“Alchemists say that veins of minerals in the earth are twigs and offshoots of an immense Tree whose trunk is the center of the earth, and that metals rise like sap-” Sterling said, the firelight on his bemused face. Daniel was too tired at first to take the analogy-or perhaps he was underestimating Sterling. He assumed Sterling was prying for suggestions on where to look for gold mines. But later, as Sterling’s coach was taking him off towards Charing Cross, he understood that Sterling had been telling him that the growth of money and commerce was-as far as Natural Philosophers were concerned-like the development of that mysterious subterranean Tree: suspected, sensed, sometimes exploited for profit, but, in the end, unknowable.

THEKING’SHEADTAVERNwas dark, but it was not closed. When Daniel entered he saw patches of glowing green light here and there-pooled on tabletops and smeared on walls-and heard Persons of Quality speaking in hushed voices punctuated by outbreaks of riotous giggling. But the glow faded, and then serving-wenches scurried out with rush-lights and re-lit all of the lamps, and finally Daniel could see Pepys and Wilkins and Comstock, and the Duke of Gunfleet, and Sir Christopher Wren, and Sir Winston Churchill, and-at the best table-the Earl of Upnor, dressed in what amounted to a three-dimensional Persian carpet, trimmed with fur and studded with globs of colored glass, or perhaps they were precious gems.

Upnor was explaining phosphorus to three gaunt women with black patches glued all over their faces and necks: “It is known, to students of the Art, that each metal is created when rays from a particular planet strike and penetrate the Earth, videlicet, the Sun’s rays create gold; the Moon’s, silver; Mercury’s, quicksilver; Venus’s, copper; Mars’s, iron; Jupiter’s, tin; and Saturn’s lead. Mr. Root’s discovery of a new elemental substance suggests there may be another planet-presumably of a green color-beyond the orbit of Saturn.”

Daniel edged toward a table where Churchill and Wren were talking past each other, staring ever so thoughtfully at nothing: “It faces to the east, and it’s rather far north, isn’t it? Perhaps His Majesty should name it New Edinburgh…”

“That would only give the Presbyterians ideas!” Churchill scoffed.

“It’s not that far north,” Pepys put in from another table. “Boston is farther north by one and a half degrees of latitude.”

“We can’t go wrong suggesting that he name it after himself…”

“Charlestown? That name is already in use-Boston again.”

“His brother then? But Jamestown was used in Virginia.”

“What are you talking about?” Daniel inquired.

“New Amsterdam! His Majesty is acquiring it in exchange for Surinam,” Churchill said.

“Speak up, Sir Winston, there may be some Vagabonds out in Dorset who didn’t hear you!” Pepys roared.

“His Majesty has asked the Royal Society to suggest a new name for it,” Churchill added, sotto voce.

“Hmmm… his brother sort of conquered the place, didn’t he?” Daniel asked. He knew the answer, but couldn’t presume to lecture men such as these.

“Yes,” Pepys said learnedly, “ ’twas all part of York’s Atlantic campaign- firsthe took several Guinea ports, rich in gold, and richer in slaves, from the Dutchmen, and then it was straight down the trade winds to his next prize-New Amsterdam.”

Daniel made a small bow toward Pepys, then continued: “If you can’t use his Christian name of James, perhaps you can use his title… after all, York is a city up to the north on our eastern coast-and yet not too far north…”

“We have already considered that,” Pepys said glumly. “There’s a Yorktown in Virginia.”

“What about ‘New York’?” Daniel asked.

“Clever… but too obviously derivative of ‘New Amsterdam,’” Churchill said.

“If we call it ‘New York,’ we’re naming it after the city of York… the point is to name it after the Duke of York,” Pepys scoffed.

Daniel said, “You are correct, of course-”

“Oh, come now!” Wilkins barked, slapping a table with the flat of his hand, splashing beer and phosphorus all directions. “Don’t be pedantic, Mr. Pepys. Everyone will understand what it means.”

“Everyone who is clever enough to matter, anyway,” Wren put in.

“Err… I see, you are proposing a more subtile approach,” Sir Winston Churchill muttered.

“Let’s put it on the list!” Wilkins suggested. “It can’t hurt to include as many ‘York’ and ‘James’ names as we can possibly think up.”

“Hear, hear!” Churchill harrumphed-or possibly he was just clearing his throat-or summoning a barmaid.

“As you wish-never mind,” Daniel said. “I take it that Mr. Root’s Demonstration was well received-?”

For some reason this caused eyes to swivel, ever so briefly, toward the Earl of Upnor. “It went well,” Pepys said, drawing closer to Daniel, “until Mr. Root threatened to spank the Earl. Don’t look at him, don’t look at him,” Pepys continued levelly, taking Daniel’s arm and turning him away from the Earl. The timing was unfortunate, because Daniel was certain he had just overhead Upnor mentioning Isaac Newton by name, and wanted to eavesdrop.

Pepys led him past Wilkins, who was good-naturedly spanking a barmaid. The publican rang a bell and everyone blew out the lights-the tavern went dark except for the freshly invigorated phosphorus. Everyone said “Woo!” and Pepys wrangled Daniel out into the street. “You know that Mr. Root makes the stuff from urine?”

“So it is rumored,” Daniel said. “Mr. Newton knows more of the Art than I do-he has told me that Enoch the Red was following an ancient recipe to extract the Philosophic Mercury from urine, but happened upon phosphorus instead.”

“Yes, and he has an entire tale that he tells, of how he found the recipe in Babylonia.” Pepys rolled his eyes. “Enthralled the courtiers. Anyway-for this evening’s Demo’, he’d collected urine from a sewer that drains Whitehall, and boiled it- endlessly-on a barge in the Thames. I’ll spare you the rest of the details-suffice it to say that when it was finished, and they were done applauding, and all of the courtiers were groping for a way to liken the King’s splendor and radiance to that of Phosphorus-”

“Oh, yes, I suppose that would’ve been obligatory-?”

Wilkins banged out the tavern door, apparently just to watch the story being related to Daniel.

“The Earl of Upnor made some comment to the effect that some kingly essence-a royal humour-must suffuse the King’s body, and be excreted in his urine, to account for all of this. And when all of the other courtiers were finished agreeing, and marveling at the Earl’s philosophick acumen, Enoch the Red said, ‘In truth, most of this urine came from the Horse Guards-and their horses.’”

“Whereat, the Earl was on his feet! His hand reaching for his sword-to defend His Majesty’s honor, of course,” Wilkins said.

“What was His Majesty’s state of mind?” Daniel asked.

Wilkins made his hands into scale-pans and bobbled them up and down. “Then Mr. Pepys tipped the scales. He related an anecdote from the Restoration, in 1660, when he had been on the boat with the King, and certain members of his household-including the Earl of Upnor, then no more than twelve years old. Also aboard was the King’s favorite old dog. The dog shit in the boat. The young Earl kicked at the dog, and made to throw it overboard-but was stayed by the King, who laughed at it, and said, ‘You see, in some ways, at least, Kings are like other men!’”

“Did he really say such a thing!?” Daniel exclaimed, and instantly felt like an idiot-

“Of course not!” Pepys said, “I merely told the story that way because I thought it would be useful-”

“And was it?”

“The King laughed,” Pepys said with finality.

“And Enoch Root inquired, whether it had then been necessary to give the Earl a spanking, to teach him respect for his elders.”