Veil of Time: A Paranormal-ESP Thriller (The Wizards Series Book 4)

by Jack L Knapp

  “I’ve heard of him, but I’ve never met him.”

  “He’s not an easy man to approach. Still, he’s a giant of finance, one of the truly great men that America has produced. He financed the early development of Wardenclyffe, but unaccountably refused further involvement when I attempted to explain my invention.”

  “Did he understand what you were doing when you first spoke to him?”

  “I thought he did, Tom. But now I wonder if I might not have made a mistake. He was interested in the communications possibilities, and of course the tower provides that, but it will do so much more! Such a great man, I had thought the possibilities would be obvious to such as he.”

  “How will your tower do this, Mr. Tesla?”

  “It’s not like what Mr. Marconi is doing at all, Tom. He attempts to exploit the air waves, but Wardenclyffe also harnesses the natural resonating frequency of the Earth. Do you understand the principle of resonance?”

  “I think so, Mr. Tesla; it’s where you add to what’s already there, pushing a bit more each time to create a much greater effect?”

  “That is close enough, Tom. Yes, the resonance that Wardenclyffe sets up is between the upper atmosphere and the ground. To that end I had tunnels dug deep within the earth. A central shaft connects the tunnels, and there are escape tunnels that slant to the surface in case of flooding. Wardenclyffe is quite near to the Sound, you see, so the possibility of flooding must be allowed for when the coil begins full operation. I had workmen line the shaft and tunnels with stonework, but nothing is safe when the resonance begins to build. By means of the tunnels, the tower grips the earth and shakes it, imposing a new frequency on the natural carrying capacity of the planet.”

  “I’ve had a difficult day, Mr. Tesla. Can we continue this discussion tomorrow? Perhaps more of my memory will return after a good night’s sleep. Meanwhile, you must allow me to pay for dinner; the food was excellent and the company even better!”

  “Really, Tom...” Tesla demurred. “I asked you to be my guest.”

  “You mentioned that constructing Wardenclyffe has tied up your available funds. I insist, Mr. Tesla. This evening you are my guest! Perhaps one day I may boast that I once had the celebrated scientist Nikola Tesla as my guest for dinner!”

  “You are too kind, Tom. Very well, you get a good night’s sleep. I must return to my research; there is so much to do, so much to be discovered. Mankind is surely in need of the things I am working on!”

  T was very thoughtful when he entered the hotel room. He’d picked up a few scraps of thought while dining with Tesla. Despite his claims of new intellectual properties that he was developing, something was wrong. Tesla was virtually penniless, living on charity from friends and on credit when that was not forthcoming. Was he really a genius or no more than a fraud?

  It might be that he was a mix of the two.

  #

  “Lib-ie-ya, you must wake up. Men come, and we must leave this place!”

  “What...Sarah, what men? Why must we leave?”

  “Our young men watch from the mountains and they have seen them. They ride this way with guns. We do not know these men but we have seen others like them. We are few and our men are away, only the young boys remain. We must go, quickly!”

  Libby shrugged into the dress, then wrapped the belt around herself. She picked up the small bundle of clothing that she’d been wearing when she found the Paiute women, all that remained of her life in the future. She would not leave this behind for the raiders to find.

  “How far away are these men?”

  “About an hour’s travel. We must leave the tipi, there is no time to take it down. We will go into the hills. We must carry the small children, so there will be no one to help you. Can you climb among the rocks?”

  “I can. What of the other children, the ones too big for their mothers to carry?”

  “They must keep up. Their mothers sometimes remain with them, but if there are younger children to be cared for the older children may have to be left.”

  “Surely the men you mentioned won’t harm the children!”

  “They will kill the children. It has happened before. There is nothing we can do. If our warriors were here we could fight, but they are in the mountains. They are too far away to help us, even if they knew this was happening. Sometimes there is nothing anyone can do. The men come with guns, and they have many bullets.” Sarah’s voice was calm, almost matter of fact. She might have been discussing the proper way for Libby to tie her belt.

  “You go ahead, Sarah. You are needed, and there may be something I can do to help. I will remain behind. It may be that when they see a white girl, they will stop.”

  Sarah was doubtful. “It may be so, if they see you in time. But you are dressed as a Paiute girl would dress, so they may shoot before they realize you are not Paiute.”

  “You must not think of me, Sarah. Your tribe needs you. Are you not the chieftain while your father and grandfather are away? You must lead your people to safety in the mountains.”

  “Lib-ie-ya, how can I do this thing?”

  “Sarah, each of us must do what we must do. Lead your people. Do not fear for me.”

  Sarah nodded jerkily, then slipped silently through the opening in the tipi. Moments later, the village grew quiet. The women had gone and the older children had followed.

  Libby unpacked the small roll of her clothing. The T-shirt would not help, not here, but the jeans would be comfortable. The sneakers too; they would provide more support than the moccasins she was wearing, the ones she’d made while being tutored by Sarah. Shrugging, Sarah decided the dress had to go too. It took her only a few moments to dress in the clothing she’d worn when she arrived in the past.

  She took a last look around. The Indian women had been kind, the children curious but respectful of the strange white girl. It had been pleasant, and for a time she’d managed to forget the strangeness.

  A glimpse to the south showed a dust cloud hanging close to the ground.

  Libby walked toward the dust, away from the wikiups and the tipi she’d shared with Sarah. Ahead of her, she saw the glint of sunlight on metal.

  #

  Ray felt self-conscious at first. Men looked at him, remembering that he’d worn stained buckskins the previous night. But they lost interest and Ray grew accustomed to the fit and feel of the strange clothing. The scratchiness of the wool pants would hopefully go away in time, but otherwise the clothes were comfortable. Fon had done well, taking him to a Chinese tailor who’d sold him a shirt and black string tie, then took his measurements for the trousers. They’d been ready when Ray woke up.

  The tables were already crowded. Ray walked around, nodding at the men he recognized. The professional gamblers nodded silent greetings back as he passed, and the lookout and counter who worked with the faro dealer smiled at Ray. He made their job easier by being where the transient gamblers could see him. The few at the bar eyed him warily when he finished his circuit and sat down on a tall stool at the end.

  “I’d like a cup of coffee. It’ll help keep me awake.” The barkeep shrugged, and put the bottle back with the others kept under the bar. “Take me a few minutes, but I’ll make some. Boss likes coffee, and so does that fellow at the other end of the bar.”

  Ray nodded his thanks, then went back to watching the patrons. The noise resumed its former boisterous level.

  “Howdy.” The speaker was a middle-aged man, slim, wearing the kind of clothing favored by miners.

  “Good evening to you, sir.”

  “My, you’re polite! I ain’t been called sir in a coon’s age!”

  “It doesn’t hurt to be polite when I can. Time enough to change that if I have to.”

  “My name’s Jimmie. You’re Ray, that right?”

  “I am. I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

  “I got to town this morning. Been taking the cure up at the hot springs in the Jemez.”

  Ray looked at him appraisingly.
“Taking the cure?”

  “Yeah, I got a touch of lead poisoning. I was working at the Iron King mine, and when I started having stomach troubles and bad headaches I knew right away what it was. I quit the job and tried the springs owned by the Hill brothers, they’re in the Gila country north of Silver City, but they didn’t help me much. I was with three other fellows when I went there and those springs did them a powerful lot of good, but s’pect I got more of a dose of the lead than they did. Mining’s dusty, so a feller breathes in whatever’s there. Anyway, after two weeks I knowed I needed something more, and the Jemez springs have a real good reputation. It worked, too; my stomach settled right down and the headaches went away. I figured to stop in to New Town here and look at people I ain’t been looking at while I was under the weather. My name’s McKenna; I’ve got a place of my own up in the Black Range. When I ain’t mining, I do a little farming and hunting.”

  “Glad to make your acquaintance, Jimmie.”

  “You got another name, Ray?”

  “Ray’s enough.”

  “Wal, shore, I didn’t mean to pry. No offense intended.”

  “None taken, Jimmie. I don’t mean the law’s after me. I’m peaceful, given a choice.”

  “I heard that about you. You don’t have a lot of back-up to you from what I hear. That’s why I figured I should talk to you. You’re a pleasant young feller, but you ain’t been here long enough to know who people are. You might want to be careful of the men back yonder at that table.” Jimmie nodded at six men who appeared to be drinking, but not gambling.

  “They’re not causing trouble.”

  “They ain’t, not yet. But they’re a mite unhappy with that young feller at the other end of the bar.”

  “I see. Well, as long as they leave each other alone, it’s no business of mine. What they do after they leave here, that’s up to them.”

  Jimmie nodded. “The kid at the bar, he used to ride with them, but I hear he’s trying to quit. John Kinney’s the feller with the mustache. He’s got a ranch down near Mesilla, ships a lot of beef to the Army and the Indian Agency.”

  “Nothing wrong with that, Jimmy.”

  “Nope, except that he’s not running a lot of stock on his ranch.”

  Ray looked at him in surprise. “He’s a rustler?”

  “I didn’t say that. He claims he buys the stock he sells from Jesse Evans and the Boys. The rest of that bunch at the table are part of the gang.”

  “The boys? They don’t look like him.”

  “They’re not family, and most of them don’t do any ranching. You can figger it from there. Anyway, that kid rode with the Boys but he’s smart enough to know they’re ridin’ for a fall. He’s not a bad kid, just got in with bad companions. He joined up with them at Apache Tejo, near to where I was working up on Cook’s Peak, that’s how I come to know about him. One of my friends down there knows him well and he’s afraid the kid will get in over his head. Kinney’s under indictment for murder in Mesilla and Jesse’s Boys are a bunch of unhung scoundrels. You be careful of them, although I don’t expect you’ll have any trouble with the young man at the bar.”

  “Thanks, Jimmie. Buy you a drink?”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I’m sure there’s a haberdasher who can fit you, Tom. Ready-to-wear clothing is not up to the standards of my tailor, of course, but it will be a step above what you’re wearing now.”

  Tesla was dressed impeccably, despite the early hour. If the man had indeed not slept, he looked amazingly fresh.

  “I’ll do that, and thanks for the invitation to your lecture. Most of my memory seems to have returned, except for recent events.”

  “Have you remembered your name, Tom?”

  “It’s Tagliaferro. I’m still not sure how I got here, because I’ve recently been living at my ranch in Nevada. I have holdings in livestock and mining, nothing to rival the great ranches of course, but it provides me with a comfortable living.”

  “I also spent time in the west, experimenting with a tower I constructed in Colorado. I needed to place my transmitter at the highest altitude I could achieve and the easiest way to do that was to build near the summit of a tall mountain. I found such a place near the town of Colorado Springs.”

  “And was your experiment a success, Mr. Tesla?”

  “Unfortunately, no. It was not the complete success I expected, because the dynamo I used to provide electricity failed. I did, however, get considerable information that I used in building my larger unit at Wardenclyffe.

  “I considered building the tower near Niagara Falls, so that I might have enough power to fully charge the coil. Still, it would not have been a perfect location, because I needed land to build my workshops. There was also the question of finding skilled labor so far from the centers of population. In the end, the lack of ready funds forced me to accept the location on Long Island that I named for my benefactor, Mr. Warden. Wardenclyffe has its own dynamo, which should provide the necessary power. I shall make another full-power attempt to establish resonance as soon as I complete the necessary repairs to the transmitter; short circuits, most likely the result of a lightning strike to the tower, damaged the equipment. This happened shortly before we found you. It may well be that the failure saved your life.

  “But enough of that. Consult a haberdasher this morning while I’m working on my tower, and we can meet back here for lunch. Shall we say one in the afternoon? That will give us time to enjoy the meal before I meet with a group of potential investors. You shall be my guest, and I promise you that you’ll see a demonstration of what electricity can do to benefit mankind!”

  “Excellent, that should give me enough time for errands I need to do as well as consult a haberdasher as you suggested.”

  “Enjoy your coffee, Tom. I’ll meet you here at one o’clock.”

  #

  T found a jeweler who would convert most of his gold coins to currency. He tried to avoid staring at the oversized bills he received in return, all labeled “US Notes”. Presumably that was short for banknotes or perhaps treasury notes. He folded them and put them into his new trousers.

  In addition to the trousers, which he’d bought from Brooks Brothers on Madison Avenue, he’d acquired a dark-gray three-piece suit, three white shirts, and a necktie. The helpful assistant at Brooks Brothers also sold him a homburg hat, fine leather shoes, and a wallet. Hemming the trousers would take time, but T thought the investment necessary. Meeting Tesla, whether due to natural lightning or a bolt from the tower, had also been a stroke of luck. He might be able to provide the help T needed to make sense of the data he’d recorded during his trip east.

  T visited a bookstore and bought several magazines and two books. One was a recently-published biography of Tesla, so he settled down on a park bench to glance through the magazines first. They dealt with the latest developments in electricity, some of which had become commonplace by the 21st Century. Others mentioned companies that had vanished and ‘discoveries’ that had failed to materialize.

  The biography reminded him of other details regarding Nikola Tesla’s life. T now understood why the electric car company had chosen the name. While not so famous as Edison, Tesla had clearly been remarkable in what he’d accomplished.

  His transmitter had never lived up to what Tesla expected. Many of his inventions, including some that Tesla had patented, had been lost; the inventor of practical alternating-current electricity had kept many of the details of his inventions safe in his extraordinary memory. This included practical details, needed for development but not necessary for obtaining patents. As a result, it had taken decades for others to rediscover Tesla’s work.

  Notwithstanding the patents, people searched Tesla’s publications in the hope they could improve on his ideas. With luck, they’d manage enough differences to file patents of their own.

  Some of the men who’d ignored Tesla’s patents were giants of history. Marconi was one such; h
e’d improved on Tesla’s idea, then founded a thriving business producing wireless communication sets for ships. Other companies manufactured motors using Tesla’s system and installed them in streetcars. Some simply appropriated Tesla’s ideas and claimed they had done the work themselves.

  Still, Tesla had one thing going for him; he documented experiments, recorded results, and in many cases built a prototype before applying for a patent. He’d already been granted more than a hundred patents, most from the US government but others from Canada, France, Germany, and Italy.

  Attending a lecture by Tesla, now that he’d met the man, was not an experience T was willing to skip.

  Concern for Libby was never far from his mind. Tesla was well known as a mathematician, so if T could interest him in the notes he’d made, Tesla might be able to make sense of them. Following that, he might even be able to direct T to where Libby had gone. While it was unlikely he would be able to say something like “search Nevada in 1890,” especially since T wouldn’t be able to provide him with all the details, he might provide enough information for T to narrow the search.

  T’s concern was somewhat lessened by the realization that with time travel, how long he waited to find Libby was probably meaningless. As soon as he understood the principles well enough to get an idea of when and where she’d gone, he might be able to arrive at the same destination only moments after Libby got there.

  The reputed ‘time traveler’ named Bendix had never been more than a remote possibility. He would search out the man when time permitted, but Tesla looked far more promising as the solution to T’s problem.

  The other book T bought was a classic science fiction story, recently published by Henry Holt and Company. Adapted from a British publication, the book by H. G. Wells was entitled The Time Machine. It might give T a chance to introduce the idea of time travel to Tesla.

  T, natty in his new dark suit, walked to the restaurant. He left the magazine and book about Tesla in the hotel, but took the Wells novel with him.