The Game Called Revolution, - [ebook reader 8 inch .txt] 📗

yards out of the forest before a familiar sound cut through the morning silence from somewhere overheard: the sound of an airship’s engines. “Do you hear that? It’s the Minuit Solaire. Oh, Jeanne, what are you doing here? You’re going to announce our presence to every—”

Jean-Paul stopped as he realized the sound wasn’t coming from the southwest as it should have been if it had come from France. Within a few moments it flew in low up ahead of them. The early sun glinted off the vessel, and he immediately knew something was very wrong here.

Dumouriez said it first. “It’s black. A black airship!”

Indeed, the vessel heading towards them wasn’t silver like the Minuit Solaire or the royal family’s airship the Majesté Divine. Instead, it was a dark, foreboding black. Also, as it got closer Jean-Paul noticed the sound of its engines was different as well. He couldn’t describe it in words, but something about the sound sent shivers up his backside.

When it came to about thirty feet overhead, Jean-Paul could see the words “Blitzkrieg Rache” painted on the side of the airship. Based on what little German he knew, that translated to “Lightning War Vengeance.” He also noticed long metal spikes jutting out from various points on the hull. He could feel it clearly; this thing was a war machine.

He yelled behind him, “Steam cannons, fire!”

Lumbering out of the forest behind him were two metal cylinders, each one sitting atop a pair of steam-powered carriages. Like airships, the steam-powered carriage was invented by a Frenchman—in this case, Nicolas Joseph Cugnot in 1769. His original design was a three-wheeled tractor with a man-sized boiler in front. It was so cumbersome that it could only go a little over two miles an hour.

However, twenty years had been enough to advance the steam-powered carriage a great deal. Now it travelled on four wheels with a chassis built over them, and it could go up to thirty miles an hour on smooth terrain. Some of them, like the models here accompanying the invading force, had even been fitted with steam cannons on top for military use.

A group of soldiers frantically began prepping the cannons to fire. They had to manually aim them at the black airship and feed the boiler in the rear of the carriage in order to build up the pressure needed to fire the cannons.

While the men were preparing the cannons, the metal spikes along the black airship’s hull began to glow and crackle with a strange blue energy. Jean-Paul could hear the zipping of the incandescent energy as it built up along the spikes. Somehow, he knew they wouldn’t have time to get off a shot with the steam cannons.

“Fall back!” he yelled.

Dumouriez, angry, said, “I’m in command here! Nobody retreats until—”

His words were cut off as the black airship released its built-up energy at the steam carriages, tendrils of strange blue incandescence enveloping the metal conveyances. Their boilers exploded and metal debris went flying in all directions, skewering and otherwise maiming anyone nearby unlucky enough to be in the way. Other soldiers were knocked off their feet and horribly burned by the strange power that now assailed them.

The remaining men panicked and ran back into the forest. Jean-Paul ran over to Dumouriez, who stood dumbstruck in front of him. “General, we have to get out of here!”

Dumouriez simply stood there gaping at the horror of the black airship. Seeing no other choice, Jean-Paul belted him in the stomach. Dumouriez groaned. “The insolence! What did you do that for?”

“We—have—to—go!”

Getting back to his senses, the General began running back into the forest. Jean-Paul took one last look at the black airship. It was building up energy for another attack. He ran as fast as he could back into the forest. He almost made it when an explosion behind him sent him flying forwards. Damn General; he just had to mention an ambush. Knocking on wood and all that.

His world went dark even before he hit the ground.

3

 

 

 

 

The Tuileries, September 14, 1789 (Infini Calendar), 3:05 p.m.

Jeanne entered the war room, wearing her armor and accompanied by her Ordre de la Tradition subordinates Pierre and Victor. True to its name, the war room had a very spartan atmosphere; the walls were covered with maps and other intelligence documents and battle plans, and there were very few comforts to speak of within the room.

Already seated at the table was Louis XVI, his wife Marie Antoinette, and the three representatives from the Assembly, Maximilien Robespierre, Jacques-Pierre Brissot de Warville and Manon Roland.

The daughter of an engraver, Roland was a thirty-five-year-old member of the Girondist faction with Brissot, and an admirer of philosophers like Voltaire. She had a rather immodest opinion of her own beauty, and was known to brag about her silky brown hair, long slender fingers, white teeth and glowing complexion. On this day she wore a lime-green dress and white bonnet on her head.

The knights bowed to the king and queen, and, upon receiving permission, sat down opposite them. Normally, not even knights were allowed to sit with the monarchy as equals. However, the king and queen had been longtime supporters of the Ordre, and the knights’ role in saving them from the Count of Saint-Germaine had greatly increased the trust that already existed.

“I appreciate you knights coming today,” Louis XVI said. “You’re probably wondering what this is all about.”

“I assume it has something to do with our recent incursion into Austria, Your Majesty,” Jeanne said.

Robespierre’s manner was less diplomatic. “Invasion is more like it.”

“It was necessary,” Brissot retorted. “This war will unify France against the rest of Europe.”

“All it’s doing is unifying the rest of Europe against us,” Marie Antoinette said.

Manon Roland gave the queen a venomous glance. For years Roland had been a vocal opponent of Antoinette’s policies, many of which had been implemented by the king. However, rather than taking this opportunity to once again attack the queen, Roland simply said, “This arguing is not productive. We should focus on the topic at hand.”

Pierre said, “Which is…?”

The king explained. “Recently an army regiment under General Dumouriez attempted to gain a foothold in Austria by capturing a fort near Neerwinden in the Austrian Netherlands. Unfortunately, they were soundly defeated.”

To Jeanne, that was indeed unfortunate, though not surprising. “If I may speak freely, Your Majesty…”

“Go ahead, Jeanne. I value your opinion very highly.”

Jeanne took a deep breath to prepare herself for what she had to say. “With all due respect, it is my understanding that the soldiers weren’t given enough time to prepare for the campaign. They were quickly assembled and marched into the Netherlands without proper reconnaissance being done beforehand.”

Robespierre said, “I don’t think any amount of reconnaissance could have prepared them.”

“Why do you say that?” Victor asked.

“Because it wasn’t simply another military regiment that routed them. It was an airship.”

Jeanne was astonished. “But only France has airships. And even now, we only have one working vessel.”

“It would seem that is no longer the case,” Roland said. There were a number of survivors—including General Dumouriez—and they all tell the same story, that they were attacked by a black airship which hurled strange blue lightning at them.”

“A black airship?” Victor said. “Blue lightning? What in the world…?”

Jeanne interjected. “France doesn’t have technology like that. If this story is true, it means some other country has begun developing airships, possibly with a unique power source.”

Pierre shook his head. “I don’t see how it can be done. Creating just two airships plunged our country into debt. It should logically do the same to anyone else who tries it. The resources required is simply too much.”

“Not necessarily,” Robespierre said. “While it is true that one country alone cannot effectively handle the cost of building an airship, a number of countries working to together could conceivably do it, in less time and without draining any one nation’s budget to crippling levels.”

Jeanne stroked her chin with her hand, something she did while deep in thought. “So, Leopold II and his alliance of European countries work together to build their own airship, with each country taking on their share of the burden. If they have been successful…”

Pierre picked up on where she was going with this. “They could build their own fleet of airships and gain complete control of the skies within a decade. Mon Diu!”

“We have to stop them,” Brissot said. “We need to find out where they are building their airships and destroy the place. Blow the whole area to bits.”

Robespierre gave Brissot a cold smile. “The wisdom of the Girondists: Every problem can be solved with a bang.”

“At least I’m not a weakling like you!”

Marie Antoinette said, “Wouldn’t it be more prudent to destroy the enemy airship that already exists, then go after the source?”

“For once I agree with Her Majesty,” Roland said. “It would be much easier to find where they are building their fleet if we don’t have to worry about the black airship which could attack us at any time.”

“First we need to find it,” Pierre said.

“We may have a chance very soon,” Roland said. “The Austrians captured Dumouriez’s second-in-command, and they’ve contacted us about a prisoner exchange.”

“Which regiments was Dumouriez commanding?” Jeanne asked.

Brissot said, “The Fifth though Tenth Infantry Units, and the Twenty-Third Artillery Unit.”

Jeanne let out a barely audible gasp. “My brother Jean-Paul is the commander of the Fifth Infantry Unit.”

The king sighed. “I am sorry to tell you this, Jeanne, but he is the prisoner.”

She fought to control the lump in her throat. “I…I understand. Please tell me we are going to rescue him.”

“That is our intention,” Roland said. “As I stated, the Austrians want to exchange prisoners. You can probably guess who they want to trade your brother for.”

Jeanne looked at the queen. “Her Majesty.”

Marie Antoinette held her head up high and said, “I will gladly go with them if it means the safe return of a great patriot such as Jean-Paul de Fleur.”

However, Roland gave her another icy glare. “You will stay here. You are too important to hand over for a mere colonel.”

Brissot agreed. “As if we would allow you to go free after the trouble you’ve gotten this country into.”

Jeanne said, “Now wait just a moment! You can’t—” She wanted to say, You can’t treat your queen this way. She wanted to say, Her Majesty loves this country just as much as any of you. She wanted to say, Have some decency and stop treating her like a common criminal.

But the king gave Jeanne a look that said it was useless to fight the Assembly on this. They were in charge now, and nothing she said could change that.

Louis XVI had been chosen by God but rejected by man.

 

***

 

Jean-Paul had no idea where he was or how long he had been unconscious. Wherever he was, it was pitch-black and cold. As his senses returned to him he remembered the attempted attack on the fort. The black airship had ambushed the French forces and thoroughly routed them. Was he now imprisoned within the fort? Or did he die and this was simply the dullest afterlife anyone could have imagined? Either way, he wished his brutal headache would go away already.

He tried to move and realized he was tied to a chair with his hands bound behind his back. So, not the afterlife, then. Someone was keeping him here, probably as a prisoner of war. What was it the English said? Oh, right.