Where the Hell is Tesla? A Novel

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Where the Hell is Tesla? A Novel Page 17

by Rob Dircks

Here it’s different. Time passes. Food. Sleep. Man, you never really appreciate stuff until you go without. Nothing like an oversize cheeseburger and a shake, followed immediately by hours and hours of blissful slumber. Yeah. That shit rocks.

  But waking up is tough. (I know, what else is new.) I’m just not a morning person, but that’s my right, right? And these military people are all about waking up before the goddam rooster crows at like four-thirty in the morning.

  Like this morning. They couldn’t wait until eleven a.m. to get us fitted for our super-slick biker uniforms (which are awesome, btw.) It had to be oh-five-hundred pre-dawn o’clock, while I’m still dreaming of me and you going down that water slide at Wet’nWild, and we go flying into the sky like birds, and then we’re in a big bright orange house, and there’s literally an elephant in the middle of the room, and – woah, man, that milkshake right before bed probably wasn’t such a good idea.

  So anyway we’re in this training area getting poked and prodded, and I look over, and I can’t help it. I see Pete and Meg whispering to each other.

  She’s crying a little. I feel bad.

  “… and I’m excited by all this, it’s beyond anything I could’ve imagined myself doing. I’m discovering things I wouldn’t have discovered in an entire lifetime. It’s not even that I’m scared. The danger is even exciting. I’m with you and that’s wonderful. And Tesla! He’s a dream.”

  “But?”

  “But that’s the problem. A dream. It doesn’t feel real. There’s this nagging feeling like I’m on hold. The time not passing in the hallway doesn’t help. It’s like real life will only start again when I’m home. Doesn’t it feel the same for you?”

  Pete nods. “Yes. Of course. But not exactly.”

  She’s confused.

  “Listen, it does feel unreal, but at the same time this is where I met you. And that’s the most real thing I’ve had in a long time. So it’s real. Here, let me prove how real it is.”

  He reaches over and pinches the skin on the back of her hand.

  “Ouch! That hurt.”

  “It hurts because it’s real.”

  I can see it, even from where I’m sitting two benches over. She wants to feel the same way. But she looks away.

  “I promise, Meg. I’ll get you home. If it’s the last thing I do.”

  She half-smiles. “I know you will.”

  From: Chip Collins

  To: Julie Taylor

  Date: June 4, 2015 5:43am

  Re: Five minutes without shit exploding

  Hi Julie,

  Knock-knock.

  Knock-knock.

  Knock-knock.

  (This isn’t a knock-knock joke. Somebody’s annoying the crap out of me knocking on the door to my barracks room, while I’m half-naked, trying to wrestle my way out of this skin-tight fucking uniform.)

  Knock-knock.

  “What the fuck?! Enough! Go away!”

  “Master Chip. It’s me, Nikola.”

  I finally jerk the pants legs off me and fall over, banging my head on the corner of the end table. “Motherfucker!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Not you! Hold on!”

  I get up, stumble to the door, rubbing my poor noggin (how many bumps can one poor guy have on his head?), and open it. “What?”

  Tesla’s never seen me in my boxers, or probably anybody in their boxers, so he shields his eyes like he’s looking directly at a white-hot nuclear blast. I close the door to a crack. “What?”

  “Chip. I know this will seem petty, but the garments. I cannot – no, I will not – wear such a thing. It holds my body in embarrassing and uncomfortable ways I never imagined.”

  “I thought you’d be into that.”

  “You really thought I’d ‘be into’ that?”

  “Nah. Of course not. You’re stuck in the forties. I get it. You got the one suit. Fits you like a glove. So why are you telling me? Go talk to our buddy Clarence.”

  “I did. He requested I talk to you.”

  “Huh. Commander Collins told you to talk to me? Okay. I’m not the boss of you. Wear whatever the fuck you want.”

  “Chip…”

  “Whatever the hell you want.”

  “Chip!”

  “Whatever the berries you want. I don’t know. Wear whatever the insert-favorite-non-swear-word-here you want. Good night.”

  I close the door. Head to the bathroom.

  Knock-knock.

  Knock-knock.

  I throw open the door. “Now what the fuck do you wa- oh, it’s you.”

  Pete’s looking around all top-secret-double-agent. “Pssst. You’re not going to believe this. I just saw – hey! Are those my boxers? Dude - you’ve been wearing my boxers this whole time?”

  “Okay, listen. Sorry. I was in your place, right before we left, and let’s just say I wasn’t exactly my freshest. So I’m like, hey we’re taking a little day trip, I should be fresh and comfortable, right? How the hell was I supposed to know we’d be in the ITA for a million years? And what – you’ve never borrowed a pair of my boxers?”

  “Are you fucking kidding?”

  “Well have you?”

  “No! Of course not! I don’t want to smell like Chip ass! Speaking of which, where’d you put your old ones before we left? Do I even want to know?”

  “In your hamper. Common courtesy when you borrow someone’s boxers.”

  “Great. Now I’m going to have to burn the whole thing. I had like three dress shirts in there too.”

  “Dude. Chicks dig my aroma. Your shirts will be fine. In fact, they just appreciated in value. Anyway, drop it. What are you here for anyway? What did you just see that I won’t believe?

  “Oh. Right. It’s Julie. She’s here.”

  From: Chip Collins

  To: Julie Taylor

  Date: June 4, 2015 5:43am

  Re: Five minutes without shit exploding

  Hi Julie,

  Yeah. I saw you last night.

  You looked great. Red hair. Black biker suit. Like Black Widow from the Avengers. Walking outside the barracks. Me and Pete followed you.

  So we’re totally like a couple of high school kids pretending to be spies, stalking you from a distance, jumping from bush to bush. Yelling and punching each other but trying to be quiet about it.

  “Shhhh!”

  “You Shhhh! Why the fuck are you making so much noise?”

  “Maybe it’s your furry foot!”

  “Why would a furry foot make noise? It’s perfectly silent. That’s just fucking mean!”

  “You’re right. Sorry. But it’s not me. You’re a klutz. You could never be a spy.”

  “I don’t want to be a spy! I just want to get a good look at Julie without her see-“

  “Hey. You guys okay?”

  Whoops. So much for first impressions. There you are, (not you you, but Alternate You) standing over me and Pete while we’re crouched in a wrestling hold behind a bush. Nice. Now that’s how Alternate Julie will picture me for the rest of her life.

  “I’m sorry. We just - I just, I thought I knew you.”

  “And you are?”

  I stand up and shake off the dirt and leaves. “Chip. Chip Collins. This is my friend Pete.”

  “Huh. You look like the Commander. But I can’t say I know you, either of you, sorry. And… could you stop looking at me like that?”

  Julie, I’m an embarrassment. I must be doing the puppy dog eyes pretty bad, I can’t even control myself. It’s just been so long since I’ve seen you. It’s incredible. You’re back!

  “Julie? It’s you, right?”

  “Sorry. Maureen. Okay, listen, Pete? Is that your name? You need to take your friend here back to his barracks. I think he’s drunk.”

  And Pete’s on it. He grabs me without a word and starts dragging me back home, while you walk away. I’m kicking and reaching back for you at this point – real classy-like. I’m surprised you didn’t turn around and laugh.

  �
��Julie! JULIE!” And then the tears come. “Bwaaaahaaahaahahahaha!” (Imagine that’s uncontrollable sobbing)

  By now Pete’s carrying me over his shoulder. “Dude. She’s gone. And quit kicking me.”

  “No! I don’t want to lose her! Not again!”

  “Shhh. Dude, it’s not her. I’m sorry. It’s some girl Maureen. Same girl, but totally different. Who knows, her parents died when she was three and they moved to Idaho. She doesn’t know you. You never met. You know the drill. Shit’s crazy. It’s not her.”

  “But…” and I’m lost again. I was so close to having you back. “You don’t know, man. You have somebody.”

  “Yeah. I have somebody. For now.”

  And I immediately stop crying and look at Pete. “Damn. You okay dude?”

  He shrugs. “Whatever. Can I put you down now without you running away?”

  27

  The Epic

  Battle for

  The Multiverse

  From: Chip Collins

  To: Julie Taylor

  Date: June 4, 2015 5:43am

  The epic battle for the multiverse (really, it’s huge)

  Hi Julie,

  WHO is on the move. He’s collapsing universes pretty regularly now (it’s easy to tell when – you feel like someone’s ripping your spine out of your body), and they’ve tracked him to a dimension he must be using as a home base or something. This place is buzzing with activity. Lots of anticipation. Something’s going to happen soon. But in the meantime, here’s a list of who’s doing what:

  Chip’s Official List of Who’s Been Doing What:

  • Tesla and Meg have been helping the engineers from Earth Fragment Five build a small, portable version of the antimatter collector/amplifier that will fit through a doorway to the ITA. I have no idea what they plan on doing with it, or how it works, but it looks awesome. Like it could definitely kick your ass sideways.

  Check.

  • Pete’s been training with Alternate Pete’s squadron on battle tactics. God, he was born for this shit. Carry a big gun, save the women and children, and look good while you’re doing it. It makes me tired just thinking about it, but good for him.

  Check.

  • Montrose is barely around. I imagine they’ve got him in some secret room, using his Jedi powers to raise a nice tomato garden or something. I mean the guy literally wouldn’t hurt a fly, so I don’t know how he’s going to beat up the bad guys. But I’m glad he’s on our side anyway.

  Check.

  • The Bobos have been hanging with me mostly, just being funny some of the time, and going into their mini-coma states the rest of the time. We have little dance contests, and of course they always win. Every once in a while, I’ll look straight into one of their eyes, looking for some deep message, but all I get is blink-blink, or “BEEZNEEZ,” or “ASSGAS.” (They like doing that last one because it cracks me up every time.)

  Anyway, Check.

  • Me? I guess they figured I was more harm than good, so they let me do whatever the hell I want. And don’t get me wrong – I’m loving it. Sleep in, video games, lunch, dance party with the Bobos, go get a smoothie, party with the officers, mounch, crash, repeat.

  Check.

  So anyway this morning we get an announcement:

  “All personnel report to field three.”

  Sounds pretty casual, right? Like it’s a pickup game of hoops. So everyone, probably around five hundred biker-suit-clad military types (but not Alternate Julie/Maureen, I notice – she probably asked for a transfer to Earth Fragment Whichever-One-Is-Farthest-Away-From-That-Chip-Guy), they make their way to the big open field off to the south of the barracks.

  The Commander’s on a little platform with a microphone. “All right people – the scouts have returned with new intel. WHO is planning an attack on this dimension, within forty-eight hours. He’s got an antimatter amplifier, and several hundred troops. We’ve got the manpower and the artillery to match that. So we’re taking the fight to him first. Starting now.”

  So much for casual. Everyone starts murmuring really loud, getting antsy. I’m playing it cool, because of course I knew something like this was coming. (Kidding. I’m practically shitting myself in terror.)

  “Before you report to your stations, though, I’d like to invite someone up to say a few words. Someone with valuable experience inside the Interdimensional Transfer Apparatus. Someone who, I’ve learned, has applied smarts, savvy, courage, and leadership in traveling the ITA, rescuing Mr. Tesla, and confronting WHO…”

  Cool. I get to hear Pete make a speech. This is gonna rock.

  “…Chip Collins.”

  What the hell? I shake my head politely and point to Pete. No thank you. Nope. Pete’s your man. But the Commander’s pretty insistent, and people are looking at me, waiting. Oh, what the hell. I jump up on the platform.

  “Hey, people of Earth Fragment Five. Of all the remaining fragments of Earth. Now I’m not known for talking a lot, but I’ll give it a go.” (Pete does that thing where you cough really loud and say “BULLSHIT!” at the same time. So I give him the finger, and of course the Bobos jump up on the platform too and start giving the finger to the crowd, their message of universal peace, and all the seriousness and solemnity of the moment goes out the window. But I forge on. I mean, how many times do I get the mic in front of five hundred people?)

  “Anyway, what we’ve seen, Pete and myself, and Nikola, and Meg, and even my two strange friends here Bobo and Bobo, what we’ve seen is incredible.

  Unbelievable.

  And yes, I’ve seen a great evil in the multiverse. Evil that must be stopped.

  But we will stop it.

  You know how I know?

  Because I’ve seen other things, too.

  I’ve seen an old man work his entire life to light the world.

  I’ve seen friends willing to die for each other.

  I’ve seen two people fall in love in the middle of chaos.

  I’ve seen sacrifice, and courage, and humor in the lowest moments.

  I’ve seen the brightest of light.

  And this light will never go out. No evil, no darkness, no shadow can live in that light for long.

  We will prevail. We will prevail, because we hold that light in our hearts.”

  Wow. Where the hell did that come from? These are battle-ready fighters, and they’re wiping back tears and cheering. And I know what Pete’s thinking: “Is that the same Chip that stole my boxers?”

  Tesla inches his way up to the platform. The crowd hushes. He pats me on the head and winks at me, then turns to the mic. “I think what master Chip is trying to say is… Let us kick some buttocks!”

  The troops erupt in the loudest laughter and cheering I’ve ever heard. And I swear, Julie, it’ll suck if all this is for nothing, if it all ends now and I never get to see you again – but at that moment?

  I actually became the perfect version of myself.

  I lean over to Commander Collins. “Thanks for that, sir.”

  He smiles. “I’ve learned a lot about you from the others. I’m impressed. And proud.”

  “So… can I call you Chip now?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  From: Chip Collins

  To: Julie Taylor

  Date: June 4, 2015 5:43am

  Re: The epic battle for the multiverse (really, it’s huge)

  Hi Julie,

  So imagine this: You’ve got like a battalion of army guys, ships, weapons, all this huge gear – and it all has to fit through a twenty-eight-inch-wide doorway.

  Okay, now stop imagining that. That’s not what happens. Commander Collins might have dickish tendencies, but he’s not an idiot. So his plan: take small teams through the ITA, all sneaky-like into WHO’s dimension, set up secret camps overnight, and storm his base in the morning with hundreds of trained fighters (and Pete). Me, Meg, Tesla and the Bobos will be bringing up the rear, and won’t see any action. Thank God.

  Oops
. Our team’s up next. Gotta go. Wish me luck.

  From: Chip Collins

  To: Julie Taylor

  Date: June 4, 2015 5:43am

  Re: The epic battle for the multiverse (really, it’s huge)

  Hi Julie,

  Something’s not right.

  I can’t think straight, and it’s dark. So dark all I can see is the phone screen.

  There’s a lot of screaming.

  I’m scared, babe.

  From: Chip Collins

  To: Julie Taylor

  Date: June 4, 2015 5:43am

  Re: The epic battle for the multiverse (really, it’s huge)

  Hi Julie,

  Somebody’s dragging me. Dragging me back into the hallway.

  “You stay put. Take care of Tesla.”

  It’s Commander Collins. Or what’s left of him. He’s bleeding real bad. Limping. Looks like he’s missing a foot. Ironic.

  He plops me next to a row of other bodies: Tesla, Meg, Alternate Pete, some others. Not sure who’s alive or dead. One of the Bobos is here, rocking back and forth, hugging his knees. The Commander turns to head back through the ITA into WHO’s dimension.

 

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