"The chain-stitch sewing machine was invented in 1830. The lock-stitch machine came even later. Before that, all clothing was assembled by hand."
"But not all your costumes are this expensive. Not even close. What are you going to do? Hand spin the thread for this thing?"
Connie laughed. "No, although I've done that, too, on occasion, and spent hours at a loom hand weaving. Most costumes can be assembled by machine from the threads up. Even for pre-sewing-machine time periods, we can sometimes fudge. Take this."
She snagged an extraordinary gown from a peg. In three parts, it consisted of a coat-like overdress, a wide, skirt-like affair, and a triangular piece that was evidently meant to go across the front of the bosom, tapering to a point at the waist.
"This is an eighteenth-century English gown. One of our smaller gates opens into colonial Virginia every five years or so. It's due to open in about a month and a couple of researchers are going through for an extended sabbatical in Williamsburg." She chuckled. "Goldie Morran always makes a killing, exporting China metal to Williamsburg through whoever's going down time. The researchers carry the stuff through to help pay for their research trips."
"China metal?" Margo asked. "What on earth is that?"
"Ordinary nickel-silver," Malcolm grinned. "Not any silver in it, even. It's a base-metal alloy similar to German silver. It's used in cheap costume jewelry, junk trays and candlesticks, that sort of thing."
"Yes," Kit chuckled, "but in colonial Williamsburg it was worth as much as gold." His eyes twinkled. "Much like Connie's gowns."
Connie grinned. "Speaking of which ... This gown has seven-hundred eleven inches of seams alone, never mind hems for both skirts and the sleeves or the decorative stitching visible from the surface. I can do an average of ten inches of seam an hour by hand, against a few seconds by machine. If I fudge and set the computers to simulate the slight variations in hand stitching, I can assemble a whole gown in a few hours-except for decorative stitching, any quilting the customer wants, and so on. I can't do that by machine. Someone down time would notice. Fashion has always been closely studied, both by practitioners and by poorer folk who want to ape the newest styles in cheaper versions. So some of it can't be fudged.
"Now, with your Palmyrene costume, I can't fudge anything. It'll take hours and hours of work to complete. I won't have to hand spin or weave, but the embroidery alone will be murder. I'll have to pull a couple of assistants off other jobs to finish it in time."
"Which is expensive," Margo sighed. "I guess," she said, giving Kit and Malcolm a hang-dog look, "I'd better not get it dirty, huh?"
Malcolm, like Kit and Connie, had laughed.
But now, the overly cautious way Margo moved told Malcolm she was terrified of ruining Connie Logan's exquisite creation.
"Margo," he said, "one piece of advice."
She glanced up, trying to avoid a dusty stack of wine jars. "What's that?"
"That costume is meant to be lived in. It may have been expensive, but it isn't a museum piece. Keep walling around like that and some Roman snob is going to think you're a puer delicatus for sale."
Margo's face registered absolute bafflement.
"Pretty boys brought twice as much at the slave markets as pretty girls, whether they were destined for a brothel or a private bed."
Lips and eyes went round with shock.
"This isn't Minnesota. It isn't London, either. Morals here aren't at all what they are up time. Not even remotely close. Neither are the laws. So don't go mincing around as if you're afraid to smudge your clothes. You're a wealthy young foreigner, son of a merchant prince in one of the richest caravan states the desert ever produced. Act like it."
She closed her mouth. "Okay, Malcolm."
"Study wealthy Romans on the street for body language. That isn't the same here, either. Neither are common gestures like nodding and shaking your head.
To indicate yes, tip your head back. To indicate no, tuck your chin." He demonstrated. "Shake your head side to side and a Roman will wonder what s wrong with your ears."
"What if I screw up?"
"Intelligent question. Romans were notoriously rude about their cultural superiority. If you make any minor errors, they'll put it down to a rank provincialism without the saving graces of intelligence, manners, or culture."
"Worse than the Victorians?"
"Lots worse," Malcolm said dryly.
"Too bad. It's a horrid thing to say about people who invented ... well, lots of things."
Malcolm sighed. -Margo, you really have to study."
"I know! I am studying. I'll study more when we get back! At least I can now tell you everything Francis Marion ever did, said, or thought!"
Still a sore subject. He was sorry, indeed, that she and Kit had fought about it. All La-La land had buzzed with the gossip when Margo had walked out of the Delight and headed for the library in tears-leaving Kit so rattled a down timer, for God's sake, had nearly gotten the better of him in a hand-to-hand with a croquet mallet. That was the primary reason Malcolm was here: to convince her how important those studies were. Malcolm took his job seriously.
Then he had to stifle a grin: If the Hilaria and Ludi Megalenses didn't convince Margo she needed to study, nothing would.
A Time Tours guide opened the outside door again to communicate with employees in the wineshop proper. The roar of noise from the Via Appia just beyond caused a wave of excited laughter to ripple its way back through the tourists. The soundproofed door closed and the Time Tours guide stepped onto a crate to command attention.
"As you know, we'll all be staying at the inn we've purchased in the Aventinus district, west of the Baths of Decius and southwest of the Temples of Minerva and Luna. That's very close to the Circus Maximus, in the heart of the sacred district, so we're not far from it now. We'll go there first. It's vital that everyone know how to find it. If you get lost, find the Circus and you can find the inn again. The most important instruction I have for you is simple: Don't get separated from your guides! There are more than a million people living in Rome right now, not to mention the thousands more who've crowded in for the Games of the Magna Mater.
You don't know the language or the customs. If you lose your guide, you could find yourself in fatal trouble very fast. Our porters will carry your luggage, since neither free-born men nor free-born women carried their own parcels. You've already been warned not to venture out after dark. Rome is a deadly city by night.
Not even the ruling classes walk the streets after dark.
Now... are there any questions?"
"What do we do after you show us the hotel?" a man near the center of the group asked.
"You've already been assigned to your tour groups. Each group will follow an itinerary based on the selections you made at the time station. Today is the Sacrifice of Attis, with an historic first procession of the sacred pine, plus the regular annual celebrations and the dedications of new priests. Three days from now the Hilaria begins. The Ludi Megalenses games begin on April fourth and will continue through the tenth, with Circus games and races daily. Chariot races, horse races, and bestiaries are scheduled for the mornings, gladiatorial combats for the afternoons.
"As you know, when the Games open, it will be arena seating"-another ripple of laughter went through the crowd at the silly pun-"so we'll need to find seats quickly to be assured of places. Be ready to enter the Circus by sunrise. The gate back to the time terminal reopens shortly after midnight on the eleventh. You'll probably be exhausted-so don't arrive late!"
"What about the lottery?"
The speaker was another man, near the edge of the crowd.
"We've already drawn the winners of the Messalina lottery but we won't announce the results until tomorrow As you know, there will be only three winners and the liaisons have to be carefully arranged by our employee in the Imperial palace. With Claudius in town, these trysts have to be set up with care. The winners, as you know, are not guaranteed a night with the Empress Messalina has the right to refuse any lover she wants, but her tastes in men are generally broad enough we don't anticipate any problems. After all, she does sleep with Claudius."