Joseph knew Coulomb was quite skeptical of his claim to have independently developed descriptive geometry. Perhaps Monge, the true founder of descriptive geometry, was less doubtful because he had been a child prodigy himself, and so was more willing to believe that another prodigy could have developed a similar technique at the same age he had.
Joseph had indeed studied descriptive geometry in his previous life. He was sure that after several centuries of development, it had advanced far beyond what it was at the time. However, he had no idea how far Monge's original version had progressed. After thinking it over, Joseph decided that some of the techniques for projective transformations had probably been developed later. He carefully recalled them, added some of those ideas, and went on to explain them in detail.
The Duke of Orleans listened with interest. When Joseph had finished explaining one part and paused, the duke finally asked Monge, "Mr. Monge, how does Joseph's method compare with yours?"
"Broadly speaking, they're quite similar," Monge replied. After speaking, he looked around at everyone and suddenly realized his words might imply that Joseph hadn't developed descriptive geometry himself. He hurriedly added, "Still, there are some differences. For example, the projective transformations he uses to handle maps are very interesting; I hadn't thought of them before. The maps drawn this way will be more useful. Mr. Bonaparte's method is basically the same as mine in principle, but it's even more practical. Mr. Bonaparte, you truly are a mathematical genius!"
Monge's descriptive geometry had always been a closely guarded secret, so even the others present had never been exposed to much of it. Now that they had heard Monge say as much, they naturally set aside their doubts.
"Joseph, I never expected you to be a mathematical genius. Hmm, I think I heard last time that you're still in secondary school? At..." Duke Charles suddenly couldn't remember which school it was.
"Lycée Louis-le-Grand, Your Highness. Joseph is classmates with my nephew Armand," Lavoisier added with a smile.
"Right, right. I saw him with Armand last time." Duke Charles gazed at Joseph admiringly. "It's France's good fortune that young people like this keep appearing. But it's terribly unfair that someone who has achieved so much should be denied the recognition he deserves and even have to live in poverty. I think we ought to compensate Joseph for that."
Condorcet nodded. "I think Joseph's paper is certainly worthy of discussion. It should win this competition and earn him the six-hundred-franc prize."
Since the Duke of Orleans had brought up compensation, even Coulomb and Monge did not object.
"That's far too little," Duke Charles said, still unsatisfied.
"Your Highness, there's no need to worry. A talent like this won't go unrecognized," Condorcet said. "Once the paper is published and the speed-of-light experiment is complete, I think Joseph could get a teaching position at the University of Paris, perhaps even a post here. Hmm, Joseph, I hear you'll be graduating soon. What do you think? Interested? I can write you a letter of recommendation."
Before Joseph could answer, Monge cut in. "Joseph has a great gift for descriptive geometry, but it's a confidential technique. If he goes to the University of Paris, he won't be able to study it freely. That would be a real shame. The Paris Military Academy is looking for someone to teach descriptive geometry, and they've asked me to recommend an expert. Why don't Mr. Laplace and I recommend him to teach mathematics at the Paris Military Academy instead? I think it would suit him better. I can also secure him a larger allowance, so he'd earn more than he would at the University of Paris. Joseph, what do you think?"
In terms of reputation alone, the University of Paris was certainly more prestigious. But when it came to income, Monge was right: teaching at the Paris Military Academy would pay more. Besides, Joseph knew the revolution was about to break out. In the upheaval, one faction would rise and another fall. Today, royalists might be hanging from lampposts; tomorrow, the revolutionaries would be on the guillotine. The University of Paris was a gathering place for all kinds of political factions, and if he went there, he might get swept into political struggles beyond his control for one reason or another. By comparison, the Paris Military Academy was much safer. And joining the military system would also help him make the necessary preparations for the future.
With that in mind, Joseph said to Monge, "Mr. Condorcet, thank you very much for the recommendation. But I think I'd prefer Mr. Monge's suggestion. My father just passed away, and I have several younger brothers still in school. I need money badly right now. Besides, my younger brother Napoleon is already at the Paris Military Academy. He's a troublemaker, so I think I could keep a better eye on him there."
Everyone burst out laughing. Duke Charles laughed as he said, "I think all older brothers believe their younger brothers are troublemakers. Hmm, I can imagine how it must feel for a younger brother to walk into class and discover that his teacher is his own older brother..."
"Let's get back to the speed-of-light experiment," Lavoisier said.
"Certainly, let's continue..."
Two days after the visit, a messenger delivered an official letter from the French Academy of Sciences. It informed Joseph that his paper had won the competition and the six-hundred-franc prize.
The prize money made Joseph's life considerably more comfortable. Two days later, he received a letter from Monge. In the thick envelope, Monge told Joseph that the Academy of Sciences had finished preparing the speed-of-light experiment. They planned to conduct it ten nights later, on a moonless night, at one of the Duke of Orleans's castles.
At the end of the letter, Monge told Joseph that he and Laplace had recommended him. Joseph would likely receive an official letter from the Paris Military Academy in a few days. Once he graduated, he could report for duty there.
Joseph was delighted when he got the letter. It was a shame Napoleon wasn't there so he could brag to him. Still, it would be even better if he could suddenly show up in Napoleon's classroom in uniform. Hmm, he could even call Napoleon up to the blackboard to solve a difficult problem. Just imagining it made him happy.
Besides that, now that he had some cash on hand, Joseph immediately thought of Master Lu's classic line from Water Margin: "My mouth's gone so bland, I could taste the bird droppings!" Joseph figured that if he went to a restaurant and spent two francs, he could enjoy a splendid feast, eating until grease ran down his chin. But Napoleon wasn't there, and Joseph couldn't bring himself to leave his younger brother behind and feast alone. So he had to keep holding out a little longer. Fortunately, the weekend was only a few days away. When it came, he could take Napoleon out for a feast.
The only problem was that there were several restaurants along Joseph's route to school. They weren't particularly fancy, and their prices weren't all that high—at least, not to Joseph, who now had several hundred francs in his pocket. In the past, as he walked by on his way to school, he would often catch the aroma of meat broth drifting out of them. Back then, he didn't have a single coin in his pocket, so the broth's smell wasn't all that tempting. At most, it made him swallow, hold his breath, and quicken his pace. But this time was different. Now that he had money and could actually afford a meal, the aroma of that broth became more and more irresistible. Joseph tried to walk faster, but the smells seemed to turn into elastic ropes, wrapping around him and tugging him backward. He struggled mightily before he finally broke free. By the time he reached school, he was late for class for the first time in his life. Fortunately, the teacher was so nearsighted he didn't notice Joseph, giving him the chance to slip quietly into the classroom.
At last, the weekend came. Usually, Napoleon walked to Joseph's place after class to save money. Given the distance, he should arrive at around five in the afternoon, just in time for a restaurant meal. Joseph had told Father Jean-Jacques early that evening that once Napoleon arrived, they'd all go out for a good meal. So today, even Father Jean-Jacques wouldn't have to gnaw on black bread.
But Napoleon didn't show up until nearly seven, ambling over at his leisure. By then, every restaurant on the street had closed—it wasn't an age with much nightlife, after all. Father Jean-Jacques had been too hungry to wait and had already eaten half a piece of leftover stale bread with some water.
"Why are you so late?" Joseph asked, struggling to keep his irritation in check.
"Someone treated me to a meal," Napoleon said.
"Damn it, you've already eaten?" Joseph, hungry himself, could barely contain his anger. "Wait... someone treated you? I thought you weren't very popular at school."
"I did his math homework for him," Napoleon said smugly.
"But I'm still hungry..." Joseph was so famished that he couldn't even bring himself to brag about his prize money to Napoleon.
"You were waiting for me so we could eat together?" Napoleon exclaimed. "It was only a couple of pieces of black bread. Was that really worth waiting for?"
"Fine. You're eating black bread tomorrow!" Joseph ground out.
Before you continue