Einstein Must Die! (Fate of Nations Book 1) (7 page)

Tesla hoisted a heavy pickax and drove it down into the packed earth, chipping loose a chunk of wet clay. He straightened and repeated the process. The morning air was cold, but beads of sweat formed on his brow. He was unaccustomed to hard physical labor, and the muscles of his lower back spasmed. He reached back and massaged them, surveying his surroundings. Before and behind him, a line of twenty men performed similar labor. They toiled in the wet ditch, five feet deep, opening a channel for the city to lay cables.

Edison’s threat had been no idle display. For days Tesla spoke to financiers about his designs, or for simple work as an engineer. But repeatedly, he found doors closed to him, shut fast by Edison’s whispered mentions of the inventor’s rashness and inability to work with others. With his savings depleted, and hunger becoming a distraction, he had little choice but to accept what work he could.

Tomorrow was his deadline with Mrs. Harrison, but he pushed the unhappy thought from his mind. The city foreman was approaching, leading a horse-drawn cart carrying a huge coil of black cabling. He directed the cart near the open ditch and addressed his workers.

“All right, you men, that’s deep enough. Sanders, take the end of this cable, and feed it into the channel.”

Sanders found the end and played the cable out. The large reel was suspended on a central rod, and it spun easily. Tesla and the other men set their tools down and reached up for the heavy cable, laying it down at their feet.

A white logo was printed every so often, and Tesla turned his head to read it. The design read “Edison Electrical Company.”

Tesla stared at the mocking logo resting against his wet, mud-caked work boots. In his mind he was back at Edison’s home, being dismissed, dripping water on the man’s rug. He closed his eyes. How did things turn out this way?
 

“God has a cruel sense of humor,” he muttered.

“Does he now?” a soft, feminine voice replied in a lilting Southern accent.

Tesla’s eyes snapped open and he startled, momentarily wondering if the Creator had answered him.
 

He looked up and saw a young, pretty woman standing above him. Her elegant, floral-patterned dress fluttered in the cool breeze, and the sun was behind her shoulder, casting her long blonde hair in a glowing, halo-like effect.

“I’m Savannah Browning,” she said, reaching her hand down to him. “Come along, Mr. Tesla. We have exciting matters to discuss.”

He hesitated, struck by the sudden shift in tone his morning was taking. Then he placed his hand in hers, and she helped him clamber out of the ditch.

Tesla joined her for a ride in her motorcar, and found he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she drove through the city streets.

“Who
are
you?” he asked.

She laughed, a light, musical laugh that made him feel good, despite his confusion.

“I told you,” she said, steering around a pothole. “Savannah Browning. My father is Colonel Browning, the military strategist?” Her Southern accent rose and fell in a charming cadence.

Tesla shook his head, not knowing the name.
 

“Well, you’ll meet him soon enough. I’m taking you to Fort Hamilton.”

“The army base?”

“That’s the one.”

She wove the car around a slow carriage and accelerated. “Be there in an hour.”

“What does the army want with me?”

She turned toward him and looked into his eyes long enough that he grew worried for their safety.

“War is coming, Mr. Tesla. I think you and the army might just need each other.”
 

She turned her attention back to the road, and Tesla settled back into his seat, content to rest his back before exploring the next twist in his fortunes.

Savannah drove them to the main gate at Fort Hamilton. A long line of cars waited to be inspected, but Savannah steered around them and drove to the front of the line. The military police waved her through on sight. Tesla cast a sideways glance at the woman, but she said nothing.
 

She led them through the military base, and they soon came to a stop outside a sprawling complex of low, gray cinderblock buildings.

“Well, here we are,” she announced, stepping out of the car.

He looked around. The buildings were all large, but nondescript. In yellow stenciled block letters, a small sign read “Auxiliary Operations.”

“And this would be…?” Tesla asked.

“Where the magic happens!” She beamed and ran for the wide double doors. “I simply cannot wait to see your face.”

He caught up to her and followed her into the building. They passed two armed soldiers standing at attention as she led him down a corridor. Ornately framed portraits of military figures watched impassively as he followed Savannah.

“We have a lot of really smart people here, but I think you will fit in particularly well,” she said. They turned a corner and came to a wide, steel door, flanked by two more armed guards. They nodded at Savannah as she approached.

She rested her hand on the doorknob. She paused, then turned back to Tesla. “Are you ready?” Her high-wattage smile gave away her anticipation.

“You
are
a spirited woman.” Tesla had no idea what lay behind the steel door, but he now very much wanted to step through and see.

“Thanks!” She laughed. “Now come on. The Rabbit Hole awaits.” She opened the door, and Tesla followed her inside.

They stepped into the room, and Tesla stopped short. There was nothing inside but a small ramp leading up to a circular platform in the center of the room. Just inside the platform, a small panel extended from the floor to waist height, and Tesla saw the blinking of indicator lights and a metal throw switch.

Savannah strolled up the ramp and stepped on the platform, waving him to follow her.

“You’re in the army’s research and development lab, Mr. Tesla.”
 

He joined her on the circular platform. “Please, call me Nikola. But I thought that was in Maryland. The Aberdeen Proving Grounds.”

Savannah smiled. “That’s where the meat and potatoes work gets done, yes.” She rested a slender hand on the throw switch. “But here we focus on more… unbridled creativity.”

She pulled the switch toward her, and an electric hum rose from beneath them. The floor vibrated, and Tesla looked at his guide in concern.
 

Then the platform sank into the ground. Like an open-air elevator, the floor descended, carrying them with it. They sank lower, the walls of a carved concrete shaft rising around them.
 

“My God,” whispered Tesla, reaching out to let his fingertips run along the shaft wall. As they continued down, the rough stone tickled his fingers, confirming he wasn’t dreaming.

He turned and found Savannah studying his face, which was agape in delight and awe.
 

“Lovely,” she said.

“This is amazing. So, we are traveling to an underground workshop then.”

She nodded. “Seven of them, actually.”

His eyes went wide, and she chuckled.
 

“Damn, I love showing this place off. We have seven labs, each on its own floor. We’re doing work on everything here, Nikola. Electricity, robotics, atomic theory, exotic munitions, computing, even the nature of light and gravity. For someone with your talents, it’s a playground.”

Tesla was speechless as he struggled to catch up with the news. All his life, he’d taught himself. Years of solitary, quiet study in libraries had been difficult, but had fueled his inventive spirit. The thought of such advanced collaboration was heady.

“No words, hmm? I hear that doesn’t happen to you so often,” she said, chiding him.

“It really is… incredible,” he admitted.

“Just you wait.”

As the platform descended, a wide slit of light appeared in front of them, then grew taller. He realized they were arriving at the first of the lab’s levels. As they continued, he got a view of the activities going on. Multiple long rows of metal cabinets lined the room, each with a face of blinking lights. Technicians milled about, tending to the humming machines. He recognized the devices as computers, but on a vastly larger scale than he’d ever imagined existed.

“This is Herman Hollerith’s lab. Computing,” she said as they continued. “He’s doing incredible work on machines that can think faster than a human.”

 
They continued down, and the lab disappeared, replaced by the blank wall of the shaft again.

“I am fascinated by computers!” he told her. “In fact, I have a working prototype of a mechanical brain!”

“So you have it working now?” she asked. “That’s very, very good. We’ve been following your work, Nikola. That’s why you’ve been invited here today.”

Before he could respond, a second level appeared before them. He stepped forward to the edge of the platform for a better look.

He instantly recognized huge electrical generators. A wide circuit switchboard covered one wall. Metal and ceramic towers rose above the researchers. Then, with a startling roar, a spider web of lightning branched from one tower to the other. The unmistakable smell of ozone reminded him of his own lab.

He turned to her, his face aglow. “Those are my coils! I designed those!”

“Yes, you did. We just scaled the design up a bit. They’re a favorite of the staff, I can tell you.”

They continued lower, and each level gave a tantalizing slice of fantastic technology, the sort Tesla had never before seen, even in his most fevered dreams. Everywhere, men and women in uniforms and lab coats were dealing with ideas made real.
 

He saw an atomic reactor, large-scale chemical experiments, solid shafts of light burning through steel plates, even a test subject floating in midair. At one point, he swore he saw a mechanical man walking haltingly toward an encouraging researcher, like a mother would beckon her child.

“And here, we are, level seven,” she announced. The final level opened before them, and he saw this level was much taller than the others, perhaps sixty feet, and the sounds of sparking metalworking were loud even from this distance. Like the other levels, technicians and military observers milled about in groups, some in front of large blackboards filled with equations. But the centerpiece of the vast room caught his attention and didn’t let go.
 

On a slightly raised platform was a steel tank, bigger than most houses. It rested on twin treads, which rose a good two feet taller than the workers standing beside them. The main body was a dull steel-gray, like a sloped pyramid with the top sliced away. Housing the treads, the base was wide, thick, and imposing. A dozen weapon barrels were visible, tucked back within recessed ports. The midsection was a rotating turret carrying the main cannon, and the apex of the beast bristled with various antennae, sensors, and smaller weapons.

“What a monster,” Tesla exclaimed, his eyes taking in every detail. He wanted to believe that such a force of destruction didn’t exist, that men would never put their energies into such a machine. But the sheer audacity of the thing was impressive, he had to admit.

The elevator settled on the lab’s floor and stopped.
 

“This is it,” she said, stepping off and leading him toward the tank. “It’s a bit to take in, I know. Hey, Sophia,” she said, waving to an attractive brunette.

“This your boy?” Sophia asked.
 

“We’ll see.”

Sophia smiled. “Well, good luck!” she said, joining a group of officers.

He followed Savannah through the lab, and they grew closer to the intimidating machine. Several men and women in military uniforms and lab coats walked in and out of banks of computers, worktables, and cordoned areas with smaller machinery within. The smell of oil and diesel mixed with the chatter of excited voices and arc welding.

As they neared the tank’s treads, Tesla felt small. A tickling chill of vulnerability ran between his shoulder blades. He craned his neck to look up at the machine of death looming over them. In his mind an image flashed and persisted, a newborn babe staring up at a well-muscled lion.

Savannah turned and waved her hand at the monstrosity.

“Nikola, meet Beowulf,” Savannah said.

“I’m… glad it’s on our side.”

Deep laughter boomed from behind him, and Tesla turned. A tall, barrel-chested man in blue uniform and medals was approaching, all smiles. “Damn right,” the man said. “I bet the first Crowns to come face to face with Beowulf will soil their linen britches!”

 
“General, please,” Savannah said.

“General Sam Houston,” said the man, grabbing Tesla’s hand in a vise grip. “I’m the base commander.”

Tesla squirmed as he always did when politeness required him to shake hands with someone, but the general’s grip was tight, so he forced a smile and waited for his hand to be released.

“Savannah has told us a lot about you, Mr. Tesla. We’re excited to have you.” He broke the handshake and studied the inventor with intense blue eyes. Tesla thought the man belonged in a painting, riding a horse into battle, sword drawn and yelling a battle cry.

“A pleasure, General,” he replied, grateful when he got his hand back. “But I’m still not sure of the details for my visit here today.”

“Sure, sure,” the general said, clapping him hard against the shoulder. “Savannah is our civilian liaison, so she’s the one to bring you up to speed. I have a meeting topside, but I’m sure we’ll catch up again soon.” He turned and headed for the elevator.

“Thank you, General,” Tesla called after him, then looked at Savannah. “We have much to discuss, I assume.”

“Do we ever. First, the basics.” She began a slow walk around the tank.
 
“Beowulf is a coal-fed, steam-powered, autonomous tank. It has an eight hundred and thirty horsepower engine, driving twin treads of woven steel.”

“Did you say autonomous?”

She raised a hand. “We’ll get to that in a second.” She pointed to the recessed ports above the treads. “Anti-personnel shredders. Lethal out to three hundred feet. Up above, the main cannon fires eleven-inch shells. Behind that, twin mortar tubes. The upper tower holds sensors, multiple frequencies. From visible light to infrared. Also, radio antennas for the two- and six-meter bands.”