The Forever Engine (31 page)

FORTY-ONE

Early hours of October 15, 1888, Kokin Brod, Serbia

I helped Gordon and his companion drag the unconscious guard into the room. The companion took the guard’s place on the chair outside, I closed the door, and Gordon and I tied and gagged the guard using strips torn from my bed sheet.

“Who’s your helper?” I asked.

“Radojica’s cousin Zoran. He and his father, Jovo’s uncle, are helping us.”

“Jovo’s alive?”

Gordon’s face darkened.

“No. Tesla’s thugs took him out into the town square and shot him. I suppose that’s why his relatives are willing to help us.”

“They speak English?”

Gordon smiled again.

“Not a word. They speak a bit of German, so the Bavarians have been translating for us. They masqueraded as local militia yesterday, brought some hams and onions right in here while you and Tesla were off somewhere, said it was supplies sent from their village. The cook showed them the way to the pantry on this floor and pretty much ignored them after that. Zoran managed to unlock a window on the main floor before they left, and here we are.”

“How did you manage to communicate with him getting up here?” I asked.

“Sign language. We couldn’t risk talking in any case.”

“What about Thomson and the others? Tesla told me his men killed all of you.”

“Two of the Bavarians were wounded in the fight, but both will survive. We fought off the attack on the ridge, and Thomson managed to pass as a local somehow, so he escaped detection in the town.”

Tesla had lied about everything—everything except Jovo.

Gordon wore the clothes of a Serb hill man, and his eyes followed mine as I looked him over.

“I look the proper
bashi-bazouk
, don’t I?” he said with relish.

“
Hajduci
is the Serbian term.
Bashi-bazouks
are Turkish. Folks around here are sensitive to the difference. So this is a rescue, huh?”

“Quite so. We weren’t sure where they were holding you, but the guarded room seemed a good place to start. Do you know where Mademoiselle Courbiere is held? We’ll collect her next and be on our way.”

Yeah. That was going to be a problem.

“She’s on the next floor up. Her room is right next to Tesla’s.”

Even in the darkness I saw his expression harden.

“The cad!”

Gordon had the wrong idea on that score, but I didn’t feel like setting him straight.
Cad
was simple,
brother
complicated—too damned complicated right now.

If we could get to Gabrielle, I didn’t see why we couldn’t get to Tesla and maybe wrap this whole thing up right then, and I said so, but Gordon shook his head.

“There is a light up there, and voices. It sounds as if there may be several guards, and they are awake. Can’t chance it, I’m afraid. Just trying to get you was risky enough, but it seemed worth the gamble. We didn’t want Tesla embarrassing us by using you or Mademoiselle Courbiere as hostages.”

“You mean that would have stopped you?”

He scratched his head and smiled.

“No, and that’s what could have been so embarrassing, you see?”

Despite the situation, I smiled.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I said.

“I confess I am a bit, which is rather surprising.”

Someone knocked softly at the door and then opened it a crack.

“Everything is all correct?” a man asked in heavily accented German.

“Yes. You must be Zoran. Are the guards still moving around upstairs?”

“Yes. I count four voices.”

I translated for Gordon.

“We will wait twenty minutes. If they do not settle down or move off by then, we will have to go,” he said, and I translated it back to Zoran.

The door closed, and we stood there for a moment.

“You do understand the necessity, don’t you?” he said. “To leave her here, I mean, if we cannot effect a rescue?”

“I do.”

“She is a professional agent, after all. She understood the risks when—”

“I understand.”

More than he could imagine. Gordon looked away, clearly uncomfortable. It had to go against the grain for a Victorian officer and gentleman to leave a lady in distress, even a French
Communard
. It sure rubbed me wrong.

He didn’t think capturing Tesla would work, either. Tesla was too likely to make noise, wake up the guards. Of course, there was always the possibility of
not
taking him prisoner, but I didn’t share that. Murdering someone in their sleep, even someone like Tesla, was not in Gordon’s playbook, and it sure wouldn’t get me home.

“So what’s the big plan?” I said.

“Cevik Bey is attacking at first light, down the valley, with his rifle battalion. We are to make some sort of diversion. Beyond that there isn’t much agreement. I was thinking . . . well, perhaps you had some thoughts on how we might proceed.”

So that was the real reason for the daring rescue—a consulting gig.

“I’ve got a couple ideas,” I said. “Tesla’s bunkered up pretty good here, and bristling with guns. He’s not getting the help from the locals he was expecting, though, so he’s shorthanded. I think we can work something out, provided Durson is willing to pitch in.”

“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem. That Durson chap is quite remarkable—for an American of course,” Gordon said and smiled. “He’s as good an NCO as I’ve ever seen. Bloody Turks are mad not to make him an officer, considering the riffraff they regularly hire.”

“So put in a good word for him when this is all done.”

“You honestly think the Turks will pay any attention to a simple captain?”

“If we pull this off, they’ll listen to anything you have to say. If we don’t, we won’t have to worry about it.”

He nodded thoughtfully, and we stood quietly for a little while, waiting for the guards to go away or go to sleep.

“Where’s Thomson?” I asked.

“Still in Brezna. He wasn’t physically up to the trek down here, so he’s lying up there until we’re finished. We’ll pick him up on our way back. It seems Jovo salvaged a fair number of components of Tesla’s crashed zeppelin, and the doctor has enlisted most of the town in assembling a powered hot-air balloon of some sort from the wreckage.”

“Think he’ll manage it? It would save us having to hitch a ride back with the Royal Navy.”

Gordon chuckled softly.

“I doubt it will fly, but at least he’s occupied. Quite a remarkable old man. Do you know what he told me after we got back to Brezna? He made a miscalculation in the age of the Earth. My uncle, Professor Tyndall, was correct in his beliefs all along. Thomson will publish his retraction as soon as we return to England. Can you imagine? I wonder if anyone alive could even have discovered his error. But he is willing to risk ridicule to honor a dead man with whom he could hardly exchange a civil word when they were alive. Quite remarkable. Well, he’s safe where he is, and we will pick him up after this business is finished.”

“Assuming everything goes according to plan,” I said, but something nagged at me. “The problem is Tesla has a surprise up his sleeve, something to do with electricity. I just don’t know what it is.”

“We have a surprise as well,” Gordon said. “Harding has returned with
Intrepid
and is bringing it across the border tomorrow to support the attack. I rather suspect he has considered how being surprised twice by the black zeppelin will look back in London and has decided he needs to do something spectacular to salvage his reputation. Well, whatever his motives, he’s here. Let Tesla try to use his zeppelin tomorrow, with an armored cruiser aloft—and this time at action stations with guns manned.”

“It’s something else.”

Gordon slapped me on the arm.

“Whatever it is, we’ll find a way to deal with it.”

Gordon seemed different, more confident. It reminded me of the conclusion I’d come to earlier.

“So, how long have you been a spy?” I said.

He froze for a moment, then he laughed softly, but the laugh sounded forced.

“Well, I’ve been in military intelligence for ages now, if that’s what you mean.”

“It’s not, and you know it.”

He took out his pocket watch and checked it, but there was still plenty of time.

“Well, I’m afraid—”

“Can it, Gordon. You’re busted. You’ve gone to great lengths to exchange out with officers in your regiment to stay in England, in the intelligence office, rather than take the field overseas.”

“Yes, as General Buller was so quick to point out as well. But as you recall, he concluded I was a coward, not a spy.”

“I know. But Gabrielle told me the Prince of Wales described you as ‘one of the bravest officers in our service.’”

Gordon shifted and looked down.

“I can’t imagine why,” he said.

“I couldn’t, either, especially since I got the feeling in Munich you two had never met. Thomson actually introduced you, and neither you nor the prince batted an eye.”

“What’s your point?” he said, a hard edge now in his voice.

“You gave me a little lecture about British politics, and how the Prince of Wales is the only man in Britain who can stand up to Lord Chillingham. It was pretty clear where your sympathies rested in that matchup.”

“What of it?”

“Well, I got to asking myself a question. Why would someone who admired the Prince of Wales, and loathed Chillingham, ruin his reputation to stay assigned to the one branch of the army under Chillingham’s direct control? And why would the prince think that was an act of bravery? And then I got it: you’re the prince’s spy on the inside of Chillingham’s organization.”

The silence dragged out for almost a minute before Gordon spoke.

“I won’t answer that,” he said.

I laughed. “It wasn’t a question.”

He looked at me intently for a moment, then his expression softened, and he smiled.

“Did he really say that about me? One of the bravest officers in the service?”

“Gabrielle said he did, and the term he used was ‘in
our
service.’ That was another clue. You know how royalty talks; he said
our
when he meant you were in
his
service. For what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing takes a lot of guts.”

He took the revolver out of his sash and hefted it in his hand, getting the feel of it.

“Perhaps, but it’s not the same thing.” He brandished the revolver. “This dashing about with bullets and knives flying, or those damnable killer birds—well . . .”

“I know, physical courage is different. But honestly, if you have the one, you can learn the other. It’s a matter—”

“—of muscle memory. Yes, yes, I remember, teaching your body to respond correctly. To tell you the truth, I was nearly worthless every time the shooting started. But then during the attack on Brezna, I was so preoccupied with the troops under my command, and not making a hash of things, I forgot to be frightened about myself.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much the trick,” I said.

“Well, you might have told me so,” he said, a trace of indignation in his voice.

I chuckled again. “Doesn’t do any good to tell someone. That’s one you just have learn on your own.”

He checked his watch again and then sat down in the chair by the desk. I pulled the armchair over and sat beside him.

“Speaking of spies,” I said, “Professor Meredith is Tesla’s man in London.”

“Meredith? The cabinet science advisor? That round little nothing of a man?”

“Sometimes they’re the ones to watch out for. Tesla told me his agent passed the coin to his assassin. I saw Meredith give the coin to the thug that got away, just before he went through the window. It was the only time Meredith broke cover once the attack started.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You were still . . . out of the room when he did it.”

He smiled ruefully and shook his head.

“Meredith—who could believe it? You know, I really was going for help, odd as that sounds. It seemed to make sense to me at the moment.”

“Unless people are very well trained, most of them will panic in the face of a sudden and unexpected emergency. Only good training, or a lot of experience, prevents it.”

“I’ve wanted to ask for some time, how do you know all this?”

“Well, experience for one thing. You already figured out I wasn’t
just
a translator. But after my wife died, they pulled me out of the field, moved me into training. That’s when I learned most of the scientific end of the physiology of stress response. It’s pretty fascinating science. I liked training people, too. That’s probably why I got into teaching afterwards.”

We sat quietly for a few minutes. He looked at his watch again.

“Time to go. Oh, I brought something for you,” Gordon said.

We walked softly to the door, and I saw a bulky, rifle-sized package lying against the wall.

“Just in case there is trouble.”

He handed me Gabrielle’s leather gun case.

I unzipped it and pulled out the Winchester twelve-gauge, carefully worked the lever to check the magazine, made sure it was empty, then loaded five rounds from the ammunition bandolier. I carefully lowered the hammer, clicked on the safety, and slipped the bandolier over my head and shoulder. I nodded to Gordon I was ready.

He opened the door a few inches. Zoran turned to us and shook his head. I could still hear the voices from upstairs. Gordon closed the door and turned to me.

“We can’t wait any longer. Sergeant Melzer and Corporal O’Mara will begin squabbling if I’m not there to sort things out.”

I thought about Gabrielle at the top of the stairs, alone in bed, and I wondered if she slept. Was she able to switch off at night, like a machine? Or did she lie awake and wonder about all the things she had dreamed of for years, wonder what it meant when dreams come true in ways we never quite expected, and what she would do next, now that she’d come to the end of her rainbow. I took a deep breath.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

We managed not to set off any alarms on our way out. Clouds masked the thin crescent moon, and we ran noiselessly across the soft grass to the wooded foothills, then climbed for twenty minutes at a pace that left Gordon and me both panting. The clouds parted for a moment, and moonlight illuminated the valley behind us, turning the big house silver, the surrounding landscape dull iron, the lake oiled steel. I stared, finding it hard to think of it as real, as a place where flesh lived, until Gordon touched my shoulder and nodded after our guide. Again we climbed.