Wonder of the Worlds

by Sesh Heri

  Now the wooden frame surrounded a square opening about eight inches across. It would appear to a casual observer that a grown man—or even a full- grown boy the size of Houdini—could not pass through that space, but Houdini

  192

  began to do just this very thing. He lay on his back, put his head and arms through the opening, squeezed his shoulders together, but the opening was not large enough for him to pass through. He squeezed his shoulders a second time. Still, his bulk was too large. He had hoped it would be easier, but it was not going to be easier. He squeezed his shoulders together again, and then continued putting pressure on his left shoulder until he completely dislocated his upper arm bone from his shoulder socket. The pain was sharp and searing. Another person would have screamed, but Houdini didn’t scream. His jaws were locked tight, his lips sealed, his breath passing through his nostrils. He was slowly wiggling through the opening, hanging upside down about sixty or seventy feet up from the concrete f loor with a dislocated arm. The only thing holding him up was the friction between his body and the surrounding wooden frame. He was through the opening up to his chest. He got his arms free and he tried swinging his left arm to snap it back in its socket. Every movement was fiery agony to him.

  Now Houdini felt his feet go up in the air. The full weight of his body was on the wooden frame. He heard a creaking, and knew that the wood was getting ready to crack and split; in another moment the frame would crack; the opening would widen; his body would slide through the opening and fall straight down head first to the cement floor sixty feet below. Houdini kept swinging his arms, but he could not relocate his left arm in its socket. He suddenly stopped wiggling. He could feel the weight of his body begin to drive him down through the opening at a faster, uncontrollable rate. Then the wooden frame cracked. Houdini plunged downward—head down— toward the cement pavement.

  President Cleveland had a hansom cab waiting for us downstairs in front of the hotel entrance. Tesla and I jumped into it, and we sped off to the train station. There, we boarded one of those twelve-minute express cars that Houdini, Lillie, and Ade had just taken ahead of us. Neither Tesla nor I said a word to the other. I sat next to the window and watched the buildings flash past us, then a street crossing, then more f lashing buildings, then another crossing, then more buildings. Our track rose up along an earthen embankment, passed the Midway Plaisance, and then began a long loop until we came into the terminal station of the World’s Fair. Tesla got up and rushed out of the car, glancing back only once to be sure that I was still behind him. As we went through the station, I had to break into a little trot to keep up with Tesla’s brisk stride. “Tesla,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Slow down a little.”

  Tesla said nothing, but kept up his brisk pace as I raced after him down the stairs and all the way out of the station. Up ahead I saw a hansom cab. Tesla raised his long arm, the driver raised his hat, and Tesla grabbed me by

  193

  my arm and dragged me along in a run toward the cab. We piled into it, I, gasping for breath. “I told you I wasn’t up to this!” I groaned.

  Tesla said nothing, but the driver touched up the horses and we were off like a bullet. “Who’s the driver up there?” I asked. “A Pinkerton man,” Tesla said. “He drives like a Pinkerton man,” I said.

  Houdini hung from the wooden frame of the skylight. The lip of the frame had splintered, and Houdini had plunged through it until he caught his fall with the back of his legs hooked around the frame’s outside edge. He hung this way for a moment, like a circus acrobat on a trapeze swing, slowly swinging back and forth by the crook of his legs on the bottom edge of the wooden frame. Kolman Czito had heard the crack of the window frame while he was inside the airship checking the engine, and he had charged out of the ship with his revolver drawn. He looked everywhere for the source of the sound, every- where but straight up. He circled the airship twice, peering about, while Houdini hung overhead watching Czito’s every move. Czito stood for a moment, looking to his left, then to his right, trying to listen for a sound. He heard nothing. Finally, Czito turned with his revolver held high, and walked stealthily to the front of the building. Houdini slowly and silently released his breath. He had stopped breathing when Czito appeared below. Now Houdini began breathing in long, slow draws. At the same time, he slowly swung his left arm around in circles until he felt the sudden, relieving “pop” of his upper arm bone snapping into his shoulder socket. After this, he continued to hang there for a few seconds, breathing slowly. Then he began to swing back and forth in his upside down position. After a couple of swings, he reached for the top of the iron truss a foot or so away to the right of his hands. On his first try, his hands missed the truss by a few inches. He swung back again to the left, then to the right, reached, and his hands touched the top of the truss, but slipped off; his palms were drenched in sweat.

  Houdini stopped and hung still. His whole body was drenched in perspira- tion. It was trickling down his chest and back, running along the front and back of his neck, covering his face, soaking his hair, and, from his dangling hair, falling in drops down to the cement f loor sixty or seventy feet directly below him; there, it splashed, and formed a little puddle. Houdini listened to the little splashes, and expected to see the man with the revolver return any second; he was sure the sound was echoing throughout the whole warehouse. Now he began to swing again, utterly exhausted; the strength in his knees was beginning to go. Houdini’s face was blood-red, glistening wet, his gray-blue eyes

  194

  wide with the agony of his tortured knees, the agony of his dizziness and nausea. He was fighting—fighting Fear—and behind Fear stood Death. And he saw Death laughing.

  Houdini was swinging fast now: left, right, left, right, a pendulum of f lesh and human will. His mind put up the “closed” sign. He was no longer thinking; he was only feeling; he was feeling everything, ever ything he had ever felt in his life all in this one, swinging instant—everything but Fear. His hands were ahead of him. He saw his fingers moving toward the iron truss, moving very, ver y slowly. He saw his fingers and thumbs open- ing wide, two fans held out over the truss. The fingers and thumbs began to close as they hung in space. Houdini noticed the hair on the back of his thumbs, faint slender hairs. He saw that his fingers were coming close to the truss, and closing upon it. Then—it was as if Houdini came up out of water—and at the same instant everything around him sped up. He heard the rasp of his breath in and out. His palms gripped the iron truss with every ounce of strength left in his body. He pulled his body toward the truss, and his legs came out of the window frame and dropped straight down. Now he was hanging from the truss, his legs swinging in the air. Houdini kicked his legs forward and hooked them into the cross-bracing of the truss.

  Houdini began climbing down along the upper arched beam of the truss until he reached its end, and then put his foot down on the first bolt projecting from the iron column. He moved down the column, stepped to the next bolt, moved down, stepped again to another bolt, and kept going slowly and steadily downward until he climbed all the way down the column to the f loor of the warehouse, just as if the column had been a ladder. When Houdini reached the f loor, he stood up, slowly bowed at the waist with his arms extended, and then came back up with his arms extending and stretching high over his head. He slowly lowered his arms, breathing deeply, and stood that way for several moments. Then he smiled; he was looking at the open door of Tesla’s airship; it was wide open, just the way Czito had left it when he had charged out of the airship. Houdini took a step to the left, looked toward the front of the warehouse, then turned to the steel door on the south wall. It was a simple affair locked with only three steel bolts. Houdini carefully slid the bolts back and opened the door. He saw George Ade crouching next to a bush. Ade saw Houdini at that same instant and got up and rushed to the door, handing Houdini his coat and hat. Houdini stepped back into the warehouse and Ade waved to Lillie who was still standing out on the street talking to
the two policemen. Lillie was saying, “I think I just need to walk it off.” “Are you sure you’re all right, Miss?” Officer O’Hara asked. “I think so,” Lillie said. “Thank you. You’ve been very kind.”

  195

  Lillie limped away. Ade saw that the two policemen were watching her. He retreated back inside the warehouse and carefully closed the door. Lillie kept limping down the street at a slow but steady pace. When she reached the patrol wagon, she came along next to it, went past the horses, and then stepped toward the curb and out of the line of sight of the two policemen. Lillie stopped at the curb and looked back. She couldn’t see the policemen from where she stood; her view of them was blocked by the patrol wagon. And this, of course, meant that the policemen could not see her. She began to count to ten slowly, just as Houdini had instructed, and, when she reached ten, she took a small step out to the street and looked around the edge of the patrol wagon. She saw the policemen talking to each other and gesturing broadly with their hands. Lillie realized that they were describing to each other what had just happened; in a minute or two they would be disagreeing on some detail and this would serve as subject matter for conversation for the rest of their watch. Lillie stepped back and went between two bushes, and then made her way out to the lake shore. From there she marched north along the shore until she reached the south wall of the warehouse. There, she came up along the wall, passed the fire escape, and stopped at the door. Lillie pulled at the handle of the door and it swung open. George Ade came out from behind it with a big grin. “Well?” Ade whispered, “Come on if you’re coming,” and he took Lillie by the arm, pulled her inside, and closed the door. Lillie, Ade, and Houdini stood looking at the airship.

  Lillie raised her Kodak, and aimed the box camera at the airship which shined brightly from the rays of the noonday sun pouring in from the skylight windows directly overhead. Lillie was about to snap a picture when she felt a hand on her back shoving her forward. She looked around and saw that it was Houdini, and that he was shoving Ade forward as well; all the while Houdini was shaking his head. Houdini raised a finger to his lips, and then pointed to the front of the ware- house. Just at that same moment Lillie heard the footsteps. All three of them—Lillie, Ade, and Houdini—rushed up the steps of the airship and through her open door.

  Kolman Czito approached the airship with his revolver held in the air. He was sure he had heard footsteps—several footsteps. He looked about carefully, listening all the while. All within his sight was stillness and silence. Then he heard a creak of metal. He spun about. Czito pointed his revolver at the open door of the airship, slowly ascended the steps, and peered through the ship’s door. The lower deck was still and quiet. Czito stepped inside, looked about, and then went to the steel ladder and looked up through the hatch to the top deck. He listened again, heard nothing, but decided to ascend the ladder anyway. He went up slowly, climbing

  196

  the ladder with his left hand on each rung, and his right hand holding and aiming his revolver up toward the open hatch.

  Czito’s head emerged through the hatch. He stopped on the ladder and looked up and down the length of the upper deck. He saw nothing; he heard nothing. He listened a moment longer, and then descended the ladder. Lillie, Ade, and Houdini had made it up the ladder to the upper deck. There, Ade spied a closet door near the steps leading up to the pilothouse. He slid the door open, pushed Lillie into it, and went in behind her. He turned back to slide the door shut and saw that Houdini had disappeared somewhere. Ade slid shut the door of the closet. Now Lillie and Ade stood face to face in the closet. A little grilled window in the closet opened out on to the pilothouse. From this grilled window, they had a partial view of the pilothouse interior; they could glimpse part of the pilot’s wheel and a few levers and controls. They stood there waiting for a moment, then heard a clang of metal below followed by the metallic clatter of rapid footsteps entering the lower deck of the airship and ascending the ladder to the upper deck.

  It was Tesla and me; we had jumped out of the hansom cab; the Pinkerton man had pushed the two policemen aside, Tesla had opened the front door of the warehouse with his key, and the two of us had rushed into the ware- house and past Kolman Czito—to whom Tesla barked as we passed, “Prepare for f light!” As Tesla and I raced up the steps to the pilothouse, I heard a clang below and knew that Czito had closed and locked the door of the airship. I came into the pilothouse and stood before the wheel. Tesla stood by my side. In a mo- ment, Czito came running in and closed the switch that opened the big sliding doors of the warehouse.

  Out beyond the pilothouse windows the big doors of the warehouse be- gan sliding open, revealing the waters of Lake Michigan and the blue sky above them. Tesla said to Czito, “Set the coils for half power. We want to disable their ship and bring it down in a controlled landing, not destroy it. We can’t risk exploding the crystal while in Earth’s atmosphere.” I looked over at Czito. He looked pale as a poached egg, and his head was trembling. It made me wonder what I looked like. Tesla said, “Anytime, Mark.”

  I stood before the wheel, looking down, shaking my head, and said, “I’ve got to be the craziest ass on the planet to agree to this!” I let out a long sigh, and looked over at Tesla. He was watching me with great intensity in his eyes. I turned and closed the starter switch to the airship’s engine and began to hear the engine’s undulating hum. “Take her below the surface of the lake,” Tesla said.

  197

  I touched the wheel with my fingertip and the pedal with my toe, and the ship started through the doors. I let her clear the warehouse completely, and then took her straight down to the surface of the lake. We began submerging rapidly. The waters of the lake splashed in front of the pilothouse windows, engulfed them, and then we were under in a gray haze streaked with beams of sunlight. I pushed the ship forward. Up ahead, schools of fish darted away in front of the pilothouse windows. I pushed the ship on forward at a slightly faster rate. Now there was only a grayish haze. We moved through the haze for a minute or two. In a moment Tesla said, “We’re far enough out from the city. Take her up.” I steered the ship upward, and we broke the surface of the lake in a great splash.

  Above us were white clouds and blue sky. I aimed the prow of the airship for the clouds. Then we were upon the clouds, then inside of them; it was a sudden gray world, a mist thicker than any London fog. I pushed the airship on up through the cloud and we broke through to its top. Here was a vast bed of cotton laid out under the bright glare of the sun with clear, blue sky over- head. Tesla took out his little tin box, drew out its steel rod, switched it on, and said, “This will be your compass, Mark. Follow the f lashes of light.” Tesla took the tin box and mounted it upon a pedestal in front of the pilot’s wheel. “If it stops f lashing,” Tesla said, “pivot it about until it picks up the position of the crystal again.”

  “And what’s its present indications?” I asked. “Straight ahead,” Tesla said.

  I pushed the airship forward. Up ahead was a cloud that was shaped like a fish. We f lew toward the cloud, and as we approached it, the appearance of its shape changed from a fish to that of the body of a giant woman pouring out a bucket of wash water. We entered the gray interior of that cloud and broke out its other side to the bright sunlight. Then we saw it—far away in the sky—a black cylinder! “Well, I’ll be damned,” I said.

  Tesla went aft of the pilothouse and came forward again with a spyglass in his hand; he raised it to his eye and looked through it out the pilothouse window. In a moment, the black cylinder of the foreign airship came into the circle view of Tesla’s spyglass. Tesla gazed upon the cylinder with great inten- sity, as if he were trying to memorize its every detail. All the while I was slowly approaching the object of Tesla’s scrutiny. Tesla handed me the spyglass. I took it, looked through it, and found the black cylinder in the circle view. The thing was a black, featureless, windowless cylinder; it was not cigar-shaped, but f lat on both of its ends. And even I

  198


  noticed something that was very meaningful to Tesla. The foreign airship had two metal rods on its top, just like the fancy lightning rods or “aerial conduc- tors” on Tesla’s ship. I thought this was mighty strange. I said, “The thing has lightning rods just like ours.”

  “Yes,” Tesla said. “I know. I’m going up to the gun tower. Maintain your course.” Before I could say a word, Tesla was f lying up the steel ladder that went up to the gun tower, a little one-man room mounted atop the dome of the pilothouse. I brought our airship on toward the black cylinder. It seemed to be hanging there in the sky by an invisible thread, the bait on the fishing line of a giant. I slowed us down and stopped our airship in the sky. The foreign airship hung in the sky not more than a hundred feet from the bow of our ship. I could see the texture of her hull, a rough, black something; it could have been metal, it could have been soot-blackened stone. The thing just hung there in the blue sky. Then from some point on that rough, black hull shot a white bolt of electricity; it reached out like the claw of some evil bird of prey and grabbed hold of the bow of our airship and shook us with a thunderclap. [Fzt! - boom -beroom - boom!]