Tesla's Signal (52 page)

“Installing an Orb, I'll bet.”

“We won't let them.”  

Miraculously, he heard no protests from Clara about how he was too “weak” and needed to “rest”. Without a word she helped him back into the Saucer and took the driver's seat. The Saucer started up with a pleasing hum, and the two spinning hemispheres gave off a faint glow as they lifted off.

They approached downtown Philadelphia, floating above the jeweled lines of street lights Broad Street. He must be near the Franklin Institute, where he had once given a lecture on his alternating current system. Clara slowed the Saucer and edged it behind a tall building.

“There they are,” he cried.

A circle of Martian ships surrounded City Hall, an ornate building the size of a city block, its facade covered with fanciful carvings and crenelations. And there at its highest point, where William Penn's statue stood, Niko saw the thing he hated most in the world: a pearly Orb, being lowered into place on William Penn's head.

His hand closed around his own Protection Amulet, which hung from a thick chain beneath his shirt. This small device was all that protected him from having his soul sucked out by that Orb.

He breathed a Serbian curse. His fingers crept toward the Teleforce ray gun, which had been mounted on a turret.

“Niko? What are you doing? Leave that alone.”

“We have to destroy it.” His hatred of the U'jaan made it impossible to think straight.

“Nikola.” Clara held onto his arm. “Let's think clearly. We're outnumbered. They'll shoot us down, and if we hide behind buildings, they'll smash them. Then they'll punish Philadelphia.”

“Yes. S-sorry...for a moment, I couldn't think.” He tried to bring his feelings under control by counting windows in the nearby Colonial Insurance building.

“I know how you feel. I hate it too. 'But...let's stick to our plan. Wait till they leave and install the Protection Amulet...see how well it protects a city from the Orb. This will be our field test.”

“Very well,” he muttered. “Your logic is unassailable. We'll wait them out.”

Clara brought the Saucer down in Rittenhouse Square Park. A couple of hobos caught sight of the flying machine, leaped up from park benches and disappeared. Niko and Clara emerged and headed up Broad Street.

Though the tower clock read 1 a.m., a crowd of people had gathered to watch the invaders on their hovering platforms, installing their infernal device. Some of them wailed and screamed in terror. Others, previously converted, fell to their knees crying “glory hallelujah, the Holy Angels have come to bring the Kingdom!”

Some of the figures on the platform looked like humans.
That's probably Edison up there, helping the bastards crush humanity,
Niko thought.
He clenched and unclenched his hands around his Amulet. He could actually feel the waves of the Orb frequency radiating out into the air, and colliding with those produced by his phase jammer. The conflicting waves set his teeth on edge—but it was far better than the alternative.

“Attention Philadelphia,” said the amplified voice of Sister Shelia from the platform above. “We have come to bring you Heavenly Blessings.”

Niko began reciting a verse by Goethe to block out the rest of the announcement, which notified the Angels' new disciples that all schools, machines and technology were now forbidden. Even those who had been screaming in terror a few moments ago, had already fallen under the Orb's power. “Yes, yes, Lord yes,” they murmured, bowing and swaying.

The Angels finally got in their ship and zipped away. Now the crowd just wandered about smiling vacantly, their will stolen by the Orb.

He grabbed Clara's arm. “Let's get to work.”

“Yes. But
I'm
doing the installation. You're in no shape to go climbing around on top of buildings.”

“If you insist.” Scowling, Niko took the controls. With his good hand, he gently glided the Saucer toward the roof of the National Trust building, across from City Hall where the Orb had been placed. Meanwhile Clara worked on the Amulet: a shallow cylindrical object, covered by a wooden clock face with painted Roman numerals.

Below, the crowds just watched bemused as though this was another project of their Angel Masters.

“Folks, here's some blessings for you.” Clara flipped a switch and the Amulet's sensitive receivers began to pick up vibrations from the distant Tussey mountain array.  These vibrations passed through a series of resonant circuits which produced a symphony of oscillations. She shut her eyes to listen, and carefully adjusted the voltage controls until it produced an exact mirror of that hateful glowing
thing
on Bill Penn's head.

“Let's hang it from that gargoyle at the top of the roof. ” She finished putting on a safety harness, crept to the edge of the Saucer and securely strapped the Amulet to the projecting gargoyle. “There we go.  Glory be!”

Back in her seat, she studied the throngs of people below. “I can't tell if it's having an effect.”

“Do the people look any less blissful now than they did a moment ago?”   

“Hard to tell,” Clara said, “but someone's already disobeying the Angelic
shmendriks.
He's getting into a Model T.”

“Then our mission was a success. We've saved Philadelphia!” Smiling, Niko pushed the altitude controls and they spun away.

A short while later, the Protection Amulet began radiating strong concentric pulses. Their waves were timed to exactly mirror the waves of the Orb. Spikes were answered with troughs and vice versa. Those receiving the conflicting impulses felt only a mild confusion and an annoying buzz.

“What did we just see in the sky?” People asked their friends.

“I forget. Was it a zeppelin?”

“I don't know...I felt something strange, but it's gone now. Lord, I've got such a headache!”

“Look,” said someone, pointing at the Orb. “Some prankster's put a shiny hat on Bill Penn!”

People soon cleared the streets, seeking the comfort of the medicine bottle. In the next few hours, the headaches diminished. Soon they would simply ignore the odd pearly object on top of William Penn and go about their business again.

Even those who had received the Angel implant experienced a lessening of their Masters' control. Some of them could no longer feel the rush of bliss that had filled their days. They wandered around forlornly, wondering where it had gone and why their former masters, the Blessed Angels, seemed to be ignoring them.

“I guess we weren't worthy,” they said to each other.

By that time, the two miscreants responsible for liberating the city were long gone.

***

To avoid detection, they flew close to the ground until they found a remote stretch near the Delaware River, where they landed for a few hours' sleep. The next morning they took a direct route across New Jersey, heading toward Manhattan. Clara piloted, while Niko navigated and watched the screen. As they approached Staten Island, the pulse-screen signaled the presence of an alien ship.

“They're on the move,” he muttered.

“Have they spotted us?”

“Hope not.” He had set up a whole bank of oscillators producing frequencies of various types, hoping to confuse the enemy's detection apparatus. But just in case, he constantly looked out for places to land if they needed to hide.  

“Are the
schmucks
setting up another Orb?”

“I don't think so. Not a strong enough signal to be an Orb. Just a single ship.” By now they had become expert at interpreting the signs. “Maybe a routine patrol. Or they have a base around here. Clara, take a detour to the east...cross that river. Let's get closer.”

She kept the Saucer low, creeping up along the edge of the river until they caught sight of a single Martian battleship, of the type that had attacked Tussey Mountain. It floated downward, as if looking for prey .

A sudden loud boom sounded from concealment in the city below.

“What in God's name...?” Niko picked up the binoculars and searched for the disturbance. He heard another boom. Something exploded upward and a cloud of smoke issued from within the factory complex. “Is there a battle going on?”

“Good Lord,” Clara said, “I think some idiot's shooting at them with a cannon.”

“Where are they shooting from?” He focused the binocs and now he clearly spotted two long gun muzzles aiming toward the sky. They spat out flame and smoke as the Martian ship passed overhead. But the weapons lacked the firepower to reach the foe. The shells curved and fell whistling back to earth.

Niko smacked his forehead in dismay. “Clara, it's those fools at the Phoenix meeting!”
We can get a Howitzer gun. We'll die defending our liberty...
 

The Howitzer fired another round. The Martian ship returned fire, its deadly ray melting the gun to scrap. The entire factory complex exploded in a hail of bricks, metal, burning wood and oily black fumes. An acrid smell wafted up to them. Clara wrinkled her nose. “What kind of industrial chemicals...”

“Oh, no. Niko—look up there.” She pointed at a formation of three biplanes which came charging toward the ship. “Dear Lord! It's Wright Model-B's!”

“What are they doing...are they insane?” Niko groaned, watching the delicate planes trying to engage the Martian battleship with a weapon little better than a Gatling gun. The alien ship hovered for a moment, as though gauging the threat, and opened fire. A ray lanced out and crisped one of the delicate wooden biplanes into a knot of burning matchsticks, which slowly tumbled to the ground. “Oh dear God...it must be our friend Lawrence Parker-Jones...”

He fell silent as the attacker laid down a row of fire on the whole street below.
Punishment.
 

“Monsters! Let's get them,” Clara cried.

“Now
you're
the one who's not thinking logically. Let's just get to safety before another one comes.”

She banked the Saucer as fast as it would go, heading for the open ocean.

“Those poor fools,” said Niko, when he could speak. “I told them not to...I warned them.”

“They wanted to be heroes,” Clara said. “Defending Liberty, like their Revolutionary forebears.”

“They probably tracked the Martians and laid in wait for them. If I hadn't given them a pulse-screen...”

He began to compose a letter in his imagination.
Dear Miss Ophelia, it is with deep sadness that I must inform you of the death of your friend, airman Lawrence Parker-Jones. He gave his life as a true patriot and hero, along with several other valiant military men, defending humanity against the alien invaders. Your friend, Nikola.
 

He studied the map for a moment. “You know what? That city, I think it was Menlo Park.”

“Really?”

“We're above the Raritan River, west of Staten Island.” A thought occurred to him. “Good Lord! I wonder if that factory building was...” he broke off, reviewing the location in his mind. It was hard to tell from so far away, but... “I wonder if it was Thomas Edison's lab!”

Edison probably wasn't using the lab right now, because otherwise the Defenders of Liberty wouldn't have been able to place a cannon inside its walls. Nevertheless, Niko liked the symbolism. He began to compose another letter in his imagination.

Dear Tom, this is your buddy Nick. I'm happy to inform you that your precious Angel friends have destroyed your facility at Menlo Park. Now you know how it feels to have your lab wrecked! Things are going to get much worse for you, Tom, because I will soon be marching at the head of my Tesla Army to defeat you and your Martian friends and throw them back into outer space. If you're smart, you'll run while you can. The Vengeance of Tesla is at hand! Your old chum, Nikola Tesla
.

***

High Command Ship

“Attention all officers of the U'jaan Sky Voyager Fleet. Her Holiness has summoned you.” The message sounded throughout the Fleet relay system: “All officers are ordered to report to the High Command Ship at once. Please board the shuttle that has been sent for you.”

Captain K'viin, Z'duun and the others all dropped their regular duties and made haste to obey.

The Command ship floated in high stationary orbit: a huge flat disc-shape with a massive dome in its center. K'viin's shuttle entered a port on the underside of the disc, followed by several more that had come from other parts of the target world Earth.

The officers entered the great domed chamber, removed suits and helmets, and bent their necks in submission.

“Come close,” said a great booming voice. K'viin and the others rose to face Her: the Queen Mother.

A female of immense proportions, the Queen Mother lounged on a raised central platform covered with spongy material. Surrounded by silver-clad attendants, she lay wreathed in an opulence of sparkling drapery and glowing metallics. A great pearly backdrop framed her throne-bed; its surface resembled that of the Silver Chambers.

A low chime sounded. The Queen Mother sat up straight and extended her claws, giving blessing to them all. A great low murmur of sound filled the chamber: the sound of bliss.