David nodded. "So they took them and found that they could spend them at home because their neighbors felt the same way. We have the reputation, the 'Prince of Germany.' More widespread now, if less holy. The problem is, we don't have the stuff to sell. There's sort of a critical mass that money has to reach before it works and I'm not sure the Prince of Germany gets there all by himself."
"We own that property in Zielona Gora," Sergeant Beckmann said.
"Yes, but it's in Zielona Gora," David said. "Sure, it will start providing us some income once the set costs are paid, but it's a long way away for the people around here to get to."
Sergeant Beckmann hesitated then shook his head and asked, "How long are we going to be here?"
"I don't know, but probably some months," David said. He was pretty sure that the sergeant had been about to ask about diverting the goods for Zielona Gora to here then stopped himself. He was learning. "I think we were sent here to get the Third Division out of the way now that the Crown Loyalists have control of the government. So it could be years. Until the next election." Then David realized the import behind the question. "Sergeant, we are probably going to be sitting right here when the people we have bought stuff from using the beckies come into town to buy stuff using the beckies and we had better have stuff to sell them. Even if we weren't going to be here, leaving the people in this region holding a bunch of worthless paper isn't something the general would sanction, nor something I'd do even under direct orders.
"Yes, sir!" Sergeant Beckmann said, sounding quite sincere. He was really good at that, David noted. "I never thought of doing anything like that, sir. My question was more along a different line. We were just getting started setting up shop in Poland when we got sent here. I was only wondering if we'd have time to set up here and get things running before we got ordered off to somewhere else."
"That's a point, Master David," Johan Kipper said. "The prince, he moves fast for a general, that he does. We probably need to move pretty fast ourselves, in case we need to move before we expect."
David nodded. "All right. Let's get in touch with the king's financial people, since he probably owns this place, and see if we can buy it. Johan, you do that. You're still on the boards of HSMC and half a dozen other Grantville firms. If we can't buy it, find out what we can buy in the area. We're going to need a store to go with the catalog sales. Meanwhile, if we're going to issue beckies, they ought to have a picture of Rebecca Stearns on them. See if you fellows can find a picture of her. I guess we'll have to send to Grantville and have one of the machine shops cut us some plates."
"I think . . . there may be another way," said Sergeant Beckmann. "There's a wood carver with the printing group who makes woodcuts on the side, prints them up for the men. He calls them centerfolds. I don't know why."
David knew why and so did Johan.
Johan muttered, "He'd better not have a centerfold of Becky Stearns or I don't want to be anywhere near him when the general finds out."
The sergeant mumbled something about, "Well, maybe the one of Rebecca Stearns is a pinup, not a centerfold. I'm not really sure what the difference is. Sometimes the guy calls them one, sometimes he calls them the other. Centerfolds and celebrity pinups. He has maybe ten of the celebrity pinups and twenty centerfolds. He runs a little business on the side."
Which was something that Sergeant Beckmann would naturally be familiar with. "Two things, Sergeant. There are laws . . ." David stopped. There were laws up-time and even up-time, if he was remembering right, pictures of celebrities were all over the place, Whether the celebrities wanted them there or not. And Rebecca Abrabanel had had her own TV show. For all David knew this artist of Sergeant Beckmann's acquaintance wasn't doing anything wrong. And if he was, probably the worst crime they could get him on was misuse of Third Division property. "Never mind. Find your artistic friend and bring him here with all his plates. Not just of Rebecca, all of them.
****
As it turned out David's fears were mostly groundless. The naked ladies sold better in the army, but the crew of that printing press sold what might be called celebrity portraits, including Mike and Rebecca, Princess Kristina and Gustav Adolph. Most of which were fairly modest. They also sold some nudes. Miss November of 1992 was quite popular. So were pictures from up-time, the Statue of Liberty, the Eiffel Tower, and others. They carried the plates with the press and had a few prints to show around. When someone wanted one, they printed it up using the printing press and supplies. They also had a pantograph and other tools.
The picture of Becky was from her talk show in 1631. David remembered the show. He thought he might even remember the particular show. It was one where she was talking about how electric circuits worked and how dangerous they could be. But she was standing up and tracing a circuit so she had one arm up. And she was looking out of the picture with that serious, caring expression of hers. David told the guy to use the picture of Becky and maybe the Statue of Liberty.
David was figuring the picture of Becky on the front of the bill and the picture of the Statue of Liberty on the back, but he didn't specify that. The bills were to be four up-timer standard inches by eleven standard inches. Mainly because at the moment they didn't have the equipment to make the detailed plates they would have preferred. And because they were going to need to print assurances on the bills. At least David thought they would. Unlike the American money, they would all have the same images on them, no matter the denomination.
David got busy with other things, mostly having to do with getting the becky recognized as money on the currency exchanges in Grantville, Magdeburg, Venice, and Amsterdam. Well, Prague too. Nobody much outside Bohemia cared all that much about the Prague exchange, but Third Division was stationed in Bohemia just at the moment. David was pretty successful in the important places, but there were political complications in Prague.
By the time he got back to the actual currency, it was way past too late to change anything. The image went long-ways. Becky was ten inches tall from the top of the torch she was holding aloft to the bottom of her gown. The gown was green but the face and arms were flesh tone. The hair was black and the headdress was golden as though her head was surrounded with a halo of golden flames. It was a work of art, especially since it had been done in just a week, from disparate parts of other images.
And David Bartley had the sudden conviction that Rebecca Stearns was never going to forgive him for it. The general would probably like it, and if David knew Francisco Nasi-and he did-the financer/spy would be too busy laughing to take offence. But Rebecca herself? Well, David had only met her a few times but he had the impression of a basically private person. One who only ended up on the public stage when forced there. These, in their hundreds and thousands, would force her there in a way both more widespread and permanent than anything else he could think of.
If the beckies lasted as a currency-and David was really starting to think that they might-then a dark-haired Jewish girl was about to become the embodiment of the German spirit. As soon as possible, David was going to send to Grantville and have one of the machine shops make up some good steel engraving plates with all the little curlicues that make forging more difficult. But they would use these as the model. And start collecting them up as the new ones came online. In the meantime, they used a four-step process of offset printing to print the bills and each bill was numbered. The bills would be forgeable, but not easily.
****
"Captain Bartley. How did you get the contract for the winter uniforms for Third Division?"
"It's complicated, Lieutenant Kappel."
"It's an official request for information, Captain. I have to ask."