By J. Gregory Keyes
1722: A moment darkish Age looms. An asteroid has devastated the Earth, known as down by means of dire creatures who plot opposed to the area of fellows. The brilliant-- a few say mad--Isaac Newton has taken shelter in old Prague. There, along with his younger apprentice Ben Franklin, he plumbs the secrets and techniques of the aetheric beings who've so approximately destroyed humanity.But their security is tenuous. Peter the good marches his unstoppable forces throughout Europe. And part a global away, Cotton Mather and Blackbeard the pirate gather a celebration of colonial luminaries to pass the Atlantic and observe what has befallen the previous international. With them sails purple sneakers, a Choctaw shaman whose mysterious connections to the invisible international warn him that they're all relocating towards a disagreement as violent because it is decisive . . .
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Additional resources for A Calculus of Angels (The Age of Unreason, Book 2)
Ben smiled at Frisk, trying to hide his suspicion. He had been taken in before, and by fairer spies than Frisk—Vasilisa Karevna, for instance, from whose lips he had first tasted Russian. Who was to say that this Swede had not authored the entire confrontation, to present himself as an ally? Certainly the Muscovites had given up easily enough. “Well, Mr. Frisk,” Ben said, “again, we are in your debt. If there is some way I can compensate you…” “I must admit,” Frisk said, “that my decision to aid you was not without some selfinterest.
Well then”—Blackbeard scowled—“you’re the overlander. You go find it. ” “By my leave,” Blackbeard grunted, still staring at the shore. ” Bienville shook his head and took another puff from his pipe. “I am loath to send my men there,” he said. ” Blackbeard, red eyed, downed another cup of Portuguese wine, his eighth. ” “Yes, that is precisely what I mean. If this is truly the mouth of the Thames, then the world has gone more mad than ever we thought. It is safer for us to stay in numbers until we have some idea what has befallen here.
Red Shoes had guessed that as well, for here he noticed the land touched by white man’s squareness again, though now reduced to walls a few inches high. Some had lost their regularity, cut into pieces by something that had incised a furrow in the earth that went on for as far as they could see. In other places the ground was dished out, as if poked by a giant’s finger. “Could have been Tilbury. ” “God’s balls, I don’t like this,” Tug said, gaping. ” “Hush your blasphemy,” Mather snapped, eyes suddenly blazing.