Tesla's Stepdaughters

by Wesley Allison

  Chapter Six: Bolingbrook

  Andrews ordered a taxi and rode with Ep!phanee back to the American, where the rest of the band and entourage had stayed. Once she was safely under the protection of the Chicago Police Department, and after he had made a quick stop at his own room to shave and change, he took the same cab back to the international building and met up with Agent Wright and the team.

  Two of the local agents were working in the office, coordinating with other Science Police teams who were investigating possible threats in cities around the globe. Andrews and Wright, each taking one of the local agents with them, set out to determine the veracity of threats in the Chicago area. Wright and her temporary partner Agent Finnegan were to investigate the source of some anti-lesbian letters, while Andrews and Agent Loginova were looking into a woman who had sent several long, rambling quasi-religious, anti-rock and roll letters. Downstairs in the garage, Andrews bid farewell to Wright and followed Loginova to the large black Packard Clipper.

  “You know the area better,” he said, as he climbed into the passenger seat, aware that many women didn’t trust male drivers.

  Loginova was a tough looking woman of five foot eight. She had the body of an athlete, and while her face was attractive, it boasted several scars that said she could take a beating as well as give one. Her burgundy-dyed hair was cut into an unusual bob, very high on the back of her head and featuring bangs that came to a point in the middle, just above her nose, rather than being cut straight across.

  The last known residence of Miss Athena Kesting was in Bolingbrook, which with traffic took almost forty minutes to reach. The quaint little village was covered by a large glass and steel dome to protect residents from the acrid smoke and acid rain that was the bane of the Midwest. The address in question proved to be huge house on a large, fenced estate.

  “Not what I was expecting,” commented Loginova, as she pulled the car up the driveway, past extensive gardens.

  The two agents parked and got out. On either side of the front door were life-sized marble statues of women in long flowing dresses. Andrews knocked, using the brass door knocker, and when the door opened, he was surprised to find a woman who was the spitting image of the statue on the left.

  “Good morning,” said Loginova, showing her badge. “We would like to speak to Miss Athena Kesting.”

  “Oh. She doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “Can you give us her forwarding address?”

  “Won’t you come in please?”

  The two agents entered a home that was as opulent inside as the outside had hinted. Passing through a foyer covered in rich wood paneling, they entered a stunningly decorated living room and sat down on a beautiful antique sofa. Two other women were seated when they came in, but both rose to their feet.

  “Inga, would you ask Mr. Larkin to come down?” asked the woman with whom they had entered. “My husband will very much want to speak with you.”

  A few minutes later, the gentleman in question entered the room. He was an average looking man, wearing casual though expensive clothes. He was slightly balding, something that he had chosen not to try to cover up by combing his hair over.

  “Good Morning,” he said, shaking hands with both agents. “I’m Evan Larkin, and these are my wives Elke Lom-Larkin, Angelina Redmond-Larkin, and Inga Lom-Larkin.”

  “Agent Andrews, and this is Agent Loginova.”

  “So what can we do for you,” Larkin asked sitting down across from them. Elke sat to his right, while Angelina and Inga stood behind them.

  “They are here about Athena,” said Elke

  “Oh yes. Well, no surprises there. She was a troubled girl, I’m afraid.”

  “What was your relationship with Miss Kesting?” asked Andrews.

  “We were engaged. My wives thought that she might fit in with us here, so she moved in for a trial period. I’m afraid it was not to be, though. She left, what has it been now? Six months ago.”

  “Do you have a forwarding address?”

  “Inga will find that for you. May I ask why you are looking for her?”

  “I’m afraid we can’t say. It involves an ongoing investigation.”

  “I see. Well, it’s no stretch of the imagination that it involves Athena’s strong feelings. She was brought up in a very religious community in Idaho.”

  “They were very strict adherents to morality and believers in a patriarchal lifestyle,” said Elke. “That’s why we thought she might fit in here.”

  “And you are all adherents to a patriarchal lifestyle?” asked Loginova.

  “Not really,” replied Elke. “We’re more of a pragmatic family. We just thought that having grown up that way, Athena would fit in. It just didn’t work out. She was far too inflexible.”

  “She thought that everyone had to believe the way she did,” added Angelina.

  Andrews felt rather than saw Loginova cast a glance in his direction.

  “Would you ladies mind if I spoke to Agent Andrews alone in my study?” asked Larkin.

  Not waiting for a reply, he stood up and started for a door in the back of the room. He turned to see that Andrews was following him, and said, “Inga will get that forwarding address for you, Agent Loginova.”

  The study was a spacious room with large windows looking out over a huge swimming pool and beautiful lawn behind the house. There was a large cherry wood desk near the back of the room and shelves filled with books along the wall.

  “Would you like a drink?” asked Larkin.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Have you had a drink yet?”

  Andrews grunted noncommittally.

  “I was off the enclave for over a year before I took a drink. When was the last time you were there?”

  “A little less than a year ago. I flew back to see some friends.”

  “I haven’t been back in almost four years,” said Larkin, pouring himself a scotch. “I moved out six years ago.”

  “And now you’re here, with three wives.”

  “Five wives. Mia and Susie are taking care of the kids. We have five boys and three girls.”

  “And how do you find married life?”

  “It’s a challenge. I lived in a dorm right up until the time I left the enclave, but it’s not really like that. Women are… different. I’ve got it worked out now, I think.”

  “The women aren’t jealous?”

  “Oh God yes. But I’m strictly a family man. I don’t stray. I don’t look for new wives. If they want to add one, I let them work out the details. Of course Elke and Inga are sisters so they were used to sharing, and Mia was their friend. This was sort of a way to make her their sister too. They picked Susie and Angelina. I had final approval of course. That was the way with Athena too. They all liked her, but I just didn’t click with her. She was a bit too strange for me. So she left.”

  “It’s a very nice house.”

  “Yes, three lawyers in the family. Elke, Inga, and Angelina own their own law firm.”

  “Do you work?”

  “I’ve been trying to write a book, but so far I haven’t gotten very far.”

  “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Larkin.”

  “Call me Evan. You’re not leaving already are you?”

  “I’m afraid I have to. We have an investigation to see to.”

  “It’s just that I haven’t talked to another man in six months.”

  “Let me give you my card.” Andrews fished out one of his business cards and handed it to the man. “You can call me.”

  “Did you get the address?” he asked when they got back in the car.

  “Yes. Back to the city.”

  They drove out the dome entrance and through the grey planes toward smoke-covered central Chicago. Andrews took in the old, dead factories that lined the road. They were almost halfway back before Agent Loginova spoke.

  “I suppose we can expect to see more families as more people like you… I mean more men, move back north.”

 
“I suppose.”

  “I don’t think I would mind living like that. What I mean is, I don’t think I would mind sharing.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Do you have plans for dinner?”

  “Um, I don’t know about dinner. Why don’t we grab some lunch though before we track down Kesting. Have you ever had a hotdog?”

  Agent Loginova, it turned out, was a hot dog aficionado and took Andrews to a small drive-in restaurant called Sheila’s Red Hots, where she bought him a dog and an order of fries. Afterwards they drove to the northwest side of the city and found the location they had been given as Athena Kesting’s new residence. It was a nondescript apartment building on West Gunnison. They found the designated apartment just steps away from the elevator on the sixth floor. They took a position on either side of the door. Andrews knocked.

  “Who is it?” came a woman’s voice from inside, not a friendly sounding voice.

  “Science Police,” called Loginova.

  There was a series of tremendously loud reports and the wood of the door splintered as bullets cut through it.

  “Shit!” cried Loginova. Andrews saw blood on her face.

  “Are you hit?” Andrews was drawing his pistol as he spoke. It started to whine even though he hadn’t consciously turned on the power.

  “No. Go!”

  Andrews stepped back and kicked the door nearly off its hinges. He rushed through the doorway and to the right. Loginova entered just behind him. They were just in time to see a person on the other side of the window, starting down the fire escape.

  “Go around back,” called Andrews. “I’m after her.”

  He stepped out the window to hear and feel two more shots ricocheting off the metal railing. He aimed downward and fired. Unlike the traditional weapon being used against him, his coil gun didn’t make a loud report. It didn’t fire bullets by a chemical reaction forcing expanding gasses forward. It fired tiny iron flechettes, propelled by an extremely powerful electromagnet. When he pulled the trigger, the gun went silent, only to begin a low whine again as the solenoid charged. It was a weapon that only Science Police Agents carried. All this, Andrews knew from his academy training, but he gave no more thought to it now than he gave to the mechanics of his own feet negotiating the metal stairs of the fire escape, which he now raced down.

  The fugitive woman reached the ground, turned, and fired twice more. Andrews ducked back, but as soon as she started to run again, he raced down two more flights and then hopped over the railing to drop the last ten feet. He ran after her and quickly closed the gap. When she turned the corner of the building, he could see Loginova coming toward them from the back entrance.

  “Freeze lady!” he shouted.

  The woman stopped so suddenly it did indeed seem like she was frozen. Then she spun around. Andrews kept his weapon trained on her, though she made no effort to take aim at him.

  “I’m sorry… I…”

  “Drop the gun!”

  “I… I never would have… I never would have shot at you if I had only known.”

  “Drop the gun.”

  The woman dropped the gun, just in time for Loginova to grab her hands, pull them behind her back, and then cuff her.

  Two hours later they were back at the Grace Coolidge international building with their prisoner in an interrogation room. Loginova had a bandage across her cheek where it had been cut by flying splinters from the door. She paced back and forth across the small room, while Andrews sat across from Miss Kesting.

  “You are Athena Kesting, are you not?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never would have shot at you if I knew you were a man.”

  “Why did you shoot anyway? We identified ourselves as Science Police.”

  “Yes, you did. You’re part of the world government—tool of the beast.”

  Andrews stared blankly at her.

  “She’s talking about the Book of Revelation.”

  “I know, but I’ve read it and I don’t remember anything about a world government.”

  “Revelation 13! The beast from the sea with ten crowns!”

  “They taught us in Sunday School that the beast with the ten crowns was a reference to Rome and the first ten emperors, and that the beast from the land was Nero, who persecuted the Christians.”

  “Whoever taught you that was the false prophet, who is the servant of the beast!”

  “I’m done,” said Andrews getting up. “See what you can find out about the Ladybugs?”

  He stepped out of the room, closing the door after him, and watched through the two-way mirror as Loginova took his seat to continue the interview. Wright entered through the other door.

  “Interesting interview?” she asked.

  “Not so far.”

  “I heard you popped your cherry.”

  “What?”

  “You got shot at.”

  “Oh. No big deal.”

  “I also heard you spent the night with a certain blue-haired siren.” She punched him on the arm. “Did she let you see all of her tattoos?”

  He looked at his partner for a moment and then grinned. “Yes, I think I saw them all.”

  “You know she’s the main reason women get tattoos. She was the forerunner, the trendsetter, whatever you want to call it. I didn’t get mine until I saw her back piece on the cover of Culture Magazine.”

  “You have a tattoo?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got a tattoo of a coil gun on my shoulder?”

  “A coil gun?”

  “Why, were you expecting a butterfly?”

  Loginova came out of the interrogation room.

  “This is pretty pointless. I don’t even think she knows the Ladybugs are in town.”

  “All right. Hold her on weapons and assault charges,” said Andrews. He then turned back to Wright. “Any luck on your end?”

  “No, it’s all a wash. Pretty much as I figured. They were well down on the list—just a bunch of lezzie-haters who have nothing to do besides write letters.”

  Chapter Seven: Atlanta

  At ten o’clock the following morning, the airship Rosalie Morton rose up from the field at O’Hare and made a slow, majestic turn toward the south. She would make a quick trip to Atlanta, arriving just before 2:30 local time. Andrews was seated at his tiny desk in his very small cabin, completing the extensive reports that had to be filed anytime a Science Police agent fired his weapon. A knock at the door brought him to his feet even though the door opened before he had a chance to reach for the handle. Ep!phanee stepped inside. She had to press up against him in order to close the door behind her.

  “Hello stranger,” she said.

  “Hardly a stranger. We saw each other half an hour ago.”

  “Yes but we weren’t alone. I missed you.”

  “I missed you too.”

  “What’s more, my clownfish misses you.”

  Sometime later, after the coral reef dweller in question had renewed his acquaintance, Andrews lay on the small single bunk in his room. Piffy was draped over him like a blanket, her skin separated from his only by a thin layer of perspiration.

  “So what is the fascination with sea life—the whole aquatic motif?”

  “I like fish and the coral reef. When I’m home on Thatch Cay I go snorkeling almost every day. Sometimes I go spear fishing.”

  “Thatch Cay?”

  “Yes, that’s the island we own.” She giggled. “I managed to say that almost like it’s a normal thing—we own an island.”

  “You all live there?”

  “Well, we all have houses there. Agave Studio is there. Then there’s an old fishing village I had fixed up as the port for our boats. And I had my beach renovated—two hundred barges full of rocks and debris hauled away, the sand sifted, and several rows of palm trees planted back from the shoreline. But until a couple of months ago, I was the only one there besides the caretakers and their families. Steffie and Penny were both in Europe and Ruth was staying with her mother in St
. Croix.”

  Andrews was quiet for a moment. “Really? Spear fishing?”

  “Sure.” She climbed off of him and began putting her clothes back on. “You know that island is why we got back together.”

  “How so?”

  “Oh, we were all fighting about recordings and copyrights and who was going to be the band’s manager, but when it came to selling our joint assets, Thatch Cay was first on the list and nobody wanted to let go of it. Penny and I got together after not speaking for a couple of years to figure out what to do with it, and we ended up in the studio together.”

  “Then the world owes Thatch Cay a debt of gratitude.” He sat up and folded his hands behind his head. “I hope we get a chance to sneak out for dinner tonight or maybe tomorrow. I hear they have a very famous hotdog restaurant in Atlanta.”

  “That’s not going to be possible I’m afraid.” Now dressed in her tee shirt and mini skirt, Piffy wobbled like a stilt walker as she put her feet into her platform sandals. “We have some planning to do for the show this evening, and I want you to spend tomorrow with Ruth.”

  “Ruth? Why?”

  “She’s nice. She’s pretty.”

  “I know she’s nice. She’s famous for being ‘the nice one’, and I think she’s beautiful. But we’re hitting it off so well, I thought we could spend some time together.”

  “We are hitting it off and we’ll spend more time together, but if I have a man it’s just not right that I don’t share him with my best friends. It’s not like we come across men every day.”

  “There are men… around,” he sputtered. “What are you going to do, loan me out like one of your guitars?”

  “Don’t be stupid. I wouldn’t loan Ruth my guitar… maybe my Dreadful, but not my Rickenbacker. Anyway, she can’t play guitar for shit. Besides, you should be loving this. Men are supposed to be like that. You all make your monthly donations willingly enough don’t you? You’re supposed to be… what’s that word that you are?”

  “Promiscuous?”

  “Horny. That’s it.”