“Not that kind of conjurer,” Crowley replied. “I thought you told me you’d read my books.”
“Just the good parts,” she replied. “I wanted to find out how to get a millionaire. Thought I had it when Mr. Dreiser wanted to take me home, but I found out on the way over here that he doesn’t have any money. Then we were at Hearst’s place and I thought it might’ve worked out after all. You don’t have any cash, do you? I’ll need to get home later.”
Crowley frowned at her. “I thought you were from an established family,” he accused her.
“They’re established all right,” she explained. “Established down at the race track. I have a whole file of characters I can play as the need arises. Learned it at Mrs. Habersham’s place when she needed a girl to dress up as Rebecca of Sunnybrook.”
“Let’s go see if there’s any need to help Tesla,” he spoke to her. Right now, he wanted to get away from any space that reminded him of Babalon.
“If that was an angel,” Anita spoke, as she looked at the empty space next to her, “it’s not like any of the ones I heard about in the bible.” Anita continued to stare at the emptiness next to her.
Garvey was gone, but they could hear Hearst on the telephone in the office. Whoever built the office saw no need to put a door on it, or perhaps it had one and they’d taken it off. In any event, Crowley could hear Hearst as he pleaded with someone on the other end of the phone line. He shouted the responses, but Crowley didn’t think it was due to lack of transmission.
“It’s his wife,” Tesla spoke to them in a low voice. “I believe she found out about his private room.”
Hearst emerged from the office with a red face. He knew the others overhead his strained conversation.
“I have to leave,” he told them. “Right away. Saving the world will have to wait until tomorrow. But don’t you worry; I’ll see what I can do. I’ll have an account set up so that anything we need is sent here.” He walked through the slit left in the open sliding door in the front of the factory. A few seconds later they heard the sound of the Packard fade in the distance.
“We may have even less time than I thought,” Tesla said as he worked through some calculations on his design table. “I’ll need to test the enhanced motor on the rocket before we can use it.”
“Won’t that make a lot of noise?” Crowley asked him. “Where did you test it the last time?”
“Right here,” the inventor responded. “It won’t make as much noise as you might think. As I said, this isn’t a chemical rocket motor. It’s far less noisy.”
Garvey was on his way back to the lodge hall when he noticed the men following him.
It was the first time he’d taken this route. New York was a difficult town to avoid people. No close countryside if you became tired of the city life. No places to sail out to, although the ocean was to the east. The only people who could use these ports paid for the dock access. You needed to go further up to Long Island to find the sort of place an ordinary man could sail. Even those were dominated by the bored rich and their yachts.
He didn’t need to turn to see if they gained on him. Garvey could hear the sound of their footsteps. He prayed it was only his money they wanted. One of his constant fears was to end up like the people in the west. He’d watched the parade against that terror and heard stories of what happened. This might be Gotham and good government, but he felt the savage eyes on him at all times. When people had nothing else in their lives, they could always summon hate.
Now the steps were less than a block away. If he increased his pace, he might be able to make the intersection of the street ahead. He wasn’t certain of the neighborhood. It was mostly industrial. Even a shop open at night might be a refuge. Still, it was not something that he could count on, as he’d heard stories of people in the Oklahoma riots who begged stores to stay open for them, only to meet with locked doors.
The streetlights were ahead when he heard the footsteps break and run in his direction. Before he could launch himself forward, Garvey found himself surrounded by four figures.
They had scarfs over their faces, but he could tell all of them were young, no more than sixteen. He could also see they were of the same background as he. How was it that the poor and dispossessed always pulled each other down? Was it always so?
“Give us your money!” the ringleader demanded. He shoved a knife into Garvey’s face to show he meant what he said.
Garvey reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a wad of cash he kept just for these incidents. Better to be live pauper than to go down dead while trying to protect your money.
The kid in front of him grabbed the roll and looked it over. “You got more,” he growled at Garvey. “Lot’s more. I’ve seen you people from the islands. All you have money hidden in your shoes. Let’s see it.”
Garvey was about to protest when the robbers were lit by headlights from a car. They scattered in all directions. Garvey was left alone as the car slowed down and came to a stop.
Tesla was outside smoking a cigarette. He hated these things, and yet they were one of the few reliefs he had from the stress his mind created. He didn’t want anyone to know he enjoyed his tobacco, so he tried to keep it private. He suspected everyone knew.
He took another drag on the cigarette and let the smoke flow through his lungs. He calmed a bit and tried to think about the last set of calculations he’d done. Soon, it would be dark and he could haul out the telescope to take better readings. Since Crowley and that woman were here, they could help him. It should take him an hour to find out what he needed to know and another hour to make the final computations. Then he would be sure.
He doubted there was any way to stop the asteroid from striking earth. Some intelligence was behind the course changes of it, he was sure. There was no other way to account for the movements and alterations. Celestial objects followed a specific pattern unless something interfered with them. Someone or something was pushing this asteroid in the direction of Earth.
It had to be the war. The force behind the asteroid knew most of the scientific powers were preoccupied in the European War and wouldn’t have time to track unknown objects that appeared in the sky.
The only reason that earth wasn’t already a burned-out hulk was whatever limited the intelligence behind the asteroid. Tesla often wondered what might be out there in the endless void of space. It was foolishness to assume they would be benign. Perhaps the inhabitants of Tasmania assumed the British were good and meant the best when the first explorers arrived. For all their generosity, almost none of them remained.
The very same thing could take place on Earth, he reasoned. It didn’t have to come from Mars, the universe was vast and the invasion could originate from anywhere.
However, it appeared the invaders decided to forego occupation. The asteroid would eliminate any threat they might encounter from humanity. The earth would not be inhabitable for millennia.
This could be the very thing the outsiders intended.
An Earth devoid of human or any other life would be an Earth an expanding empire would never have to worry about. In one, precise strike, they would spare themselves the trouble of a rival. It was a chilling prospect, but one that had taken place before in human history.
Earth was about to become Carthage for the Roman conquerors from beyond the stars.
His rocket, should it work, could destroy this asteroid. Would there be more if this one failed to reach its target?
Still, he had to try. To go down and admit defeat was never something he considered. If he could demonstrate to the world what happened from outside the sun’s orbit. Humanity would be forced to put aside its wars and unite to protect itself from this ever happening again.
At least, this was his hope.
Chapter 10
Wednesday 4/4/1917
Garvey’s complaint to the cops didn’t generate much interest from them. The desk sergeant looked up with amusement the moment he walked into the station.
“Lose your way?” he asked the Jamaican with a veiled sneer. “Harlem is that direction.” He pointed back out the door.
“I was robbed by four youths last night,” he told him, “the policeman outside said I should make a report to you.”
“Certainly,” the policeman said as he pulled out a logbook. “It’s not the first time I’ve encountered a robbery from a colored man and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
Garvey bit down on his tongue and didn’t say a word. This was more than he could take. He could stand here and submit to this indignation or leave. Since he knew nothing would come of his complaint, he turned and left.
The officer outside watched him go. “That was fast,” he told Garvey. “What happened?”
“Your sergeant seems to think that it’s not a big issue for a black man to be robbed.” He stuttered at the officer.
His stutter was an issue he’d fought to overcome for years. Sometimes it came back. When he was under a great deal of stress, it would manifest itself.
“I wouldn’t let it trouble you,” the cop spoke. “He’s like that to everyone who comes in there. Called a Catholic priest a mackerel snapper to his face the other day. Not much, you can do about it. He got the job from some friends down at Tammany Hall.”
“This town is changing,” Garvey told the cop. “Someday he’ll pay for the way he’s treated people.”
“Probably won’t happen in my lifetime. However, you never know. File a complaint further down in another district. Did the crooks take much?”
“They never touched my pride,” Garvey responded. “No one can place a finger on that.” He continued on his way back to the old factory where Tesla worked to prevent the destruction of the world.
The men at the lodge put him up last night. They were good enough to give him a place to sleep after the attempted robbery. From what he understood, this was a common thing they did for brothers visiting out of town. They promised to arrive today around noon and send people over for each shift. He prayed they could do it. Those glassy-eyed white men who were wandering around the outside of the entrance to the former factory worried him.
Garvey saw a newspaper boy, not more than eight years of age, selling papers on the corner. Usually, one or two patrons would stand next to them and read the headlines before they decided which one to buy. Today was different, there had to be about twenty people crowded around the vendor.
Garvey found out why the moment he could see the headlines of the newspaper.
In huge letters, the words “United States At War With Germany” was spelled out.
Tesla was awake.
He’d made himself some strong coffee and sat down with another cigarette. He’d slept the night on a cot in the office, barely registering when Crowley and the woman left the building. He had no idea where they went, but Aleister called out to him. He swore both would return in the morning. At least Tesla had a small stove in the office to keep warm through the night. It was warm enough in the daytime not to need one, but, in early spring, it could still be deadly cold in New York City.
He staggered out into the back of the factory with a sack in his left hand. Once he reached the makeshift bench he’d placed there two months ago, Tesla sat down.
They were waiting for him. His true friends knew when he’d arrive each day. They were the only ones he trusted. If not for them, he’d let the asteroid strike the earth and destroy it with the rest of humanity. However, he couldn’t bear to see his friends burned to nothingness when the asteroid collided with Earth. For them, he would prevent the world’s destruction.
The first of them flew up to his feet and sat down. He waited until the rest were in place before he opened up the burlap sack. Tesla didn’t want any one of them to be fed before the others. That would show favoritism and he loved all his friends.
Tesla opened the sack and reached inside it. He withdrew a handful of the seed mix. This was a special one designed to keep his friends healthy. He’d spent days calculating the right sort of food for them.
The inventor stood up and cast the seeds on the ground. He did this repeatedly until he’d spread out his regimented allotment for the morning. When done, Tesla sat back down and watched them feast.
The pigeons were busy pecking at the last of the seeds when he heard Crowley return with the woman. He stood up and walked back to the front of the old factory. It was time to get back to work again and save the world.
He’d met this colony of pigeons the day he’d moved into the factory. The owner offered an extermination service to clean out the roosts on top of the building. Tesla told him it wasn’t necessary, he could do the job himself. Over the first few months he’d lived in the factory, Tesla made friends with the birds. He became their benefactor. When it was too cold, he would check on them and see to it they had enough heat on the roof to survive. He fed them twice a day. In return, he was rewarded by their anxious eyes each time he walked out with the feed sack. They were the closest thing he had to a family.
When he discovered the celestial object headed toward Earth, he was surrounded by pigeons. It was for them he was determined to stop it, no matter what the odds.
Garvey had to wait a bit to buy a paper. Several white patrons pushed him aside to get at the newspaper stand. It was a mob, although he was part of it. Still, he wanted to get a copy of the paper and read about the congressional decision. He speculated on who had opposed the act and who voted for it. It took him a bit to remember what the conditions under which Congress could declare war.
He’d made a study of the American government before he traveled to New York. It impressed him that they’d tossed off the British yoke a century before he was born. Jamaican was still a crown colony with an entire history of slavery behind it. The American South had a slave history as well. In fact, much of the colonial USA was built with slave labor, a minor fact people didn’t like to remember. Even some of the northern colonies had slaves, although they abolished slavery before the American Revolution. Garvey noted these were places that those hauled from Africa died the quickest. Let them pretend they’d eliminated human bondage for moral reasons. In truth, there would’ve been slave markets in Gotham for a long time if the people they sold had lasted through the winter.
He stopped for a few more minutes and read the front page. There it was, a formal declaration of war. The reasons were numerous, but he noted the telegram intercepted from German to Mexico early in the year was a prominent feature. He wondered if the telegram was real, it had the feel of something the British spy services would attempt. Combine it with the very real sinking of that passenger liner by a German submarine, and you had a toxic combination of war fever and anger.
This was one of Hearst’s papers, Garvey noted, as he looked it over. He admired the fine typesetting and print job. He’d trained as a printer himself and still planned to bring out his own newspaper when he had the opportunity.
Why would anyone try to push for a war that only served to kill the maximum amount of soldiers on each side? He thought to himself and tried to figure it out.
It was to stop humanity from noticing the approach of the asteroid. With much of the planet fighting against each other, no one would have time to notice the celestial object headed toward a collision with Earth. By the time anyone saw it in the sky, it would be too late. Sure, there might be other astronomers who watched the heavens. They might notice, but no one would listen to them. The entire war was a fog designed to keep humanity from knowing about the real threat it faced.
How many times before has this happened? Garvey wondered. What wars or conflicts in history took place to hide up other transgressions?
Tesla couldn’t find Crowley, and that woman he was with, when he walked around to the front of the brick building. He was about to go inside and search for them when the sound of a car attracted his attention.
Tesla turned around to see Hearst’s Packard roll into the vacant lot in front of the factory. At one time, teams of men wou
ld gather here looking for work each day. This hadn’t taken place in years. The factory was outdated when it closed. He heard rumors from people nearby that the owners planned to cancel his lease when it came up. They would make more money if the building was demolished. Tesla didn’t really care; he could always find another place to do his experiments. Right now, he wasn’t concerned. The entire world would be gone if didn’t get that rocket up in the air and explode it on the surface of the asteroid.
The car came to a stop. The driver, the same one Hearst had employed for the past five years, opened his door. He came out and opened the one for his boss.
Hearst appeared a bit more relaxed today. He pulled out a cigar and lit it while the driver helped the other passenger out of the car.
It was a woman again. This one was new to him. Tesla learned yesterday about the woman in the swing in Hearst’s secret apartment floor. This had to be the one they’d talked about. She resembled the woman he’d heard them discuss.
“Nikola,” Hearst spoke to him. “This is Miss Marion Davis. I brought her with me today because I didn’t think it safe to leave her behind.”
Even Tesla was taken back by her looks. She was slight but smaller than the other woman they brought into the factory the previous day. He noted she didn’t offer a hand, which meant Hearst had told her what to do and say when she met him.
The woman seemed to exude a presence that Tesla couldn’t fathom. Like the last one, she seemed too young to have a lot of practical world experience. There was innocence about her.
“Find her something to do,” Tesla told the publisher. “We’ll need all the help we can get. Marcus showed up an hour ago. He tells me the men from the lodge will soon be here. Perhaps she can help them in some way.”
Tesla looked at the men that were milling around the front of the gates. “I see they are back,” Tesla commented. “We’ll need those guards.”
The Apocalypse Four: 93 Million Miles To Gotham Page 10
