Einstein Must Die! (Fate of Nations Book 1) (17 page)

There was a soft knock at his door. “Come,” he called.

His top generals entered, followed by the home secretary, and a pretty girl carrying a typewriter. He waved them in and leaned against the windowsill, letting the air cool his back. The typist got set up and nodded when she was ready.

“Go ahead,” he told her.
 

He addressed the officials, all still standing. “Tell me what you know.”

General Cornwallis spoke first, a tall, thin man with a family heritage most would kill for. “Hours ago, the HMS
Artemis
went airborne for a scheduled flight test. A few minutes into the flight, an explosion occurred that ignited the hydrogen cells. The ship was destroyed in seconds.”

The typist worked her keys, recording everything the men said.

“Why was the king aboard?”

“That we’re not sure of, sir. The base staff tells us a large party of friends joined the king aboard the ship. It did not appear to be a planned event.”

“Didn’t it? That’s interesting. Do you think—”

A quick, insistent rapping at the door interrupted Churchill. “What is it?” he yelled.

The door opened, and Albert Einstein entered. He looked pale and furtive.

“Perfect timing, Professor Einstein. Join us,” said Churchill. “The general tells me the king may not have been scheduled for the flight?”

“He most certainly was not, sir. I was. The flight test was solely for me and my team. The king arrived and surprised everyone. Ordered me off the
Artemis
and took off.”

Churchill looked at the leaders in the room, and they all understood the situation. The true target had been this scientist. Their king had been murdered by accident.
 

Instinctively, Churchill committed to memory the names of everyone who knew this fact, then he stepped across the room and pulled the paper out of the typist’s machine.

“Thank you, my dear. We won’t be needing you, after all.”

The girl nodded and made her exit as Churchill found his cigar lighter and lit the paper on fire.

Einstein continued. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to kill me. So I came straight here, I don’t know where else is safe. I can’t very well go home.”

Churchill dropped the burning paper into a fruit bowl, where it curled and blackened.
 

“Certainly not, Professor. It seems you are America’s biggest fear, which is good.”

“Good?” asked Einstein.

“You have enemies,” Churchill said. “That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life.”
 

Einstein found little comfort in the words, though he appreciated the sentiment.

“I’ve read the reports of your work with great interest. These new radiological bombs, they can make an entire city uninhabitable?”

“Yes, sir. The radiation fallout can do just that, for many months or years.”

“Incredible. I can see why they want you dead,” Churchill said, sipping his water. “The empires of the future are the empires of the mind. Scientists like yourself are a national resource.”

General Nelson spoke up. “We can put him in embassy housing for a day or two, until a more permanent solution is found.”

Churchill nodded. “Yes, do that.” He turned to the scientist. “How many of these new bombs do you have?”

“Operational? Only six. But seventeen more are in process.”

“And how many zeppelins capable of reaching the US mainland?”

“Having lost the
Artemis
, we have three long-range airships now, sir.”

Churchill nodded. “All right then, I suggest we split the new bombs between the ships, and load on as many conventional warheads as possible. Then we get those birds in the air and on their way over the Atlantic. Generals?” he asked.

They both nodded. “Yes, sir,” replied General Nelson. “That was the plan, after successful flight tests of the
Artemis
.”

“Well, gentlemen, our schedule is pushed up,” said Churchill. “I want those ships in the air by sunrise.”

DEATH AND LIMERICKS

Tesla’s lab was buzzing with activity. His team had worked all day, stripping wires from the relay network, then remounting the small switches onto a series of sixteen square boards. They were sized such that when sandwiched together, they would all fit within the steel cube of Beowulf’s brain cavity. Rewiring the two thousand relays was tedious, as Tesla had predicted, but if they went carefully, the work was not difficult.

The boards were currently on Tesla’s workstation, held in place by temporary ribs. They already formed a cube, and they fit inside the outline Tesla had marked on the table.

“Looking good, Mr. Tesla!”

He smiled, recognizing Madelaine’s cheerful voice. “Why, thank you, young miss. I do believe we are getting there.” He picked up a screwdriver and tightened down the restraining rails on an outer board.

“I’m thinking you’re… an hour away from being done,” she said, hopping onto a stool.

“I’m thinking you’re about right. Where’s your mom?”

“Upstairs in a meeting. The nuclear reactor had some problem.”

Tesla raised an eyebrow. “Anything I should be worried about?”

“Nah, probably not,” she said.

“That’s a comfort.”

“Not to worry, Mr. Tesla. They haven’t had a serious problem in… oh, at least two months.”

“What?” said Tesla, dropping his screwdriver.

“Just kidding!”

“Very amusing,” he said, retrieving the lost tool.

“Hey, I’ve got something for you,” she said, looking left and right to make sure no one was nearby. The furtive action drew his attention.
 

“Yes? Do tell.”

“I know some great limericks,” she whispered.

“Do you now? All right, let me have one.”

“It’s British,” she said, then stood and cleared her throat, as if she were about to perform at Carnegie Hall.

“There was a young tart from Moss Side.

Who charged three pound sixteen for a ride.

For four twenty one,

You could enter her bum,
 

And a tenner would make her your bride.”

She covered her mouth and burst out laughing at her own joke. “Told you it’s good!”

Tesla tried to hide the smile that crept across his lips, but could not.
 

“It’s a good one. I bet Mr. Edison would appreciate it, you should go tell him.”

“I doubt that!” she said. “He’s a bit stuffy, if you ask—oh,” she said, getting his prank late.

She wagged a finger at him. “Naughty. Going to have to be careful with you.”

“Nikola!” yelled Savannah.

Tesla’s head snapped up at the urgent tone in her voice. She was descending on the elevator platform, along with the General, Edison, and several men he’d not met. Then he saw Colonel Browning, lying on his back on a gurney. Savannah was holding his hand and whispering to him.

She stood up and cried to Tesla again. “We’re out of time! We have to do this now!”

“Oh God,” said Tesla. “Madelaine, stand aside, dear.”

She stood frozen, mouth open, then said, “Save him, Mr. Tesla.” Without waiting for a reply, she bolted out of the way.

The elevator settled to the floor, and two medical staff lifted the gurney over the small steps, setting the colonel down gently. They wheeled him over to where Tesla stood, waiting.

“Can we do it, Nikola?” asked Savannah.

He looked at the cube on his table, not fully assembled.

“The mechanics are in place. I was just going to run some final checks before integrating it with Beowulf.”

He looked down at the colonel. The man was awake, but his eyes fluttered. He was struggling to breathe. The nurse held a finger over his wrist and called out, “Pulse down to forty-two!”

Tesla nodded. “Yes. Yes, we can do this now.”

He swept his arm across his workstation, clearing an area. Tools, fuses, and papers clattered to the floor. He called out to a young man working closer to the huge tank.
 

“George, bring me the reader, hurry!”
 

While Tesla disconnected testing circuits, the technician sprinted to a nearby table and scooped up a large metal sphere. A thick bundle of wires trailed from it, like the nerves from a huge eye. He brought it over and set it down carefully in the space Tesla had cleared.

“Hang on, Colonel,” Tesla said. “I just need another minute…”

Savannah stood beside him, wanting to explode, but just squeezed her father’s hand.

Tesla took the cable bundle up in his hands, finding the ending connectors. He snapped them into a dozen fittings at the base of the unassembled cube.

“OK… help me get his head inside.”

He took the metal sphere, and Savannah saw one side of it was open. Inside, the helmet-like thing was studded with hundreds of electrodes.

Savannah reached under her father’s shoulders and lifted his head off the gurney. Tesla slid the reader into place, and the steel device reached down to just above the colonel’s eyes.
 

Edison grunted, but said nothing.
This is unnatural
, he thought.

Tesla looked around for Madelaine, but couldn’t find her.

General Houston stood back from the group, his face a mask of stone.

Still gripping her father’s hand, Savannah placed her other hand on the colonel’s chest. She stretched her neck around. “Chaplain?”

The base chaplain came forward to deliver last rites. “I’m here, Mrs. Browning.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t really explain—”

“I’ve heard rumors. And that’s all I care to hear.”

Savannah blinked, but let it go.
 

Her hand suddenly hurt, and she looked down at it. Her father’s grip had tightened, and his knuckles were white from the pressure.

“He’s squeezing my hand, hard,” she said. She leaned down to him. “Can you hear me, Papa? I’m right here. We’re all right here.”

She looked around for Madelaine and cocked her head, inviting her to come closer, but the little girl shook her head.

The chaplain stepped forward, beginning the last rites.

Colonel Browning’s eyes opened then and focused on Savannah. A slight smile began to form, then was gone. His chest sagged, and his grip on Savannah went slack.

“No pulse! It’s now or never,” said the nurse.

Tesla felt a fine sheet of sweat along his back. His heart was racing as he reached for the large main breaker switch. His hands were wet, so he clamped down hard, then threw the breaker.

The cube’s temporary power supply hummed, then whined to life. They could all smell the familiar tang of ozone in the air, and the area was bathed in static electricity. Savannah felt the hairs on her forearm rise.

The colonel’s hand slipped out of his daughter’s grasp and fell off the gurney.

“No,” whispered Madelaine.

They all waited, frozen while the chaplain finished his words. “…On behalf of a man whose soul is departing, and who cannot speak.”

Savannah’s mouth worked, but no sound came forward.

Then, beside the cube, a single mono-filament light bulb glowed. Edison realized it was one of his new designs, then wondered why he noticed such a thing now.

Tesla pointed to the warm, orange light. “I rigged that up as a signal. It means the RCA is fully loaded.”

“So he’s OK?” asked Savannah.

“I can’t say for sure. This has never been done. But it’s a good sign.”

Savannah looked from the cube to her father’s body, then back again. Which was now really him? Did he even still exist?

The nurse pronounced the time of death, and the chaplain stepped back, biting his lower lip.
 

Edison whispered into the chaplain’s ear, “I wanted no part of this.”

“Nor I,” he sighed. “A mockery of a good life.”

Everyone looked to Tesla for an answer, but he had none to give. His heart still raced, and his muscles felt weak, like he’d just run a great distance. He wanted to sit down.

George brought over the teletype and connected it to the cube.

Tesla nodded his thanks and found a microphone. He set it on the table, wired it up, and waited to see if anyone wished to try first. When no one stepped forward, he leaned down to speak to the colonel’s consciousness.

“Wait,” said Savannah. She took her father’s dangling arm and placed it back on the gurney by his side. Then she came forward, and Tesla moved aside.

She pressed down on the transmit switch and bent down, her mouth an inch from the microphone.

“Papa…?” she whispered.

The lab was utterly silent. No one dared move or disturb the heavy sense of dread and hope that settled over them all.

Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the teletype, which sat still and quiet.

“Papa? Can you hear me?” she tried again.

There was no response.

Savannah’s face was wet before she realized she was crying. The tears slipped down her cheekbones and fell from her jawline. She wiped them away, shaking her head.

“We’re here. Say something to us. Just… tell us anything. Please.”

She turned to the teletype, but it gave no sign of life.

The knowledge of her father’s death hit her then, and a racking sobbing doubled her over. The general wrapped an arm over her shoulders and led her away. The sounds of her heartache tore at Tesla, but he was powerless to help her.