Age Of Unreason - Newton's Cannon - LightNovelsOnl.com
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duke of Orleans and your appointment to the academy?"
"I do."
"Then you will understand why I must ask you what you and the d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans
had to discuss yesterday, shortly before the tragedy."
Despite herself, Adrienne felt a stab of anger. "Pleasantries, sir," she said, "nothing more. I was seated next to her."
"Yes, I know. I seated you there myself, wondering what might pa.s.s between you. Now,
be honest with me. What did she tell you?"
Adrienne frowned. "Do you suspect the d.u.c.h.ess?"
Torcy scowled. "The duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans have been suspected before. When the first dauphin died, and the duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Burgundy. It was said that they might have been poisoned."
"The king never believed that," Adrienne said.
"Oh? So you defend the d.u.c.h.ess then?"
"No," Adrienne said, but was astonished to discover that she wanted to. "No, if the d.u.c.h.ess conspired to a.s.sa.s.sinate the king, then I wish only G.o.d's pity on her, for she shall get none from me. I simply state the facts: the king never believed that the duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans were guilty of murder. In fact, he never believed that there was murder at all, but blamed some strange disease."
"And how would you know this, my dear? You were but nine years of age."
"I remember, Monsieur. The d.u.c.h.ess of Burgundy came often to Saint Cyr. Years later, when I was Madame de Maintenon's secretary, those ugly rumors still flourished. But if the king did not credit them and the queen did not credit them, I don't see why I should."
Torcy took a deep breath. She noticed that his hands were clenched and his knuckles white.
"To be truthful," Torcy admitted evenly, "I never believed those stories either. I believe that the three dauphins and the d.u.c.h.ess died of a malignancy-measles or scarlet fever, perhaps. But now I must consider every possibility. And I must consider you, Mademoiselle."
"I had no part in this murder," Adrienne insisted. "I know nothing except what I witnessed."
"Tell me what you witnessed, then."
Adrienne related everything she could remember, including her conversation with the d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans, omitting only the pa.s.sing of the note and its contents.
Torcy nodded. "You tell me nothing that I did not already know, but I thank you for your testimony," he said. He then bowed and turned to leave.
"Please, Monsieur, one more moment of your time."
Torcy sighed tiredly. "Yes?"
"The king has moved the academy here, to Versailles, I hear?"
"True, and I approve," Torcy replied. "This puts the scientifics more closely under my
scrutiny."
"I wish to return to my appointment working for Monsieur de Duillier."
"Impossible, at the moment," Torcy said.
"I am told that the king is most anxious about this particular research," Adrienne
persisted. "I wish to do my part."
Torcy glared at her. "If you had any idea what you were asking-"
"You suspect one of the philosophers," Adrienne interrupted.
Torcy's mouth hung open for an instant. "What makes you say that?" he demanded, his
voice curiously strained.
"First, you clearly suspect the duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans, the only members of the
court with any real knowledge of science. Second, anyone with more brains than a jacka.s.s-you will excuse me, Monsieur-could see how this murder was committed."
Torcy's face was a rigid mask, and then, suddenly, he laughed.
"What an astonis.h.i.+ng young woman," he remarked, smiling. "My general opinion of
astonis.h.i.+ng young women is that they should be kept in convents or chains. But tell me, my dear, how was the dauphin killed?"
"This is only guesswork, though I know how to confirm what I guess."
"Goon."
"May I please send away Helen and Charlotte? And may the door be closed?"
Torcy did not hesitate; he waved impatiently for the two girls to go.
"Well?" he said, when the door was closed.
"It was the flameless lantern," she explained, "the one above the king's throne."
Torcy made no remark. She lowered her eyes and plunged ahead. "The lantern works by alchemical reaction; the surface of the orb loosens the affinity in the air that keeps lux and gas bound together."
"Goon."
"Air is composed of three atoms of gas in ferment with a single atom of lux and two of phlegm. The lamp liberates the lux atom, so that the remaining compound is an inert gas, harmless. But if you were to liberate a lux atom bound to one of gas, the result would be a discharge of lightning. If you liberated lux bound to two atoms of gas, or even, I think, with phlegm in the right arrangement-then, Monsieur, you produce flame."
Torcy narrowed his eyes. "Are you telling me that the flameless lamp was somehow altered so as to set the air itself on fire?"
"Exactly," Adrienne acknowledged.
Torcy turned his back on her. He clasped his hands tightly behind his back and paced over to the window.
"Swear to me," he said, without turning, "swear by G.o.d and by the soul of your father that you know nothing of this matter save what you have guessed."
"I swear by G.o.d and I swear by the soul of my father that what you say is true."
Torcy turned as abruptly as a snake striking and crossed to her in five strides. His eyes burned into hers from two inches away; his breath was hot. "Swear it again."
"Why?" Adrienne asked, her voice as strong and steady as she could make it. "You do not believe me."
"No," he said. "No, but I am about to place my trust in you, and I want to know that if you lie, you will be d.a.m.ned for that as well as for your other crimes."
"Very well," Adrienne answered. It was hard to hold his basilisk gaze, but she managed it. "I swear by G.o.d and my father that I had no part in the murder of the dauphin and the blinding of the king."
Torcy held her gaze as if he had impaled her through the eyes with daggers and now twisted them to see what would ooze from her head. But after a moment, he nodded sharply.
"I accept your oath. I will arrange for you to continue your work with Monsieur de Duillier. But I want something more from you." He paused and stepped back. "I want you to discover who did this. Discover it and tell me."
Adrienne's mouth felt like paper. She simply nodded.
"Mademoiselle, if your explanation is correct-that the air itself was ignited-then how could the king have been spared?"
Adrienne tried to swallow, then licked her lips. "He should not have been spared," she admitted. "I cannot explain it"
Torcy nodded sardonically, and without looking back again, swept wide the door and strode out, shutting it firmly behind him.
Adrienne watched the closed door for a moment, and thought of the note with its scrawled owl.
After years of silence, the Korai had spoken to her. The d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans was one of the Korai. Which meant, in its own twisted way, mat she had just lied to Torcy.
Even as a girl she had been aware that her knowledge would one day exact a price.
She gritted her teeth, remembering what Torcy had said about being a queen or a p.a.w.n, and she silently resolved that if they insisted on drawing her into this game, she would not be a p.a.w.n.
Painful Gardens
"Must he stand over us?" Fatio complained, indicating the guard who watched Adrienne from the doorway.
"I believe he must," Adrienne replied. "He has been a.s.signed to me by the king himself, I am told."
"Well, if that is the case," Fatio muttered, clearly unconsoled.
"I would not worry that he understands any part of what we do well enough to spy upon it," Gustavus said, his voice as musical as his eyes were cold.
"Report it to whom?" Fatio asked. "If he works for the king-"
"My guard is not deaf, you know," Adrienne put in a bit sharply. It seemed rude to discuss the young man as if he were not there.
Fatio's eyes widened, but men he nodded and shrugged. "Just so," he said. "And in any event, Gustavus and I have much work to do today, for all the good that it may do us."
Adrienne rea.s.sured Fatio. "If you think of defeat, you will draw it upon you. Think instead of victory."
Fatio favored her with a wan smile. Gustavus shot her an irritated one. Both men then turned back toward their workbenches. Adrienne yearned to follow them, to peer at the formulae they so puzzled over, but if ever there was a time to reveal her inclinations for the mathematical, this was not it Enough attention had been drawn to her already, more than enough. A month before she had been a mouse nosing about in the royal library. Now kings, ministers, and d.u.c.h.esses all vied to see who could more quickly ruin her life-all since she had begun aiding Fatio.
She strode back to the aetherschreibers, sighing, then sorted through queries she was to send out. One machine clicked, buzzed, and wrote even as she did so.
She had to learn what Fatio and Gustavus were working on. The king might desire her physically, and Torcy might be interested in her because the king was, as he said. But it was significant that all of Torcy's questions had centered on her position at the academy and the connection between that and the duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans. Of course, if the d.u.c.h.ess was one of the Korai, then it was the Korai who had arranged for her to work at the academy. But why?
Adrienne's throat felt as if a noose were already being drawn around it. There was vital information she did not possess, and perhaps the most important was the nature of Fatio's work. It must be important; it interested the king, Torcy, the d.u.c.h.ess...
She reached over to change the sheet in the working schreiber. It must be a weapon, she thought. The calculus she had seen suggested a cannon, but she was confident that it was not And yet what it actually might be eluded her.
Fatio and Gustavus were deep in discussion; they had not noticed the incoming correspondence. Adrienne surrept.i.tiously read the page.
The communication was from M. Two, but it was not in a handwriting she recognized. A new secretary then, she thought, until she read the first line. She read on through the absurd letter, frowning. Who was playing a joke on her-or rather, on Fatio? M. Two had never evinced even the faintest signs of humor before. An aetherschreiber that could communicate with unlinked devices?
A faint scratching at the door interrupted her. Adrienne shuffled the new letter into the sheaf of papers she was to send. She did not glance back to see whom the guard was admitting, but when Fatio greeted the newcomer, the blood rushed from Adrienne's face.
"My good duke!" Fatio exclaimed. "Gustavus von Trecht, let me introduce you to the duke of Orleans. To what do we owe this undeserved honor, sir?" Fatio inquired.
Adrienne slipped a paper into the machine and began writing, trying with all her will to be unnoticeable, a mere secretary.
"I am here to serve you, sir," the duke replied. "I have merely come to ask if there is anything the academy can do to make this transition to your new quarters easier."
"Oh, that is very kind..." Fatio began.