Although the popular vote was rather closely contested, the Crown Loyalist victory was much more pronounced in terms of seats won in the House of Commons. They would wind up with a clear majority of the seats. Not much of a majority-fifty-two percent-but enough so that they wouldn't need to form a coalition government with any of the small parties.
Again, that was no real surprise. The Fourth of July Party had a pronounced advantage in the cities and bigger towns, while the CLs enjoyed an offsetting strength in most of the rural areas. There were some exceptions, like Franconia and much of Mecklenburg, but not many. What that often meant, however, was that much of the FoJP victory in the cities was effectively wasted. It didn't matter whether a district was won by fifty-one percent or eighty-one percent, after all. Either way, it was still just one district.
So, often enough, the FoJP would win a single seat in a city by a landslide, only to see it offset by a much smaller margin of victory by the CLs in a rural district.
To some extent, the results were a reflection of the compromises that Mike Stearns had made with Gustav Adolf when the USE was created in the beginning, in the fall of 1633. The emperor had been able to force through a number of provisions that would obviously be to the advantage of the more conservative areas and sectors of the new nation.
Still, there was no point in complaining or crying foul. The fact remained that the Crown Loyalists had won more of the popular vote than the FoJP, even if they hadn't won an outright majority and even if the political structure of the USE favored them in terms of seats. They had every right under the democratic principles that Mike Stearns advocated and championed himself to replace him as the head of government with one of their own-and he said so in a short and gracious concession speech once the election results were finally announced. The speech was played live over the radio and reprinted in every newspaper in the nation.
"We were planning to stay longer, this time, Ronnie. Honestly, we were."
"Still, you are going. Without the children."
"I'm willing to plead. I'm willing to grovel." Jeff grinned, in a desperate sort of way. "Gretchen has to get back. It's a crisis now, but it could get a lot worse. There's plenty of blame being flung around, and some of it's landing where it doesn't belong. Spartacus is trying to be a voice of reason. Hell, he is a voice of reason. But.. ."
Jeff stopped and started over.
"Nobody knows who had Henry and Reverend Wiley killed. Or why. So if it was just that, it wouldn't be too hard for her to keep a handle on it. But the synagogue demonstration was worse, because it wasn't a one-time thing. There's been agitation for years and it hasn't stopped. Whoever is churning those pamphlets out is still churning them. Somebody's got to identify those guys and put a lid on it. Pretty permanently. And it's not being made easier when a lot of the Crown Loyalist partisans keep giving interviews saying that as soon as Wettin comes into office, he's going to roll back this reform and roll back that reform. Not always agreeing with one another either. It depends on what he promised to who, and when he did it."
"When are you going to take the children?"
"After the transfer of power, maybe. That's June. If the transfer goes smoothly. If it looks like Wettin can manage the guys who keep howling about 'backward, turn backward, o Time in thy flight.' If.. ."
"If you are not away in Gustavus Adolphus' great war on the eastern front. If you are not dead in his great and magnificent campaign. You are in the army. Which I have not forgotten. You could well be dead by then. If Gretchen has not been dragged down in this political crisis. If…"
Nicol reached out and put a hand on Veronica's shoulder.
"Tante," he said placatingly. "Tante, if those things should happen, then it is far better that the children should be here with you. With us. Not lost with them."
Veronica turned and left the room.
Francisco Nasi sat on the train. Reading, in spite of the rough roadbed that caused him to push his glasses up every few minutes.
While he was in Grantville, he would have to see McNally and get the frames adjusted. He made a note on a small pad.
Then he went back to reading. Ed Piazza was conscientious about sending all the information that the Grantville police had gathered. Magdeburg had some advantages, in the sense of being the center, for the time being, of his web of contacts. Sometimes, though, there was nothing quite as good as being on the scene oneself.
Chapter 53
Grantville
Bryant Holloway heard about it all, of course. He'd been busy at work, but no one could have missed it. It had been all over the radio and papers last week. He'd even been interviewed by a reporter in Naumburg, for the "up-time reaction" to it.
He'd told the reporter that his reaction was, "damn the Krauts." Attacking the hospital, attacking the synagogue, killing Mayor Dreeson and Reverend Wiley.
It was all the fault of the Krauts. Just like the vote about moving the capital of the State of Thuringia-Franconia to Bamberg.
For which he had received an official reprimand. Representatives of the USE Fire Marshall's Office should not say such things for publication.
"That's how Stannard would have it. Sure. 'The Krauts are our allies. The Krauts are our fellow citizens. The Krauts are our friends.' Talk about a party line. Talk about being expected to hew to the party line."
So here he was, driving back into Grantville in the fire department's pickup truck that he used on out of town assignments, and practically the first thing he saw was Lenore, coming out of the administration building, standing in the street, talking to one of them. A man. A young man. A Kraut. For a married woman, going to work was nothing but a chance to find men and a chance at extracurricular sex.
He would take care of that this evening.
Lenore saw Bryant looking at her as he passed. She remembered what she had promised, turned, and went back to the office.
"Almost everyone in the office is a woman," Lenore said. "Count them, Bryant."
"The Americans are mainly women. But that guy was a Kraut. This is where we came in, I think."
"His name is Nicolas Moser. He's married to Mrs. Dreeson's niece, I think. Or her first husband's niece. They have a baby; she's a few months old."
"Which is probably why he's looking for something on the side. I remember what it was like for us when Weshelle was that age."
"You're making things up. That's what it amounts to. You're looking for excuses to blame me for things that don't exist. I was congratulating him on his promotion. That's all."
"I'm not about to forget that someone was there before me. Since you did that, what's to say that there won't be someone there next to me, too? Especially being out of town so much. With the way your family collects Krauts."
"Stop using that word. It's derogatory. Like the 'N-word' was. I read that interview you gave and I know that Steve Matheny issued a statement repudiating it. Not just Archie Stannard. Clara doesn't deserve it. Neither does Katerina or Gertrude. They're… they're family now. Not aliens. Family. Almost family, at least, for Katerina and Gertrude."
Bryant started to get up and come toward her.
She moved. "Stay right there."
He was startled enough by her tone of voice that he sat back down.
She opened a drawer. He wouldn't have been surprised if she was dumb enough to pull a knife or something on him. She wouldn't get very far with that. She was tall for a woman, granted, but not unusually strong. It was very easy to turn a knife on the person holding it and create an unfortunate accident.
Instead, it was a little plastic tube.
She took off the top, turned the base, and set it on the kitchen table in front of him. "Do you know what that is?"