Alternating Current: A Tesla Novel (18 page)

Dr. Armaly knew
right away that his rescuer wasn’t with the N.S.A. Once out of the city, they
abandoned the Police Cruiser and set out on foot. “You can take off that fake
mustache and beard now.”

“Is it that
obvious?”

“A little, so what
should I call you? Marco or Rudy?”

“What?”

“I know we haven’t
met, but I recognized your voice.”

“Wow, then call me
Rudy.”

“Well Rudy, I was
expecting you last week.”

“I’m real sorry
about that, how do you know my real name?”

“You’re not the
only one with connections.”

“I’m sorry I
stood you up, but something came up that was beyond my control.”

“Well, I suppose I
could forgive you, especially since you just saved my life. You did just save
my life, didn’t you?”

Rudy didn’t
answer; he kept tapping on his iPhone trying to get a signal.

“How did you know I
was in Boston?”

“A friend called
me. Millard Jones.”

“The M.I.T.
student?”

“That M.I.T.
student is a special agent with the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, well, a
top-secret task force that falls under their jurisdiction. Millard is posing as
a student to investigate Dr. Trump. He was our best chance to figure out the
formula until you stumbled in.”

“Formula? What
formula?”

“Don’t play dumb,
Doc. We’re all looking for the same formula. Dr. Trump, the C.I.A., the N.S.A.,
the K.G.B., the S.D.B., British Petroleum, Exxon-Mobil, O.P.E.C., and God only knows
who else.”

“Wow, I didn’t
know O.P.E.C. was involved.”

“Well, if you
think about it, they stand to lose the most.”

“I never thought
about who would lose, but there’d be so many winners.”

“Yes, if we could
just figure it out.”

“Well, I’ve tried
for years and so has Trump, something’s missing.”

Rudy and the
doctor discussed the formula as they walked along a dusty road somewhere south
of Boston. Rudy checked his iPhone for a signal every few minutes.

“I’ve been over
that formula ten thousand times and I can’t make it work.” The doctor
explained. “It doesn’t make sense, most of Tesla’s notes are clear and
cohesive, but that formula is a huge complication of molecules. If I didn’t
know better I would have thought a child drew it.” Years of frustration with
the concept were obvious.

“Well Doc, what if
I told you there was another copy of the formula in existence?”

Dr. Armaly stopped
walking. “You can’t be serious.”

Rudy nodded his
head.

“How is that
possible?”

Before Rudy could
answer, a car sped by and pulled off the road about a hundred yards ahead of
them. The driver got out and called over to them. “Hurry up and get in before I
leave your ass here.”

Rudy and Dr.
Armaly hustled over to the Lincoln Town Car. Tires squealed and gravel spewed
before their backs had fully pressed against the leather. Dr. Armaly reached
for the seat belt and fastened it in a hurry.

“Relax Doc, Buddy
gets a little carried away sometimes, but he’s a good driver.”

Dr. Armaly wasn’t reassured,
he grabbed the handle above the window and braced for a wild ride.

“What took you so
long?” Rudy asked.

“Well, I thought
it might look funny if I went chasing after the crazy son-of-a-bitch who just
stole a prisoner and a police car. So I sat there slumped down in my seat for
an hour until things calmed down enough to leave unnoticed.” Buddy glanced down
at the dashboard. “Ah shit, we gotta stop for gas. I don’t know why we didn’t
steal a car that got better fuel mileage.”

Dr. Armaly looked
at Rudy.

“He’s kidding,
Doc, we rented the car.”

“Heard any news
about that bitch, Carrie, and her asshole friends?” Buddy asked.

“No, but if you
calm down and be quiet I’ll call her.”

“You can’t call
her, she thinks you’re dead.”

“Shhhh. Dr. Armaly
is gonna call her.”

“Me? Why would I
call her?”

“Because Doc, she
has the other copy of the formula.” Rudy punched in the number and handed him
the iPhone.

Cosmo greeted
Carrie and Phillip as they entered the repair shop. “Phillip, where are your
shoes?”

Phillip let the
remark pass and went over to the counter.

Turbo was on the
phone. “. . . Fine, if you want to be that way, fine . . . and stop fucking
calling me William.” He slammed the receiver onto the hook.

Carrie rushed over
to the counter. “Turbo, we have the trunk.”

Turbo didn’t turn
around right away; he wiped his eyes using his shirtsleeve.

Carrie’s cell
phone rang. “This is Carrie.”

“Uh---hello---Carrie.”

“Who is this?”

“You don’t know
me; my name is Mike Armaly---Dr. Mike Armaly.”

Carrie hesitated. Was
this really Dr. Armaly? How did he get her number? “Dr. Armaly, from the
Bahamas?”

“Yes, that’s
right. Carrie I need to meet with you and your friends. It’s very important.”

“How did you get
my number?”

“That’s not important.
Can we arrange a meeting?”

“This is Agent
Lawson, isn’t it? Quit disguising your voice.”

“No, Carrie,
this is serious. Rudy said to contact you if anything happened to him. He
called
me from Aquaduct and gave me your number.”

“Oh my God, you
are Dr. Armaly. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,
dear. Is there a place we can meet?”

Carrie thought for
a moment. She hadn’t been to work in days, but she still had a key to the
building. “Let’s meet at the Barnes and Noble on 7
^th
avenue in
Brooklyn, tonight at 11, come to the back entrance.”

“I’ll be there,
make sure you bring Phillip and Turbo with you and the formula.”

Carrie hung up the
phone. “He wants to meet us, all of us.”

“Even me?” Cosmo
asked.

“No, not you,
Cosmo. But the rest of us, and he wants us to bring the formula.”

“I don’t know
about that.” Phillip said. “How do we know we can trust him?”

“Rudy trusted him.
He even gave him my phone number.”

“Yeah, but Rudy also
told us not to trust anyone.”

Turbo came from
behind the counter. “Well, I don’t care if we can trust him or not, I say we
meet with him, he’s probably the only person who can explain that stupid
formula in the first place.” Turbo had grown weary of their cause. Maybe it was
the phone call from Maria. Maybe not. Either way, a few answers would be nice.

On the way to
Barnes and Noble, they stopped at the Wal-Mart over in Brooklyn Heights to buy
Phillip a pair of shoes. The old man who greeted everyone tried to stop Phillip
from entering the store barefoot. Turbo intervened and suggested the old man
look the other way. He was in no mood for such nonsense.

Carrie assured the
man that Phillip would soon have shoes.

Turbo ventured
over to the produce section and stood in amazement. He’d never seen anything
like it.

Carrie tugged at
his shirtsleeve to get him moving again. They walked up the main aisle toward
the rear of the store, stopping once or twice for Turbo to absorb it all. “They
got everything here. Now I know why nobody comes to my neighborhood anymore.”

Near the back of
the store, they veered away from the grocery section toward the clothing and
shoe departments.

While Carrie
helped Phillip find shoes his size, Turbo strolled along the aisle admiring all
the shoes. There were so many. Before long, he had wandered two aisles over
from where Phillip tried on a pair of loafers, still marveling at all the shoes
until he reached the sneakers. Hundreds of sneakers, mostly white. He rushed
back over to Carrie and Phillip. “Haven’t you found a pair of shoes yet? It’s
getting late.”

“What do you think
of these?” Phillip raised his foot.

“Those are just
fine.” Turbo didn’t really care much for the loafers. He probably would’ve said
the same thing regardless what shoe Phillip wore, just as long as it wasn’t a
white sneaker. “Now can we get outta here, please?”

Carrie picked up
the empty shoebox and headed to the cash registers. On their way out, Phillip
made sure the Greeter noticed his new shoes.

***

The Barnes and
Noble building was dark. Carrie drove around back and parked in the alley. It
was only 10:30. “I think we should come up with a plan.” She turned around to
look at Turbo.

“What sort of
plan?”

“Well, maybe we
should leave the trunk in the car until---

“Until what?” Turbo
screamed. “Until he pulls out a gun and shoots us. I’m sick of this fucking
formula, I say we just give it to him and go home.”

Phillip had been
quiet until then. “Then what do we do, just wait till those guys in sneakers
come back?”

Turbo sat up in
his seat. “Well, thanks to you, they’re coming for me.”

“Yeah, they already
beat the shit out of me, it’s your turn.”

Turbo grabbed
Phillip by the shirt collar. “Why you---

“Stop it!” Carrie
screamed. “There’s a car coming.”

The car approached
from the other end of the alley with its headlights off. It stopped well in
front of Carrie’s car. Too far ahead to distinguish the occupants. Carrie
flashed the headlights once.

Nothing happened.

Two minutes later,
she flashed the headlights again.

Still nothing.

“This is
bullshit.” Turbo got out of the car. “Armaly is that you? Hey, Armaly.”

The doctor got out
of the car and walked toward them. “You must be Turbo.”

“Yes, I’m Turbo. Good
to meet you.”

Carrie, now out of
the car, suggested they go inside. Phillip followed with the trunk.

Once inside Barnes
and Noble, they made their way through the storeroom and went over to the
reading section of the store where there was a sofa, coffee table, and a few
chairs. Carrie introduced herself and Phillip.

“Dr. Armaly, we’re
so glad to meet you, we’ve been going crazy trying to figure out what to do
since Rudy was killed.”

“Yes, it was quite
unfortunate. I’m sure Rudy was a good man. May I see the formula now?”

“Not so fast,”
Phillip nudged the trunk under his chair, “I’d like a few answers first.”

Turbo agreed.

“Uh, what sort of
answers?”

“Well, I don’t
know, how ‘bout you tell us what this fucking formula really does.”

Carrie suggested
they all remain calm.

“I don’t blame you
for being mad.”

“We’re not really
mad.” Turbo explained. “More like frustrated.”

“Frustrated! You’re
frustrated! I’ve been working on that formula for the past forty years. You
don’t know what it’s like to be frustrated!”

“I still want
answers.” Phillip reached down for the trunk. “No answers. No Formula.” He rose
from the chair.

“No wait, Phillip.
Sit back down. I’ll tell you what I know, but that may not be enough.”

“Oh, thank you,
Doctor.” Carrie inched up to the edge of the sofa.

“The formula is
for Electrostatic Deuterium Oxide, what many call Tesla Water. It’s combustible
water.”

“Combustible
water?” Carrie asked. “How is that possible?”

“Well, it seems
that Turbo’s uncle devised a way to negatively charge ions that molecularly
excite the water. Thus creating an emulsion composed of tiny droplets of the
ion charged water. When the excited water droplets are placed into a combustion
zone and ignited, the charged ions in the water combust.”

“Wow, it makes me
afraid to take a drink.”

“It’s not that
kind of water, Carrie. It’s heavy water.”

“Heavy water?”

“Yes, dear, heavy
water, the kind they use in Nuclear Reactors. D20 has a high heat transfer.”

“Enough about the
heavy water.” Turbo grew impatient. “Get back to the formula.”

“Well it’s real
simple if you think about it, and God knows I’ve been thinking about it for
forty years. Nikola Tesla wanted free energy for everyone. He tried to give the
world free electricity, but Edison, Westinghouse, and J. P. Morgan would never
stand for it. Besides, the public wasn’t ready to embrace large bolts of
electricity flying through the air all around them.”

“I can relate to
that.” Carrie said.

“Yes, Carrie, me
too.” The doctor stood up and looked toward the back of the store.

“What is it
Doctor?” Carrie stood as well.

“I thought I heard
something.”

“You locked the
back door, didn’t you?” Phillip put the trunk back under the chair.

“Yes, I’m sure
it’s nothing, go on Doctor.”

“Well, since the
world wasn’t ready for free electricity, Nikola Tesla decided he would create
an energy source the public would embrace. I mean who’s afraid of a little
water?”

“But it’s heavy
water---

“Stop with the
heavy water already.” Turbo glared at Carrie. “Go on Doctor.”

“He created
Electrostatic Deuterium Oxide. Combustible water that can power just about
anything. Cars, boats, trains, planes, you name it.”

“No wonder
everyone wants it,” Phillip said.

“Yes, everyone
wants it. There’s only problem. It doesn’t work.”

Suddenly a large
shelf full of books tumbled over creating an awful racket.

“C’mon Doc, you
can’t be serious. What do you mean it doesn’t work?” Alex and Mika emerged from
the pile of books, their automatic weapons drawn.

Phillip fidgeted
in the chair. Hopefully his new shoes wouldn’t call attention to what was underneath
the chair.

Carrie was the
first to speak. “How did you know we were here?”

“Carrie, darling,
you always ask the most insightful questions.” She didn’t answer her.

Alex approached
the doctor who was still sitting on the sofa with Carrie, the barrel of the
AK47 level with his head. “Why do you say the formula doesn’t work?” He walked
over to the sofa.

“I’ve tried for
forty years and I can’t get it to work, Professor Trump either.”

“Professor Trump
is dead?”

“Yes, but his son
is still working on it.”

“Not for long,
he’ll be dead soon, too.” Mika aimed her weapon at the doctor.

“Doctor Armaly, I
have some questions about Teleforce?”

“No, Alex, we are
not here to talk about Teleforce.” Mika pushed him away from the sofa and took
over the interrogation. “Tell me Doctor, darling. You were assigned to the
Teleforce Project, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then how was it
that you became so enamored with the Tesla Water?” Her weapon pointed downward
at the Doctor.

“Once the
government realized what they had with Tesla Water, they put everything else on
hold. The Teleforce Project had just gotten started in the United States, but
we diverted all resources to Tesla Water almost immediately. We let the British
take the lead on Teleforce.”

“And they killed
my father.”

Mika turned her
weapon on Alex. “Stop it, now.”

“I’m sorry about
your father, Alex. And the other scientists, too.”

Alex thanked him.

“Listen, Mika,
this is really between you and me. Why don’t you let everyone else go and we’ll
finish it.”

“Oh, Doctor, if it
were only that easy, but enough reminiscing. Young Phillip, would you be kind
and hand me the trunk. Oh, by the way, those shoes are much better than those
old boat shoes you had”

Phillip didn’t
move, but Turbo stood up.

“Turbo, darling, we
are family, don’t make me shoot you. Sit down, please.”

Turbo walked over
and leaned against one of the bookshelves. “Mika, darling, just this past week
my wife took my kids and moved to Florida. Some nameless faceless company wants
to squeeze me out of my building. I think my best friend is dealing drugs. I
drudged through a mile of trash at a dump in Jersey. I saw a man shot to death
at Aquaduct. And they arrested me for his murder. So, if you want to shoot me,
darling, go right ahead.”

“Oh, Turbo, you’ve
had a rough week, I feel sorry for you. And here poor Alex and I have been at
the Ritz all week ordering room service and fucking every night.” She jabbed
the AK47 into his chest. “Sit back down, now.”

“Do what she says,
Turbo.” Phillip stood and walked over to the pile of books that had fallen from
the overturned shelf.

Mika turned toward
him. “Don’t tell me, you’ve had a rough week, too?”

Phillip stood
there in silence. He thought about his Grandmother’s funeral. Yes, he’d had a
rough week, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer. He picked
up a book and turned it so Carrie could see its cover. They both began laughing
aloud.

“This is funny
book no doubt.” Mika, caught off guard, grabbed the book. “Nymph? Why is Nymph
so funny?” She handed the book back to Phillip.

“It’s a long
story, Mika.” Carrie walked over to the pile of books on the floor and sifted
through them until she found a rather large volume. “You see, Mika, that book
has a rather unusual story behind it, and so does this one.”

Mika had a
dumbfounded look on her face, but Carrie wiped it right off using the large
book in her hand. Mika fell to the floor.

Phillip flung
Nymph at Alex who began firing his AK47 aimlessly. Everyone scattered for
cover.

Phillip tried to
grab the trunk, but Carrie pulled him out of the gunfire. They crouched low in
the “Reference” aisle.

Turbo headed for
the front of the store and wound up in the “Inspirational” section of the
bookstore. He said a quick prayer.

Alex stopped
shooting and tried to regain his composure. Mika lay unconscious on the floor.

“Okay, I know you
can hear me so listen up.” He gave Mika a gentle nudge with his boot just to be
certain she was out cold. “First I’d like to thank Carrie for knocking Mika
out, she can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

There wasn’t a
reply.

“I know you’re not
gonna speak ‘cause you think I’ll start shooting at the sound of your voice,
but we all want answers, so we need to talk about it. No shooting, I promise.”

Still, no reply.

“Hey Doctor
Armaly, did you know there was more than one formula for Tesla Water?”

There was a long
pause. “There were a few copies going around, but they were all the same.”

“You really think
so, Doc? What about the formula Phillip has?”

“I don’t know. I
haven’t seen it yet.”

“Well come on out
and let’s take a peek before Mika wakes up.”

“No, Doctor, don’t
do it.” Carrie screamed.

“C’mon, Doc, it’s
the only way to know for sure. Everyone come out, I promise not to shoot
anyone.

Carrie was the
first to emerge from the aisle.

“Anyone else?”

“I’m coming.” Turbo
made his way from the front of the store.

Doctor Armaly and
Phillip joined them. Philip grabbed the trunk and placed it on the coffee table
in front of the sofa. “We’ll have to break the lock; I don’t have the key.”

“That’s not a
problem, stand back.” Alex fired a few rounds at the lock, ripped it from the
clasp, and threw open the trunk lid.

The trunk
overflowed with paper. Newspaper.