Free Newton's Cannon by J. Gregory Keyes Page A

most of the correspondence; it was about the motion of large masses. It was clear to Adrienne that some sort of movement was being calculated, almost certainly orbital motion. But the present correspondence concerned an alchemical formula dealing with affinity. Yet she could not guess
what
affinity. It did not seem to be gravity, magnetism, or simple sociability, though it did seem to be an
attractive
rather than repulsive affinity.
    “It's like shooting at a single pigeon in the dark,” Fatio complained, stamping across the room toward Gustavus. “I should never have told the king we could do it! ‘All I lack is the mediating formula,’ I told him. All! I will lack it until doomsday, at this rate!”
    “I don't even see how we can know we are correct,” Gustavus replied.
    “We
must
know we are correct before we implement
anything
,”Fatio said. “And yet, in a month it will be too late! What am I missing? The answer must be simple, I know it is!”
    “We will find it,” Gustavus assured him.
    “I hope so. I told the king—” but then he broke off short, as he remembered Adrienne was present.
    If I only knew what you were trying to do, you fool, I could probably help
, Adrienne groused inwardly. That was really the largest piece of the puzzle for her. If she only understood the relationship between the calculations of motion and the incomplete alchemical formula, she could do the calculations and pretend it had come from M. Two, who used several different secretaries to do his schreibing.
    A sharp rapping sounded at the door. She would have to answer it and likely miss a part of what was being written. She had just changed the paper, so she had no excuse not to answer the door. Once the formula was off the desk, however, and replaced by a blank sheet, Fatio would snatch it up so that he and Gustavus could ponder it, and she would not get a chance to see it again.
    She opened the door to a young page boy. He bowed to her.
    “Pardon me,” he said, “but do I have the honor of addressing Mademoiselle de Montchevreuil?”
    Adrienne was astonished, for callers here were almost always for Fatio, occasionally for Gustavus—
never
for her. Then she suddenly remembered the king's invitation. “Indeed, you do.”
    “In that case, I have the honor of escorting you to the king's carriage. He requests your presence at Versailles this evening.”
    “This evening? But … the king's entertainment is tomorrow.”
    “Yes, my lady,” the page replied. “I have been told to wait until you have finished your immediate business.”
    “I—” She turned helplessly to see if Fatio and Gustavus had followed this exchange and found them both staring at her.
    “Of course you must go,” Fatio said softly.
    Adrienne turned back to the page. “I must finish something first—a matter of a few moments. Would you please wait?”
    Adrienne returned to the aetherschreiber, wound it again, and nervously waited for the message to finish.
    * * *
    As Adrienne approached the carriage, she realized that it was occupied already—the man inside of it was, in fact, stepping out. She recognized him as he swept off his tricorn hat and bowed low to her.
    “Demoiselle de Montchevreuil,” he said, “how wonderful to see you.”
    “And I am delighted to see you, Monsieur Minister,” she replied, though she was in fact quite intimidated by Jean-Baptiste Colbert, the marquis of Torcy and the king's minister of foreign affairs. Torcy was in his midfifties, but he carried his years well. The solid bones of his nearly square face refused to let his flesh droop, and his carriage was that of a young musketeer. Only his eyes and the corners of his mouth showed his true age and the weight of his responsibilities. Like so many at court, the marquis had a charming exterior, but his smile hid dragon's teeth and his dark eyes the fatal glance of the gorgon.
    At the moment, however, he was charming, kissing her hand and making certain that she was