Tesla's Revenge

by Renee Sebastian

  The ticket dispenser called over to us when we walked in and said, “Made it in the nick 'o time, ya' did. Ya' must be the last of 'em. Hurry on over, so I can get the hell out of here. I'm boardin' that damn train myself.”

  Tesla asked, “And where might it be going, Sir?”

  “Niagara, Sonny. The other tracks have been barricaded by the military. My wife and I live there, and they tell me that the Niagara line is the only one still open for some reason. I'm just glad it is and I'm not about to look no gift horse in the mouth.”

  Dorian said, “Then we'd like to buy some tickets to get out of this forsaken place as well, sir.”

  “The purchase line for ring credits is down, I can only accept cash.” Which was just as well, Dorian pulled up his satchel and removed some coins from the sale of the horses. Once he settled up the price of the tickets, I heard him inquire about the food arrangements on the train. I couldn't help but smile to myself.

  I then suggested to Tesla that he go to the lavatory to freshen up. He looked down and appeared startled by his own appearance. Quite an abundance of mud and soot had accumulated on him from when the T.R.A.M. dropped him in the woods. He abruptly took off in the direction of the washroom.

  I narrowed my focus on a phone mounted on the wall near the exit doors, and I decided it was past time to report to S.O.A.R. I rang up the operator and was connected to the public line for the switchboard at the defunct glass factory. I was feeling nervous. Based on what Tesla had told us, it had started a nagging suspicion in my mind that I needed to confirm.

  What I was about to do would either be extremely dangerous or would make me look like a fool. I was prepared to play the fool, if need be, but what if what I suspected proved to be true? I was frightened about what I might find out and what it would mean for me. The line rang five times before anyone picked up.

  A nasally girl picked up the line. I requested to speak to Mr. Remington, but she had transferred my call to Mr. Van Moot instead. He said, “Wendy, where are you girl? The last we heard you were in Abraham. What's the status with Tesla? Have you found him yet?”

  “No, we are no longer in Abraham; in fact, we are just outside of Buffalo. The contact we met in Abraham suggested that we come here.”

  “Very good. Have you found Tesla?”

  “Sir, the city is on fire and another shaker has made the city center collapse into rubble.”

  “Yes, yes, this we know already, but Tesla, have you made contact yet?” he persistently inquired.

  “No. We haven't.”

  Disappointment flavored his voice when he said, “That's too bad.”

  “Yes sir, but I believe that we are getting close.”

  “Stupendous, then if there is nothing else...”

  I interrupted him and said, “We met another covert agent in the field while here in Buffalo.”

  An awkward silence followed. Then he asked, “And?”

  “The agent in question was Howard Lovecraft.”

  Another awkward silence followed. I waited patiently as the blood left my fist that I had tightly gripped around the phone piece, which caused it to prickle.

  “Very well, Lovecraft is also assigned to capture Tesla. You may choose to work together if the circumstances prove fortuitous in the future. Very well. Is there anything else?”

  Only years of practice kept the despondency I felt from tainting my voice as I asked, “What if contact is made and the target is uncooperative?”

  “Termination is not acceptable, in this case. Do you understand Agent?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Use one of those darts you have to subdue and capture him. He has knowledge of how to stop the shakers and right now, that is the primary objective. Remember we are trying to save innocent people, understood?”

  I schooled my voice, but to my own ears, it sounded hollow when I said, “Yes, Sir.” I ended with a standard S.O.A.R. closing, letting them know that I wasn't under any duress while making the call. I said, “All be well with you and yours.”

  “All is well.” Then he hung up.

  I listened to the dial tone long enough that the operator came on again and asked if I needed assistance. Dorian took the phone from my hand and placed it back into the hanging cradle. He placed a hand on my shoulder and turned me to him. I kept my gaze averted from his and stared only at the cracks in the linoleum below my feet. They created a spidery network that seemed to spread out in thin tendrils reaching for anything and nothing at the same time. Their effect was not unlike my own situation. They seemed to ensnare me in their network, trapping me in their world of gray and black.

  He took my chin and lifted it, forcing an intimacy that I was unaccustomed to. I turned my head to hide the solitary tear that tickled my cheek. I managed enough of my voice, so that it didn't crack very much, when I asked, “How much of that did you hear?”

  He removed his hands from me and replied, “Enough to know that this conversation would benefit from some privacy.” He looked over my shoulder and eyed the ticket monger behind the desk. I nodded, fearing my voice would betray me.

  Tesla returned from the washroom, and was still absentmindedly brushing himself down to no avail. The dust would have to be scrubbed out. Those stains would come out, unlike other blots. Finally, he looked up and approached us warily.

  Tesla started to ask, “Is everything...”

  Dorian saved me from having to say anything by cutting him off saying, “Fine, yes, let's hurry. I have procured the most accommodating double roomette available according to the ticket seller for our comfort.”

  ···•Ͽ Ѡ Ͼ•···

  After vacating a couple of room crashers from our car, Dorian secured the door and settled down in the seat next to me. He leaned back, stretched his legs out, and exhaled a long breath that he seemed to have been holding in for a long time. He closed his eyes and asked, “All right Wendy, tell me exactly what you said and what they said.”

  After I finished speaking, leaving no detail unspoken, Dorian remained still, eyes closed, still deep in thought. Tesla spoke up first, “You're Wendy Darling, as in the Wendy-of-Neverland Darling?”

  I sneaked a look at Dorian, who was trying valiantly, but losing terribly, to suppress a grin. Leave it to Tesla to not grasp the most critical elements and focus on something else entirely.

  “Yes, that Wendy Darling, and I wish Neverland would become nevermore, to be completely honest.”

  “You don't mean that Wendy,” Tesla said. “It must be amazing to see another plane of existence.”

  I thought of a few very unladylike curses would suitably describe it, but managed with more than a hint of disdain, when I said, “There are more sights in that world that no one should ever see in one lifetime, let alone several. I will tell you that Neverland holds no charm for me, and let me shed special significance of my hatred onto the occupants. I've got no family, friends, or children, because of them. The closest thing I have to a friend is a Chinese medicine lady who doesn't even know my real name.”

  Tesla boldly boasted, “Why Miss Darling, you would have never have met me, if you weren't immortal.” He stroked his mustache, as if he had just said something very clever.

  I chuckled and then rolled my eyes, as I said, “No wonder there aren't many female immortals, if this is the company they are forced to keep.”

  Dorian sighed melodramatically and then reminded us, “We are diverging from the matter at hand. It will be only a matter of time before your rouse is discovered, comrade.”

  Nikola asked facetiously, “So, does this mean that you are no longer trying to induct me as an honorary member of S.O.A.R.?”

  Dorian voiced my worst fear, “That is the least of our worries. Once they confirm that Wendy never was actually introduced to Lovecraft, they will begin to explore what other untruths that she may have told them. Sooner rather than later, they will certainly ascertain the whereabouts of you and then we will all be targets of various assassins and factions.”
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br />   “Let us not forget the true evil at hand, Lovecraft himself,” I added.

  “Oh, I still think it is Edison, my dear,” Tesla asserted.

  Almost reverently, Dorian said, “Yes, Lovecraft will make a worthy adversary.” Tesla and I exchanged incredulous expressions, while Dorian appeared to be deep in his own thoughts.

  “Do you have any objections about telling Tesla about the actual incident that we observed with Lovecraft?”

  Dorian replied, “I have none.”

  I filled Tesla in on all the nastiness that transpired and asked his opinion.

  Tesla turned ashen. He was quiet for a while, but finally Tesla said, “I was safer without the lot of you, I think. Wendy, do you think once I topple the White House that you could smuggle me into Neverland to hide out until all this blows over?”

  I teased, “Speak true and I will consider it.” I couldn’t really do that, but he didn’t know it, so I asked instead, “What do you think he is up to?”

  Tesla grimaced, but finally said, “I believe Lovecraft is trying to make an inter-dimensional portal.” He paused for effect and then continued, “Which dimension, I assume, will be your next question. I believe there is no doubt which one. It is evident by the tactics he is employing that he is seeking passage to the demon dimension.” Was that even a real dimension? I thought it was simply a story like the boogey man to frighten people from ever trying to discover it. I hadn’t seen a Summoner summon a demon in too many years. Of course, Summoner magic was outlawed officially in this country, so that might explain why.

  “I am afraid that I made the shaker, but I never thought that the extraneous particles emitted by it could be used to such a detrimental cause.”

  My stomach fell. Why would anyone want this? Power? Control? To climb the mountain because it was there to conquer? Check all of the above. Somehow, Tesla had made this possible. Maybe he could fix it.

  “A brave man I must be, because I need to make this right. It aligns with my objective enough to hurt the government. To stop this would damage it, too,” Tesla said.

  Maybe Tesla had some magical abilities to aid us in our now mutual goals. “Do you have any magic that runs through your blood?”

  He squirmed a tad bit while adjusting his tie, but finally answered, “I have no magic except the magic of science running through my veins. I have developed a contraption that channels A.C. current into the body and resets the DNA and mitochondria to optimal working levels. So, whenever the height of your health would be, it will set your age to that level of health and youthfulness.”

  I couldn't stop myself from asking, “What if you haven't reached your optimal age yet? Would it age you prematurely to it?”

  “Based on my studies, it is inert on juvenile species. Their DNA replicates too quickly to be sabotaged by the current.”

  Regretfully, I admitted, “Nikola, I'm sorry, but I may have exaggerated my influence in getting you into Neverland. There are only two ways to get into it. One is by being a Fairy and the other is by being invited by them.” Unless you were Peter, who by association, had an extended ability to invite, but it would have been suicide for Tesla to cross-over. “I'm not of Fairy blood, so I can't invite you.”

  “I didn't think you really could do it. It was hopeful thinking on my part. I understand Miss Darling,” he replied.

  Dorian asked, “I would like to know more about the science behind the shakers.”

  Tesla nodded, but before he could expound upon the device, Dorian held up two fingers and said, “But I am feeling voracious right now, I might eat Ms. Darling's bags if I don't get some food first. Tesla, why don't you find out when breakfast is being served and see if we can get a food cart delivered to our car?”

  Tesla looked back and forth between us and said, “I am rather famished myself.” He stood to leave, but once he got to the doors, he stopped and turned his chin over his shoulder and said, “I feel like I may have finally found some true comrades. I would hate to have to part ways with you after we arrive at the Falls.” He then opened up the doors, stepped through, and closed the frosted glass pocket doors on his way out.

  Dorian then withdrew his pad of paper, took out his pen and poked a finger with it. Then he dipped the pen in his blood and wrote on four pieces of paper that he stuck in four places around the car, one on the window, one on the floor vent, another on the door, and the last one on the emergency escape hatch in the ceiling.

  Dorian then sat across from me, but leaned over so far that his knees bumped mine. Then he turned his whole attention toward me.

  “Are those anti-eavesdropping wards?” I asked.

  “Yes and anti-magic wards, too.”

  “Very well. What is this all about?”

  “Take out your darts,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Just take out your darts.”

  “Why?”

  “In the S.O.A.R. file on you, it informed me that one of your darts is a truth serum.”

  I stared at him.

  “You won't believe what I have to say, unless you use one of your truth darts.” He wanted me to use it on him and not Tesla”

  I thought it over and said, “All right.” I slipped off my coat and readied one of my purple darts. I looked into his stormy blue eyes, and didn't know why exactly I told him, just before I poked him with it, but I said, “Remember, this poison only makes you tell the truth when you speak. If there is a question you don't want to answer, then simply do not say anything.”

  “Thank you for that out, but I won't need it. Now do it. I'd really like to find out if I am impervious to your darts.” He winked at me.

  “Oh, everyone is susceptible, Dorian, even strong immortals, such as yourself.” I hoped.

  I jabbed the tip through his pants and into his thigh. I pulled it out, and then he said, “I'm going to try and lie. Ask me a question that you already know the answer to.”

  “Do you love being an immortal?”

  “Well, that's what I get for thinking you were going to ask me my name. Tell me Wendy, is it that obvious?”

  “Just answer the question, Dorian.”

  “Yes, I do love being an immortal. Life is just one big adventure. Mine happens to be longer than others,” he said as he smiled smugly. “Now ask me something tougher?”

  “What are your intentions towards Nikola Tesla?”

  “I want to see to his safety.” He paused a moment and then added, “And, I need to see how effective and replicable his immortality machine is. I do wonder what S.O.A.R. will do if they are able to force Tesla's hand to show them how to use it. For all our sakes, I hope that suitcase they found was incomplete, so they won't be able to figure out anything on their own.

  “Wendy, you must have concluded that S.O.A.R. is not what they have represented themselves to be to you. You must see that since they are in league with Lovecraft, that they, by association alone, are evil. They are traipsing along causing havoc in the Republic, and I fear, the world.”

  “I understand the weight of the situation, Dorian. I am just uncertain what I can do about it. I don't personally have resources available to me to rectify this mess.”

  “Instead of killing or kidnapping someone, why not simply focus your talents into protecting and hiding someone then?” he asked.

  “That is the antithesis of everything I have done for at least two hundred years.”

  “Two hundred years is too long a time to do any one thing, Miss Darling.”

  “While I may not have the skill set or resources at my disposal to protect Tesla as well as I might like, what affiliate office abroad sent you to the S.O.A.R. central office? Do the people you work for have more expansive and expendable resources?”

  “The affiliate office is the London branch of the Thaumatology Agora. When I am done with my report, they will no longer be an affiliate office, at all. S.O.A.R.'s goals do not match our own.” He then pulled up his arm and showed me a tattoo that was reminiscent of the very
familiar Masonic compass.

  The outer circle was usually a simple circle, but this circle was an Asian dragon devouring itself. Upon closer inspection, the eye of the dragon was the Egyptian Wedjat. The squaring tool was a set of koi, head to head. At the pivot point of the compass was the capitol letter T, which I assumed stood for science of Thaumatology, or occult magic. In the middle of the whole thing was the ever-present Hebrew letter for Yod, the letter G. Whether that G stood for God, geometry, Hebrew mysticism, or some phallic representation, depended on the Order. The Society of course had their own symbolism, but whereas the Black Crow had its mysticism in the Native's magic, Dorian's was a meshing of world magic. I observed that his symbol was extremely more complex than the Society's symbol.

  When I finally looked up from it, he said, “But we are not run by the same people that run S.O.A.R. We are an independent agency that has ties with old world organizations. While it is true that I am on loan from an affiliate office in Europe, that is not where my true loyalties lay.

  “I hold true to what I believe to be right and if the time came that the Agora proved false to me, I would leave it, whether they approved of it or not. There is always a choice Wendy.”

  I thought to myself that I knew where most of his loyalties were probably directed. Before I immigrated to the Americas, I had applied to the Freemasons, but was rejected purely on my sex, rather than on any magical merit. I promptly picked up and moved across seas to the Republic, at least the Natives respected women elders and their magical prowess. This attitude leached, however slowly, into the Republic's common lore and belief systems until the role of women in the Republic was the nearest the status of men as any nation in the world.

  Users may be feared and sometimes detested, but at least women could be regarded just as magical as a man might be. Rather than state my prejudices against the Freemasons, I asked, “And can you expound upon your sense of loyalty? What is the reason you were assigned to S.O.A.R. in the first place?”

  He made a small strangled noise from his throat, like he wanted to tell a lie, but couldn't spit it out. He twisted his lips and said, “It appears that my loyalties are divided.”