Captain Nemo_ The Fantastic History of a Dark Genius - Kevin J Anderson [81]
Holding his bread, his bottle, and his umbrella, he stepped outside and drew a deep fresh breath. He strode out with his long legs, determined to reach a quiet spot on the Seine at the northern edge of the Latin Quarter, where he could ruminate while he ate his lunch.
Before he could move down the block, the bundled stranger turned and raised a hand. “Jules!” came an astonished voice. “Jules Verne, is it you?”
Verne stopped and looked around, but saw no one else on the street, no place he could hide. He became wary, afraid that this might be some beggar or cutpurse . . . though he had no money for either.
But as the stranger came forward, Verne stared at the dark hair and dark eyes, the changed shape of the face, now drawn and weathered . . . but still with a hint of boyhood familiarity. Verne opened and closed his mouth, yet could not force words to come out. He was unable to believe what he was seeing. The man came forward and embraced him.
Nemo had returned.
Part V
PARIS IN THE 20TH CENTURY
i
Nantes, 1852
Standing on the quay, Nemo looked across the Nantes shipyards, shading his dark eyes. It had been more than a decade since he’d departed on Captain Grant’s ship, three years since he’d returned -- and so much had changed, both in the world and in himself. He was a man now, though surrounded by boyhood memories that haunted this place -- the best of times and the darkest of nightmares.
In the drydock shells and launching ramps at Ile Feydeau, he heard loud voices talking, mallets pounding. Someone with a squeezebox sang out a ribald tune to keep his mates moving as they strung rigging on a new ship. His heart grew heavy as he thought of his kind-hearted father working on the doomed Cynthia. How many ships and sailors had gone in and out of this port since Nemo had left as a cabin boy aboard the Coralie?
The tall ships were still here. A few clippers and brigs continued to sail up the Loire bringing in cargo from the Atlantic, though the main business of the city now centered on shipbuilding. The future of Nantes lay in that industry, and now -- by the command of Napoleon III himself -- it was Nemo’s job to modernize the old shipyards, to prepare them for the next century.
As a young man, André Nemo had left home penniless and fatherless, with no future. Now, with a commission from the Emperor of France, rebuilding the shipyards of Nantes would be but one of Nemo’s complex projects.
Since his return from far-off Iceland three years ago, Nemo had attracted much attention because of his extraordinary adventures. But he hadn’t wanted to become a celebrity. Instead, he had used his modest fame to arrange for a formal education -- something he could not have achieved as a mere orphan who’d served on a lost sailing ship (and a British-commissioned one, at that).
During his time on the island he’d already learned how to put his imagination to practical use. Before, he’d had access to nothing more than the knowledge in poor Captain Grant’s small library. Now, his engineering studies at the Paris Academy opened a new world of resources, and he excelled in public service by using his own skills combined with the raw materials and budget of the country.
The elected president of France, Louis Napoleon, had settled the unrest after the Revolutions of 1848 and recently declared himself Emperor. To shore up his public image and continue the illusion of working to benefit everyday lives, Emperor Napoleon III undertook numerous construction projects. The work had shaken the revolution-scarred populace toward a grudging optimism.
“The empire means peace,” Napoleon III had said in one grand speech. “We have immense tracts of uncultivated lands to clear, roads to open, ports to create, canals to finish, our railway network to complete. These are the conquests I am contemplating, and all French people