Tesla Evolution Box Set

by Mark Lingane

  There was jeering—there was always jeering—from the guards at the gate as the vehicle chuffed its way into the city. Sebastian thought they would be used to seeing Isaac and him being driven through the great metal gates, locked up in the holding pen at the back of the SUV dangerously close to the great steam engine, which was puffing away, heat pouring out, making the boys feel even more uncomfortable.

  They had traveled along the route enough times for Sebastian to realize something was different. They veered off the main thoroughfare into the city center and circled around the perimeter of the square, out of the view of the general public. They pulled up to a building Sebastian would never forget.

  “This isn’t Nikola’s office,” he said.

  The security guard shrugged. “New orders,” he rumbled.

  He pushed the boys into the morbid-looking building. There were cells on one side and Sebastian’s heart sank into his boots. On the other was a large, bleak wooden table, with an old, bleak man sitting behind it. If Sebastian’s heart could have sunk any lower, it would have dropped through the floor.

  “Mr. Floater,” the guard said. “Number Two said to bring ’em here. Said you’d know what to do.”

  Mr. Floater indicated the cells opposite him. The guard nodded. He locked Sebastian and Isaac in the cells and left, leaving the three of them alone.

  “Well, freaks, we meet again,” Mr. Floater said. “What have you got to say for yourselves now?”

  “It was an accident,” they replied simultaneously.

  “How convenient. You didn’t mean to sneak out without telling anyone. You didn’t mean to go into an area that’s off limits. You didn’t mean to get tangled up in a cyborg confrontation. You didn’t mean to waste everyone’s time, thereby weakening the city’s defenses, and putting everyone at increased risk.”

  “No,” they said.

  “That’s all right then. You can go.” He indicated the front door. “No harm done.”

  “Really?” Sebastian said.

  There was a long pause while Mr. Floater appeared to contemplate the question. Eventually he smiled and said, “No.”

  “But you’re not allowed to keep us here, we’re children,” Isaac protested.

  “I’ve seen you around, acting like you’re kings of the coop. The way you talk. The way you walk. No respect. No thought in the world except for yourselves. You’re right. You are children. The law says I can’t keep you in the cells, but it doesn’t say I have to let you go straightaway.”

  “Where’s Nikola? I’ll tell him,” Sebastian said.

  “Eh? The city’s commander, our inspirational war hero, is indisposed.” His voice was laced with bitterness and sarcasm. “But he won’t be around much longer so you’d better get used to life without him. How will you survive then, freaks, without your precious get-out-of-jail pass?”

  Isaac started to cry.

  “You’re a pair of stupid, self-centered boys who cause nothing but trouble. You’re irresponsible to the point of being dangerous, to yourselves and to the city.” He turned to Isaac. “I don’t know what your parents are going to make of your recent behavior. If I were them I’d be disgraced.”

  He looked at Sebastian. “You, well, no one cares about you, and that’s a good thing.”

  He surveyed the damage from his words and let the boys dwell on them for an hour. Then he got up, jangled his keys and unlocked the cell doors.

  “If I ever, and I mean ever, see you back here again I will treat you like traitors to the city. Friends or otherwise, you’ll receive the worst possible punishment the city can inflict.”

  Sebastian and Isaac stumbled from the building with Mr. Floater’s words chiseled into their minds. The door slammed shut behind them with a resounding clang.

  Sebastian turned to Isaac. “I think we got away with that. Floater always lets you out after his rants and you’ve given him the sad face for a while. Let’s get some food.” He put his arm around Isaac’s shoulder.

  To his astonishment Isaac pushed him away. “Get away from me. You’re always getting me into trouble. You don’t seem to care about anyone other than yourself. In the end, it’s everyone else who suffers.” He turned around and stormed off down the street.

  Sebastian watched him walk away. If they were going to go out tomorrow, he was going to have to do some serious apologizing.

  Sebastian had returned to his temporary quarters. The tesla school, where he had been living, was being rebuilt, but it had been given a low priority and progress had been slow. Fortunately he had known the right people—namely, Nikola—who had arranged for him to have a large room close to Melanie.

  In a turbulent world, Nikola saw Sebastian and Melanie as two people who wouldn’t change, both strong-willed and determined. But of course they had changed. Everything had.

  On the way back Sebastian had retrieved the steambikes from the compound, where they all knew him by his first name and the extent of his contacts. He had offered one to Isaac as an apology. He had even said sorry. He didn’t know what else he could do. His body was aching again.

  He sat down on his bed and rubbed his hands over his muscles. The curtain across his window, partially open, fluttered gently in the soft breeze. The evening sunlight fell inside, warming the bed sheets. The room was utilitarian at best, and devoid of most comforts. Handfuls of colored pens had been sorted into piles on his desk. Even though he was going against the natural order of the universe, his bedroom was tidy, with clothes hung up neatly in the old wooden wardrobe and his few possessions stacked on the shelves. His mother had always told him to tidy up his room, so in a way doing so now kept her in his mind. That way she wasn’t totally gone and he could still hope.

  Prized amongst his few possessions was the letter his mother had sent him, and the lacy handkerchief from Bindi that reminded him of Merv and the family.

  The previous year had been devastating. With so much lost he felt that it was almost worth throwing everything out so a new future could be forged without the horrible memories of the past. And over the last year he had grown rapidly. As with all teslas, his complexion was pale but his body was going to be big. His shoulders were broadening and his frame was filling out with muscles that seemed to develop with hardly any effort. Already he was as tall as the eldest boys.

  But where the other teslas were mostly gaunt and frail, he was lean. In the battle for his body, the muscles were winning. His physical attributes separated him from everyone else— yet another aspect that made him different. Even after the battles and everything he had achieved, he was still an outsider.

  The city had great skepticism over the teslas, as they had failed so badly in their first outing against the cyborgs. No one threw things at them in the street or crossed over to the other side if they saw them approaching, but neither was anyone friendly, often ignoring them as they wandered past. Now there were stories of cyborgs marching through the countryside, exterminating every tesla that stood in their way. Disappointingly, no one else, apart from the other teslas, was concerned.

  He sighed and sat back against the wall. He slid out his sketchpad from under his bed. It was full of little doodles, but on page one, taking up the entire sheet of paper, was the face he had drawn of his mother. He stroked his hand over the image, reaching out for her in the only way he could. He could feel the emptiness inside of him, like a great cavity in the center of his chest, burning with pain.

  He lived in a broken city that was no better than a jail to him, banned from leaving and despised by the locals. And he had sat there as the months had crawled past, in an unending blackness, holding a small voice inside that cried, Love me.

  5

  “CAPTAIN, YOUR PRESENCE is always astonishing,” Dr. Rodgers said. “You’ll be one for the medical record books.” He closed the book in his hand and placed it back on the shelf in between the identical neighboring volumes. He placed his hands in his pockets and turned.

  “Thank you, doctor,” Melanie replied.


  She closed the door behind her and let her armor and weapons clatter to the ground. She glanced around his office, which was still as utilitarian as ever. Open books lay scattered on every flat surface, available or otherwise. A pen on his desk lay on top of a piece of paper, a sentence interrupted.

  “You didn’t have to come straight here. There’s always time to wash and change.”

  “Exciting news beckons and entices, doctor. How are my results?” She sat down on the chair next to his desk. It was an old, high-backed leather chair, aged and overused to the point of brittleness.

  He smiled and sat down in his own, more understated chair. He clasped his hands together on the desk and leaned forward. “You won’t believe this. I don’t believe this. Since your last results you’re no longer stage two verging on stage three. You’re now … I don’t know how to say this—”

  Melanie burst out, “It can’t be worse. I feel so much better now.”

  “That’s it. You are better. Your readings are normal. You’re in complete remission.”

  “And that’s good? Remission?”

  “Yes. You—and don’t ask me how because I don’t know—are completely healthy. You can throw away those old diagnoses of only six months to live. You’ve come far over the last two years. You’ve worked hard and that means your life can change. You’ve earned it.”

  “Change? But I like it the way it is. People like routine, don’t they?”

  “Normally, yes, but with you it’s probably best to change. You’re well. But what made you well can now make you sick.”

  “Are you saying Sebastian can kill me?”

  “You’re a normal person. If you stay around him like other normal people, then you’ll become sick like they do.”

  “But I can’t stay away from him. We’re a unit. A team. A symbiotic relationship, where I’m the brains and brawn, and he’s the clown, for comic relief.”

  “But you’re a maturing woman, and he’s … a teenage boy. You’re okay for now. We’ll check again in a year.”

  “Can I still see Sebastian?” Melanie pressed. “I like our time together.”

  The doctor gave a solemn shake of his head. “It may be best to limit your interaction, definitely not daily. I would prefer not at all, but if you insist then at the very most once a week.”

  “Once a week? But that’s hardly anything.”

  “You’re in a delicate position. I would even suggest stopping exercising for a while. Take some time to enjoy this respite in your illness. Relax. Sleep in late. Eat. Live. Love. Do you have a gentleman friend you can spend some time with?”

  She attempted to hide her embarrassed smile behind her hand.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Enjoy your time together. You have a life to live. It’s time to live it.”

  She sat there with the emotion drifting out of her smile, her mind full of conflicting feelings. The furniture floated away and she was left alone with nothing but her thoughts.

  “I’m here,” Sebastian said.

  He had tapped out his usual secret pattern. As usual she had opened the door, folded her arms and stood there giving him her glare, part eternal anger, part abuse, part friendship, but …

  There appeared to be something strange, changed, about her. Then he realized what it was.

  Her clothes were different. It was almost enough to make him gasp. She had her hair tied up and wore a long velvet dark green dress, with matching corset intricately laced up the front through golden eyelets. Black lace was in abundance on the sleeves, and she was wearing a pair of fashionable knee-high city boots, not her usual battle boots. His eyes nearly popped out as the corset made a valiant attempt to squeeze her out of the top.

  “Yeah.” She seemed hesitant in her response.

  “Er, you ready?”

  She ahhed and glanced back over her shoulder into the room. “Look, I’m in the middle of a good book. I’d like to see how it ends.”

  “A book?” He shook his head, unsure of what he had just heard. “Can you read?”

  She pursed her lips and went to lunge after him, but stopped herself, mainly because the lacing restricted her movement.

  “Drop by another time,” she said. “I have some news, I think. I’m not sure about it.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  She ahhed again. “I’ll let you know. But I think I’m busy tomorrow, at the doctor’s and stuff.” And then, for the first time ever, she said, “Sorry.”

  He narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “You said ‘sorry. You’re wearing a dress. And reading. What have you done with the real Melanie?”

  Her face contorted with discomfort and she swept some errant strands of hair away from her face. “I just can’t at the moment.” She reached out for him, looked at her own hand, hesitated, and then withdrew it. She looked at him with despondent resignation plastered all over her face.

  “I was told I have a life to live. But I’ve learned that if we want to survive until the next day then we have a job to do.” She hesitated with her eyes dancing around, looking for the right words. “Beyond ourselves there are others, and a balance of what’s important that we must find.”

  “Eh?”

  “I learned something today that I’ve been debating whether or not to tell you. With you standing here, making the place look untidy, I think it’s best you should know, so I come with a warning.”

  “Are you going to sing?” He waited until she stopped swearing at him. “What, then?”

  “I interrogated a cy,” she said, using the shorthand they had all adopted for the cyborgs. “He had some things to say before he finally died. In his last scream he said there’s something new out there looking for teslas. Something big and bad. They go by the name of sullivans.”

  “Doesn’t sound scary.”

  “They’re over fifteen feet tall, with arms to their knees, muscles upon muscles, and they’re covered in some special armor that makes them impervious to EM attack. They don’t sleep and they’re coming for all the teslas, especially you.”

  “It was a talkative last scream.”

  “I can make interrogations go on for an extended duration. It’s a talent. Look, you’re my Sebastian. I’ve even made a foolish promise to look after you, but sooner or later everything must come to an end. Everything changes. Even us and what we are.”

  She slumped back against the doorframe before slipping inside and closing the door. She leaned against the door. She needed to think. She turned around, feeling hollow and alone, and looked at her shelves. They didn’t contain much. A couple of delicately folded letters from a soppy and emotional Gavin. A teddy bear with a missing eye she had found and secreted. Some faded photographs that refused to stick to the wall. A small book with the CM embroidered on the cover.

  And the books. The librarian had recommended them as ancient classical literature. To date, she had only looked over the covers.

  She ran her hands along the spines and picked one at random. It had a dark cover depicting an underfed teenage couple holding onto each other. There was a dark forest in the background with an eerie glow emanating from within and—she squinted—something odd about the boy’s eyes. He looked a bit like Gavin. Pale, tall, gaunt, and good-looking.

  She shrugged and jumped onto her bed, opening the book to the first page. She smiled, licked her finger and turned the page.

  Sebastian looked around the empty corridor, wondering what to do. The sun was about to set, and for the first time in over a year he wouldn’t be watching with Melanie as it descended below the horizon.

  Everything felt odd. Melanie was out. Isaac need some me time. Nikola was “indisposed,” according to Floater. Albert would be deep in some deranged experiment dangerous to anyone foolishly standing nearby.

  He sighed.

  He leaned against the wall and looked out to the stairway leading to the roof terrace. He shrugged. There was no reason he couldn’t go up there on his own. He could talk endlessly abou
t Gavin and swear all the time, and it would be exactly like she was there. But it wouldn’t be the same.

  He turned and went back to his own quarters. He heard Melanie gasp and laugh as he left, and his heart sank.

  6

  THE DAY STARTED. Because it wasn’t a school day Sebastian woke at the crack of dawn. He made it a top priority to catch up with Isaac and get his perspective on the previous night’s dialog with Melanie. Then he told Isaac about the secret of the existence of the sullivans, and the threat of shared peril lifted his spirits.

  The boys rolled through the front gates of the city on their steambikes. The new structures gleamed fiercely in the sunlight, wiping away the memory of the past, when they had lain broken and ruined while the invading army had stormed through.

  Isaac stopped to enter their details in the sign-out book. Sebastian thought about roaring off into the distance, but hesitated and pulled over to wait for him. He felt better about himself for doing so.

  He looked around the protective walls of the city. Strong young men were patrolling the outside, keeping a watchful eye out for potential danger. The great dams towered above the city perimeter, ready to discharge millions of gallons of water onto any advancing cyborg army and shorting out all their complex electric and electronic equipment. The dams had proven to be the most effective defense against large invasions. Vendors had placed small stalls beneath the suspended dams, shaded by their giant forms. Food sellers, artisans who had lost their shop fronts in the war, entertainers, and odd collections of women who shouted at the men who went past, had all found a way of making something out of the desolation of the past year.

  There was a constant sea of people outside the gates: those wanting to buy or sell inside the city, or others who sought shelter and security within a world that was rapidly falling apart. Cyborgs, swarms of them, had flooded throughout the countryside, destroying villages, even cities now. Any settlement without some kind of defenses was a target, and each fell easily. And so the survivors came here, to the only city left where there was any kind of protection.