will change. My own generals are skeptics, but the reason I’m emperor and they are not is that I have the vision to imagine a better world, while they have the perspective of pygmies.”
“You do understand that Sidney Smith has a different view.” My tone was dry. Every nation edits history, and no one likes to be called a pygmy.
“I understand that as a neutral you see both sides, which only confuses you.” He moved to look at the map. “And I understand that in your adventures with this Martel, who has completely disappeared”—he cast a glance in my direction—“you did find an Aztec artifact that looks like some kind of mechanical bird.”
“I don’t think it’s of practical use.”
“Show it.”
So I took the curious object out. A helmeted man on a delta-shaped machine, but with no detail on how it might work. The solid gold was heavy and smooth. I handed it over. Good men had died to retrieve it.
Napoleon rubbed the ornament with his fingers. “A pretty toy.”
“Maybe they did fly, but I think you’d have to find the actual machine to copy them, not this representation. To learn from this is like trying to build a Napoleon from the image on a Legion of Honor medal.”
He smiled at the analogy. “Is there a different place we should search?”
“This came from an underwater cave, but there were no other clues. Maybe the Spanish know more in Mexico.”
“Perhaps I should ally with Spain.” He handed it back. “Men are beginning to dream of flight. Have you heard of an English inventor named Cayley?”
I was sweating again. Did he know of our insane escape from Fort de Joux? “Never heard of him,” I lied.
“He’s trying to emulate birds. Well.” Napoleon looked at me skeptically. “Show this to my savants; maybe it will inspire them to leap the Channel. In the meantime, I want to put you all to more immediate work.”
“All?”
“Confer with Duhèsme this summer on skirmishing tactics. I know you’re not an officer, but you’ve observed fighting prowess from the Mamelukes to Red Indians. You’re worldly, and you can share some of that wisdom with my officers.”
“Betraying England.” It’s damn hard feeling noble about yourself while working for both sides, and I felt like a fly in a European web, trying to negotiate my way under constantly changing circumstances. I admired Napoleon, and feared him. Smith was my ally, but England was America’s frequent foe. I needed a chart to sort my sentiments out.
“Hardly. Send them coded letters from inside our camp about exactly what we’re doing. Emphasize the quality of our regiments, which I’m certain you’ll find impressive. Confirm my popularity, which will be repaired from the recent gale. We simply ask to read your letters first, and suggest amendments that might make Britain sue for peace.”
Napoleon took pride in finding the special utility of each man, and each man’s weakness. He took comfort in judging me an opportunistic scoundrel because he was one himself. Napoleon liked me because he thought I was so incorrigible that I couldn’t judge him.
But I’d changed. Mostly.
I cleared my throat. “Advise Duhèsme for how long?”
“A month or two, and then back to Paris to confer with my savants. Monge, you know; he continues to improve my artillery. I fired a monster mortar myself the other day.”
“Your hearing has recovered?”
He ignored this. “The mining engineer Mathieu has proposed we dig a tunnel to England. My adjutant Quatremère Disjonual has proposed we train dolphins to carry sharpshooters across the Channel, or infiltrate saboteurs by diving bells.”
I didn’t say anything of my own diving bell experience.
“Jean-Charles Thilorier,” he went on, “has an idea for gigantic balloons.”
“Franklin had the same notion.”
“All I want is your habitual skepticism, married to your considerable imagination. Your mind works in strange ways. The notion that men flew in ancient times makes it possible we’ll fly again. Share your bauble with my scientists.”
Since I constantly question my own worth, I am susceptible to flattery. We all wish to be useful. I glanced at Astiza, who had an expression of careful neutrality. She was more suspicious of the Corsican and yet said nothing, because she was still wondering why she was here at all.
“I’m hard-pressed,” I said, to say something. “Réal mentioned a salary?”
He waved his hand. “Yes, yes, you’re on his payroll—take up the details with him. I’ll give you a letter testifying to your mission.”
“I appreciate your confidence, Your . . . Majesty.”
“I’m not confident in you at all, Gage, but