by Marty Chan
The others gathered around the room. Mr. Gould dusted himself off. He spoke calmly as he brushed off the soot from his jacket. “As much as I hate to say this, Mr. Edison was correct about AC technology. I believe I shall invest my money elsewhere. I don’t know about you gentlemen, but I could do with a shot of whiskey.”
The others murmured agreement. Tesla glared at his equipment.
“There is no way this should have happened. Nothing could have sparked a fire. I’ve tested the coils a thousand times.”
Ehrich held out the box. “I think this might have something to do with it.”
“Give that back,” Mr. Gould ordered.
Tesla snatched the box from Ehrich. “Hmm. An ignition device. Filled with a bit of kerosene and a flint.” He turned to the bearded man. “What is the meaning of this, sir?”
“None of your business.”
“I think he meant to sabotage your demonstration,” Ehrich exclaimed.
Tesla shook his head. “Another one of Edison’s spies. Gentlemen, I trust this cheap parlour trick will not stop you from investing in the future.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Mr. Gould sputtered. “AC technology is obviously unsafe.”
“You have a horse in this race, Mr. Gould. I don’t think your opinion carries the same weight as it did before.”
The bearded man fell silent.
“Now that the tomfoolery is over and done with, may I suggest someone else step on the platform so I can demonstrate just how safe my technology is?”
No one else took Tesla up on his offer. The doubt on their faces spoke volumes. While they shunned Mr. Gould, they couldn’t afford to take a chance. One by one, they begged off and left the lab. Only the saboteur was left.
Mr. Gould cracked a grin. “Mr. Edison sends his greetings.”
Tesla nodded. “Let me return the favour.” He reached behind the console and pulled out a volt pistol. He fired it at Mr. Gould’s leg and sent shocks up and down the man’s body. He twitched as he fell to the ground, howling in pain. Tesla leaned over him. “Tell your employer that if I wanted my technology to hurt others, it wouldn’t be that hard.”
The man whimpered.
“Mr. Weisz, would you be so kind as to take out the trash?”
“Yes sir.” Ehrich grabbed Mr. Gould by the arm, hauled him to his feet, and led him out of the lab.
When Ehrich returned, Tesla sat down on the platform.
“Who is Edison?”
Tesla answered, “Thomas Edison—do you not know that name?”
Ehrich nodded. “He is the one who invented the light bulb, and he’s the one trying to get electrical power into New York, isn’t he?”
“Direct current energy. An inferior technology which costs twice as much. He’s no inventor. He’s a businessman who prefers to bully his competition out. I used to work for him when I lived in Budapest. He had some trouble with his German engineers and his European generators. I offered him some improvements to his equipment, and I suggested a better way to deliver energy, but the arrogant man only listened to the sound of his own voice. Now he wants to get an iron grip on all the electrical delivery systems in North America. He sees my AC technology as a threat. He tried to buy out my patents, but I had a champion who refused to give Edison control. Now he wants to discredit me by claiming my technology is dangerous.”
“You think the man who set himself on fire works for Edison?”
Tesla nodded as he rubbed his hands together. “This investors’ meeting was my chance to get AC technology into the hands of the people. Could you not see the expressions on their faces? They were intrigued until the fire.”
“I don’t understand, Mr. Tesla. You say the AC technology is cheaper. Shouldn’t that be enough for these businessmen?”
“Ah, there is where you are wrong. People have the most difficulty picturing what is yet to be. If you spark their imaginations, you have to create the illusion of what you see but they do not. Make them see the possibilities. My demonstration was to spark their passion, which would in turn lead to their investments. In other words, I had to put on a show. Sadly, it was not a very good one.”
“You’ll have other chances,” Ehrich said.
“Do you know how hard I had to work to convince these men to come today? No one has taken me seriously since George Westinghouse.”
“Who?”
“My original business partner.”
“What happened to him?”
“I firmly believe that Edison had him killed. Mr. Westinghouse was travelling through the Bowery when a fight broke out. A ruffian spooked the coach’s horses and they panicked. The coach overturned, crushing Mr. Westinghouse. He died from his injuries. I tried to tell people the accident was actually Edison’s ploy, but no one believed me. My business dealings dried up and I found myself working here.”
“When did this happen?”
“Two years ago.”
Ehrich stiffened. He recalled his arrival in this dimension and the horses he had spooked. Could he have been responsible for this? He dismissed the coincidence “Sir, is there anything we can do to get those investors back?”
“I appreciate your offer, young man, but I’m going to have to start at the beginning. Thank you though for exposing the spy.”
“I wish I could have done more.”
Tesla shook himself out of his daze. “You may have cast doubt in the investors’ minds. Perhaps they will be as reluctant to go with Edison as they are to go with me. That is a small victory.”
“Do you think they may change their minds?” Ehrich asked.
The thin scientist laughed. “If there’s anything I’ve learned about doing business in this country, it is that, when it comes to making money, no deal is ever truly dead. Let’s not dwell on today’s events. I need to distract myself with something positive. You wanted to learn about the book, didn’t you?”
“Commander Farrier will be pleased you have some information.”
“Ehrich, stop pretending. The commander is not interested in this book. You are.”
“What? No. I swear—the commander wants to know.”
“You will have to learn to lie better. The commander only cares about weapons and the book is far from a weapon. Why do you want to learn about this book?”
Ehrich sighed. “It’s complicated, sir.”
“So is the device, but I was able to unlock some of its secrets. The only thing I could not learn was why you care.”
Ehrich eyed the thin man and weighed his options. Perhaps he could tell him only what he needed to know. “You see the insignia on the spine?”
Tesla nodded. Ehrich pulled his medallion by the leather strap and showed him the same image. “I’m wondering what the connection is. I picked this up from a Dimensional,” he said. Technically, he was telling the truth.
Tesla examined the gears within the medallion’s two loops. The gear wheels of the main loops could turn, making a distinct click with each turn, but the movement caused nothing to happen.
“Who did you get the medallion from? Maybe you could ask them.”
“That’s the problem. My brother was wearing it moments before—” Ehrich shook his head. “I don’t know where he got it from. I’d never seen it before.”
“What happened to him?”
Ehrich looked down. “It was my job to look after Dash. Mother told me to keep an eye out for him,” Ehrich said. “But I failed and he died.”
“I’m sorry. How did it happen?”
For so long he had kept all his pain bottled inside. He wanted to confess everything. He pictured the look on Dash’s face right before his brother ran into the knife. His eyes were cold and accusing, but Ehrich couldn’t bring himself to tell Tesla. He wasn’t ready.
Tesla patted him on the shoulder. “My brother died many years ago. He was on his way back to my father’s farm. He was on the path back to the house when he fell off his horse and hit his head. He never woke up again. It was a terrible ac
cident. I miss my brother every day.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Tesla.”
“We are united in spirit, Ehrich. We’ve both lost someone we have loved.”
Ehrich nodded. He felt comfortable with Tesla in a way he had never felt around Charlie or the other squad mates. Tesla lived on this island, separate from the people on Devil’s Island; he even separated himself from the workers on Randall’s Island, hiding in his ivory tower. While he was no Dimensional, he was an outsider to Demon Watch, and from what Ehrich could see, pretty much everyone else. Yet, what was intriguing about the man’s isolation was that he seemed not only to acknowledge it but to embrace it.
“I don’t know if Dash stole the medallion from a Dimensional or if someone gave it to him moments before he died. What I’m sure of is that this medallion and his death are connected somehow.”
“How old was your brother?”
“Ten.”
“A curious age,” Tesla said, stroking his moustache. “He could have picked the medallion up off the street.”
“I don’t think so, but I need to know. If I can get some answers, maybe I can make sense of what happened to him.”
“Then let us begin our search,” Tesla said. He ran his finger along the spine and pressed the insignia. The book cover popped open, revealing gears and cogs within the thick tome. From the innards rose a carousel with cut-out images around the black surface. A light shone through the shapes and formed silhouettes on the wall. The carousel began to turn, slowly at first but quickly gathering speed.
The image of a jade tael, a circular disk with a square hole in the centre, formed before their eyes. Indecipherable symbols were etched around the square, wrapping around the circle.
A girl’s voice spoke over the image. “This jade tael belongs to the House of Qi. Let the tael be a symbol of our alliance. When you see it, you can trust whatever comes after.”
The image of a ruby-skinned amazon girl appeared in place of the jade tael. Her black hair was braided into a long ponytail and her eyes were a deep magenta. Two small ivory tusks protruded from either side of her nose. She wore a sleeveless green robe that revealed leather armlets around powerful biceps. A jade tael hung on a leather strap around her neck.
“Who is that?” Ehrich asked.
Tesla shook his head. “Another mystery to be solved.”
The red-skinned girl spoke again. “Contact me after your engineers have examined this. I’m certain you will be interested in what I have to say.”
Her image faded out, replaced with a technical blueprint of what appeared to be a metal arm. At the elbow, there was a set of servos and gears that operated cables connected to the hand. The schematic blinked out and the carousel stopped rotating.
“Now you know the purpose of the device,” Tesla said. “Although it doesn’t use pages, it does contain information; from what I could see, information related to this Dimensional. If you find her, you’ll find the connection to the insignia.”
Ehrich chewed his bottom lip, wondering why Amina needed to ally herself with the red-skinned girl. The mechanical plans suggested their alliance had something to do with technology. What bothered Ehrich was that he didn’t know why they needed this technology.
The Memory Cloud
Over the next two days, Ehrich had found himself stretched thin. Between working for Tesla and helping the squad with their administrative punishment, he barely had time to search for Amina. Today, he caught a break. The squad had no graves to dig and Tesla had no tasks for him. Ehrich could focus on the search.
The newcomers’ quarantine area reminded Ehrich of the Bowery where the street urchins slept in alleyways. As he walked through the women’s section, the curious Dimensionals whispered quietly. Some stared at Ehrich. Others just gazed blankly at the walls. Their glassy eyes made him think of Jacob Riis’ newspaper photos of Lower East Side tenement dwellers. They looked through him as if they were trying to peer beyond him—beyond the walls themselves.
He stopped near an empty bed where one occupant had scrawled on the wall:
Buried alive under their rules,
Life teems around, but not for me.
Let me hear robins greet the morn,
What is life if it is not lived free?
Ehrich knew the answer as soon as he read the question. It was the life he had been living for the last two years, essentially a prisoner of this dimension. Though he could move freely through the city, he could never be free to be himself. He was a Dimensional like the ones stuck here. The only difference was that no one had figured out his secret, and he had to keep it this way, at least until he found the truth about his brother. He was sure that Amina held the key to the end of the quest—if he could just find her.
Only two days had passed since Amina’s arrival on Devil’s Island, so Ehrich assumed that she would still be in quarantine. He described the girl to the newcomers in quarantine, but few spoke English, and those who did speak English did not want to speak to him. He even investigated the children’s dormitory in case Amina had been sent there. No sign of her anywhere.
Then he remembered Piotravisk, the Dimensional who claimed the same sponsor as Amina. Ehrich headed to the men’s quarantine area and found the old man on a cot far away from the others. Piotravisk swirled his hands in the air. White wisps of smoke appeared and morphed into images of the man’s home world. Ehrich had never seen a more elegant illusion; magicians would kill to be able to recreate such a feat.
The green-skinned man seemed oblivious to his surroundings as he conjured images of pyramids and a never-ending seascape, all from his perspective. The memory cloud turned to a field littered with bodies covered in black blood. Ehrich leaned closer and saw round razor-sharp discs littered across the ground. These silver taels had square holes in the centre like the jade tael the red-skinned girl wore. However, these taels were used as weapons to slaughter Piotravisk’s race.
“What happened to your people?” Ehrich asked.
The images disappeared along with the smoke as the man clasped his hands together. He said nothing.
“You were attacked. Who did it?” Ehrich asked.
Piotravisk shook his head.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“My friend. You see her? My name Piotravisk. Her name Amina.”
Ehrich’s eyes lit up. “Can you show me your friend? How do you know her?”
Piotravisk opened his hands. Smoke rose from his fingertips as the illusion of his world appeared once more. Ehrich examined the images of the fallen bodies and the metal taels strewn across the scorched earth. Making her way through the carnage was the dark-skinned Dimensional he sought. She held her hand out and said, “Sir, the army has destroyed everything. You can’t stay here any more.”
Ehrich leaned forward. Piotravisk’s voice drifted up from the memory cloud. “Who are you?” it asked.
“A friend.”
“Will you help me find my wife?’
Amina pursed her lips and answered, “Sure, sure. We’ll look for survivors. But it’s not safe here. We have to leave the area.”
“Why?” Piotravisk’s voice asked.
A shrill whistle. The memory cloud shifted perspective to reveal the source of the sound. A shadowy figure hopped across the battlefield. The figure bent over a fallen person’s head and picked up an orb with his metal glove. He glanced up at Amina, and his eyes widened with recognition.
He curled the metal talons of his gloved hand and hissed, “Pes-s-st.”
Piotravisk spat on the dormitory floor. “Maturator du straeda,” he said in his own language before trying to translate for Ehrich. “Rat… Scavenger.”
In the memory cloud, Amina raised a crossbow and took aim, but the figure scurried away. Ehrich had seen this scavenger before. He was Ole Lukoje, the raggedy man.
Mr. Sandman Returns
In Dante’s Inferno, the Ninth Circle of Hell was reserved for traitors: Cain and Judas were frozen in a
lake along with Mordred, the man who betrayed King Arthur. On Devil’s Island, the Ninth Circle was reserved for those who broke the laws of the land when they tried to smuggle themselves into New York. Their crime was one of desperation.
What spurred such desperation? Piotravisk’s memory cloud offered a glimpse of the bleak worlds the Dimensionals fled. Ehrich only wished the old man knew more about his rescuer, Amina, but Piotravisk only knew her as his saviour. The way Ole Lukoje reacted to Amina, Ehrich suspected the two might have a prior relationship, albeit an unfriendly one. At this point, any connection to Amina was a lead that Ehrich had to follow.
The temperature rose as the lift descended into the depths. The engineers had dynamited a remote part of the island, away from Demon Gate and the dormitories, to fashion the prison beneath the surface, but they failed to install proper ventilation. The only way to reach Ninth Circle was through the wire mesh lift. Escape was virtually impossible, even for the hot and stale air.
Two burly Devil’s Island guards eyed Ehrich warily as the lift came to a stop at the bottom. They recognized his duster as the hunter’s uniform and let him pass. He crossed the vast, man-made cavern. The arc lamps lining the pathway to the guardhouse at the far end lit up the rocky walls and stalactites overhead. A family of bats hung from a few of the outcroppings. The ground level was uneven but clear of obstructions. Beside the mouth of a tunnel, a funicular sat on tracks that led into a dark tunnel. This cable car transport was the only way down to the prison cells, protected by the half dozen teens milling about the guardhouse.
A redhead chewing on the end of a chicken bone strutted over to Ehrich.
“Bit late for a visit, isn’t it?” He spit out the bone and reached into his vest pocket to pull out his stem-winder. He popped the cover with a flourish and checked the time. “I thought hunters kept banker’s hours.”
The onlookers chuckled.
“I’m here to interrogate one of the prisoners,” Ehrich said.