by Mark Lingane
Nikola continued writing notes on the top of a large folder in the center of the desk, surrounded by piles of paperwork. Books were scattered on the desktop, opened at pages heavily marked with pen.
On his side of the desk was a tall-backed armchair. Sebastian sat in it, bolt upright.
Nikola was wearing a small set of glasses. He peered over the rims.
“You have a lot of books here.”
Nikola looked around with some trepidation. “I know, and it worries me.”
“Why?”
“My great-great-grandfather spent his life transcribing the previous books into the ones you see. But, they’re dying and need to be transcribed again. My family has had the responsibility of maintaining the knowledge records for eight hundred years. Now it’s my turn, and I’m afraid I don’t have enough time.”
“Can’t you get someone to help?”
“Maybe one other, but it might be time to hand the task over to someone new, and young.”
“Don’t look at me.”
“The rewards are great. Think of it, all our collected knowledge passing through one brain.”
“Mine would explode.”
“We shall see.” He moved aside several books and picked up a piece of paper.
Sebastian reassessed the books. It would take decades and decades. And what if they had diagrams? You would need someone who could draw. Uh-oh.
“I have your school report here.” Nikola waved a piece of paper in the air. “Shall we read it?” He read through it silently. “Maybe I’ll read only the relevant bits. You don’t need to know everything that’s here.”
He took a deep breath and began to read. “Lack of attention. Lack of respect. Indifference to … well, that means the same thing. I won’t read out the next ones. Tardy. Shows talent but needs to focus.” He folded the piece of paper and placed it on the desk. “Could do better in class.”
Sebastian slumped in his seat. “Not much changes,” he mumbled.
Nikola shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first or last, so don’t let it bother you. And if it makes you feel any better, my own reports were similar.” He gave the boy a bright smile.
A short, sharp knock bounced against the door. It slowly creaked open. An old man with a densely wrinkled face, frizzy white hair, and a bushy mustache stuck his head into the room. His eyes twinkled with happiness and intelligence.
“This is Albert. He’ll be teaching you … different things.” Nikola beckoned the old man into the room.
Albert took some hesitant steps onto the plush carpet. He had his hands clasped in front of him and looked slightly sheepish.
“Hello, young man. It vill be gut, ja?”
Sebastian gave Nikola a concerned look.
“He’s not from these parts,” Nikola said in explanation. “He’s going to teach you physics. Good stuff, physics. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Ja, ve vill get our hands dirty vit the practical application of theory of electromagnetic radiation.”
The man’s accent was so thick Sebastian had to concentrate on every word he said. It made his head tingle. It was possibly the first time he had had to focus in a scholarly manner for months.
“We think electromagnetic radiation is important in defending ourselves from the trouble in the west,” Nikola said. He turned in his seat and gazed out the large windows toward the dark and distant west. “We need to find something. We’re running out of options.”
“Where should I find you?” Sebastian asked Albert.
“I’m on the second floor of this building. I vill see you tomorrow morning. First thing. Ten o’clock.”
“He’s more of a night person,” Nikola said to Sebastian. “Thank you, Albert. I expect great things from both of you, relatively speaking.”
Albert gave a creaky bow, then turned and left the room. The door closed slowly and Nikola watched until the latch clicked into place.
“He’s not a relative of yours, is he?” Sebastian asked.
“Why do you ask?”
“The hair and eyes are a bit; you know …”
Nikola smiled. “Look, this is an abstract idea. I’m not sure if it’ll work, but I’m expecting your tesla score to be in a realm we can’t fathom yet. New challenges need new answers. Work with Albert and see how you can apply what he knows. Go and discover exciting new theories. I’ll be out of town for a few days. When I get back, show me how you’ve changed the world.” He gave Sebastian a grin.
Parker joined Nikola at the entrance of the mayor’s office. Night had descended, but the heat remained oppressive. They paused before entering, catching a dry westerly breeze.
“You look tired, Commander,” Parker said.
Nikola wiped his hand over his forehead. “It’s been a long day. Emotional.”
“Worst kind. Tomorrow will be tougher.”
Nikola nodded. “Barton is scheming. I’m hearing things from the men.”
“Me, too. Can he actually do anything?”
“Not while Trade is the mayor. Number Two would never allow it. Not now.” He glanced up at the gentle golden glow radiating out of the office window. Shadows flickered against the glass. The Mayor’s office sat a street back from the city center, on the cusp of the residential zones. The outline of Old Benjamin stood out against the dark sky as the clock face dimly illuminated. Next to it, the mysterious, ever-present glow from the Potenza tower spilled upward and through the cracks in the building.
“Let’s do this,” Nikola said, and he led Parker into the formal chambers.
The door hushed open over the thick carpet. The antiquated idea of thick wool covering the floor made little sense in the desert, but Trade was reluctant to be rid of it as he felt it symbolic. To Nikola it fit in with the rest of the office, each item, each furnishing, each fitting, symbolic and utterly impractical. The men rested their swords next to the door.
Oliver sat awkwardly on the far side the mayor’s ancient oak desk as Trade wrote furiously in a ledger. He glanced up and indicated for them to sit.
Both men nodded respectfully to the mayor.
“Ah, gentlemen, sit. I-I-I’ve told you, please, there’s no need for the ceremonial nod.”
“Where would we be without ceremony?” Parker supplied.
“A few more c-c-coins in the c-c-coffers,” Trade said. He closed his ledger and faced the men as they eased themselves into the ornate leather chairs.
“Thank you for c-c-coming. How many men do you require for this reconnaissance mission?”
Parker cleared his throat. “No more than six, sir, will be joining us.”
“Will that be enough?”
“Our chances of survival are greater. We find how many cyborgs, if any, then we can mobilize the appropriate forces. There may be no problem and it is expensive to mobilize a significant number of men.”
“Fine. So just six and you two,” he said, indicating Nikola and Parker.
Nikola turned to Oliver, “Have you selected a tesla to join us?”
“Yes. It was an obvious choice. Gavin,” he yelped. His voice struggled to stay calm in the presence of senior officials.
Nikola glared at him. “Are you sure? He’s sixteen or seventeen? I would have preferred one of the older boys who’ve been with us longer.”
“No. He is the best,” Oliver replied.
“Fine. Parker, place him on the list.”
“And I-I-I would like to c-c-come,” Trade added. “Round it up to an even ten.”
Nikola paused as he stared at the man. “Mayor, why would you think … I cannot recommend that course of action. It will be exceedingly dangerous.”
“You say it will be dangerous, but surely you are hiding, which I-I-I understand to be safe? And you are talking about taking a boy.” He indicated toward Oliver, who sunk deeper into his chair.
Nikola placed his head in his hand. It was the last thing he needed tonight. “Sir, there really is no need. What possible good can come from it?”
&n
bsp; “There is pressure, C-c-commander. Tension in the air. I-I-I know you c-c-can feel it, as c-c-can I-I-I. People, voters, need to see more of me, an action mayor. As you said, the people liked Barton, they saw him as a man who did things. He went on similar outings with your predecessor. There’s an expectation that I-I-I know I-I-I am not fulfilling.”
Nikola flexed his fingers over his forehead. He longed to explain it was hoped Barton would be killed.
Parker interrupted. “Mayor Trade, the men going on this excursion are highly trained, know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and have fought successfully together. We cannot add too many new ingredients into the mix. Nikola is correct. For now, you need to be here. The people need to see you in power. Losing you would be catastrophic.”
Nikola nodded. “Barton is always looking for some angle to get back the mayoral title. We can’t have him in power. Even Number Two finally agrees he caused more harm than good. The people may have liked him, but the city fell to pieces in his stewardship. Although I would be privileged to have your company, this isn’t the time.”
“When are you planning on leaving?”
“Mid-morning tomorrow.”
“Fine. I-I-I shall see you off.”
Nikola stared at the mayor, and completely distrusted him.
“As you wish, sir. Please pardon our departure, as we’ll need to prepare.” The soldiers rose and moved toward the door. They nodded once again. Trade raised his hand.
“Please, C-c-commander, enough with the nodding. No more.”
The men collected their weapons and left. Outside, Nikola pulled Parker aside.
“Colonel, get the men and Gavin,” Nikola whispered.
“For a meeting?”
“No. We’re going now. The mayor seems to be hell bent on coming. It’s best if the mission has already left.”
17
ALBERT COUGHED AND cleared his throat. “Ve shall take the roll call.”
Sebastian glanced over his shoulder at the unoccupied room.
“Sebastian?”
“Er, here.”
“Gut.” Albert placed a large tick on his clipboard. “Let us commence.”
The class was about a third of the size of the tesla schoolroom, which was not a problem, as it had only one teacher and one student. Four large benches sat in the center of the room, with space for two people at each.
“Will anyone else be coming?” Sebastian asked.
Albert examined his clipboard. “No.”
“Ever?”
Albert examined the clipboard again. “No. Are you expecting anyone?”
“I guess not. But it would’ve been nice to have some company.”
“Vare ve are going ve don’t need anyone else.”
“Vare—where are we going?”
“To the high ground of the mind.” Albert pointed to his temple and threw his hand into the air.
No dove appeared, so Sebastian lost interest. “Sounds lonely,” he muttered.
Albert turned and started to draw on the board.
A screwed-up ball of paper hit Albert in the center of his back. “Who threw that?”
“I think … it may have fallen from the roof.”
Albert narrowed his eyes. “Attention, Sebastian.” He drew a circle filled with smaller circles, surrounded by three long ovals evenly rotated. He picked up a long pointing stick and tapped the drawing. “Atoms,” he said. “Vy are they the most important things in the vorld? Anyone?”
Sebastian peered around. He was definitely the only other person there. He shrugged.
“Because everything, everyvare, is made up of atoms. This table.” He brought down his stick on the bench with a resounding crash. “Your shoe.” The stick came crashing onto Sebastian’s foot.
“Ow!”
“Even you are made up of atoms,” Albert whispered.
“Don’t hit me,” shrieked Sebastian. He raised his hands in defense, peering over his fingers when no blow was delivered.
Albert was back at the board, pointing to the drawing again. “Atoms are the smallest things in the vorld. They are the smallest building blocks on vich everything is made.”
He lowered the end of the pointing stick to the floor, resting on it like a walking stick, and placed his other hand in his pocket. He started to pace from one side of the room to the other, his footsteps interspersed with the clicking of the stick on the wooden boards.
“Ven you’re deconstructing anything, you get to a point vare you cannot deconstruct it any further. The book is made up of paper. Paper is made up of compressed cellulose pulp. The pulp is made up from vood. Vood is made up of …” He looked hopefully at Sebastian.
“Trees?” Sebastian guessed. The stick hit him on the arm. “Ow!”
“Not trees. For vat is a tree other than living vood? Vat makes up vood?”
“Atoms?” Sebastian raised his arms in defense. There was no painful attack. Albert was smiling.
“Gut. Everything, from the biggest sun to the smallest grain of sand, is made from atoms. Atoms are at the core of everything.”
Albert returned to his drawing and placed the end of the stick in the center of the circle, indicating the smaller circles. “Atoms are made up of two things. Protons and neutrons.”
“Didn’t you just say atoms are the smallest things? How can protons and neutrons be smaller than the smallest thing?”
“Ah, I’m glad you’re paying attention. The more ve explore the more ve find. The components of the atom are protons, neutrons, und electrons: the three most important things ve vill deal vit. These components spin, remember that word, like tops around their own centers, generating either a positive or negative force. Electrons, protons, und neutrons all have a positive or negative spin, und they rotate around the nucleus vithin the atom. This means the electron possesses momentum as vell as spin, vile the nucleus possesses momentum because of its spin.”2
“What?”
“Maybe ve move too fast.”
“I didn’t understand one sentence in that.”
“Okay, a long time ago ve used to think the atom was nothing more than a tiny indivisible sphere. However, a series of discoveries in the fields of chemistry, electricity and magnetism, radioactivity, and quantum mechanics changed that. Ve found that atoms vur made up of subatomic particles. Electromagnetism discovered the electron. Radioactivity discovered the nucleus, proton, and neutron. And quantum mechanics put it all together. Electrons, protons, and neutrons give the atom an electromagnetic charge. And ven something vit a charge spins, it produces a magnetic field. Do you know vat happens ven a positive magnet is put next to a negative one?”
Sebastian thought back to Oliver’s experiments at school. “They stick together.”
“Ja! They attract. And ven atoms stick together, ve have an element defined by the number of electrons they have orbiting the nucleus. Hydrogen. Helium. Carbon. Carbon can be a diamond, coal, or the lead in your pencil. Nitrogen and oxygen make up the air that ve breathe. The building blocks of life itself.”
“I think I get it,” Sebastian said.
“The magnetic field produced by an atom is called its magnetic moment, just as rotating a charged object produces a magnetic field, allowing us to stick the magnets together, the moment allows atoms to stick together.”
“Are you saying magnetism holds everything together?”
“Everything is bound together by its magnetic moment. So I ask you, Mr. Tesla, vat vould that mean to someone who can control magnetism at the atomic level?”
Sebastian went quiet. The world had changed.
“I’m going out now for a little vile. Perhaps you think about vat you have just learned.” Albert left the room and closed the door behind him.
Sebastian stared blankly at the drawing on the blackboard, his eyes and mind wide open.
“Melanie,” said Dr. Rodgers.
She had let her mind wander during the eternal tests and was brought back to the moment by the doctor’s
wrinkled face suddenly several inches away from her own.
“I understand you’re aware of your condition.”
She sighed and nodded.
“Did your original doctors have much experience with the condition?” The recorded results puzzled him.
She shrugged. “They looked old.”
“Age doesn’t always equate with knowledge. Do you remember their names?”
She closed her eyes and repeated the couple she could remember.
The doctor pursed his lips. “I know one of these men. I can’t see him making such a mistake.”
Melanie’s attention focused on him like a bull’s eye. “Mistake?”
“Don’t get excited or your hopes up. You’re not well. But … you’re not as sick as you’ve been told. I’ve checked your counts twice and had them double-checked. I’m sorry, the news is still bad, but …” He shook his head again. “Look, perhaps it’s best if I run these tests again. There may be, there must be, something I’ve missed.” He tapped the end of his pencil against the notepad.
“Why? What’s different?”
He sighed. “Are you completely sure, absolutely positive, that they said stage four?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not something I’d forget.”
“Sorry, yes. But according to our tests you’re trending between stages two and three. Now, I’ll admit that’s still terrible, but it’s not as disastrous as stage four. I need to call your doctors to find—”
“No!” she shouted. “Please, no one can know I’m here.”
“Has anything happened recently to … this is pointless; no one goes from stage four to stage two. It’s impossible. There must have been an error originally.”
“But I do feel better. Sebastian even said I look better, and boys are the worst at noticing anything, ever.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s still terminal. You will die.”
“We all die, but when?”
“We’ll watch and test continually. But from similar findings I would guess five years, maybe even ten if things go well.”
She fainted.