by A. E. Albert
“There they are!” screeched the angry Frenchman.
Billy, Jeanie and Dickens again raced through the French army. They darted around tents and, unfortunately, unable to avoid the piles of horse manure that were everywhere.
As they ran through the training area, Billy ducked just in time as a sword was slicing through the air. He didn’t turn to acknowledge the outraged soldier’s curses.
As they approached a colorful tent, Dickens yelled, “In here!”
The travelers stopped to catch their breath and observe their refuge. It seemed they were in an officer’s tent. There were tables with maps and other papers scattered on top. Billy noticed a pistol and a knife on one of the tables. However, he didn’t want to touch them and he didn’t really think they would help against a group of soldiers, anyway. Billy held his breath as he heard a group of men run past the tent.
“We can’t stay in here forever,” whispered Billy, as he shook his head.
“Dickens, there’s no way we’re getting out of this camp,” added Jeanie with fear in her eyes.
“Let’s use the Device here, now. It’s our only chance,” Billy pleaded.
“I’ve already explained this to you Billy-” Dickens had begun to say as the flap of the tent was ripped open.
There stood Bernarde, at the entrance of the tent, with a triumphant smile upon his face. “I knew you were not who you said you were. I know not your agenda, but I believe it is not in France’s or La Rochelle’s best interests.”
“Bernarde, we mean no harm to you or your country. Please let us pass and we’ll leave your land,” beseeched Dickens.
“I have learned to not trust anyone!” he spat. “Now you will be arrested and we will soon know why you are here,” the bitter and vengeful man sneered, as he placed his hand upon the pistol at his side.
In the proceeding seconds, Billy frantically tried to think of any way they could escape. His eyes fell on the large hunting knife on the nearby table. He then scanned the ropes holding the tent together. Without another thought, he grabbed the knife. Billy kicked the table over in Bernarde’s direction, momentarily blocking him.
“Run!” he yelled to Jeanie and Dickens.
Billy grabbed a rope and began cutting. The stress on the ropes did the rest of the work and half the tent collapsed. As Bernarde struggled to free himself, Billy was already cutting the rope on the other side. When it snapped, Billy ran to join the others. As he fled, he could hear Bernarde screaming with fury inside the fallen tent and the snickers from the French soldiers who witnessed their escape.
The group quickly got lost in the foray of the army camp. As they made their way through the masses, Billy heard the loud boom of cannon fire. A yell of delight sprang from a man standing beside it. Dickens stopped to stare at this dark haired man.
He was of medium height and build and he wore a black velvet jacket extending to just below the waist. The sleeves were puffed in the current fashion, with golden embroidery around the hem lines. A large white collar circled his neck and his fitted pants reached his knees. From knee to foot he wore white cotton socks, with black pointed shoes on his feet. The man’s hair was dark brown and reached his shoulders. A neat moustache grew over his lips and a small pointed beard on his chin. The man appeared to be of high social status; however, he had the glee and exuberance of a child.
“Yes, yes, do you see it? See how the cannon’s path curves as it soars through the air and is pulled down as it approaches its target? Please, shoot once more. I want to focus on its trajectory. What an excellent example of mathematical application!” the interesting man exclaimed. His eyes were wide and he wore an expression of wonderment on his face.
As he turned his head to the side, he caught a glimpse of the travelers keenly watching him. He looked toward them to relieve his natural curiosity, but stopped to gaze only at Jeanie.
He approached her and bowed low. He took her small hand in his and said, “What lovely blue eyes you have, young lady.” The man stood before them with a cheerful and friendly smile on his face. “I must apologize, but I have a penchant for beautiful eyes and must always tell the lady so,” the jovial man laughed. “Let me introduce myself. My name,” he said with a low bow, “is Rene Descartes.”
Chapter 32
Jeanie smiled up at the dark Frenchman, as he took off his wide brimmed hat and gallantly flourished it about. Billy tried not to laugh at the peacock feathers sticking out of it.
Dickens stepped forward and introduced them. “Thank you sir, my name is Dickens and this is Billy and Jeanie.”
Descartes looked at Dickens closely. “You are English?” he asked with curiosity in his voice.
“Why, yes,” Dickens replied, his eyes twinkling.
“I have never met anyone from England until my present visit to La Rochelle. I had greatly hoped to exchange knowledge with any from your land. What is your profession?” Descartes eagerly asked.
Dickens lips curved into a small smile. “Well, let’s just say that I dabble in numerous subjects and occupations.”
“Are you interested in the science of mathematics?”
“Actually, the subject has been very relative as of late and my study of it has increased. What brings you to the siege? Are you here in an advisory capacity?” Dickens asked nonchalantly.
“I had heard of the blockade they were building across the inlet and decided that I must come and see this wonder of architecture myself.”
“Did you know that sunken ships laid the foundation for it?”
That look of glee entered the Frenchman’s eyes again as he answered, “I had heard of that ingenious idea. However, I have decided to use my time well and investigate other mathematical applications.”
“Yes, I heartily agree. I noticed you observing the cannonballs. I too have noted how the earth pulls objects down, creating a curvature. This new branch of science about the power of the earth and its pull is exceptionally fascinating.”
Descartes just stared at Dickens in thought. “I must tell you I am a very private man. However, I am here to observe and learn. I am greatly interested in your theories, Monsieur Dickens. I would like to invite you and your companions to my tent for the next meal. Then we may continue our conversation, yes?” Billy’s stomach rumbled at the thought of not eating shoes and apples.
“We graciously accept, Monsieur” answered Dickens with a nod of his head and a knowing look in his eyes.
All of a sudden, a commotion came from behind. “There they are!” shouted a very bedraggled and furious Bernarde. “I do not know their purpose here, but their presence is highly suspect, I tell you!”
The pointy face of Bernarde Lapierre stood before the tiny group, British soldiers standing behind him. Billy felt Jeanie clutch the back of his shirt, his own heart in his throat.
“Arrest these imposters!” Bernarde shouted, pointing his bony finger at the travelers.
Billy didn’t have time to react when a big brute of a soldier grabbed both his arms and bent them behind his back, causing him to yell out in pain.
That was when an unexpected voice came to their rescue.
“Are you referring to my friends, Monsieur?” Descartes smoothly inquired, gaining a startled look from Bernarde.
Bernarde’s expression of triumph quickly changed to one of uncertainty. “Um, I, a, um, a no, Monsieur Descartes. I did not know they were acquaintances of yours,” he hastily answered.
Their new friend just tilted his head and smiled. “Yes, they are. Is that all, Monsieur?”
“Yes, yes, I apologize,” Bernarde stammered. He then swiftly fled, leading the soldiers away.
As Billy rubbed his sore arms, he gazed at their unlikely savior and wondered who he really was.
Dickens looked at Descartes with surprise. “Thank you, sir.”
Descartes narrowed his eyes. He smiled and shook his finger as he said, “I can tell you are a man of many secrets, Dickens. I think we will learn much from each other. These,�
�� he waved his hand at Bernarde’s retreating back, “common thinkers! We must protect each other from them. Besides, I did not lie, we are now friends, yes,” he said, laughing at his own wit and led his new found friends to his tent.
Billy closed his eyes as he placed a tender piece of dark meat into his mouth. He didn’t think he had ever tasted anything so delicious in his life. He opened his eyes and gazed at the table before him, laden with rich and mouth-watering foods. There was roasted pig and fowl and boiled vegetables. For dessert, there were pastries stuffed with sweet fruits and much more.
Billy felt like he had died and gone to heaven. If this is what it feels like to not eat for only two days, he was never going to complain about food again, he thought. Jeanie and Dickens were also enjoying their meal but paid closer attention to their host and the conversation taking place.
“You’ve lived in so many places, Monsieur Descartes,” Jeanie gushed, appearing to be captivated by the many fascinating stories told by their host.
“Please, all of you call, me René. And the truth is, it is not because I suffer from wanderlust,” he laughed, as he took a drink of wine. “But because I enjoy my privacy intensely.”
“I don’t know. You seem so friendly and not a bit shy to me,” laughed Jeanie.
Descartes let out a loud chortle. “Young lady, I am French. We are masters of conversation and the art of charm. I secluded myself because of my work, not out of fear of people.”
“Your work?” Jeanie asked, as she cocked her head to the side out of curiosity.
“I don’t know if I am pleased or insulted that you do not know who I am,” he smiled.
“Jeanie, this is Rene Descartes. He is a renowned philosopher, scientist, mathematician and even soldier at one time,” declared Dickens.
Descartes put his hand on his heart and gave the other man a slight nod of the head. “Thank you, Dickens.” Then returning his attention to Jeanie, he said, “But, young lady, it is because of people like you that I retain any sense of humility and remember why I search for truth. It is not for fame.”
“‘I think, therefore, I am,’” quoted Dickens.
“I am not surprised that you know my work, Dickens,” replied Descartes as he lifted his glass to him in salute.
“Hey, I’ve heard of you,” piped up Billy. He could join in on the conversation now that he had finally satisfied his hunger.
Descartes sat back in his chair, raised an eyebrow and asked, “And young man, what else do you know?”
Billy blushed. “Well, not much else, to be honest.” He didn’t really understand what that saying even meant.
“I believe it is our obligation to educate our youth, yes, Dickens?” Descartes smiled as he continued. “Well, it began with my search for truth in its purest form. However, I came upon walls of doubt. In fact, there is a wall of doubt in any strain of thought. I decided then to disregard any concepts which can be doubted, then reorganized them in order to create the groundwork for the pursuit of knowledge. My first established idea was that thought exists. So, as I further pondered this, I came to the conclusion that if I have thoughts, then it must prove I exist. Hence, ‘I think, therefore, I am.’”
“Ya, but, that’s not going to stop anybody from saying they don’t exist. Trust me, where I come from lots of people say weird stuff like that,” countered Billy.
“Well, young man, you say this the next time some upstart philosopher speaks in this way. If you doubt your own existence, these doubts are thoughts. If thoughts exist, your doubts prove your very existence.” As Descartes said this, he sat back and appeared very pleased with himself.
Billy, on the other hand, was having trouble trying to understand what the man was saying. Dickens laughed loudly at Billy’s confused expression.
“Ok, no one can touch thoughts, but you can touch things. Doesn’t that prove if something is real or not?” Billy further argued.
“The mind does not consist of physical material, so it does not follow the laws of nature. We need our physical bodies to interact in the world around us. So, if thoughts exist, so does the fleshy vessels which contain them. All I am saying is that the mind is more reliable than our physical senses. Think of it like this. Sadness is an emotion and is intangible as thoughts are. This non-material expression evokes a physical reaction such as tears. It is further proof of the mind or souls existence. However, the soul cannot live without the body and the body cannot live without the soul. At least not on this plane of existence.”
“What does that mean?” asked Billy.
Descartes looked up and smiled. He took in a deep breath and said, “Places beyond this one. Maybe even a different universe.”
At that moment, Dickens caught Billy’s eye and a flash of realization came upon him. Billy knew that Descartes was the reason they had come to La Rochelle. A knot of excitement formed in Billy’s stomach because he knew the sharp turn the conversation was about to take.
Dickens stared at Descartes with that intense and sharp gaze of his and quietly asked, “Rene, what do you think about other places? They are not upward or downward, but exist horizontally. Yet, still on our plane of existence?”
Descartes’ brow furrowed and he looked at Dickens. “Our world, but not our world? In theory, in order to travel horizontally,” he looked at Dickens puzzled, “it would have to be through time. But that is impossible, sir”
“Rene, cast out all doubts and re-organize them. If one could, perhaps, travel through time, how could it be done?”
“Our bodies are anchored here, so our minds must be also. In theory, you would need a vessel of some type. What is the mode of transportation?”
Billy looked at Rene in surprise. He was shocked that this guy was actually taking this conversation seriously so quickly. Heck, he was shocked that he was taking it seriously at all! Billy felt himself sit up straight and wait anxiously to hear what the man had to say next.
Dickens shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s just say, oh I don’t know, that the vessel is non-physical.”
“Well, if the vessel is immaterial, then it cannot hold a body. Therefore, you would be unable to travel.”
“Let’s say it does hold something, but it is only the human mind.”
“But the body cannot live without the mind.”
“In our physical world, yes, but the vessel is not of the physical world.”
“Well, if this vessel only contains the mind, then logically, it is thought that would control it. There are no hands to steer a helm or feet to spur a horse, it is only thought that would navigate it. So, you would only have to think of a place and your vessel would take you there.”
Billy’s mind raced to understand these words. Thoughts control the Time Sphere! But then that meant they always had the means to go home! Billy looked at Dickens, whose face betrayed these very thoughts.
Billy was stunned with the realization that Dickens had known how to get him and Jeanie home the whole time.
Chapter 33
Jeanie looked from Dickens to Billy and appeared bewildered by the sudden change of atmosphere in the tent.
Billy’s features contorted themselves into a mask of anger, yet, his voice was low and calm as he said in an accusatory tone, “You knew, you knew this whole time didn’t you?”
“Billy, we need to talk about this and here is not the place for such a conversation,” whispered Dickens. His eyes fell on Descartes, who sat at the table with a very confused look on his face.
Billy shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t really care! Everything! Everything that we have been through was for nothing! Jeanie almost died, Dickens!” Billy screamed at the tired looking old man before him.
Dickens rubbed his forehead and wearily asked, “Rene, would you mind taking Jeanie for a stroll? This young man and I need a few moments of privacy.”
With a look of concern in his eyes, Descartes replied, “Of course; come along, my dear.” He quickly took the perplexed girl by the arm and led her ou
t of the tent.
Billy had never felt such rage in his whole life and never had it been directed so forcefully at one person before. Billy stood before Dickens. His fists were clenched and his entire body shook with fury. He had never felt so lied to. That was the worst part. He had come to trust Dickens unlike anyone else in his life.
Suddenly, the betrayal was too much for him and in a hurt voice he asked, “Why did you do this?”
Dickens’ bright blue eyes gleamed with regret and he took a step toward the angry young man. “Trust me, Billy, I did what I had to do.”
“What, lie?”
“Yes. I accept full responsibility for my misleading you and Jeanie.”
“You still lied! A lie is a lie!” Billy said, his eyes narrowing to slits full of blame.
Dickens took in a deep breath and turned his back to him, “You’re right. What I did was wrong.”
Billy grabbed the old man by the arm and forced him to look him in the face. “Just tell me why you did it!” he said in a desperate voice.
Dickens jaw tightened and he replied, “It is sometimes said that the journey is more significant than the destination. In this instance, the journey itself was imperative to our success.”
“Stop talking in riddles! For once, just say it without all of the mystery!”
As Dickens gazed down at Billy, his expression changed from one of repentance to one of fierce determination. “Quite frankly, Billy, you were not ready to do what needs to be done!”
“I’m done with people telling me who I need to be and what I need to know and need to do. And you know what, who do you think you are? You’re not my father!” Billy yelled.
Dickens’ eyes took on that brilliant cast that Billy had come to know so well. “No, I’m not. I’m actually someone who has more of a say about you than anyone else.”
“I don’t think so,” Billy scowled.
Dickens reached out and grabbed onto Billy’s arms, and in a voice filled with a desperate need to be heard, he said, “Billy, I am you.” He gazed down at the boy before him and waited for him to understand his words.