Tesla: A Teen Steampunk/Cyberpunk Adventure (Tesla Evolution Book 1) (12 page)

15

THEY RETURNED TO the front gate and Sebastian asked where Melanie was, much to the guard’s annoyance. The guard tried to brush him off as just another annoying teen that never made any sense until Mr. Stephenson eventually stepped in and explained in what he called “adult words.”

“You must remember the girl that came in earlier today.”

The guard snorted. “She’s in the cells.”

“Cells?” squeaked Sebastian. “But she’s a hero.”

“Maybe she should act like one,” the guard said. “She came in looking fragile, like a damsel in distress, then a couple of words of sympathy and advice and she goes mental. My foot will be aching for a week. Andy had to go home. The old sergeant had never heard such language and he used to be a chef, or a school teacher or something.” Reluctantly, he directed them to the cells.

Sebastian and Mr. Stephenson searched out the bleak residence.

“I must admit I’ve never been to the cells before,” Mr. Stephenson said. “I’m not sure I approve of the kind of person you appear to be engaging with.”

“We’re
not
engaged.”

Mr. Stephenson sighed. “Engage can mean things other than in reference to the acceptance and commencement of the matrimonial processes.”

Sebastian nodded in a knowing way, too tired to ask what that meant.

Mr. Stephenson led Sebastian into a small low building that emanated solidity with its stone facade and heavy iron door. A short fat man sat behind an old wooden desk. The man looked cranky, possibly due to being unimpressed with his level of professional success. He was wearing a frown so ingrained that his face resembled a dried prune.
 

Mr. Stephenson leaned forward and engaged the man with his special talking-to-other-men words, which sounded to Sebastian as though a scattergun of grunts and half-finished sentences had been fired into the conversation.
 

While the two men were deep in conversation and not paying him much attention, he slipped away down a dark passageway leading deeper into the building. He wandered down the long dark tunnel that looked more like a secret entrance to an underground tomb. It ended with a large iron gate. Just beyond the gate lay the cells. He could hear the murmurs, the sobs, the crazy laughing.
 

To his right was another smaller gate, and behind it a small room, the gatehouse. It contained a few mugs, a table and some books. In the center of the table was a large set of iron keys. He squinted at them, then back at the lock of the large gate. They looked like a good fit. But the gatehouse was locked.
 

He reached in through the bars to see if he could get the keys. They were several inches away from his fingertips. He waggled his fingers in an attempt to magic them over, but failed. He stretched as far as he could until his arm hurt.
 

He searched the area for a stick or something long enough to catch the keys. The floors were swept clean, with nothing lying around out of place. He sighed. He decided to give it another go.
 

He reached through the bars and this time his fingertips just grazed the keys. He stretched and managed to lay a fingertip on the metal loop holding them together. He tapped at it until his arm hurt again. He had another rest before trying for a third time. This time he found them within reach of his fingers. He pawed at them until he could clasp them between his fingertips, and lift them off the table and out.
 

He put the whole episode down to the stretching his sports teacher had gone on about endlessly when the teacher had turned up once a week at the school and told them what a bunch of ‘girly-girls’ they were. Who’s laughing now, Mr. Vanessa? he thought.

He placed the keys in the lock, which turned smoothly. With a solid clunk, he unlocked the gate. He pushed. The gate failed to move. He examined the lock to make sure he had unlocked it. Then it gently and slowly swung open of its own accord.
 

He wandered into a central area, which was surrounded by cells. They were old, cold and made out of stone. There were no windows. The only light came in via gas lanterns scattered around the walls.

He searched until he found a cell that didn’t have a half-crazed, big-beardy man in it. He saw a small person wrapped in a blanket, lying on a low wooden bench and facing the wall. Melanie was instantly recognizable, even without the swearing. He unlocked the cell and walked in.
 

The figure groaned.

“I know it’s you,” he said. “I can tell by the smell.”

“Go away,” Melanie groaned. She sat up and glared at him suspiciously. “Hang on, how did you get in?”

“I grabbed the keys. The adults are being adult-y upstairs. They never notice us kids. They don’t think I’m important.”

Melanie snorted. “You try being a girl. We’re worse than invisible. Invisible and useless. Better for nothing other than wearing dresses and looking pretty.”

“At least you don’t have that problem.”
 

She kicked him.
 

“What happened to you anyway?” he said, rubbing his shin.

“They put me in the women’s quarters, with girls. There was lace and frills everywhere.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad. Did they talk about ... sewing, baking or stitching?”

She narrowed her eyes. “No. It was worse. They spoke about those traveling singers, No Bearing, endlessly. How can such a bunch of stupid boys take up so much brain space?”

“Did you tell them that?”

“Loudly and repeatedly. Then a couple of them said I was unladylike, and I should be wearing a dress.”

Sebastian put his head in his hands.

*

Sebastian got into an unbelievable amount of trouble when it was discovered he had gone down into the cells and somehow gotten into them. Apparently it was all very suspicious.

He sat there glumly, next to Melanie, resting against the windowsill. He watched the afternoon clouds rolling in, as the incessant distant drone of the adults talking bored him into a semi-unconscious state. Melanie had her arms folded and was kicking the wall. In the end he couldn’t take the silence any longer.
 

“Who is No Bearing?”

“Just a bunch of stupid boys with whooshy hair who can barely sing. They travel around the major towns crooning to teenage girls. Back home, Candice, Jessie and Tracey were always going on about them. They’re so stupid sometimes. What’s so special about stupid boys with whooshy hair?”

Eventually Mr. Stephenson emerged with the head guard grumbling behind him. Mr. Stephenson was smiling, which lifted Sebastian’s spirits. He stood in front of Sebastian and Melanie with his hands clasped together.

“There is good news, and some not so good news.”
 

“Oh, here we go,” muttered Melanie.

“You, young lady, will be coming with me. I’m to be your guardian while you stay in the city. No women’s quarters or cells for you.”

“All right!” she cheered.
 

“You’ll receive your own living space just next to mine, but you must keep in regular contact with me and let me know your whereabouts at all times.”

“My own room,
double
all right!”

“Now, the not so good news.” Mr. Stephenson turned to Sebastian.
 

Sebastian’s spirits sank. He didn’t want to go to jail.
 

“You must go and cohabitate with the teslas,” Mr. Stephenson said. “I’m sorry I can’t look after you. I know that’s what your mother would have wanted.”

After it was obvious that Mr. Stephenson wasn’t going to say anything else, Sebastian said, “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“That isn’t too bad. Thank you for helping me.”

“It wasn’t me,” Mr. Stephenson replied. “Number Two called down from the heavens and instructed Mr. Floater here to release you.”
 

“Who’s Number Two?”

“Nikola’s commander.”

“Doesn’t he have a name?”

“Yes. Number Two.”

Sebastian sensed that this was going to be one of those adult explanations that only worked if you’d lived their life and knew all their experiences, and if you hadn’t then you were stupid. He let it go.

“Mr. Floater will escort you down to the quarters and make sure you’re settled in with your fellow teslas.”
 

Mr. Floater smiled and nodded at Sebastian, but when Mr. Stephenson turned away he gave Sebastian a menacing look. Sebastian hoped “settled” didn’t mean beaten to a pulp.

“Come, young lady, we must away post-haste.” Mr. Stephenson indicated for Melanie to follow him.

“When you say all times, does that include when I need to—” she said as the door slammed shut.

Sebastian heard a loud shout of “No” from Mr. Stephenson on the other side of the door. Considering how thick the door was, it must have been a very loud shout, Sebastian mused.

Once he was certain that Mr. Stephenson had left, Mr. Floater turned and waved an angry finger at Sebastian. “Right, you pipsqueak, you’re coming with me. If I ever catch you doing something illegal again it’ll be the deepest, darkest dungeon for you, and no friends in high places will help you out next time. Especially when I won’t tell them where you are. Comprende?”

Sebastian gave him a blank look.

The guard shook his shoulder. “Understand?”

“Yes,” he cried. “All except for that last word.”

“Stupid boy.”
 

Mr. Floater grabbed Sebastian by the shoulder and dragged him out the doorway. He manhandled him for several blocks through the twists and turns of the narrow streets. They came to a tall building that had two sets of steps, one leading up and one leading down. The higher doorway beckoned with a light door mainly made from glass. The lower door looked like a cell door. It was built of heavy wood rammed together with huge bolts, with an enormous keyhole carved into the wood.
 

Mr. Floater fumbled through some ancient keys, discolored and disfigured with age, until he found a black one almost as large as Sebastian’s whole forearm. Without releasing Sebastian from his grip, he unlocked the door and yanked it open. The smell of damp, rotting wood and unwashed clothes came rolling out.

“Go live with the other freaks.” Mr. Floater bundled Sebastian down the stairs and through the doorway.

16

THE DOOR SLAMMED shut behind him. He heard the lock slide into place and the guard’s footsteps retreat into the distance. Sebastian clutched the backpack to his chest. It was all he had, and it wasn’t even his. Several other boys about the same age were lying around talking among themselves. Sebastian stood fixed to the spot, uncertain of his new surroundings. The room made him feel very odd; there was something about it that set his teeth on edge.
 

“I’ve a feeling we’re not in Talinga anymore,” he whispered.
 

The dorm room was long and had nearly a dozen beds evenly distributed. Some even had white lines drawn between them to make sure they were the right distance apart. Clothes were strewn all over the place. His mother would not have approved. There were several empty beds.
 

His fellow captives resembled upturned mops: thin boys with long, unwashed hair. One boy about halfway along looked relatively normal compared to the others. His frame was a bit more solid, and his skin didn’t look like the surface of the moon. His hair was dark and short in comparison to the other boys’ various shades of near-blond mops.
 

Sebastian wandered over to the empty bed beside the boy and sat down.
 

“Hey,” said the boy. “I’m Isaac.” He waved what appeared to be an overly large hand at Sebastian.

“I’m Sebby.”

Isaac extended his hand and they shook hands. Sebastian sensed a slight tingle in his fingers. He made no comment, as the other boy hadn’t seemed to notice.
 

“Where’s your stuff?” the boy said.

“I didn’t have time to get anything before the cyborgs came and destroyed my village.”

“What? Cyborgs? Destroyed?”

Sebastian looked from side to side. “Yes. Isn’t that what they do? How did you get here?”

“The Searchers came and tested all the kids in the city, and we got a nice comfy train ride here.”

“Your home and family didn’t get wiped out?”

“N … o.”

“Laser guns blasting? Death? Everything on fire?”

“Wow. We had none of that. It sounds really cool. I wouldn’t mind my sister being laser-gun blasted. She’s always shouting and throwing stuff at me, except when she’s listening to No Bearing.”

“It’s not cool. It’s pretty scary. And then the great scary flapping things came and destroyed the train.”

“What? GSFBs? Not the express?”

Sebastian nodded.

Isaac sighed and looked dejected. “I really liked that train. Oh well, I guess they’ll be able to fix it. They fix everything.”

Sebastian kept his thoughts to himself. He wasn’t sure if the train or the tracks could ever be fixed. He felt a little bad and almost partly responsible, vaguely. But he hadn’t asked the dragons to attack.

“What was your tesla score?” Isaac asked.

“I didn’t get one.”

“You didn’t do the test? How did you end up here?”

Sebastian shrugged and clasped his backpack tightly. “Nikola said I was to stay here.”

“You’ve actually met him? Wow. What’s he like?”

“Okay for an adult. He didn’t treat me like an idiot. A bit official, but he looks like a dandelion.”

Isaac gave him a funny look.

“He’s got white hair that sticks out,” Sebastian said. “Like the dandelions you see in the fields.”

“I’ve only ever lived in the city. But you didn’t do the quiz? Or the blood samples?”

Sebastian shook his head. “He waved a strange stick at me, which clicked, then he said I had to come here.”

“Oh man, you didn’t get the big needle? That’s not fair.”

“Well, I did lose my village.”

“Oh yeah. That’s not good.” Isaac cast his eyes down and flicked the fingernails on his large fingers.
 

Sebastian lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He felt a refreshing chill seep into his body. “Why’s it so cool in here?”