Landfalls by Naomi J. Williams Page B

demands of science.” Mongez panted back in reply, and they proceeded in silence, for it had grown hot and their water flasks were empty.
    But in this, as in everything, Lamanon was not vexed for long. By the time he is back in his cabin on the Boussole , caught up in the demands of scientific correspondence, he has all but forgotten the dressing-down he received from Monsieur de Lap é rouse, a dressing-down that would have mortified any other member of the expedition. He is immune to mortification, our Lamanon. He is happy to make his report and repeat the sentiment about the expedition being a happy family with Lap é rouse as their head. He does not know that at this very moment, the “father” in question is scrawling a note to his own friend, the Count de Fleurieu, complaining about Lamanon. “As ignorant as a Capuchin!” Lap é rouse writes. He regrets very much that one of their astronomers has been laid so low by seasickness that he is being sent home from Tenerife. “Oh, that it were Lamanon instead!” he says.
    Lap é rouse’s frustration with him is understandable, but can we blame Lamanon for going through with his costly trip to the peak? Indulgent it may have been, but it was also a kind of test for the more difficult work ahead, and addressed many questions: What equipment does he need for excursions off the ship? How quickly can he pack? Do his knees hold up under the rigors of walking long distances over difficult terrain? Can he accurately detect the oscillations of a compass needle? How about the inclinations, declinations, and other “-ations” he is charged with recording? Can he take proper readings from a barometer? And most important: Which of the two barometers in his possession works better?
    The matter of the barometers is not simply an academic question for Lamanon. His future reputation may stand or fall by his barometrical work on the expedition. Over the years, a number of scientists, including Newton and Laplace, have hypothesized the existence of atmospheric or barometric “tides” that respond to the same gravitational forces that create our oceanic tides. The academy has asked Lamanon to help settle this question by noting variations in barometric pressure over the course of twenty-four-hour periods. This work is best done at the equator, where the amplitude of any such variations, should they exist, is believed to be greatest. At Tenerife, the expedition is still twenty-eight degrees north of and a one-month sail from the equator. But Lamanon does not want to fail in the execution of his duties for lack of practice, and during the climb to the peak, he consulted his barometers as often as possible.
    Nor does he wish to fail for having used the wrong barometer. He has two and has been taking readings from them every day since leaving Brest. To his great frustration, there is no agreement between them, ever, when they are at sea. An unhappy suspicion has formed in his mind that the English barometer is superior to the French one. The English instrument was purchased in London by the expedition’s chief engineer, Paul de Monneron, a man more comfortable with objects than ideas, but competent enough for all that. The French barometer was made by Fortin and procured for the expedition by Monsieur de Lavoisier, the famous chemist. Lamanon knows he should rely on whichever barometer works best at sea, for it is extremely unlikely that they will be anywhere near land when they cross the line. He knows that the English barometer, made by Nairne, is similar to one used by Captain Cook, and that if it served Cook, it ought to serve him. But he has a prejudice in favor of Lavoisier’s barometer, a prejudice that is entirely romantic.
    He had gone in person to Lavoisier’s residence to pick up the barometer. It was early May, about three months before the expedition left, and raining very hard. Lavoisier was not at home, but Madame de