Tesla's Signal (51 page)

Finally she took out her own electric gun and the two of them managed to escape the press of the crowd. They rushed out the back exit.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Niko muttered.

“No it wasn't. It was the best possible proof of what I was saying. Now they'll all stay away from tomorrow's show. Maybe it will even be canceled.”

They caught up with Miss Ophelia behind the Foundry building. “Gosh, my first stage performance was certainly unforgettable.”

Clara patted the girl's shoulder. “You did wonderfully. If you ever get invited back, Ophelia...maybe you can retrieve my Theremin. I didn't have time to get it.”

***

“I guess now we'll have to leave Phoenixville,” Clara said.

“Well, it was time for us to go anyway. We've accomplished everything we needed to. I'm going to disassemble the Tele-men and start packing.”

“What a shame. Miss Isabelle's cooking was so delicious,” said Clara. “I hope she won't be mad that we left in such a hurry. She's been so kind to us.”

She found a scrap of paper and wrote a note.
To Miss Isabelle and the Phoenix Lodge: Thank you and God bless you all for your help. Forgive us for not saying goodbye, but we have gone to fight the Forces of Darkness. When Earth is free of this threat, we can all sit and talk about the Wisdom of Atlantis. PS. Ophelia. I'll come back and give you a Theremin lesson.
 

Clara aka Miss Clearlight

“Oh well, at least that
shmendrik
Griffin won't get his hands up my skirt,” Clara said with a fake pout. “Oh, there's something I wanted to show you, Niko.” She handed him the newspaper, folded to page seven. “Remember when we were talking about fine crystals for triangulation and logic gate circuitry? Look at this. Here's the crystal we need.”

Niko read the article.
Romanov Crown Jewel Collection To Be Displayed at Philadelphia Art Museum
.

Clara stood over his shoulder. “My relatives in Kiev cut those crystals and built the settings.”

“Really! You've got quite the talented family.”

“Yep. Did Czar Nicholas Romanov ever pay them? Nope—just sent Cossacks to smash our shops and start pogroms. So I'd say those crystals belong to me,” said Clara. “Why don't we go and get them?”

“What?
You want us to rob a museum?”

“Sure—why not?”

“Because I'm not a common criminal.” Niko had a look of injured dignity on his face.

“Indeed not,” Clara returned. “You're Public Enemy Number One!”

“Clara, we're supposed to be saving the world.”

“Yes—that's why we need the Czar's crown jewels. If we told that
putz
, I'm sure he'd understand.” Her lips twitched in sarcasm.

Niko said nothing. A picture came into his mind: a triangulation system to focus the energy from his transmitter array, using a large, perfect crystal. A crystal whose perfection had never before been seen...until he looked at the picture next to the article. Immediately Niko knew that no amount of protest or denial was going to suffice. He and Clara had to have those diamonds!

“I suppose you already have some plan for pulling off this heist without getting us thrown in jail?”  

Clara came over and put her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Nikola, when it comes to staying out of jail, I'm the queen. I've avoided cops in four countries. Why don't you just relax and let me plan this out.”

Niko began to smile. “Maybe not this time, Clara.
I'm
the one who's the Public Enemy, the Mad Scientist and the Devil himself. Shouldn't I get to mastermind at least one real crime?”

They shared a wicked grin.

***

The Saucer floated above the river, as gently as a cloud.

“What a shame we had to leave the Roadster in Phoenixville.” Clara felt a stab of regret. “But...I like the Saucer even better.”

This would be the first real mission for the Saucer. Not in a hundred years could any police flivvers catch this sleek, shining marvel of the sky! “If they see us,” said Niko, “they will just think we're a ship of those accursed Angels that they all worship.”

“It's poetic justice,” Clara agreed. “The aliens have been committing crimes and blaming us. Now we'll turn the tables!”

“Target spotted,” said Niko. “Philadelphia Art Museum.”

They landed at a secluded spot on the banks of the Schuylkill River and began assembling Clara's prize construction: the Tele-man called
Golem
. He was indeed a marvel of her engineering skill: a great golden robot that could walk forward at a command, send a picture view of his progress via the large glass aperture on his forehead, and receive commands via the antenna on his head.  

Clara and Niko had gone over the whole process of giving commands to the Tele-men via a pattern of electrical off- and on-switches. This would be the first real test of the concept. As the designer of the robot, Clara had the honor of directing him.

“All right, my fine Golem,” she spoke into a transmitter watch, “go forward and bring me my treasure: the Romanov Crystal!”

She pressed a series of coded pulses that meant
Walk
. Through the camera transmission, she watched the progress of Golem as he headed up Kelly Drive. As it was after midnight, there would be few bystanders about. If anyone did notice—well, what could they do against a man made of metal?

The golden man reached the large circular promenade which surrounded the museum.
Turn right, thirty degrees,
Clara instructed. She watched a camera view of a couple getting into a horse-drawn carriage: probably a wealthy tycoon and his socially connected sweetheart. As Golem passed them, the horse shied and the couple seemed a bit unsettled, because it wasn't every day you saw a golden metallic man walking by. The man was probably thinking he'd had too much to drink.

Golem walked on while Clara watched the view from her Hamilton pocket watch glass. The Art Museum was a majestic edifice built in the style of the Parthenon, with rows of marble columns. It glowed a rich amber hue, lit by numerous wrought-iron street lamps. The ornate lamp posts dated back to the time of gas lanterns, but the bright electric lights within were powered by Tesla's alternating current. Just for tonight, Clara would have preferred something a little less bright.

Golem reached the marble steps of the Art Museum.
Climb
, Clara told the robot.

A security guard spotted the large metal man and seemed to be disturbed by the sight.
Walk,
Clara told Golem. A second security man appeared on the scene.

Golem reached the heavy wooden doors of the museum and Clara gave him a new command.
Smash!
 

Golem put out a massive fist and powered right through the door.

Several more security guards appeared. Their yelling faces looked comically distorted in Clara's small viewing glass. One of them raised a weapon, but Golem kept walking, because guns didn't bother the robot. Now Clara could see the interior of the Art Museum. Signs pointed to the Crown Jewels exhibit.
Turn Right
, she told her creation.
Lights On.
 

Her ever-obedient metal servant turned on his headlamp and entered a room filled with glittering cases. At the center of the room stood the biggest case of all. English and Cyrillic lettering proclaimed the identity of this famous collection: the Crown Jewels of Czar Nicholas Alexandrovich Romanov, the Czar of Russia, and the Czarina Alexandra. The treasures sat nested in a bed of blue velvet: a crystal nearly the size of Clara's fist, with all the little baby crystals clustered around it.
Perfect. Just what we need to concentrate the beams of our Teleforce rays!
 

Pick up target objects
, she told Golem.
Place in bag. Carry
. “Oh yes. Pick them all up and bring them to your mama.”

The security guards were going crazy; bells were probably ringing, but what could they do against a Tele-man made of metal?
Retrace route,
she told Golem, and the robot headed back outside with the loot, ignoring the police and their weapons.

As Golem came up Kelly Drive, one of the cops dared to grab him by his leg.
Repel,
Clara gave the command. Golem brushed the policeman off as if he were a fly, and kept walking.
Increase speed.
 

When the horde of pursuers got within sight, Clara picked up a wide-angle oscillator gun and aimed it at them. There would be no earsplitting sounds, no paralysis...just an overwhelming urge to visit the nearest bathroom facility. “Feeling indisposed, gentlemen?” One of Niko's more entertaining discoveries was the frequency that caused a loosening of the
bowels.

“Here he comes,” said Niko. “This might actually work—oh, wait! Golem's fallen down!”

“What happened?” Clara cried.

“It looks like he fell in a ditch,” Niko said. “Dropped the jewels. I've got to get them!” He made a sudden dash toward the fallen robot who carried their prize.

Clara heard a sudden shout and a gunshot.
Where'd that come from?
She had missed one of the cops. He'd been hiding behind a statue.

“You there! Freeze!”

The officer fired. She saw Niko grab his arm and dive for the pavement.
Oh no—is he hit?
Niko slid over the ground, making a grab for the loot. “Put yer hands up, buster,” the policeman yelled, coming out from behind a hedge.

“No,
you
put up
your
hands—schmuck!” Clara aimed another of her electric weapons at him. The policeman fell amid a burst of sparks. She dashed out to help Niko. “Are you shot?”

“I think. Grazed my arm...” Niko struggled to his feet, clutching something against his chest. “Get...the robot.”

She turned to her creation. Golem had tripped over a construction ditch which Clara had not seen.
Have to fine tune the navigation
. She pushed the Tele-man upright and turned back to help Niko.

They made it back to the Saucer, and Clara directed Golem inside. “Thank you, Golem, you were terrific,” she told the mechanical jewel thief. “All right, let's get out of here.” She pushed the throttle, and the Saucer lifted away from the scene of the crime.

“Miss Clara,” said Niko, “I have a gift for you.”

Smiling, he held out a bloodied hand. Within, on his palm, lay the perfect, gleaming crystal. She had seen it in a picture, and through a camera. But nothing compared to the exquisite beauty of the real thing.

“Oh gosh, it's beautiful!” She broke into a grin. “Why, this is the most romantic moment of a girl's life. The man of my dreams has just given me a diamond.”

***

“It looks like a clean wound. The bullet seems to have passed through,” said Clara, inspecting the wound by the light of a tiny induction bulb. She had cut away a piece of the sleeve; now she used it to wrap the wound.  “Once the bleeding stops, you'll be all right. But you have to keep it immobilized. Here, use this.” She took off one of her overall straps to make a crude sling.

“So you're a doctor, too.” Niko smiled in admiration.

“No, just a refugee and a gangster. I've seen bullet wounds before.”

As Niko had predicted, no one tried to pursue the Saucer. They had landed the craft on an island in the Schuylkill River. Little more than a sandbar, it was an uninhabited tangle of vegetation and flood debris. “But you'll need to rest. We should go back to Phoenixville.”

“No. We can't wait a minute longer.” He sat up straight, and Clara saw the lightning flashing in his eyes.

Once neat, polite and restrained, Niko had undergone a radical transformation. With no time for the barbershop, his hair had grown ragged and unruly. Sweat and grime covered his face, and a shadow of beard stubble darkened his cheeks. He was beginning to look like the outlaw everyone said he was. “We've got a mission to accomplish.” He bared his teeth in a snarl. “Now is the time.”

“You mean...we're ready for New York?”  

“As ready as we'll ever be.” He raised the induction gun over his head like a warrior with a sword. “By all the saints, it's time to throw those alien monsters off the planet.”

30: The Defense of Liberty

Niko held onto his wounded arm, trying not to pass out from the pain. But when he heard the faint pulses, he forgot his own condition. “Clara—the pulse-screen. G-go and check it.”

She brought the small panel out. Several green blips of light could be seen hovering around a target spot. Niko checked the distance settings, and his worst fears were confirmed. “The Martians have come to Philadelphia.”