"We've no choice," Daniel understood.

"We've no choice. The Pope has all the gold, all the silver, all the men, and the rich lands where the sun shines. We cannot long stand against Spain, France, the Empire, the Church. Not as long as power is like a scale, with our riches on one pan, and our adversaries' on the other. What are we to do, then? Daniel, you know that I think Alchemy is nonsense! Yet there is something in the idea idea of Alchemy; the conceit that we may cause gold to appear where 'twas not, by dint of artfulness and machinations up here." He pressed the tip of one index finger delicately to his forehead. "We have no mines, no El Dorado. If we want gold and silver we must look not to treasure-fleets from America. Yet if we conduct commerce here, and build the Bank of England, why, gold and silver will appear in our coffers as if by magic-or Alchemy if you prefer." of Alchemy; the conceit that we may cause gold to appear where 'twas not, by dint of artfulness and machinations up here." He pressed the tip of one index finger delicately to his forehead. "We have no mines, no El Dorado. If we want gold and silver we must look not to treasure-fleets from America. Yet if we conduct commerce here, and build the Bank of England, why, gold and silver will appear in our coffers as if by magic-or Alchemy if you prefer."

A pause to sip cold coffee. Then Daniel remarked, "You'll want to take a page from Gresham's book. 'Bad money drives out good.' If the new coin is good, 'twill drive away the bad, not only from this island but everywhere. Everyone will desire English guineas, as they desire Pieces of Eight now. The demand will cause ever more gold and silver to wash up on our sh.o.r.es to be coined in the Tower, just as you prophesy."

Roger was nodding patiently, as if he and the Juncto had figured it all out long ago-which might or might not have been the case-but Daniel found it strangely rea.s.suring all the same, and continued: "At the risk of sounding like a Royal Society partisan-"

"It is not much of a risk. Half of the Juncto are Fellows. And all are partisans of something. something."

"Very well, then, I submit that you want a Natural Philosopher running the Mint-not the usual corrupt, drunken, time-serving political hack."

This drew a brisk turn of the head from a gentleman who had been standing a short distance behind Roger, talking to another gent, or pretending to. Daniel realized he had spoken too loudly.

The gentleman was glaring at Daniel from beneath a copper-colored wig, one of the new model, narrow, with long ringlets trailing far down the back. The wig said that he had money and rank, yet was no admirer of the French. He would be High Church, Old Money, a reflexive backer of Monarchy-a Tory, as they were called nowadays. Odd that he should be pa.s.sing the time of day in here-Mrs. Bligh's was a Whig haunt. For that reason Daniel rated it as unlikely that this fellow would challenge him to a duel.

Roger had noticed Daniel noticing all of these things, and had the good instincts not to look back. But his eyes flicked slightly upwards to a windowpane just above Daniel's head, and he scanned the reflections interestedly for a moment. Which in no way prevented his talking at the same time. "Indeed, Daniel, any man plucked from this coffee-house-with one or two exceptions-would be preferable to the fellows running our mint now, who are tapeworms. tapeworms."

Daniel was staring fixedly into Roger's eyes, but in the background he could see the Tory turning away. The Tory planted himself with his back toward Roger, set his coffee-cup down on a sideboard, rested a hand idly on the hilt of his small-sword, and seemed to survey the crowd of merry Whigs filling the house.

"It follows that any Fellow of the Royal Society would be excellent-but merely excellent is not quite good enough, Daniel. Normally it takes me hours hours to explain why this is true. You, thank G.o.d, have perceived it instantly. The fate of Britain and of Christendom hinge upon the power of the new good Pound Sterling to drive out the bad-to sweep all opposition from the field and bring gold and silver to our sh.o.r.es from every corner of the earth. The quality of money is only partly due to the purity of its metal-which any Natural Philosopher could see to. It is also a matter of to explain why this is true. You, thank G.o.d, have perceived it instantly. The fate of Britain and of Christendom hinge upon the power of the new good Pound Sterling to drive out the bad-to sweep all opposition from the field and bring gold and silver to our sh.o.r.es from every corner of the earth. The quality of money is only partly due to the purity of its metal-which any Natural Philosopher could see to. It is also a matter of trust, trust, of prestige." of prestige."

Daniel had now realized what was coming, and slid down in his chair, and put his hands over his face. "You don't want me me to enlist him, Roger! I no longer have his ear. You want Fatio, Fatio, Fatio!" to enlist him, Roger! I no longer have his ear. You want Fatio, Fatio, Fatio!"

"Everyone knows he is in-Fatio-ated-but pa.s.sions are fleeting. You have known him longer than anyone, Daniel. You are the man for it. England needs you! Your Ma.s.sachusetts sinecure awaits!"

Daniel had parted his fingers now and was peering out through slits in between. Unable to look Roger in the face, he was surveying the distant background. Andrew Ellis-a compact young man with a blond ponytail, an enjoyable, harmless young Parliamentarian-was coming over with a gla.s.s of claret in each hand, intent on breaking into the conversation and sharing his enjoyableness with Roger. If Daniel had hopes of weaseling out, he had to do it now. To Roger Comstock, silence implied not merely consent, but a blood oath.

"You cannot know what you are proposing, ensconcing such a man at the Tower, giving him control of our money. He has strange ideas, dark secrets-"

"I know all about the beastliness."

"No, that's not what I mean."

"Alchemy is an even more common vice."

"That's not it, either. He is a heretic, Roger."

"Look who's talking!"

"I mean, he does not even believe in the Trinity!"

Roger got a glazed-over look, as he always did when abstract theological matters were dragged into the conversation. Unlike ordinary men, who required several minutes to become fully glazed over, Roger could do it in an instant, as if a window-sash had dropped in front of him from a great height. Daniel parted his fingers more to observe this phenomenon. But instead his attention was drawn to something even odder: an expensive copper-colored wig hanging in midair behind Roger's chair. Its owner had ducked and darted out from under it as fast as a striking cobra and simply left it behind. It fell to the floor, of course. By that time the owner-who had red hair in a close Caesar crop-was whispering something into Andrew Ellis's ear. It must have been something extremely shocking, to judge from the look of astonishment-nay, horror-that had come over the normally beaming face of Mr. Ellis.

Daniel pushed himself up in his chair to get a better look and perceived that the red-headed gent was now drawing away from Ellis-but Ellis was moving with him, as if they were joined together. Ellis gave out a little whimper.

Daniel could not credit what he was seeing. "Roger, I could almost swear that Mr. Ellis is having his ear bitten."

Roger now took notice for the first time. He stood up, turned around, and quickly verified it. This prolonged ear-biting had drawn very little notice thus far because Ellis had been too astonished to speak and the biter, of course, could not really talk, either-though he did seem to be mumbling something in a low, grinding voice: "So you want to have the ear of Roger Comstock? Then I I shall have shall have yours. yours."

Oddly, it was Roger's standing up that drew everyone's attention. Then awareness splashed across the room.

"In the name of G.o.d, sir!" Ellis cried, and slumped against the paneled wall. The red-head stayed with him, of course, maintaining his bite like a bulldog, working his jaw slowly to gnaw through the cartilage. He planted a hand on the wall to either side of Ellis's head, bracketing him in position. Several of the Whigs in the main room finally moved forward to intervene-but the gentleman who had been talking to the biter earlier whirled to face them, and drew his sword half out of his scabbard. That drove them back like a firecracker.

Roger stepped toward the biter and the bitee, and raised his arm that was nearer the wall, causing his cape to spread open and block Daniel's view of the whole proceedings. He seemed to slap the back of the biter's hand where it was planted on the wall. "Mr. White," he said, in an indulgent tone, "do wipe your chin when you are quite finished." Then Roger skirted around the pair and walked out of the coffee-house. Andrew Ellis collapsed to the floor with a scream and pressed both of his hands to the side of his head. Mr. White came up with a triumphant toss of his head, like a country boy who has just won at apple-bobbing. Something like a dried apricot was lodged in his smile. He plucked it out with one hand to admire it. Andrew Ellis was lying against Mr. White's shins and knees, forcing them back, and so White had to keep his other hand braced against the paneling lest he topple forward. Anyway, he pocketed Ellis's ear and flashed a b.l.o.o.d.y grin at Daniel.

"Welcome to politics, Mr. Waterhouse," he announced. "This is the world you have made. Rejoice and be glad in it-for you shall not be allowed to leave."

"I am freer to leave than you you are, Mr. White," Daniel said on his way out, nodding in the direction of the hand that Mr. White was bracing against the wall. are, Mr. White," Daniel said on his way out, nodding in the direction of the hand that Mr. White was bracing against the wall.

Mr. White now seemed to notice for the first time that a dagger had been shoved all the way through that hand, between the metacarpals and out through the palm, and lodged deep in the wooden wall. Worked into the dagger's pommel, in silver letters, as a sort of calling-card, were the initials R.C. R.C.

WHEN D DANIEL MADE IT out to the street he discovered that his hand had gone into his pocket and got ahold of the Pearl of Great Price and squeezed it so hard, for so long, that his fingers had got tired. The Stone had a sort of devil's-head shape, with two stubby hornlets that had once been lodged in his ureters. He had a habit of gripping it so that those wee k.n.o.bs stuck out between his knuckles-it fitted his hand almost as well as his bladder. out to the street he discovered that his hand had gone into his pocket and got ahold of the Pearl of Great Price and squeezed it so hard, for so long, that his fingers had got tired. The Stone had a sort of devil's-head shape, with two stubby hornlets that had once been lodged in his ureters. He had a habit of gripping it so that those wee k.n.o.bs stuck out between his knuckles-it fitted his hand almost as well as his bladder.

Riding north across Hertfordshire in a borrowed carriage the next day, he found his hand had gone to it once again, as he reviewed the ear-biting scene in the theatre of his memory. Daniel was meditating on Cowardice. He knew a lot of cowards and saw cowardice everywhere, but just as Mr. Flamsteed's observations of the stars were frequently obnubilated by weather, so Daniel's of Cowardice by Extenuating Circ.u.mstances. Viz. a man might explain cowardliness by saying that he had a family to support, or, failing that, with the simple argument that it just was not fair for a young man to give up life or limb. But Daniel had no wife or children of his own, and brother Sterling was doing a fine job of supporting the extended family. And not only was Daniel old (forty-seven), but he ought to've been dead by now, and owed his remaining years solely to Mr. Hooke's pitiless blade-work. So in Daniel Waterhouse, an observer could see cowardliness in its pure form, and perhaps learn something of its nature.

A note from Roger Comstock was on the bench next to Daniel; it had been waiting for him in the carriage this morning. Dear Daniel, Dear Daniel, it read, it read, Forgive me my precipitous leave-taking from Mrs. Bligh's yester-eve. As I am sure you have perceived by now, the whole event was a masque, a trifle. Do not allow Mr. White's vulgarities to prey upon your good judgment.Your coachman is Mr. John Hammond and I have charged him to convey you anywhere you desire, until your errand is accomplished; but I have led him to believe that most of your perambulations shall be confined to the triangle formed by London, Cambridge, and Mr. Apthorp's country house. If you conceive a need to hie to John O'Groats or Land's End, do break the news to him gently.Yours very sternly,(signed with a flourish, two inches high)Ravenscar P.S. I seem to have lost my poniard-have you seen it? P.S. I seem to have lost my poniard-have you seen it?

Roger was completely free of any taint of cowardice. Craven he might be, but a coward? Never. A trifle A trifle. Roger was sincere when he called it that.

It was impossible for Daniel to read in the dim, rocking vehicle, and he had no one to talk to, so sleeping and thinking were the only ways to pa.s.s the long drive through the rain up to Cambridge. As he contrasted his fear of Mr. White (which was very much akin to the fear he had previously had of Jeffreys) with how he had once felt about this rock that was now in his pocket, a new hypothesis of cowardice came into his head. The Stone had made him sad, reluctant to die, and anxious-but his fear of it had been as nothing compared to his fear of Jeffreys, and now of White. Yet those men had only spoken threatening words to him. Even when Hooke had reached up between his thighs with the scalpel, Daniel had been gripped by a sort of animal fear, but nothing like the dread of Mr. White, which had kept him awake all last night.

The only difference he could think of was that Hooke liked liked Daniel and White Daniel and White hated hated him. Could it be, then, that Daniel's true cowardice lay in that he could not stand for people to think poorly of him? him. Could it be, then, that Daniel's true cowardice lay in that he could not stand for people to think poorly of him?

That would be a strange shape for cowardice to take. But it tallied well with Daniel's experiences to date. It was Daniel's biography in a sentence. Further, perhaps it was the case that there were certain men, such as Jeffreys and White, who were adept at detecting this particular type of fear, and who had learned to cultivate it and use it against their enemies. Mr. John Hammond, the driver, had a long coachman's whip and used it frequently, but never actually struck the horses with it. Rather, he made it crack in the air around the heads of his team, and used their own fear to drive them.

When Daniel had sent Jeffreys to the Tower and to his scaffold-top meeting with Jack Ketch, he'd phant'sied that he had slain a dragon, and put an end to that part of his life. Yet now Mr. White had appeared out of nowhere. An alarming chap! But much more alarming was what this all implied, namely that the world had more than one dragon-that it was infested with them-and that a fellow who was afraid of dragons must perforce spend all his days worrying about one or another.

This was all very much of the essence, because when Daniel tracked Isaac down, wherever he was, he would not be able to do what needed to be done without first mastering this fear.

AS IT TURNED OUT, he had no occasion to master it in Cambridge. He arrived at Trinity College in time to have a wash and a cat-nap in one of the guest chambers. Then, when the bell rang, he threw on a robe and went to the dining hall and took a place at the high table. Rather close to the head of that table, as it turned out. For between apoplexy and smallpox, Daniel was becoming more senior with every pa.s.sing month. He was shown respect and even affection. He understood now why men afflicted with his particular brand of cowardice would gravitate to stations like this one, even though the College had fallen on very hard times, and was dishing up thin gruel little different from what was served in the poor-house. he had no occasion to master it in Cambridge. He arrived at Trinity College in time to have a wash and a cat-nap in one of the guest chambers. Then, when the bell rang, he threw on a robe and went to the dining hall and took a place at the high table. Rather close to the head of that table, as it turned out. For between apoplexy and smallpox, Daniel was becoming more senior with every pa.s.sing month. He was shown respect and even affection. He understood now why men afflicted with his particular brand of cowardice would gravitate to stations like this one, even though the College had fallen on very hard times, and was dishing up thin gruel little different from what was served in the poor-house.

When he inquired after Newton and Fatio, heads turned toward a young man seated near the foot of the table-too far away for Daniel to converse with him-who was called Dominic Masham. This suggested much to Daniel, for he knew that the family Masham were close friends and patrons of John Locke. Locke had been living on their estate at Oates since he'd come back from exile in Holland round the time of the Glorious Revolution. Daniel presumed that Locke had established some sort of alchemical laboratory there, for Newton and Fatio had frequently gone there for lengthy stays, as had Robert Boyle until his death a year or two ago. The Mashams had many children and Daniel guessed that this Dominic was one of them, and that he was here as a protege of Newton.

It was explained to him that Newton, Fatio, and Locke had all been staying in Newton's (and formerly Waterhouse's) chambers here until yesterday morning, when they'd all gone away, leaving Masham behind to tie up some loose ends. Newton and Fatio had gone off together bound for Oates. Locke had gone off by himself down the Barton Road, which led generally southeastwards. But he had declined to state his destination.

"I went right by them," Daniel remarked. For the Mashams' estate lay just off the London-Cambridge road, some twenty miles north of the capital. "What were those fellows up to?" For they also collaborated on theological projects.

It made the men at High Table nervous that Daniel had even asked.

"That is to say, what sorts of stimulating conversations have I missed by being so long absent from this table? Surely, three such men did not sit here in silence."

Everyone sat in silence for a few moments. But then, fortuitously, dinner was over. They all stood up and chanted in Latin, and filed out. Daniel tracked Dominic Masham across the Great Court, and caught up with him beyond the main gate as he was unlocking the portal to Newton's private courtyard. Masham had a distracted and hurried look about him, which suited Daniel's purposes well enough. Daniel had a lanthorn, which he used to illuminate Masham's face. sat in silence for a few moments. But then, fortuitously, dinner was over. They all stood up and chanted in Latin, and filed out. Daniel tracked Dominic Masham across the Great Court, and caught up with him beyond the main gate as he was unlocking the portal to Newton's private courtyard. Masham had a distracted and hurried look about him, which suited Daniel's purposes well enough. Daniel had a lanthorn, which he used to illuminate Masham's face.

"Going home soon, Mr. Masham?"

"Tomorrow, Dr. Waterhouse, or as soon as I can gather up certain..."

Daniel let Masham's pause dangle embarra.s.singly for a while before saying, quietly, "You offend me with this affected coyness. I am not a la.s.s la.s.s to to flirt flirt with, Mr. Masham." with, Mr. Masham."

This had the same effect on the younger man as a whip-crack by a horse's ear. He froze and began trying to frame a suitably glorious apology, but Daniel cut him off. "You are charged with gathering together the necessaries for the continuation of the Great Work that Misters Newton, Locke, and Fatio are undertaking at Oates. These may be books books or or chemicals chemicals or or gla.s.sware gla.s.sware-it does not matter to me-what matters is that you are going to Oates in the morning, and you may convey this packet to Mr. Newton with my compliments. It came to me the other day in London. It was sent to Newton by Leibniz."

The mention of the name Leibniz Leibniz threw a look into Dominic Masham's wide green eyes. threw a look into Dominic Masham's wide green eyes.

"It consists of a letter, and a book. The letter is unique, and more important. The book, as you can see, is the first printing of Leibniz's Protogaea, Protogaea, and you may feel free to peruse it during your trip; it will teach you things you have never dreamed of." and you may feel free to peruse it during your trip; it will teach you things you have never dreamed of."

"And the letter-?"

"Think of it as an overture, an attempt to mend the breach that occurred in these chambers in 1677."

"Sir! You know what happened in 1677!?" Masham exclaimed, in a tone of voice that was somewhat wistful, which seemed to say that he You know what happened in 1677!?" Masham exclaimed, in a tone of voice that was somewhat wistful, which seemed to say that he didn't didn't.

"I was here here then." then."

"Very well, Dr. Waterhouse, I shall not let it out of my sight until it is in Mr. Newton's hands."

"The future of Natural Philosophy revolves around it," Daniel said. "Please tell those three gentlemen that I shall call on them in two days."

"By your leave, sir, there are only the two two of them there now. Mr. Locke has gone to...another place." of them there now. Mr. Locke has gone to...another place."

"Again you do me a disservice. I know perfectly well that Mr. Locke has gone to Apthorp House."

"Sir!"

SIR R RICHARD A APTHORP'S COUNTRY dwelling was situated about midway between Cambridge and Oxford, not far off the high road that ran from London northwest in the direction of Birmingham. The nearest town of any size was called Bletchley, and Daniel had to stop to ask for directions there, because Sir Richard had in no way made his house an obvious one. This bland countryside seemed oddly well suited for the hiding of secrets in plain sight. In any case, Daniel did not have to utter a word, only slide his window open and watch three Bletchley stable-boys jumping up and down in the street vying with one another to tell him the way to Apthorp House. Meanwhile an older fellow struck up a cheerful exchange with John Hammond. He let Daniel's driver know that the stables at Apthorp House had long since gone full up, and that Sir Richard, as a courtesy to his guests, had retained this man to look after the overflow at his livery stable, which was just round the corner. dwelling was situated about midway between Cambridge and Oxford, not far off the high road that ran from London northwest in the direction of Birmingham. The nearest town of any size was called Bletchley, and Daniel had to stop to ask for directions there, because Sir Richard had in no way made his house an obvious one. This bland countryside seemed oddly well suited for the hiding of secrets in plain sight. In any case, Daniel did not have to utter a word, only slide his window open and watch three Bletchley stable-boys jumping up and down in the street vying with one another to tell him the way to Apthorp House. Meanwhile an older fellow struck up a cheerful exchange with John Hammond. He let Daniel's driver know that the stables at Apthorp House had long since gone full up, and that Sir Richard, as a courtesy to his guests, had retained this man to look after the overflow at his livery stable, which was just round the corner.

Indeed, the lane that meandered between low hills to Apthorp House was nearly paved with horse manure, and when Hammond drew his team up in front of the main building-yet another Barock neo-cla.s.sical compound fraught with pagan-G.o.d-statues-Daniel's eyes were treated to the sight of the finest fleet of carriages he had ever seen, outside of a royal palace. The coats of arms told him who was inside the house. The Earl of Marlborough, Sterling Waterhouse, Roger Comstock, Apthorp, Pepys, Locke, and Christopher Wren were all personal acquaintances of Daniel's. Also well represented was a category Daniel thought of as "men like Sterling," meaning sons or grandsons of the great Puritan trader/smuggler/firebrands of the Cromwell era, including particularly several Quaker magnates with large holdings in America. There were men with French surnames and others with Spanish: respectively, Huguenots and Amsterdam-Jews who had established themselves in England during the last ten or so years. There were a few n.o.bles of high rank, notably the Prince of Denmark, who was married to Princess Anne. However, Persons of Quality were quite under-represented here, considering the amount of wealth. The n.o.bles who had shown up were what Daniel thought of as "men like Boyle," meaning sons of great lords who were not especially interested in being great according to the ancient feudal definition of that word, and who instead devoted their lives to hanging around the Royal Society or sailing across oceans to trade or to explore.

"This is the world you have made," Mr. White had said to Daniel-blaming him somehow for the Glorious Revolution. But Daniel saw it rather differently. This was the world Drake Drake had made, a world where power came of thrift and cleverness and industry, not of birthright, and certainly not of Divine Right. This was the Whig World, and though Drake would have abhorred everything about most of these people, he would have had to admit that he had in a way caused this Juncto. had made, a world where power came of thrift and cleverness and industry, not of birthright, and certainly not of Divine Right. This was the Whig World, and though Drake would have abhorred everything about most of these people, he would have had to admit that he had in a way caused this Juncto.

None of these people really had time to talk to Daniel and so his conversations had a meted-out feeling to them. For all that, they were pleased to see him, and interested in what he had to say, which was soothing for a man equipped with Daniel's particular form of cowardice.

"My Lord Marlborough, if I may just pursue you down this gallery-"

"I am pleased to see you are in a condition to do so."

"Thank you, my lord. On the night that James II fled, you spoke to me on the Tower causeway and voiced grave concern as to the motives and machinations of Alchemists. Alchemists."

"You do not need to remind me, Mr. Waterhouse, I am not the sort who ever forgets."

"Pray, where stand you now on such matters?"

"I must admit they seem very quaint and queer to me today, where once they seemed occult and menacing. Yet the Marquis of Ravenscar is very forward in saying that one of the Esoteric Brotherhood ought to be put in charge of our Mint. And I do confess I am loath to throw my money in with this new Bank, and my lot in with this Juncto, when our money is to be recoined by a savant whose ideas are recondite, and whose motives are a source of endless puzzlement to me."

"That will never change, my lord. But if some way could be devised for the motives of this alchemist to be aligned aligned with yours, so that you agreed on the with yours, so that you agreed on the means means whilst perhaps differing as to the whilst perhaps differing as to the ends, ends, would that satisfy you?" would that satisfy you?"

"Such alignments of interest are a staple of politics and of war. They may serve for a time. But in the end is always a divergence, and a catastrophe."

"That is a Ja.n.u.s-like utterance, my lord, and for now I will prefer to look only upon its smiling face."

"MY LORD R RAVENSCAR, tomorrow morning I am off to Oates to tender a version of your proposal to Mr. Newton, unless you say to me beforehand that you have changed your mind." tomorrow morning I am off to Oates to tender a version of your proposal to Mr. Newton, unless you say to me beforehand that you have changed your mind."

"Why on earth should I change my mind?"

"Perhaps you would prefer a Mint-master who, insofar as his motives were more intelligible, would prove more manageable."

"I am sure I have no idea what you mean, Daniel."

"I am sure you lie lie like a like a dog dog in the in the sun. sun. A time-serving hack-a tapeworm-is easy to understand. He will run your mint for you because he receives a stipend, a place to live, influence and prestige. But you must get it very clear in your mind, Roger, that Newton wants none of this. He will benefit from a steady income, it is true. But if I am to interest him in this job, I must hold out enticements. And I say to you that he has the hard, bare soul of a Lincolnshire Puritan, a type of soul I understand well, and the usual incentives are less than nothing to him. If he does it, he shall do it in the name of ideals, and in the pursuit of goals, you may find incomprehensible. And inasmuch as you shall be unable to comprehend his ends, you shall be unable to control, or even influence him." A time-serving hack-a tapeworm-is easy to understand. He will run your mint for you because he receives a stipend, a place to live, influence and prestige. But you must get it very clear in your mind, Roger, that Newton wants none of this. He will benefit from a steady income, it is true. But if I am to interest him in this job, I must hold out enticements. And I say to you that he has the hard, bare soul of a Lincolnshire Puritan, a type of soul I understand well, and the usual incentives are less than nothing to him. If he does it, he shall do it in the name of ideals, and in the pursuit of goals, you may find incomprehensible. And inasmuch as you shall be unable to comprehend his ends, you shall be unable to control, or even influence him."

"That's perfectly all right, Daniel, I can always write you a letter in Boston and ask you to explain what he's on about."

"MAY I I a.s.sIST YOU a.s.sIST YOU carrying one of those carrying one of those tomes, tomes, Mr. Halley?" Mr. Halley?"

"Daniel! An unexpected pleasure! I can manage, thank you, but you may a.s.sist by telling me in which of these rooms I might find Mr. Pepys."

"Follow me. He is meeting with one Cabal or other at the end of the opposite wing."

"Ah, then wait with me while I rest my arms."

"Are these for his book collection?"

"These are money. money."

"On the pages I see numbers. numbers. Rumor has had it, Mr. Halley, that you have hired up every computer on this island, and set them to a great work. Now I see the rumors were true." Rumor has had it, Mr. Halley, that you have hired up every computer on this island, and set them to a great work. Now I see the rumors were true."

"These are only the first fruits of their lucubrations-I have brought them up, at the request of Mr. Pepys, to show them as a sort of demo'."

"Why do you say that they are money? To me they could be sines and cosines."