Before he succumbed to the poison, I said, “I'm simply here for your compliance.” He then collapsed on the floor.
Dorian huffed and said in a very annoyed manner, “Why did you do that?”
“Things didn't look like they were going our way. I just expedited things along,” I replied coolly.
“I daresay he would have fallen in line, if we had just given him a bit more time.”
“I think not,” I said. We stared at each other for the span of a few elongated moments. Then I said, “We have a difference of opinion, then.” I decided just then to sit in the chair he vacated earlier.
He gave me a laborious look and said, “All right, but certainly you don't expect me to carry him out do you?”
“No, I expect the other T.R.A.M. outside to do it.”
He walked to the doorway, avoiding the fallen door and broken automation, and left the vestibule. He peered out the front door and returned. He said, “How do you propose we do that and not get attacked. We are the obvious threat to Tesla, and something tells me the kill switch has been flipped to the on position on that one.”
Lucky for us, there was only one other of his T.R.A.M.s out there. Anymore more might have proven problematic for my little plan to work.
“I'm going to ask it nicely.”
···•Ͽ Ѡ Ͼ•···
Turned out the safety protocol setting overrode the kill switch, once I informed it that Tesla was in need of rescuing and that we were assisting him. It lifted him up off the floor and awaited further instructions. We decided that it would be prudent to leave Buffalo right about now. However, it might look odd if we brought him to train station in the arms of his robot, so we decided to take him into the woods outside of the city and revive him, first.
Our journey south out of the city was blissfully without incident. After walking for thirty minutes through the thickets, we reached a clearing.
Now that we were far enough from the city center, we decided to risk reviving him. Even if Tesla decided to start screaming, there was no one around of consequence that would be capable of hearing him. By best guess, he might lose some of his bravado, once his beloved automatons were removed from the equation.
I asked the T.R.A.M. to set Tesla down, explaining that we needed to get our bearings straight, and then I shot the Tram in the head and knees. It collapsed when his battery failed, and it did not straighten again.
As I reloaded my pistol, I turned to Dorian and said, “How precisely did you get Tesla to come to the cathedral.”
“I put a homing spell on the pigeon's note. He merely followed the pigeon back to the cathedral. Really, his curiosity simply got the best of him.”
Satisfied with his answer, I said, “All right, I'm going to wake him now. Make sure you have your pretty words handy when he wakes. I can't use another blue dart so soon after a yellow, to put him to sleep again, since it may damage his mind.” After depositing my pistol in my pocket, I readied my dart gun.
I blew the yellow feathered stimulant dart, and then I sat down on a nearby limb to wait for the show.
After a few tense moments, on Dorian's behalf, Tesla was slowly roused. He sat up and rubbed his head. Then he removed the yellow dart from his neck and stared at it. Next, he looked around at his surroundings. First dismay shadowed his features when his sight leveled on his fallen T.R.A.M., but then he took in a full measure Dorian and me. Dorian waited for him to get his bearings.
Much to our surprise, Nikola focused on me and started laughing, which caused Dorian and I to exchange looks of bewilderment. Did I accidentally addle his brain with my darts?
Tesla finally said, “It has been at least a hundred years since someone has duped me. My, my, Ms. Darling, what a carrot you are turning out to be.” I grimaced.
“So you aren't put out that I sedated you?” I asked tentatively. One just never knew how another would take to being stuck with a poisoned dart.
“Bah, this is just a pleasant diversion from my charted course. I am most curious, however. Do tell me more about these darts of yours. I've never been to the Dark Continent; did a witch doctor instruct you?”
I was shell shocked to say the least. I looked frantically to Dorian. He chuckled and cleared his throat, only capturing Nikola's attention for a moment. Dorian said, “Really Nikola, your life is in danger. You need protection, why not come to S.O.A.R.? They can give you everything you need to shield you from threats like Lovecraft. Even the Secretary of State was acting like his henchman.”
Tesla stood and brushed leaves from his clothing and answered, “I know nothing of Lovecraft or the Secretary of State, truthfully. While I may claim complete responsibility for my shaker device, which worked exactly as planned, I have no knowledge of what Lovecraft might have to do with it. I have set myself to my life's work and I plan to see it to fruition.”
“And what is your master plan?” I asked.
“Why dismantle the Republic of America's government? If you knew what I knew, you would be joining me, as well.”
I had to ask, “This isn't a simple case of revenge, is it?”
He then smiled at me and said, “Why? Would avenging the wrongs done to me, make me appear more dashing in your eyes?” Smarmy bugger.
Dorian intervened on my behalf, “Nikola, what is your plan?”
“Don't worry, Ms. Darling, there is only one lady in my life that I love.”
I hazarded a guess and asked, “Pigeons?”
“While they are truly faithful friends, alas, no. Science is my one and true love. I, believe it or not, love this land, but I am sure you have sensed its underlying sickness. The land is dying.
“D.C., both the direct current and the capitol, are the way of the past. They are killing our world with pollution and disease. But our President has a stranglehold on our electrical grids. If I tell you about a part of my plan, will you share the formula for one of your darts?”
I shrugged in acquiescence.
“Good. Let me tell you a little about me and my motivations then. Some years ago, before I was changed into what I am now, the government took an interest in my work. I was penniless and was holed up in a small boarding house, fiddling with a few of my ideas dealing with energy, when an official representative from the Department of Energy knocked on my door with an equally tempting offer. It was not unlike what your S.O.A.R. is offering now.
“They offered me a free bed to sleep in, regular meals, a salary that would go a long way in purchasing my own working studio, and free reign to develop my ideas without a budget. I didn't have many options back then, so when they offered me my own pigeon coop, on top of what was already being offered, well... I felt like someone really understood me. I would want for nothing. Nothing... except my freedom.
“I went to them, with two trunks and three cages. One was filled with all my personal items, including some feed for my birds. The other was filled with my personal notebooks. Between those pages were all the ideas and notes I had accumulated throughout my life.
“Their scientists were fascinated by all the observations and theories that I had accumulated throughout my career. They toiled through each idea. Some failed, but many more would prove to be profitable for the people and the government. I began to look at them as if they were my brothers-in-arms.
“Each day would be filled with eighteen hour days, filled with discovery and honest hard work. I could even take as many breaks in the day as I required tending to my coop. It was a sort of paradise for me.
“But then after a few years, things started to change. It was subtle at first. My coop had grown quite large and at one point, I counted thirty-six pigeons. Then my children started to mysteriously die, one by one.
“The duration between them dying seemed at first sporadic, but I learned all too soon that there was a more dastardly reason.
“I set the government veterinarians on the task to discovering the cause of their deaths, while I toiled in the labs. I recorded each death, side by side
in my personal journals, which also recounted our failures and successes in the labs. Eventually a pattern did emerge.
“Altogether, I lost fourteen pigeons before I discovered the true cause of death. Every time the lab suffered a large set back, one of my pigeons died.
“I demanded retribution. I confronted the Director of Energy about the correlation.
“He was a cruel little man, the kind you could imagine stomping his foot when he didn't get his way. When I confronted him with my theory, he had the audacity to laugh at me and say, ‘The great Nikola Tesla took all of two months to formulate a theory about your precious dying birds. Took you long enough. Of course, we had to step up the behavior modifications. Your labs weren’t producing a high enough return on our investment. You'll lose one pigeon every time the lab suffers a serious setback. In return, you can add to your coop with each success.'
“I told him that I couldn't work for such a malicious administrator. I told him that I was going to speak to his supervisor. He just blew smoke into my face and said, 'Son, who do you think approved this little Pavlovian practice? The President is the only one with authorization clearance to get this pushed through.' Then he laughed his little laugh.
“Then I told him that I was going to quit. I told him that I was going to pack my trunks and be gone within the hour.
“He just rolled his eyes and said, 'You can't go anywhere, son. You don't have the clearance to leave.'
“I felt like strangling his neck, but instead I asked him what I had to do to get the clearance. He said that I had to create a weapon that would elevate the Republic to a status that would make our military untouchable.
“I was under no false illusions that if I created this weapon for them, they would never let me leave. If I proved to be unprofitable, I knew they would be obligated to kill me. If, I refused to work they would do the same. It was in great shame that I created the Death Ray, the highly lethal and concentrated quantum laser. Its first application for it was to blast a hole through the wall of the facility and make my great escape. After the hole was made, I did happen to take a little item from it that prevented it from ever working again.
“Regrettably, I had to leave behind all my pigeons and notebooks. At least, I had the foresight to alter my plans in those notebooks radically, so that it would be impossible for anyone to figure out how to make it work again.
“But I persevered, Miss Darling. I went into hiding and swore revenge against the great Republic that took away my pigeons, inventions, and dignity. First order of business was to create a technique with A.C. power to prolong my life. With that accomplished, my next order of business was to design a plan, so that I could singlehandedly dismantle the Republic's political infrastructure. Then I developed a new type of electromagnetic oscillating resonance machine, the Earthquake Machine, that I like to refer to as the Seismo, based on the huge Seismosaurus dinosaurs from two hundred million years ago of North America, that supposedly shook the earth whenever it walked.
“So you see Dorian and Miss Darling, I neither need your protection, nor do I require your presence in carrying out my plan. I am finally so close to seeing it come to fruition that any distractions might hinder my success.”
I asked, “So your plan is to take down the government? I fear for your sanity, because these little shakers you've been creating are troublesome, but nowhere near the capacity, breadth, nor strength needed to decimate the capitol.”
He clicked his tongue and said, “But Miss Darling, I have not been idle in my spare time. So they think that they can use the excess energy from my Seismo for some deviant purpose. Who cares? During my planned invasion of D.C., if they think that they can twist the energy from the Seismo into something evil; my T.R.A.M.s will simply absorb it. Problem solved.”
The logistics in this plan bothered me. The devil was in the details and I was all about the details. I wondered how he was going to saunter into the capitol and execute his plan, because Edison never left the sanctity of the White House. Ever. In addition, he had a Werewolf battalion protecting him. I asked, “How were you planning on delivering this blow to the Republic?”
“My goal is to take out only the President, since he has all the clearance, so to speak. Anyone caught in the crossfire will have to be collateral damage. There are enough bad apples in the White House, where there wouldn't be any calamitous loss if the whole thing collapsed into dust.
“I had thought of delivering it like a Trojan might, but decided against it. I will storm the capitol, for you see, I have accumulated quite the army, you might say, with my T.R.A.M.s, but I am ready to sacrifice my creations and even myself for such a worthy cause.”
Dorian and I exchanged wary glances. Dorian stated the obvious, “All the same Tesla, the true wild card in this scheme is H. P. Lovecraft. Our organization is for balancing the scales. Based on what you've told us, we feel that you would be a good fit for S.O.A.R. There are those in the seat of power within our organization that may sympathize with your cause and choose to assist you in your endeavors.”
Tesla threw back his head and laughed, “Such is the baying of the sheep that believe the promises of the wolf. You are deluding yourself if you believe that your Society isn't in alliance with the government.”
Dorian asked cautiously, “How so?”
“Think on it. How else better to quell small uprisings when you have the alias of an organization claiming to be set against the government? They infiltrate secret pockets of dissent and scribble down the names of people who have rebellious natures and either destroy them or recruit them under the guise of balancing the scales.
“A little bit of dissatisfaction, becomes satisfaction. When you think you are revolting, you are but in reality aiding the government. Your S.O.A.R. reports to the President himself, of this I am certain.”
I gauged Dorian's lack of expression. I asked Tesla, “But what of H. P. Lovecraft?”
Haughtily, he explained, “Why Miss Darling, I think it would be quite apparent that he is in league with the President, when the Secretary of State is keeping the company of the man.”
I had to rethink my position within the organization, if what Tesla spouted as truth was true. How would this change what I did or how I lived?
I concluded that it changed nothing.
My objective remained the same, no matter who paid my wages every year. I still had a job to do: to recruit Tesla.
“Why all the shakers, Mr. Tesla?” I asked.
“Distractions… tests… you take your pick.”
I waited for what Dorian had to say. He looked nervously at me and said, “I need more than a mad scientist's word that S.O.A.R. is corrupt. How do you feel about us traveling with you, until evidence becomes clear supporting your accusations?”
Ignoring Dorian, Tesla focused back on me and asked, “I will consider it, if you tell me about your knock-out dose while we travel together to the train station. I have a very important appointment to keep in Niagara.”
Then he turned to Dorian and said, “I can't stop you from following, if you happen to find yourself aboard the same train as I, but I would like to request that you to make up your minds quickly as to whether you are my friend or foe. I won't be defenseless for long, since I have friends willing to help me just about everywhere.”
Tesla then stood up and took one of my bags with one arm. Then he extended the elbow of his other arm towards me. I picked up my other bag, the one with the sticks, and took his arm. We had a very interesting discussion on poisons on the way to the train platform. Dorian trailed behind us, probably scowling the whole way.
Chapter 10
Locomotives
“Don't answer the phone if bad news is on the other end.”
-Teddy Bell, Gentleman's Guide to Living the Good Life, 1989.
From Dorian's Journal of Memorable Quotes to Live By
Dorian's side note: Sometimes getting bad news is what forces us to do good things.
The platform
was full of desperate travelers waiting for the next train leading out of Buffalo. Fortunately, this particular train station was purposely built far enough away from the city, so that in case of an emergency the trains could continue running. Separate phone lines were usually used for the out of town stations and were likely to be up this far out. At least that was what I was hoping.
The electricity throbbed from the inside and outside of the building, making it a beacon in the dark, dead city that lay at its feet down in the valley. There were three tracks leading out of Buffalo from this station. One was to the west where Abraham was located, another headed southeast to New Amsterdam, and then the last was the north track, which leads to Niagara Falls. Since we were along for the ride, in hopes of persuading Tesla to reconsider joining S.O.A.R., we would be joining him to Niagara to do whatever he had to do before his main journey to the Capitol. He was rather tight lipped on any other information, which made me nervous. To call him a wild card, was to put it mildly. I just hoped he wasn't the ace of spades.
The evening security lights had just flickered off, as we entered the station, since the sun was just beginning to peak itself over the hills surrounding Buffalo. Dorian gave Tesla a spare resplug he had in his satchel, since Nikola claimed that he normally never wore one. We persuaded him to wear one now, since we didn't want to draw unwanted attention. But we needn't have bothered, when we entered the station, it was devoid of all life, except for one sweaty, bald ticket dispenser with a huge handlebar mustache. I would have to speculate that it was to over compensate for his extreme baldness.
What I didn't see was the usual officers or security people patrolling the floors. It seemed ghostly in comparison to the previous day's havoc. I didn't like one bit. Other people meant witnesses and there were none in here. Maybe joining the crowd outside would be preferable to waiting in here any length of time.
Tesla's Revenge Page 11
