“Hidden service,” the senior man said. “Happens in a lot of places now. The servants move through an infinite fold, in effect an empty optional world, beside the real one. One more use for the new engines. And neater, you must admit.”
Hamilton didn’t feel the need to agree with such young opinions from his old mentor. He was now wondering if the man’s new smoothness of face was because this was also a younger version. But no, surely not, here was still the experience, the tone of voice he was used to. Turpin had seen that look. “One of the out-of-uniform men found it for me,” he said, as if he was talking about a carriage. “As soon as the great powers recognized that various of the engines that had fallen into our hands gave us access to optional worlds, outside the balance, the Palace felt it was our lot’s duty to start mapping them, to find out where all these open-fold tunnels lead. Our regimental hunting parties have been going all over.”
Hamilton thought he understood now why he hadn’t been included in that effort. “Including another one of you?”
“Several. The original owner of this was only a Newton or so different to the original. Well, in physical terms. Where he came from, a lot of our conflicts didn’t happen, hence the smoothness of face. Our lads put him in the bag, and when they got back, connected his mind to an infinite tunnel. Like using a terrier to root out a fox. Once he was out, I moved in, using the same method. Should keep me going for a bit longer.”
Hamilton had found himself wondering at that statement. His balance had been thrown by the boy, and so he’d allowed himself the seditious thought because it had felt not so dangerous then, that Turpin was seeking not, as he said, an extension of his service but actually tactical advantage at Court. He was now more like those he served were. And never mind the distance that took him from his officers. “What if optional worlds start raiding us in the same way?”
“First thing we thought of. We seem to be unique, at least in all those options nearby. We’re the only ones who’ve encountered the Foreigners. Or they may even only exist in this world. If they do start popping over, we may have to start making treaties with optional Britains rather than raiding them.”
“And extending the balance into them?”
Turpin had raised his hands. Perhaps he felt this was beyond his duty or understanding.
“How can there be younger versions of people? How is there an optional world where … I’m … his age?”
“These worlds form in waves, I’m told.”
“Like the waves that interfere with each other in this world to create the heights and depths of the balance?”
“Presumably.” There had been that impatience with the matter of the balance once more. “Some waves are a bit behind us in time, some a bit forward.”
“And there are some options where there are chatty deer and pillars of birds? Or are those just fashions anticipating such stuff?”
“A little bit of both. There’s a rather large selection box, all told.” Turpin had leaned forward, as if wishing Hamilton would get to the meat of it. And Hamilton had been pleased that it hadn’t been him that had taken them there. “Listen, that younger you, he’s the first of his kind to be brought over. He’s got nobody’s mind but his own. He’s a whole chap, a volunteer from a world so like ours that there wasn’t an iota of difference.”
“Except no Foreigners?”
“Exactly.”
“And no balance?”
“Yes, yes!”
Hamilton had wondered if Turpin was planning on putting his mind in the boy’s skull. But he’d hardly have invited them both to a social occasion first. “If we can do all this now, and I didn’t know we could—”
“I’m telling you now under a seal. You’ll find, if you look, that your covers have already reacted to my tone of voice. You won’t be able to tell anyone any of this.” He looked suddenly chagrined at Hamilton’s startled look. “Not that you would, of course!”
Turpin’s manners seemed to have changed with his new body. That had been shocking too, a shock like one felt sometimes at things one had heard were said and done at Court. “If we can do all this now we’ve got their engines, why can’t the Foreigners open a tunnel at the blockade, pop up in Whitehall and have at us?”
“Good question. The great powers have been pondering that. Together.” Enough had been made public for Hamilton to understand that there was now a significantly greater degree of cooperation between the courts of the great powers of Europe. The arrival of the Foreigners had forced that, when the haphazard capture of the new engines in various parts of the solar system might otherwise have set the balance rocking. There, he suspected, was the hand of the deity in this. If it was anywhere. “The leading theory at the moment is that, for some reason, the Foreigners forbid, among themselves, the use of optional worlds. That it’s a principle of whatever mistaken religion they practice. Optionalism is perhaps just a side effect of what they use as propulsion, but so far we’ve only made sense of the side effect, and none at all of the propulsion.”
“Can we use it to surprise them?”
“Working on just that.”
This was far more the sort of conversation Hamilton had been used to with his commanding officer. He had found himself regretting his earlier reactions, understanding them, regaining control of himself. Tonight, whatever else it was, was surely planned as a test of his character, and so far he had just about stumbled through. What he felt about anything was as beside the point now as it had always been.
Turpin had spent the rest of dinner sounding him out about the myriad aspects of the shared defense strategies being adopted by the “grand alliance” of great powers. There was some new addition to their ranks every day. Savoy, most recently. There were even rumors the Turks were going to join. Hamilton had wanted to ask where the balance was in all this. What was going to happen to it if every nation was on the same side? Was the arrival of the Foreigners and their engines, at the same time, the fatal shock, the final moment when the balance would collapse and resolve into some new social or actual reality, as experts in the matter had often hypothesized? Was that what was happening all around them now? He had always conceived of that moment as being grand, somehow, and not a matter of finding wild animals in the Warden’s rooms. Or was this just some particularly ferocious swinging of the pendulum, which would resolve itself, as it always had, into a gentler motion?
But Turpin, true to his new form, hadn’t mentioned the balance at all, apart from when he’d joined in the grace before the meal. Hamilton had half hoped one of the divines would strike up a debate on the subject. He had known, through the gossip of his maid, Alexandria, that all was not well among the clergy, that the next synod at York was going to be rough on His Majesty and his terrifying commonwealth of nations, but there was no sign of that here. These particular clerics were as content to swim among this stuff as that Herald had been.
All through the conversation, Hamilton had kept his gaze on his superior. He hadn’t wanted to be seen craning his neck to get a look at the younger version of himself. He had continued to affect nonchalance. And hoped he was not projecting affectation. The bell had rung, the students had started to exit, and the Warden had invited his guests back to his rooms for brandy. Turpin had announced that he wanted to talk to someone and gone ahead.
As Hamilton had entered, the younger man had stepped straight to intercept him. Precious was with him. She had had an interested look on her face. Turpin had already got to the other side of the room, thank God, so there had been nobody to attempt some sort of crass introduction. But Hamilton had known his superior officer’s gaze would be upon him now. He still hadn’t known what was expected of him. But if this was a game, he was going to win it.