Tesla's Signal (59 page)

“Very well, Engineer,” said Z'duun, “what advice do you have?”

Edison sucked in a lungful of smoke. “Look, fellas.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I'll bet my last dime that Tesla's out there hatching some plot against your Holinesses. That boy may have a college degree, but he never had a lick of horse sense...always stuffed full of these foolish dreams of being a hero and a saint. Now
me,
I've got the common sense to sign up with the winning side—the folks who'll take good care of my fortunes.” Smirking, Edison sat back and blew smoke in the direction of his two Angel masters.

“Now, you boys want to rule this planet,” Edison went on, “but you don't have the first notion of how to handle human beings. So just listen to me, and I'll give Tesla to you on a silver platter and you can carve him up like a Thanksgiving turkey, or whatever your little Martian hearts desire.”

Z'duun didn't seem to notice Edison's familiarity, bordering on disrespect. He stared at the human Engineer and began to emit a steady rumbling which signaled pleasure. “Very well, K'va Ed'saan. What do you propose?”

“Oh, why don't you just leave the details to me. Let me amaze you with my genius.”

***

“Nicky? Is it really you?” said Katharine Johnson, who sat wrapped in a blanket, sipping tea. The Station dwellers studied the new arrival curiously. Even in her disheveled state, Katharine was a obviously a refined, high-class woman: tall, slender, with radiant blonde hair, straight teeth, and impeccably crisp diction.

“Yes, Katharine, it's me.” It broke his heart to see what had become of this dear friend. “What's happened to Robert?”

“I don't know. Last I remember we were going to an opera show. What happened to me?” She began to cry

“Never mind for now, dear.” He decided not to mention the lynch mob. “I'll tell you when you're stronger. For now...just relax. You're safe here.” He patted her shoulder, a rare gesture from him.

She put a hand on his and smiled up at him. “Oh, Nicky...I always feel safe with you.”

Clara glared at the tall, willowy blonde. “Just so you know, lady—
Nikola
is not interested in you romantically.” She had already had to tell several of the girls in this refuge the same thing.

Katharine looked at Clara. “You look familiar. Oh, I remember! It's Miss Kara, the Theremin player!” She broke into a hundred-watt smile. “It's all coming back. You were Nicky's secretary, weren't you? He couldn't figure out why you'd snubbed him. I told him that it was because you were in love with him.” She squealed in delight. “Ooh, I was right, wasn't I? Oh, how wonderful! I hope you two are happy together. I wish only the best for my friend Nicky.”

***

“I guess our master Amulet was fried,” said Clara, scowling as she chewed on a piece of bread. “I can't see any output on this board. ”

Niko tried to take a sip of bitter, black coffee, but his stomach wouldn't accept it. After last night's close call, his digestive system had shut down completely. “We're lucky we weren't fried ourselves. Or taken and laid out on the U'jaan
banquet table.”

They were the only ones awake. They had slept for a few hours, then returned to the work space which they had set up in the train men's shop.

“Well at least we know the Tele-men are a success,” said Clara with a grin. She seemed to have survived her ordeal with no ill effects. “
Nu,
what's our next move?” She emptied a pack onto the table and began rummaging through the contents. “I don't think we've got enough material for another master Amulet.”

Niko scowled. “Then we'll just use the smaller ones. We'll find a way.”

“Maybe we can try again in a day or two,” said Clara. “After the Martians calm down.”

“Sure.” He looked into the coffee mug.
If the radius is 2.5 inches and the depth is 5 inches...
 

She put a hand on his arm. “Nikola, are you calculating the volume of that coffee?”

He looked up with a guilty half-smile. “You know me too well.”

“I sure do. Something's bothering you. Want to talk?”

He picked up a switching module and turned it about in his hands. “I'm not satisfied with our weaponry. Why wouldn't it work against that monster that was dragging Katharine away? I have an idea for some improvements.”

“Let's hear it.” She leaned forward, chin resting on her fists.

“Perhaps the induction guns didn't work on the aliens because of their space-suits and helmets. So I'd like to reconfigure them for much greater force. Remember my earthquake oscillator? Focus those oscillations and send them through a tiny aperture. We could add a resonant circuit here...” He sketched a diagram on the back of a train schedule.

Clara squinted at the drawing. “Hmm...why not try another configuration...like
this.”
She added to the sketch with bold lines. “I think the force would be great enough to crack most known materials...”

“I want it to crack a Martian's helmet, and maybe even a small Orb.  Call it a 'wave rifle'. Something you and I can carry, and some for the Station Dwellers. Just in case something happens to us.”

“Sounds good. Let's get started.”

They assembled a rank of tiny oscillators, receivers and transformers, and wired them to a police carbine stock. Niko scowled, studying it from several angles. “It needs refinement.”

They worked that whole day, ignoring the distractions of curious Station dwellers milling about. That night, after about two hours' rest, they were ready for work again.

“I had a thought, Clara. The Martians are so skilled at sending mind-control through that Orb. Suppose they also
receive
control from it?” 

“You mean, like...orders from their superiors, or that bliss they always talk about? Hmm...then suppose we took this tiny piece of the Orb...” she picked it up in a tweezer. “This is my last piece. Let's make it count. How about we broadcast a
reverse
of its waveshape, and
scramble...”
 

Grinning, she focused the fragment. “We couldn't make it very powerful. It's too small. But perhaps at close range... ah, yes. We'll have a few surprises for those
schwein.”
Humming to herself, Clara began work on a new device.

***

“This is the prototype of our new wave rifle,” Niko explained to a few of the officers. “I'd like to have it ready by tonight—Hugo, I'll let you study it and go over the schematics. If Clara and I are killed, it will be up to people like you to continue—”

A knock interrupted them. “Nick?” said Hugo. “Come quickly. We're getting a radio message.”

Niko ran to the radio unit and put his ear close while he adjusted the dials. After producing several grades of squeals and static, a faint voice came through.

“Attention, attention, Nikola Tesla. Please come in.”

“Who knows you're here?” Hugo whispered.

Clara restrained his hand. “Don't answer it. It could be a trick.”

The three of them stood around the metal box, watching it closely. “Attention Tesla, come in, come in,” said the voice. “Please help us. We need your help.”

Clara seized the microphone. “Who the hell are you?” she cried.

“My name is...(static). We...(static) Columbia University. They came for all the scientists. Killed...family...(static) trapped in...(static).”

A chill of horror passed through Niko.
Columbia University!
The place that those monsters had destroyed!
They came for the scientists.
His brain supplied grisly images of slaughter.

“Speak up,” Hugo said. “We can't hear you.” He fiddled with the dials.

“My name...Stephens...PhD in physics at Columbia U. ...heard Tesla lecture. They say he's come to save New York. Is it true?”

Hugo scowled. “Where are you calling from?”

“
Oy
. How did the word get out...?” Clara muttered.

“...trapped in the basement....(crackle) ...cipal Library.” The last few words came in clearly.

“The Municipal Library,” said Hugo. “Why, that's just down the block, on the other side of City Hall.”

“...on fire,” Stephens said. “...burning the libraries.”

Niko's hands balled into fists. Smashing buildings was bad enough. Burning books...that went beyond bad. The destruction of knowledge!

He grabbed the microphone. “We'll come and rescue you. Have courage!”

“You crazy?” Officer Barrow muttered. “It's dangerous as hell out there.”

“Mr. Barrow, my life has been 'dangerous as hell' ever since the Martians came.”

There are certain reactions in physical phenomena that take on a life of their own. This was one of them. Niko's sense of outrage, and the passion to help a fellow scientist, seemed to pull the others in like a magnetic field. Niko began to suit up, securing weapons, emergency signal band, communication devices and extra Amulets. An aviator's cap covered his hair; goggles went over his eyes; a kerchief masked his face. Clara followed, and soon Jake caught wind of it. “You're going on a rescue mission without me?”

“I guess not.” Clara rolled her eyes. “It won't be far—just around the corner.”

“All right, it's the three of us,” Niko told Hugo. “We'll try to keep in contact. You and Ike, watch the Tele-men control board.”

The group headed up the stairwell, past the guard point, and out to the station entrance, where several Tele-men waited.

Niko checked a radio watch, tuned to the location of Stephens' broadcast. “Let's go. Stick close to the walls,” he added. “The aliens may be able to spot us from their ships.”

“Good point,” Clara agreed. She spoke into the Tele-men control watch strapped to her arm. “Tele-men, guard One, Two, Three,” she told the robots, identifying the members of the expedition.

With a whir of machinery, several robots moved into place around them.

Out on the street, Niko picked up the acrid smell of burning. He could see smoke rising from nearby blocks. “Over there.” Clara pointed to a plume of smoke, a few blocks away. “Let's hurry.”

A sleeping Angel disciple suddenly awoke, pointed and began to scream. “There they are! Heretics!”

Niko let him have it with the electric gun, but others awoke to take his place. An ominous muttering came from their midst. “Heretics, blasphemers, demons from hell.” People darted close, brandishing fists and makeshift clubs. They kept their distance from the Tele-men, but a boy threw a stone.

Niko cursed as the missile struck his shoulder.

“They've got more energy today,” said Clara. “Must have gotten a fresh ration of slop.”

They stood back to back, firing more sparks at their attackers. Jake fired a shot over the crowd's heads.

“Jake, try not to kill anyone,” Clara said. “These people are enslaved... they can't help what they're doing. Tele-men!” She spoke into her controller. “Take position—
defend!”
 

The Tele-men took up a tight formation around the three. The robot named Golem swung massive fists toward anyone who came too close, while the group picked their way through the rubble in the streets surrounding City Hall. A man rushed up, and Golem pushed him back with considerable force. The second Tele-man knocked a few disciples to the ground. Tele-man #3 made threatening arm motions which kept the mob at bay.

The smoke thickened. Niko began to cough. He checked the signal: the trapped scientist and his family were in that next building, the one with the grand colonnade and the bust of Socrates. What part of this building was burning, he wondered. Would it be the central atrium, loaded with rare books? Maybe the room with the medieval manuscripts? “Hurry,” he cried. And he dashed up the marble stairs, avoiding several fragments of broken columns, hoping Clara and Jake could keep up.

The Angels had already hit this building badly, collapsing part of the roof. He had to crouch down and crawl through the obstacles. If he didn't hurry, the trapped survivors could be asphyxiated—if they weren't burned alive along with mankind's greatest treasures: the irreplaceable manuscripts from the world's great philosophers, poets and scientists. Which way was the basement? Surely those stairs that led down—

A piece of floor gave way, and he slid down several stairs. He cried out, trying to catch himself, and pushed debris out of his way. Wait—where were Clara and Jake?

“Clara,” he tried to call out. Had they gone up ahead? He couldn't stop coughing from the smoke. His heart pounded like a sledgehammer in his ears.

Another stairwell led further down.
It must be right in here.
He pushed a heavy door open.

He expected to find a group of desperate, injured scientists waiting for him. He saw nothing but a dim empty space. “Hello?” he called. “Stephens? Is anyone here? We heard your message—”

The door swung shut behind him.
Click.
A slight hissing noise, like a jet of steam, made him look up. A series of nozzles extruded from the walls, all around the room. Each of these nozzles spewed a thick vapor into the room.