Secrets of the New World (Infini Calendar) (Volume 2)

by Scott Kinkade

  “This is but the first of many fruitful meetings between our countries, I hope,” Washington replied. They shook hands.

  The Austrians boarded the Hapsburg Pride. Farahilde helped Frederick along, as he had not yet fully recovered from his injuries. Washington and Jeanne waved at them as the ship pulled away from the dock.

  Everyone went below deck to escape the cold, except for Farahilde. She just stood at the railing, staring ahead blankly. Eventually Frederick hobbled out to stand beside her. “You’ll get sick if you keep standing out here,” he said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Is something bothering you? Is it what that Gnostagar said, about your sister having been one of them?”

  “I know my sister,” she said. “She wasn’t evil. She couldn’t have been one of those monsters. And yet…”

  “And yet you still have doubts.”

  “Is it just a coincidence she championed the same technology the Gnostagar have been pushing?”

  “Probably. It seems to me that if she was one of them, she would have been able to fight off the mob that killed her.”

  But she said, “Maybe the Gnostagar women don’t have the same abilities as the men. Maybe they’re just as helpless as most humans.”

  “You could spend the rest of your life worrying about this, and perhaps go mad,” he said. “Or you could accept Antonia Johanna for who you knew her to be: a kind, loving sister.”

  Several silent moments passed as she thought about it. Then, “You’re right. It doesn’t matter what some otherworld monster tells me my sister was. To me, she will always be Antonia.”

  He nodded happily. “I’m glad to hear that. Now—let’s go inside. It’s cold, and we have a long journey across the seas ahead of us.”

  She followed him into the hold of the ship. “I hope more pirates show up.”

  END

  Brilliant Dawn

  1

  Paris, France, September 1, 1788 (Infini Calendar), 12:00 p.m.

  Jeanne de Fleur followed the caskets as they were carried through the streets of Paris. This was a dark day for France, and the weather lent everyone its sympathy with a dark sky full of clouds.

  As vice-commander of the Ordre de la Tradition, Jeanne was the highest-ranking member still alive. One of the men in the coffins, Rene Assange, used to hold that honor. Sadly, he had died in a recent mission, and they were bringing his body home to be interred. Their path today led through the city, eventually ending at Notre Dame Cathedral. The magnificent church, with its gothic architecture, dual high towers and flying buttresses, was a fitting place to end the story of Rene Assange, she thought.

  In the other casket was another knight, lesser ranked than Assange, but no less a valuable comrade, was Bernard Sarcozi. He had been the third seat of the Ordre, and a good friend to Jeanne.

  For this occasion Jeanne wore her irodium armor as usual, except her skirt and eye patch were black as a sign of mourning.

  Following behind her were the crew of the Justice Ethérée (Ethereal Justice), the Ordre’s sailing vessel and primary mode of transportation outside of France. Their mourning attire consisted of black robes.

  All of Paris had come out to pay their respects. Crowds of people lined both sides of the street as the procession passed through. The knights of the Ordre were the highly respected defenders of France, and Rene Assange had been the one the people loved most.

  Soon the procession passed over the Pont au Double, a bridge over the Seine. North on the other side of that bridge, on the island in the midst of the Seine known as the Île de la Cité, was Notre Dame Cathedral.

  They entered the church, and Jeanne was once again struck by just how large it was. Its vaulted ceiling rose a little over one hundred feet above their heads, making the inside of the church feel more like an enormous cavern. Furthermore, a veritable sea of chairs stretched out across the nave, while beautiful stained-glass windows allowed sunlight into the cathedral and chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

  Jeanne took her place at the first row of chairs up front. The cardinal then began the mass. “Deus est palma. Palma est Deus.” God is glory. Glory is God. They were supposed be celebrating the life of these men who had died, but Jeanne’s heart just wasn’t in it. Right now, she wanted to be anywhere but here.

  The cardinal conducted the mass, but she wasn’t even paying attention. All she could think about was how the Ordre would continue without the man who had been its pillar for so long.

  She wasn’t sure it could.

  ***

  The Palace of Versailles, September 2, 1788 (Infini Calendar), 12:00 p.m.

  The next day, Jeanne was called to a meeting with Louis XVI at his palace. She knelt before the king in his throne room. “Thank you for coming, Jeanne.” As the absolute ruler of France, he had hand-picked her to join the Ordre, and its base of operations was within the palace.

  “I do as you command,” she replied. Her skirt and eye patch were once again purple, though her heart still felt black.

  “The loss of Rene Assange has hit all of France particularly hard,” he said. “But there is no more time to mourn. I am sending you on a new mission, and you must be ready to move out within twenty-four hours.”

  She felt as if a tremendous blow had just struck her. “A mission? But…who will lead it? We are without leadership!”

  He shook his head. “The Ordre is not without leadership. I chose you to join it with the intention of one day appointing you its leader. That day is today. From this point forward, you are Jeanne de Fleur, Commander of the Ordre de la Tradition.”

  “I…” She wanted to argue with him, but she knew that would be exceedingly foolish; he was her king, and his word was absolute. So she simply said weakly, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  He smiled. “Do not worry, Jeanne. You will not be alone. The pyramid is, after all, is the strongest structure in nature. The trinity of the Ordre must be preserved. Therefore, I have appointed two new knights to assist you. They will be reporting to the commander’s office—your office, now—later today.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do my best. What is our mission?”

  He shifted in his chair. “As you know, our economy is in a terrible state. If it does not improve soon, I fear the people may become violent.

  “Fortunately, it seems providence is on our side. Our spy in Spain has reported back that a Spanish galleon bringing gold from the Americas recently went down off the coast of Corunna. He has provided us with the approximate coordinates of the site. You must go salvage the gold before the Spanish do.”

  “That’s not too far from France,” she said. “But it’s still the territory of the Kingdom of Spain. The Justice Ethérée was badly damaged in our recent battle with pirates.” She avoided mentioning the deaths of her comrades in that fight. “How will we get there in time to salvage the gold?”

  “Your ambush by pirates has made it clear the Ordre needs more advanced weapons. Hence, I am giving you the Minuit Solaire. Since the Majesté Divine nears completion, we no longer need it. Fly to the site of the sunken galleon and retrieve the gold.”

  Jeanne nodded. “Understood.”

  ***

  After leaving Louis XVI, Jeanne headed over to the Ordre’s barracks in another part of the palace. She entered Assange’s office—her office, she had to remind herself—and took a seat at her new desk.

  Unlike the rest of the palace (or really, anything belonging to the royal family), the office was of mostly spartan design. A simple wooden desk; a weapon rack filled with sharp blades; paintings of the king and queen. Those were really the room’s only furnishings.

  Jeanne sighed. She missed Rene Assange. He had been her mentor. She trusted him with her life, but now he was gone and she knew she could never replace him.

  There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” she said. Though she didn’t at all feel like having visitors, she still had a job to do.

  Two men entered. The one on the right was an average-loo
king young man with long dark hair, while the other was a massive physical specimen with almond skin; Jeanne had never seen anything like him. Both wore French Army uniforms.

  “We were ordered to report to the Commander,” the large man said. His demeanor seemed rigid. He was all business.

  “That we were,” the other added. He had a care-free attitude and looked to be the opposite of his associate.

  Jeanne said, “I am the Commander. Are you the new knights His Majesty was supposed to send?”

  The large man’s eyes went wide. “This girl is our leader? Ridiculous!”

  Jeanne was never in the mood to be insulted, but today was a particularly bad day to do it. She leapt from her chair and strode over to the big lout. “You are speaking to a superior officer,” she said. “And yes—this girl is your leader. If you don’t like it, get out.”

  His face went red. He obviously couldn’t believe he had just been spoken to like that. Before he could say anything further, though, the smaller plain-looking man intervened. “You’ll have to pardon him, Commander. He’s not used to women officers.”

  Jeanne snorted. “Obviously.”

  He elbowed the big man, and they both snapped to attention. “Second Lieutenant Victor Mont-Hume, reporting for duty!”

  “First Lieutenant Pierre Girard, reporting for duty!”

  “That’s better,” Jeanne said. She returned to her desk. “From this point forward, you are both knights of the Ordre de la Tradition. I expect you both to act with the honor that title carries. Am I understood?”

  They both replied, “Yes, Commander.”

  “Report back here at fifteen-hundred-hours for a briefing on tomorrow’s mission. Dismissed.”

  ***

  Pierre and Victor left Commander de Fleur’s office and headed down the hall to their respective rooms. One of the privileges of being a knight in the Ordre was having your own lodging.

  As they walked, Victor laughed. “I thought she was going to run your goods through with her rapier then and there.”

  Pierre tried to shrug it off. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just thought our commander would be…you know…older.”

  “And male? That’s my fantasy, not yours.”

  “You’re…like that?”

  He nodded. “That I am.”

  “A-Anyway…I wasn’t expecting a young woman. Wasn’t the previous commander in his forties?”

  Victor shrugged. “He died unexpectedly. What can you do? If it makes you feel any better, it’s obvious she isn’t any happier about this than you are.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Of course. Didn’t you see how on-edge she was in there? She hates her new assignment.”

  Pierre stopped to consider that for a moment. “That could be a problem.”

  “Yes, it could. If a leader doesn’t want to lead, how can missions be carried out?”

  “I don’t know.”

  ***

  Later, Jeanne walked down the opulent halls of the palace to clear her head. However, she paid absolutely no attention to the gold trimmings, beautiful paintings or massive ornate windows.

  This wasn’t how she was supposed to have taken command of the Ordre. It should have happened years from now, with Rene Assange retired but still offering her advice whenever she needed it. Now, he couldn’t help her at all.

  “Oh, Jeanne! I’m glad you’re here.” She turned around, and there was the queen, Marie Antoinette, decked out in a fabulous turquoise dress. Jeanne knelt before her. “Oh, you don’t need to be so formal with me. Rise.”

  Jeanne obeyed, but kept her right hand over her chest in deference to her queen. “To what do I owe this honor, Your Majesty?”

  “There’s someone I want you to meet.” The queen indicated her companion, a teenage girl with short brown hair and glasses. She wore a uniform Jeanne recognized as that of a student. “This is Celeste. She just graduated top of her class from L’Académie des Sciences.” Celeste bowed to Jeanne.

  “Ah…” Jeanne shook the girl’s tiny hand. “Nice to meet you, Celeste,” Jeanne said.

  “Likewise,” the girl replied.

  “Congratulations on your academic success.”

  Celeste blushed. “Oh, it’s nothing compared to the commendations you’ve received in the military.”

  “Thank you. You’re very polite.”

  “It’s just the way I was raised, ma’am.”

  The queen then said, “I wanted to introduce you to Celeste because I’m assigning her to your crew as the Ordre’s head engineer.”

  “Isn’t she a bit young?” Jeanne asked. “I know you said she graduated top of her class, but…”

  “She may be young, but she has a brilliant mind. I’ve observed that for myself. And since my husband is giving you our former airship, you will need someone with her knowledge taking care of it.”

  “Very well,” Jeanne said. She trusted Her Majesty’s judgment. “Celeste, report to my office at fifteen-hundred-hours for the briefing.”

  Celeste gave her an energetic salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

  ***

  At fifteen-hundred-hours Celeste—along with the two newly-appointed knights Pierre and Victor—gathered around Jeanne’s table in her office. A map of Europe was spread out before them.

  “Here is the area we’ll be heading to tomorrow, once the Minuit Solaire is fully outfitted for the mission. Our intel says the Spanish galleon ran aground in shallow waters. We’re going to attach cables to it and drag it to shore, then load the gold onto the Solaire. Pierre, I’m told you have diving experience. Is that true?”

  “Yes, Commander. As a boy, swimming was a hobby of mine.” His hands were behind his back in a very professional manner. Perhaps he was trying to make up for his insolence earlier? It was a good sign, Jeanne thought.

  “Good. You’ll be responsible for attaching the cables.”

  “What will be my role?” Victor asked.

  “Back-up diver in case anything happens to Pierre. I understand you’re also an experienced swimmer.” He nodded, apparently satisfied. “Celeste, you’ll be overseeing the entire operation of the airship. Make sure she has enough power to get the job done.”

  “Understood!”

  “We leave at oh-eight-hundred. Anyone who is late gets left behind and kicked out of the Ordre. Dismissed.”

  ***

  An hour later, Jeanne visited the airship landing pads behind the palace. At this point in time there were only two pads, but there were plans for more as France’s airship fleet grew.

  The Minuit Solaire was currently resting on the left pad. A crew of engineers swarmed around it, ensuring its proper maintenance.

  Celeste strode up to Jeanne. The Ordre’s new head engineer was now wearing dirty overalls. “Hello, Commander. Did you come to check out the Solaire.”

  Jeanne nodded. “It’s my responsibility to make sure everyone is doing their job. Not that I don’t trust you.” Jeanne couldn’t honestly say she trusted any of her new subordinates, but felt it best she not say that.

  Celeste asked her, “Have you ever ridden on it before?”

  “Once. The king and queen invited me aboard the maiden voyage. That was the first time I ever left the ground. It was amazing.”

  “This is a dream come true for me,” Celeste said. “I love machines.”

  Jeanne looked at her. “You almost sound like you prefer the company of machines to actual people.”

  Celeste looked away, embarrassed. “Machines can’t hurt you. Only people can hurt you.”

  “Well…all right?” There were certainly a few strange people in the Ordre now.

  “N-Not that I have anything against people. It’s just…machines are predictable. They only do what you tell them to.”

  This conversation was getting bizarre, so Jeanne decided to get back to the business at hand. “Can you show me around the Solaire. I need to familiarize myself with its layout.”

  “It would be my ple
asure, ma’am.”

  They climbed the rope ladder hanging off the hull and entered the hatch on the deck. They went down the ladder, whereupon Celeste showed Jeanne the bridge, followed by the various crew cabins and Harpoon Control. The latter was a cramped space which held metal rods connected to thick cables. These were what they would use to pull the Spanish galleon to shore. Jeanne felt them to satisfy herself as to their thickness. They would have to be very strong to pull an entire ship without breaking.

  Next was the engine room. Jeanne had a working understanding of steam power, but she would have to rely on Celeste for the running of the airship.

  When they returned to the landing pad, Jeanne said, “Thank you, Celeste, for showing me around.”

  “Don’t mention it, ma’am. If there’s anything you need, just say the word.”

  “Actually, there is one other thing. Do you know how to defend yourself if attacked?”

  “Well...not really. I’m not a soldier.”

  Jeanne said, “I can teach you a few moves, if you’d like.”

  Celeste’s eyes lit up with both fear and excitement. “R-Really?”

  “Of course.”

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  “You mean…right here?”

  Jeanne nodded. “Sure; there’s plenty of room on this landing pad and not many people around.”

  “Um…all right. Just promise you’ll go easy on me.”

  She smiled. “I promise.”

  2

  Off the coast of Spain, September 3, 1788 (Infini Calendar), 10:00 a.m.

  The Minuit Solaire left Versailles and flew southwest, eventually coming to the coordinates given to them by Louis XVI. This was a shallow area just off Corunna on the northwest tip of the Kingdom of Spain. The weather was clear on this day.

  The airship landed in the water over where the sunk galleon was supposed to be, and the knights, along with Celeste, gathered up on deck. Pierre was inside a bulky diving suit, his head covered by a cumbersome round helmet.