A Calculus of Angels (12 page)

A string quartet played something dreadful in a nearby alcove as they waited, hats tucked under their arms, for the “informal” audience to get under way. At last, the chamberlain beckoned them forward. Newton went first, performing A CALCULUS OF ANGELS

the Spanish genuflection, bowing deeply thrice and then dropping to one knee.

When it was Ben’s turn, he did the same, sweeping his hat gracefully before him.

He was rewarded by a gasp from the entire court, and for an instant he was well pleased with himself, believing that his performance had been somehow superlative—until he suddenly understood his mistake. At the end of his bow, he had— quite inadvertently—replaced his hat on his head. That made exactly two people in the room wearing hats: himself and the emperor.

He hastened to remove the offending headgear, and though Karl deigned not to notice the breach of etiquette, the “old men” stared angrily at him for the remainder of the audience.

The emperor nodded at Newton and cleared his throat. “How fare things scientific, Sir Isaac? Have you discovered anything of gravity?”

Ben chuckled aloud, but he was the only one in the room who did so. No one ever dared to laugh at the emperor’s jokes, probably because the emperor himself never even twitched a smile. “A very clever pun, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing once more. The emperor inclined his head toward Ben, but then returned his attention to Sir Isaac. A few belated and forced titters drifted about the room, accompanied by additional venomous gazes directed at Ben.

“Indeed, Sire,” said Newton, “I have been making great strides of late in the development of a new system, one which, by comparison, shall make even my
Principia
appear rather pale.”

“That is good to hear. The empire has need of such ‘new systems,” I am certain.“ He raised a brow. ”I hope in this new system you make certain matters clear.“

Ben knew what he meant. Everyone was aware Newton had discovered some means of recovering his youth, and the emperor—and a good number of others

—took a rather extreme interest in that, though the interest went mostly unspoken or couched, as now, obliquely.

Newton understood him, however. “Yes, Sire. It is a matter of regularizing an A CALCULUS OF ANGELS

accident, of making it mathematically predictable. It is the difference, you might say, between taking— accidentally—enough of a virulent poison to cure an illness but not kill and being able to reliably
prescribe
that dosage. His Majesty will understand that I hesitate to experiment upon him in such matters.”

“I should say I do,” the emperor replied. “But I speak of more important things than this ‘medicine.” “

“Yes, Sir Isaac,” another man put in. “How will this new system aid us in our struggle to reclaim the empire from its enemies?” This speaker was nothing like the emperor. Though an older man, he hardly looked it. If the emperor was a weary bloodhound at the age of thirty-eight, Eugene of Savoy at fifty-nine was a wolf. Though childlike in size and proportion, what there
was
of his slight body seemed made of wire, piano string tuned so tight as to be near the breaking point. Still, just as Karl VI did not, at first sight, strike one as being an emperor, the prince of Savoy did not
look
like the greatest general of his age

—not, that is, until you noticed the metallic glitter of eyes, windows into a head full of dancing knives.

“I durst not say,” Sir Isaac replied, keeping his gaze upon the emperor’s knees.

“Unless His Majesty should ask me himself, and even then I would beg for a private audience.”

“Quite right,” the emperor said. “That is as it should be, given recent events.

Considering all you have done for the empire, it pleases us to trust you. And yet, I could wish for some results soon, Sir Isaac, something of practicality.

You must know how heavily it burdens me that Spain, our rightful possession, languishes under Bourbon rule. Harder still that glorious Vienna, queen of all cities, cracks beneath the weight of fat Turks. But as you well know, Prague herself is now threatened. Why, we have heard even today that a Russian mob threatened our sorcerer’s apprentice.” He gestured with thumb and forefinger at Ben, who bowed, wondering how long one’s knees could last at court.

“I apologize for that incident, Majesty,” Newton replied. “I have instructed Mr.

Franklin to remain, henceforth, on this side of the Moldau.”

“The matter is weightier than that,” the emperor said. “We have had cooperation from the prisoner taken this morning, the leader of this gang, and A CALCULUS OF ANGELS

he has admitted to being an imperial Muscovite agent. His charge was to steal one or both of you away from us. Gentlemen, we do not care for this at all.

Prague—all Prague—must be more secure, and we must have weapons that will make the Russians think twice of trying to shuck this oyster for its pearl.“

“I assure you, Sire, that you will have such weapons soon enough.”

“Very well. Is there anything else that either of you have to say, then?”

Ben stepped up and bowed once more. “Yes, Sire. I have a present for you.”

The emperor did not smile, but his eyebrows rose, a sign of his pleasure. “How thoughtful,” he said, and gestured for the chamberlain to take the box Ben indicated, the one that Newton’s valet had carried in a few feet behind them.

The old fellow took the package and drew out the shoes, which Ben had hastily painted black.

“Well, how
unusual,”
the emperor said, and this time the laughter around the court was a bit freer.

“If it please Your Majesty, like the men who accosted me, they are more than they seem.”

“I guessed as much. Well, there are no wings upon them, so I suppose they are not the fleet shoes of Mercury.”

“No, Sire, more those of Poseidon. With them, you may skate upon the liquid surface of water.”

“What a delightful thought. I should like to see this.” He paused for an instant.

“I should like to see this now.”

The move to the first courtyard and its fountain pool took a full hour, though the distance traversed was less than a hundred yards, because moving the party meant that everyone present had to sort themselves into the proper order, from emperor to servant and all of the somewhat-disputable degrees between. Ben had never seen a more profound waste of human effort and A CALCULUS OF ANGELS

ingenuity, and he reflected privately that it was no wonder that the empire had withered to a single city if this ossified ceremony was indicative of ho_w affairs of war and diplomacy were also conducted.

They at last reached the courtyard, and he bounced lightly up onto the edge of the fountain pool, donned his inventions, and began to shuffle about upon the marble-confined puddle. Only silence greeted his performance until the emperor gave an enthusiastic exclamation and a single clap, and then the applause pattered around Ben like rain. This cheered him up, and that the courtiers could not even decide whether something amused them eased his anger into jovial disdain.

He twirled about and bowed, still standing on the water, and then stepped down from the fountain, bowed, presented the shoes to the emperor.

“I shall furnish more for your daughters, if you wish, Your Majesty,” he said,

“and I have taken the liberty of engaging a boatwright to modify one of your pleasure craft in like way.”

“A boat that touches not the water?” Prince Eugene mused. “I think I might see some advantage in that.”

“Yes, yes!” the emperor exclaimed. “Sir Isaac, again you have amused the court and shown us something useful. We are very pleased, and it would please us
mightily
if you would attend Mass with us tomorrow.”

Ben felt a bit of guilty delight; though Newton always got the ultimate credit for
Ben’s
inventions, it was Newton who had to pay the price by attending state functions—and worst of all, church. In all the world, Newton despised nothing so much as the Catholic Church, and in Bohemia, there was no other church, unless one counted the Jewish temples. Newton felt it a mortal sin to attend—as he put it—the “lying, pagan rituals” of Catholicism.

But Newton knew his limits, too, and the boundaries of the emperor’s favor.

“If it please Your Majesty,” he conceded, bowing.

Yes, let him have the credit—and let
him
be the one lying prostrate in the cathedral whilst Ben found diversions with less devout playmates.

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The audience began breaking up. It was nearing the dinner hour, and as soon as it was polite, Ben took his leave. As he crossed the courtyard, however, he found himself suddenly confronted by a bizarre procession.

Some ten or so dwarfs in miniature courtly garb were marching into the yard.

First came halberdiers, followed by bearers supporting a small sedan chair, behind which trailed pygmy versions of courtiers, “gentlemen,” “ladies,” and most interestingly, one small man all in red, wearing a peaked astrological hat and little round spectacles.

As the weird cortege drew up abreast of him, the window of the sedan chair lowered a few inches. Inside, Ben could see a little girl, perhaps five or six, with strikingly blond hair and unreasonably serious eyes.

“Hello, Mr. Franklin,” the girl called. “Could you come here for a moment?”

Ben bowed thrice and went down on one knee before he approached the chair.

“Good afternoon, Duchess,” he said.

“Archduchess,”
she corrected him, with a bit of childish petulance. She was dressed exactly as a great lady—in a blue and silver gown trimmed with gold and large, dangling sleeves: an empress with a court made to scale.

“Beg pardon, Your Highness, Your Archduchessness. How can I be of service?”

The archduchess Maria Theresa smiled slyly. “You see that I have my own philosopher?” she asked, pointing back at the little man in red.

“Indeed,” Ben replied. “He seems a smart fellow.”

“Yes, I suppose,” she said, complaint in her tone. “But the scientifical inventions he makes aren’t nearly so jolly as yours.”

Ben glanced back at the dwarf, who was doing his best to look cheerful but was being only moderately successful.

“Well, we scientifical philosophers all have our feasts and famines,” he replied.

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“Yes, I guess so. But I would like to have
you
with my court, Mr. Franklin.”

“Well, Archduchess, that is highly flattering, but I’m afraid I already have a position.”

"Well,
leave
it then," She pouted. ”My father has too many scientificals. I want one of my own.“

“Well, but as you said—”

“No, a
real
one,” she insisted, “like you.”

“I think perhaps I am too tall to be in your court,” Ben replied.

“You could be my giant. Father has a giant. Besides, I shall not always be small. One day I shall be grown-up.”

“But for now, I’m afraid I have to do what your father, the emperor, says,” Ben explained. “Now if you could but convince him…” He had a sudden, horrible thought. What if she
did
manage to convince her father to put him in her service, forcing him to parade about in this play court of dwarfs all day?

He cleared his throat and then lowered his voice secretively. “A thought, Archduchess. What if I were to be your
secret
court philosopher? Wouldn’t that be more fun, more mysterious?”

“No,” she considered, “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, yes, but it would. We could meet in secret, and I could show you inventions that no one else has seen, and only you and I and your guards would know about them.”

“Even my father would not know about them?”

“Not even he,” Ben lied.

“Well.
Maybe
that sounds like fun.”

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“Well, if you decide, send me a
secret
note by only your most trusted servant.

Don’t forget that the Turk has spies all about us, watching everything we do.”

“I don’t like that.”

“Well, that is why we must be careful. In fact, let us have a secret password, so that no Turk can disguise himself as me and intercept your communiques.”

The archduchess clapped her tiny hands. “What shall our password be?” she asked.

“Well, as you are the archduchess, that is for
you
to say.”

“Very well. Then I say it is… um… I don’t know. I command
you
to choose one.”

“Very well, then. It shall be…
Rehaset Ramai”

“Rehaset Ramai? Why, that
sounds
Turkish.”

“Very good, Majesty. That will fool them all the more. In Turkish it means—um

—‘all is well.” But it really is your name.“

“My name? That’s silly.”

“No, no. Tis an anagram, you see? ”Rehaset‘ is Theresa, “Ramai’ is ‘Maria.” So when I hear the note is from Rehaset Ramai, I shall know it is from you, but if a Turk hears, he will think, “All is well.” “

“I do see. This is fun.”

Ben bowed again. “I shall await your next communication, Archduchess Ramai.”

She nodded, and, looking pleased, put up her window. The dwarf court began marching once again.

Noticing that Newton was still engaged in conversation, Ben finished his stroll across the courtyard and out onto the Powder Bridge. From there, he stared A CALCULUS OF ANGELS

down at the green depths of the Stag Moat, wondering what he should do next.

Not go back to Katarina’s, that was certain. In fact, he now had an excuse not to go back there for a good long while, if ever. Besides, what he was hungry for at the moment was food, not female diversion, so best he find Robert—or perhaps this Captain Frisk, if he was able—and make his way to a tavern to dine. And then, perhaps, return his attention to that maid, whatever her name was. Cold and imperious she might be, and no great beauty, but she had something in her gown he much desired.

Her
keys
.

Something was moving down in the moat. The Stag Moat was not one of water; it was a narrow canyon planted with lemon trees, figs, and other exotic plants. Usually, the emperor and his nobles kept game for their frequent hunts there—wild boar and stag, of course.