Tesla's Signal (24 page)

Niko froze in terror.
“Bože moi,
it's
Them
. He began clawing at the window, trying to get it open.

“Nick, what the devil are you doing?”

“I'm getting out of here.” Strengthened by desperation, he gave the window a tremendous kick and it gave way by a little more than a foot. That was enough for him to squeeze out, and let himself down onto the tracks.
Glad I never put on weight.
 

“Nick, give me a hand, I'm coming too.” Hugo also managed to fit through the gap and follow him. 

They brushed themselves off and looked up ahead. The next few cars lay sideways on the tracks, venting steam. People had begun to climb out, some of them bleeding from the head. Police sirens wailed below.

Hugo whistled in awe.“Blazes! Will you look at that!”

The entire elevated train bridge up ahead had been sheared off, leaving twisted metal and a smoking gap.

He fought to control his panic. “You see, Hugo? It's
Them!
Are they going to blame
me
for derailing this train?”

They pressed up against the side of the train to avoid being seen by police, and began walking. “We're exposed up here,” Niko muttered. “Th-they might come back any minute. ” He hugged himself, trying to stop the shaking. “Let's get down below where they can't see us.” He put his foot over the railing so he could climb down.

“Good grief, Nick, I'm not climbing around on those girders. I'm not a kid anymore,” Hugo protested. “It's suicide.”

“Maybe. But it's better than being taken by
Them.”
 

“Nick, I have a confession...I'm scared of heights. I'm going to the
stairway.”

“But that's six blocks away!”

“Look, Nick...I write adventure stories, but the truth is I'm a dadblamed coward myself. You go on down; I'll meet you at the Engineers' Club.”

Niko grabbed his friend's arm. “I'm not responsible for this—or the rest of the disasters. Do you believe me now?”

“I guess I do.”

He climbed over the side of the track platform, and his foot found the steel support girder that held up the El line.
I may not be a youngster anymore but I'm still 'wily as a spider'.
He liked that! A grin stole across his face as he climbed down the metal framework and quickly lost himself in the crowded streets of New York.

***

“Sorry friends. I can't feed you right now.” As he approached Bryant Park, all of his pigeon friends immediately came to greet him in their usual colors: iridescent gray and blue and white. “Most likely it is I who will be pecked to death today.”

Over the years he had spent many hours in peaceful contemplation here, among park benches and wrought-iron tables and stone sculpture. It reminded him of Paris. But there was to be no relaxation today.

The Engineers' Club sat on 40th Street, just across from Bryant Park. The white marble high-rise boasted a luxurious lounge where professionals and investors could gather to show off their status and wealth. Niko tried to brush off his vest and straighten his collar. Perhaps his former colleagues would be more likely to believe him if he looked neat and respectable.  

Once Niko had been the best-dressed man in New York. But that seemed like a million years ago.

He entered the lounge and faced a throng of gentlemen in fine suits. Once Niko had been like these men: dapper, assured, successful. They clustered around the oak table, nursing cocktails and smoking cigars. At the sight of Niko, they gaped in astonishment.

“Well! Look who's here,” said Charles Steinmetz, standing up. “It's our friend Nick Tesla.”

“Out slumming today, Nick?” said Basil Dinsdale, taking in Niko's grime-stained clothing and disheveled appearance.

“What's this we're reading about you,” said sharp-faced Michael Pupin. “They say you've gone berserk!”

“I hear there was just an accident on the 6th Avenue El! What in God's name are you doing?” Dinsdale pointed a finger. “You should be put away.”

“I was in that accident,” said Niko. “Listen, I have no time for polite niceties. Let me tell  you the truth.” He took a deep breath. “It was a ship from space that destroyed the El. I'm not responsible for the disasters—they are the work of extra-terrestrials who have come to invade Earth.”

The listeners reacted with narrowed eyes, and a few suppressed grins.

“Really? Would these be your Martians that sent you a signal in Colorado?” said Pupin in a condescending tone.

“Yes. The very same.” Niko forced himself to stay calm in front of this hostile audience. “Gentlemen, please listen to what I have to say. I've contributed much to science. Don't I deserve a fair hearing from you?”

They gathered around: Steinmetz, Pupin, Worthington...a whole lot who had envied him for his success, called him deluded, and then tried to claim credit for his inventions.

“All right, what do you have to say about
this?”
Steinmetz took out a newspaper and handed it to him.

New York Under Attack! Witnesses have reported seeing a glowing disc...a destructive ray that fries buildings and makes the ground quake. Authorities believe these disasters may be the work of renegade scientist Nikola Tesla, who has boasted in the past that his machines were capable of 'splitting the Earth in half like an apple'.”

Niko wanted to hit himself in the forehead. “I never 'boasted'...I just tried to explain the principle of resonance! The papers misinterpreted me. They always do!”

Steinmetz put his hands on his hips. “You're always coming up with preposterous claims. Tell the truth—this is another one of your experiments gone awry, isn't it?”

Indeed it is. If only you knew how badly...
Niko took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “No sir. Alien ships are responsible. They kidnapped me, and...did something to my mind. Now they've gone on a rampage. It looks as though they want to conquer our planet!”

“That's crazier than a sack of bedbugs,” said Dinsdale.

“Tesla's a liar,” cried Pupin in a shrill voice. “I invented the alternating current motor and he stole it from me!”

Professor Steinmetz spoke up. “Mr. Tesla, lately we have heard rumors that you have, uh, been losing your grip. Now I'm more than ever convinced that you need professional help.”

“Admit the truth, Nick,” Pupin cried. “You didn't win the Nobel Prize, so you're lashing out in revenge!”

Niko pointed a trembling finger. “That's a lie and you know it, Pupin. Unlike you, I care nothing for prizes and glory. I'm interested in
science!”
He reached for calm. This was not the time for personal vendettas. “I have no reason to strike out. It is the Martians who are staging these disasters to cause fear and confusion. There'll be a lot worse happening soon. We've got to stop them!”

Just then Hugo Gernsback pushed open the glass door and strode in. “Fellows, listen to me. I was with Nick on the Sixth Avenue El—we saw a ship and a destructive ray. Hundreds of others saw it too. I'd testify in court that Tesla's not to blame for the disasters. He doesn't have an evil bone in his body.”

“Thank you, Hugo.”
That's not exactly true, but close enough.
 

The rest of them stood unconvinced, with arms folded and eyes narrowed. “The story's still bunk. Mars cannot support life.”

“Tell me, are they little green men?”

“Are you an alien yourself, Tesla?”

Niko loosened his tie. He had spoken to these same engineers to demonstrate the superiority of alternating current. They had been just as pigheaded back then.
Some things never change.
 

“Gentlemen.” A man with smooth gray hair and a calm demeanor stepped forward. “I'm Dr. Norman Davidson—I'm visiting from the Pennsylvania State College. I heard Tesla's alternating current lecture in Philadelphia. I think we should listen to the man,” he told the rest of the crowd. “He's twice as smart as all of us put together, and you all know it.” He went up and gave Niko his card. “Mr. Tesla, if you're ever in Central Pennsylvania, we would love to have you come and lecture.”

Michael Pupin stood up. “You're a fool,” he said. “This man is a danger to the human race.”

Niko noticed a silvery sheen in the man's eyes. It triggered a sudden flash of memory: a beautiful woman with eyes like that...the words
Angel Jewel
...
commands of the Angels
.

He flinched back as his brain made the connection. “Your eyes!” He pointed at Pupin. “You're under their influence—”

“Don't listen to him,” Pupin cried. “He's a dangerous criminal!” Several men charged in from the entrance. They did not look like any engineers that Niko knew.

He suddenly realized what a fool he'd been.
The Martians must have human agents—people who knew where to look for me: my lab, the Engineers' Club.
While he'd been busy talking, they had summoned muscle and closed the trap. Who were these newcomers? He could not tell...except they all had that faint sheen to their eyes.

“Arrest this man!” Pupin tried to tackle him. He managed to get an arm free. Grabbing a pitcher of ice water, he flung it in Pupin's face. Others made a rush for him. With a yell, he jumped up onto the large table out of their reach.  

“Leave him alone, you fools,” Hugo protested, trying to intervene.

Jumping down on the other side, Niko picked up a wooden chair and swung it around, keeping his attackers at bay. He had always been able to handle himself in a fight. He wasn't portly and soft like these others.

“Gentlemen, stop this outrageous behavior at once,” Davidson cried, but no one was listening.

Someone else could be heard yelling into the telephone receiver: “Police, come quick! There's a riot at the Engineers' Club!”

Niko took out Clara's pocket-sized inductor and fired. A blue flash and an electric sizzle filled the room, pushing the attackers back momentarily. He took advantage of their hesitation to grab a lamp with a heavy marble base.

He heaved it through the window and leaped up to the sill. Broken glass sliced his hands, but that did not prevent him from making his escape through the opening.
Wiry as a spider.
The others, not willing to shred their clothing and flesh, had to detour through the main entrance.

He jumped out onto the sidewalk and fled into the garden pathways of Bryant Park. A shouting mob came after him. Niko knocked one of the wrought-iron tables into their path, leaped over the low fence into one of the ivy-filled garden plots. A few of the gentlemen headed round the other way to cut him off.

He thought he could outrun them...except that another mob was coming to head him off from Fifth Avenue.
Just too many—coming too fast!
 

An elderly woman sat on a nearby park bench, her face hidden by a large hat. She casually reached for her umbrella and aimed it at the charging mob. An invisible pulse shot out and knocked them flat.

“Sweet dreams,” she said.

Dear Lord. It's Clara!
 

Niko turned and fled up 42nd Street. A group of men appeared from the doorway of a brownstone. Something about their clothes and posture shouted
Police
.

He tried a detour around the New York Library, running up the stone steps.

“He went up that way,” a bystander cried, and the mob of lawmen were on him. “You there!” One of them reached into his suit pocket. “Stop or I'll shoot!”

Oh dear.
To stop a whole crowd, he'd have to use another weapon he'd built. He ducked behind a large stone lion, reached into the backpack and brought out a cylinder studded with buttons.

He fired it at the mob of pursuers. A sudden pulse shot out, appearing as a faintly glowing ring that expanded quickly. It hit the throng and knocked most of them flat. They lay there holding their ears, writhing on the ground.

“Supersonic pulse.” It was painful to the ears, enough to incapacitate a man for awhile. But it wouldn't take anyone's life. Because Nikola was not
evil
.

But he still wasn't safe, because quite a few bystanders had seen him. He began to run.

After six blocks he had to catch his breath and consider his next move. Niko had memorized most of New York City: subways, tram lines, electrical conduits. The nearest conduit entrance was ten blocks away.

On 36th Street, New York's Finest made another attempt on him. Several plainclothesmen emerged from an alleyway to head him off. Across the street, a few more men in dark suits and vests had stepped out of an open-topped Packard with white-wall tires.

Behind him, a black Ford Model T pulled up to the curb. Niko stepped into a doorway and waited for the gentlemen to emerge from the alley.