Tesla's Revenge

by Renee Sebastian

  She remotely controlled the flying course of the small bot until it landed on the open palm of her other hand. After setting down the remote, she flipped the switch off from its belly and the thin dragonfly like wings disappeared back under its back. But what was on its back was the real treat. It was a picture of us, with a three dimensional aspect, so that if she turned it, which way or that, I could see a different aspect of me projected onto the screen. The only flaw was the muted display of color.

  She must have seen the hunger in my eyes, because she flatly stated, “Not for sale.”

  I eyed her more appreciatively than before. Even though her eyes were on the small side, I could see the clever sheen now glistening them over while she estimated how much of a threat I really was. If she knew the half of it, she might realize that her life was in peril, but just not today.

  I replied, “Everything has a price, Miss Tallow.”

  “So it does, but are you willing to pay it, missy?”

  “Whatever do you mean, Miss Tallow?”

  “It’s Bea, remember.”

  “Yes Bea, I do recall now.”

  “Goodie. The boy has an uncle on his father's side in Rochester, Toby Earlmann, who knows the craft of talking with the dead, so to speak. Nothing like a Necromancer, mind you, just a Tomb Talker really, but the boy has got to start somewhere.” A Tomb Talker was a person with a minor talent in Necromancy who can speak with dead earthbound spirits. It was a skill that might or might not be registered with the government, but it definitely did not make you a Necromancer.

  “I need someone responsible to take my boy to him for some real schoolin', apprentice like, if you will. You fancy me as someone who can get the job done. If I give up my house for a minute, some real unsavory types could come in and take over my house. They would stake a claim to my land.

  “Ya’ see, I've been a bit lax on my last tax payment, and I don't need no government lackey comin’ in and takin’ over the land that has been in my family for over six hundred years. We may be land poor, but it is still my land, damn it. I also don't need no toff finding my boy and deciding he be better off in some high and fancy school with other toff's kids. Not practical like, I figure, and I know his Pap would have disapproved.”

  I wondered if her husband had been some blue blood's son. So how in the hell did he end up here with her? For me, some things were drilled into me at an impressionable age, like proper speech and manners. She might be related to her brother-in-law Mr. Earlmann, but something told me he wasn't going to happily taking in this nephew or he would have fetched for him when his father died.

  I didn't want to tell her that if her son were sent to a government school that he most likely would not have been housed with other Users' children because of his unique skill set. He would have been sequestered in a government house with private tutors and indoctrinated into the Edison way of thinking sooner or deader.

  “I can't take him now, but what if, when my business with the boys outside is done, I come back and take him then?”

  “No. I don't think ya' realize how strong he is in the magic and how nasty the tax collector is. If he even catches a hair out of place, yer' sent to the stocks. If he knew I had a boy that was an unregistered User, not only would he be sending him 'way from me, but in all truth, I would most likely be killed by a firing squad fer' hidin' it.”

  How I hated the firing squads, terrible business that it was. I had been witness to more than one myself in my lifetime. I almost wished Tesla's electric chair had been chosen over drafting a line of civvies that would shoot a poor bloke in the back, who supposedly broke the law. At least there were no more gallows in the Republic, although I have heard that certain crimes in Britannia you could still choose the rope, and in France, decapitation was still the preferred way to go.

  I did not want this job, so I said, “No, choose something else.”

  I knew my goose was cooked when desperation hooded her gaze and she said, “I might as well climb that tree tonight to hide when that tax man comes. He has a Sniffer ability that is legendary, but even if'n he did not find my boy, he'll find his pets eventually, and he knows my talent is tinkering, not callin' the dead.” She sighed and gloomily added, “He's one of my best customers, in truth.”

  “Actually, Bea, there is a bigger threat afoot here than that of the collector.”

  She eyed me suspiciously. I was too leery to tell her our plight in its entirety, but I did manage to say, "There is a covert Necromancer in pursuit of us.” I then explained how I loathed leading the Necromancer out here, but we didn't even know she and her boy were here in the first place. I paused to work out if the taxman might already know if the Necromancer was here and how she might be able to tie the boy's pets to him, rather than her son. But it mattered not; he was a more pressing concern than any government liaison with a good sniffing ability.

  Which lead me to me next question, so I asked, “How has he not known your boy has this magic all these years, Bea?”

  She blushed, so I studied her face closely, looking for lies, when she said, “His Pappy, was a Void.”

  What a rare find that a Void was, perhaps the rarest of them all. Just being around one made all your magic sucked out and become unusable by the User. I thought all of them had been rooted out years ago, because no organized magical organization wants to touch them, even in matters of war since too much could go wrong with one on your side. They were routinely sterilized, to prevent any more from being born. I had heard rumors of the President keeping one on the payrolls, just in case there were any hostile takeovers, but that was a rumor at best.

  “Are any of his other relations inclined in that way, also?”

  She buttoned up her expression and replied, “None.”

  This was a situation to explore another time. Rochester was not so far away from Buffalo. We could pass Rochester, which was almost on the way to Baltimore. So, I said, “Fine. I'll take him, but I will require more than just our safe passage for this.” I was not a brute, so I added, “I have some coin to purchase some of these bots so that it may help with your taxes, as well.

  “I will also warn you that he will need to follow directions explicitly from Dorian or myself, completely and without argument.” No need to mention Tesla, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to take direction from him myself. This plan of his to blow up the Falls stank like a fox in a hen house. On the other hand, I was not comfortable with how closely related my previous occupation as an assassination was when compared to Teslian terrorist. Certainly, they weren't the same thing, were they?

  That way lay folly, so I asked instead, “Can he do this? Follow Dorian's or my lead implicitly?”

  She said, “I ain't raised no disrespectin' babe. He will do as he is told.”

  “Good. If this Uncle refuses him, it will be his Uncle's responsibility to return him to you, unchaperoned by me.”

  “I'll write the letter now, explainin' as much.”

  “I warn you, that I have a few errands I have to tend to first, before traveling to Rochester. I am afraid that it may involve some illegal activities. I can't be responsible if he gets hurt or dies.”

  “Dead to the world now or dead inside later, what's the difference?”

  “And he'll keep quiet?” I asked again.

  “He'll keep his mouth shut; he always did when his Pappy made the moonshine.”

  “Do you still make the stuff?”

  “I still have the still, but never cared for it myself. When he died, so went the business.”

  “Next time you need cash for the collector, mayhap you should take it back up again, instead of getting yourself into this predicament, Bea.”

  “Truer words never said, sister.”

  “What if the Necromancer comes for you after we leave?”

  “Then I'll know, my boy is alive, even if I'll not be.”

  I thought back to the gypsy's predictions. She'll live at least until after we blow up the Falls. I couldn't get so luck
y as to have the Necromancer die with the flood, could I? He was somewhere near us.

  “It just won't do to keep calling him boy, now will it? What's his name?”

  “Jeremiah Wyatt Tallow, but I call him Jeremy, so you can too, I reckin'.”

  “Done. Now, I want to know more about these bots.”

  She smiled her toothless smile and replied, “From one business woman to another, let me show you somethin' yer' just might fancy.”

  ···•Ͽ Ѡ Ͼ•···

  I wound up purchasing four of her bots. I felt a little guilty taking her prototype of the picture taker. It turned out that there was also an oracular overlay that I could attach to my hoodwinks, where I could actually see through a series of fast taken photographs that were transmitted into the corresponding eyepiece. I got to see remotely what the bot saw itself. The only thing I would improve would be the flight of the bot itself, but I was betting that its flight trajectory was supposed to emulate a real insect’s path. The vertigo it created was not entirely crippling, so it would be a small sacrifice to have such a device. A simple press of the button on the control stick would allow me to take up to six pictures that could be stored within its back.

  She said, “There's a little surprise with that one, too.”

  I said, “I don't like surprises.”

  She smiled and said, “Girl, if anyone needs some good surprises in her life more than me, I think it's you. I'm not going to tell ya' now what it is. You'll just have to find that out for yourself.” She then promptly showed me how to operate another bot.

  The one she showed me next was another remotely controlled one that flew and would self-destruct with a show of lights and smoke. It had a detonator to go with it, like the other had a joystick to control its flying motion, but it was without an oracular, remote viewing apparatus.

  I bought a third miniscule type that could bore into any open orifice on animals or humans, causing death. It cautioned me to the type of person who might be buying her wares. The last bot was a type of homing device. I could place it on someone's person and it's hand held cylinder would blink faster when I was closer to the person, allowing me to track someone from a distance, if need be. She actually gave me a fifth one that was another homing bot, but I had to use it on Jeremy, so it wasn't actually mine. It was apparent that she worried over her son a great deal, since she explained in great detail how he was the type of child that liked to explore now and come home later.

  After the exchange of coin for technology was made, I placed a mark on my map, approximate to where I thought we were. I may have a need to pay this woman another visit in the future to buy more of her toys from her. She appeared tickled pink to have made things that would be put to good use.

  She wrote out and handed me the letter for her uncle. I took it, and while I was packing it away, she exclaimed over my shoulder, “Dynamite! Where in the tarnations did ya' get that?”

  “None of your business,” I replied while I pocketed all the bots in my various coat pockets.

  “Uh, huh,” she muttered. Then she dragged her feet over to the stove and stirred the stew.

  ···•Ͽ Ѡ Ͼ•···

  About an hour after sunset, the Jeremy returned with a raccoon and two squirrels. He skinned and filleted them before then adding the meat to the stew. Satisfied that the stew was almost done, I gave Dorian the bag with the dynamite, for his safekeeping from Bea's wandering fingers. I would sleep on the floor by the door. I did think to put one of the homing devices in the bag for extra insurance, in the false bottom of the bag. I kept the control wand in my pocket with the other bots. Little did I know then, it wasn't Bea I had to worry about at all.

  Once the stew was done, I went inside and prepared two bowls for Dorian and Tesla. I took them outside to serve the lads. Of course, I had sampled my own bowl first and besides smelling a little gamey, the stew was fine. My Hedgewitch palette was so refined in the tasting of poisons, that I would have known if she had tried to slip something in. It’s near impossible to fool any Hedgewitches with poisons, anyway, and with my little pastime with potions, it made the task even more arduous to hoodwink me.

  I sat down with them around the small fire just outside Bea’s front porch. On my heels followed Bea and her son. Dorian watched me take a bite of the stew, then appearing satisfied that I didn't keel over dead, he tucked right into his pot. Tesla picked at his food a bit too long to be polite. I knew it was best to eat squirrel hot and I didn't envy him finishing his cold.

  Bea announced, “Well, boys, looks like your trespassing payment has been reached.” I nearly choked on my food as I astutely avoided everyone's gaze and concentrated on identifying the lumps of food in my bowl.

  Bea wasn't shy, I'd give her that, because she continued by proclaiming, “Yep, you and my youngin' are going to Rochester. You'll be a' leavin' him with his uncle.” Jeremy moaned and she smacked him upside the head, which caused him to spit out a lump of the stew.

  I heard him mutter a muted apology and then Bea continued her train of thought by saying, “Now, I heard you'll be havin' some adventures, to be sure, boy, but you pay attention and do as you're told. If ya’ do, then I’m sure you'll make it to Uncle Toby's house safe and sound.” Then she eyed me up and down, and finished by saying, “More or less intact, I figure.”

  The boy nodded fiercely and replied, “What about my pets?”

  “You'll can bring the dog and the cat, but the others can just suffer a true death.”

  Dorian did not look amused, but managed to interject, “Do you have any creation of the avian persuasion?”

  “Yep. I got me a turkey vulture.”

  Dorian smiled and said, “Perfect. Keep it too, if it won't be too much of a strain on you of course.”

  He smiled crookedly and said, “Sure thing, sir.”

  I took a moment to look to see how Tesla took the news that we would be transporting the boy and he said, “I will not be responsible if anything happens to him before we make it to Rochester.”

  Bea answered, “All worked out and understood on this end. I'm taking a gamble with his life, sending him with you, but lucky for me, I'm a gamblin' sort of gal.” Tesla's mouth twisted and he put down his bowl for good.

  Bea had finished eating by now, so she proceeded to get up and walk about, collecting the mostly empty bowls in an effort to clean up. Jeremy followed her apron tails into the small cabin. I had a moment alone with the boys.

  I asked in a heated whisper, “Tesla, what are you thinking? The Falls?”

  He looked down his nose at me as he responded, by saying, “You ask me about the Falls, when you saddle us with a child? Besides, I saw the dynamite you transferred to Dorian.”

  Drat. Maybe I should chance sleeping with it in Bea's house. But thought better of it, since she'll most likely rob me and kill me in the bargain.

  Tesla wasn't done however, and he continued by saying righteously, “The boy doesn't figure into my plans. As it stands, my plan is part of the greater good. You wanted to know what my plan was? You think I plan to blow up only the Falls? My plan doesn't stop there.

  “I have planned this disturbance so that it will incite the oppressed common man to action for years to come. It will be one that will divert Edison's armies to this very state, leaving the White House on a skeleton crew that will be vulnerable to attack.”

  Then a glint came into his eyes and he concluded by saying, “Are you with me or against me? Are you my comrades or my enemy?” I didn't know whether to applaud or roll my eyes at his grandstanding. His plan seemed a little too simplistic, optimistic, and egomaniacal, but knowing Tesla, he probably wasn't without resources. I suppose greater governments have fallen with less.

  Dorian and I exchanged a look that was full of meaning, yet meant nothing at the same time. He tipped his head towards the wooded lot behind us and said, “Tesla, please excuse us for a moment, Wendy and I need to discuss our future involvement with you at this juncture. We will return directly wi
th the answers you require.” I nodded in agreement.

  Dorian went into the house and explained to Bea that we needed to work off some of the delicious stew. Bea's snort was loud and clear across the forest, and I could have sworn I heard her lewd comment involving us working off something of an entirely indelicate nature. I skewered Tesla with my suspicious stare and asked her, “Can I trust you to not take off with my bag?”

  “Even I know it would be best to leave by daylight in these rough hills, Miss Darling.”

  I turned and saw that Bea was standing in the doorframe. She must have overheard us because she said, “Damn straight, I’ll watch that bag of yours.” Then she smiled at Tesla, who studiously ignored her.

  I removed the rest of my weapons, including the magwhip and my guns from my bag. If Tesla thought that he could just bamboozle both my weapons and my sticks away from me, he has another thing coming. I'll be able to find him even if he gallivanted off into the night with my bag.

  Tesla commented, “You needn't worry about your cargo, Miss Darling, I have friends in all the right places which can provide for my needs.”

  I replied, “I am quite sure that you believe that, Mr. Tesla.”

  “Indeed.”

  Chapter 13

  Fairy Fire

  “Radical change can only be created by radicals.”

  -The Mad Scientist Klausman, for his press release shortly before his firing squad execution, 2208.

  From Dorian's Journal of Memorable Quotes to Live By

  He took my elbow and reluctantly led me deep into the forest, until I could see no hint of light from the campfire. I kept a watchful eye for the Necromancer under the waxing moon. We walked up to a rock facing and followed its face for about five minutes, when Dorian stopped. He cleared some debris from the ground and revealed the mouth of a hidden cave. Dorian then withdrew the pen from his pocket and his small pad of paper. He said, “I'll just light a small light for us.”