1636： The Saxon Uprising ARC - By Eric Flint Page 0,117

from the first moment they met him. Who would have guessed such cunning lurked beneath?

After the plane was down and was taxiing toward the crowd waiting for them at the airfield’s terminal building, Ulrik leaned forward. “That was well done, Herr Junker,” he said, over the pilot’s shoulder.

“Yes!” agreed Kristina. She was sitting in the other seat in front, next to the pilot. “It was a wonderful flight!”

Junker glanced back and smiled. There was more intelligence in that glance and that smile than the prince would have expected, too. The pilot’s expression managed to convey, simultaneously, his appreciation for the compliment; his understanding that it was really a compliment on his political and not piloting skills; and his amusement—not derision, simply amusement—at the nine-year-old princess’ misunderstanding.

Ulrik spent the rest of the time until they came to a stop wondering how much an airplane like this would cost. Surely it would be within the budget of a prince?

They’d need to support a pilot as well, he realized. This was only the second time Ulrik had ever been aloft in an airplane. The first time had been a brief ride during the Congress of Copenhagen, whose sole purpose had been thrill-seeking. The truth was, he hadn’t particularly enjoyed it, because he’d been too nervous. Now that he’d flown a second time, as part of an actual journey with a real purpose, he had a much better sense of the business. It would be far better to have a regular pilot, especially one who was no dullard when it came to political affairs.

Junker brought the plane to a stop. Again, Ulrik leaned over his shoulder. “I am giving some thought to buying an airplane. Would you be available as a pilot?”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, Ulrik!” Kristina clapped her hands.

Junker gave him another smile full of subtleties. “I’m afraid not, Your Highness. I’m rather committed to my current employer.”

The smile faded a bit. “And I had to leave my betrothed behind in Dresden. Now I’ll need to figure out a way to get her and her friends out of there.”

“Ah.” Ulrik glanced out the window. The crowd of notables was still waiting. Probably for the propeller to stop spinning, he imagined. He certainly would have waited. That thing could carve a man up like a warrior out of legend. Of course, you’d have to walk right into it—but in the press of a crowd, such things could happen.

He had a few seconds left, and it never hurt for a prince to scatter favors about.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “Write down their names for me, if you would.”

Junker cocked an eyebrow. Ulrik started removing his shoulder straps. “You never know. I might have some influence, here and there.”

“Thank you. I will.”

The crowd was moving in, now. There was a handy up-time expression for this sort of thing, but Ulrik couldn’t quite remember what it was.

“Showtime,” said Junker.

Yes, that was the one.

Even before they entered the city, Ulrik was impressed. Whoever had organized this affair had done a superb job of it.

To begin with, they were in a motorcade, riding in a large up-time automobile rather than the carriage he’d expected. Two other American self-propelled vehicles were with them, one in front and one behind. As a sheer public display, it was splendid. But Ulrik also understood—all the better now, for having been the target of such an attempt—that the vehicles and their configuration would make things quite difficult for assassins seeking to do them harm. The automobiles were moving quite slowly, not much faster than a horse could trot. But if necessary, they could speed up rapidly and soon be racing down the road at a tremendous velocity.

Given the road, of course. On most roads, even in the USE, the great speed of which up-time automobiles were capable was a moot point. But this road from the airfield into the city was obviously of up-time design, macadamized from beginning to end.

Secondly, the organizers of the event had made sure to have a large number of spectators and well-wishers even here, while they were still in the countryside. A surprisingly large number, given the weather. The sky was clear, true—indeed, it was quite a beautiful winter’s day. But it was definitely a winter’s day, with the temperature below freezing. Ulrik didn’t envy those people standing alongside the road out there. The automobile had a heating device. The outdoors didn’t.

Thirdly, he was impressed by the shrewdness of the seating arrangement. In the front