Julius immediately liked my idea, which surprised me. He saw in it not just a solution to a logistical problem, but a chance to test our crews. He contacted the Paris cell by pigeon and asked them to rush a message to the chateau announcing our imminent arrival, as we didn't want everyone there to panic when they saw Tripods approaching. This message was also to include the names of the people who would be visiting, which meant Eloise's parents knew to expect their daughter.

Andre gathered Crews 1 and 3 and told them what we were doing. Crew 1 were sad to lose their captain, and Crew 3 were sad to lose two teammates, but they made the best of it. We were all delighted to test our skills on a long trip.

We were sending two Tripods so one could help the other in case anything happened. We were also leaving at noon three days after our meeting with Julius, to give those at the chateau time to prepare.

A single wooden trunk held all our worldly belongings, most of which consisted of maps and small scientific instruments Beanpole was bringing. I noticed Eloise's gown inside it, so she evidently hadn't decided yet what to do with it.

Eloise asked Marie if she wanted to return to the chateau with us, but she emphatically said, "Not in a Tripod!" A combined fear of heights and of Tripods meant she would board one only if dragged by wild horses, and perhaps not even then. She said she would return to the chateau some day in a boat and by carriage, "Like a normal person." But she did wish us well, and we agreed to carry a letter for her.

The night before we left, Eloise had a private, heartfelt talk with Helga and Juanita, with plenty of tears of sorrow and farewell.

 

At the appointed hour, Julius and Andre met both crews on the upper level. Julius wished everyone well. He told those of us headed to the castle that he would see us there in a few weeks. To everyone else, he said he would see them back where they were standing in about six hours.

For that was the really amazing thing. The Tripods were mind-numbingly fast, even when they seemed to move slowly, simply because each stride covered so much ground, and fording streams was no longer a problem. A two-week trip by boat and horse would take us only about three hours by Tripod, and even that was because we were being extra careful.

The crews parted to board our Tripods. Beanpole would travel in Tripod 1, and as he walked away, I heard Julius tell him, "We'll want to get our projects off the ground as soon as possible." Then he and Beanpole shared an odd smile, as if that was some kind of joke.

We set out. It was a gorgeous day with great visibility. Tripods 1 and 3 walked around Freetown to its opposite side. We stood the Tripods about a hundred meters apart (because we still had no idea if the autopilot was smart enough not to collide with another Tripod). We found the chateau on our electronic maps, assigned it as our destination, and set our Tripods in motion.

If only it were as easy as just letting the Tripod do all the work while we played cards. It was actually the opposite. The autopilot didn't care about people or buildings being in the way, so at any given time, at least three of us watched the land ahead. We had strict instructions to hit the stop switch the moment we feared we were about to tread on anything we shouldn't. And as it turned out, each crew had to press the stop switch several times.

We learned something during the trip: the autopilot was smart enough to go around large bodies of water. But as Beanpole pointed out later, they were probably only smart enough to avoid bodies of water which had been mapped. A new body of water, such as a recently flooded plain, would likely still be a problem.

The autopilot did not care about towns, but we wanted to avoid them altogether, so we had to use the stop switch a few times in this regard, as well. But we still passed lots of farms, and we saw people run in terror. We always used the speakers to announce, "These Tripods have been commandeered by the resistance. We are not the enemy." People would sometimes continue running anyway; sometimes gape; sometimes wave enthusiastically. One gave us a rude gesture even after hearing the announcement, and until the day I die, I will wonder what that was for. Hopefully it was directed at memories of the Tripods, not at those of us currently driving them.

One odd instance of using the stop switch came from Tripod 1. It halted, so we did, too, and Jan asked what was going on. There were no farms or people about, as best as we could tell.

The answer came back: one of the members of Crew 1 had felt certain they were about to crush a rabbit and couldn't let that happen.

We asked them to confirm. From Tripod 1's speakers came Fritz's calm voice: "Confirmed. Sandrine said she can't kill a bunny."

We were incredulous, except Miguel, who completely approved. I didn't bother telling Miguel that I'd eaten many a rabbit after slow-cooking it over an open fire.

"It takes all sorts, I suppose," Jan muttered.

Tripod 1 stepped over the lucky bunny and we resumed.

 

As we neared our destination, people and buildings became numerous enough that we switched to manual walking. I felt apprehensive as I glimpsed the Chateau de la Tour Rouge on the horizon. How would my future in-laws regard me now? I held Eloise's hand, because I knew her emotions were a million times more intense than mine.

"I don't even know if my letter reached them yet," Eloise suddenly whispered.

We saw several regiments, their standards proudly waving, encamped at various places within a few kilometers of the chateau. At a rough guess, I thought I saw around 7,000 soldiers.

Since those on the ground regarded us with wonder but not outright terror, it was clear they had received the message from Paris announcing our arrival. This was confirmed when I saw a large pavilion on the field near the chateau, with the Comte and Comtesse standing in front of it and a semicircle of knights arranged behind them. A small crowd, dressed in the finery of the gentry, gathered even more loosely behind the knights. They gazed up at us in amazement, but calmly. The large orange numbers painted on our Tripods must have looked somewhat amusing.

The pavilion had been erected next to a toppled Tripod. This placement was no accident; the Comte was clearly sending the message, Look, we can hurt the Tripods, too! Even though he really couldn't. Toppling a Tripod which was already dead was understandable, but not impressive in the slightest.

I thought about the downed Tripod's proximity to the chateau, then asked Eloise, "When we freed everyone from the caps, was it during the spring tournament?"

"Very likely," she said. "And the tournament always has at least one Tripod standing watch over it. The people probably pulled it down before sunset that same day."

Fritz's voice came from the speakers of Tripod 1. "Greetings," he said in French.

Many people below jumped and yelled in a brief moment of terror.

"Sorry, sorry!" Fritz said. "We should have warned you we can amplify our voices. Please allow us to join you immediately."

I chuckled despite myself. That could have gone better, but it wasn't Fritz's fault.

Tripod 1 opened their control room hatch and released a tentacle. It expertly snaked up and through the hatch, and the real test came right now. How good were we? And how much did we trust each other?

The tentacle reappeared holding Beanpole. He looked remarkably calm despite the fact that nothing was below him for 150 feet, although he had to hold his spectacles in place at first because of a stiff breeze at this height.

The tentacle slowly lowered Beanpole, and set him gently on the ground in front of the Comte and Comtesse. I saw him speak a few words to them, then give a small bow. No one was required to bow to a comte, but he did it anyway.

Fritz followed. He, too, looked calm, but I knew him well enough to know that this was only because he was mastering himself with a supreme effort.

As Fritz's feet touched earth, Jan opened our own hatch. The fresh spring air smelled wonderful.

Eloise and I looked at each other, and I knew we were both scared.

I asked, "Me first, so we save the best for last?"

She nodded, smiling stiffly.

Jan was already manipulating the sleeve, and the metallic tentacle came through the hatch. He wrapped it around me gently, just like we'd trained.

"It's been fun, everyone," I said, and meant it. "Take care."

"Bye, Will!" they cried. "Good luck!"

Then I was pulled out the hatch and my feet dangled over empty space.

I just shut down mentally. There's really no other way I could do it.

But Jan was very good. I watched the ground slowly approach, and Jan set me beside Fritz and Beanpole as if he'd been doing it for years.

I gave a slight bow to the Comte and Comtesse. "Count. My Lady. It is a great pleasure to see you both again."

"Welcome back, Guillaume!" the Comte said, and shook my hand.

The Comtesse said, "It is wonderful to see you again, Guillaume!"

Tripod 1 deftly set our wooden trunk behind us.

I looked up. Eloise appeared. She scrunched up her face and couldn't stop herself from letting out a very slight, restrained squeal. She kept her eyes closed the entire way. Moments before she reached us, I softly said, "You can open your eyes, you're here."

She did, and touched down safely. The tentacle withdrew. Immediately she was in her parents' arms.

They stayed like that for a full minute. We all waited patiently.

When they finally parted, tears streaming down their faces, the four of us who had just arrived waved to our comrades. Their hatches were closed, but two tentacles waved back at us. Then they set off. They would be back in Freetown before dinner.

I turned back to face our hosts, and found Henry standing in front of us with a stupid grin on his face.

I had rarely been so stunned in my life.

Beanpole and I both cried out in joy and gave him a massive hug. He just hugged us back and laughed. The Comte and Comtesse looked on fondly. Clearly, this surprise had been carefully planned, and perfectly sprung.

 

After many greetings, and the promise of a great feast tonight, all of us associated with the resistance retired to the parlor with the Comte and Comtesse. Along the way, Eloise asked about her brothers. Her parents said they were well, and had last seen them the previous autumn.

Servants brought food and drink, then left us alone for a long, private discussion. Eloise sat next to her parents, holding her mother's hand.

The moment the door closed, leaving us alone, Eloise told her parents she had something wonderful to tell them, and informed them she and I were engaged. They were delighted to hear this, as was Henry, who was also hearing this for the first time.

"Henry, how is it that you're here?" I asked.

Henry said his ship arrived in Europe about a week earlier and sailed up the Seine to Paris, where he checked in with the resistance there. During the journey, he wrote a detailed report of the failed attack on the American city. Once in Paris, he sent a copy to the castle and another to Freetown.

Imagine his surprise when he heard we had not only commandeered Tripods, but were visiting the chateau in two of them! He also heard that someone from Paris needed to alert the Comte and Comtesse we were coming. Without mentioning any sensitive information, he spoke with Julius over the radio briefly and agreed to meet us here, so he became the person who brought them the news. He had arrived two days earlier.

Knowing his presence would be a surprise, Henry asked Julius not to tell us he was here.

"And the look on your face was superb!" Henry said with a hearty laugh.

"You got us good," I admitted.

"Yes, that was well done!" Beanpole agreed.

Reading between the lines, it wasn't difficult to see why Julius sent Henry here. One more respected member of the resistance whom the Comte had met five years previously couldn't hurt the effort to get him to change his mind. The fact that Henry arrived at the right time to become the messenger was pure serendipity.

I was dying to hear Henry's tale from America, but the Comte and Comtesse had already heard it, as Henry had told them everything he could. They wanted to know everything new we could tell them, and their curiosity was more important than mine. They were not only our hosts, but we wanted to give them every consideration we possibly could, knowing the difficult discussion to come.

Of course they wanted to hear from Eloise, first. The Comtesse blanched at her daughter's description of the Masters. The Comte visibly restrained his wrath upon hearing what they had done to his daughter. In the tightly-controlled rage of a loving father, I saw the doom of 15,000 men. But the time to talk of that was not now.

They were dumbfounded as Eloise spoke so easily about learning to operate a Tripod. The Comtesse even looked at me in amazement, so I nodded and said, "It's true. Eloise was a valued member of Crew 3, and has become quite proficient at using a Tripod's tentacle."

When it was my turn to speak, I skipped part of my tale, as Henry had already told them the real reason he, Beanpole, and I had appeared in their lives five years earlier. Nevertheless, I took the opportunity to apologize for running away after they had not only been exceedingly hospitable, but actually invited me to join their family. I also apologized for stealing Aristide, who was a fine horse. They immediately assured me no apologies were necessary, and that they were, in fact, ecstatic we had escaped being capped.

Henry had told them Fritz and I infiltrated the European city as spies, but they wanted to hear a first-hand account of that, and of all that came after. So Fritz and I spent the next ninety minutes telling them almost everything we knew.

I made a point to emphasize Beanpole's brilliance at deducing the women in the Pyramid of Beauty were still alive, and figuring out how to revive them. I put Beanpole on a pedestal, making sure they understood that Eloise was with us today only because of him (largely true). This was a completely shameless attempt on my part to influence the Comte to revere everything Beanpole said, and to give him anything he wanted. If it saved 15,000 men from marching to their pointless deaths, I had no problem being that unscrupulous. And the Comte did indeed thank Beanpole profusely.

Then Eloise told them about Marie, and handed them her letter. They were excited, and talked for a little while about which other young women from the area might be returning soon.

Naturally, talk then turned to the Comte's current desires.

"I hope so very much that this Julius will send his troops to join mine in our great attack," he said.

Beanpole deflected this nicely by simply asking, "Where are these Tripods you propose to attack?"

"I only know their general vicinity," the Comte said. "But I expect no difficulty finding them."

"It's very difficult to scout them," Fritz said. "They appear to be extremely watchful, and kill almost anyone who discovers their location."

"Nevertheless, I will find them. How many troops do you have?"

"None," Beanpole said, and the Comte frowned. "We don't have an army, and we don't train warriors. We use science and machinery to defeat the enemy. It has worked so far."

"It has worked so far because the situation called for it," the Comte said. "Things have changed, so tactics must change, too. Now we need armies!"

"Some things have changed," Fritz agreed. "But the fact that the enemy is fortified inside 4,000-ton metal war machines has not."

"Tripods can be toppled," the Comte said. "What stands tall may be brought low, and the higher it stands, the harder its fall."

I had to hand it to the Comte. He had a certain wisdom about these things, and he was so emphatic and passionate that I could easily see myself, in different circumstances, eagerly signing up to join his crusade.

I left the diplomatic back-and-forth to Beanpole and Fritz, who were much more suited to this kind of thing. And I confess a certain reticence – some might even call it cowardice – on my part, as I had no wish to argue with my future father-in-law, and thus was grateful someone else could do it instead.

Even so, the attempt to change his mind was the sole reason I was here in the first place. I hadn't been sent halfway across Europe to sit in a parlor and eat cakes. Julius had specifically said that Eloise and I were the two people the Comte was most likely to listen to.

But because I was his future son-in-law, I felt that any words I spoke should be carefully chosen, and – far more importantly – carefully timed. And I felt the current conversation was not that time.

Eloise, of course, had no such difficulty. She could engage in any argument in the world and still be their beloved daughter. "Father, your attack will achieve nothing! The enemy's weapons, and the speed with which they use them, are too formidable. No spear will hurt a Tripod. They will see any rope sent over them, and simply move out of the way in a matter of seconds, or use their tentacles to cut the rope immediately!"

The Comte visibly struggled to argue strategy with his daughter. It was painfully obvious to everyone – including Eloise herself – that he deemed this subject to be beyond a woman's ability to grasp, and he was vexed that she actually grasped it quite well.

"But we can't do nothing!" he said. "Allowing these monsters to remain on our land is unacceptable!"

"No one is proposing doing nothing," Beanpole said. "All we're proposing is that we not do this."

"And what alternative do you have?" he asked.

"That depends on the situation," Beanpole said. "If these Tripods are simply surviving without taking further action, then they can wait until after we destroy the third city, which by far has priority, I'm sure you will agree. The best outcome is that their drivers simply run out of air and die. But if these Tripods are up to something specific, then we might divert technological resources to attack them, depending on the severity of the threat."

The Comte shook his head. "We cannot assume they will simply run out of air and die. The risk is too great for that kind of passivity. And yes, the third city has priority. But my army can attack these remaining Tripods here while your resistance attacks them on the other side of the world. It is not an either-or situation."

"That is true, and a very astute observation," Fritz said diplomatically. "But if we can devise some technological method of attack, we can hurt them far more effectively than spears and ropes can, and with far fewer lives lost."

"And what method of attack would that be?" the Comte asked.

"That's difficult to answer," Beanpole said. "We have possibilities. But any technological weapon we use against the Tripods here then becomes a weapon we dare not use against the city, because the Masters in the Tripods will tell the city about it. So you see our dilemma."

"All the more reason to attack with my army," the Comte said, as if Beanpole had just made his point for him.

The Comtesse smiled and said, "We can continue this discussion tomorrow. The evening is upon us, and it's time to prepare for the feast."

"Yes, let us prepare for the feast," her husband said. "Today is the day to celebrate our daughter's return, and her engagement!"

We all heartily agreed on that. Despite the disagreement, everyone was still very much in a good mood. We had a common enemy, and we were all willing to risk our lives fighting them. That bond, at least, was unbreakable.

Servants showed us to our rooms, where fresh clothing had been provided. The five of us in the resistance briefly met in Beanpole's room to review the discussion we'd just had.

"That went better than I thought it would," Henry said.

Beanpole nodded. "I get the impression he is much more open to the idea of an alternative attack than I expected, if we can give him one."

"I agree," Fritz said. "Also, I notice he's fond of wise sayings, so if we phrase our argument in the form of one, that may have an impact."

"Very true," Eloise said. "He does love his adages."

"You didn't say much during the discussion, Will," Beanpole said, though his tone was not accusatory.

"You and Fritz are far better at words, whereas my specialty is punching people in the nose," I said lightheartedly. "But I listened to you both, and I learned. And all joking aside, because he is my future father-in-law, I think I can have a greater impact if I speak the right words at the right moment, rather than trying to argue with him. I just have to be good enough to know that moment when it comes, and hope the words are there."

"They will be," Eloise said confidently.

"I dunno," I said. "Boxer, remember? All fists."

"You sell yourself short, Will," Fritz said.

"Indeed," Eloise said crisply, and I could tell she was genuinely a bit miffed about my self-deprecation. "Do you remember when I was distraught after being revived, and began to panic and pull at my cap?"

I nodded. "I do, yes."

"And do you remember who calmed me down, with words of wisdom and understanding?"

I gave a little smile of acceptance. "I believe that was me."

"It was," she said. "So do not doubt your words, Guillaume. Or I shall have to punch you in the nose."

We all laughed long and loudly at this.

 

The feast was as good as I remembered. Over a hundred people gathered in the great hall. As the Comte's honored guests, we sat with him at the main table. Eloise sat beside her mother, and I sat beside her. The food was varied, plentiful, and delicious. The musicians were talented. A juggler entertained us. A magician wandered around, making birds appear out of nowhere and pulling coins from behind people's ears.

The Comte emotionally called for a toast to the return of his daughter, in which everyone heartily joined. He then announced our engagement and called for another toast, which was celebrated more loudly than the first.

 

When we had stayed reasonably late into the merrymaking, our group retired, saying that we had been up for a very long time, which was true. Eloise came with us, promising her mother she would spend much more time with her in the next few days.

"Henry," I said as we left the hall. "I'm dying to know what happened in America."

"Bring wine, and I'll tell you all about it."

So we grabbed some wine and cups and went to find some place quieter, the noise of the festivities behind us fading, then dying to nothing as we walked along the chateau's silent corridors.

Eloise led us to the veranda at the rear of the chateau. This veranda was much nearer the living quarters so not many visitors actually came here, and it was vacant at the moment. It looked out over the smaller river at the point just before it joined the larger one.

The spring night was so beautiful and calm, the weather perfectly clear. The only sounds were the flowing water and the breeze rustling the trees. The moon wasn't visible at the moment, and the sky was resplendent with stars.

I leaned on the balustrade and looked out over the river, and instantly rediscovered an aroma I'd purposefully forgotten because it had been too painful.

Eloise appeared at my side. I smiled and said, "Smell that?"

"It's the flowers we smelled the day we picnicked on the island," she said, smiling also.

Henry settled into a cushioned chair and poured himself a little wine. He set the carafe on the small table in front of him, which was surrounded by two more chairs and a small sofa. Beanpole and Fritz sat in the other chairs, and Beanpole poured himself some wine.

As I turned to join them, Eloise touched my hand and whispered something only I could hear. "I will come to you after we retire."

"Your mother placed us in separate rooms," I whispered back. "Do they approve of you visiting me before we're married?"

"I don't want my parents to know I have nightmares," she whispered, looking deeply concerned. "If I cry out in my sleep, the servants may hear and report it."

I nodded, understanding. Her nightmares had been lessening, but they were still a problem. My presence beside her, even if all I did was hold her, often calmed her.

As Eloise and I sat on the sofa, I motioned to the carafe and looked at her. "Just a little," she said. I poured her a third of a cup and handed it to her. I took none for myself; I'd drunk enough at the feast and was beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

Henry told us what happened. Disease struck his team a week before they entered the city, and the substitute members weren't as well trained. But they still could have succeeded if it weren't for the two Masters wrestling near the entrance to the water purification facility at the moment of attack. They wouldn't go away. With the deadline looming, Henry took a chance, but his team was spotted. They killed one Master, but the other ran and sounded the alarm. Henry's team scattered. Only half made it out. We had to assume the others had been captured, and all their knowledge forcefully taken from their minds.

Henry looked into his wine, as if he could find solace there. "So we failed," he said quietly.

"It was just bad luck, nothing more," Fritz said. "It could have happened to any of the three teams. If it had happened to ours, I would have made exactly the same call, and our fate would probably have been the same."

"I know," Henry said with a weak smile. "But that doesn't make it feel any better." He gave a slight shrug. "I mean...I failed to make the cut to be sent to the Games. When I got the opportunity to lead a crucial mission, I thought, this is my chance to do something. Then that failed, too." He looked despondent and bitter. "So here I sit with two personal failures. And this time...some of my comrades died."

Fritz said, "When you lose a person under your command, it takes a part of you you'll never get back. Like a piece of you dies with them." He placed a hand on Henry's arm. "I understand, for that happened to me, as well."

Henry looked up, and he and Fritz shared a look of understanding, one mission commander to another.

"I made the Games, but failed to win either of my events," Beanpole said. His head was slightly down, looking at nothing in particular. "I can't even swear I gave my best effort. I've never told anyone this...but not a day goes by that I don't think of that at least once. My great failure. In my deepest heart, it still burns. I'm sure it always will."

"You were extraordinary," I said. "Instead of going back, you followed us to the city and waited for three months merely on the chance that we might make it out. I can't think of anyone else who would have been that diligent, or dedicated. And without you doing that, I would have died, and so much precious information might have been lost or come too late. I owe you my life for that day, just as much as on the day we met. So if you call yourself a failure one more time, Jean-Paul Deliet, I'll throw you in the river."

Beanpole gave a little smile, then looked up at me. "You see, Will? You do know the right words to say."

I chuckled at that. Then my smile faded as I remembered my own shame. "And if you want to talk about the ultimate failure, never forget that in this very chateau, I once decided to exchange my free will for a prison of comfort and pleasure, and I made that choice knowing full well what it meant. I was saved by circumstance, but like you said, that shame still burns deep inside, and it probably always will. And that wasn't a physical failure, it was the worst kind of failure of all: a moral one."

Eloise took my hand and said, "Forgive yourself, Guillaume. The rest of us do."

"Very true," said Henry meaningfully, and I could tell that, underneath, that was his apology for mocking me all those years ago.

"Yes indeed," Beanpole said. "Or it will be my turn to throw you into the river." We shared a smile.

Henry said, "After being passed over for the Games, and failing to destroy their city...I ache so much for a success. For a win. I don't care how selfish it is, I just want a day when I land a solid, meaningful punch." His voice grew quiet. "Make them pay for the people they've killed."

"I feel the same," Beanpole said, growing wistful. "I, too, would like my own moment, if I could have an indulgence. Instead of being apart from the action, always advising from the side, researching...just once, I'd like to attack directly. Hit our oppressors with my own fist! Smash them hard, right in their collective face, even once." He shook his head. "That would be something."

"I know exactly how you feel, Beanpole, Henry," Eloise said softly, and I realized that was the first time she had ever used Beanpole's nickname. "We keep my nightmares secret, supposedly, but I know everyone knows. The enemy invades my dreams each night, and I scream. And I know that comes from being powerless...violated...trapped in darkness. I, too, wish for a moment." She tightened her mouth, surprised by a sudden appearance of tears. "To take my power back, for what they did to me. For what they did to all of us. For our shared scars. I would dearly love just a single moment when I could strike them so hard they become aware of their wrongs, and burn with the knowledge of their sins."

Beanpole raised his cup. "May we have that moment, Eloise."

She clinked her cup to his and smiled. She looked at Henry, and said, "May we all have that moment."

Henry smiled back and raised his cup in salute. "I'm sure we will," he said, and suddenly grew emotional. "Because I know in my heart, I'll return to the American continent, and I will fulfill my mission. Even if the resistance never sends me back, I would return on my own, for that city is mine." He looked at each of us. "I swear to you all, I'll see that blight removed from the Earth if it's the last thing I do."