Age Of Unreason - Newton's Cannon Part 15

Gustavus coughed politely. "The observatory."

"Theobservatory!"Fatioexclaimed. "Quite right! I had nearly forgotten. Gustavus and I will need the observatory soon."

"Will you?" the duke asked, in a tone which arrested Adrienne. He doesn't know what they are doing either, she realized. He's trying to find out."Unfortunately," the duke went on, "the observatory cannot be moved here, as I am sure you are aware. I could arrange for you to have the use of a reflecting telescope. I can have one brought here by carriage."

"Oh," Fatio said, "why, yes, I think that would do."

"Anything else, my good sirs?"

"I don't think so- Oh, my pardon, Duke, I have failed to introduce my other a.s.sociate.

Please let me present Mademoiselle to you."

Adrienne closed her eyes, praying silently for strength. Then, draping a polite smile on her lips, she turned to meet the duke. He was a man of middle height, stout, mild-eyed. To her surprise, he looked at her seemingly without interest, but bowed perfunctorily. "Most pleased to see you again, Mademoiselle de Montchevreuil," said the duke.

"Oh, you know Mademoiselle," Fatio said, slightly chagrined.

"We met several years ago," the duke replied, "but more immediately we were both unfortunate enough to be on hand at the great tragedy of two days past"

"Such a terrible thing," Fatio said.

"My wife, the d.u.c.h.ess, inquires after you," the duke told her.

"Please tell her that I am well," Adrienne a.s.sured him. "And may I inquire after her?"

"Like myself, she was somewhat singed," the duke answered. "You seem to have escaped harm."

"My back was burned," Adrienne admitted, "though not badly. This dress pains me, I fear." "Then for heaven's sake, my dear young lady," Orleans replied, "dress in something more comfortable-a manteau, perhaps."

"I fear manteaux are not acceptable garb at court."

The duke nodded. "This is true, but the king has other things to concern himself with now. I doubt very much that he will notice how you are dressed."

Fatio gasped, and Adrienne froze her expression, wondering if the duke had intended that cruelly indifferent reference to the king's blindness or if it was a horrid misstatement.

"In any event," the duke of Orleans said, bowing once more, "I leave you all to your work. I am greatly interested in all matters scientific, and I would love to discuss what you do here at length someday. I am a dabbler in experiments myself, you know."

"Everyone in the academy is aware of Monsieur's scientific inclinations," Gustavus said unexpectedly. "We are all much gratified to have such august and informed interest taken in our work."

The duke smiled and nodded. "Mademoiselle, gentlemen."

As he left, Adrienne dropped a low curtsey, and the two men bowed.

"I suppose he shall be king, soon," Gustavus remarked softly.

"Please, Gustavus, do not speak such things. I am quite certain the king will recover his wits presently."

Wits? Adrienne thought, shooting a glance at the young guard. To her complete surprise, he nodded sadly.

Returning to the aetherschreibers, she finished the letter and then another. Though her chest was still tight with worry, it appeared the duke had not come to further implicate her in some plot. The guard, who would surely report all he saw and heard to Torcy-or perhaps Bontemps-could confirm that there had been no secret exchange between them.

She sent two more letters, then reached the strange message from M. Two she had hidden-and nearly forgotten. She stared at it, more perplexed than ever, and then, with sudden resolve, moved to the second schreiber.

We shall see, she thought, if this is a joke, Monsieur Ja.n.u.s. Ja.n.u.s, the two-faced G.o.d of doorways and beginnings.

Adrienne took up the stylus and wrote-as usual, in English.

My Dear Ja.n.u.s, We are of two faces concerning your offer. One face fears being spied upon, but the other smiles at the possibility of an end to our perplexity. If this is, indeed, the opening of a door, then I can a.s.sure you that your thoughts will receive all of the attention and recognition they merit.

Humbly yours, Minerva There. If the author of the letter was a joker, he would understand that his joke was accepted for what it was. If it was something other, she would know soon enough.

She rose early the next day, something nagging at the edges of her sleeping mind, something that shouted to be made sense of but refused to resolve into coherent thought. She did have one relief; the girls had managed to obtain her old gown, the modest, dark manteau in the style of Saint Cyr.

She found the guardsman snoring outside her door. An unwilling smile flitted across her face, as she briefly considered trying to steal off without him. Instead she squatted down and poked him in the forehead with her finger.

"Awake, Monsieur," she told him.

"s.h.i.+t!" he exclaimed. Then he stopped, flus.h.i.+ng scarlet. "Beg pardon, milady," he finished sheepishly.

"I am going for a walk," she announced.

He struggled to his feet and adjusted his twisted baldric. "I am already with you."

"I've never understood these gardens," the guardsman admitted. The marble eyes of several Nereids watched them pa.s.s a fountain and continue toward the Grand Ca.n.a.l. "What is there to understand?"

"They are unpleasant. I always thought that gardens should be pleasant"

Adrienne could not hide a broad smile. "Whatever gave you that idea, sir?"

The fellow shrugged. "I grew up in Be"arn. There are many vineyards there. We were poor, but my mother always kept a garden."

"And?" she prompted."My mother's gardens, the vineyards-I always found them pleasant. I always a.s.sumed that if my mother's garden was nice, a king's garden would be paradise."

Adrienne nodded. "They are nice from the window or from the hill near the orangery, are they not?"

"They are grand," he admitted. "But here, among them, they are torturous."

"I agree with you," Adrienne replied. Then, changing the subject, she said, "You say you are from Beam."

"All of the Hundred Swiss are not Swiss," he said. "Even one of our lieutenants is French. My father was a member of the Hundred, and his father was a musketeer in the days of Louis XIII when they were the favored household guard. My family has a long history of such service to the kings of France."

Adrienne nodded. "As does mine. What is your family?"

"D'Artagnan," he replied.

She hesitated and then glanced at him. "I am of Montchevreuil."

"I know," he said shyly. "My father knew your uncle well. He spoke very highly of him."

"How ironic. Your father and my uncle, both staunch defenders of the king-friends

even-and now you are my guardian."

His face reddened again. "Please, milady," he said, "you mustn't suspect that I believe you need watching."

"No, of course not," she said, a little more angrily than she had intended. "Who could

possibly think that?"They plodded on for another thirty yards, Adrienne struggling to maintain her anger. She finally gave up. "How long ago did you come to Versailles? May I call you by your Christian name?"

"It is Nicolas, milady."

"Good. You must call me Adrienne. And how long ago did you come to Versailles, Nicolas?"

"It's been almost three years I've been one of the Hundred Swiss," he said, a trace of

pride in his tone.

"Three years. That's a long time, still not to understand the gardens."

They continued on, the silence growing awkward again, Adrienne trying to think of

some polite topic to continue the conversation upon, but to her surprise, Nicolas preempted her. "If you agree that the gardens are not comfortable to walk in," he asked, "why are you walking in them?"

"Because," Adrienne answered, "they are between me and my destination."

"That being..."

"The barge. I want to have a look at it I heard that most of it had been salvaged."

"I'm sorry, milady, but the barge was burned yestereve," Nicolas told her.

"Why was it burned? How could it have been burned without being carefully examined

for evidence?"

"I believe that it was examined, milady Adrienne. And the king himself ordered it burned."How can Torcy expect me to find evidence that has been burned? she thought angrily.But Torcy, of course, was not the king."Well, Nicolas, it appears we have subjected ourselves to these unpleasant gardens for no good reason, and so I beg your pardon.

"It's nearly time for me to be in the laboratory anyway," she observed.

Nicolas nodded, then said, "I must admit that I find these gardens less unpleasant than

I once did."

"Why is that?" Adrienne asked.

He was silent for a moment, and then unexpectedly laughed. "That was an attempt to be charming and complimentary, Mademoiselle. It is not something at which I excel."

Adrienne returned the laugh with a small but honest chuckle of her own. "No, it is not," she agreed, "but I am stupid in that way as well." To her own surprise, she reached out and patted his arm.

"Besides," she went on, a bit clumsily, "what need have you to flatter me? You and I are inseparable."

He did not take it as she intended. He fell silent. She knew that she had hurt his feelings, but she had no idea how to apologize. She was trying to think of some way to make him understand that she was only joking when she suddenly understood what she had been trying to grasp that morning.

The observatory, Fatio had said. Fatio and Gustavus needed a telescope.

Why?

Harmonic Sympathy

It seemed to Ben that a great spider was probing his eyelids and ears with rasplike limbs. He could not quite work up the energy to be terrified, but he did reach to brush the horrible creature from his face, and in doing so grasped the edge of the waking world. He pulled himself awake, thankful to avoid a second nightmare.

He could still hear the scratching of the spider's legs, though he began to recognize that it was the aetherschreiber downstairs, scribbling away.

Ben bolted up and stumbled down to the press room.

The schreiber chose that instant to cease. Ben managed to reach it and give its key several twists, but the machine remained still.

He recalled that it was still tuned to the schreiber of Mr. F. The clock on the wall told him that about an hour had pa.s.sed since he penned his own message, and here was the reply. He took up the sheet and as he read, his lips slowly spread into a smile.