by Jen Greyson
The skin at his collar pinks. “I suppose.”
Earning him even more international contacts. I narrow my eyes. There’s still more he’s not telling me.
“How does this fit in with all the lightning riding? It seems like chasing Tesla’s work matters a lot to you.”
“More than I can ever explain. In college, I actually expanded on a few of his ideas. The night before I was set to publish and present, there was a—” He looks away and swallows twice. “A fire destroyed my lab, and all my work. The similarities to the fire that consumed Nikola’s lab did not go unnoticed.”
I balk. “You think they were related?”
“I cannot be certain, but the timing—and those involved—set me back years. Most of my work was never recovered. Later, someone else published the results.”
I straighten. “Then you know who was responsible.”
He’s silent for several moments, and the muscle in his jaw clenches. “It doesn’t matter. This does.”
I don’t get him. I never have. I might never. He’s kidnapped Penya for who knows what reason, is working to recreate the most valuable invention in the history of science, and finding a person who destroyed his life’s work doesn’t matter. Sometimes—when I see these moments of sanity—I find myself wanting to be on the same team. Too bad I know he’s keeping things from me. He did this to me once before.
I’ve got to stop letting him tell me stories.
“I guess I don’t understand how this correlates with riding—with your involvement.”
“They’ve always been related—”
A knock at the door interrupts him.
“Evy? Are you alright?” George asks.
I wave Ilif farther into the room. “Yeah. Just taking a sec to freshen up.”
“Okay. Tesla is on his way up.”
“Be right out.”
Ilif wrings his hands, and I can tell he wants to stay.
“Go,” I spit. “I can’t have you hanging out here. You almost ruined everything last time.”
“I could stay in—”
“Get.”
He straightens and nods. “You’re right. Please don’t forget what I’ve said tonight. Stay on task.”
I look away so I don’t roll my eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” He vanishes.
I finish in the bathroom and pause with my hand on the knob before I go meet Nikola. No matter what happens from here on out, no matter how many flashes of sanity I see, Ilif can never get those patents.
CHAPTER 17
IN THE OTHER room, Nikola and George are at the door, waiting.
“Good to see you,” Nikola says.
“Glad to be here.” I smile and resist the urge to hug him. He nods and we follow George out. The New York air is crisp, and I pause beyond the hotel doors. Gray clouds hang low, obscuring the building tops. A black car pulls up, dragging my attention off the sky. Nikola holds the passenger door open and I climb in the front.
George hands a slip of paper to the driver and gets in the back with Nikola. I turn around. “Where are we going?”
George points at the driver and puts a finger to his lips and shakes his head. I shift and stare at the driver, who keeps his attention straight ahead. But he has to know where we’re going…
Without taking his eyes off the road, he slips the paper in his front pocket.
I shrug and watch vintage New York slip by outside my window. I rarely get the chance to really look at where I’ve landed during this whole alteration… It’s nice to have a moment to take it all in. Rain patters against the street, sending pedestrians scurrying inside glass-walled delis and stone archways. Everyone is so well dressed compared to home. Here, there’s a pride in getting dressed. A woman walks by in a pencil skirt and strappy heels, hair swept up in a tight bun beneath her umbrella, lips precisely lined and colored. She passes a man in a long wool jacket. He smiles and tips his hat, genuinely pleased to see her. Such a different time.
As we pass street after street, my lids grow heavy. Behind me, George and Nikola whisper. Water splashes up on the fenders and running boards of the car, adding to the soothing lullaby.
Ahead, a large brown building looms astride the street, and the driver maneuvers the car between three others parked in front. George hops out as a doorman rushes forward with an umbrella. In silence we move into the building. I peek around the umbrella and make out the name of the building through the drops.
Westinghouse.
I scowl and try to put pieces together. Pretty sure I remember Westinghouse being a huge supporter of Nikola’s, but that doesn’t explain why he’d bring me. Even knowing I was coming today, why not change this meeting, or do it before coming to meet me? I shake off my sleepiness. There’s something here he wants me to see. I slow my pace and catalog everything.
The front of the building is typical administrative offices, and three secretaries cluster toward the back corner, ignorant to our arrival. The driver and doorman peel off, leaving George, Tesla, and me to find our own way. George walks half a pace ahead of Tesla, and I bring up the rear, tucked behind them like they’re purposely shielding me from view. We wind our way through a huge warehouse, past rows of turbines and tables. At a door in the recesses of the building, we pause. George stays at the door, arm and hand extended back, palm splayed. Getting the message, I tuck in further behind him. Since he’s a few inches taller than me, I’m completely hidden, but on high alert.
“Westinghouse,” Tesla says.
“Nikola, we have a problem.”
I peek through a small space between George’s arm and body. The two men square off, and a large man I assume to be Westinghouse stands behind a metal desk covered with papers, tools, and random configurations of small machines. Westinghouse is fidgeting with a wrench and pacing. “I’m losing my investors, Nikola. Morgan is spreading rumors. I’m going to lose my investors because of the royalties in your contract.”
“Then destroy it.”
“What?” Westinghouse halts and his face reddens.
“Destroy the contract. But commit the workers needed to finish. The importance of this cannot be hindered by something as insignificant as money.”
“Nikola, I—”
“Send me a new contract if you like, or we can shake on it.” Nikola extends his hand across the desk. I flinch, hoping Westinghouse understands both the gesture of the contract and Nikola’s willingness to press flesh.
Westinghouse looks at Nikola’s hand for a few moments and nods. “I’ll revise the contract.”
Nikola pulls his hand back. “Do let me know when the workers are ready.”
Westinghouse smiles.
George takes a step back, pushing me farther into the hallway. Tesla steps out and George closes the door, hiding me from Westinghouse’s view, and we retreat to the front of the building. Again, we move in silence and climb in the car, and I assume we’re headed back to the hotel. I jam my fingers beneath my thighs and clamp my jaw to keep from bursting out with the thousand questions I’m dying to ask. A heavy cloud of silence hangs over the car. None of this makes sense. The driver knew exactly where we were going, but can’t talk about it. Nikola and George know what’s going on.
Then there’s me.
In the dark again.
I’m still not sure I figured out what he wanted me to see. Surely more than just a witness to the insane deal, he had George for that. But the alteration needed me here for that meeting, too, otherwise I wouldn’t have made it back in time. A pinprick of pain starts behind my right eye. Killing someone was a thousand times easier than figuring this out. Last time Constantine and Penya handled all the details… I was just the weapon. This time there are layers upon layers.
At the hotel, I barrel out, before anyone can open my door, and stand beneath the overhang, waiting, studying. George climbs from the other side, crosses the street between two speeding trucks, and motions me over. Splashing through the wide puddles, I jog across the
street where we trade one black car for another. “What—”
George silences me with a strong hand on my upper arm. People wade past us on the sidewalk, and this new driver cants his head toward us, ears perked. I nod and climb in the back next to Tesla. He pats my knee. George circles around the front and climbs in. The driver speeds away from the hotel and I’m lost in more confusion.
I’m not collecting memories during this arc either, and I don’t know what to think of that. Or, are they there but not barraging me at every turn? Was there a memory of Westinghouse’s I was supposed to steal? This is irritating. I clench my hands tight in my lap.
All this silence and subterfuge is grating on my nerves. One of them had better spill details. First, I want to know what all that was about with Westinghouse. Things can’t have changed so much that Nikola doesn’t need financial support for his science. And giving away all of the royalties… that just doesn’t make sense. George glances back and I raise my eyebrows. He gives a slight shake of his head and turns forward again.
We leave the city and I lean my forehead against the glass. Beyond the pane, the entire world is gray-washed and muffled. Though I fight it, my eyes grow heavy again. I pinch the tips of my fingers and shake my head, but the moment I stop moving, the heaviness returns. Nikola is preoccupied, writing and diagramming in a leather notebook. George is discussing physics with the driver. Since I have no idea how far we’re going, I let my eyes drift shut.
Dreams of storms and secrets dissipate as the car slows, and I blink myself back to reality.
We’re at Nikola’s lab. While I slept, the blue sky pushed the clouds away and the sun is shining. Puddles line the road, but the high middle is dry.
Nikola puts his writing away and is leaning forward with a childish expectation. “Here is fine.”
George nods, and the driver stops outside the entrance gates.
I shake off the sleepiness and meet George and Nikola in the road. As the car pulls away, I blurt, “What the hell is going on?”
Nikola turns and George unlocks the gates.
“Why did you do that, Nikola”—I point back the way we came—“that deal with Westinghouse?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he says over his shoulder as he strides quickly toward the lab.
“Doesn’t matter?” I jog to catch up. “Nikola, those were worth a ton of money.”
“I have something to show you both.”
“What’s with all the secrecy?”
“Patience.” He sweeps us through the front door and to the left side of the building. Ignoring both George and me, Nikola flips switches and adjusts coils and machines.
A sharp crack from the opposite end of the building makes me duck, and George takes a huge step back.
“Hold on,” Nikola shouts.
I hunch my shoulders and move closer to the outer wall, unsure what’s in store.
Another crack and the entire interior begins to glow. The random devices scattered around the room chirp and stutter, slowly coming to life like they’ve all been plugged in and turned on at the same time.
George moves closer to Nikola. “You did it?” His voice is quiet and filled with wonder.
“I did.” Nikola beams.
I straighten. “No way… ”
George spins, hands clasped together at his chest. “Free… wireless… energy… ”
I look around the room, noting the hodgepodge of items he’s put together. “None of these are plugged in?”
“Only to an adapter that extracts the energy from the atmosphere.”
One by one, the devices shudder and stop. Nikola spins a dial and flips three switches.
“How long will it last?”
“Right now, only briefly and at very short distances. With the rest of Westinghouse’s workers, and additional funding, it will be fully operational within the year. Longer distances, bigger charges… all of it, George.”
Stepping toward a small table, I run my fingers down the cord of a toaster. It’s inserted into a bundle of wires and metal plates.
Powered from something other than a wall outlet. Too bad the world will never have access to this during his life.
I snort. Free electricity. Total… game… changer.
George and Nikola are deep in conversation about money and men. I cross my arms and watch them. This should be the alteration. Nothing is more important than free power. The impact is huge. Hundreds of thousands… millions even could be affected. My heart cramps and I long for a chance to pick my own alteration.
“George, if Nikola were gone, would you know how to work this?”
He laughs. “No, heavens no.”
I address Nikola. “How many could?”
“Maybe Edison, with training, but most likely not even then.”
“What would happen if someone got a hold of this kind of technology who didn’t understand it, or who didn’t know how it worked?”
“That’s not possible. I’m the only one with the capability of inventing this. It’s taken me years.”
I hold up my hands. “No, I’m not saying that someone else could invent it, what I’m asking is what would happen if something happened to you and someone else tried to do what you just did?”
“Without proper understanding or training?”
“Yes.”
He pauses and runs a finger along one of the wires. “Do you understand why this works?”
I shake my head.
“Simply, it works in concert with the earth. Because the earth is constantly contracting and expanding, releasing the initial pulse at the wrong time could be disastrous.”
“How bad?” I ask, resisting the urge to flinch.
“Released at the wrong time, it would crack the earth.”
My eyebrows rise and my mouth drops open. “Seriously?”
His face stiffens. “I don’t jest about these things.”
Lead settles along my spine. We’re just not ready for this. Badly as we need it, badly as I want it, both for kids in the Congo, and for Nikola… we’re just not ready. So I set my own desire aside, and trust the alteration with the hope that one day soon I’ll get to meet him here again for a different reason. “No. No you don’t.”
George shuffles his feet and the tension releases.
“What happens now?” I ask.
“We finish it,” Nikola says. “Now do you understand why I was willing to use my patents as leverage against Westinghouse’s workers? It would have taken me a decade to raise enough money to complete this if I used the funds from the patents and royalties. This way, he thinks he’s manipulated me and only has to supply me with workers.” He scans the room. “Now my life’s work will be realized.”
Or not.
I keep my face blank even though the tightness in my chest nearly doubles me over. I want to at least tell him so he’s prepared when this never comes to fruition. I ache for him, that his greatest ambition is never realized because billionaire J.P. Morgan pulls his funding and Astor dies on the Titanic before this is finished, and then the fall and coma. For now, all I can do is treasure the hope that something will set up that future alteration.
“Why did you want me to hear the meeting with Westinghouse?”
Nikola pauses and takes a step closer. “How far have you come?”
I search his face. He knows I’m a time traveler. Does it matter how far my birthday is in the future? “A century.”
He nods, pondering my answer. “Yet this is a mystery to you.”
Damn. “Yes.”
His shoulders fall. “Why?”
I glance at George. He’s leaning forward, just as eager for my answer.
I shift my attention back to Nikola and shake my head. Even with him asking me, I can’t do that to him. “I can’t.”
He sags and presses his lips together. “You’re probably right. Best I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry.” I stretch my hand across the space between us.
“It’s fine. Your re
luctance to tell leaves me with one solution. I’ll double our efforts and ensure this succeeds.” He puffs up and brightens. “George, this means we must set up the Colorado Springs lab.”
His instant sense of purpose and pride is infectious. George beams and steps toward the door. “I’ll get started on assembling the crews and paperwork.”
I lift my fingers in a half wave.
After George slips into the front office, I turn to Nikola. Even though I don’t understand what called me here to witness the meeting or the wireless energy, there’s a sense of completeness about this trip. My lightning is tugging at me to leave and come back later. “I should probably go.”
He’s already started turning dials and scratching calculations in his notebook. “Will you return?” He sets his pen down and lifts his head. “Or is this the end of our time together?”
“Why would you say that?”
“The alteration is complete, is it not? By assisting me in understanding the importance of the Colorado Springs lab in relation to these results, you’ve successfully altered the future.”
We’ve never talked about the why of my time traveling. He can’t possibly know that I’m here to alter the history surrounding him. “How do you always know what I’m up to?”
He playfully taps his temple. “Genius.”
I laugh and my shoulders relax. There’s a lilt to his voice tonight, and a silliness about him. Clearly, hitting this milestone is a huge relief. Anything he thinks about my riding is speculation—brilliant speculation—but nothing more.
And, since I don’t have the patents, the answer to his earlier question is simple. “I’ll be back. But I’m not sure when.”
He straightens. “I will not fail.”
I force a smile. “I know.”
George calls to him from the office and we stare at each other. He gives me a curt nod and leaves me standing in the middle of a room full of genius.
With a burst of lightning, I leave it all behind.
CHAPTER 18
AS MY FLASH of lightning recedes into the darkness of the arc, my boring townhouse comes into view. I snag a banana off the counter and curl up on the couch. I can’t help thinking I’m missing the bigger picture for this arc. At first, helping Nikola raise money made sense, and he seems to like me, but now, I feel like I’m missing something.