The Shadows of God - J. Gregory Keyes [86]
“To give us less time to prepare, naturally,” Nairne replied.
“How many men did they land?”
“We don't know yet,” Du Roullet said. “We also have some intelligence that the underwater boats are putting troops ashore about thirty miles up the coast.” He smiled grimly. “One of our Taensas scouts reported a great deal of bubbles boiling up somewhat closer. They must have found our mines too impeding.”
Nairne rubbed his eyes. “Two fronts,” he murmured. “With the permission of you gentlemen, I should like to take command of the northwestern line. That will be where the hardest and most immediate fighting will be. They may have made a mistake, coming at us in pieces, like this. We might manage to swallow a number of small bites as we could not the whole meal.”
“True,” Du Roullet mused. “Which makes me wonder, with Mr. Franklin, why? Do they so fear what we might do in just a few days?”
They might, Franklin thought, if they got wind of what Vasilisa and I are working on.
He didn't say anything, though. If there was a traitor, best not to let him know his existence was suspected. “Have you sent for the tsar?” Franklin asked. “He might have some insight into this strategy.”
“A runner just went for him.”
Franklin nodded. “I had hoped we had a few more days.”
Nairne shrugged. “We got more than we did at Venice, and that turned out well enough. I have faith in you, Mr. Franklin.”
It struck him, then, that they did have faith in him, and it went cold into his bones.
“I will meet with you gentlemen later,” he said. “I need to talk to someone.”
Euler stirred awake almost instantly. It was disconcerting, the way he went from sound sleep to complete attentiveness. Franklin didn't like it.
“Mr. Franklin. Back out of my box?”
Franklin took a deep breath before beginning. “Mr. Euler,” he said, “it may be that I have treated you shabbily. I see no sense in apologizing for it. Trusting you comes hard, and I think you understand that. But you've done us more good than the people I trust. You warned us of the ships in Charles Town harbor and you told me how to provoke Sterne into revealing himself. I need you again.”
Euler looked frankly at him. “I am your prisoner,” he said.
“No. I've already given the order—you are no longer confined to the palace. You can leave without listening to another word from me. If I were you, I probably would. But I'll be plain. I need you.”
“Of course you do,” Euler snapped, his brow wrinkling. “You needed me weeks ago.”
“I know, but it's too late for that. Will you help me now?”
“Help you how?”
“Two things. First, the answer to a question, if you know it.”
“Ask it.”
“The army from the west hastens to attack us. But I have seen Swedenborg's designs for the engines.”
“From Mrs. Karevna?”
“You know her?”
“Of course. Go on.”
“It's a tidy question. They can be used at great distances. Why haven't they used them?”
“I thought I explained that. They won't use them until it's clear their military assault is a failure. Once they commit, the war in heaven will break full gale, and it will be a terrible one. Why risk that, when it seems clear that their forces can dispatch you—us, I should say—with relative ease?”
“You mean if we contrived to lose, the engines will never be used?”
“Never is a long time, Mr. Franklin. But possibly. Make no mistake—humanity will still perish—slowly. Or, if luck is with us, the Liberal faction will return to power in time to save a few of us, though our great cities and all our learning will be stripped from us by then.”
“But our race might live.”
“Might.”
Franklin sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “They attacked earlier than we thought, using the most mobile elements of their forces rather than waiting until they have the whole bear trap about us. Why? That only increases the likelihood, however small, that they will lose and have to use their engines.”
“They must suspect you are near a countermeasure. Or else …” He trailed off, then flicked his sharp gaze up at Franklin. “There is something else,