Einstein Must Die! (Fate of Nations Book 1) (36 page)

Davis sat up. “Are you saying that the Beowulf tank is now being controlled by a young girl?”

“A twelve-year-old girl, Mr. Davis. Yes, that is precisely what I am saying.”

Davis rubbed his face. “My God. Things have been moving so fast around here. We didn’t know that.” He looked up and stared into space, turning over the disturbing news.

“And I’m afraid it’s worse than you know,” continued Edison. He paused, letting the moment hang.

“What? What else?”

Edison sighed as if sorry to report the news. “I know for a fact that the Beowulf tank, under the control of the twelve-year-old girl, is responsible for killing American troops.”

“What?” exclaimed Davis.

Edison nodded gravely. “I heard her admit it myself. It was an accident, of course. But it does sadly illustrate the danger of putting such firepower under the control of someone woefully unprepared for it. Or of letting machines fight men’s wars.”

Davis’s spine had gone straight as an iron bar. He met Edison’s eyes. “This changes the landscape, Mr. Edison.”

“I am gratified to hear you think so, Mr. Davis.”

Davis took a deep breath. “All right, that hammers it home. You are hereby authorized to assume command of the lab. Any work previously begun is now yours to direct as you see fit.”

Edison beamed and thrust out his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Davis. I won’t let you or the president down.”

Davis shook Edison’s hand, standing to see him out. “I do believe that, Mr. Edison. I’m happy to have a man we can trust taking the helm. I’ll get the official orders cut tonight and sent to Colonel Oliver at Hanscom.”

“A pleasure,” Edison said, walking from the conference room with more than he’d dreamed. He found he was looking forward to the return flight and eager to begin making changes.

As he made his way back outside and caught a taxi back to the airfield, he marveled at how things had fallen into place. Usually, success required tireless, grueling work, but sometimes all that was needed was to have patience and let victory come to you.

A warm glow spread through him, much as he imagined alcohol must do for others. He basked in the cloud-like feelings, until he remembered the other visit he must make before returning to Hanscom.

When they reached the airfield, he instructed the pilot to land in New York City before they continued north.

He had a sick friend to visit.

***

NEW YORK CITY, NY, USA

For minutes Edison stood outside Dally’s small, ramshackle home, hesitant to knock on the door. He’d been told his apprentice’s condition had worsened, badly. He tried to imagine what that might look like, but then struggled to clear the nightmare image from his mind.

Inside he pictured Dally, in bed, with his wife and children milling helplessly about, watching him deteriorate and having no way to help him. A fate not fit for criminals, let alone innocent women and children. But they would bear it, because they had no other choice.

He knocked twice, wishing he were anywhere else. A soft voice came from behind the door, and he heard someone approaching.

The door opened, and Dally’s wife appeared. Edison guessed she hadn’t slept much in the past week. Her welcoming smile was thin and vanished in an instant. Her eyes were puffy, and she moved with a slouching shuffle. Without a word she turned away, leaving the door open.

Edison stepped inside the dark room, struck by both the smell and the disorder. Two children were playing with blocks and other toys lay strewn around the home. Clothes and dishes had accumulated in several piles. He followed her through to the bedroom and was wholly unprepared for what had been done to his apprentice.

Dally lay on his bed, asleep, with several pillows bunched behind his back. He had been reading a book his wife had propped up for him.

The scene was quite pleasant, except that Dally had no arms.

The radiation had ravaged his body. While the doctor first took four fingers of the left hand, that hadn’t been sufficient. He later removed the entire arm, up to the shoulder.

But the metastatic cancer was thorough and brutal. To save Dally’s life, the other arm had been removed as well. Now his friend lay in bed, helpless to assist himself, and drowning in pain, sorrow, and guilt.

Edison had been warned, but the shock of it still made his chest hurt. He knelt beside Dally, careful not to wake him. His twin stumps were heavily bandaged, and one still bled slightly, staining the white cloth.

The scene was horrific, more suited for a battlefield than a home. But Dally’s face was oddly serene.

“It’s the only respite he gets from the pain,” said his wife. “We let him sleep as much as possible.”

Edison nodded, wanting to comfort the man. But if sleep was his only escape, then Edison wouldn’t steal it from him. He stood and backed away quietly.

In the living room, Edison turned to the bedraggled woman. “Your husband will remain on my payroll for the rest of his life. I can at least do that much.”

She looked up at him blankly, then nodded. She moved to the door. Knowing he was being dismissed, Edison followed her.

She opened the door for him and stood, watching her children stacking blocks.

“Good-bye, Mrs. Dally,” he said and stepped outside.

Behind him the door shut with a soft click.

***

The following morning Savannah’s eyes snapped open. Even lying in bed and barely awake, a sense of boundless energy danced within her. She smiled and rolled up, throwing her feet over the side and pulling her comforter up around her shoulders.

The floor was cool on her bare feet, but she was excited to begin the day. She and Tesla had discussed bringing Madelaine outside for some field tests, and she was eager to let her daughter demonstrate how much she’d learned.

She rushed through a hot, steaming shower, threw on some clothes, and grabbed a banana to eat on the walk over to the hangar. There was a lot to run through today. A speed run through an obstacle course, long-range test firing with her new radar, and if they could find a suitable location, she wanted Madelaine to try out her main cannon.

As she approached the hangar, she saw Tesla, George, and Sophia standing outside the main door. From the way Tesla was waving his arms around, it looked like he was arguing with the security guards. She picked up her pace.

“I am completely uninterested in your orders!” Tesla was yelling. “You will unlock these doors now and stand aside.”

“No, sir, we will not,” said the beefy guard. A second guard stood beside him, coolly eyeing Tesla. Savannah realized she’d never seen these men before, and then noticed they both wore sidearms.

“Stand. Aside,” growled Tesla, punching his finger into the guard’s chest to emphasize the point.

Both men’s hands slid down to their belts and unsnapped their holsters.

“Hello, gentlemen! What’s going on here?” she asked, smiling broadly.

“These…automatons have locked us out of our hangar!” yelled Tesla.

“Hang on, Nikola,” she said, then turned to the guards. “Under whose authority was this lab locked?”

“The lab director, ma’am. Mr. Edison.”

Tesla’s mouth hung slack, and he began to go apoplectic. “Director? Edison!” he yelled. “That accountant is no—”

“Nikola,” said Savannah, resting her hand on his shoulder. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “This is not the way. Let me handle this, OK?”

He glared at the guards, but nodded, then turned and took a few steps away.

“Sorry about that,” she said, returning to the guards and letting her Southern accent deepen.

“S’OK,” the first one said. “We’re just following orders, you know?”

“Of course,” she replied, nodding in understanding and pleased to see their hands come off their pistols. “So…when did y’all receive these orders?”

“Last night about midnight, ma’am. We’re to secure this building. No one inside without Mr. Edison’s permission. That’s about it, really.”

“Sure, sure,” Savannah said, her mind reeling. Could Edison have staged a coup so quickly? If so, she was grudgingly impressed. “So, Colonel Oliver is aware of this?”

The guards looked at each other for a moment in confusion. “Ma’am, our orders came from Colonel Oliver himself.”

Savannah felt the previous excitement and joy evaporate and a cold anxiety take its place in her belly.
I underestimated Edison
.

“What about Beowulf? The tank inside?” she asked, suddenly fearful for Madelaine.

“Don’t know about that, ma’am. We just locked the place up tight, that’s it.”

She nodded and forced a brief smile, willing herself to remain calm. “Thank you, Corporal. I do appreciate it.”

“Sure thing,” he said.

She turned back to Tesla. He, George, and Sophia had huddled together, whispering together.
Hatching a rebellion plan, no doubt
. She smiled at the sight. With Tesla in his pressed slacks and starched dress shirt, and the others in white lab coats, the scientists looked like the world’s least likely agitators.

There was nothing to be gained here, though. They needed to regroup, get some intel, and come up with a proper plan. While unpleasant, the fastest way to get the lay of the land was to confront Edison and the colonel.

She adored Tesla, but didn’t trust him to keep his emotions reined in. “Nikola, I’m going to find out what’s going on. Why don’t you guys wait for me? It shouldn’t take long.”

His face had reddened in suppressed anger, and he paced back and forth. Savannah’s forced smile told him her request wasn’t really a request.

“Fine,” he said. “You understand these waters better than I.”

“Been swimming them a long time,” she said. “Give me a half hour. I’ll meet you by that big oak tree near the kids’ playground. OK?” She scanned their faces and knew George and Sophia were just as upset as Tesla. They just contained their feelings better.

Tesla nodded. “Good luck, Savannah.”

“It’ll be OK. We’ll get this figured out,” she said and headed for the base CO’s office.

The short walk gave her a minute to compose herself and prepare for the worst. She felt her father’s absence. The colonel would have had a good plan already. Somehow they’d need to solve this themselves.

She entered Colonel Oliver’s office, feeling a bit like a sheep visiting the fox. His receptionist gave her a curt nod and spoke into an intercom.
So I’m expected. This has been well thought out
.

The colonel’s door opened, and he waved Savannah inside. “Please come in, Mrs. Browning.”

She followed him inside, not at all surprised to find Edison there. He stood and offered his hand. “Hello again,” he said.

She smiled and took his hand. “Mr. Edison,” she said with a nod. “It seems you’ve been a busy man.”

“Ah yes,” he said, walking to the window. He turned and leaned back against the sill. “Please understand this is no reflection of my feelings about you. We simply have differing opinions of how technology should be used in war. In this case the powers that be have agreed with my view.”

“I see,” she said, settling into a leather club chair. “And how would you summarize your view?”

Edison drummed his fingers on the windowsill, thinking. “Machines exist to serve man, Mrs. Browning. Not the other way around. And certainly not to wage war for us.”

“Your vision is for machines as support only.”

“Of course! We need men on the battlefield, and those men deserve our support. We’re already making plans to expand our telegraph network extensively, to better get field reports and orders from place to place.”

“Beowulf is a controversial project, I grant. But I was not aware the zeal of your disapproval had risen to the level of a coup.”

“Please,” he replied. “Let’s not be dramatic. We’re not talking about overthrowing a government here, just a misguided, soulless, very expensive research project.”

Dark thoughts swirled behind Savannah’s eyes, but she kept them hidden away. “And your plans for us?”

“The Beowulf project is shelved. All work done by the lab will be relocated to my facility at Menlo Park. I can even offer you all positions there, on more suitable projects.”

“Under your direction.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I see. You understand that my daughter is an integral part of the project?”

“Obviously,” replied Edison. “And you do have my sympathies. But until I decide what to do with it, that tank will remain exactly where it is.”

She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Mr. Edison, you…You’re about to exceed the limitations of my graciousness.”

Edison smiled, but said nothing.

“And if Madelaine disagrees? You could hardly stop her.”

“You’re right. She will be placed in warm shutdown.”

Savannah leaped to her feet. “You can’t do that!”

“I most certainly can. I’ve studied your materials and could perform the procedure myself. As you say, I could hardly stop her otherwise. She won’t be harmed, just…neutralized.”

Savannah prided herself on decorum and political shrewdness, but she felt those things washing away. Beneath them, the jagged, rocky core of a mother’s instinct was being revealed. She knew she was losing control, and the two men saw the change too.

The colonel leaned over and spoke into the intercom. A moment later an armed guard entered the room and eyed Savannah intently.

Savannah fought against the maelstrom swirling in her mind. She tried not to think about Edison turning Madelaine off like one of his light bulbs, but the image had stuck. Her eyes closed as she fought the impulse to rip out Edison’s throat.

A hand grabbed her above the elbow. She blinked and saw the guard standing beside her. He gently but firmly pushed her toward the door. “Please come with me, ma’am.”

As she was led away, Savannah felt a disturbing sensation closing around her like a hot, stifling blanket.

She had failed her daughter.

***

BOSTON, MA, USA

Colonel Thomas strode up to one of his company commanders. “You let your men get too concentrated!” he yelled, leaning in uncomfortably close.

The company commander stammered a reply. “I…but, sir—”