1889: Journey To The Moon (The Far Journey Chronicles) (2 page)

World famous Nikola Tesla has filed for injunctive relief in the Superior Court of the Borough of Manhattan citing Dr. Judah Merkam with infringement of his patent for a very high frequency electromagnetic field.

Dr. Merkam, the reader may recall, was ostracized by the scientific and academic community for his insistence on unconventional research methods and for placing himself and others at risk.

While at this stage it is nothing more than unsubstantiated rumor, by all creditable reports Dr. Merkam has contacted individuals in divers fields about an upcoming announcement.

Are we to see another “Magnificent Engine” emerge from the cloistered Merkam workshop in Colorado Springs similar to that great failure in Illinois? While the patent infringement alleged by Dr. Tesla refers to the production of electrical energies, to what uses could such very high frequencies be put? This reporter should like to be on the edge of the crowd when Judah Merkam makes his next public appearance. The far edge.

Letter to Koper Ghandi from John Koothrappally:

March 21, 1889

Koper Ghandi

c/o The Christian School

12 Kindalia Roadway

Zone 14

Dehli, India

Nephew,

I am being sending you a letter in the language English. Very nearly I becoming the expert!

Inform your brother Mohan that his Uncle states he must begin the ceasement of his argument with the crown of the people British. That is all I shall be being of the subject saying.

It is not being of the acceptable that I to inform you of the adventure to be embarkating upon am I. Only that as a graduate of the accepted schools mathematic have I been fortuned to commence to the strange land--no, telling you
where
is not of the answer to so state!

I am being knowing that this great letter shall arrive in three months of the time of the sending by ship unto my home, and yours. Therefore, attend to look out your window on the night upon which you will be most happy to have this paper in your hand the first time. Look to the brightness in the sky and say a prayer of the Christian for your Uncle John, who is esteemed among great men.

Your excellent Uncle,

John Koothrappally

Letter from Judah Merkam to Dr. Jonathan Conklin:

September 1, 1889

Dr. Jonathan Conklin

C/o St. James Hospital

Whitechapel

London, England

Dear Dr. Conklin,

Your expertise in the fields of anatomy and surgery are required for the success of an expedition to the Moon. I would appeal to your sense of propriety as a scientist and as a physician not to divulge the details of, and even my request for, your participation in this expedition, regardless of whether you should accede or demur. With regard to your stated fields of research, it has come to my attention that the lunar surface is inhabited, and these “peoples” do not appear to be...human. Therefore, a doctor is essential to the success of the voyage. These aliens must somehow fit somewhere within the purview of the body sciences.

Please come to Colorado Springs, USA, and present yourself at the front gate at Merkam House, 1 Ute Avenue. We shall depart on schedule on December 15, 1889.

Respectfully,

Your esteemed colleague

Judah Merkam

Letter from Billy Gostman to Pat Garrett:

December 1, 1889

Pat Garret

c/o Sheriff’s Office

Lincoln County

New Mexico Territory

Dear Mr. Garrett,

This new typewriter invention is something else. It will probably take me an hour or more to write out what I could have told you in a minute.

Per our arrangement, I was supposed to let you know if and when I might depart the country. Also, I was supposed to drop you a letter once a year to let you know how I was getting on. I apologize for the last two years, but as you said I have been trying to re-invent myself. Not sure what that means, but I’m learning. Figured I’d be dead long before now, and probably would have been if you hadn’t changed your mind when you got the drop on me.

Anyway, this is to let you know that I am leaving the country. I guess you can say that I’m leaving
all
of the countries. Don’t know if and when I’ll make it back. If you don’t hear from me by, say, Christmas, you’ll know I’m dead anyways.

I haven’t killed anyone since I last saw you. That’s about eight years. See, I do keep the important promises.

Your friend,

             
Billy

[ 1 ]

Billy Gostman climbed the last few feet to the top of the rock and sat himself to gaze out over the city as the last light faded from the sky. The shadow of Pike’s Peak here from the Garden of the Gods hid him in effective absolute darkness. He extracted the field glass from his jacket pocket and aimed it at the lights of the town below.

Billy was twenty-nine years old, and beginning to feel his age. He’d been out of shape for the climb up the rocks, but he had to see Merkam’s secret. It had taken him days to figure out how he was going to see inside the thirty-foot walls around the two-block compound, and had struck upon a view from the heights west of town as the only possible solution.

While the town itself was lit with dim gaslights, the Merkam compound shone brightly—the new-fangled electric lights cast a pillar of illumination into the otherwise darkening Colorado night sky.

“Got you!” he whispered to himself.“Jumping Gilas. That thing is huge.”

A broad, silvery cone poked a needle-like spire above the surrounding rooftops. That’s all anyone else could see from anywhere in the town or within a mile or more outside it: the needle. The whole town wondered what it might mean.

The rumor running around the saloons and markets and even the churches was that Merkam was going to blow them all to Kingdom Come with his invention. He’d destroy the whole town and everyone in it. But the other rumor, the one that few but himself had heard, was that Merkam had constructed a vessel that would not only fly, but that would fly to the moon and back again. It was such an incredible whopper that Billy believed it. It was always the biggest lies that seemed to have the most truth in them.

“I’m hitchin’ a ride with you, Dr. Judah Merkam. The Kid is going to fly.”

He could see far more of the immense ship at this height, although it was indistinct. Beside it, a zeppelin unloaded its wares.  The black figures of the stevedores moved crates by chain and rope from the blimp to the ground, where they were lifted by winch into the yawning side door of Merkam’s ship.

He caught a new sliver of light in the darkness of the door. Billy moved the glass to it and saw a figure inside, holding what appeared at this distance to be a blade of focused light. Nothing like the gas street lights or miners lamps with their diffuse rays, but one so bright and clean-lined it almost seemed solid. It wasn’t, because the light didn’t have a finite end. As long as something didn’t block it, the beam continued, never widening, just continuing. Billy’s heart thumped once when the light wobbled above the walls and, even at so great a distance, lit his position brightly enough that he cast a shadow on the rocks behind him. It stayed only a second, then continued its drunken, weaving path down the mountain and once more became secure inside the enclosure.

Billy watched it until the light blinked off. At the last instant of visibility, the beam lit the figure holding it. Billy’s eyes widened, “Huh.” It was a woman. A beautiful woman. He smiled and collapsed the tube of the small brass monoscope and put it in his coat pocket.

Billy had always had a way with the ladies. When he slipped into Colorado as an undersized youth on the run, it had been the good will and affection of women that bolstered him, kept him alive. Over the years his luck improved in the class of women who wanted to take care of him, and in 1885, when John Jacob Astor’s favorite illegitimate daughter, Cynna, put her head on his shoulder, everything changed for the better. She pampered him, clothed him, and taught him proper etiquette. Her mansion had a library of five thousand books and Billy practically lived in the room. With Cynna’s personal chef preparing meals and treats six times a day, Billy’s stature also increased. He grew three inches in height, bringing him from short to average, and his musculature improved so that the emaciated look was no more.