drain quite a lot of the area and reclaim land that way, but that was just plans.
We were almost down to the last penny, when I had enough chemicals to start to sell.
Whiter paper from this town became a good selling item, soon all paper manufacturers in the area were our customers and the price for the secret ingredient was enough to make us well off. I made soda, and chlorine, and chloric acid, and hydrochloric acid, sulphuric acid, and then nitric acid, potassium nitrate and so on. More prosaic was my production of alcohol from potatoes.
I started it up when I got a huge surplus of potatoes to handle. An enthusiastic farmer had produced twelve tons of the potatoes, but to change the eating habit of people takes time, and he was stuck with those potatoes. Potatoes was associated with Spanish occupation, being something they introduced from the new world, but potatoes is a good source for making alcohol. What the general public didn't know was that it is necessary to have enzymes to work on the potatoes, without it, it is next to impossible to make the yeast thrive on the otherwise excellent starch. Oh yes. Starch was a by-product and quite necessary to make the linen cloth stiff, and fashionable, but it was the ability to make liquor from that novelty that was going to make it very popular. This was also ultimately going to have some political implication, because the province of Drenthe where I chose to concentrate the alcohol and starch production was a poor province that had exemption on paying membership-dues to the union. Some years later they would stand on their own, become a full member, and thus shifting the balance of power in the union.
At least it was possible produce "common" things cheaper than what was otherwise available, and that created employment, although it would ultimately irritate some competitors. One guy who was more that grateful for employment was Pieterzoon, a sailor that had been on board the Spieghel during the “four day battle”. He lost both legs to gangrene, caused by wounds inflicted by splits of wood flying around as a cannonball hit the Spieghel. Pieterzoon was a good storyteller, and more than thankful for getting work in spite of his infirmity.
"At least it is more interesting than picking oakum", he said more than once. I have tried picking oakum, and that is a dreary job. It is the kind of job set out to workhouses, and penal institutions as “hard labour”.
When Paul and I marked our second anniversary here, I made a tally. I employed 50 persons personally, and there must be two hundred which ended up with a better outcome - for example as the paper they made and sold was considered better as it was whiter. To some extent I created a shortage of workers on the labour market. I was not very discriminating as to who I employed. I let women have leadership positions if they were up to it. I employed an old Huguenot refugee from France to teach me to write Latin, and French. I wrote French to modern standards, which he considered errors, so a few things had to be unlearned.
My new found wealth was noticed. First of course by the main guards captain, as I bought Paul's contract. I needed Paul to work for me. He was about to be fired anyway as some more experienced candidate who had served in the war. However as a citizen Paul had to do service in the Schuiters - a home-guard type of military service. Normally they would also have me, but I was deemed too small and weak, and I paid my way out of it, by paying more taxes.
Second to notice was the Minister. I increased the tithes I paid regularly. That the same Minster was bigoted was a general problem.
Precisely the fact that I was employing several Remonstrants irritated him.
"Employ a few, Mijnheer Michael" he said, "but do not trust them, the best were if you fired them all"
I was suddenly irritated by the familiar use of my name, as most others had changed to Mijnheer van Zevenhuisen, as I was obviously a wealthy person, and in this land wealth was more important than a name. It turned out I was about to experience my first period, so I was maybe more irritated than needed be.
"But they are good workers, Sir. I will only fire on gross misconduct. We are frail humans, and I should not have to remind YOU who's a pastor of the flock, what Our Master said in Matthew 7:1-3 'Judge not, lest you be judged' "
I am no good at reading that Book, but something is handy to remember, and I soon had an indirect hold on him.
He had a daughter named Els. Her mother, the minister's wife had some disease during pregnancy, probably the rubella , however it was generally accepted that handicapped children are an indication of sins of their fathers. Els was deaf and therefore dumb, and stowed away until I happened to notice her. I offered to take her as a servant. The parents were more than happy as that would imply one mouth less to feed (there were 13 in the household), and while she was a maid two stuiver per month would go to her parents. What I did not tell them was that within a years her wages increased to 48 stuiver per month - that was a full Guilder or Daalder (Yes it is the ancestor of the Dollar), and she could save quickly to a very substantial dowry. She started off as our maid, doing the chores inside the house and now I gave her more important tasks. She was careful, and soon ran quite essential parts of my production, like checking on the production of peroxide. She quickly learned to read and write, which is why I could use her, and I managed to make her speak.
I remember when I invited the Minister and his wife for a meal. They were kind of shocked when I let Els sit at the table.
"I don't ask her to do this very often, but remember she is your daughter- as such I can say that tonight she is a little bit a guest. Then you consider me a bit unconventional - so I will ask Els to say grace before we eat"
It was the first time they heard her speak, and it was a prayer- a fact that the Minister later used in his sermon.
My wealth was public knowledge as I build a house in Amsterdam, on the canal called Princen Grast (modern spelling Prinsen Gracht). The real-estate developer was more than happy to have found a buyer to the piece of land, as thousands had died in the plague. It was the same plague that hit London, but in Amsterdam it was easy to explain the plague as due to the digging of new canals in the bog around the city, releasing 'miasma' and illness. I was not aware of it then, but by owning properties in Amsterdam gave me 'citizenship' in the same city, and as it happened, it was owned 100% my myself. I became a poorter and this would eventually help me later. The only comment by the notary was that I was a bit young, but a substantial donation cleared the legal issues.
While some of the business otherwise was owned and run by the Zevenhuis Brothers, I made certain that “M Zevenhuis” was the owner of enough initiatives, to give me control. For the same reason, I was keeping the alcohol distilleries under my complete ownership. Paul was at the time travelling, so he was not available to co-sign, and it was my idea anyway.
I became known in more circles as I bought a ship. To be a shipowner gave prestige. With a ship I could get timber and ores from more specific places.
I was curious about what made the Minister (who had some good sides) so irritated about the Remonstrants. That branch of Calvinism was even forbidden to build churches, but I still don't understand what all the fuzz was about. Something about predestination. It was all these details about belief and disagreement that convinced me that we were not inside some computer created reality. A computer can simulate good an evil, but not the more irrational thinking that is called religion.
I employed many Remonstrants in the part of my business where I was the full owner. Paul was much more reluctant to be lenient, to say the least, but I was working on building acceptance and mutual trust.
In summary, I was mostly busy making a stinking lot of money, just like most of the patricians of this nation. The strong dyes I produced, were preferred at most courts, adding to the irritation of a dangerous foe living in a country further south. As it was rare, and in high demand, I got a good price for it, and the guild of drapers were happy, as I did not export the product, but helped them line their pockets.
There was a brewery in the town of Zwolle that was run by a German refugee called Hein from Westphalia, and he was difficult to convince to add something to his beer. German beer is chemical free, however his financial position was not good, so he swallowed his pride. We became partners - going Dutch 50/50, I also sponsored a line of export lager beer and added a secret ingredient: small crystals of ascorbic acid; the secret additive to beer, so it would travel better. As a joke I called the beer Little Hein, 'Heineken' and the name stuck. What is done is impossible to undo, still I thought it was regrettable.
A test made on a few trips by the merchantmen was a huge success for that brewery as not only did the beer last longer, but the sailors were in a better shape. The brewer was sure and certain it was because of his better brewing, and I would never tell him the true relationship, between scurvy and C-vitamin deficiency. A mild scurvy gives aches in the body, so no wonder the crews were fit when they kept their health. The ascorbic acid was produced by selecting a strain of yeast, so it was easy to combine it with the production of alcohol from potatoes, in the huge vats required for that.
Similar vats also produced the raw-material for a plastic-like protein that was used in our time for garbage-bags replacing the non- biodegradable plastic. As there was no rubber or plastic competing here I made quite a lot of coating for rain-wear. That was the first product we sold direct, as it was a more like a finished product. Sales was a bit difficult in the beginning. Lots of people are reluctant to change their ways unless they are really convinced that it is a lot better.
Just wished I knew a way to get my maleness back, a vat I could dip in and emerge a man again.
I travelled to Zwolle once in a while and one day noticed that something had changed. It took a while to discover that the highest tower on the large church had burned down. They had a problem. The main place of worship was so busy with religious service that it was difficult to manage There was a discussion on what to do, and I suggested that a separate tower be built - as the Grote Kerk was in constant use. I even gave money, and pledged more for this new tower. At least by not giving it all at once the city's mighty men could not use the money on other excellent projects like lining their own pockets. The guild of brewers contributed also, and this joint effort paved the way for a better cooperation between me, and some of the citizens of here. A kind of friendship grew between us, and the relationship with Hein grew. He married a local woman, and the child he had did not like the stepmother.
Hein trusted me enough to send his daughter Greta to be a maid before he could marry her off. She quickly showed some independence which I appreciated, and she liked to shoot, and hand-to-hand combat, and so on. It turned out she was quite a bit like me.
Before three years was gone we also produced some electronic gadgets; when you know how, it is fairly easy to make fancy electronic things. Graphene was one of the many game changers in the early XXIst century. It took over applications of silicone, and was so much easier to produce. The guys who made the first samples used a pencil and adhesive tape. It was kind of difficult to produce in larger amounts until a breakthrough came. I mentioned it to Paul, and he seemed to be totally uninterested, and without understanding of the implications.
I am constantly astounded by the fact that Paul should know this, but he didn't use his brains. On the other hand he was probing my memory for clues, if I remember my past as a child in Germany. He seemed to dwell more on that past, than I thought was wise. I then discovered he had been smoking hemp. It wasn't tobacco. I suddenly regretted sincerely that I encourage hemp growing by the farmers to improve on the production of rope. I would have to set him to do some serious work.
**** Paul's narration ****
I think Mike was over-rating this game. It was kind of boring. A bit like the much criticised Civ XII where it took ages to build up enough population, and development, and wonders. Still I enjoyed this illusion of walking again. The developers must have made huge strides in creating artificial reality. Some details like the itching after the lice, the midges and the leeches and gnats in the bogs, the hunger and thirst was extremely well rendered, but then I think this game was using building blocks form our memories. Mike had this idea it was more for real. But I give him credit for tenacity. He didn't have much choice, stuck in a female persona. Truth to be told. I had selected the option “Siblings” - there hadn't been that many options, and as it appeared only in two-player mode, I selected that one. It was a joke when I said the option was gremlins.
I was strong, I loved the sensation of using my whole body again. The work we got was manual labour. It was hard work, but it toned my muscles so I would say it paid off. To hold a musket for me was trivial, though I needed a fork to be able to aim with some accuracy. Mike barely could lift the same musket.
"Do you know what I really enjoy with this game?" I said to Mike.
"No"
"It's the fact that I feel so much alive, and it feels like I can walk again."
"But do you still believe it is a game? We have not come across other players, and these feel like real human being with their shortcomings, petty fights, They express hunger and love." Mike said.
"I am sure we will come across some other players. I just wish you did not insist on non-conforming so much"
"Conforming? Do I have have a choice - If they discover I am a girl they will deny me all possibilities to be a major player in the up-coming struggle!"
"Are you so sure it will be like that?"
"Nothing has me me change my mind, Remember how they treated us in Zutphen, Paul!"
In Zutphen they had discovered that Mike was cross dressing.
"But Mike, you are growing, and it will get easier to see your curves"
I shouldn't have said that, I realized much later, as Mike started a very strict regime.
My old mate, Mike, was gullible beyond reason. Mike in his new body was no better. She had bought the notion I had done some studying. I had failed at most things I tried. I even failed when I tried to be accepted in a biker's gang. It was during the initiation that I got shot, and ended up on welfare.
Our town Altana was tiny. It had not existed during the eighty year war for independence. So - although we were foreigners, and would probably be considered so, for a long time Mike's enterprising side was really making a change.
My experience with those games was the following: You team up with someone, acquire points, both individual and as a team, but be ready to team up with other players if necessary. It still irks me that Mike must have thousand points lead, for killing two adversaries single-handed. Whatever - it gives point to practice, and those matchlock muskets were difficult to load, and Mike couldn't handle them, so I assume I got some bonus points there. I was aiming for "upgrade" - that is to "become officer", so I could get points from my men too. I give thanks to Mike for making me aware of the fact that to become officer of a schuterij, you have to be a notable citizen - such as a town-council member or similar. In an established town that would be impossible, but this was a small town, with new ambitions, so there was room for a social climb without bumping anyone out.
So it was kind of normal that I took over the forge. Metallurgy is something that men should know about. The forge was not very large, but then we were producing weapon-grade steel. The raw material came in ingots from many places. Mike even managed to get Manganese and Titanium compounds. She had a trip to Cornwall to get minerals from those mines. She never made a trip there again. The smelter never made a profit due to the cost of making the guns, but big guns were the key to battle. Mike was sceptical about the biggest gun. I even think she put too much emphasis on a general sound economy. In times of war, the economy will collapse anyway.
I tried to reconstruct where we- should I say our bodies- came from. What I came up as a likely origin was East of Cologne. The Augsburg peace of 1648, ended the 30 year war, but the land was hence ruled by the Archbishop of Cologne, who also ruled Liège and Hildesheim, and his acolyte the Bishop of Münster, and they applied the rule of Cuius Regio, eius religio very strict. The Archbishop was bishop of the Roman Catholic church, so all his subject were supposed to be Catholics. We were not - I think. I had some memories of living in a relatively large house, and training with a horse, when some men came and and killed the men. I knew that my father was count von Arnsberg - Siebenbergen. That made me the new count didn't it? I had problems to remember all. It was kind of strange. My memories were hazy. Everyone fawned about Maria... Maria was my sister, whose body Mike was inside. Anyway, we had to flee. What war-parties lead nominally by Tilly and Wallenstein had not managed to ravage, was then totally smashed by the preachers. Not that bishops were known as princes of peace. If Mike remembered right, the Bishop would try to take northern part of the Netherlands, and that fight was going to be a golden opportunity to right the wrongs.
We did not need to work hard now, thanks to the steady income that Mike's wizardry with chemicals. Actually they called 'him' Het Tovenaar, if they didn't call him "te Famke". I don't know if she was aware of that. As a rule the first nickname was prevalent amongst the Dutch speakers, while the second nickname was used by the Frisians, though Mike even fooled me. One night we were on the beech with others to salvage wreckage, I saw her pee standing against the dune. I knew he didn't have the equipment for it, yet I saw her myself standing there in the light of a flickering torch. When we were alone I asked her how? She smiled, and said “A magician never reveals his tricks”. I think enough saw it so the Frisian nickname was never repeated within earshot.
We got access to an area - which was often used by beachcombers to collect shells. Not a popular move, but Mike solved the dilemma of taking away peoples source of livelihood, by hiring those women and girls that were collecting mussels and employing them to make the grenades. They had to learn how to mill brass and steel, but that was not yet considered to be a man's job, and we used the word spinnerij (spinning factory) rather than molen (mill) , so nobody thought it was weird we employed women. Lots of things can be acceptable by the right choice of words.
It took also time to build the right protection, like bunkers where the guns would be tested, and often wrecked as they were over-filled with black powder, or if a bullet jammed in the chamber. I wasn't too happy when Mike suggested we use the name Zevenhuis, picked from the name of the village that was subsiding, and all the cultivated land was unsuited for agriculture. Mainly because it was too similar to Siebenbergen. I was afraid Mike was going to be triggered to remember the name von Arnsberg zu Siebenbergen. Agents of the Prince-bishop could also see the connection, and continue to hunt us down. But the genie was out, so I tried to let it appear as if I didn't care.
I knew we had to appear devote to the mainstream religion. I thus made certain to be present in church on Sundays, even if I had actually better things to do. I already had managed to get some contacts through this outward devotion. Mike tried to avoid it as much as possible. I was reflecting on this game, and knew there was some points and maybe even clues to be gathered even here. I mean – they don't make this detailed scenario just for for the show. The sermon was long, and I almost lost concentration. Mike got herself a secretary and accountant, and she was looking after Mike's money with more care than her own baby. She would not allow me withdraw money from Mike's business. She was going to end her life as a spinster.
I resented a bit this German girl, the daughter of a beer brewer, as got responsibility for the large processing of potatoes, which was used to produce alcohol, but I have to admit she was efficient. For a while the spirits produced formed the largest source of our income, which proves that vice is beneficial for some. Just like gambling generates loads of money for the one who organize the gambling. Then there was the production of protective rain-gear that eventually would be a great source of income, but it started off a bit slow. The advantage from now on was that we had a surplus that was going into the war-chest.
I was also worried about a chancre in my privates.
I was tempted to out Mike, and take over, but on the other hand I didn't want to work day and night like Mike to make guns and ammunition for the war that nobody else believed in. I only knew that war would eventually happen. 'There will be war'. That is a certainty. Meanwhile, life is made to enjoy.
Give Mike credit for being inventive and industrious. She sent me to various places so we could get coal and anthracite, sulphur and tin, iron and copper. It was sometimes interesting, but when I protested she reminded me that I would soon have to raise an army of mercenaries, and I would therefore need contacts.
This village of Altena was nominally under the Count Henry Casimir of Nassau-Dietz, president or Stathouder of Friesland, but that must be quite a burden on a boy not yet a teen-ager, so his mother was the real President of the province. Knowing her opened many doors otherwise sealed by bureaucratic red-tape. I was stuck in Cornwall over Christmas, trying to negotiate a decent deal for tin and anthracite, and when I came back I heard that Mike had been received by the Countess, and had even spent some time at court.
Suddenly what was previously impossible became easy. Countess Albertine Agnes saw the need for an armament industry in the area, and gave her blessing - Most petitioners wanted also some sponsorship of the activity. Mike provided enough capital.
Mike was quite impressive. He started a program to have farmers raise war horses, by sponsoring the owners of mares to have foals. As he said: it takes 3 years before you can mount a foal, and two before it is usable as a warhorse. The deal was that the we paid the non-productive period when a mare could not work, and we paid for half the upkeep of the foal, to end up with half the value. The deals were very good for the farmers, and would lead to a glut in the market in 1672.
Due to the enterprising spirit we showed, and the broad dealings I had with the free farmers, through this deal of raising foals, I was requested to be a 'grietman', a kind of judge and governor. It may also the result of some good impression I made on the regent. It was very tempting. I had to decline, as my detailed knowledge of the law, was not up to the challenge. I think that was the reason Mike was invited to see the countess, together with his accountant, while I was not. Mike must have made a positive impression because she opened several doors that the administration had kept closed. Our tiny port got permission to build a modern shipyard, and what astounded the new-comers was the dry-dock. It was construed on the same thinking as a polder, but with the intent of flooding when the ship was build. I sold the yard to a shipwright, but we kept a large share in the company formed, and it was me that proposed to line the outside of the ship with a copper-plate. Actually I had read about the problem of growth on the ships (yes I did read at least one swashbuckler novel back in school) , particularly in tropical waters. A ships hull covered with barnacles, is affected by a significant drag, compared to the slick surface when it is built, and woodworm threatens any ship. So I remember reading in the book the solution that was used in the XVIIIth century: cover the hull with a copper-plate. It was Mike that came with this solution from our time: a nano technology based pain that works much like an expensive plating at a tenth of the cost of a full copper hull. As soon as the shipowners of the East India company discovered the magic properties of this, they ordered hundreds of barrels of the stuff, but that was much later. Mike purchased an English vessel, the Unity, a prize from the Raid on Medway. It was auctioned off as the Dutch navy could not easily use a ship with such a deep draught. It went into the dry dock to be refitted. It was used a few seasons in the service of the VOC, and then transported some goods from the Baltic.
Some of the women and girls working here were tough, and some of them formed the core of the small women's brigade that Mike wanted to have, just as I did use some from the forge's workforce for the same purpose. The toughest girls were those that once were collecting leeches for healing. They walked through the marches lifting their skirts, and let the blood-suckers get a bite on their body. They were not squeamish. But I don't know why Mike bothered. You just need regiments of men. Men are strong. Men fight. Men command. Women are weak. Women have to obey!
One last comment from me: you note that I use a female pronoun on Mike. She is a woman. I don't understand why they don't see it, and I don't care if Mike is outed at an awkward moment.
Comments
"I don't care if Mike is outed"
that's not good.
To be outed...
There are times when it is bad - some others when it is worse.
I suppose with Murphy's law it will be at the worse possible moment....
Seems to me
That Mike is settling in to the situation and taking a firm grip on his chances, while Paul just Doesn't Get It. I hope the "game" doesn't bite one or both due to that.
Teri Ann
"Reach for the sun."
paul's a jerk, doesn't think
paul's a jerk, doesn't think of anyone else but himself