I looked around the lab one last time as we left, trying to see if there was anything I’d missed, something here I could use to take control of the situation if it came to that.
Nothing.
FORTY
October 14, 1888, Kokin Brod, Serbia
We walked back up to the house, but the guests he expected did not materialize. The nearby villages were supposed to send militia volunteers to help defend against the Turks believed to be on their way. Instead, most of them sent their regrets. Between the azhdaja and the reports of Turkish marauders in the area, no men could be spared. Tesla’s angry reaction told me I was right about one thing—he was long on hardware and short on bodies to man the defenses.
We retired to his library, he to brood in an overstuffed chair, me to trade “make my day” looks with my personal pistolero. Before long, Gabrielle joined us. She looked at me for a moment, her expression a mixture of sadness and concern, but not guilt as far as I could tell.
“Nikola,” she said, “the people in the kitchen just told me they saw signal rockets burst in the air high above the ridge, one every five minutes for half an hour, the evening before last.”
“What of it?” Tesla said, but then glanced at me. “You smile, Dr. Fargo. You know what that means?”
Smiling? Probably grinning like a little kid was more like it. Yeah, I knew what the rockets meant.
“Serbia celebrates the Fourth of July in October?” I ventured.
“Non,” Gabrielle said. “It is the signal for Cevik Bey to cross the frontier and march to the aid of Capitaine Gordon’s party.”
“That would be the party that was wiped out,” I said. “Gee, I guess somebody survived after all. I wonder who?”
Gabrielle looked from Tesla to me, and then she nodded in understanding. Tesla had lied to us.
“Your expression betrays you, Dr. Fargo,” Tesla said. “Are you rethinking your position? Let me remind you that if the British and Turks take this facility, you will lose the means of returning to your own world. Is that the result you desire?”
No, it wasn’t. So why had I smiled? I guess I was glad somebody I knew might still be alive. He was right, I needed for him to win in order to go home, but I didn’t have to rejoice in the fact. Singe the Old Man’s whiskers. . .
“You really like the number three, don’t you?” I said.
Tesla looked startled.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Three gun redoubts, laid out in a rough triangle, each redoubt with three guns. Three machinery buildings. Three Forever Engines. An iron walking machine with three legs. Your quarters are on the third floor, the third door from the stairs. You have four buttons on your jacket and five on your vest but in both cases button only the top three. There’s room in the hangar for three zeppelins, even though you only have one here now. With one crashed on the mountainside, I’d say you have another one out there somewhere on another mission. Is it waiting for the Hochflieger Ost? Bet you wish you had a radio right about now, huh?”
He stared intently at me, and his right hand moved to his jacket, fiddled with the fourth, unbuttoned, button, but he did not button it.
After an uncomfortably quiet dinner, we all turned in. I think all of us knew that tomorrow would bring some sort of a decision. Despite Tesla being shorthanded, a guard stood watch outside my door, and Tesla locked the bolt behind me himself. After about fifteen minutes or so the guard unbolted the door and opened it to let Gabrielle in.
“It’s polite to knock,” I said.
“En Francais,” she said. I remembered that was how she and Tesla kept the locals from understanding what they were saying. I nodded. “If I come again I will knock,” she continued in French, “but I have come to tell you something and must leave quickly. This is difficult for me. My path is confused.” She frowned in distress for a moment but continued. “My brother is convinced that with the inquisitiveness of your world and its vast scientific and industrial resources, it is only a matter of time before they return to this world, particularly once you tell your story there. Then they may be the architects of our future here. He does not believe your people will side with him.”
“He’s right. So he’s not going to send me back after all.” I’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop, and here it was.
“Yes, he is. He will do as he promised. However, that is not all he plans to do. He has a plan which I do not understand—it has to do with electromagnetic fields, which he understands better than I. But be believes he can use his device not simply to transmit material between the worlds, but electromagnetic energy itself.”
“Maybe. Don’t see why not. So what?”
“He listened to everything you told him about solar flares, their potential effects on your world and how they are triggered by changes in the sun’s magnetic field. He plans to cause a large solar flare in your universe. He says it will kill no one but will destroy much of your technological base. Is this possible?”
I say down on the bed. Possible? I didn’t know if he could actually trigger a solar flare from here, but if he could—damn. A big enough flare, just one as big as the 1856 flare, would pretty much fry the processors of every private and commercial computer in the world, not to mention scrub their memories, end satellite communication, crash every stock market, and bust every bank in the world. It might not kill anyone directly, but millions would die from its effects eventually. It would end my world as I knew it.
“Yes, it’s possible.”
“I cannot help you, Jack. You understand? My loyalties are with my brother and this world. But I thought you should know this. Perhaps when you are back with your daughter you can make precautions so the two of you will be safe. He says he must build up and discharge the energy in the lake at least three times to create the necessary effect, which will take over a month, so there will be time for you. Now I must go.”
Once she’d left I washed as thoroughly as I could in the water basin, did my toilet, changed into clean clothes, and lay on the bed. I wasn’t sure I could sleep, had lots to think about, and if something happened suddenly in the night, I wanted to be ready. I left off my boots as a concession to civilization. One thing was sure: I couldn’t let Tesla follow through with his plan. I didn’t know if he could really carry it off, but that didn’t matter. I couldn’t take the chance. No matter what else happened, Tesla couldn’t be allowed to follow through on this plan.
I dozed for an hour or two, but woke with my mind teeming with the possibilities of the coming day. I knew Tesla was weak in personnel, but his defenses were set up to be mutually supporting, and with telephone wire strung to all of them, he could probably move his men around to where they were needed most. If Cevik Bey came, he would have about five hundred or more men with him. I would be surprised if Tesla had a tenth that number, but they would be manning Gatling guns and cannons firing explosive shells—formidable force multipliers.
In most heroic action stories the Turks would come howling down the valley and Tesla’s men would fire until their guns glowed with heat, cutting down hundreds of the attackers, and it would all come down to the last handful of Turks trying to overwhelm the last handful of defenders. But that’s not what it would be like. After two days of hard marching over the mountains, the Turks would be tired. If they were good soldiers, and the Bosnian riflemen were supposed to be some of the best the Turks had, they would put in a determined attack. But no one was here to commit suicide, especially if there was no prospect of success.
Fifty or a hundred unanswered casualties would be enough to break the Bosnian attack. If they had the notion the defenders were suffering as well, if there was a prospect of success, they might keep coming even with those losses, but it would be tough, and there was no hard science involved in this. I’d seen a battalion-strength attack stopped dead in its tracks by four casualties. You just never knew what would happen on Game Day until you suited up and kicked off.
I thought about Gabrielle and
where she stood in all this as well. She stood with Tesla. That stand brought her less joy than I think she anticipated, but she clung to the decision with the desperation of someone who has already tried everything else. In her mind, this was her last shot at humanity, whatever she imagined that to be. I wondered if Asperger’s was a net asset or liability for a spy. It was hard to tell, since she was the only spy I knew in this world.
No, that wasn’t quite true, was it? I knew two spies. Tesla had told me enough to figure out who his man was on the inside in London. If I had the chance, I’d have to tell Thomson that bit, if Thomson was still alive. Okay, I knew two spies.
No . . . wait. A question had nagged at me for a while, and finally I had the answer to it. I knew three spies.
I heard a sound in the hall and sat up in bed. A scratching—the sound of the bolt being carefully opened. The hall was as dark as the interior of my room, but as I heard the door open I saw a shadowy face appear in the opening. A hand knocked lightly on the door, as if to wake me.
“Gabrielle?” I asked.
“Terribly sorry, old man, but I’m afraid it’s just me.”
“Gordon?”
“Keep your voice down,” he whispered. “And give us a hand with this guard, would you? There’s a good fellow. The brute must weigh sixteen stone!”
FORTY-ONE
Early hours of October 15, 1888, Kokin Brod, Serbia
I helped Gordon and his companion drag the unconscious guard into the room. The companion took the guard’s place on the chair outside, I closed the door, and Gordon and I tied and gagged the guard using strips torn from my bed sheet.
“Who’s your helper?” I asked.
“Radojica’s cousin Zoran. He and his father, Jovo’s uncle, are helping us.”
“Jovo’s alive?”
Gordon’s face darkened.
“No. Tesla’s thugs took him out into the town square and shot him. I suppose that’s why his relatives are willing to help us.”
“They speak English?”
Gordon smiled again.
“Not a word. They speak a bit of German, so the Bavarians have been translating for us. They masqueraded as local militia yesterday, brought some hams and onions right in here while you and Tesla were off somewhere, said it was supplies sent from their village. The cook showed them the way to the pantry on this floor and pretty much ignored them after that. Zoran managed to unlock a window on the main floor before they left, and here we are.”
“How did you manage to communicate with him getting up here?” I asked.
“Sign language. We couldn’t risk talking in any case.”
“What about Thomson and the others? Tesla told me his men killed all of you.”
“Two of the Bavarians were wounded in the fight, but both will survive. We fought off the attack on the ridge, and Thomson managed to pass as a local somehow, so he escaped detection in the town.”
Tesla had lied about everything—everything except Jovo.
Gordon wore the clothes of a Serb hill man, and his eyes followed mine as I looked him over.
“I look the proper bashi-bazouk, don’t I?” he said with relish.
“Hajduci is the Serbian term. Bashi-bazouks are Turkish. Folks around here are sensitive to the difference. So this is a rescue, huh?”
“Quite so. We weren’t sure where they were holding you, but the guarded room seemed a good place to start. Do you know where Mademoiselle Courbiere is held? We’ll collect her next and be on our way.”
Yeah. That was going to be a problem.
“She’s on the next floor up. Her room is right next to Tesla’s.”
Even in the darkness I saw his expression harden.
“The cad!”
Gordon had the wrong idea on that score, but I didn’t feel like setting him straight. Cad was simple, brother complicated—too damned complicated right now.
If we could get to Gabrielle, I didn’t see why we couldn’t get to Tesla and maybe wrap this whole thing up right then, and I said so, but Gordon shook his head.
“There is a light up there, and voices. It sounds as if there may be several guards, and they are awake. Can’t chance it, I’m afraid. Just trying to get you was risky enough, but it seemed worth the gamble. We didn’t want Tesla embarrassing us by using you or Mademoiselle Courbiere as hostages.”
“You mean that would have stopped you?”
He scratched his head and smiled.
“No, and that’s what could have been so embarrassing, you see?”
Despite the situation, I smiled.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I said.
“I confess I am a bit, which is rather surprising.”
Someone knocked softly at the door and then opened it a crack.
“Everything is all correct?” a man asked in heavily accented German.
“Yes. You must be Zoran. Are the guards still moving around upstairs?”
“Yes. I count four voices.”
I translated for Gordon.
“We will wait twenty minutes. If they do not settle down or move off by then, we will have to go,” he said, and I translated it back to Zoran.
The door closed, and we stood there for a moment.
“You do understand the necessity, don’t you?” he said. “To leave her here, I mean, if we cannot effect a rescue?”
“I do.”
“She is a professional agent, after all. She understood the risks when—”
“I understand.”
More than he could imagine. Gordon looked away, clearly uncomfortable. It had to go against the grain for a Victorian officer and gentleman to leave a lady in distress, even a French Communard. It sure rubbed me wrong.
He didn’t think capturing Tesla would work, either. Tesla was too likely to make noise, wake up the guards. Of course, there was always the possibility of not taking him prisoner, but I didn’t share that. Murdering someone in their sleep, even someone like Tesla, was not in Gordon’s playbook, and it sure wouldn’t get me home.
“So what’s the big plan?” I said.
“Cevik Bey is attacking at first light, down the valley, with his rifle battalion. We are to make some sort of diversion. Beyond that there isn’t much agreement. I was thinking . . . well, perhaps you had some thoughts on how we might proceed.”
So that was the real reason for the daring rescue—a consulting gig.
“I’ve got a couple ideas,” I said. “Tesla’s bunkered up pretty good here, and bristling with guns. He’s not getting the help from the locals he was expecting, though, so he’s shorthanded. I think we can work something out, provided Durson is willing to pitch in.”
“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem. That Durson chap is quite remarkable—for an American of course,” Gordon said and smiled. “He’s as good an NCO as I’ve ever seen. Bloody Turks are mad not to make him an officer, considering the riffraff they regularly hire.”
“So put in a good word for him when this is all done.”
“You honestly think the Turks will pay any attention to a simple captain?”
“If we pull this off, they’ll listen to anything you have to say. If we don’t, we won’t have to worry about it.”
He nodded thoughtfully, and we stood quietly for a little while, waiting for the guards to go away or go to sleep.
“Where’s Thomson?” I asked.
“Still in Brezna. He wasn’t physically up to the trek down here, so he’s lying up there until we’re finished. We’ll pick him up on our way back. It seems Jovo salvaged a fair number of components of Tesla’s crashed zeppelin, and the doctor has enlisted most of the town in assembling a powered hot-air balloon of some sort from the wreckage.”
“Think he’ll manage it? It would save us having to hitch a ride back with the Royal Navy.”
Gordon chuckled softly.
“I doubt it will fly, but at least he’s occupied. Quite a remarkable old man. Do you know what he told me after we got back to
Brezna? He made a miscalculation in the age of the Earth. My uncle, Professor Tyndall, was correct in his beliefs all along. Thomson will publish his retraction as soon as we return to England. Can you imagine? I wonder if anyone alive could even have discovered his error. But he is willing to risk ridicule to honor a dead man with whom he could hardly exchange a civil word when they were alive. Quite remarkable. Well, he’s safe where he is, and we will pick him up after this business is finished.”
“Assuming everything goes according to plan,” I said, but something nagged at me. “The problem is Tesla has a surprise up his sleeve, something to do with electricity. I just don’t know what it is.”
“We have a surprise as well,” Gordon said. “Harding has returned with Intrepid and is bringing it across the border tomorrow to support the attack. I rather suspect he has considered how being surprised twice by the black zeppelin will look back in London and has decided he needs to do something spectacular to salvage his reputation. Well, whatever his motives, he’s here. Let Tesla try to use his zeppelin tomorrow, with an armored cruiser aloft—and this time at action stations with guns manned.”
“It’s something else.”
Gordon slapped me on the arm.
“Whatever it is, we’ll find a way to deal with it.”
Gordon seemed different, more confident. It reminded me of the conclusion I’d come to earlier.
“So, how long have you been a spy?” I said.
He froze for a moment, then he laughed softly, but the laugh sounded forced.
“Well, I’ve been in military intelligence for ages now, if that’s what you mean.”
“It’s not, and you know it.”
He took out his pocket watch and checked it, but there was still plenty of time.
“Well, I’m afraid—”
“Can it, Gordon. You’re busted. You’ve gone to great lengths to exchange out with officers in your regiment to stay in England, in the intelligence office, rather than take the field overseas.”
“Yes, as General Buller was so quick to point out as well. But as you recall, he concluded I was a coward, not a spy.”
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