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“We’ve got to shut down the system as soon as possible,” Celeste declared. She was being understandably impatient, Jeanne thought. After all, the engineer’s very country was at stake and none of them knew how much time they had until Project Alset was operational. However, acting rashly could—and probably would—cost them dearly.
“We can’t just go charging in blindly,” Pierre said. “We need solid information. First thing’s first: We need to find out when they plan to carry out their plan.”
“Then let’s come up with a plan,” Jeanne said, and then added to Pierre and Victor, “After you two take the Marquis to the brig.”
***
Later that evening, Jeanne found Celeste slaving away in the core of the Minuit Solaire II. On a steam-powered airship, that would have been the boiler room. However, their stolen Austrian dirigible was powered by electricity, so there were no boilers or coal or burning fires.
Celeste was using a wrench to tighten a bolt in the bulkhead when she noticed her commander had entered the room. “Oh, milady! Welcome to engine room. Most of the important functions of the ship originate here.”
“Is that so?” Jeanne said, looking around the two-story room. A flight of stairs led down to the lower level. There weren’t any lights on down there, so Jeanne couldn’t see what it housed.
“Yes. The whole thing’s actually pretty complex. It’s a miracle we’ve managed to fly this beast with so few people.”
“That simply speaks to your abilities as an engineer.”
“Thank you, milady.”
“You’re quite welcome. But actually…I didn’t come here to talk about the ship. Or even the mission.”
“Oh? Then what did you want to talk about?” Celeste asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
“I wanted to talk about you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Something’s been bothering me ever since we arrived here. Earlier when Pierre commented about you living all alone out here, you said you were used to it. What did you mean by that?”
Celeste turned away from her. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was hoping you would forget I did.”
“Listen, if you don’t want to talk about it…”
Shaking her head, Celeste said, “No, now that it’s out, I think…I think I need to tell someone. And you’re the person I trust most in this world, milady.” She turned back around to face Jeanne. “Can you promise you won’t tell anyone about this?”
Jeanne nodded and said, “Your secret will be safe with me. That is…if you really feel you’re ready to tell me.”
Celeste took a deep breath, held it in for a moment, and then let it out. “All right, here it is. You see, I’m not exactly who people think I am. You remember the first time we met, right?”
She nodded. “It was a year and a half ago. Her Majesty brought you to my office. She said you were the most promising engineer in France, having graduated head of your class at L’Académie des Sciences.”
“That was only partially true,” Celeste said, averting her gaze momentarily. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“What do you mean?”
“My real name is Eloise Rose de Versailles-Champlaine.”
Once again, Jeanne believed there was positively no way she had heard correctly. “I hope you’re joking, Celeste. Either way, it’s not funny. The entire Versailles-Champlaine family was brutally murdered twelve years ago.” The family they were talking about was a noble house formerly located in Versailles. One cold winter morning, they were all found butchered on their family’s estate. Despite an investigation, no clues to the identity of the perpetrator were ever found, and the case was eventually dropped.
“Not all of them. The youngest daughter escaped,” Celeste said.
“All bodies were accounted for,” Jeanne insisted.
Celeste shook her head firmly. “With all due respect, milady…I was there. I saw the monster that did it. He was covered all in black and had a long tentacle-like arm. My family’s guards managed to hold him off long enough for me to escape.”
That sounded disturbingly familiar to Jeanne. “A ‘long tentacle-like arm’? Wait…you don’t mean…”
Celeste gave a macabre confirmation to Jeanne’s suspicions. “It had to have been the Count of Saint-Germaine. When I saw him on the royal family’s airship, I knew.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I was so happy when you killed him.”
Jeanne considered the young girl’s story. Celeste’s display of emotion was so convincing. If the horrific tale was true, it made sense on a sick level. “The Count of Saint-Germaine was a master of alchemy. If anyone could create a fake corpse to fool people into thinking you were dead, he could.”
“But…why would he go to the trouble of making a dummy of me in the first place?”
Jeanne said, “If someone sent him to murder your family—which I believe likely considering he was Robespierre’s dog when we met him—he wouldn’t want it to look like he didn’t finish the job. He probably created the fake corpse to show his boss he had succeeded. Now,” she said, continuing on, “as I recall, the Versailles-Champlaine family was heavily critical of the monarchy. For a long time after the murders, suspicion rested on the king and queen. I, for one, never believed they were capable of such barbarism. It is entirely possible someone had the Count kill the Versailles-Champlaine family in order to both eliminate some nobles and damage the monarchy’s reputation.”
Celeste’s expression suggested they were thinking the same thing. “Robespierre?”
Jeanne nodding, saying, “I certainly wouldn’t put it past him. He’s always had it out for both the nobles and the royal family.”
“We have to stop him!” Celeste pleaded. “Otherwise…otherwise…” She abruptly broke down and began sobbing.
Jeanne embraced her with a comforting hug. “We’re going to. This I swear.”
***
After Celeste calmed down, she accompanied Jeanne to the captain’s cabin. They sat at the table and Celeste finished telling her story to Jeanne. “After I fled from the estate, I just kept wandering east. I didn’t go to the royal family for help because at the time I believed they were responsible for what happened to my family. So, I just kept walking in a sort of daze. I didn’t know who I could trust, so I ran from everyone who approached me.
“Eventually I found myself in Le Junkyard. There were so many hiding places in here; I decided to stay for a while. One day, I found a discarded book on engineering and began reading it. I discovered I had a talent for it, even though I was only six years old. I spent the next few years reading it over and over again, each time understanding it a little more. After a while I became confident enough to try experiments with all the materials lying around in this place. Let’s just say…they were not entirely…successful.”
“What do you mean?”
Celeste shifted awkwardly in her seat. “I sort of caused an explosion that could be seen from Paris.”
“You did that?” Jeanne gaped.
“Uh-huh. You’d be surprised how much explosive material is lying around in Le Junkyard. Anyway, I was knocked out for quite a while, during which time the king sent scouts to investigate. They found me lying unconscious out there and brought me to the palace in Versailles. After they treated my wounds the king and queen tried to get me to tell them who I was. Well, I wasn’t about to tell them the truth, since I still suspected them of the attack on my family, so I convinced them I was a lowly orphan—a lowly orphan who just happened to have a genius IQ. Her Majesty took pity on me, an orphan with so much potential, and had me enrolled in L’Académie des Sciences. The rest you already know.”
“That’s amazing,” was all Jeanne could say.
“You’re the only person I’ve ever spoken to about my past. Please don’t tell the others about this.”
Jeanne again assured her, “I promise. If the day comes when you are ready, you can tell them yourself. Until then, we’ll keep this just between us.”
“Thank you so much for hearing me out, milady. I feel like a great weight has been lifted off me.”
“I’m glad I was able to help. You’ve been carrying that pain around for a long time, as it seems we all have.”
Perplexed, Celeste asked, “What do you mean?”
“You’re not the only one on this ship who’s had to shoulder a heavy burden. But you know, as long as you have friends to support you, I believe you can overcome any problem. Rest assured, we will always be there for you, Celeste…or should I call you Eloise?”
“Celeste works just fine,” she said, beaming a radiant smile. “It may not be the name I was born with, but it’s the name I chose for myself, and I think…it’s who I am now.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Listen,” Celeste said suddenly, “Do you mind if we change the subject now? There’s something else I would like to talk to you about, milady.”
“I suppose not. What is it?”
“I was wondering what the plan will be when we storm the Tuileries.”
“I’m still working on that,” Jeanne admitted. “But I do have an idea of how we’re going to do reconnaissance of the central tower.”
“How?”
“The Marquis mentioned a scientist who is in charge of the thing. I think we need to pay him a visit. Discreetly.”
6
Paris, France, April 11, 1789 (Infini Calendar), 8:09 p.m.
Having just got off work at the Tuileries, Adrien sat down at the bench overlooking the Seine to eat his dinner. He did this every night after work. It was part of his routine; he found the fresh air and sound of the lapping waters to be relaxing after a hard day of dealing with Robespierre’s ever-increasing demands.
Adrien found himself more and more exhausted after each day, his fatigue rising proportionally with Robespierre’s impatience. The leader of the Assembly wanted the Alset Project completed as quickly as (in)humanly possible.
As he ate his baguette, found himself once again dwelling on his mounting fear. His boss had limited patience to begin with, and each sunset brought it closer to snapping. When that happened, Adrien was scared Robespierre would send his terrifying executioner, Madame Tussaud, to punish him for his failure to complete the project. Or maybe he would send his right hand, Napoléon, to do it. Both prospects worried Adrien equally.
And even if the project was completed on time and successfully wiped out Vienna, could he live with the knowledge of what he’d done? Yes, the Austrians had lately been their enemies, but they were just as human as he was.
What was he going to do?
“It’s a beautiful night, don’t you think?”
Startled, Adrien turned to see a man sitting to his right on the bench. Adrien had been so lost in thought he hadn’t even noticed the man sitting down. “Uh…yeah, I guess.”
“Just getting off work?” the stranger asked. He had short brown hair and was wearing nondescript Parisian clothing. In short, he looked just like every other Frenchman in his mid-twenties.
“Yeah.” If Adrien were any other citizen of Paris, he would probably brag about his important job at the Tuileries. However, given the doubts and fears he had been in the process of dwelling over when this guy showed up, he didn’t feel like it.
“You have an important job, don’t you?”
“Maybe.” What was he getting at?
“In fact, you look like the kind of fellow on whose shoulders the future of an entire country rests.”
Adrien was getting annoyed and nervous at the same time. “What do you want?”
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