"I believe, Your Majesty," Count Duke Olivares said, "if I read the communication from Cardinal Bedmar correctly, that by being king 'in' the Netherlands, he claims that precedence only when he is within his own territories, and when foreign monarchs call upon him there. If, however, it should chance that he had some reason to make a state visit to Spain, he would come as an Infante of Spain and Your Majesty's younger brother. It is a fine distinction, perhaps."
"Fine or not, it is a declaration of independence."
" De facto, yes. But not quite de jure. Considering that, officially, the Spanish Netherlands are still governed by your aunt. The situation may well change upon the death of Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia."
"Why," Philip IV demanded, "did Urban VIII grant the dispensations?"
"Because our envoys were not able to prevent it," Olivares said frankly. "Nor did we have military forces close enough to Rome to send them there promptly enough to persuade the pope that his decision was not at all wise."
"We will remember his action."
"Yes, Your Majesty. That is a given."
"Ecclesiastically, you say, the dispensations are impeccable?"
"I am quite persuaded that Urban set the very best of his canon lawyers to studying the matter," Olivares answered.
"Fernando's children then, by Maria Anna, will be impeccably legitimate, from a dynastic point of view?"
"It would be almost impossible to get any other interpretation of the situation accepted. Barring, of course, denying the legitimacy of Urban VIII's election as pope." Olivares paused. "Nor am I sure that, in the long run, it would be to the interest of the House of Habsburg to make the attempt."
The king looked at him.
"I have provided you with the information, Your Majesty. In that other world, the queen died ten years from now. Your subsequent children by her, born in those ten years, were girls-although that is not to say that this will be the same in our new future. Still, we cannot rely fully on the hope of additional sons. Don Balthasar Carlos died, two years after her death. You remarried. The son born to your second marriage was incompetent to rule, incapable of begetting children. And Spain fell to the Bourbons."
"France." Philip IV looked at his chief minister. "Anything but France, Gaspar. Anything but France. And Balthasar Carlos, according to the information you have brought me, died of smallpox. Introduce these up-time measures against smallpox into Spain. Now. We have a dozen years to ensure that, by the mercy of the holy mother, her son, and all of the saints, Balthasar Carlos does not die."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"And there is still my brother Carlos. The Grand Admiral still stands as a buffer between Fernando's offspring and Spain. We should be grateful for the arrival of Grantville, I suppose, since the political complications prevented our planned trip to Barcelona. It was in Catalonia that he contracted typhus, even though he died after our return to Madrid. Damned Catalans. Too many forget Carlos."
Olivares tightened his lips. He and the king's next younger brother, second in line for the throne after the little prince Balthasar Carlos, were political opponents. He needed to say something neutral. Inoffensive. Philip IV had grown up with his younger brothers as his primary companions. They had studied together. Hunted together. There was a-camaraderie-there, with both of them, that he found difficult to overcome. "In that other world, Your Majesty, Don Carlos died young. Two years ago, of typhus. Not quite twenty-five years old. The authors of the encyclopedias in Grantville appear, almost, to have forgotten him."
"This world, perhaps, will remember him better." The king of Spain rose from his chair, smiling thinly. "In any case, Gaspar, whatever your personal opinions, we must thank God that he is still alive and begin serious negotiations for his marriage. Under the circumstances, our cousin Cecelia Renata would be the best choice. However, there are others. Wladyslaw's half-sister in Poland. Anna de' Medici. Let one of the court painters begin the process of obtaining portraits."
Olivares nodded. "Velasquez would be the best choice. Since we have learned that Rubens undertook this office for the 'king in the Netherlands,' it would be disadvantageous to Spain's royal prestige not to utilize a Spanish artist with equivalent prestige to undertake the preliminary contacts. Not that we can disguise the purpose of his efforts for long, in any case."
"Let it be Velasquez, then. In the interval, in regard to my youngest brother, it is clearly too late for us to enforce my father's will. If Fernando will not become a priest to say masses for the soul of Philip III, then at least let him breed Spain heirs that are Habsburg rather than French. But we will deal with Urban VIII, who permitted this while he had broken off diplomatic relations with us, supposedly over the problems in Naples. Had intentionally broken them off, I am sure, to enable him to permit this. If, in fact, he did not instigate it."
Rome
"I am not sure," Urban VIII said, "that I care for radio as a means of communication. Every morning, every evening. These messages are like having a drummer constantly beating a rhythm in one's bedchamber. The worst is that the operators acknowledge to one another that they have received the messages as well as sent them. Which means, of course, that one cannot pretend, when convenient, that a letter must have been delayed in the mail."
"What is the decision of the canon lawyers?" Cardinal Francesco Barberini asked. "Are these messages valid dispensations, or must Don Fernando and Archduchess Maria Anna wait for paper copies?"
"I sign the dispensations," the pope answered wryly, " before the radio operators send their versions bounding and bouncing through the air. The question, therefore, does not come up. Naturally, we will forward the signed paper copies, but the signature becomes valid when I place it on the document-not when the document arrives at its destination."
"Naturally," Cardinal Francesco admitted.
Father General Vitelleschi said. "Cardinal Mazzare tells me that up-time it was literally possible to have this radio beating a rhythm all the time. Father Kircher has confirmed this. A town did not just have one receiver, as the up-timers do here. Every carriage, every home, had these receivers. The broadcasters, if they had nothing significant to say, played music. Bad music often, and very loudly."
"Whether you wanted it or not?" Cardinal Antonio Barberini the younger asked.
"It was possible to 'turn it off'," Vitelleschi answered. "I am sure that I shall shortly understand it all better, when we open our own broadcasting station. Almost, I am tempted to travel to Germany, just to listen to it. Or, perhaps, if we are successful with Loyola University of the North and its radio, we could build one here in Rome."
Urban VIII blanched.
"Or possibly, just outside the borders of Venice. It might be quite useful in explaining to the republic's citizens that their rulers do not tell them 'the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.'"
"Surely," Father Vitelleschi persisted, "we will want more than one."
"Speaking of the mail," Cardinal Antonio Barberini the elder interposed, "I have received a very outraged letter from Dekan Golla in Munich. He informs us that Archduchess Maria Anna definitely did not leave the golden rose behind in her oratory when she left the Munich Residenz. He demands that the holy father write her and insist upon its return."
"On the theory that marriage to Don Fernando is likely to be considerably more of a pleasure for her than marriage to Duke Maximilian?" Cardinal Antonio the younger asked. "Fernando is actually not bad looking. Certainly less prune-like."
Vitelleschi looked at him.
He looked down.
"The rose was bestowed," Urban VIII said, "for extraordinary services to the church. Perhaps we should bide our time in the matter. If, of course, it has not simply been lost. Or stolen and melted down."