Read Online Salamander by Thomas Wharton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Thomas Wharton
Ads: Link
learned to fill and lock up a chase in half the time it took Flood himself.
He could be Mongol, Iroquois, from the Moon
, the Count had said,
for all he can tell you of his earliest memories
. Which, when at last Flood was able to converse with the boy, amounted to little more than a hazily recollected glimpse of green hills beyond the flap of a tent, and in what seemed to be a memory from a slightly later time, his own feet, foreshortened in water, kicking lazily next to those of someone else, a girl who seemed to be alittle older than he, since he was listening – but in what language he could not remember – as she instructed him to watch out for the biting turtles.
As the days passed he became familiar enough with the Count’s system to be no longer startled by walls, floors, and people vanishing and popping up where they were not expected. He looked forward to every opportunity to see and talk with Irena, yet often found his attempts frustrated by the metamorphic nature of the castle. On his way to fetch ink or water for cleaning the type, he would glimpse the Countess at the other end of a corridor. Hastily, but with what he hoped was the appearance of nonchalance, he would head in her direction, only to have the corridor bifurcate in front of him so that Irena slipped away down one passage and he was sent stumbling into another. He would wander into an unfamiliar region of the castle from which a servant had to help him find his way back.
Often he leaned back from his work table to see the Count on a higher gallery, circling the central hollow of the castle and gazing down like a watchful hawk.
7:00 a.m. Wake, get out of bed, wash at revolving basin, dress.
7:15 a.m. Pluck breakfast from cart while descending to mezzanine level to pick up fresh sheets for the day’s work. From there leap onto passing shelf containing collected works of Leibniz and step off into the upper clock works. Duck immediately to avoid getting coat caught in gears.
7:25 a.m. If clothing & self still intact, return to platform and commence work.
8:00 a.m. – 2:00 p.m. Work.
2:01 p.m. Eat remainder of breakfast among moving shelves until north wall panel swivels open. Dash through, blocking panel with large book to provide quick route of escape. Climb stairs to observatory level and stand at oriel window.
2:15 p.m. Irena takes daily stroll along terrace with Abbé. (What do they talk about?) If she glances up, remember: smile, do not stare.
2:16 p.m. Return to work by circuitous route (must remember map next time) to avoid Count. Remove jammed book from wall panel to avoid suspicion.
2:30 p.m. – 7:00 p.m. Work.
7:01 p.m. Take refreshment and await invitation to dine with Count.
7:30 p.m. If no invitation forthcoming, return to work.
Hurrying to keep pace with the huge moving bed, Flood handed the Count a single blank sheet.
– I’ve been working on the book of mirrors you asked about, he said. If I can make the paper reflective, the words will reproduce each other and thus repeat the text endlessly.
The old man, propped up on a bastion of pillows, a tasselled nightcap on his head, turned the paper over and over.
– An intriguing notion. Has it yielded a result?
– I’m still working on a gloss for the paper, he said. One that will reflect light yet hold ink. This stage has proved more difficult than I expected.
The Count thrust the sheet back at Flood.
– Try something else, he said as his bed rolled away. Toy around. See what you can do.
– There’s another difficulty, Excellency, Flood said, trotting to keep up. I haven’t replaced my type for quite some time. The faces are getting worn out, and it’s beginning to show on the page.
– One wonders, Mr. Flood, if you take proper care of your tools.
Flood bit his lip.
– I’ve filed and polished, but the metal will take only so much of that. To speak plainly, I don’t think my type is quite up to the task.
The Count pulled at the wings of his
He could be Mongol, Iroquois, from the Moon
, the Count had said,
for all he can tell you of his earliest memories
. Which, when at last Flood was able to converse with the boy, amounted to little more than a hazily recollected glimpse of green hills beyond the flap of a tent, and in what seemed to be a memory from a slightly later time, his own feet, foreshortened in water, kicking lazily next to those of someone else, a girl who seemed to be alittle older than he, since he was listening – but in what language he could not remember – as she instructed him to watch out for the biting turtles.
As the days passed he became familiar enough with the Count’s system to be no longer startled by walls, floors, and people vanishing and popping up where they were not expected. He looked forward to every opportunity to see and talk with Irena, yet often found his attempts frustrated by the metamorphic nature of the castle. On his way to fetch ink or water for cleaning the type, he would glimpse the Countess at the other end of a corridor. Hastily, but with what he hoped was the appearance of nonchalance, he would head in her direction, only to have the corridor bifurcate in front of him so that Irena slipped away down one passage and he was sent stumbling into another. He would wander into an unfamiliar region of the castle from which a servant had to help him find his way back.
Often he leaned back from his work table to see the Count on a higher gallery, circling the central hollow of the castle and gazing down like a watchful hawk.
7:00 a.m. Wake, get out of bed, wash at revolving basin, dress.
7:15 a.m. Pluck breakfast from cart while descending to mezzanine level to pick up fresh sheets for the day’s work. From there leap onto passing shelf containing collected works of Leibniz and step off into the upper clock works. Duck immediately to avoid getting coat caught in gears.
7:25 a.m. If clothing & self still intact, return to platform and commence work.
8:00 a.m. – 2:00 p.m. Work.
2:01 p.m. Eat remainder of breakfast among moving shelves until north wall panel swivels open. Dash through, blocking panel with large book to provide quick route of escape. Climb stairs to observatory level and stand at oriel window.
2:15 p.m. Irena takes daily stroll along terrace with Abbé. (What do they talk about?) If she glances up, remember: smile, do not stare.
2:16 p.m. Return to work by circuitous route (must remember map next time) to avoid Count. Remove jammed book from wall panel to avoid suspicion.
2:30 p.m. – 7:00 p.m. Work.
7:01 p.m. Take refreshment and await invitation to dine with Count.
7:30 p.m. If no invitation forthcoming, return to work.
Hurrying to keep pace with the huge moving bed, Flood handed the Count a single blank sheet.
– I’ve been working on the book of mirrors you asked about, he said. If I can make the paper reflective, the words will reproduce each other and thus repeat the text endlessly.
The old man, propped up on a bastion of pillows, a tasselled nightcap on his head, turned the paper over and over.
– An intriguing notion. Has it yielded a result?
– I’m still working on a gloss for the paper, he said. One that will reflect light yet hold ink. This stage has proved more difficult than I expected.
The Count thrust the sheet back at Flood.
– Try something else, he said as his bed rolled away. Toy around. See what you can do.
– There’s another difficulty, Excellency, Flood said, trotting to keep up. I haven’t replaced my type for quite some time. The faces are getting worn out, and it’s beginning to show on the page.
– One wonders, Mr. Flood, if you take proper care of your tools.
Flood bit his lip.
– I’ve filed and polished, but the metal will take only so much of that. To speak plainly, I don’t think my type is quite up to the task.
The Count pulled at the wings of his
Similar Books
