Shadow Boxer: NA Fantasy/Time Travel (Tesla Time Travelers Book 2)

by Jen Greyson

  Or leave a clue.

  I crouch next to her. “Tell me again.”

  This time, as she tells me, I let my mind blur at the edges and hunt for the connection, for whatever Nikola was trying to tell me. To punctuate her sentences, she draws a dark square around the mathematical answers. On the sixth one, she doodles a scalloped line connecting all the answers.

  “Maybe it’s about the answers, not the kind of equations,“ she says.

  “What do you mean?” I rock back on my heels.

  She cocks her head and studies the paper. “In math, it’s always about the answer. It never matters how you solve the problem, only that it’s solvable. I mean, and that you follow the rules to solve it.”

  I stand and twirl a fat curl, drawing it to my mouth and feathering the end against my lips. One conversation would have saved all this confusion. Why didn’t he tell me what these were, or how to use them when he sent me for them?

  Unless other people were listening.

  “Okay, so assume for now it’s about the answers. Where does that take us?”

  She taps the paper. “I think they’re connected. We could plug the digits into a search engine and see what comes up.”

  I spin from the room. “Worth a shot.”

  She follows, but I pause at the second landing before stepping into the kitchen, and glance at the open door of the spare bedroom.

  “Come on.” Tiana pushes me forward.

  “Don’t let me forget to close that door.”

  “Sure,” she says absentmindedly as she opens my laptop.

  I stare through the wall toward the spare bedroom while she clicks away. “I’ll be right back.”

  She doesn’t answer, just peers closer at the screen.

  I jog up the stairs and trigger the trap for the spare room and pull the door shut and return to the kitchen.

  At the computer, Tiana’s twirling her pen and staring across the room.

  “Find anything?”

  “Could they be coordinates—like a latitude and longitude?”

  More patents and papers? “Maybe.”

  I swing around the counter and see what she’s pulled up. It looks like an abandoned lot near a river. “Zoom out.”

  She clicks the map until a few names start appearing.

  I shake my head. “Further.”

  The map expands and I squint, leaning closer. “Kyrgyzstan? Okay, not coordinates.”

  “Wait.” She pulls the paper between us and stabs Nikola’s name. “Whose name is this? Someone important?”

  I nod. “These are his equations.”

  “And this?” She touches Westinghouse’s name.

  “The money behind Nikola’s work in the beginning.”

  “Or N for north and W for west, right?” Before I can answer, she changes the search, adding the letters between the numbers. The map shifts, and now the nearby names are ones I recognize—Chester, East Hampton, Norwich. The arrow is back at an abandoned lot along the water’s edge, but at least we’re back on familiar ground.

  “Get directions from there to Wardenclyffe Tower,” I say, playing a hunch.

  The map shifts, starting the directions at Wardenclyffe, a green line splits the screen, guiding us to the mystery location in thirty point two miles.

  Someone pounds on the door, startling us both. “Evy!” Mr. Steinaman yells. “Time to go!”

  He eases the front door open and I spin Tiana on the chair. “Go with him. I’m going to arc to find out what’s there.”

  “But—”

  “Go.”

  “Tiana’s coming with you,” I shout and disappear to the coordinates.

  CHAPTER 32

  DUST MOTES FLOAT through the sunbeams drenching me. I squint through the bright light to figure out where I landed. Thirty feet above, steel beams span at least sixty feet across the warehouse. Every ten feet, they’re dotted with large spotlights, two of which are pointed straight at my location, not sunbeams. Large air movers whir in the corners, preserving the contents of the warehouse. I step out of the blinding light and let my eyes adjust and step on a rock and wince. I close my eyes and sigh—my shoes are on my stairs. The floor is clean, if dusty. Situated in neat rows, tall racks of boxes stretch in every direction. I walk down three rows, accompanied by only my breathing and slap of my bare feet on the concrete. But it’s a peaceful quiet, and the sense of ominousness is gone.

  From here I can’t tell when I am. No clock, no way to get a paper slid under the door. Inside this warehouse is its own little time bubble. Maybe before I go, I can slip outside and figure it out.

  At the end of the row, the contents of the racks change to mechanical devices, and most are ones I’ve seen during my trips to visit Nikola. I turn a giant circle and laugh. I’d say that piece of paper was more important than any other.

  His entire life is here, stashed away for me to use as needed to see his legacy outlive him. Tears sting my eyes. So smart. So giving.

  So unappreciated.

  I wander up and down the rows, stunned at the sheer volume of brilliance.

  Returning to the first row where I arrived, I slide a dusty box off the lower stack and lift the lid. The overly organized contents make my guts twist, and I pick up a handful. His handwriting looks off, and when I tilt the page I can tell it’s a copy.

  I lift my head and stare at the boxes. Photocopies? I didn’t even think those were invented during his time. George must have helped him with a lot of it. I smack my hand to my forehead. I never did figure out if George knew anything about Nikola’s last days.

  I put the pages back and close the lid. Standing, I survey the giant expanse of warehouse again.

  If Ilif finds this…

  A crackle of lightning erupts behind me and I spin.

  “Crap nuggets!” Tiana stumbles into the warehouse.

  “What the—Tiana!” I lunge for her. “How did you get here?”

  Trembling, she clings to me and says, “After–after you left, there was a tiny silvery thing. I thought it was just lightning, so I touched it.”

  I scrunch my face. “That’s residue. Shit. And your first alteration. You might not be able to go straight home now—you’ll have to complete the first part.”

  She straightens. “I don’t understand any of what you just said.”

  I shake my head. “We need Penya. I don’t know how to lead you through an alteration, and this one of mine isn’t done yet. You got here using my lightning. The residue brought you to me. But you can’t use it to get home.”

  The beam from the spotlight to our left grows and lengthens vertically. Tiana jumps behind me, and I shield her with my arm even though I’m mostly positive it’s Penya.

  When her features solidify, I sigh. “Where have you been?”

  “It has been… most interesting around here.”

  “Yeah well, I’ve needed you. I’ve got problems—”

  She holds up her hand. “Where are you?”

  “A warehouse of Nikola’s. I don’t know when I am or if it’s still intact in my birthtime, but… ” I sweep my hand across my body. “I think it’s everything.”

  “This,” Penya says breathlessly as she turns back to me. “This is what I have—what Ilif’s been searching for. Everything is here. Oh, Evy. Now you must lie to Ilif. Tell him the men who arrived upon Nikola’s death took everything.”

  I shake my head. “He’ll know.”

  “No. He has been far too busy. You obeyed him well enough during this alteration that he believes you work with him.”

  Tiana peeks from behind my arm, but Penya’s still scanning the room. When she turns, she gasps. “Who is this?”

  “She followed my residue here. This is my little sister—”

  “Tiana,” Ti says, interrupting and stepping out from behind me, hands clutched to her chest.

  “Another female.” Penya grins. “That is fantastic.”

  “Now you have to leave Ilif’s lab. It’s time for you to teach
her and Papi.”

  “You are right. First things first, get me these papers.”

  “No, Penya, I’m serious. We haven’t talked, but Nikola told me that Ilif was—is—I don’t know—into shady stuff with international weapon trafficking.”

  She laughs. “I have known that for ages. His final weapons negotiation was long ago. His focus is riders, for centuries.”

  I should let it go, but I can’t. “How is that possible? How old are you guys?”

  Overhead, the fans kick up a notch. Apparently we’re too humid for the room.

  “Age is complicated. Think of your own situation. How much time have you spent in an arc compared to the time that has elapsed at home in your birthtime? Ilif and I have been traveling for over forty years of our birthtime.”

  From beside me, Tiana says, “But if you spend a week elsewhere and it’s only been a day at home… and you do that every day… you’ve just added another three-hundred sixty-five weeks to your year.”

  “Not always a week, but basically correct. Now we worry about the information here, okay?”

  I twist my head and look at the rows of boxes and laugh. “You’re not thinking about all of it, right?”

  She shakes her head. “We need only the papers for the wireless energy. This is where Aurelia’s great-grandaughter, Camaria, comes in—her great to the eighth.”

  I choke. Nikola knew all along. I shouldn’t be surprised.

  Penya looks at me, but I wave her on.

  “Camaria’s findings and inventions are on the cusp of creating Tesla’s wireless energy. And she has the international backing to make it available to the world for free—the piece Tesla was always missing.”

  “But his papers have all been published—why can’t she use what’s publicly available?”

  “Not all of them. That what Ilif’s been looking for. During Tesla’s final push—when J.P. stopped funding him—several days were not included in the final published findings. Those days are the critical ones.”

  “Find the papers for his death ray; she needs those, too.”

  I hide my shock and stiffen. “No.”

  “It sounds more dangerous than it is. She is not weaponizing it.”

  I shake my head. Just the name makes my skin crawl. Bad enough the wireless energy could crack the earth. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  “Fine. Find the wireless energy documents and we will work on how to get them to her.”

  “Why can’t Evy just take them?” Tiana asks.

  Penya shakes her head. “No rider moves past their own birthtime into the future.”

  “Yeah, but this is Evy.”

  Penya purses her lips. “True. First, determine a way I can find them in the future. If that doesn’t work, Evy can try.”

  “Why can’t she come here tomorrow in her future?” Tiana whispers.

  I shush her. Penya needs to know what happened since I last saw her, but I can’t go into details with Tiana here. She’s already sufficiently freaked out without knowing the FBI may or may not have it out for me. “How long do we have—when can you come back?”

  “How long will it take you?”

  I pretend to survey the stacks of boxes, even though I think I know exactly where the papers are. I’d bet my life they’re the last ones I took from his hotel room, the ones he’d hidden in a way only I could find. “Give us until tomorrow.”

  She nods. “Good. While you do, I will work on a solution to get them to Camaria.”

  “Meet us at my—” I shake my head. “No. Meet us at Papi’s.”

  “Wait!” Tiana grips my arm. “What about my alteration?”

  Penya purses her lips and addresses me. “She followed your residue?”

  I scowl at Tiana. “Yes.”

  Tiana splays her hands and mouths, “What?” while Penya stares over our shoulders.

  Finally, she says, “Because she followed your residue, and you were already in an alteration, one negates the other. Your residue would not trigger her own alteration. She can arc home no problem, either with your lightning, or her own.”

  “I can just take her home,” I say.

  “No. She will be fine. I will meet her to make sure she is safe. If anything goes wrong, I will come get you. Get those papers. Ilif will not wait much longer. Do you want him to find you here?”

  I shudder. Definitely not. “You’re sure she’ll be fine?”

  “Would I lie to you about your sister? Have I ever lied to you?”

  This isn’t the time to have that conversation, but it needs to happen. Soon. “You’re a big fan of omission. Kind of the same thing.”

  She crosses her arms and scolds me with a look.

  “Don’t I get a say in the matter?” Tiana asks meekly.

  “Welcome to riding,” I snort.

  “Alright then,” Penya says, clapping her hands together. “We have work to do.”

  Tiana moves closer, and Penya’s light fades away into the spotlight until it’s just a regular band of light.

  After she leaves, I take one last glance at the sheer awesomeness of the warehouse and wrap an arm around Tiana. “Time for you to learn how to arc.”

  She rubs her hands together. “I’m ready.”

  “What happened when you touched the residue?“

  “All the lights went out and I felt like someone launched me from a catapult. Then I landed here.” She shakes her head. “It was terrifying.”

  I think of the rush of my first time and laugh. “Sissy, we couldn’t be any more different.”

  She shudders. “I’m okay with that.”

  “This time is going to be the same. Huge expanse of darkness, and you’ll show up at Papi’s house—”

  “Wait, don’t I need to help you find the document?”

  I shake my head. “No. They’re not here.”

  “Oh. Okay then.”

  I take her through a quick lesson on arcing. So similar, and yet so different, from teaching Constantine how to time travel. “Try to make your own gloves this time.”

  Her face squishes up like it always does when she concentrates. I’ll give her one chance to do her own, and then I’ll give her mine so we can both get to business. But I really want her to be able to do this. The need surges in me and I clench my fists and lean toward her. Come on, come on.

  Lightning crackles from her fists then snaps outward and back to encompass her hands with her boxing gloves. Both her face and knees soften, like she’s a total natural.

  I take a step back. “You look amazing,” I say, and mean it.

  When she turns to me, her grin is nearly as bright as her gloves, and she puffs up beneath my praise.

  “Now you think of home, and repeat after me. I am whole.”

  “Yo soy todo.” The words spill from her in Spanish, and I wonder if that’s a first-timer thing, since Papi and I said them together.

  “I am filled with light.”

  “Estoy lleno de luz.”

  “Nothing exists beyond this moment in time.”

  “Nada existe más allá de este momento en el tiempo.”

  “Paths are mine to make and unmake.”

  “Las rutas son míos para hacer y deshacer.”

  “Time is flexible.”

  “El tiempo es flexible.”

  Her lightning flashes to the ceiling, and then she’s gone, a tiny filament of residue hanging suspended three feet off the ground. I whoop and turn in a circle. My baby sister is a rider. Now if I can get Papi riding again…

  While I wait for the residue to dissipate, I fight the urge to follow her. Penya will handle anything on the other end. Not that there will be issues…

  Maybe she’ll have a chance to give Papi and Ti a lesson while they’re all there together.

  Before I leave—and to satisfy my own curiosity—I move to the perimeter of the building and search for a window or door so I can figure out where the warehouse is and how he’s concealed it from satellites. And when he built it… an
d how no one knew…

  The single door is steel and looks heavy. A giant wheel sticks out from the center, looking oddly like the ones they use on submarine hatches. I twist and scan the ceiling again. It looks like an ordinary warehouse ceiling, except now I notice it’s arched, and there’s no hard corner where it meets the sides, but it curves downward and becomes the walls.

  No… way.

  No way is this thing underwater.

  I could try and arc to the other side of the wall, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stay here, or if it will just send me home.

  Curiosity pulses in my belly.

  I drum my fingers against the steel door. I don’t dare open it now. It’d be my luck that the access point was destroyed and there’s only open water on the other side. I want to laugh at the ludicrousness of the idea of an underwater warehouse. Safe from fire, I suppose, if he was worried about that again.

  One way to find out.

  A quick band of fear squeezes my spine, but I trust my lightning. This isn’t swimming, this is holding my breath. I can do this. I arc, closing my eyes just in case.

  The sensation of darkness is ripped away by the pressure of cold water. I force myself not to gasp, and pry my eyes open.

  Stunned, I recount what I’m witness to. Possibly the only one alive, definitely the only person who’s ever seen it from this vantage point. I’m on a seabed just outside Long Island, staring at a secret warehouse of Nikola Tesla’s. One that’s never been discovered, one that contains every single document and machine he ever built. The truth of this is staggering. I cannot reveal this to anyone, ever.

  I kick my feet and grip the end of the building, peering around the corner to see if I was right about the tunnel, and I was. There’s a long metal tube stretching toward the sloping incline of land. I’d follow it, but the pressure on my lungs to take a breath is intense and my time here is over. I flare my lightning and arc home.

  The bolt fractures and yanks me free of the water. I land hard on my back and suck in lungfuls of nothing. I struggle to sit, and rough ground abrades my hands. I wheeze and my lungs start to work. Barely. I wipe my eyes and check my surroundings. Back in the Salt Flats. I completely forgot about the water factor.

  CHAPTER 33