Einstein Must Die! (Fate of Nations Book 1) (27 page)

“Jesus!” cried the colonel. “Right on top of us!”

Bertram ran to the elevator shaft, while Tesla yelled at him to get back.

“The elevator platform is here on our level. If we can get it above us, it might shield us from further damage. There’s a counterweight system,” he said, throwing open a panel in the elevator base and digging inside.

Tesla ran for Savannah and Madelaine to pull them away from the open elevator shaft.

Seven floors above them, the force from the zeppelin’s two-ton bomb dug into the computing lab, ripping several tears through the floor, and sending thousand-pound slabs of flooring crashing into the level below.

Level two was Electrical, where Tesla had seen the huge steel and ceramic towers he’d invented. A slab of concrete fell against one of the “Tesla coils,” toppling it like a twenty-foot tree. The device was designed to take current and greatly increase its voltage. At the top of the tower, a conductive steel ball served as an exit point for the electricity. There was no current flowing through the device currently, but the tower itself was a danger, ripping loose thick wiring as it fell. It smashed against a beefy power generator, then slid off, collapsing onto the floor with an ear-assaulting crash.

The force of the fall pressed against a man-sized capacitor, still fully charged from before the blackout. As the storage device was torn from its foundation, it fell over, rolling across the snarl of wiring from the downed coil. Two elements touched, and the capacitor released its energy in a blinding flash. The current roared into the coil, and the voltage quickly shot up until it reached the point of arcing off the coil’s steel ball.

A dazzling snake of lighting leaped from the conductor, sizzling through the air, seeking a path to ground. The coil’s collapse had brought it perilously close to the generator, and its steel fuel tank. The arcing current reached out with tendrils of blinding current that approached the temperature of the sun. The blazing tendrils stroked the fuel tank and ignited the fuel within.

Six hundred gallons of gasoline exploded with a force comparable to the zeppelin’s bomb. The shock wave killed everyone on the floor, and a fireball shot up into level one and broke through into level three below.

The Robotics lab was next to fall. A dozen mechanical creations resembling dogs, birds, and even men were engulfed in the ferocious orange flames. There were only seven workers on the floor at the time, but they were all instantly burned to death, crouching away from the fires.

The structure had been heavily built, and the damage would have settled down at level three, not penetrating deeper. But earlier that day, an anti-gravity experiment had gone awry, sending a heavy steel cannonball punching through the building. Among the damage had been a structural support beam in the floor of level three. It had been cleanly snapped through by the shot, which had sapped much of the cannonball’s energy, so it finally stopped, lodged in the wall nearby. But the damage had been done.

The fuel explosion slammed down into the floor, and with a main beam crippled, the floor gave. A single large split formed in the floor, like a ragged gash running the length of the lab. The wound sagged open, and the weight of the flooring slumped down toward it. Desks, chairs, bookcases, and bodies slid along the slanting floor and fell through the gash into the lab below.

The energy from the fuel explosion raced in all directions, seeking release. Most was directed up and down, but a portion of the force was channeled sideways, into the elevator shaft. As it moved, it collected debris. Chairs, iron rebar, and chunks of concrete were all scooped up and blasted along by the force into the elevator shaft.

At level four, workers dove under their tables, seeking cover from the macabre rain of furniture, debris, and dead coworkers. In seconds the rain stopped. The flooring settled and stopped groaning. A cloud of dust was still hanging in the air, but the worst seemed to be over. Tentatively, they began to pull themselves out and take stock.

Bertram had succeeded in raising the elevator platform two feet when the explosion ran down the shaft. The force crashed down into the platform, now at the height of his belly. A horrible mix of debris was driven down by the explosion, and a fist-sized piece of brick ricocheted off the platform, then punched into Bertram’s chest. Orange flames roared down the shaft, then retreated.

The air in his lungs was pushed out in a single huff, and his hands came up. The world grew hazy. He blinked to clear his vision, but the lab only grew darker.
I never taught Madelaine about the Knight
, he thought.

“I—” he said, then fell sideways, landing hard on his side. He saw Savannah running to him, but before she reached him, his eyes closed.

“Bertram!” she screamed, sliding to her knees beside him. She rolled him onto his back and stifled a sob when she saw the wound. The brick had partially embedded into his chest. He was unconscious, but his chest still rose and fell.

“Savannah—” said Tesla. Something about his tone was off. It carried an undercurrent of panic, even hysteria, she’d never heard from him. The fear of Bertram dying gave way to a new chilling awareness. Her mind told her not to look, but her body acted anyway. She turned back and saw Tesla standing beside Madelaine.

Her daughter stood, unsteady and dazed. A three-foot section of iron rebar stuck out of her belly.

“Mom,” she said, then fell to her knees. Tesla grabbed her shoulders, keeping her from falling forward.

“No!” Savannah screamed. The world fell away. Nothing else existed then, except the sight of her daughter. Madelaine’s eyes were wide, the whites clearly visible in the dusty glow from Beowulf’s lights. Her mouth worked, but no sound came. The wide eyes blinked, slowly.

“Maddy!” yelled Savannah, scrambling along the floor, reaching for her girl. She took Madelaine’s face in her hands, holding her up. “Maddy! Stay awake, honey. Just stay awake!”

The colonel could see what had happened, but felt helpless to assist, even to offer comfort. He stayed silent.

Savannah’s face was flushed and hot, despite the tears running down her cheeks. Together they’d fled a cruel man, crossed an ocean, and made a new home. If God chose to take her this way now, he was a crueler bastard than Thomas had ever been.

Tesla held a hand to his mouth, aghast. The bar had run her clean through, with ten inches of it sticking out her back. He knelt behind her, touched the clothing around the wound, and looked at his fingers. The blood was dark.

He was no medic, but he knew a spleen rupture meant death was all but certain under these circumstances. It meant her blood was no longer being filtered, and that she was bleeding internally at an alarming rate. At her small size, she had minutes to live, if that.

He’d never been religious, not like his father. The concept of asking for desires, rather than working for them, seemed odd. Despite that he willed a silent prayer to any god who may be listening.

Madelaine’s eyes were drooping. She was fighting to stay conscious, but the lure of sleep was wrapping her in a soft, final embrace.

“Love you, Mom,” she whispered.

Savannah was nearing hysterics. She raged with the need to do something, but was impotent to help her daughter. She kissed Madelaine’s cheeks, now going pale, and whispered in her ear. When she pulled back and saw the iron bar puncturing Madelaine’s belly, she shook uncontrollably, mumbling in denial.

A wild, irrational idea came to Tesla then, born of desperation. He eased his grip on Madelaine’s shoulders, letting Savannah take the weight.

“Hold her,” he said. “I have an idea.” He leaped up and ran to his workstation, assembling pieces of hardware together quickly. “OK,” he muttered to himself. “This can work.”

He returned to Savannah. “Help me get her to my table,” he said. Savannah didn’t respond.

“Now, Savannah!” he yelled, shaking her. Her head snapped up, and glassy eyes found his. Barely comprehending, she nodded.

Together they lifted the young girl, Savannah holding her feet and Tesla wrapping his arms under her back. They sat her up on the edge of the table.

“I need to lay her down,” he said. Savannah blinked at him absently. “I need to remove the bar first.”

Savannah’s pretty face turned ugly, and a deep scowl carved into her features.

“There’s no time,” he said. “I’m sorry for this.”

Tesla stood in front of Madelaine and took hold of the bar. As gently as he could, he pulled. The iron bar slid forward an inch, and Madelaine’s eyes popped open wide. She screamed in pain, then vomited.

“Nikola!” yelled Savannah. “Stop!”

Tesla ignored her and pulled again. The bar slid forward, and then it was out of her. Madelaine’s eyes flared wide, then shut. Mercifully, she’d passed out.

She slumped forward. Tesla dropped the bar and caught her in his arms as the bloody iron clattered to the floor.

“What are you doing?” asked Savannah.

“Saving her life.” He laid Madelaine on her back, then picked up the consciousness transfer gear.

“But…we can’t,” said Savannah. “There’s only one RCA.”

“That’s true,” said the colonel, understanding Tesla’s plan. “And I had seventy-two good years. It’s her turn now.”

Savannah was drowning in the storm of emotions and decisions being thrown at her. “I don’t know, I just…” She watched Tesla attach the reader to Madelaine’s unconscious head. “Will this—” she began.

Tesla was running a thick cable to Beowulf and stood on a table to connect it to a socket in the tank’s brain cavity. He nodded once, curtly. “The array can only hold one pattern. This will kill your father. But save your girl.”

On the table, Madelaine’s chest heaved, then fluttered rapidly, hyperventilating.

He jumped down and pointed at her. “There’s no time! Once the spark leaves her brain, we can do nothing!”

Savannah looked at her beautiful daughter sprawled and bloody on the table, then tore her eyes away toward Beowulf, then back again.

Tesla’s hand rested on the switch. “Savannah?” He saw she was barely hanging on, but there was no time for pity.

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded once.

The Colonel’s voice boomed out one last time. “Do it, Tesla. Do it now!”

“Forgive me, Colonel,” he answered. He threw the switch, and Madelaine’s consciousness was copied into Beowulf.

In a flurry of cascading relays, the Colonel was gone.

***

800 FEET ABOVE FORT HAMILTON, NY, USA

Aboard the
Orion
, the bombardier released his final conventional bomb. Watching the explosion through his magnified eyepiece, he thought he saw a secondary explosion caused by the bomb, but couldn’t be sure. Regardless, his role was complete. He called up to the Bridge.

“Bridge, bomb bay. All conventional bombs are released. Standing down.”

“Acknowledged, thank you,” replied Captain Montgomery.

Major Thomas had been explicit in his orders. Full saturation, then stay on station until he had personally surveyed the base. She couldn’t imagine anything was still alive down there. Even eight hundred feet up, she’d heard every detonation. The base had been reduced to dozens of piles of rubble. But if he wanted his confirmation, so be it.

She got on the long-range radio, tuned to the frequency he’d specified, and called for him. In New Haven his radio operator had answered the call, then went to find him.

He was outside, sitting with two other officers beside a campfire, a steaming mug of coffee held in both hands. They’d been trading stories and lies, and having a raucous time of it. He reluctantly set down the coffee when the radio operator approached, carrying the bulky device. He accepted the radio and stood, moving away from the fire.

“This is Major Thomas,” he said.

“Captain Montgomery here, sir. Our run is complete. Standing by for phase two.”

Though he’d stepped away from the fire, hearing the delicious news gave him a warm glow. “Thank you, Captain. And what have you seen?”

She paused. “I saw Fort Hamilton laid to waste, sir.”

“No survivors?”

“We see no evidence of any. The area is completely dead.”

“And no tanks?” he asked.

“Tanks?” She’d not been told of any heavy armor at this base. Regardless, they’d seen none on the move, and if any had existed, they were buried under tons of rubble now. “No, sir, there’s nothing down there now but bricks and dirt. We all agree on that point.”

The major wore a smile like a leather glove. Within him, grim satisfaction mixed with sadistic joy.

“You’ve done well, Captain, and I won’t forget it.”

“I appreciate that, Major. And phase two?”

The major rubbed his chin and mused on that for a moment. Using a radiological bomb would be a highly satisfying nail in the coffin. Like salting an enemy’s fields, preventing anything from growing there again.

But such weapons were extremely valuable. And useful elsewhere. To use one for his own satisfaction would be almost criminal.

And yet, to allow that tank to survive and join the resistance in Boston would be disastrous. It’s even possible such a machine could alter the outcome of the war.

He thumbed the radio’s transmit button. “Captain Montgomery, you are ordered to deliver one radiological bomb on the Fort Hamilton base. You will then set course for Boston. Understood?”

She’d hoped this order wouldn’t come. But she trusted there was a good reason for it.

“Order understood, Major. Phase two will occur in five minutes.
Orion
out.” She turned and saw the bridge crew watching her closely. Everyone aboard knew what those bombs were, at least in theory. None of them had ever seen a nuclear reaction, and now that they had their chance, a sense of nervous apprehension ran through the bridge.

She checked the cloud level. Changing barometric pressure had lifted the level to about 7,300 feet. From her readings about the one-megaton device, she preferred to be higher than that, but they would still be within the safety limit.

“Take us to seven thousand feet,” she ordered.

***

Tesla took his hand from the switch and moved to Savannah, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing. Her legs went slack, and he had to tighten his grip on her to keep her standing. The close physical proximity was difficult, but he pushed aside the thought and focused on Savannah. She was normally strong and unflappable, taking on any situation gracefully. To see her this way pained him, but also bolstered his desire to support her.