Grantville Gazette Volume XI by Eric Flint

Author:Eric Flint [Flint, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-03-25T22:00:00+00:00

"I don't believe in right of kings,

good blood, bad blood, silly things.

I don't believe in stories told

of maidens weak and knights of old.

That might is right and weak is wrong,

or God's word can't be set in song.

That life and love are some cruel jest,

or some are simply born the best,

But I believe in love.

I believe in freedom.

I believe tomorrow's hope,

'Cause I believe in you."

* * *

The response was surprisingly fast for a world that mostly lacked telephone and telegraphs. The VOA was deluged with requests for the song. First from the area right around Grantville, then, as the days passed, from villages and towns all over the VOA's listening area.

They had thought they were ready. Trommler Records had a lot of prints ready for shipping. They sold them in the first three days. Eventually, it became the first gold record in the new history by passing the half million records mark without even slowing to look as it passed. It took some time to pass that milestone, mostly because of the time it took to stamp the records.

Of course, by then the Barbie Consortium had run off to Vienna, leaving Els' career in the capable hands of the Gertrude Schmidt Talent Agency. Sometimes called "Gerty's T&A" because of the large number of young ladies it had signed, it was listed as GSTA on the Grantville exchange. The Barbie Consortium, as might be expected, owned a fair chunk of that stock. Trommler Records was left with a down-timer merchant as the CEO and Els' Uncle Heinrich as the vice president of the Entertainment Division. Herr Trommler was now VP of News and Education.

* * *

Jost von Reinhart was not a happy camper. He had a fair number of singers under contract but since Els Engle's hit, the label of choice for aspiring artists was Trommler. Old Folk's songs, while not selling quite so well, were selling, and so were recordings from the new talents TR had signed. Even the silly speeches were selling better.

Fuming, he pushed the button to call for the next course. He was already in a foul mood. That mood was not improved when the butler carried in the next course. Whistling. That song.

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