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The Tesla Experiment (Order of the Black Sun Book 10)

Page 10

by P. W. Child


  They drove to Jenner Manor in the terrible chaos of traffic under the escalating storm while Sam filled Nina in on what had happened during the experiment and why they need a historian to guide Purdue onto the necessary points in history so that they could eventually pin-point him to bring him back to 2015.

  “I don’t know what to say, Sam. Look, I have a very open mind. You know that. But time travel? Really?” she scowled, believing that Sam believed every word he told her. “I have seen a lot of weird shit that defied explanation before…”

  “So why is this so hard to believe, Nina?” Sam asked.

  “It’s Science Fiction!” she defended.

  “And yet here we were, watching Purdue vanish into a flash of fire without a grain of ash to show for his presence!” he retorted. “If he just combusted, or God forbid burned to death, we would have found his remains in the chamber, would we not?”

  “It is just…” she hesitated, “…it’s just so unreal. It is unlikely. Look, I am not an authority on quantum physics…”

  “But Prof. Jenner is, Madam,” Healy chipped in from the driver’s seat. “I promise you, Dr. Gould, this far-fetched mania is every bit as real as you or I sitting in this car right now. It is only Science Fiction while it remains to be proven. And that is precisely what we have just achieved with the help of Mr. Purdue.”

  Nina had nothing to throw at the well groomed butler. She had to concede to having seen stranger things than simple quantum dynamics at play. As long as she did not have to run for her life this time, Nina Gould was willing to accept anything Sam and his new consorts dealt her.

  When they arrived at the manor an hour and a half later, she saw why Sam was so convinced that the environment could actually facilitate tine travel. Her eyes marveled at the strange sheeting on the fences and the lonely mansion being laid out for protection instead of esthetics.

  “Listen, is the lady of the house still going to be awake?” Nina asked as they pulled into the yard. “The windows are dark and there is no indication of life. Won’t we wake her?”

  “The windows always look like this, Dr. Gould,” Healy explained. “It looks like this as a result of the windows being boarded up. Besides, Professor Jenner is somewhat…” he hesitated and smiled at Nina, “…eccentric. Not fond of sleep. She says she’ll get plenty of that when she is dead.”

  “I like her already,” Nina smiled, staring out the slowing car’s window at the wild garden, lit with bright lights situated around the shutters of the manor. It crossed her mind that it was curious how a woman of such financial means would not bother to beautify what is clearly a stately property with so much potential to be resurrected to its former glory. To Nina Lydia Jenner sounded like someone who took pride only in her work and left the rest to the devil.

  When they entered the enormous house, properly wet from the downpour Nina instantly detected the smell of burnt wiring and cannabis, but she did not make mention of it.

  “Welcome to the Jenner Manor, madam,” Healy smiled as he brought Nina a thick towel to dry her hair. He had one each for Sam and himself as well. “I shall start a fire in the drawing room.”

  “Shouldn’t you let the professor know we are here?” Nina asked.

  Sam chuckled alongside Healy who answered, “I assure you, Dr. Gould, she can hear us.”

  After Sam took over the hearthing duties from the butler, Healy took to task getting Dr. Gould settled in first. “Dr. Gould, please, let me show you to your room,” he invited, taking her bags from her and leading the way up the stairs to the right on the first floor. It was probably the only part of the house that resembled a house and not some underground gathering place for mad artists and obscene electricians.

  “I hope this is adequate. I did not expect another visitor, so today was a bit of a rush to get some fresh linen. But I gave the room a good grooming,” he explained politely.

  “And even got fresh roses!” Nina pointed, pleasantly surprised. “I feel special, Healy. There are no other fresh bouquets that I could see in the house.”

  “That is quite correct, doctor,” he agreed. “Normally I would not go to such reaches, but the scent of the flowers and their beauty was a prerequisite for your room. Any lady guest should have roses. For some reason, you complete the bouquet.”

  ‘Was he just flirting with me?’ she wondered, but felt by no means uncomfortable for it. Healy was not a bad looking bloke at all.

  “Well, well,” Lydia cried from her wheelchair in the doorway, “it looks like this house has suddenly come alive!”

  “Professor Jenner, this is Mr. Cleave’s friend, Dr. Nina Gould,” Healy announced as he hung Nina’s coat on the stand next to her bed.

  “I’m sorry to impose like this, but I heard that our mutual friend was in a bind?” Nina told Lydia.

  “I’m afraid so. So many years I have devised this plan, created the schematics, built the contraptions all to prove that Nikola Tesla had some very good theories. And with one half-assed attempt at collecting scientific information the goddamn thing decides to work!” Lydia rambled in her hoarse low voice that completely contrasted her attractive, dainty face.

  “So you did not mean to send Purdue back in time, then?” Nina marveled.

  “I don’t know what I expected, Nina. But whatever I tried to prove, inadvertently proved itself. I had never been this collectively disappointed and elated with an experiment’s outcome,” Lydia sighed. “I mean, the bloody thing worked! Who would have guessed the ludicrous was a matter of mathematics?”

  “Not me, for sure,” Nina remarked. “I always thought the absurd was the burden of the bard, not the wizard.”

  Lydia stopped he wheelchair and stared at Nina. Mute, she just looked the historian straight in the eye. Nina felt awkward for her uttering, thinking she may have offended the professor. Lydia suddenly became animate again, lolling her head to one side and extending her fingers like a cat, stretching, “You are a remarkable little thing, Dr. Gould. Such eloquence! I always wished I could wield poetry and philosophy like that, but alas I am not so inclined. I envy you. All I know is locked in numbers and equations with not a hope of ever stringing words as I do compounds.”

  “For what it is worth, I am dreadfully inept at mathematical problems and anything related to physics. I suppose that is the reason for the differing abilities in people. One has to complete the other, each being an extension of the previous to cover the entire spectrum of all things,” Nina said as they neared the warm glow in the drawing room.

  “There is that philosophy again,” Lydia noted, smiling. “So tell me, Nina, how much do you know about World War II?”

  Sam laughed heartily, “She knows enough to have been there, Lydia.”

  Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps we should send Nina back the same way to go and get Dave. Nobody would know better how to track down a spoiled adventurer from the present like someone who knows the ways of that era like the back of her hand.”

  Chapter 17

  “Good morning. I am here as substitute structural engineer for the Alice,” Christian Foster said in a heavy accent nobody he spoke to could place. He made certain that his pronunciation sounded exotic without prompting Swedes or Dutch staff, for instance, to assume he was their fellow countryman. It was all part of his deception.

  “Let me contact one of the heads at Atlas, sir. One moment,” the pleasant receptionist replied in a very professional manner.

  “Uh, no, no,” Foster protested, “not Atlas. I am due at the Alice.”

  She rolled her eyes and shrugged coyly, “I’m so sorry, Mister…” and she stole a look at his security card, “…Millerson. I must have heard you wrong,” she smiled. “Forgive me, I am still getting used to all the different accents.”

  “Please, don’t feel bad about it. I am a bit of an acquired taste,” he winked.

  The receptionist sorted out his appointment and paged the head of the Alice project to meet the new engineer at the cafeteria. “Just over there,
Mr. Millerson,” she directed him to the clean windows in the aluminum door frames. “Dr. Blake will meet you in the next few minutes.”

  “Thank you kindly,” he dipped his head respectfully, blond tresses tied back and spectacled like a proper science expert. The towering gentleman strode slowly through the milling people. Behind his back the receptionist whispered to a filing clerk, “Fucking hell, Janet, he is delicious!”

  “Dr. Blake, very good to meet you,” Foster smiled and shook the hand of the Alice commander. Dr. Blake had already received Foster’s credentials, excellently faked beyond his detection and his assistant had already run the mandatory background checks on the falsified identity of the methodical operative.

  “Mr. Millerson, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” Dr. Blake said rather abruptly. He was a man who valued progress and efficiency far above humor or amity, therefore he cut straight to the chase, escorting Foster to what the head of Alice thought was the engineer’s new assignment.

  As he described the work and presented Foster with all the rules and shifts of the job, Foster’s photographic memory recorded the various turns and beacons so that he could find his way if he had to return at some point. No amount of information was ever too trivial for him, and any detail left unused was simply tucked back into his memory. Even as the brilliant mercenary took note of the buildings and the directions of all the detectors inside the 27km pipeline of the Large Hadron Collider, he still took in the wealth of nonsense Dr. Blake was describing. Foster’s mind was trained to sift through facts and only keep that which would be beneficial to his mission. Until now there was nothing worth keeping from all the unnecessary facts presented, but then Dr. Blake said something of interest.

  “And then they saw him on the closed circuit television, the security people. That is how we found out he was involved in something underhanded. I hope you don’t show that much interest in the project, Millerson. Just do your job,” Dr. Blake said sternly.

  “And after that he was dead?” Foster asked.

  “Yes, after he dragged that journalist in here against policy,” Dr. Blake replied.

  “To do what?” Foster asked in an amazed tone. It was all part of playing innocent, sounding oblivious to the weight of the issue. “I can’t believe the lengths to which some people will go for attention.”

  “Exactly what I thought,” Blake agreed, loosening up a bit in the company of such an astute employee. “Sam Cleave was seen just a few minutes later in the company of two strangers right here, non-staff, just like him!”

  “Dr. Blake, I think can help with this investigation,” Foster urged. “I’m a former police detective. Could I have a quick gander at those two men who accompanied Cleave? It won’t take a moment of your time and besides, my shift only starts in twenty minutes.”

  After much inner deliberation Dr. Blake agreed to take Foster to the security section to run the now infamous clip of the only employee of the CERN LHC project to ever be killed on the job, so to speak. He introduced Foster to the security staff and briefly explained why he would like Foster to have access to the clip. However, Blake had to get back to the Alice and decided to leave Foster with them until the new engineer was due at the detector for his first shift.

  “Almost there, let me just shift the timer,” one of the security officers told Foster.

  “Take your time, by all means,” the friendly giant smiled.

  “Here it is,” the officer said two minutes later. “I’ll slow it down for you. You see, we could only catch their movements on the far left of the container. Our interior cameras were destroyed with the initial fire, so we had these temporaries mounted. Not a great view from them, but you can see one of the other men as well as the journalist when they move out from this point here.” With his index finger pressed on the screen he marked the area where Foster attention was needed. “Ready?” Foster nodded. The officer played the clip where Sam stalked the two obscured figures at the container, but they were off screen. When Sam stepped through the archway Purdue and Lydia’s butler appeared to block off what they construed as an intruder on their intrusion.

  “Stop!” Foster shouted, startling the whole office into silence. “Zoom this section in. Can you?”

  “Certainly can,” the officer said, enlarging the men on the screen.

  Foster leaned in and his mouth fell open. Inaudibly he said, “Healy!”

  Chapter 18

  “Nina?” Maria laughed. “You will feel better after you have had some sleep, David.”

  The two beauties giggled over Purdue’s strange exclamation. “Is Nina your wife, David Purdue?” Maria smiled as she dressed his wounds very carefully.

  “No,” he replied with great difficulty through the bolts of pain shooting through his skin wherever the warm sponge touched him. He looked at Sigrun in disbelief. Her eyes, her mouth, the shape of her nose and even her mannerism was that of Nina Gould. While she watched Maria tend to his injuries his eyes constantly met hers and Sigrun’s glare would penetrate his mind.

  “Nina?” he whispered very softly as Maria’s chores whipped up a proper noise when she rinsed the bowls and ran the water. Still Sigrun did not break their visual bond. Purdue looked to see that Maria’s back was still turned. “Nina, is that you? Did you come to bring me back?” Sigrun seemed to understand his plight, but not once did she answer him in thought or word.

  “Where are your men, soldier?” shouted Sturmbannführer Haupt as he breached the closed door and stormed at Purdue, bayonet in hand.

  “You cannot come in here and attack our captives!” Maria reprimanded him. Haupt relented, keeping the point of his blade to Purdue’s throat. He stood aside, but remained adamant.

  “I am standing right here until you are done with your pampering, Maria. Then the Allied soldier is ours to interrogate.

  “So you are going to make a mess of all my good work here?” she snarled. He only shrugged.

  Purdue only caught one or two words here and there. He wished he paid more attention when he and Nina had that holiday in Austria a few years ago. But Nina did all the talking there and he did not bother to learn German because she was always there. He looked at the dark beauty of Sigrun, the way in which her long brown ponytail meandered over the curves of her body. Even now, Nina was here, Purdue thought. She was always there.

  Sturmbannführer Gestern came in, enquiring when Maria would be done with him. She tried to stall, but to no avail. Purdue’s wounds were dressed. Now that his second degree wounds were treated, he would be taken.

  “Where are you taking him? I need to redress his wounds every day otherwise the flesh will get septic. He’ll get a high fever and then he will die, Gestern,” she reminded them.

  “We are taking him to a cell right here in the basement of the Reichkanzlei, Maria. There is no sign of his men, so we need to contain them in here until we have flushed them all out,” he told Maria.

  For the first time in a long while the mysterious dark woman spoke, “Hermann, there are no others.”

  The German officers were struck mute by her statement. For a moment they just looked at Sigrun, exchanging glances between one another and then they scrutinized Purdue’s expression. Their Scottish prisoner shrugged, revealing that he had lied to them. Gestern walloped Purdue with a leather gloved fist that cracked two of his teeth.

  Against the roof of Purdue’s mouth a slight click alarmed him. He could not remember what the thing was or why he had it in his mouth, but something about it was apparently important, as far as his instincts warned.

  “You lied to us?” Haupt sneered.

  “I had to. You would never believe that I came here on my own,” Purdue defended with as cordial a tone as he could. His torso pulsed with agony from the nerve damage. “I will tell you anything you want to know if you just let me get some clothes on.” The two officers were reeling to kill the captive, but they were not allowed to just yet. “Bitte?” Purdue tried.

  “Stop trying to spea
k our language, traitor. You are just violating it with your filthy tongue,” Haupt commanded. “One more word in German and I will cut out your tongue, yes?”

  “Aye,” Purdue replied proudly, evoking a fit of laughter from the two men, who continued to make a mockery of him in German to the girls.

  “Have you looked up his kilt yet, Maria?” Gestern laughed. Haupt chuckled, leaning on Purdue’s shoulder to see his face twist in pain. Maria maintained her English for Purdue’s sake.

  “Get lost, you two. You are not going to get far with him before Adolf had spoken to him. Now wait outside, so that I can dress him in proper clothes before you take him to the cells,” she told them, and they stood right outside, still laughing about the Scotsman and the change of pants.

  “Adolf? Purdue groaned. He was terrified at the prospect of what would befall him now, but to speak to Adolf Hitler would be a tarnished honor indeed. “Am I going to speak to Hitler himself?”

  “No, my dear David. Adolf Diekmann. And although he is not the Führer, he is in command of the Waffen SS regiment called ‘Der Führer’. It is a coincidence, ja?” Maria told him. Purdue looked at Sigrun. She did not want to depress him even more but thought to alert him. “You would have maybe had a better chance at surviving had you spoken to our Führer instead of Diekmann. He is a monster.”

  “Oh Christ, if a Nazi calls someone a monster I am as good as dead. And all this before I have even seen Helmut,” Purdue moaned to himself.

  “Helmut?” Maria asked as she pulled down Purdue’s hacked up, charred pants. He desperately wanted to distract the ladies from his manhood, which was about to betray his attraction to them. He spoke loudly to draw their eyes away, “Helmut Kämpfe. I need to see him before I go.”

 

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