Authors: L. Woodswalker
Tesla's Signal (23 page)
Voices intruded on her. “Miss Kara,” said Lily Palmer, “that was a spectacular performance.”
A group of laughing, chattering society beauties surrounded her. “Your music is just divine,” said a woman in a mink stole. “You must be a messenger of the Angels.”
“Oh, come now.” Clara's alarms were prickling. She had heard Niko mutter the word
'angels'
in his delirium.
One of the women, who wore a gigantic stuffed parrot on her hat, focused on Clara with sudden interest. “Oh, yes. Have you been blessed by the Angels? You know—the Silver Chamber. Surely you've gone?”
“Yes, everyone who's
anyone
goes,” said the mink stole woman.
“Sorry, ladies, I'm not just anyone.” Clara noticed an odd, silvery sheen in the women's eyes. “Now if you'll excuse me—”
Parrot Hat put a familiar hand on Clara's arm. “Why, I've heard even
J. P. Morgan goes! You simply must, dear. We're dragging you there, aren't we, girls?”
Clara looked for a graceful exit, but could find none. “What's so wonderful about this Silver Chamber?”
“Oh, we're not allowed to tell,” said Mink Stole. “It's a spiritual awakening, that's all. Such bliss...better than being with a man,” she confided.
“Yes,” said Parrot Hat. “Way better than liquor and hashish. There's a session happening right now, at the Rialto. Want to come?” Parrot Hat grabbed Clara's wrist.
“Sorry, ladies, I'm currently low on funds.” Clara pulled her hand away.
“Ah, that's no excuse; it's free! Come on, we're dragging you!” Laughing gaily, two of them grabbed Clara by the arms.
“Uh, ladies! Please!” With difficulty, Clara extricated her arms. “I'm
indisposed
today. Monthly ailments, you know.” That sounded like a good safe excuse. “I promise I'll go next week.”
“All right. We'll be waiting,” Parrot Hat called out. “It's the most wonderful feeling in your life. Once you go, you'll never be the same.”
Clara grabbed her bowl of contributions and got out of there as quickly as possible. What on Earth were those silly girls talking about, she wondered. Whatever it was, she wanted to run in the opposite direction.
Once you go, you'll never be the same
. Something about it was making her skin crawl. Their blissful expressions, like opium addicts...that odd sheen in their eyes.
She went back to Essex Street, hoping Niko might be there. He wasn't, but...well, he was probably back at the station, working on a device.
Give him time.
She checked one of her watches. It told her that Niko was somewhere near Sixth Avenue.
All right, at least he's alive. Leave him alone,
she told herself.
Men don't like it when you chase them.
She had already agreed to a second performance. The next day when she arrived, she carefully scanned the room for those Silver Chamber girls.
If they're here, I'm getting the hell out,
she decided. She didn't see them, but today she could tell something was wrong. The wealthy, overdressed crowd didn't seem in a party mood. She heard a buzz of disturbed conversation and saw some anxious expressions.
“What's wrong?” she asked a big-bellied gentleman. “Did someone die?”
“There've been some accidents. There was a big fire on Seventh Avenue. Didn't you hear?”
“Yes,” his wife put in, “and then there was an earthquake in Battery Park. A couple of people were buried alive!”
What? An earthquake?
Clara's skin prickled.
S
he thought about Niko's old Fulton Street lab, and a short power interruption the next day.
It wouldn't be him...would it?
“There was a big explosion yesterday at the American Steelworks,” Lily Palmer put in. “That's going to devalue my stocks considerably.”
“The whole world's going to hell,” a cigar-smoking gentleman said.
“I wonder if it's anarchists,” said a fellow in a top hat.
“I'll tell you who's behind it,” said Cigar Smoke. “It's that madman Nikola Tesla.”
Clara put a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.
“It says so right here.” Cigar Smoke brandished a newspaper. The headline read
Tesla Responsible for Earthquakes, Explosions?
Clara read the paper and realized there was no way she could relax enough to play music. She took Lily aside. “Excuse me Miss Lily, I'm going to have to cancel my performance. I'm getting the worst stomach upset. It must be the shrimp.”
***
The World of Lumina
The gathering of the Seekers unfolded over several micro-turns. Their shapes expressed concern.
At this news, the Colleagues sparkled with interest.
>
But Alu interrupted them in solemn triangle form. <
Colleagues, this is more than a fascinating study subject. I believe that these two beings, and their whole world, are in trouble. I believe I have detected the presence of the Despoiler Host!>
At these words, the Colleagues darkened to the color of soot.
Alu did not reply, but merely retained a vigilant posture.
A rank of triangles aligned.
do? We have little influence with the dense matter realm ...>
Alu gained height, expressing determination. <
For now, I have been monitoring through a
syma
form.>
Ayin moved up close. <
We'll help
.
Do you need extra energy?>
Others came up with new suggestions. <
Try to teach our friends. Share knowledge of frequency, communication...>
<...continue our research on expanding the Gate.>
but we cannot not abandon those who have touched our minds. We are soul-bound to them.>
The Seekers began to morph into the shape of tall, resolute flames.
13: The Engineers' Club
“Nick! It's good to see you,” said Hugo Gernsback.
“Good day, Hugo.” Niko felt like hell, but he forced himself to observe the social niceties. He tipped his hat, and nodded at Mrs. Gernsback. “Ma'am. I trust you are both well?”
“Oh, we're fine,” said Hugo, but his face showed a nervous tic.
Hugo Gernsback had the owlish eyes of a compulsive reader, and the rounded posture of a man who spent his time tinkering with wireless equipment. “Excuse the mess. I'm starting a new magazine:
Fantastic Adventures
.
”
Hugo guided him through a narrow hallway between stacks of magazines, piles of books, and a clutter of electrical components. In the living room, Niko dodged around a half-completed amplifier and a rollback desk, which contained a typewriter and a pile of manuscripts.
“Have a seat.” Hugo cleared a space on the single overstuffed chair. “You look like the devil, if you don't mind my saying. Uh, why don't I get you some brandy.”
Niko noted the way Hugo looked at him, as if he were afraid. “Thank you, Hugo, I could use it.” Niko accepted the glass, and began calculating its volume, while Hugo sat down and jiggled his foot with impatience.
“So, Nick,” Hugo finally broke the silence. “You said it was urgent. What brings you here today?”
Niko looked up from the glass. How to begin? “Hugo, I need your help. Something terrible has happened.”
“Yes, I'll say it has. It seems you've made the headlines. What the hell's going on?” Hugo demanded, thrusting a copy of the Times at him.
“What?” Niko snatched the paper.
Inventor Nikola Tesla Suspected of Involvement in Recent Disasters.
“What in God's name...?”
Bridge Collapse Causes Chaos! Swift Flying Machine of Unknown Type Destroys Pylon of Washington Bridge. Hundreds Injured
.
A chill swept him as he scanned the descriptions of the disasters
. The top of the Broadway Tower. The US Steel plant in Buffalo. A rail yard in Philadelphia.
The next article went on in greater detail about the recent happenings.
Strange Craft Terrorizes Citizens. Spectators in several locations have reported seeing a glowing disc, which emitted a piercing ray that shattered all that it touched.
Niko dropped the paper in his lap. “Dear Lord! It's
Them!”
“Who is it, Nick?”
“It...it has to be them. I wouldn't destroy bridges—well, there
was
a little disturbance at my lab...” he cringed, remembering. “I wasn't in my right mind. I was terrified that
They
were going to get their hands on my devices!”
“What the devil are you talking about?”
He noticed the brandy in the glass was shaking...no, that was his hand trembling. “Hugo, it is like something out of your fantastic magazine articles. Your tales of Martian invasion...planetary war. It has all come true!”
Hugo's eyes widened. “How about starting at the beginning, buddy.”
Niko forced himself to take a deep breath. “Remember the story around five years ago, how I had received a communication from Mars?” He pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to get his emotions under control. “A few weeks ago I...I went to the Wardenclyffe Tower and returned the Martians' signal.”
“No kidding.” Hugo poured another round of brandy. “What
happened?”
“The Martians came and took me.”
Hugo blinked. “Hell's bells. You sure you haven't been reading too many—”
“No!” Nick slammed his palm on the table. “It really happened, Hugo, I swear on my mother's grave! I dreamed of interplanetary friendship...a sharing of knowledge and understanding. I was so mistaken...so naïve!” He stood up and began to pace. “I remember a ship...a glowing disc, like the one in the news story. They took me, and...I can't remember the details, but they did something to my brain.” He clutched his head. “They tried to control my mind. I can feel it!”
Hugo played with a pencil. “So, you think the Martians are responsible for all of these disasters?”
“It looks that way. The ships...they are the same. Hugo, the Martians are here and I believe that they are up to no good.”
Hugo spread his hands. “Nick, if this were anyone else, I'd say they were nutso, daft, round the bend. But
you
, Nick...people think you're a dreamer, and then it turns out you're right.” He stood up and put a hand on Niko's shoulder. “Look. There's a meeting of the Engineers' Club tomorrow. Why don't you stay here tonight and eat some of Rose's delicious stew. Tomorrow we'll go to the meeting and you can tell them what you've told me.”
Niko scowled. Nobody was ever going to believe him. Nevertheless—he had to to deliver the warning. “Thank you, Hugo—Mrs. Gernsback. I could use a bowl of stew.”
***
The next day they took the Sixth Avenue Elevated Train, which rattled along above the streets of New York. Niko kept his mind busy counting the fence posts as they passed, and he had just started to feel relaxed when a flash of light startled him.
A woman screamed as the train gave a sudden lurch. It tipped at an angle, throwing Hugo on top of Niko. More passengers screamed and cried out. “Help! We're going to die!”
“Nick! Are you hurt?”
Niko coughed and tried to extricate himself.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the conductor bawled out. “Please keep your seats and wait. Police are on their way.”
“Mama, I saw a glowing thing in the sky,” a boy said. “It fired some kind of ray at the track!”