Tesla's Signal (17 page)

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Authors: L. Woodswalker

BOOK: Tesla's Signal
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“You think I'm attractive?” Shelia leaned close, until her bright crimson lips hovered only an inch from his, and slid her hand under his robe.

Unwanted desire seized him and he shut his eyes, trying to suppress it.
Try multiplying by threes, that always works. Can't do it...brain not functioning...
 

“Oh, Nicky, you're so handsome,” Shelia whispered, while her hands traced velvety lines down his bare midriff. “You want me? Join with us, and I'll be yours...all yours. You and me could rule the world together. Just picture it, Nicky.”

He closed his eyes and let the dream come to him: King of Earth, he rode the heavens in a glowing ship, with the lovely Chosen Vessel in his arms. He had suppressed his physical urges for so long. He was so tired of fighting, struggling against himself. Why not surrender...let her possess him...take all that she offered? “S...sure,” he murmured. “Whatever you say, dear.”

“Ahhhh....that's a good boy,” she murmured, devouring his lips with an intense kiss. “Ahhh, yes...make love to me, my handsome prince...”

Her kiss brought back a sudden memory of the last time a woman's lips had touched his...and breathed life into him. This other woman... well, she dressed like a boy, and didn't flaunt her feminine charms like the Chosen Vessel did, but...her mind shone out from her earnest dark eyes like a brilliant jewel. And that ignited something in Niko, something far deeper than mere biological attraction.

What would Clara think if she could see him now—giving in to his urges, letting this hussy seduce him into the service of alien masters?

“Wait just a second. I'm sorry, Miss Shelia.” He pushed her hand aside. “I'm not really feeling up to it tonight.”


What?”
Her hand stopped at his neck and he felt the edge of her sharp fingernails. “What the hell's the matter with you?” Her painted features, which had seemed so lovely, morphed into a mask of fury. “You think you're too good for me? Ah, I know...you got someone else. Girlfriend? Wife? Come on, Nicky, who is it?”

“No. I don't have a wife.”

“You're lyin', mister.” She stood up, hands on her hips, regarding him with narrowed eyes. “I can see it in your eyes—you're sweet on someone. Well you listen here—if you don't want money or fame, how about this deal. We'll bring your little sweetie pie up here to the ship. You two lovebirds can be together and we'll protect her...make sure she doesn't get hurt.”

“What?” Niko rose to his feet, knowing blackmail when he heard it. “How dare you threaten—” he broke off, realizing he had just betrayed himself.

Shelia laughed uproariously. “We'll find her, Nicky. We've got lots of agents below. If you love her, you'll join with us. For her sake.”

His eyes slid toward a door at the far end of the chamber. “You and your Angel Masters can go to the devil,” he cried, and made a dash for freedom.

Shelia ran to intercept him, and he lashed out with a foot, tripping her. But when he reached the door, he found that it had no handle, nothing he could grab...

He hadn't been thinking straight. Not at all. Of course there wouldn't be a way out.
Should have said yes...pretended to go along...
 

Shelia grabbed him by the shoulders. “You jackass! Think you can say 'no' to the Holy Angels? Well, you'll be sorry. They can punish as well as reward.” She thrust a sharp object against his neck, piercing his skin.

“What...” he fell to the floor as the chemical paralyzed his body, mind and will. Through his haze he heard Shelia speaking into a communication device.

“Nick's been a bad boy. Guess he'll need to be taught a lesson. Come get him, Masters, he's all yours.”

***

Clara waited, biting her nails and watching the sky. Would Niko and the Martians return soon...would they make a triumphal announcement?
Life on other worlds revealed! Martians extend greetings, request conference with world leaders
. People would stop poking fun at Niko. He had been right!

But what was taking them so long? The longer Niko remained absent, the more uneasy she felt. Two...three...four days. Her imagination began to suggest other possibilities.

She replayed the scene in her head. The ship had come, and she had shared Niko's excitement. But something about the Martians' behavior bothered her. They did not exchange polite greetings, like representatives of cultures at a first meeting. They simply seized him, like a gold coin they found in the street.

It was like the difference between being invited into someone's home... and being kidnapped.

Niko believed that extraterrestrial visitors would be wise and benevolent. Clara wasn't so trusting. She had seen violence and slaughter at a young age.

Her unease grew as the time passed. Suppose Niko was sick...what if he needed her? Worse possibilities presented themselves. What if the Martians had done him harm? And what if...

She paced, her belly churning with dread. Memories filtered up from their hidden places.
The pogrom
. After the mob had done with their slaughter, they laid in wait for the survivors. Suppose the Martians were waiting to grab her too? In sudden panic, she raced to the far end of the Tower grounds, until she reached a manhole cover concealed in a stand of tall weeds and grasses.

Niko had said that the Tower system extended as deeply underground as it did vertically: he meant to tap the Earth resonance with an extensive network of subterranean receivers. But more important right now...the underground passages afforded a hiding place.

She took out a Hamilton watch case that contained a tiny camera and transmitter. Now she attached it to one of the legs of the mighty Tower, and climbed down into the passage. There she took out the companion watch, which would receive the signal. And then she waited.

You're being silly,
she told herself. A hundred times she almost came out of her hiding place.
Stop letting old memories get the best of you. Come on, there's work to do.
 

But every time she almost came out, something held her back.

While time passed, she fell into the realm of the Wisdom: her place of serenity in times of stress. She visualized chemical formulas, the numbers and letters transforming into materials, textures and sensations. She watched the ways that the materials interacted: this metal, when combined with a trace of this element, caused the electrons to align in
this
configuration...or why not try
this
way...

Several days after the Martians had come, a small ship returned. Her camera gave her an image of several tall, spindly figures emerging. They descended to earth on their anti-grav platform and walked about, inspecting the Tower and the grounds intently.

Clara held her breath, remembering when she and her uncle had hidden from the Cossacks and listened to them prowling around upstairs in her father's store.

Vasili, I think there's a couple of
Zhidy
hiding down there!
 

Never mind for now, Pavel, first I want to get me some of this loot. Lookit all these watches—must be worth thousands!

Similarly, the Martians also seemed interested in booty: from what Clara could tell, they had broken into the laboratory and were now carting out equipment.

A short while later, another figure emerged from the ship. Clara couldn't see the details from her tiny camera transmitter, but the figure looked smaller, and spoke with the voice of a human woman. “Hey! Yoo-hoo, is anyone there? I've got a message from Nick Tesla. He wants you to come with us. Wants to show you the space ship!”

Clara bit down on a fingernail. If the Martians had good intentions, why hadn't they brought Niko down to talk to her himself?

The woman stalked around for awhile, her high heels clicking on the brick walkway, as the Martians removed more of Niko's equipment. “Hey, is anyone here?” Her voice and phrasing had a coarseness, like some cheap saloon hussy. “C'mon, Nicky needs you. He's hurt—he's callin' for ya!”

Clara had heard cruel, teasing voices like this before: “
Come out,
Zhidy!
We've got your baby here!”
 

A tear rolled down her cheeks. There was no doubt about it: these Martians were up to no good.

They are Space Cossacks.

9: The Orb

 

 

Niko woke in a tiny cell, barely large enough for a dog. It was dark, except for a pearly panel, similar to the one in Shelia's suite. He tried to figure out a course of action, but his thoughts quickly leached away. He lost track of how long he lay staring at the silvery light that bored right into his brain...filling him with an intense bliss that dissolved all thought, all will to resist.

He wanted to fight...but he wanted it to never stop.

They put him on a table and affixed instruments to his head; pushed needles and sharp probes into his body. He did not resist any of their ministrations. The armband pumped out its load of blissful, passive obedience...making him believe whatever the U'jaan said...do whatever they told him.

At the same time, the scientist in him observed the process.

One of the Martians—the one who wore a camera attachment—addressed him. “Creature Tes'laa, I am K'ru V'kaan of the guild of Xeno-Mentalists—all of us daughters of the Holy Queen Mother.”

The female named V'kaan grasped his head between her sharp-clawed hands. “Listen to me, Earthman.” She bent and fixed him with her huge bulbous eyes. “You have disappointed us greatly. We would have treated you with high honor, had you seen reason and worked with us voluntarily. But since you have foolishly spurned our generous offers, you must now be conditioned to ensure your obedience.”

He tried to look away from those eyes, but found he could not.

“We of the Xeno-Mentalists can twist any creature into a useful resource,” V'kaan told him. “We can tune your mind in whatever way we wish. It is our choice whether to allow you a fragment of individual will...or reduce you to a mere object under our complete control. Do not try to deceive or outwit us, Earth creature. We can detect every disobedient impulse. We can give you agonizing punishment as well as heavenly reward. Do you understand?”

Niko stared at the alien. “Yes sir...ma'am.” A thin stream of terror welled up: he had fallen into the hands of a race who could manipulate minds as he manipulated his electric currents. Another part of him merely lay back and submitted to the pleasant bliss that their devices pumped into him.  

They brought him back to the Technology Cache with its mysterious devices, and Z'duun addressed him. “K'va Tes'laa, today you will study these devices and learn what advantage we can gain from them. Repeat!”

“I will study these devices,” Niko mumbled, staring at the mysterious machines. He felt like a piece of dirt in the presence of gods. Yes, that's what the U'jaan were—
gods!
 

“You will use your scientific abilities for the benefit of the noble U'jaan Sky Voyagers. Is that understood?”  

Z'duun held up a glowing wand and Niko's eyes followed it. “Yes sir.”

“As one of our servants, you must obey every command with complete obedience. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Niko said, watching the wand, tensing with apprehension.

Z'duun opened a casing and exposed an unfamiliar apparatus. “This device is part of a powerful weapon to be used against your species. You are to repair this, increase its range and oversee the construction of many duplicates.”

“Used
against
our species? But... I thought you had come to
help


 

The wand touched him with fiery agony. He doubled over, gasping, consumed with soul-crushing terror. He tried to stay above it by analyzing the phenomenon
. What kind of current...? Not electricity...how does it work?
 

“Listen to me, Earthman!” Z'duun's words penetrated through the haze of pain. “You will obey our every order—instantly, joyfully and without question! You are to address us as 'Master'. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes...Master.” Niko curled up into a ball, shaking all over.

“Good. Prove your obedience. Do as I have ordered!”

“But Master, I need time to study—”

The punishment came again, much more intense than before.

V'kaan stepped up, brandishing another wand in Niko's face. “Attention, Earth Creature: your mind, body and soul belong to us. You will not have one thought or feeling, or take a single breath, without permission of the noble U'jaan, who are known to your species as
Angel Lords.”  
The alien loomed over him, her shoulder winglets flared out. “If we tell you to step out of the airlock and perish in vacuum, you will obey immediately! If we tell you to press a button and destroy every human on Earth, you will obey instantly and with joyful worship. Is that understood?” 

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