By J. Gregory Keyes
1722: A moment darkish Age looms. An asteroid has devastated the Earth, referred to as down through dire creatures who plot opposed to the realm of fellows. The brilliant-- a few say mad--Isaac Newton has taken safe haven in historic 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 safeguard is tenuous. Peter the good marches his unstoppable forces throughout Europe. And part an international away, Cotton Mather and Blackbeard the pirate gather a celebration of colonial luminaries to go the Atlantic and become aware of what has befallen the outdated international.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)
It would only anger Mather. “I find little sense in that,” Mather said, a trifle coolly, “but thank you for your opinion. ” Bienville sighed. ” “Agreed,” Blackbeard said. ” “I will,” Mather said quietly. ” “Yes, me. I am the only man of science among you, the only member of the Royal Society. We have here a puzzle, gentlemen, and it is, I believe, a scientific one. ” “Well, the whole council represented on foot then,” Blackbeard noted. ” There was, of course, only one answer to that. The earth beneath the grass was as black as charcoal.
Ben noted that neither Robert nor their benefactor allowed their weapons to waver until the Muscovites were well out of sight. “Now, then,” the newcomer said, finally returning his weapon to its proper place at his belt. Robert’s rapier lingered in the air for a second or two longer, and then hissed back into its scabbard. “I would not believe them, if I were you,” the man advised. “I heard them in the tavern. ” Ben looked the fellow over. He was a year or two one side of forty, with sea-gray eyes peering over a regally arched nose, lips tight with a sort of grim humor.
Her smile was bright and probably false as she returned to selecting clothes for him. A sort of funny feeling rumbled in Ben’s stomach, a slight vertigo, an uncertainty. He thought furiously for something else to say, but his throat remained empty of words until she had laid out the last of his suit. He pulled the breeches on, suddenly feeling foolish. “Thank you,” he finally managed. ” At that she only smiled enigmatically, returning to her work, leaving him feeling as stupid as a child. 5. London “Goddamn,” Blackbeard muttered, tugging at his braided beard, and then more forcefully, "Goddamn.
A Calculus of Angels (The Age of Unreason, Book 2) by J. Gregory Keyes