Chronica (27 page)

He had not calmed down very much. Sierra reassured him, "We have good reason to believe no harm has come to Mr. Appleton, but we don't know where he is. We're hoping to be in touch with him soon."

"But his fragile health—" Geoffreys began.

"Someone we trust is with him," Max said. "In fact, we think he arranged to take Mr. Appleton downtown today."

"But—" Geoffreys began, again, then allowed himself to be at least a little reassured.

"What can you tell us about the burglary last night, if that's what it was?" Sierra asked.

"I don't know if it was a burglary," Geoffreys replied. "As far as I can see, nothing is missing."

Sierra wondered if Geoffreys knew about the
Chronica
. She thought he probably did, but also thought there was no point in telling him about it if he didn't already know.

"The police thought the same thing," Geoffreys continued. "Nothing was disturbed. There was not even so much as a desk drawer left open."

"Right, the police," Sierra said. "Did they leave you a card – contact information – in case you thought of something else or had a question?"

"Yes, yes," Geoffreys replied, and produced a card from his pocket. "I'm supposed to call if Mr. Appleton is not home by this evening, in any case."

Sierra took the card, looked at it, and gave it to Max. "Gordon Woodruff, Detective, New York police," was printed upon it, with a telephone number.

***

Sierra and Max took the train back down to Grand Central, even more worried than they had been on the way up.

"I'm concerned about leaving Geoffreys alone at Wave Hill, and William coming back to that. They would be easy prey for Woodruff and Heron," Sierra said.

"We'll just have to meet William before he gets back up there – the Millennium would be the safest place for everyone," Max said.

"Probably," Sierra said. "But Heron has access to the Millennium, too."

Max nodded. "That damned Woodruff. What can we do about it? We can't just report him to the New York police – they'd lock us up, way the hell ahead of him."

A well-dressed man sitting in the seat in front of them turned and glared at Max.

"Sorry," Max said. "I was just a little overwrought."

The man nodded and turned back in his seat.

"I know," Max mouthed to Sierra. "They don't appreciate that language back here."

"We don't know deep in this police department Heron's influence goes," Sierra said, quietly. "I think we should steer clear of them."

A conductor walked by and called out for their tickets, as if to underline the point that who knew where Heron's cadre ended, it could well include conductors on a train.

***

They met Astor and Tesla at the Millennium, and caught them up on events as they sat below the Raphael nude.

"These aren't the only comfortable seats in the club," Sierra remarked.

"No, but they afford the best view," Astor replied, with a smile, matched by Max and Tesla.

"If I am understanding you correctly," Tesla said to Sierra and Max, "you have no means of knowing where – to what time – Appleton and Charles took the Chairs."

Sierra nodded. "Unfortunately, right."

"Then what choice do we have but to wait here – at least one of us – until Appleton and Charles return and tell us where they have been?" Tesla continued.

"We could still take you to the future, as we were discussing," Astor said.

"We have no Chairs anyway," Sierra said, "at least as of a few hours ago. So the point is moot."

"No doubt that the ideal way of doing this is we wait until Appleton and Charles come back here," Astor said, "then find out what they know, perhaps get the
Chronica
from Appleton – or find out where it is – and have two Chairs to travel to the future with, to boot."

Max had been thinking that would indeed be ideal, until Astor's last point, which made him less than happy, since he was sure Sierra and Tesla would be the ones to take the two Chairs.
 

"But the problem is we could wait here forever until Appleton and Charles return," Astor delivered the punch line. "We have no way of knowing when – or even if – they will return."

"Or if they will return to this time," Sierra said, "but yes."

"Why would they not return to this time?" Tesla asked.

"Afraid of Heron, something we know nothing about in some other time that they think requires their presence – who knows?" Max said and stood. "We might as well go upstairs and see if there any Chairs there now."

He turned and saw a familiar figure walking towards them. "Cyril Charles!"

***

All four stood, then quickly sat with Charles under the nude.

"Where's William?" Sierra asked. "Is he all right?"

"Yes," Charles replied. "He is just resting – this was a lot of travel for one day."

Sierra stood again. "Here now in the Club – where?"

"No, in 2096," Charles replied. "Not in the Millennium or any club."

"In a hospital, receiving medical treatment?" Max asked.

Charles shook his head no, again. "Not in any hospital. This trip was not about seeing doctors."

Sierra was still standing. "I'm going to take that Chair and go see him right now."

All four men offered objections.

Tesla's was the calmest. "It may not be wise for just one person to travel – given the threat from Heron."

"So we're back to waiting for Chairs to arrive, then?" Sierra said.

Max stood and took her hand. "You're more crucial to all of this than I am. Let me go – I promise I'll come back to you."

"You can't promise that," Sierra said.

"The same is true for you," Max replied.

"Was there any sign of Heron in the future?" Astor asked Charles.

"Nothing of him personally," Charles replied. "But the charming young woman who was in charge told us that she was seeing the ill-effects of his work – Chairs not working the way they're supposed to, and so forth."

Sierra thought about Max's unaccountably arriving a little late, when their Chairs were supposed to be in sync, the last time they had used them.

"She reminded me a little of you," Charles said to Sierra, with a kindly smile.

"Tell us more about her," Sierra said.

"There is not much more to tell," Charles replied. "She did not volunteer much information, and we did not ask. She said you would know who she was – I believe she said you were responsible for her being."

"A descendant!" Astor said.

"An android, more likely," Max said. "You know, like 'Moxon's Moron'? Are you familiar with that story?"
 

"'Moxon's
Master
' by Ambrose Bierce? Of course!" Astor said.

"An android likely just like her, who made herself look like Hypatia, whom I was looking like and pretending to be, died in my and Hypatia's stead in ancient Alexandria," Sierra said, gravely.

"The real Hypatia having died of natural causes, long before," Max said, "just to keep the true historical record accurate."

"You mean, true in terms of what you know really happened," Astor said, impressed, "in contrast to what our history books otherwise tell us."

"This is
fascinating
!" Tesla said, bursting with enthusiasm despite what Sierra had just said. "This is more than time travel as a fiction – you have actually been living it, and rearranging history! I knew that, of course, but to hear you talk like this . . . "

Astor nodded agreement. "This woman in the future, then, was an automaton, who looked like a human being?"

"Yes," Sierra said.

"That in itself is nearly as incredible as time travel!" Astor said. "But may I ask," he said to Charles, "if you know the answer and are able to tell us, what was the purpose of Mr. Appleton's trip to the future, if not to see to his health?"

"To find the
Chronica
," Charles replied.

Sierra had been standing throughout the conversation. "Let's see if any more Chairs have returned."

***

The five went up the spiral staircase to the room with the Chairs.

Charles opened the door, went in first, and called to the others who were coming through the door. "Just one Chair."

Max looked at Sierra. "We should wait for at least one other Chair – it doesn't matter how long we have to wait here, if we can arrive in the future at the same time as Mr. Charles arrived with Appleton," he gestured to Charles.

"True," Sierra said, "but sitting around and waiting was never my strong suit."

"Let me take the Chair!" Tesla spoke up. "If the
Chronica
's in the future – in the time Charles and Appleton arrived – I'm the only who can use that knowledge then to construct another Chair. That is what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes," Sierra began, "but—"

Charles pointed to the flickering light. "Another Chair is arriving. We need to step outside."

The other four followed Charles out the door, which Charles quickly closed.

"Did you find the
Chronica
in the future?" Max asked Charles.

"Not exactly," Charles replied.

There was a familiar whirring sound from within the room – the kind that occurred when Chairs were in motion. The whirring stopped.

"Can you tell how many Chairs just arrived?" Tesla asked Charles.

"No," Charles replied. "The room, however, cannot accommodate more than four at the same time."

"Who do you think it is?" Astor asked.

"Best case, Appleton; worst case, Heron," Max replied.

"If it is Heron, would we not be safer if we waited downstairs and perhaps called the police?" Astor asked.

"I vote we stay right here," Max said, touching the knife in his pocket, standing at the side of the door, ready to stab the first person in the neck who came through if it was Heron.

Astor guessed what Max was thinking. "What kind of weapons could Heron – or anyone – bring back from the future?" Astor asked.

"Nothing that uses digital guidance – electricity," Sierra said. "But knives and early combustion guns would make the leap through time just fine."

Max tightened his grip on the handle of his knife.

Tesla started to speak, but there was no time for a vote or any further discussion.

The door opened.
 

Nikola Tesla, looking at least 20 years older than he did right now, stepped out to greet them.

***

Sierra's mind sped in a dozen directions, most thinking one variant or another of this was the first time she had seen this, in her life or anyone else's, in all her years of time travel, and the reason she had not seen it in hers was because she always took such care to avoid it.

Max's hand was still on the hilt of his knife. He moved closer to the older Tesla. "You could be Heron," he said softly, in almost a hiss. "Prove to us you're not."

The older Tesla looked at his younger self, and then at Max. "When I was 12 years old, a friend of my older sister Angelina stayed with our family for a few days. One early morning, I saw her step out of the bath. I had never seen such beauty before. It was thrilling to me, arousing, in a way I had never experienced before. I still think about her shimmering skin sometimes, late at night."

The younger Tesla wasn't quite blushing, but looked embarrassed. "I have never told a soul about that, and doubt I ever will."

"Until now," the older Tesla said and smiled.

Max relaxed his grip on his knife.

"So you knew we would be having this meeting," Sierra said to the older Tesla, "with us and your younger self, for all the years beginning with now."

"Yes," the older Tesla replied, "but not until now. I have that memory now, of this meeting taking place 22 years earlier in my life, but I know I did not have that memory before."

"Just as Sierra and I discovered with some political developments in the future," Max said, warming up to the conversation now that his concern that the older Tesla might have been Heron was allayed.

"Shall we continue this discussion in more comfortable surroundings, downstairs?" Cyril Charles asked.

***

Sierra, Max, Astor, and the two Tesla's sat beneath the Raphael nude. Charles went to get suitable libations.

"I cannot stay too long," the older Tesla said, "for all the obvious and not-so-obvious reasons."

"And the purpose of your visit, then?" Astor asked. "Not that I'm not pleased to the core to see you, to be part of this experience, as I am!"

The older Tesla nodded. "Several reasons. First, my presence here demonstrates that our side won – that someone other than Heron was able to construct a Chair."

The younger Tesla nodded. "Me."

"Yes," the older Tesla said.

"But that could change in an instant," Max said. "Heron could yet succeed, and you could disappear in an eye-blink."

"Yes," the older Tesla agreed. "But as of now, no, not yet. I wanted you to know that."

"Ok," Sierra said. "That makes me glad."

"But the main reason I came back is that Mr. Appleton could not—"

Sierra was suddenly far from glad.

"He is still alive," the older Tesla continued, "but he is very weak. The trip to the future exhausted him."

"Why did he go?" Sierra asked.

"He had to see to the
Chronica
," the older Tesla replied. "He said the original scroll that you brought forth from ancient Alexandria was stolen from his home in Wave Hill last night."

***

Charles returned with the drinks.
 

The older Tesla drank his appreciatively, and smacked his lips. "It is best that I return now. This conversation is doing you no good at all," he said to his younger self. "Anything that you now know about me, your future self, will constrict your actions, eclipse your free will, as you live your life. You know too much already." He put his glass down on the mahogany table and stood.

"Let's talk a tiny bit more," Max said. "I'm not sure that your returning to the future is the best way to use your Chair, at this point."

Sierra looked at Max.

"I'm thinking the two of us take the Chairs to see Appleton," he said to Sierra. "I know you won't be able to fully believe what anyone says about Appleton until you see him yourself, and I don't blame you – and then we come right back here, a few moments after we left, and that won't make any difference to the senior Mr. Tesla, right?"