Wonder of the Worlds

by Sesh Heri

  “Sometimes stories need a little nudge, a little push, a little… something.” Houdini nodded, his brow knit in intense concentration, when suddenly his face broke into a broad grin.

  “A little something,” Houdini said. “I’m agreeable. How much of a little something?” “You mean money?”

  Houdini frowned. “Ain’t that what you mean?” “Money is one possibility, yes.” “And what’s another?” “A trade.” “A trade. A trade. I like that. A trade. Trade what?”

  “I—we—need a little help with something—a sensitive matter. I believe you’re the man who can give us that help. You say you can get out of anything.” “Houdini accepts any challenge. You want to advertise something? I’ll set it up.”

  “No, not that.” “Then what?”

  “You say you can get out of anything. Does that mean that you can also get into anything?”

  Houdini looked back and forth between Ade and Lillie, then turned his head to the side and looked at them out of the corner of his eyes. “What are you askin’? What are you tryin’ to pull here? You tryin’ to get me to steal somethin’? What do you take me for?” “I don’t want you to steal anything.” “No?” “No.”

  “What then?”

  Ade looked at Lillie, then around the little dressing room, and then said, “You present your act as magic, but don’t you yourself admit that it is all done mechanically?” “Not mechanically. No, not necessarily. I only say ‘naturally.’ It is all done by natural methods. Nothing supernatural.” “And that means you must use some kind of keys or lock picks.” Houdini’s expression changed from suspicion to the wary blankness of the poker player.

  “I never discuss my methods,” Houdini said. “Those are my professional property and secret.” “I understand that,” Ade said, “but let’s say—let’s say someone needed to get inside some place—get through—say—a door. There must be some

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  kind of key—I think they call it a skeleton key—that could open that door no matter what.” “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” Houdini shrugged, then crossed his arms, and stood, “Sounds like you’re up to no good.” Lillie proposed, “Let me ask you a question, Mr. Houdini.” “No ‘Mr.’—just ‘Houdini.’” “Houdini,” Lillie said. “Do you believe in democracy?”

  “Well, what do you think? I’m an American. Of course, I believe in democ- racy.” Lillie asked, “Wouldn’t you agree that the free press is one of the founda- tion stones of democracy?” “Well, sure.”

  “And wouldn’t you agree that sometimes people withhold facts which the public has the right to know?” “What people? What facts? Sometimes secrets are necessary.”

  “Sometimes,” Lillie said. “And sometimes they become tools of tyranny. Sometimes secrets destroy the well-being of the people.” Houdini shifted the weight on his feet and shook his head. He said, “A lot of maybes and might-bes and sometimeses. It don’t amount to a hill of beans unless you tell me exactly what this is all about.” “I can’t,” Ade said. “You see, what this is all about is our professional secret. ”

  “Look. I don’t know what you’re talking about or what you want. But I’ll tell you this: I ain’t no locksmith. I don’t know nothing about locks and keys and all that. That ain’t my game. I’m an artiste. You need to talk to a locksmith.” “You know a locksmith won’t help us.” “And you think I will?” Lillie said, “Maybe Jimmy the Phonograph will help us.”

  “Jimmy the Phonograph!” Houdini cried. “That mumzer? You go to him and you are up to no good. The Phonograph is nothing but a cheap criminal!” “So you know Jimmy?” Ade asked.

  “Know of him. Everybody knows of him. Nobody I know would touch him with a ten foot pole and wearin’ two pairs of kid gloves.” “We don’t want to go to Jimmy,” Ade said. “We would much rather help you.” “Help me? Help me? Whaddya mean?”

  “Why, with your write-up, of course! I’d like to see you get your bridge jump written up in the papers.” “You’d like to see it? You can get it printed? How?” “I could put in a word.”

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  “A word?”

  “I could let my editor know that I thought it was an important story.” “And that would get me in?” “I think I could do it. We’re promoting the fair. And you’re part of the fair.” “The most important part.” “Now, how do you figure that?”

  “Because Houdini is great. That’s how Houdini figures that.”

  “Yes, well, if you want anyone else to figure it that way, you’re going to have to consider a trade.” Houdini slowly turned his back to Ade in a gesture of utter contempt. “For example,” Ade went on, “maybe that trunk there has some keys in it. Maybe it has a skeleton key—a key that could open any lock. That key could open a lock for you, Houdini, a lock that has been almost impossible for you to open—until now—getting your name in the Newspaper. So far you haven’t been able to do that, have you? Maybe this is your break. All you have to do is work your magic—use your key—and the lock will open. But you’ve got to take a risk—a risk that I’m telling you the truth. That’s going to take a lot of courage, a lot of grit. The question is: Do you have it in you? Do you have the grit? Does Houdini have the guts to be Houdini?” Houdini kept standing with his back to Ade. Finally he said, “Getting you in gets my name out.” “That’s right.” Houdini did not move for several more seconds; then he turned around.

  Houdini said quietly, “I’m sorry, Mr. Ade. Maybe you’re on the level. Maybe both of yez are jake. But I can’t help you. Unless you tell me what you’re up to, there’s no way I can know whether I’d be helping you to do right or showing you the right way to do wrong.” Ade looked over at Lillie and gave a little shrug. She shook her head, frowned, rolled her eyes up, sighed—and then nodded. “All right,” Ade said. “All right, Houdini. We’re going to tell you our secret. Look at this.” Ade gave his copy of the Chicago Record to Houdini. Houdini took it in both of his hands, looked at the front page, and smiled. “Hey,” Houdini said, “I saw this thing last night!” “You saw it?” Ade asked.

  “That’s right. Down on the lakeshore. I like to walk at night. Helps me think and plan. I was walking down there along the lake shore and all of a sudden KA-ZOOMA! There was this airship up there in the sky! And then— KA-ZOOMA! There was another one right beside it! Then—KA-ZOOMA! That other one shot off! Then—KA-ZOOMA! The first one took off and went into a cloud! I saw them—saw them both. Just like this picture here. Only— one of ‘em had windows—portholes! I could see portholes in it! I wasn’t

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  going to tell nobody. They’d think I was crazy! But now… . Say, this is your secret, ain’t it?” “That’s right,” Ade said.

  “Oy! That’s a secret, all right! You know what this thing is?” “Better than that. We know where it is.” “Oy vay!”

  “We want you to get us into where it’s at so we can get a photog raph of

  it.”

  “Oh, Mr. Ade!” Houdini said, and he sat down in the chair in front of his

  dressing room table, all the while reading the Newspaper article.

  “Oh, Mr. Ade!” Houdini said again. Finally he looked up. “Who does this airship belong to?” “Nikola Tesla,” Ade said.

  A light came on in Houdini’s eyes.

  “No kiddin’!” Houdini said. “No kiddin’. Well, well, well. So he’s invented two airships.” “Not two,” Ade said. “Just the one. The one you saw with the portholes. ”

  “And the other one? What about the other one? Whose is that?” Ade and Lillie looked at each other. “We’re not sure,” Ade said. “No?” “No one knows for sure,” Ade said.

  “Ya think maybe Edison has built it?” “No,” Ade said. “Not Edison.” Houdini frowned. “Somebody over in Europe, then?” “Who in Europe do you think could build an airship?” “Then… what are you saying?” Lillie said, “Tesla and his associates suspect the other airship comes from another world.”

  Houdini grinned wi
de; then his face went blank suddenly. He looked at Ade this way for a moment or two, then his eyes widened. “You ain’t kiddin’—are ya?” “We ain’t kiddin’,” Ade said.

  Houdini looked back down at the paper, and shook his head.

  “Another world. Another world. It boggles at the mind, Mr. Ade. It boggles at the mind! Does the President know about this?” “President Cleveland was a passenger in Tesla’s airship last night,” Ade said. “Oy!”

  “And Mark Twain was piloting it.” “Yer kiddin’ me! Mark Twain?” Ade nodded.

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  “And you want me to get you in to photograph this? Oh, no! Nothin’ doin’! No way, no how, no, sir! This here is what is called a State Secret! Poke around a State Secret and you’ll end up in the pokey!” “Come on,” Lillie said, “let’s go. He’s all talk and no guts.”

  “Hey!” Houdini said, jumping to his feet. “This ain’t about guts! A person would be crazy to stick his nose into this. The government knows what it’s doing, so let it do what we put it up there to do.” “The people have a right to know about this,” Lillie said. “If we are going to war with another world, we all have a right to know.”

  “Ya can’t scare the old people,” Houdini said. “You gotta think about the old people who are set in their ways.” “When the foreign airships start attacking us,” Lillie said, “there will be a lot of old people who will be scared out of their wits—and a lot of other people, too. Have you thought about that?” “Well… no, but—”

  “You know what I think, Houdini?” Lillie asked. Houdini shook his head.

  “I think you just like to talk big. And that’s all. You’re just talk. You couldn’t get into or out of a tin can without somebody holding your hand. Come on, George, let’s go. This Houdini is useless.” “Wait a minute!” Houdini said. “Wait a minute! Who’s useless? Who can’t get out of a tin can?” “So? Can you get us in to photograph the airship?” Lillie asked.

  “Can I get you in? Can I get you in? Of course, I can get you in! But will I get you in? I ain’t going against State Secrets! No way, no how! Those federal boys won’t just lock us up, they’ll bury us so deep the daisies won’t bloom!” “And Houdini couldn’t dig his way out?” Ade asked. “Even Houdini can’t go up against the government and win.”

  “It looks like,” Ade said, “that Houdini—if he is Houdini—could get us in to see the airship—and get us out again—without anyone being the wiser. Or maybe I’m just expecting too much from Houdini. Maybe I’m confusing gab for grit. Maybe Houdini is only a name and a claim. I think you’re right, Lillie. We’re wasting our time here. This kid is just a second-rate amateur magician. Let’s go.” Ade opened the door.

  “Wait a minute!” Houdini shouted. “Wait a minute! Who do you think you are coming in here and saying Houdini is second-rate? Who do you think you are coming in here blowin’ around with your high and mighty airs? Houdini can get out of—and into—anything! Anything in this world! Anything! You don’t believe me, yez wisenheimers? No? Then come on! Come on! I’ll show yez two wisenheimers! Nobody does dirt to the name of Houdini! Nobody! I’ll get you in—and out—like a shadow! Like a shadow of a shadow! Come on, yez gutless wisenheimers! Houdini is taking yez in!”

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  Houdini had donned his overcoat. He now put on a derby and pulled it down at an angle over his eyes and marched through the door. Lillie and Ade looked at each other, smiling, and followed him out. They reached the lobby of the dime museum and Houdini stopped in front of the exit turnstile, doffed his hat, and made a little bow, gesturing for Lillie to pass through ahead of him. Lillie came forward and passed through the turnstile. “See?” Houdini said, “Getting in will be as easy as that,” and he waved Ade on through, and then went through the turnstile himself.

  “We shall see,” Lillie replied, moving forward toward the street, but then she stopped suddenly. “What?” Ade asked.

  “That man down the street,” Lillie said. “I saw him behind us earlier.” “Is there a back way out of here?” Ade asked Houdini. “Why?” Houdini asked. “Somebody tailin’ ya?” “Creditors,” Ade said. “Ain’t it always?” Houdini said. “Come on. That joker ain’t ever been given the kind of slip we’re going to give him.”

  Houdini waved Lillie and Ade back inside the museum. Ten minutes later the man out on the sidewalk entered the museum, and after searching the whole establishment for another half hour—a search that took in all the dress- ing rooms and the manager’s office—he was unable to find Lillie, Ade or Houdini. He exited through the back fire escape door where his partner stood waiting. In his later report to his superior at the Pinkerton Detective Agency he noted that Lillie West, George Ade, and Houdini had not gone out the back fire escape, had not come out the front entrance, and the three subjects seemed to have “just walked through the walls.” How did Lillie, Ade, and Houdini get past the Pinkerton agents? When they went back inside the museum, they simply stood in the gas-lit gloom with the rest of the onlookers. The Pinkerton agent had, in fact, walked right past Houdini, and had looked at him, but had not recognized him. As soon as the Pinkerton agent had slipped behind the red and white curtain to the back of the stage, Houdini gave a silent hand signal to Lillie and Ade, and the three of them simply walked out the front entrance of the museum. “Like that,” Houdini said, snapping his fingers as they walked out.

  That very same morning while Hall and I met with Paige and the pro- spective investors, and Lillie West and George Ade went to see Houdini, Kolman Czito was working in Tesla’s warehouse south of the fairgrounds. I have no idea what Czito was working on; he never told me, and I never asked. It was not the airship, for that was already completed, at least as far as I could tell. But Czito was working hard, testing little incandescent bulbs, or

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  what Tesla calls ‘vacuum tubes.’ I had seen some of these the night before on Czito’s workbench.

  Czito sat there working with his mind in a very worried state. That morning he had walked around the outside of the warehouse, as was his habit, and came upon the gate to the fire escape that had been left open by George Ade the night before. Czito had gone up the stairs to the rooftop and checked the door up there and found the broken fragment of Lillie’s hairpin still stuck in the door’s keyhole. He had come back down, gone inside the warehouse, and come out again with a new and more complicated lock to replace the one that hung open on the gate to the fire escape. He had closed the gate and snapped the new lock on it, looked at the old lock, found it still workable, and snapped the old lock on as well. Throughout the morning Czito kept thinking about doing all this, and won- dering who had opened the locked fire escape the night before. He knew that he had to tell Tesla about what he had found as soon as he possibly could. At some point in his work Czito stopped what he was doing and looked up. He thought he had heard something. He waited a moment, listened, and then went back to his work. Then he stopped again. He was sure he had heard a sound—maybe the shuff le of a footstep. Czito got up from his work table and reached inside his vest to where he carried a holstered Navy revolver. He pulled it out and held it up with the barrel pointing to the ceiling. He stood up and slowly walked toward the hallway leading out to where the airship stood. He tip-toed a step at a time, his eyes squinting and his jaw clinched tight. When he reached the hall, he stopped and looked out into the dark. He saw nothing. Everything was still and quiet. Then—

  It was a dark shape slowly emerging from the room with the hidden safe that held Tesla’s crystal. The dark shape seemed to be that of a man—and it— he—moved toward the large open space where the airship stood. “Halt!” Czito shouted in a high-pitched voice, ringing with both fear and determination. “Halt or I’ll fire!” The dark shape spun about. Czito saw a f lash of light, then immediately heard an explosion near his ear. The edge of the doorway where Czito stood had splintered from the passage of a bullet. Czito jumped back involuntarily. Then, just as fast, Czito lunged forward and fired his Navy revolver a
t the dark shape which was retreating rapidly down the hall. The dark shape fired back, but Czito had already dodged back behind the edge of the door again.

  Czito lunged forward once more, his revolver held out in front of him, his right hand gripping his revolver, his left steadying his right. The dark shape had rushed past the airship and around to the big sliding doors which stood open with just a crack of daylight shining from outside.

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  Czito stepped forward and saw that the dark shape was a man, dressed all in black with a black hat, and wearing a beard, and—yes—dark, bottle glass spectacles! The man fired back at Czito, the bullet hitting a wall. Czito had jumped behind the airship; when he looked again, the man with the beard and dark spectacles was gone—he had slipped through the narrow crack between the big sliding doors. Czito ran up to the open doors and pointed his gun ahead of him as he looked outside. Straight ahead lay the waters of Lake Michigan. To the left, Czito saw only the distant buildings of the World’s Fair. To the right, he saw nothing—save the shoreline of the lake. Czito looked up and down along the edges of the big sliding doors. He could see no scratches or damage. The doors had not been tampered with, not in any obvious, physical way. But Czito knew there was another way to open the doors—a way using wireless electricity.

  Czito holstered his revolver and ran to the airship, up her stairs, and through her opened door. He clambered up the ladder to the top deck and went to the pilothouse. There he f lipped the switch that closed the warehouse’s big sliding doors. The big doors shuddered for a moment, then slid shut and locked with a loud metallic click which echoed through the building. Czito ran down the pilothouse steps and started to go back down the ladder to the lower deck, but he stopped. He went over to the door of the airship’s engine, slid it open, and looked inside. All the machinery seemed in order. The drive crystal f lashed as it always did, f looding the surrounding machinery with a rainbow of light. Czito slid the door shut and descended the ladder to the lower deck. Czito ran down the steps of the airship and back toward the front of the warehouse, to the room with the vault containing Tesla’s crystal. Czito rushed into that room and stopped on its threshold, paralyzed with a horror and dread that started in his stomach and worked its way outward until his whole being was poisoned.