Captain Nemo_ The Fantastic History of a Dark Genius - Kevin J Anderson [0]
CAPTAIN NEMO
The Fantastic History of a Dark Genius
By Kevin J. Anderson
“What one man can imagine, another can achieve.”
—Jules Verne
Copyright 2002 WordFire, Inc.
Originally published by Pocket Books, 2002.
www.wordfire.com
PROLOGUE
Amiens, France
February, 1873
Damp winter clung to northern France, but a fire warmed Jules Verne’s writing study with sultry smoke, orange light, and dreams.
Verne had composed many of his best stories in this isolated tower room, where narrow latticed windows looked out upon the leaden Amiens sky. The bleak view reminded him of the polar wastelands in Captain Hatteras, or the Icelandic volcano in A Journey to the Centre of the Earth. Imagination had taken him to many places, both real and unreal.
Elms graced the flagstoned courtyard of the author’s house on rue Charles-Dubois. Thick vines climbed the brick walls like ratlines on a sailing ship, such as the three-masted Coralie, on which a young and ambitious Jules had almost taken a voyage around the world.
Almost. At the last minute, Verne’s stern father had snatched him from that real-life adventure, then punished him for “boyhood foolishness.” His friend André Nemo had gone on the voyage without him. “A world of adventure is waiting for us,” Nemo always said. But he had done it all alone.
Though he was much older now, and wealthy, Verne promised himself he would go out and see exotic lands and have exciting adventures, just like Nemo. One day.
At the age of 45, Jules Verne was a world-renowned writer, bursting with imaginative ideas. Persistent gray strands streaked his unruly reddish hair, and his long beard lent him a philosophical appearance. Often depicted in the French press, Verne had seen his fame grow with each successive novel. Lionized for his brilliant imagination, he was a man to whom the world turned for excitement.
And I deserve none of it.
His “inventiveness” was a sham. Nemo was the one who experienced all the real adventures, survived the trials, explored the unknown. Verne was merely an armchair adventurer, living a vicarious life through Nemo’s exploits.
No matter. Nemo didn’t want the applause or the fame anyway.
In the tower study, Verne’s maplewood shelves groaned with reference books, atlases, explorers’ journals, newspaper clippings -- information compiled by others. He had no other way to achieve verisimilitude in his fiction. Verne had been everywhere on the planet, but only in his mind. It was safer that way, after all, and not so much of a bother.
Verne picked at the plate of strong camembert his quiet and frumpy wife had left him hours before. He smeared the soft cheese on a piece of brown bread and ate, chewing slowly, deep in thought.
Nemo had once said to him, “There are two types of men in this world, Jules -- those who do things, and those who wish they did.”
Oh, how Verne envied him . . . at least in a rhetorical way.
Ten years ago his first novel, Five Weeks in a Balloon, about a fantastic trip across unexplored Africa, had established him as a popular writer. Since then, his “Extraordinary Voyages” had made him a fortune.
Despite the fame, Verne found himself oddly jealous of his old friend Nemo, the experiences he’d had, the opportunities he’d seized. Nemo had loved and lost, had come close to death any number of times, had suffered tremendous hardships, and triumphed. It seemed like such an exciting life, if one went in for that sort of thing. Nervous perspiration broke out on Verne’s forehead just to think of it. What is it about the man?
Verne had followed Five Weeks with A Journey to the Centre of the Earth, which explored exotic regions