by Jack L Knapp
#
Tesla was working on his power transmitter, so T walked to the New York Public Library. Unfortunately, their collection was sparse; they hadn’t yet acquired a large collection of books about what was experimental work in this time. He understood a little more about how electricity worked at the end of the day, but saw no way of using the additional knowledge to find Libby.
Three days later a messenger delivered a letter from Tesla asking if T could meet him at Delmonico’s for dinner.
Discouraged, he met Tesla that evening at eight o’clock.
“How is the construction going, Nikola?”
“We’ve made good progress, Tom. The extra men I hired are pressing the work along. I’ve ordered a shipment of coal to power the steam dynamo, and when that arrives I should be ready for the full-power test. You’ll want to observe it, I’m sure. Two more days, three at the most, and I’ll be ready. ”
“I’ll be there. I’ll be leaving after that, Nikola. This has been very interesting, but I’m not getting any closer to solving my own problem. I think you’re right, only more experiments will tell me what I need to know. I’ve got to get on with it.”
“I understand, Tom. You can be sure I’ll never speak of the things you’ve told me. I don’t dare; too many believe that I’m strange already! I would be mistaken for the mountebanks who claim to speak without words or summon ghosts!”
“We certainly don’t want that to happen, Nikola.”
The two finished their dinner and the excellent bottle of wine, then Tesla stood. “I regret that I must change and resume my work, Tom. I find I am driven when a project nears completion, even more than is usual.”
“Where is our waiter, Nikola? Shouldn’t he have brought the bill by now?”
For all the concern he displayed, Tesla might have been a nobleman from the previous century. “They’ll add it to my account, Tom. Think no more about it. They’re accustomed to doing that, you know.”
“I...see. Very well, Nikola. Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Tesla left and T went off to find the waiter.
“I’ll be paying for our dinners. Bring me the check, please.”
“As you wish, sir. Mr. Tesla prefers we not hand him the reckoning. We simply add it to what he owes.”
“Not this time. I’ll be paying, and from now on when we dine together, bring me the charges after Mr. Tesla leaves. Do you understand what I want you to do?”
“Of course, sir. But what am I to tell Mr. Tesla?”
“Say nothing. Let it be between you and me, or if you prefer, between me and the manager.”
“I understand, sir. Mr. Tesla has secrets too, things we’re not supposed to talk about. I’m the headwaiter, you know. Mr. Tesla insists that I be the one to serve him, and he often calculates the size of his dinner based on what’s on the plate. If he believes the portions are too small or not properly prepared, he insists the meal be taken back and a proper one brought out.”
“Are those the secrets you mention?”
“Oh no, sir. His friends know that Mr. Tesla insists on excellence in all things.”
#
Ray landed atop Mount Taylor shortly after noon. Libby came in moments later.
“Start a fire, Libby. We need to warm up, then we can head to Albuquerque and eat dinner at a cafe. The old man who owns it is an excellent cook, but remember, you can’t talk about what we’ve been doing.”
“We don’t need a large fire, just enough to warm up. Later tonight we’ll be building up a bonfire, one here and another one on a peak in the Sandia Mountains. That’s about seventy miles east of here.”
Libby gathered small branches and created the fire. Ray looked on approvingly; she now had her pyrokinetic ability well controlled.
“Good job, Libby. Not everyone in our home timeline knows how to build a fire.”
“It’s easy. I didn’t know how until I came back in the past, but my friend Sarah showed me how her tribe does it.”
“This Sarah sounds like she knows a lot.”
“She’s very smart, she speaks English and Spanish and two or three different Indian languages too. She told me she lived with an American family for a while; she played with their daughter and they learned things together. It must have been a lot more interesting than studying in a boring old classroom! Are you warm enough yet, Ray?”
“Couple of minutes more, Libby. Then we can head on over to Albuquerque. Don’t expect much; we’re still pretty far back in the past.”
“Oh, I know that. I’ve tried comming Grandpa and T, and they don’t answer.”
“We’ll get back, Libby. I’ve been thinking about it, so after we have a good lunch at the cafe, we’ll need to talk.
Libby’s voice was wistful. “Do you think they have a coke or maybe a hamburger? Maybe even a burrito?”
“I doubt it, Libby. By the way, the cook is called Grandpa.”
“Really? I wonder how he came by that?”
“I think he got it from the people he cooks for. He’s pretty old. He doesn’t have a lot of hair, and what’s left is white.”
“I’ll try to remember. I can call him Mr. Grandpa, can’t I?”
“That would be best. I doubt he has a coke, but maybe there’s root beer or sarsaparilla.”
“But no hamburger.”
“Afraid not, Libby. But I’ll buy you the biggest hamburger in Las Vegas as soon as we get you home. Or Reno, if that’s where Shorty is when we get back.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Ray, I thought you knew Grandpa. He didn’t recognize you, you had to tell him your name. And why did you use a different name?”
“Libby, I’ve gone back in the past, so he hasn’t met me yet. I told him to call me Bob because I don’t want him to wonder about me when I come here sometime in the future.”
“But what if he still recognizes you?”
“I doubt he’ll worry about it. A lot of people change their names when they go west. Sometimes it’s because they’ve got enemies, other times they’re wanted by the police. They come west to get a new start.”
“That’s weird. Anyway, how soon before we can start going forward in time? I want to get home!”
“Is it your grandfather or the biggest hamburger you can find?” Ray teased.
“Both! But no, I’m still worried about Grandpa Shorty. I know you said he was doing better, but I want to see for myself.
“The meal we had at Mr. Grandpa’s was good and I’m not hungry now, but I want a real bath or at least a shower. Clean clothes too! I want to go home.”
“Has this cured you of taking your abilities for granted? You know, all the special abilities seem so easy but using them can be dangerous. Two of your grandfather’s oldest friends were killed because they didn’t take precautions. I’m careful when I use the abilities and so is T, because we know what can happen. Even with our paranormal abilities, we’re only human.”
“I’ll be careful, Ray, I promise. When can we start?”
“I need to talk to you about that. We need a couple of rules before we start. The first one is that if we become separated, you wait right where you are. If you have to, find a place to hide, but don’t try to teleport while you’re in your bubble. Levitating is okay, just no teleporting. As near as I can figure, that’s what caused us to go back in time.”
“I know, I read your mind, yours and T’s, and that’s what I was doing when I felt your comm. But you came to get me, so you know how to do time travel, right?”
“Not exactly. Here’s the problem, you went northwest, trying to reach Reno. I went southeast, planning to make two or even three jumps to reach Houston because I didn’t want to overshoot the city. I intended to start from the same place you did, but then I went into the past before I got there. If direction is some sort of absolute thing then I’d have gone into the future, but I didn’t. I went into the past just like you, except not as far. I think the first teleport established a direction for e
ach of us, and we have to reverse that to get back home.
“From what you’ve told me, our friend Sarah and her people seemed pretty unfamiliar with the US government. You also said they didn’t have metal cooking pots or much of anything else made of metal, correct?”
“Right, they talked about California, but I don’t think it was like what we know. They only seemed to know about two towns, and those are cities in our time. They’d never heard of Reno or Las Vegas either.”
“That means you were farther back in the past than I was. I don’t know that it’s possible to go into the future. There are too many choices, too many decisions that people haven’t made. I don’t even know that there is a real future yet. Maybe there are only possibilities. The past is different, because the choices were made that brought us to where we were before we went back in time.
“Anyway, what this means is that we’re going to have to split up. You need to go east, toward Houston, to reverse your trip into the past. I need to go west toward Reno. I don’t think it will be a problem, because we’ll be going the same distance with each teleport, but since we’ll be going different directions we can’t be together all the time. If I haven’t commed you within an hour or two after you teleport, just sit tight and wait. I’ll find you.”
“I don’t like the idea of separating, but I guess it’s no different than when I was alone before. I was all by myself after I left Sarah’s tribe, so if I’m alone again I’ll be okay.”
“Worst case, Libby, if anything happens to me you’ve got your bubble to protect you. You also know how to find your way back to our home time. If we get separated and I haven’t found you within a day, make your own way home. Just keep going southeast, one short teleport at a time, and try to contact someone after each jump.”
“I don’t like that idea, Ray. I know about the bubble, but I feel safer when you’re with me.”
“I don’t expect problems. We’re together here, we’re going to be together again after each complete cycle. Anyway, let’s get started. I’ll levitate now and head for the Sandias while you wait here. As soon as I get there, I’ll build a bonfire you can use for a target. You watch for that. When you see my fire, form your bubble and levitate up a few hundred feet. That’s just for safety, so neither of us accidentally runs into the other one when I teleport here. I don’t know that it can happen, but there’s no reason to take chances. As soon as I’m back, I’ll comm you.
“We’ll take it very slow until we learn if the laws that govern time travel are the way I think they are. The worst that can happen is that you wait a while, then go on alone.”
Ray levitated and was soon on his way toward the Sandias. Libby looked a little worried when he left, but she’d be all right. It would only take a few minutes after he built the bonfire before she’d teleport in, and as soon as he teleported back to Mount Taylor they could speak to each other telepathically. She could then join him using levitation, remaining in communication all the way.
Gathering wood, Ray lit a small fire, then fed in larger pieces. The fire was soon blazing high and there was enough wood to keep it burning for an hour or longer.
#
“Tom, I hope my notes were helpful to you. At any rate, I’ll begin the full power test later this evening. Would you like to be present when I do that? I believe I can promise you quite a show.”
“I hope it won’t be as dangerous as the demonstration in your lab, Nikola. The tower is much more powerful, hence much more dangerous.”
“I don’t anticipate a problem, Tom. The planning has been extensive and each step is well documented. My workers have inspected each connection, searched through the tunnels for damage or water seepage, and I used my instruments to test for continuity in the wiring. I did that for each of the coils, the primary and secondary of the Tesla transformer and also the one in the antenna. I’ll file for patent protection as soon as the test has been completed. Everything is ready.”
“I’ll be there, Nikola. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
#
The storm had blown in from Alaska, down the Pacific coast until it reached California. From there it had turned east, meeting a low pressure region over Arizona. This had caused flooding in Arizona and western New Mexico, then the fast-moving weather complex had pushed north into Oklahoma. Tornadoes followed the heavy clouds into Kansas, then across Missouri and finally into Illinois. Weather patterns there had pushed it south again, this time into Kentucky and Virginia.
The clouds had weakened by this time; only a small amount of rain fell in the Chesapeake as the storm moved offshore. There, it met the warm waters of the Gulf Stream, gaining strength as it moved up the coast.
Marconi’s new transmitter was used to send a message from a ship at sea to New Jersey. Flags were raised, warning fishermen and sailors of dangerous weather offshore. Some battened down their boats and went ashore, waiting out the coming storm at home or in their favorite pub. After all, what could be safer? Some of those pubs had been there for more than fifty years. They’d seen storms before, and they’d still be there when this one turned east over the Atlantic and blew itself out.
#
The scout spotted the fire near the top of the mountains. Puzzled, he called a warning to the rest of his party. He waited while the other men went to ground, concealed in folds of land. It was the ancient way of the Apache, always outnumbered but seldom outfought. They waited in their chosen place of concealment as the scout watched the flickering light.
The light began fading, so the scout slipped back to the others. Materializing from concealment, they gathered around. What had the scout discovered?
“Someone has built a fire on the mountain. The place is sacred to the dwellers in mud houses, but they do not go there at the end of the day.”
The nominal leader of this band, chosen by simple agreement among the others, waited politely to see if anyone would speak. Finally, he mentioned softly, “The pale people do not accept our beliefs. They have built houses where the bones of our people lie. They make war upon our women and children, taking from our families those who became Apache after we took them from the people who dig in the ground. They have killed us, even as we ate the sheep and the horses we captured from them. They are truly our enemies, even though they have fought the other pale-skins who came here first. They are gone now, the men in clothing of metal, but we remain. They kill us, but our brothers find them and our women test their courage in the fire. We remain in this land as we have always done. It is our land, taken from the Comanche and the dwellers in dirt houses, held by our own strength against those who have come here to dig the metal from the mountains.
“I say that if there is a camp of the pale ones on the mountain sacred to the people in dirt houses, we should kill them. They are enemies, and we are Apache.”
Finally one of the older men spoke. He too had waited politely to be heard, as was the way of the people. “Will the dwellers in the dirt houses they call pueblos fight to hold their sacred mountains?”
“We are the Apache. The mountain of white is our home, the place where our gods first came to tell us the way. Shall we now wait for the others to act, the men who do not fight the pale ones? Shall we stand politely by while they wri
ng their hands as their sacred land is profaned by the pale men who know not our gods? Or shall we remember that we are warriors, not women? The pale ones are our enemies, and if the fire is there so that the dirt-house pueblo dwellers may warm themselves, then they have forgotten their own gods. I say we kill them. We shall take their weapons and if they have women and children we shall take them too. The women shall learn the way of the Apache and the children shall become Apache as others have done. I say we attack the ones who make a fire on the sacred mountain.”
The band waited to see if another might wish to speak, but no one did.
Finally, the leader turned and trotted up the mountain, seeking animal trails to make the journey easier. Apaches had learned to follow those paths, not least because they might encounter a deer or bear. Sometimes they had slipped up on an elk, grazing in a meadow. Then the tribe had eaten very well. But the elk were scarce now, the deer only a little less so. Only the trails remained.
The remaining warriors followed their leader. High above them, the bonfire west of South Sandia Peak flickered as it burned lower.
Slipping cautiously up to the clearing where the fire burned, the Apaches waited for a moment. A faint hoot of a great horned owl was answered by another call. The war leader, understanding that there was no one here, stepped into the open. Warily he looked about; despite the calls indicating that no enemy was present, his people had learned that wariness was life. They ate the animals that forgot that elementary lesson.
Moving closer to the fire, he looked for tracks. Someone had been here, someone who wore boots made by the people in the old town the Spanish had built. Where had he gone? The boots that left the fresh tracks were too large to be a woman. What was a man doing here?
A superstitious thrill ran up his back, causing the hair on his arms to stir. Had a shaman built this mysterious fire where no person was to be found?
