Tesla's Revenge

by Renee Sebastian

  Our guide slid a chagrined smile our way and replied, “It is pomegranate juice. They wouldn't let me pour anything stronger, since I do not hold a license.” While anyone could purchase alcohol, even children legally, only those with a license could sell it. Moonshiners were notoriously common, but then again, so were plenty of blind people, too.

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” the father said.

  Dorian glibly commented, “The lady and I will pass, as well.”

  Tesla took his glass, muttering something about wastefulness and being a poor guest. He slugged it down quickly and then promptly secured one of the other glasses that he drank in a more leisurely manner. He toasted us with, “Waste not and all the rest that follows,” and then he took another swig.

  The guide then said, “Well, kind folks, this concludes the tour. We will be ascending now to the top of the Falls and walking back along the famous wooden bridge. The walking bridge spans the entire width of the Falls. It was first built almost two hundred years ago, with only minor repairs since then.

  “Remember, for your safety you must be harnessed into the leash and wear rubber booties that fit over your current shoes for added traction.” The guide then picked up one of the remaining glasses and sloshed the drink down. Out we followed, back to the leaden skies and whatever fate had in store for us.

  ···•Ͽ Ѡ Ͼ•···

  The light was quite bright in contrast to the tunnels as we walked back to the main area, across the man-made bridge. The bridge was of a raw wood, plank style-bridge, with a rope railing suspended by magsteel wires, which likened it to a bastardized type of suspension bridge. If this was a brick and mortar type of bridge, and if we had to use it for our escape route, then I would be abandoning this mission. This bridge was just flexible enough to perhaps withstand a few rounds of explosives if it didn't catch on fire first.

  I looked down studying the water as it traversed over the summit to crash at the bottom with a thunderous effect. While speaking was impossible, I was able to manage hand gestures as we noted areas where the water didn't flow over the edge in a smooth line, especially one small service hole that did not have any water flowing over it at all on the wall below us. I needed to check the map Tesla had, because a feeling of dread had settled over me. I believed that in order to make his plan come to fruition, one us may have to be lowered into that hole to set a stick, in order to make the blast work.

  After stepping off the rope bridge and removing the gear, we were informed that the park would be closing in thirty minutes. Our group divided away from the family, who were heading for the exit, while ours sought an area of seclusion. We found it on an overlook of the basin, en route to the location on the map where my bag was indicated to be.

  “I don't like this one bit,” I stated furiously.

  “Show us the map Tesla,” Dorian spat out.

  Tesla sneered, “Whatever do you mean?”

  “What are the locations for the sticks to be placed?” I asked.

  “Here, look for yourselves.” He withdrew the Estonian's map and handed it over to me. I studied it, pointing to the suspicious hole. I told Dorian, “No access tunnel here, only the exterior hole. It has to be manually placed inside or no boom.”

  Dorian countered, “Could you lower me via a rope, and then I could place it in the hole?”

  “No,” I countered. “It has to be secured deep inside that hole, and it looks too small and unstable to sustain your weight, let alone your height. This is not going to work.”

  Tesla said, “So the boy does it. It was probably set up for children workers anyway hundreds of years ago, once zombie labor was outlawed. You did say that he would prove useful to us back in the townhouse.”

  Jeremy blanched, but had the courtesy to not utter a single word of criticism. Looked like his mother had taught him some manners after all. Now, if I could only get him to chew his gum with his mouth shut.

  I laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “I would never have left you under their care Jeremy. I've had occasions where I have met with Estonians in the past, but never a more suspicious lot than they were.”

  “Those people are not evil,” Tesla tried to rebuke, but then he smiled and said, “Alright, perhaps a little evil.” I bet he was thinking about pig's blood. “I apologize for any offense taken, but the fact remains that we still need someone small enough to fit in that hole. Are you up for a little adventuring son?”

  Jeremy looked resigned when he said, “After a leviathan, anythin' seems poorly by comparison. Too bad there be not a one dead critter in sight that I could commandeer to climb into that little hidey hole, but they would just as likely slip and fall to the bottom even if'n I could.” I did not mention that there was certainly the magically imbued, burglar security system, which was the likely cause for not being able to spot a single animal in the park. It was a nice little spell, I had to admit. No cockroaches were always good in my book.

  It looked like our course was set, but I did not have to like it. Not one bit.

  ···•Ͽ Ѡ Ͼ•···

  We made it to the rendezvous point, the ranger station. Mr. Chatham was just locking up. I observed that he was leaving early for a late shift. Smart man. Even if I could have chosen to leave early, I wouldn't. Pass up a chance to see the big bang? Never.

  Before I could, Dorian asked, “Before you leave, we need two lengths of your strongest rope. No magrope, however.”

  “We don't keep magrope, since it doesn't work so well over the water. I think that I might just have some inch width rope, one twenty feet and the other forty. Will those work? It's not like anyone will miss it when this station is swept away, huh?” he jeered and finished with a sickly laugh.

  Dorian grimaced and said, “Both please.”

  Mr. Chatham returned with the retrieved the rope. Dorian slung each across his shoulders. “Thanks.”

  He then tried to hand my bag over to Tesla, but I intervened and took it before it ever reached his hands. Mr. Chatham said, “Didn't figure you for a reader. Kafka?”

  He had the audacity to look through my bag. How asinine of him. I replied, “I didn't figure you could read at all.”

  The ranger snorted in return and said, “Follow me and I'll show you your ticket out of here. This better be worth what the Estonians promised me in return.” I very much doubted that.

  He then turned in the direction towards the entrance, without waiting to see if we followed him. I walked up to Dorian and fingered the rope, examining it for any mendings. I could see that the rope was made of a fine grade of hemp and was indeed a good inch thick. It smelled of lamp oil, probably made in one of the nearby fishing communities. There were no knots or repairs that I could see. So this was probably purchased for emergencies and was never used. I approved of the rope. The twenty-foot length would be perfect for Jeremy, but what of the longer second length?

  Dorian seemed to understand my confusion and replied, “Never invest your life on merely one length alone. I've learned that the hard way.”

  While the second length may or may not wind up being utilized, it was extra weight. If Dorian was willing to carry it, so be it. I turned my direction to following Tesla, who was quite a ways ahead of us, hot on the trail of the ranger.

  ···•Ͽ Ѡ Ͼ•···

  We wound up following him to the escape tunnel, which was in actuality merely a boarded up and discarded service tunnel, that led through a cavern near the main observation deck. I marked the map, so we could find it again later. It seemed sufficiently far and high enough that the Estonians were correct in concluding that it should not be compromised by the explosion. The park was closed and the security system was up, but Mr. Chatham explained how this was such an antiquated access tunnel that it was excluded from the security circle. We should be safe taking it after the boom, since it wouldn't be monitored. I was counting on the promised transportation, or I might have to add the Teslian Estonian Society to my personal hit list. Certainly, they would
n't double cross Tesla, their friend and associate, would they?

  We bid him adieu and then we walked back to the entrance of the tourist tunnels. Best to get the easier ones placed before setting the difficult one outside the falls. Once Jeremy was done setting the last one, we could detonate it and be on our way.

  I opened up the carpetbag and removed the first stick. It was a thing of beauty. Seven inches of tempered uranium ore that could only be handled with special gloves, which was no problem for me, what with my gloves not only made of the finest kid leather, but also cored with the radioactive-free lining. They were of the finest quality that one could buy.

  Within the tube was a liquid mercurial core, in which a magically enhanced detonator was placed and could be programmed in sequence to go off in conjunction with others. The detonator itself had to be inserted into the posterior end of the stick and after a delicate turn of the mechanical numbers - voila, you have a stick that would go off in any desired sequence and time, as determined by the person holding the detonator.

  Within the stick was the real magic. There were several sections within the mercury outer chamber. The one at the top held the highest grade of black gunpowder. At the bottom of the cylinder was nitroglycerin, which was mostly used as an accelerator compared to the quantities and potency of the other ingredients. In the middle was a substance known as the Powder of the Wizards, or POW, which was the most virile explosive of the batch. It was coined after the Civil War when it was developed and used by Geomancers, who spent their entire lives developing new magical chemicals.

  Most Geomancers were picked up by the top chemical companies, but they were only hired contractors because everyone knew that the only loyalty a Geomancers had was for the Geomancers Guild. They were the only government-sanctioned, union-operated User organization within the Republic. Where S.O.A.R. was accommodating to their agent’s sundry schedules, the Guild was not.

  I checked the contents of the bag. From the original dozen-sticks, we were left only six. Mr. Chatham must have taken the other six. He left a note that he claims he was instructed to leave by the Estonians. He stated that he was ordered to take the other six, as only the six were required according to the schemata that they had left. While this was enough to do the job, they had left none for contingencies though. They kept the rest for themselves, greedy scalawags.

  Each stick had to be set at the predetermined locations in the tunnel, which was now eerily lit with only emergency light bulbs hung along a solitary wire along the length of the tunnel. I went over to the first side tunnel, removed the sticky tape protector on the stick, and pushed it onto the wall. I then took the detonator key and inserted it into its business end of the stick. With a practiced twist, I slowly turned it to the desired clicks. Then we were off to the next four tunnels. I made Jeremy watch me each time so that I could observe him set the next to last one.

  Once we finished setting the five in near silence, we left the tunnels. Tesla made his own version of small talk when he informed us, “The hydroelectric power plant at the base of these falls is of my own design. I get a perverse thrill out of destroying something that Edison’s descendants have been benefiting from.”

  Dorian replied solemnly, “Tesla what are your plans exactly, if we successfully crush the White House?”

  He smiled wistfully, “I've thought about it. I've always wanted to visit the Piazza San Pietro in Rome. There are many pigeons that visit there, I understand.”

  Dorian said, “Indeed there are.”

  I turned to Jeremy and asked him one last time, “Are you sure you can do this. I could try to set it from as close to a location as possible from inside the tunnel.”

  “No ma’am, we both know it's me or nothin'. I figure that it'll be somethin' I'll never forget at the very least. So let's do this thing, so I don't have to keep frettin' over it.”

  Dorian said, “I'll be holding the rope.”

  “Me too,” I add.

  “I as well,” Tesla added. Dorian stared at him, until he also said, “I don't want the lad to die, if I can do something to prevent it.”

  I nodded in understanding. No one with an ounce of integrity would want any child to die, as precious as they were, even if Jeremy hadn't been a Necromancer.

  Once outside, we moved towards the bridge. There were three lights lit for safety, even though no one was supposed to be on it at this time of night. The little islands of light however did not make me feel any safer when we walked under them, because they casted everyone’s countenance with a sinister intensity that made me doubt our purpose here this night. None too soon, we made it to the location for the last magstick.

  Dorian tied the sailors' knots around Jeremy's torso, and before long, he was standing at the ledge looking below. I handed him the detonator and then yelled at the top of my lungs, “I'm sure your mother would be proud of you!”

  Jeremy leaned in to speak in my ear. He replied, “My Ma would tan my hide if she knew I was doing anythin' like this.” Then he smiled a pirate smile and added, “Better do this thing now before she ever finds out.” Wearing one of my gloves for holding and setting the stick, he gingerly stepped over the ledge. The rope grew tight with Dorian taking the worst of it, and we slowly lowered Jeremy down over the side of the waterfall.

  After about a minute, Dorian said, “He's there. Hold on tight.” I saw that the rope had begun to swing, then the give in the rope released, and I knew that he was in the access hole. I waited patiently while I gripped the rope tightly, waiting for the moment that the tautness would return, so I would know that Jeremy was on his way up.

  It seemed like we were all holding a collective breath, until I heard a gunshot followed by Tesla cursing. I looked back and saw that even though he still maintained his grip on the rope, it was severed from the part I still held. The rope had been divided by a bullet. Dorian and I still held onto the part attached to Jeremy. Then all hell broke loose as the explosives ignited below us, and the Falls exploded out from underneath the bridge. The gunshot must have spooked Jeremy in the hole and his hand must have accidentally detonated the previously set bombs. Fortunately, he must not have set the bomb in the hole he was in yet or the precarious section of the wall that was still standing would have blown away with the rest of the chunks of rock.

  The sound grew to deafening proportions as I kept my death grip on the rope and peered over the edge to see if Jeremy's hole had blown up with him still in it. I could tell that the part of the wall still supporting this section of the Falls with Jeremy was about to collapse with or without the magstick. Water began pouring over the ledge, making it unpassable. I desperately started to pull at my end of the rope, but it never caught in my grip, it remained loose. The end that was attached to Jeremy slipped all too quickly into Dorian's grip. Jeremy was somehow now separated from the rope. Either he was trapped in the hole or he had fallen into the Tsunami that was now cascading over the remaining bit of the dam that remained.

  I grabbed the longer coil of rope slung over Dorian's shoulder, intent on tying it about my waist to make a go of saving Jeremy myself, if he were still in the hole in the wall. But Dorian grabbed me in return. It turned into a crazy embrace, as he yelled into my ear, “Not this time!”

  He turned and tied one end to the railing, and then he wrapped one end around his hand. He then did the impossible: He climbed down the rope while thousands of pounds of water pressure roared over him. My only reassurance that everything was as it should be was that the rope kept its tautness and stayed attached to the railing. I laid my hands upon it and my thoughts turned morbid. It was as if my own life was dependent upon this rope also. I did not like this dreadful feeling.

  I turned back to Tesla, who was cradling his hand. I yelled, “What happened!” He must have read my lips, because he definitely could not have heard me over the din. He leveled me an exasperated expression as he pointed with his good hand over to the horizon.

  Following his finger, I saw a silhouetted figure j
ust outside of the lights on the landing where the bridge ended. There was a man with a gun who was surrounded by five shambling and stooped figures. They were shuffling about, as if they couldn't stop moving. Not having good control over your creations was very bad for a Necromancer. It made the whole situation so much more terrible and unpredictable.

  The Necromancer stepped back into a halo of light and it became apparent that it was Jasper Jackson, the Secretary of State. He smiled a toothy grin, saluted us, and then ran for our emergency exit. His creatures stayed behind blocking our path but they did not cross onto the bridge. Maybe it was the running water that frightened them, or maybe they had their directions to block the exit. Who knew, but I was thankful for one less distraction at the moment. I’ll deal with them in a moment.

  I motioned with my two fingers for Tesla to maintain eye contact with the zombies. Lucky for us, nothing the Necromancer left behind had anything close to an erect enough posture for it to be a deader. Thank goodness, but I still needed to be on guard, as one just couldn't be too careful around the undead.

  Then I shifted my attention to the rope. I bit off my other glove and allowed my hand to come in contact with the rope. I wanted to feel any movement, no matter how remote it might have been.

  A minute went by with no change to the rope. I glanced over at the zombies. No change there either. The water must be what was spooking them.

  Another minute ticked away. I glanced over to Tesla, who was still cradling his hand. He held it up and saw a particularly vicious rope burn, but no bullet hole and especially nothing that a little time wouldn't heal right up. I wondered briefly about his immortal healing capacities, which were probably limited by the lack of his confiscated electrical apparatus.

  I checked the rope again, feeling entirely out of sorts. It made me extremely discomforted. This was why I didn't socialize with others. Feelings just complicated things. I kept my grip on the rope. It grew stiffer. I checked the knot and it seemed firm, but still no change.