Neal Stephenson is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the novels Termination Shock, Fall; or, Dodge in Hell, The Rise and Fall of D.O.D.O. (with Nicole Galland), Seveneves, Reamde, Anathem, The System of the World, The Confusion, Quicksilver, Cryptonomicon, The Diamond Age, Snow Crash, Zodiac, and the groundbreaking nonfiction work In the Beginning . . .Was the Command Line. He lives in Seattle, Washington.

The System of the World

HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Book 6
Solomon's Gold

Dartmoor

15 january 1714

In life there is nothing more foolish than inventing.
-- James Watt

"Men half your age and double your weight have been slain onthese wastes by Extremity of Cold," said the Earl of Lostwithiel, LordWarden of the Stannaries, and Rider of the Forest and Chase of Dartmoor,to one of his two fellow-travelers.

The wind had paused, as though Boreas had exhausted his lungsand was drawing in a new breath of air from somewhere above Iceland.So the young Earl was able to say this in matter-of-fact tones."Mr. Newcomen and I are very glad of your company, but -- "

The wind struck them all deaf, as though the three men werecandle-flames to be blown out. They staggered, planted their downwindfeet against the black, stony ground, and leaned into it. Lostwithielshouted: "We'll not think you discourteous if you return to mycoach!" He nodded to a black carriage stopped along the track ashort distance away, rocking on its French suspension. It had beenartfully made to appear lighter than it was, and looked as if the onlything preventing it from tumbling end-over-end across the moor wasthe motley team of draught-horses harnessed to it, shaggy manesstanding out horizontally in the gale.

"I am astonished that you should call this an extremity of cold,"answered the old man. "In Boston, as you know, this would pass withoutremark. I am garbed for Boston." He was shrouded in a rusticleather cape, which he parted in the front to reveal a lining piecedtogether from the pelts of many raccoons. "After that passagethrough the intestinal windings of the Gorge of Lyd, we are all inwant of fresh air -- especially, if I read the signs rightly, Mr. Newcomen."

That was all the leave Thomas Newcomen wanted. His face, whichwas as pale as the moon, bobbed once, which was as close as this Darth mouth blacksmith would ever come to a formal bow. Having thustaken his leave, he turned his broad back upon them and trudgedquickly downwind. Soon he became hard to distinguish from the numerousupright boulders -- which might be read as a comment on hisphysique, or on the gloominess of the day, or on the badness ofDaniel's eyesight.

"The Druids loved to set great stones on end," commented theEarl. "For what purpose, I cannot imagine."

"You have answered the question by asking it."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Dwelling as they did in this God-forsaken place, they did it sothat men would come upon these standing stones two thousand yearsafter they were dead, and know they had been here. The Duke ofMarlborough, throwing up that famous Pile of Blenheim Palace, isno different."

The Earl of Lostwithiel felt it wise to let this pass without comment.He turned and kicked a path through some stiff withered grassto a strange up-cropping of lichen-covered stone. Following him,Daniel understood it as one corner of a ruined building. The groundyielded under their feet. It was spread thin over a shambles of tumbledownrafters and disintegrating peat-turves. Anyway the anglegave them shelter from the wind.

"Speaking now in my capacity as Lord Warden of the Stannaries, Iwelcome you to Dartmoor, Daniel Waterhouse, on behalf of the Lordof the Manor."

Daniel sighed. "If I'd been in London the last twenty years, keepingup with my Heraldic Arcana, and going to tea with the BluemantlePursuivant, I would know who the hell that was. But as mattersstand -- "

"Dartmoor was created part of the Duchy of Cornwall in 1338,and as such became part of the possessions of the Prince of Wales -- atitle created by King Edward I in -- "

"So in a roundabout way, you are welcoming me on behalf of thePrince of Wales," Daniel said abruptly, in a bid to yank the Earl backbefore he rambled any deeper into the labyrinth of feudal hierarchy.

"And the Princess. Who, if the Hanovers come, shall be -- "

"Princess Caroline of Ansbach. Yes. Her name keeps coming up.Did she send you to track me down in the streets of Plymouth?"

The Earl looked a little wounded. "I am the son of your oldfriend. I encountered you by luck. My surprise was genuine. The welcomegiven you by my wife and children was unaffected. If you doubtit, come to our house next Christmas."

"Then why do you go out of your way to bring up the Princess?"

"Only because I wish to be plain-spoken. Where you are going nextit is all intrigue. There is a sickness of the mind that comes over thosewho bide too long in London, which causes otherwise rational men toput forced and absurd meanings on events that are accidental."

"I have observed that sickness in full flower," Daniel allowed,thinking of one man in particular.

"I do not wish you to think, six months from now, when you becomeaware of all this, 'Aha, the Earl of Lostwithiel was nothing morethan a cat's paw for Caroline -- who knows what other lies he mayhave told me!' "

"Very well. For you to disclose it now exhibits wisdom beyond youryears."

"Some would call it timidity originating in the disasters that befell my father, and his father."

"I do not take that view of it," Daniel said curtly.

He was startled by bulk and motion to one side, and feared it wasa standing-stone toppled by the wind; but it was only Thomas Newcomen,looking a good deal pinker. "God willing, that carriage-ride isthe closest I shall ever come to a sea-voyage!" he declared.

"May the Lord so bless you," Daniel returned. "In the storms ofthe month past, we were pitched and tossed about so much that allhands were too sick to eat for days. I went from praying we would notrun aground, to praying that we would."