Einstein Must Die! (Fate of Nations Book 1) (33 page)

“That was awesome!” said Madelaine.

Savannah fell against Tesla, laughing uncontrollably as she pounded his chest. “Yes, it was. Good shooting, my baby!”

With Savannah laughing against him, Tesla felt lighter and happier than he had in weeks. As he searched his feelings, he realized he also felt very fortunate.

“I’m happy to be here. Thank you, Savannah,” he said, pulling a length of grape stems from her long blonde hair, and offering it to her with a grin.

She reached up to his hair and showed him the orange peel he’d been wearing.

“My pleasure,” she replied.

***

27 MILES SOUTH OF BOSTON, MA, USA

Colonel Thomas sat high on his black stallion, enjoying the repetitive motion of the horse’s gait.
Colonel. That’s going to take some time to sink in
. The promotion was a genuine shock, and he’d been signing things as a major ever since. He ran a finger over the new insignia. There was a time not too distant when he’d thought making colonel was impossible.

He twisted in his saddle and surveyed the men behind him. Twin columns of fine British soldiers, 4,200 strong. And he rode at the brigade’s helm. With these men he would claim the city of Boston and secure its port.

With that beachhead opened, the huge ships waiting off the US coast could land and off-load massive reinforcements and supplies. He wondered if perhaps he would be appointed mayor of the conquered city, once things stabilized.

Riding beside him, Captain Fitzwallace checked the sun, then looked at his timepiece. “Making good time. We should be outside the city by sunset, Colonel.”

He nodded. A few minor skirmishes had slowed them somewhat, but that was to be expected. He had detached a company of four hundred to harass the American resistance, so the main force could press on at speed. Hopefully, they would catch up by tonight.

“Forgive me if this is impertinent, Colonel, but is this mission difficult for you?” asked Captain Fitzwallace.

The colonel had grown reluctantly resigned to others knowing his personal business. The bombshell of his marriage to a spy was an explosion heard around the empire.

“It’s all right, Captain. In fact, it’s a fair question to ask.” Swaying with the horse’s walk, he considered his next words.

“The distance of time has made it easier than it was before. But betrayal is never easy, or forgotten.”

“You have a reputation for hatred of the Americans,” Fitzwallace said, studying his colonel’s face.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate what they’ve accomplished. These people came to a wild, untamed land and brought the first steps toward civilization. There’s a certain majesty in that, honestly. But they’re also deceitful, without any sense of loyalty. If it served their ends, they would betray anyone in their way. Mark my words on that.”

“I understand, Colonel. Thank you for the clarification.”

Colonel Thomas nodded curtly, once. The discussion had churned emotions best left settled, and his mood had soured.

“Not at all, Captain,” he replied. “Say, I believe it’s time to run the line. Good for morale, you know.”

The captain smiled, knowing he was being mildly sent away. “Yes, sir. Was just about to suggest it myself.”

He swung his horse around and trotted back down the long line of marching soldiers, letting them see that he was checking on them. It would take a half hour to make the full trip to the end of the line and back again.

By then he was confident the colonel would be in better spirits again, and all would be forgotten.

***

Sophia had organized their technical manuals into a small field library, with the books arranged over two wide tables.

“OK, the manuals are all set. I’m going to visit the little girl’s room.”

“Right,” said George. “Nice work.”

She turned and left, her high heels clicking and echoing in the huge room. He watched her walk away, then turned back to the disassembled camera laid out in pieces on his worktable.

“He’s shtooping her,” Madelaine whispered to Tesla.

“Shtooping, hmm? How do you know that?” Tesla asked as he mopped fruit remnants off the floor.

“It’s obvious. My infrared picks up his cheek flush whenever she’s close to him.”

He turned to look at George, oblivious to their conversation and busy rewiring the camera’s output.

“Perhaps he just fancies her? She
is
an attractive woman.”

“And three times now, when she goes to the restroom, he leaves the room within three minutes.“

“Oh? Well, that’s just coinci—”

Madelaine continued. “The women’s restroom nearest us has a loose water pipe in the corner. Two minutes after he follows her, my seismic sensors register a rhythmic pounding from that direction. At about one-point-three strokes per second, which is typical for human copula—”

“OK, I get it.”

“I’m just saying. Interesting data.”

“Uh-huh.” Tesla picked up his clipboard and flipped through the pages. “It looks like we’re in good shape, Maddy. You’re all checked out to return to the field.”

“Good. Now we just need to know where and when, right?”

“I’m sure the general will let Savannah know when he’s ready for us. Patience.”

“Easy for you to say. My brain is so much faster now, this waiting is torture.”

Tesla thought about that. It’s true that she was experiencing the world hundreds of times faster than any human. What would the long-term effects of that be? Tesla had no idea.

“I don’t know if you’d want to, but there is one possible solution to the waiting,” he told her.

“Yeah? Tell me!”

“The RCA could be placed in a ‘warm shutdown’ mode. The array would remain powered, but no signals would be allowed to move through the array. Your thoughts would freeze in place. Essentially, you would go to sleep until I woke you.”

“I don’t know…sounds kinda scary.”

“I agree. I wouldn’t want anyone controlling my brain either. But it is an option if you want it.”

“I’ll think about it, but the waiting doesn’t sound so bad now.”

“As you wish, my dear.”

Behind them George set down the camera assembly and headed for the exit.

“Calling it a day?” asked Madelaine.

“Hmm? Oh no,” said George, still walking. “Just a quick break. Be back in a few.”

Tesla watched him leave, waiting for the comment he knew was coming.

“Told ya,” said Madelaine. “Shtooping.”

***

BOSTON, MA, USA

“Well, their obvious approach would be from the south,” said Boston Mayor John Fitzgerald, pointing at the large city map laid out on his desk.

General Houston and his staff were crowded around the large mahogany desk. With time short, it made sense to take advantage of the local knowledge the mayor possessed. His affable wit and warmth of character had earned him the nickname “Honey Fitz.” He was also the only politician who could sing “Sweet Adeline” sober and get away with it.

Leaning over and studying the map, the general was thankful for the city’s geography. The downtown core was surrounded by the Charles River on three sides. If the British wanted to enter the city without crossing a bridge, they would have to approach from the south.

The deepwater port that made this city such a vital target for the British was just to the east of downtown. He knew the British already had a dozen large ships waiting not ten miles off the coast, in Massachusetts Bay. Each loaded with soldiers and supplies, no doubt.

Previous battles had whittled Boston’s navy fleet down to the point where cannons and shore batteries were keeping those ships at bay for now. But if the British got in the city and removed that obstacle, all would be lost. Whatever happened, those ships must never reach the port.

He traced his finger from the city’s downtown core to the three main outer bridges that spanned the river.

“What can you tell us about these bridges, Mayor?”

“Right, well, farthest north you see the Charlestown Bridge. First bridge built in Boston, actually. Replaced a ferry that had been there since 1630. Anyway, it’s not very wide. Would take awhile to get an army across it.”

“OK,” said the general. He ran his finger south on the map to the next bridge. “And the…Charles River Dam Bridge?” he asked, craning his neck to read the small lettering.

“That will be a better choice, but it’s not completed yet.”

“No way to get across?”

The mayor shook his head. “Not currently. In five months, yes, but not now.”

“OK, good.”

The mayor pointed out the southern bridge. “This is another possibility. The Longfellow Bridge. A hundred and five feet wide.”

“So two bridges we need to cover,” summed up the general. “Now, as for the land assault, I’m thinking we establish our perimeter here,” he said, indicating a spot just south of the Boston Common. “We draw our line down along Arlington Street and over to the east along Essex Street.”

Boston Common was a wide rectangular park, originally used for cow grazing and later public hangings, but after 1817 it was converted into a city park with a broad lake in the center.

“So you’ll have the Common open behind your front line?” asked the mayor.

“Exactly. The park is wide open, giving us a lot of room to easily move men and supplies around, right behind the line. The British won’t have that advantage. They’ll need to flow around the city blocks, making their coordination harder. And as a bonus, we get the fresh water from the park’s lake, simplifying our resupply issues even more.”

The general’s staff nodded in agreement.

He turned to his supply sergeant. “What can we give the mayor, in terms of arms?”

“You’re thinking of supplying the police force with rifles?”

“I certainly am, yes.”

“We could spare four hundred, maybe five hundred rifles for them, General.”

“That’ll do. John,” he said, turning to the mayor, “my men will handle the bridges and the flanks of the southern exposure. I’d like your police to fill in the middle, at Chinatown. They know the area, and if things get hot, they’ll have my soldiers on either side to assist.”

“Understood, General. I’ll have them assemble here, at Harvard Street. You can issue rifles there in…say, three hours?”

General Houston nodded and glanced at the supply sergeant. “Make that happen.”

“Yes, sir.”

A staff member leaned over and whispered into the general’s ear. “And Beowulf?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “But soon.”

“All right then,” the general said, straightening up. “We’ve all got a lot of work to do, so let’s get to it.” He turned to one of his staff. “William, ride with me, I want to inspect those bridges before we head down to the Common.”

“We have a car waiting outside, sir.”

***

Tesla sat alone and motionless in the base mess hall, staring intently at the bowl of soup before him.

From a nearby table, Edison, Colonel Oliver, and several officers watched the strange display. When Tesla began muttering to himself, Edison turned back to his meal companions.

“And now he’s gone from soup to nuts,” he said, enjoying their laughter.

A quick motion caught Edison’s eye, and he turned to see Savannah running through the tables toward Tesla. She carried a thin envelope in her hands, and her face was beaming.

“Nikola!” she cried as she came up behind him.

Tesla didn’t turn around, but kept mumbling numbers under his breath, his eyes fixed on the bowl.

“Hey,” she said, sitting down beside him. He startled, then smiled in welcome.

“What
are
you doing, Nikola?”

He grinned sheepishly. “An old game I play with myself. I calculate the cubic contents of my soup plates and coffee cups.”

“And the purpose behind that?” she asked, having forgotten the envelope she carried.

“Otherwise, I would have found my meal to be unenjoyable.”

“Huh. OK then,” she said. “Well, forget all that, because you won’t need it.” She held the envelope in front of her. “This is going to be the best meal you’ve had in years!”

“An intriguing prediction. But that envelope doesn’t look so tasty.”

“Funny.” She handed the envelope to him. “Just read it!”

He took it from her and pulled out a single typed letter on expensive letterhead. Unfolding it, he read the message to himself. Halfway through, his eyes went wide.

“Is this really true?”

Savannah nodded and clapped her hands. “Damn right it is. Bertram nominated you for it awhile back. It just came in today!”

“A MacArthur genius grant? For me?”

“Can you think of a more deserving genius?” she asked.

“Hmm…since you put it that way, perhaps not. I’m just stunned. It seems unreal.” He set the letter down and rubbed his face. When he opened his eyes, the letter was still there.

“It means formal recognition of your work, Nikola. Around the world. Not to mention the prize money.”

“Money too?”

“Enough to get your own lab started, if that’s what you want. But I hope you stay with us, of course! Oh, I am so proud of you!”

“Thank you, Savannah. Truly. And you say Bertram set this in motion?”

“Yep. He meets a lot of smart folks, so his opinion carries some weight with the selection board.”

“Incredible,” Tesla said. “I must go thank him, at once.” He folded the letter into his jacket pocket and stood. “Thank you again. Amazing!” he said, running off.

“Yes, it is,” she said to herself. She glanced down at his dishes and wondered if he’d figured out the soup’s volume or not.

Nearby, Edison’s face burned, but he struggled hard to not let his feeling show.
After everything I’ve given the world, he gets a genius grant? Unbelievable
.

“Are you all right, Mr. Edison?”

He looked up and saw Colonel Oliver’s concerned expression.
Guess I have a poor poker face
.

A quick smile wiped away the dour frown. “But of course, Colonel! I was just…worried about Bertram’s condition, that’s all.”

“I understand. I haven’t properly met the man, but I hear he did great work with that R&D lab. That must be a big job.”

“It is,” he answered, thinking of his own lab at Menlo Park. “But it’s highly rewarding, directing talented people to create something great.”