Rye Ironstone: Mother Tesla's Death Ray

by John Wilkerson

  The cage suspended from the ceiling was important, but for the life of me I couldn’t put my finger to why. I chewed on the problem while I worked.

  Tesla theorized he could charge the atmosphere with electricity and build devices to draw from the stored power. The science community eventually proved him wrong. What if the scientists were wrong?

  Mother Mary shot lightning bolts. Was it safe to assume the death ray helped create the lightning? I studied the room a bit closer. It was reasonable to assume Tesla played with the death ray in this cavern. Why? Sneaky mad scientist leapt to the forefront of my thoughts. The cage allowed him to discharge the electricity. It was a Faraday cage. The lightning could be controlled by grounding the cage to the earth. The metal trashcan where I kept my radios operated in the same manner.

  I was on to something, not quite sure what, but it was coming.

  After about thirty minutes, Gael announced herself like a trumpet. She looked like someone told her the secret to the universe and the answer wasn’t pretty. “Next time you decide to play good-cop, bad-cop, we need a signal.”

  Gael glared. You know the kind of look a parent gives when they want to point you in the right direction without using the belt.

  “I…I know. Sorry.” My shoulders slumped, and I felt the adrenalin ease its grip. “I’m a bit out of my element. It’s tough going from security guard to special agent in twenty-four hours. How did you make your transition? Was it during the war?”

  Gael’s gaze measured me. “Now’s not the time to discuss that, but yes, it was during the war. Your Granddad helped me, and I promised I’d do the same for you. Don’t change the subject. What you did was unprofessional and extremely dangerous.”

  I plopped down in a chair, ignored her scolding, and tossed Grumpy’s pistol on the desk top. “I want to shoot the pistol at the cage.”

  Gael’s eyes flashed pools of white. “Didn’t you hear anything I said? You know. The dangerous decision making problem you have.”

  “I’m telling you first,” I replied.

  “Get back to the topic of you threatening to execute the young man in the next room. Your toy gun is not important. Grow-up, Rye. You’re going to get both of us killed.”

  I clenched my teeth and tasted the bitter flavor of anger. “It is important, the gun, not the kid.”

  “You’re swimming in the deep end and choking for air, Rye.” Gael’s animated face achieved the most interesting shade of red.

  Deep down I knew I was on to something. Gael needed to understand. “The death ray is tied to this pistol. It has to be.”

  “What does any of this have to do with shooting the firearm at the ceiling?”

  “There’s no magazine release on the pistol. It doesn’t shoot bullets. I think it shoots electric rays.”

  “You think it’s a ray gun?”

  “Why not? We’ve been looking for a giant death ray. Who’s to say Tesla didn’t make pistol size ones as well.”

  Gael didn’t answer at first. She looked to be chewing over what I said. “Rye, you’re a loose cannon. You’ve been thrust into this investigation without the proper training. Mr. Dallas and I are allowing you a lot of liberties.”

  She was right about me making rash decisions, but as I saw it, someone needed to push the envelope if we were going to solve this Mother Tesla thing. “Look, Gael, I may be brash, but I’ve gotten this far with my hunches.”

  Gael pulled over a chair and sat beside me. The red receded to only flush her neck. “I can’t disagree about your hunches, but the stakes keep getting higher. Are you losing sight of the fact Mother Mary has the whole town locked off from the rest of the world?”

  “I don’t think I am.” I leaned forward and met her gaze. Dr. Gael Gale was a smart woman. I chose my words carefully. “You need me and my unorthodox approach. We have no support. Dallas is tight lipped about what inroads the military is making. What is he not telling us, or me?”

  “Rye—”

  “Hear me out.” I put my hand up to stop her. My words erupted like a shout. “I’m sure you got lots of good information from the kid. How much are you going to tell me? Five-to-one says we need to get troops on the ground and storm the church compound, and I hate to say it, you and I need to go along.”

  I was ready to say more, but Gael placed her hand on my forearm. Her touch was warm and comforting, relaxing.

  “I’m listening. You start,” I said.

  “We have a timetable, and it’s short. Mother Mary is planning to use the death ray to attack most of the state. She and her followers placed amplifying collector arrays in strategic locations around the state. The death ray’s power will grow exponentially. They plan to trigger the attack at dawn.”

  I sat silent.

  Gael’s grip lingered. Patience returned to my mind.

  She organized her thoughts. “We need a plan to shut down the death ray before it can be used.”

  “I have an idea,” I said.

  Gael released my forearm. “Tread lightly, Rye. This is the big leagues, with real consequences. I may be open to one of your crazy ideas, but, and that’s a big but, Mr. Dallas must approve our next move.”

  I felt my blood starting to boil. “Why is Dallas the only person coming into town?”

  “What does it matter?” Gael snapped back.

  I answered her with my own question. “Does Mother Mary want the army to attack?

  “No. The town is shut down for different reasons.” Gael drew small circles with one finger on the desktop. It was obvious she was making a decision.

  “We need to attack, with troops.” I spoke up before she did.

  Gael shifted in her seat. “It’s enlightening to see what swims around in your brain, Rye. It scares me a little.”

  Spittle blended with my words. “Don’t flatter me. Now you’re the one changing topic.”

  “The other thing is the pistol you took off Mr. Keith, the guy you shot.”

  “Shot, not killed?” I asked.

  Gael gave me the slightest of grins. “Yes, killed. This one seems to be dead.”

  I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. It’s strange how you can feel good about something so tragic.

  Gale folded her hands in her lap and spoke in an even tone, like a debriefing. “Rye, you need training. However, with your skills you’ve brought us further in our Tesla investigation in the past three days than we as an organization have come in years. Too much information has been held back, causing you to make assumptions with little factual evidence. And you’re doing a pretty good job at it I might add.”

  “Hey…” I started to say.

  Gael placed her hand back on my forearm. “Rye, it’s time to be quiet.”

  My mood eased and a thought started to form. Gael was master of more than one special skill. She could? I struggled with the image. Soothe. Was she soothing me and my quick-to-action tendencies? I thought back to how many times she’d touched my arm or my shoulder. I wanted to get angry, but her hand gently squeezed. Oh Gael, you sly devil.

  “We’ll talk about this later,” I said as I cast my eyes to her hand on my arm.

  The sweet lady smiled back and gave a slight nod.

  “You can take your hand off my arm now,” I said. “I think I’ve figured out how this works. I’m the trick pony and you’re the leash.”

  Gael removed her hand and placed it on her lap.

  “Please don’t do that again.” I crossed my arms, sat further back in the chair, and waited.

  Gael ignored her transgression. “There’s more to the story. The young man helped confirm much of what we’ve learned the past few days.”

  “Just the facts, ma’am.” I couldn’t resist.

  “Back in the early forties, Tesla sent a letter to President Roosevelt. In the letter he spoke about placing ‘collector devices’ around Washington. He said they were for protection. To ensure his research projects wouldn’t be used without his permission, specifically military use. He went o
n to claim the death ray was real, and its unapproved use would trigger those collector devices, rendering Washington a heap of charred rubble.”

  Possibilities swam in my mind.

  “You see our problem?” Gael began again. “If Mother Mary fires her death ray in a wider arc, we run the risk of frying all of Washington. The military has good reason to be hesitant. Some residual activity has already been felt in the capitol.”

  I wanted to jump out of the chair, grab my rifle, and attack. Was this a wise choice? Maybe. Far too many maybes in my life as of late.

  I could sense Gael waiting for me to speak.

  “Bug-hunt?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid I agree with you,” Gael replied.

  **

  Things cascaded quickly. Gael took charge of the prisoner and Grumpy’s body while I loaded the truck with the crates labeled for the small barn. The curiosities from the desktop were bundled together and placed in the cab of the truck. Gael would drop everything off with Mr. Dallas on the way back to the fallout shelter.

  Every time I went topside Gael was inspecting another item from the desk-top collection.

  “Rye,” she said, looking up from the wristwatch radios. “Put this on. I think they still work. When you go down to the lab next time, try to call me.”

  “Heck yeah,” I said, and strapped the radio thingy next to my wristwatch.

  The elevator was a quick ride down.

  I pushed the button Gael showed me. “This is Rye. I’m in the basement.” My little voice chuckled. Here I was in a basement trying to contact someone with a radio. Déjà vu twisted me gut.

  “Great, they work.” Gael’s voice came in loud-and-clear. “You about done?”

  “One more load. I’ll lockup. Give me ten.”

  “Roger that. Valkyrie out.”

  Who the heck was Valkyrie?

  I looked up at the ceiling in the lab. The cage was made up of large bands of hammered copper with fine mesh riveted across the open spaces.

  No time like the present. I pulled the pistol from my pocket and pointed the unknown weapon upward.

  A buzzing sound rocked my ears and the tangy smell of ozone filled the air. The best part was the multi-colored flash of lightning erupting from the tip of the barrel. It launched skyward, and danced around the copper cage.

  Dang it was cool. Carnival freak-show cool.

  I fired three quick shots toward random junk hanging on the walls. The belt-rigs with brass boxes started flashing colorful lights. Several winked on and off in the same rhythmic pattern.

  I stepped back a few steps and aimed the pistol at one of the rigs. Fizz-pop—the multi-color electrical bolt leapt from the end of the pistol and struck the rig. The lightning bolt quickly dissipated.

  My appreciation for Tesla rose. He not only created a ray gun, he also created a way to be protected from the ray gun. Gael was going to love this.

  I slung the half-dozen belt-rigs over my shoulder and headed up the long corridor to the surface.

  The ray gun felt warm in my pocket.

  Chapter Ten

  It was still a few hours before dawn, and if we were lucky, Mother Tesla might be sleeping. A man could hope. But deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew we were in for a gun-banging blue-lightning rodeo. It won’t be bad. I was telling myself little lies to build my confidence.

  Gael and I kept low behind a small knoll. Mother Tesla’s farmstead lay before us. In the distance, a glowing vapor-light hung from the larger barn.

  Cows watched us as they chewed their cud. The night’s chill moistened the pasture.

  The knot in my gut tightened. “Do we sneak down, kick in the doors, and return fire, or what?”

  She sighed. “Mr. Ironstone, we must not harm the innocent. Well, at least not intentionally.” Gael handed back my monocular. “Let’s follow the ravine to the small farmhouse. Mr. Dallas should have his men in position shortly.”

  My voice cracked. “I bet Mother Tesla lives at the small house. Not the big one.”

  Gael chuckled. “You were gung-ho a few hours ago. Getting a bit nervous are you?”

  “No.” I lied. My problem was what we do if Electric Mary was home.

  “Stick to the plan, Rye. Mr. Dallas’ teams are going to storm the big house, and both barns. We talked about this earlier. Grow a spine.” She inched away from the ridgeline.

  Gael was starting to spook me.

  As we approached the back of the property, I stole a peek over my shoulder. A group of commandos in camouflage and combat gear dashed across the open field, their silhouettes cutting the glow of the barn-light. I hoped we played our cards right and pinched Mother Tesla between us, preferably underground. The thought of lightning shooting into the sky made my skin crawl.

  Gael and I took position crouched by the back porch. A soft yellow bug-light illuminated the stoop.

  Movement through the window broke my calm.

  I whispered at Gael. “Somebody’s up.”

  “Front or back of house?”

  “Not sure. Listen for a toilet to flush,” I said.

  “Really?”

  “It’s three in the morning. Isn’t that when old people get up to pee?”

  Gale muffled a snort. “We need to work on your social skills.”

  Sure enough, a minute or two later, a toilet flushed.

  “Okay, Rye, one more time. It’s your first time. You’re my support, nothing more. Got it?”

  I clenched my jaw. “Yeah, I’m your bodyguard. You’re going to capture all the prisoners while I stand at the door and watch.”

  Gael turned a little and softened her voice. “Don’t change the plan. Things go bad when the plan changes.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I promise.” My ego hurt. I’d come this far, and now she was making me watch her do all the fun stuff.

  Gael climbed the stairs. I moved from my concealment and caught the door from her. The rifle slung over my shoulder bumped against a brass box attached to the belt-rig from Tesla’s laboratory. Holly felt good in my hand.

  The interior of the house was dark except for the faint illumination filtering through the windows.

  Gael shined a penlight into the next room. Her Uzi clutched firmly in the other hand. She eased forward.

  I let the door close without a sound.

  We stepped into the kitchen. Pots and pans were stacked on the counter. I could smell the musky scent of rising bread. The wood-floor creaked.

  Gael quickened her pace. We entered a dining area and made our way around the table. The space opened onto the living room. It contained a fireplace but no TV. A large framed picture of Jesus hung over the mantle. To the left was a doorway.

  I stood at her shoulder as she poked her head around the jamb.

  “Two doors. Left—open. Right—closed. Toilet straight ahead—empty,” she whispered.

  I tapped twice on her shoulder indicating I understood.

  Gael continued. “Go to the right and hold the door closed while I deal with the room on the left.”

  I tapped in agreement.

  Gael moved like a tigress on the prowl. She disappeared into the open room, while I moved down the hall and grasped the doorknob.

  Whatever she did was quiet.

  About two minutes later, she met me at the closed door. She held a small bottle and handkerchief. I recognized the sweet lingering scent. I’d used ether to get cold diesel engines to start.

  Gael nodded.

  I turned the knob, pushed the door open, and stepped aside.

  As she entered, I could see young children sleeping in a couple sets of bunk beds along the far wall.

  Gael slowly turned and exited the room, pulling the door closed.

  I retreated down the hall and let her pass.

  We exited out the back of the house and took position behind a parked flatbed truck with a fuel tank on the bed.

  I held my tongue.

  Gael pulled up her jacket sleeve and pressed the talk button on the wri
st-radio. “Valkyrie reports success. One adult secured. Four children sleeping, and need pickup. Ready to proceed.”

  The radio on her wrist crackled with a voice I didn’t recognize. “Extraction team en route. Proceed to prearranged—” The radio went silent.

  Several muffled booms broke the nights calm. I shifted my gaze to the small barn. Forty yards from us, blue-light pulsated between gaps in the wood siding. The stubby antenna tower farther in the field, shimmered with blue sparks

  Gael pressed the button on the wrist-radio. “This is Valkyrie. Are there changes to our orders?”

  “Valkyrie, move-in behind your hookup team. Secure area, assist as needed.” The deadpan voice responded.

  “Roger that. Valkyrie out.”

  Gael stared deep into my eyes. She was all business. Professor Gale, secret agent was on a mission. “We’re in the game now.”

  “Let’s rodeo, sunshine.” I took the rifle off my shoulder and checked the chamber.

  Gael bolted toward the small barn.

  It seems I spend a lot of time chasing Gael. So be it.

  We approached the barn at an angle. I flattened my chest to the siding and peered through the cracks. “Trapdoor is open. Smoke coming out of the hole. Blue-fez guy dead in the corner.”

  Gael palmed her Uzi. “On me. Go.”

  She poked her head in, surveyed the area, and then moved to the trapdoor.

  I was hot on her heels, but swung wide, passing close enough to the fez guy to confirm he was dead.

  A set of newly-built wooden-stairs led down through several twelve-foot diameter, steel culvert sections. The stairs circled around the inside of the pipe and ended about forty feet below ground.

  Over my head, a chain hoist hung from the rafters.

  Pulsating blue-light danced within the whips’ of smoke billowing from the hole. Acrid fumes made my head spin.

  We headed down. Gael led.

  At the bottom, a hallway continued into intermittent darkness. Every ten feet, sconces lined the whitewashed cinder block walls. Pooling amber-light illuminated the corridor. Two smoldering bodies dressed in commando uniforms were sprawled on the floor. Red star badges of Special Bureau One adorned their sleeve. The smell was something between nauseating and disgusting.