Chapter 199: A Brave New World (1)
Chapter 199: A Brave New World (1)
“A Brave New World (1)”
After hearing my proposal, Talleyrand tilted his head and said,
“Is that really necessary?”
“Pardon?”
“Is it truly worth going that far? Transporting people all the way across the Atlantic alone would require considerable effort.”
“Hmm.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to use it as a bargaining chip in diplomacy? In any case, it’s overseas colonial land on the American continent. It could serve as a card to draw the United States into an alliance. Or, failing that, we could simply sell it and bring in cash.”
“Well now…”
But Monsieur Talleyrand, this America coin is guaranteed to skyrocket. No, not just skyrocket—it will shoot past Mars and reach Jupiter.
What would happen if I stood before people like Nostradamus and prophesied: “Two hundred years from now, the United States will become a superpower that dominates the entire world, and Britain and France will be nothing more than its number-one and number-two lackeys!”
What would happen?
Obviously, even if I screamed, “Let go of me! You fools must liquidate all your assets and buy America coin! It’s going to Mars!” I would simply be declared insane and locked in an asylum while people sighed, “He was such a good friend. What a pity.”
Putting that aside, the territory we agreed to receive lies south of 49 degrees north latitude. In other words, everything below the British North American colonies of Newfoundland and Labrador—essentially right beneath Canada.
49° north.
According to the elementary school song “Dokdo Is Our Land,” the island of Dokdo lies at 127° east longitude and 37° north latitude. If our territory extends all the way to 49° north, the scale of the land is difficult even to imagine.
Naturally, our French Ministry of Foreign Affairs requested properly surveyed data.
—Surveyed? We haven’t done that ourselves, so we don’t know.
—Stop the nonsense and hand over the documents.
—We really don’t know. We haven’t even finished surveying Mexico, which we took three hundred years ago. How could we survey a place we only acquired twenty years ago?
—Don’t lie. What country doesn’t survey its own land?
—This one.
—Are you joking with us? Do you want to die?
—We’re serious! Don’t overestimate us!
At first our diplomats refused to accept reality. But when Spain, nearly grabbed by the collar, continued insisting with teary eyes that they truly did not know, the Foreign Ministry had no choice but to accept the truth.
—No one should even dream of going home for the next week.
—Damn it!
—Cough, cough! What is all this dust?
—These are documents from before the Seven Years’ War. Of course they’re dusty. That was nearly thirty years ago.
—We do have records about Louisiana, which used to be part of New France, but beyond that there’s almost nothing.
—Really? Then it won’t be a week—you won’t be going home for two weeks.
The lands where people at least once planted a flag include Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Kanso.
Arkansas. I had heard the name before. When read in French, it sounds like Arkanso.
The Louisiana and Mississippi river regions correspond to the modern states of Louisiana and Mississippi.
The region named after the Kanso River becomes Kansas when read in English. Whether Ellis and the magic rabbit currently live there or not, it is indeed the Kansas that appears in Alice in Wonderland.
My chest swelled with emotion. To think that this land belonged to us. It was so vast I worried we might choke trying to swallow it.
No matter how I thought about it, Dumouriez was a legend. Therefore it would surely please the people if that great legend went there and cultivated the land into a treasure.
Frankly speaking, the present-day United States is little more than a minor country, not even comparable to Ireland. But in 2022 the United States, which successfully digested the entire North American continent, became a monster nation capable of waging war against the whole world alone.
So if we digest even a portion of that land now, it will surely help in the great war Talleyrand predicted.
“What are you thinking about so deeply?”
“I’m devising a plan to protect newborn New France, which is crying like an infant, from the terrifying bag-carrying ogre known as the Foreign Ministry.”
“Oh ho. It seems you value America rather highly.”
“At least more than a one-time bargaining chip.”
I took a sip of coffee and continued.
“Even here in Europe we have useful mining regions like Alsace–Lorraine, or even Liverpool in Britain. Do you really think there isn’t a single such place on that vast American continent?”
“You believe there exists a mine valuable enough to justify crossing the Atlantic and investing enormous effort?”
“Well… even if not mines, there must be many other uses.”
“And if there aren’t?”
“Deputy Talleyrand, did you come here to fight me?”
“Fight? I’m simply discussing whether the investment will produce a return.”
Damn it. Return on investment. I almost want to say, “I’ve seen the future—spaceships and aircraft carriers will come out of there!”
“Putting that aside, let me ask you this. Who will feed the Russians? Will the Foreign Ministry pay for their meals? Obviously you’ll dump that responsibility on our Ministry of Finance. Or will you requisition land from farmers who just received it?”
“Ha. If you intend to steer the conversation that way, I must concede that point.”
Exactly. So are you paying?
“Very well. The Foreign Ministry will no longer argue about this matter. However—”
“However?”
“How do you plan to control the Russians?”
“Well…”
That’s something I’ll have to think about step by step.
Though I do have one idea.
Gulp. Gulp.
“Ahhh.”
“You’re drinking very happily.”
“Of course. It’s being paid for with someone else’s money.”
“If you know that, then use your brain and produce an idea.”
Did they think I was spending my precious personal funds just so they could eat and drink endlessly? At least in university group projects, if someone buys chicken and pizza they’re treated like a hero. Napoleon, Grouchy, Mathieu, and the rest of my classmates had done nothing but eat for hours.
“My thought is this.”
“Oh? Brother Mathieu finally has an idea?”
“Could you buy one more bottle fir—ah! Aah! Alright, alright!”
“Just die already!”
So much for friendship among classmates. Instead of brainstorming solutions for a comrade in need, they only wanted to attach straws to my wallet.
Just as I was lamenting my situation internally, Grouchy spoke.
“I’ve been thinking. Those people are farmers who lived by digging the soil.”
“Well, that’s true.”
“If we teach them the noble ideals of our revolutionary army, wouldn’t their eyes open?”
“Rejected.”
“Why?”
“Unrealistic. Next.”
The language barrier alone would be enormous. Even if we lectured with books open, who knows whether they would listen.
Pointing to Mathieu, I said,
“Our groom-to-be, whose wedding is in two weeks, give it a try.”
“Well… perhaps we should entice them with something material rather than words.”
“So violence makes people listen?”
“Want to test that theory?”
I’ll pass. Next—Monsieur Bonaparte.
“Material incentives do work well on people. But…”
“But?”
“If you aren’t outright bribing them with gold and silver, it might backfire.”
“Hmm.”
“Some people value something spiritual more than treasure.”
“Spoken like a two-time recipient of the Order of Saint Louis.”
Napoleon drank some wine and continued.
“And one more thing.”
“What?”
“If you already have something in mind, just say it.”
“Hmm.”
“You clearly have some strange idea already. You’re just waiting for us to confirm it.”
Napoleon. This is exactly why people with sharp instincts are annoying.
I tapped the table with my finger.
“…Will it work?”
“When it comes to handling people, your instincts are usually correct.”
“…Alright. Drinks are on me. Enjoy yourselves.”
“Where are you going?”
“To try the idea.”
“Boss, what brings you here so late?”
“I thought it was about time to collect on my investment. I came to see how my money has been spent.”
“Haha, fair enough. Come in. Richard is working inside.”
Murdoch guided me into a factory filled with the smell of metal shavings.
“Richard! The boss is here!”
“I’ll be right down!”
From deep within the workshop a man ran out, his face covered in soot.
“Welcome, boss!”
“Mr. Trevithick, it’s been a while. How is the steam locomotive coming along?”
“Haha, there are still a few shortcomings, but it’s nearly complete. Give me another half year and I’ll deliver a flawless machine.”
“…Half a year. Is operation impossible right now?”
“It can run, but…”
Trevithick shook his head.
“The cylinder durability is still insufficient, so long-distance travel like you wanted is impossible.”
“How long can it run?”
“With high pressure in the cylinder, about thirty minutes. With low pressure, perhaps two hours.”
“That will be sufficient. Have you tested it?”
“Inside the factory, yes. But not outside.”
“Perfect. Let’s plan a field test soon.”
“A field test?”
“We’ll lay about one kilometer of track and conduct a demonstration.”
“Yes, boss.”
Murdoch and Trevithick looked puzzled, but I simply smiled.
France, outskirts of Paris.
Temporary prisoner camp, Lemur.
“Listen carefully! You will now be transferred to a new location. Pack your gear and prepare to march!”
“Hey, what did that Frenchman say?”
“I think he said to pack up.”
“Really? Well, we should do what they say. Dmitri, get up.”
“Y-yes? What’s happening?”
“They’re moving the camp.”
Dmitri rubbed his sleepy face and packed his belongings quickly.
As a prisoner, disobedience could lead to terrible consequences. Among the thousands of Turkish prisoners captured by the Russian army, how many ever returned home unharmed? Dmitri believed the number barely reached three digits.
So far the French had treated them decently, but no one knew when that might change.
“March!”
“I wonder how far we’ll go this time.”
The Russian prisoners had already marched for an entire month from Corsica to this camp at Lemur. Who knew how far they would go next?
Dmitri simply chewed the bread given by the French and kept walking.
Then suddenly—
“A monster!”
“A wizard!”
“…What is that noise?”
Screams began rising from the front of the column.