The Shadows of God - J. Gregory Keyes [56]
“You would do this?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I believe what I say, you see. This is no small struggle between countries. It is a fight for the liberty and life of everyone. If the English colonies are defeated, it is a tragedy. But the fight must go on.”
The king frowned in irritation. “I have told you—”
“I understand, Your Majesty, that you do not yet consider this your fight. I know also that you do not have all the facts and that you are used to deception in those you treat with. I am willing to gamble that when the time comes—and it will come, Majesty—that this will become your fight. I want you to have the means to do it, that is all. If I'm wrong, you will still have gained, for there are foes aplenty around you. I understand you have had your differences with Cuba, Mexico, and Florida.”
The king nodded thoughtfully, but his eyes soon narrowed with suspicion. “And if you find your own weapons turned against you? If I join my cousin in his conquest of the New World?”
“Sire, I have not known you long, but I will be impertinent enough to judge your character. When you see what it actually is that we are fighting, you will understand. You will agree with me. But—they will be your weapons, your defenses. Clearly you can do anything with them that you please.”
“Sterne has promised me mechanical men and airships. Will what you build me be better than that?”
“Remember always this, Sire. I was with Sir Isaac when he invented the talos, the template for those mechanical men you speak of. Surely you have heard the tale? By now it is famous.”
“How it turned on him?”
“Yes. The aid Sterne offers you is of a very powerful sort— and it cannot be trusted. The creatures that locomote his airships and automatons will not be loyal to you. They are not loyal to Sterne, or to King James, or even to the tsar of Russia. They are loyal to distant creatures in the aether, invisible masters who wish for nothing less than the extinction of humanity. If you would invite such into your very home, I can do nothing to stop you. But it would be foolish.”
Philippe paced across the laboratory. “They say,” he murmured, “that my uncle Louis XIV was possessed by a demon in his last years. He was blind, you know—and yet he could see. And he brought that thing down from heaven.” He looked up. “I am not unaware of the creatures you speak of. The priests argue over the matter, but most of the Jesuits believe them to be demons. Is that your belief?”
“Yes. Or to be more precise, they are beings of great power who wish us harm. I will leave it to theologians to decide where they are placed in God's plan. For my part, I believe in a God who is not nearly so devious and fickle in His designs.”
The king fidgeted. “I don't like this sort of talk. I don't like it at all. But I must face it, I suppose. Still, though Sterne is somewhat boorish—and, forgive me, what Englishman is not?—I see no evidence that he leagues himself with the devil. Indeed, since he makes the same claim of you, I don't know what to believe.” He rested his hand on a table, looking very old and very tired. Franklin knew exactly how he felt.
“Well,” he said, “if Your Majesty will bear a change in subject, here is the demonstration I had in mind for the dinner crowd tonight. It is to do with the composition of the atmosphere. I think you will find it both instructive and amusing.”
The king brightened immediately, and his spirits continued to improve as they worked out the particulars. He became less like a king and more like a young boy, fascinated by the world. A little of it rubbed off on Franklin, and he found he was, at times, enjoying himself.
It was after the king was gone, and he straightening up, that he felt more than heard someone else enter the room.
Vasilisa stood in the doorway, wearing a gown of deepest violet.
“Hello, Benjamin. I understand you are making quite the impression around here.”
“Really? I was surprised, I admit, not to see you at dinner. You seem to have insinuated yourself into the machinery here as well. I've only yet to figure