Einstein Must Die! (Fate of Nations Book 1) (13 page)

“Is this it? Is this the thing?” asked Madelaine, standing by the mechanical brain.

“That is my prototype neural net array,” he told her, thinking instead about climbing into bed.

The answer didn’t satisfy the girl, and she waited, eyebrows raised in question.

“That’s the thing,” said Savannah. “And you got it working, you said?”

He nodded, slowly. “I just did yesterday.”
 
The interest in his inventions pushed the throbbing pain back slightly. “Here, watch,” he said.

He threw the browning apple into the trash can, and set a water glass where it had been. Then he flipped the power switch, and the machine snapped to life. Relays flickered back and forth, then the teletype chattered the machine’s decision: “GLASS.”

Madelaine clapped her hands enthusiastically. “Yay!”

“You really did it. A learning machine,” said Savannah, one hand on her hip.

“I’ve trained it to recognize about a dozen items so far. I’d guess it could handle up to thirty. Not enough bandwidth for more than that. I’d have to increase the number of relays and connections.”

“Still. It’s an amazing breakthrough. And a necessary first step to our goal.”

“Which is the reason for your visit.”

“We’re on a merciless schedule, Nikola. As you now know.”

He remembered his night with her father. Despite his weariness, and the knowledge of the colonel’s cancer, he smiled at the memories.
 

“Yes, I do know. And I’m very sorry for the news.”
 

“Thank you. But I’m hoping you can offer us a lot more than sympathy. Can you, Nikola?”

Tesla sighed. His bed was beckoning him like a siren call. So tired…
 

And yet a glimmer of something hopeful welled up within him, rising to the surface. Was it pride? Arrogance? Optimism?

 
He’d always seen technology as the way to improve men’s lives. Now he was being offered the chance to demonstrate that ideal, and on a momentous scale.
 

To build a machine capable of actual human thought. His ego savored the thought. His love for the excitement of a huge bet enjoyed the idea also. But the most convincing voice in his mind spoke to him of the joy of seeing such a creation come to life, having been born from nothing but his ideas.

“I will do it,” he said.

Savannah beamed, rushing to hug him. “You will?”

“I will. If,” he said, holding up his hand to thwart the embrace, “I can get some sleep first.”

Savannah stopped short, her face glowing. She remembered his aversion to touch and dropped her arms. But knowing she’d secured Nikola Tesla to work with them filled her with happiness. She’d known they’d be losing her father soon, but today she felt more hopeful that in a sense, he could deny death and stay with them.

“You got it, Nikola. Get your rest. Because we have a lot of work to do.”

He nodded, already shambling toward the bed. “And we will succeed. Tomorrow.”

Savannah hustled her daughter to the door. On the way out, she called back, “I’ll ask Mrs. Harrison not to disturb you. And don’t worry. I’m going to have an MP posted outside your door, so you won’t have any more unwelcome guests.”

He stopped, surprised at the idea. “You can do that? Yes, I suppose you can.”

Savannah peeked from behind his door. “You’re a government asset now, Nikola. Which has its perks. Sleep well.”

She closed the door gently, and Tesla fell into bed.
 

Before the women had even reached the street, he was asleep and dreaming of a vast open field of mechanical relays.
 

Under an electric sun, they stretched for miles, switching back and forth like wheat waving in the wind.

FIRST, NEW HAVEN

Under a waning crescent moon, Major Thomas stood on dry land again, for the first time in forty-three days, atop a sloping bluff. His mind told him the ground was rocking, but that would pass soon enough. A cold October breeze swam around him, and he pulled his coat tighter. The wind wove through the nearby tree line, forcing a soft rustling roar from the dried leaves. It would be dawn soon, and the early-morning chill gave him a shiver.

The bluff provided a fine view of the shallow harbor where the
Glasgow
waited at anchor. She couldn’t get as close to the beach as he’d have preferred, but this frustration was a necessary first step. Things would only get easier from here.

His army of seven hundred soldiers had been coming ashore in longboats over the past several hours, and they were massing just over the bluff. He had allowed campfires to be built, and several men had already shot deer, soon to be skinned and roasted.
 

The men could use a good rest before attacking New Haven, but he didn’t want to spend the time. Doubtless, some peasant had already reported their arrival.
 

So let the men have some warmth and good food while the supplies came ashore. He anticipated another six hours for the last of the men, the twenty horses, six cannons and their supplies of food and ammunition.
 

Two of his officers approached, leading a thin, slight man between them.
And this must be the traitor
.

“Welcome to America, Major,” said the man. “Good journey?”

Major Thomas looked down, taking in the man’s unkempt appearance. He was unshaven, with hollow, sunken eyes, and his shirt boasted an orange patch of dried soup.
 

“You have maps for me?” the major replied.

“I do, yessir.” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a thick folded document. “The city layout, complete with important sites marked. The armory, city hall, church, mill, even the tannery, the oyster beds, and the clockworks factory. I also circled the richest homesteads,” he said, proud of his thoroughness.

The major took the map from the toad.

“Pay him in full,” he told the officers. They nodded, understanding, and led him away as he called back, “Good hunting, generous sir!”

A moment later a single gunshot rang out, and the toad was dead. The major’s aversion to disloyalty was strong, despite the circumstances.

He turned and headed over the bluff, eager for a taste of American venison.

***

The rest of the day was long, filled with screams, gunfire, dirt, bayonet attacks, cannon explosions, and sweat.

But that evening the township of New Haven was theirs.
 

The Major had lost only fourteen men, to the Americans’ ninety or so. Of course, they weren’t soldiers. They were simple townsfolk defending their homes and business.
And rather badly, at that
.

He’d ordered a dozen of the resisters hanged and left to swing. A strong, visual reminder for those who may still harbor treachery in their hearts.

The major formed detachments to secure and search key buildings. A proper perimeter was established, and scouts were sent into the surrounding area. Census records were being checked for land holdings, and where the best farms lay. The port defenses had been pacified, and his men were preparing for the arrival of their reinforcements.

A total success
, thought the major. He guessed Boston would not be as easy.
 

But he was eager to find out.

BOSTON MUST HOLD

WASHINGTON, DC

Inside the State, War, and Navy Building, President Roosevelt paced as if the movement would somehow erase the news he’d just been told.

“I can’t believe it. How did this happen?”

The long table was circled by a dozen generals and policy experts, but none had a ready answer for the commander in chief.

General Houston spread his hands and spoke. His sing-song Tennessee accent was disarmingly charming, and appreciated, given the situation.

“Mr. President, all we know so far is what our man in the airbase saw. The team picked up the explosives and successfully boarded the
Artemis
. Shortly after that, Einstein left the ship, and the king went up instead. It’s probable that our team didn’t even know the situation had changed.”

“This complicates things considerably,” Roosevelt said, wearing a path in the thick carpet. “England’s population wasn’t entirely behind this war. They could have lost a scientist, and that wouldn’t change. But this?”

“I know, sir.”

“You don’t see your country’s ruler assassinated and stay on the sidelines. They’ll rally now, behind whoever takes over.”

“Absolutely,” added General John Pershing. “And our guess is, that man will be Winston Churchill.”

“The alcoholic prime minister? He doesn’t seem the type.”

“I’ve seen him speak, sir. I think you’d be surprised. He has a real talent for uniting people behind a banner.”

“Well, we’ve given him one hell of a cause.”

The general’s eyes fell. “That we did, Mr. President.”

Roosevelt caught the man’s shift in mood.

“I know you didn’t approve of the action. This was my decision.”

General Houston cut in. “Water under the bridge, sir. What matters now is how we go forward. How’s the Asian empire taking all this?”
 

Roosevelt shrugged. “They’re staying out of it, letting us and the Crowns beat our brains out. Smart.”

He gestured to a file folder laid open on the wide table. “We’ve lost New Haven. That English major has a full battalion, and he is gathering his forces. He won’t be content to sit still for long.”

“I know.”

“The Joint Chiefs and I have ordered three companies to move in, but it will take some time to mobilize a larger force.”

“Tell me about that. What’s the plan?”

Secretary of War Elihu Root stood and walked to a large chalkboard on the wall, covered with a rough sketch of the Eastern Seaboard. New Haven was marked, as was New York City, Yonkers, Providence, and Boston.

“Mr. President, as the general said, the military intelligence division tells us the English have a full battalion, that’s seven hundred men, stationed in New Haven. If we—”

“I’m quite aware of military organization, Root,” the president said.
 

“Ah, yes, sir. We assume that Boston is their goal, so we’re bringing the Second Cavalry over from Albany, the Seventh Infantry up from Yonkers, and the Third Artillery Battery in Providence is already well positioned.”

“Good. But not exactly overwhelming force. Sounds like an even fight.”

“Roughly, it is, sir. We have more options out of Columbus, Ohio, but that will take time.”

The president frowned. “If they take the deep water port in Boston, we’ll have a hell of a time getting them out of there.”

General Houston nodded. “Quite true, sir. Their land force will get resupplied by sea. And the city is defensible, being half surrounded by water.”

“Then it must hold. How’s the garrison there?”

“At half strength. They sent a lot of boys into the fight before the Armistice, and funding pressures have held back a full recovery of enlistments.”

The president scowled at the bad news. He turned away and walked the length of the room, lighting a thick cigar. He pulled the hot smoke in, and let it linger before blowing it up at the ceiling.

“Well, goddamn,” he said.

The room waited in silence as he took another long drag.

“Forgive me, General,” he said, turning back to the men. “How is your team? Did they make it out all right?”

“Only one, I’m afraid. Our man in the base saw the team leader fall from the
Artemis
just before the explosion. Managed to pull him from a lake before the Crowns covered the area. He’s recovering on a steamer now, heading back home to Tennessee.”

“Back to your neck of the woods.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, that’s something. Keep me apprised of his condition, will you?”

“Certainly, Mr. President.”

“What about Beowulf? About now, we could use a force multiplier.”

“Savannah did get Tesla to join us, but not even he knows how to build what we need. At least, not yet. It’s going to take time.”

“Not a lot of that to go around.”

“Rarely is, Mr. President,” General Houston agreed.

A FAREWELL TO KINGS