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The hallway to Gloves’ office is in the opposite direction from Claymore’s. Walking there is still a huge task to undertake for me. Granted, it has only been three hours since I woke up. Still, I feel like I should be more resilient than this somehow. I shake my head, mentally promising to allow myself a little leeway.
Wardenclyffe Tower’s hallways all run off from a central common room like spokes on a bicycle wheel. Hobbling down the hall is more of a chore than I imagined.
As I limp to Gloves’ office, the voices from the common room are replaced with the sounds of hissing steam and whistling of trains. Stumbling toward Gloves’ door, my leg starts to ache. My hand is already closed around the brooch in my pocket. I rap on the door with the end of my cane. I figure it is appropriate for a man with a cane to use it in every aspect of life. Plus, it makes me smile.
“Enter,” Gloves calls to me.
I turn the handle and push open the door. Immediately, I’m hit with a thick wall of smoky steam. Gloves is in the back corner, diligently feeding one of the many small furnaces.
My cane taps on the wooden floor of his office as I stagger toward the back wall.
“What can I do for you?” Gloves asks without even looking up.
“I have something for you.” I hold the beetle in my hand, staring at it under the glow of the furnace fire. The light glints off the two emerald eyes set above one-inch, golden pincers. The back is covered with diamonds. Funny that the things that make it valuable are the only things Gloves won’t find interesting about it. He turns in his wheelchair and chugs toward me. I hold the scarab steady in the palm of my hand. The presentation is perfect. The liquid in the tail end of the beetle seems to light up like a firefly.
“What might this be?”
“It’s a scarab brooch. I picked it from the Amber Room. I think it’s some kind of rifting serum. It can be yours for a very small favor.” I sound like a game show host, I know.
“Yes. I believe I know what it is, thank you.” He holds out his hand. I quickly stuff the beetle back in my pocket and lean on my cane, looking at Gloves. His face is covered in soot and sweat, and his clothes are filthy, except for his gloves. He looks like he’s been sleeping in a pile of coal—come to think of it, maybe he has. I can see the indecision playing across his smudged face. Finally, he squints, making his thick eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead.
“What’s the favor?”
“All I need you to do is have Claymore commission two operations for us, and then supply us with the Contra we’ll need. I think he’ll let it fly if it comes from you.” I find a pile of coal and sit down. My new leg is aching and my back is tight from compensating for the limp.
“What’s the mission?” he asks, still hesitant.
“We need to break into the Tesla Institute and steal some tech from them. That is the first one. After, we are going to go back to where we lost Stein. I want to save her and use the tech to prevent a paradox.”
“Ah. The Dox. I remember it. Untested, as I recall. Very dangerous. Hmm… let me see the brooch again,” Gloves says, holding out his white hand. I stand so he knows he won’t be able to just take the beetle from me. Slowly, I reach into my pocket. I hesitate, watching the reflection of the furnace fires in Gloves’ eyes before I hand it to him.
Using the back of his pristine white gloves, he polishes my oily fingerprints off the beetle. He holds it up to the light and inspects the liquid. As he stares at the brooch, a large smile spreads across his face.
“And you’re sure you can get the Dox to work?” he asks, not looking at me, as if he’s no longer all that interested in me or my deal anymore.
“I’m sure, sir,” I lie. But I’m confident that, between Nobel and me, we’ll be able to figure it out.
“Then you have a deal. I’ll make your Contra and talk to Claymore later tonight.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you, Lex.”
Gloves turns the brooch over and over, letting whatever the strange liquid in the beetle is lap back and forth. With this mission a go, I feel a slight sense of relief. Finally, I can let go of all the sadness and helplessness I’ve been feeling and just focus on getting her back. Before he can change his mind, I follow the red locomotive toward the exit.
“Wait…” he yells after me. I turn, half expecting him to throw something at me. “Rifting back into the time stream, to a place where you already are, could create a huge paradox. So if you can’t get your hands on that tech, the deal is off.”
He tucks the beetle into the inside pocket of his soot-covered jacket and turns back again to his trains. I back slowly out of the room, feeling like I’ve just gotten off very easy.