Someone reminded me that if I was going to post the Prologue of The Galileo Ducat, I should post the Prologue of The Franklin Key also. So…..meet Ben Franklin (and Constantine VII):

Prologue

The Key

959 C.E.

 Blachernae Palace, Constantinople

There was a room inside Blachernae Palace that was always locked, whether the Emperor was in residence or not.  It was the subject of much speculation.  Not many people knew what was in that room, perhaps three at most: the Emperor, his royal alchemist, and the Court Magician.  The room had a table, a chair, and a rug, nothing more.  

In 959 C.E. Constantine VII was the Emperor of Byzantium, but it was also the year of his death.  He was an educated man who believed in diplomacy.   He was responsible for several encyclopedic-type compilations and other books on a wide variety of subjects.  His most famous book was "De Administrando Imperio".

On the table, in that most secret room, there was a large, leather-bound book, heavily gilded, bearing the title The Book of Wiles (or something close to it, there being no exact translation from the Turkic). It was an alchemy textbook that was very ancient already.  The court alchemist didn't know where it had come from.  Neither did the magician.  Presumably, Constantine VII knew, but if he did, he wasn't telling.  He almost certainly did not write it himself.

Also on the table was a fat beeswax candle on a rather large and ornate brass plate.  On the plate, too, was a brass key.  If you could have examined the key, you would have found that it was inscribed:  Zaman akıcıdır. Bilenler gezebilir.

The key had been made by Alexios the royal alchemist from a “recipe” in the Book of Wiles, at the direction of Constantine.   But Alexios did not speak or write Turkic, so he did not know the meaning of the words.  Constantine did.  If it worked, it would allow the possessor to jump through time, though no one knew how.  The words on the key meant “Time is fluid.  Those who know can travel.”

Constantine was wrapped in purple silk robes, embroidered with gold. The robes were the symbol of his royal position.  But he was neither wearing his crown nor carrying his scepter.  He didn't look particularly pleased.  His eyebrows knit together, and his eyes darkened.  He had a scowl on his face as he stood in the room facing his alchemist.  “Does it work?”

It was the royal magician, Doukas, who answered, “We don't know, sire.  Alexios has followed the recipe just as you instructed.  And he inscribed the words on the key.  But the truth is, we were afraid.  We don't know anything about where this book came from, or who wrote these instructions.”

“Nor will you ever.”  Constantine banished both of them from the Empire, and they were never heard from again.

There’s no proof that Constantine VII  ever made a jump.  If he did, he made a great secret of it.  But strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, the key and the book both disappeared upon his death.

 No tales of a magical key were ever heard after that.  Where was the key?  Was it in Constantinople or had it been spirited abroad?  And where was the Book of Wiles?  Few knew about it, but those who did would have sold their souls to acquire it.  It was generally thought that Constantine had hidden both somewhere before his death.

Benjamin Franklin

sometime in 1752

America!  I loved our lovely collection of intrepid colonies, but I loved England as well.  Whenever I was in England, I felt so alive.  There were so many ideas to discuss and so many great minds to discuss them with.  I spent many happy afternoons and evenings in the Smyrna Coffee House, in the heart of London, with my dear friend Peter Collinson, a good Quaker man who shared many of my interests.  He was a businessman, but at heart, he was a scientist. We were almost always joined by a changing cast of characters, each one unique, but all with a contribution to make to our pursuits.

More than once, Peter sent me books and supplies from England, the latest tomes that were being discussed there.  More than once, I sent him long letters describing the work I was doing with electricity.  I was publishing various books and pamphlets myself.  He shared my letters and pamphlets with his colleagues and fellow scientists.  Between us, I believe we brought much information about electricity to the world.  I like to think we are responsible for making the world safer with my invention of the lightning rod.  I met William Watson, Joseph Priestly, and others as well.  But without question, Collinson was my dearest friend in England.  We understood each other.

I sailed home from England on the Royal Mail Packet in the summer of 1752, and it was not a pleasant voyage.  Because I was known to be doing some diplomatic work at the time, I was afforded a private cabin.  It was a great blessing that I was able to be alone in my misery.  I ate little, for it was difficult to keep food down.  I dare say I lost ten pounds on that voyage.  If it would not have been unseemly, I might have kissed the ground when the ship docked and I could have walked off of it.

On that journey, we encountered storms that rocked the ship unmercifully.  Each new storm sent everything in my stateroom flying.   One day, while onboard the Packet, I was on my hands and knees picking up the bric-a-brac that had gone flying in one of the storms.  A gleam, dull but distinct, came from just under the edge of the low bunk that had been mine for this unholy journey. When I reached for it, I discovered it was a brass key.  It appeared to me to be a tumbler key, but it did not seem to be like any other key on the ship, including the one to my stateroom.  I didn’t think much more about it, absentmindedly slipping the key into the pocket of my jacket.  I meant to consult the purser, and I forgot all about it until I was at home again.  

I was in my printing shop when I put my hand in my jacket and felt the key there.  I hadn't looked at it again on the voyage.  Now, I took it out and examined it in the light of day.  It appeared to be made of brass, which was unusual.  Most keys in my experience were iron.  It was flatter than an ordinary key and I could now see that there was writing on it.  They were words I didn’t recognize and couldn’t pronounce, so I didn’t try.  I put the key on a shelf in my shop and didn’t think about it again until the day I wanted to perform my experiment with a kite in a thunderstorm. While looking for a key to attach to the kite I spotted my strange find from the ship.  So I took that key and tied it to the kite, believing it would be a good conductor.  Indeed it was.

 When we had completed my little experiment, and the kite was on the ground, we dashed into my shop and out of the rain.   I handed the key to my friend Zachariah who handed it to his wife Susannah.  I had prepared a Leyden jar which she was holding.  Susannah dropped the key into the jar.  We all saw a spark, but there didn’t seem to be any damage to Susannah or the jar, so we put the jar on the shelf where the key had been.

Susannah Graham, the wife of my friend Zachariah, came back the next day when I was not at home.  My dear wife let her into the shop to wait for me.  Curious, Susannah took the key out of the jar.  Unlike me, she decided to try pronouncing the words on the key.  She tried a second time, and though no one was there to see it, Susannah disappeared.  She told me that she was somehow thrown through time to 1652.