Captain Nemo_ The Fantastic History of a Dark Genius - Kevin J Anderson [90]
Together, the two men strolled past paintings of Napoleon Bonaparte, glorified portrayals of the French Revolution, bucolic landscapes, flowers, portraits of forgotten noblemen. In a casual voice that quickly heated with enthusiasm, Nemo laid out his case for the balloon trip, not surprised that his friend was already familiar with the details. Verne grew uncomfortable listening to every sentence, but he could see the fire in Nemo’s eyes, the passion he had for this excursion, just like he’d shown when talking about his scheme to walk underwater. Nothing would ever sway Nemo once he’d made up his mind.
“I cannot argue with you that crossing darkest Africa is an amazing idea, André. I expected nothing less of your imagination . . . but still, I remain skeptical. Are you certain it’s safe?”
He looked at Verne, his dark eyes flashing, an impish grin on his face. The expression reminded him of the times they had fashioned schemes down on the docks or pored through geography books, trying to outdo each other with tales of exotic lands. “My friend, can you truly be concerned for my safety, after all I have already survived?”
Verne gave a snort and turned away to scrutinize a rather dark and unimaginative still-life of fruit and feathers. “Why should I be concerned about that? For a man who has walked underwater, sailed halfway round the world, fought off pirates, survived on a desert island, and explored the uncharted bowels of the Earth -- why, a simple trip in a balloon is bound to be downright tedious.”
Then Verne drew a deep breath, trying to explain. “André, when I finish at the Academy, I am doomed to life as a small-town lawyer, forced to follow in my father’s tedious footsteps. But you already have a useful, interesting job -- an engineer who has captured the interest of Baron Haussmann and even the Emperor himself. Why would you throw all that away?”
Nemo stared at the stoic expression of Bonaparte in an enormous painting that depicted the battle of Borodinó. “Haussmann has asked me to redesign the Paris sewers, Jules. Surely there will still be work remaining for me when I return from Africa.”
They walked along in silence, then paused in front of a painting of an old fisherwoman holding a basket of herring. Nemo had a distant expression on his face, and he responded in a quiet voice that told how well he knew Verne. “Or are you more concerned about Caroline, Jules? Concerned because she’ll be with me?”
He clutched his friend’s forearm and stared at him. Always before the mutual attraction between Nemo and Caroline had sparked a bit of envy from Verne, but now Nemo was going away with her on a long and dangerous voyage across Africa. Verne’s flushed cheeks and awkward silence told Nemo everything that his friend would not say aloud. “Jules, she is still a married woman. I won’t forget that. Dr. Fergusson will chaperone us at all times. On my honor, I will see to it that no harm befalls her.”
The best Verne could manage was a faint smile. “She could ask for no better protector.” The alabaster statues in the center of the wide hall seemed to look at him skeptically. He didn’t dare say anything more.
He began to walk again, the tip of his umbrella clicking on the polished floor. In a side gallery a worker with a mop did his best to be unobtrusive as he wiped away wet footprints. “If you must know,” Verne said, looking straight ahead in search of another work of art worthy of his attention, “I envy you for actually having the fabulous adventures we talked about as boys. You are seeing the world, experiencing the wonders that I can only imagine. I . . . I have never even set foot outside of France.”
Nemo brightened. “Does this mean you’d like to accompany us, Jules?”
Verne jerked around in undisguised horror. “Of course not! I have my studies here in Paris, and my friends, and --