Authors: L. Woodswalker
“Run! He's called up an army of demons!” Forgetting their quarry, people dropped their makeshift weapons and scattered in every direction.
Niko wiped sweat from his face. The two of them slipped away, and no one even noticed.
Clara only made it a few blocks before her ankle gave out. Niko picked her up in his arms and carried her through the darkening streets. The white shape of Alouette still soared above their heads and the tremendous flock formed a cloud of protection around them. The rest of New York—enemies, pursuers and random pedestrians—kept their distance.
He didn't stop running until they reached their Roadster, waiting quietly on Water Street.
“Alouette kept her promise,” Clara said. “She looked out for us.”
He placed Clara in the passenger seat, still gasping too heavily to speak. His hands shook so badly he had trouble turning on the ignition. To his great relief, the Roadster started right up, its electric motor quiet as a cat's purr.
He drove as fast as he dared, dreading every side street, imagining more pursuers. But they made it across the Brooklyn Bridge without incident. Ten minutes later, they were crossing the outlying boroughs at a breezy 50 miles an hour, leaving their foes far behind.
“Well, I've had enough of this town, that's for sure.” Clara waved at the dark, quiet streets of suburban Brooklyn, while her braids whipped in the wind. “So long, New York.”
No matter what happened, Clara loved a fast ride.
18: Remote Control
It took them several hours to detour around the suburban boroughs and finally cross the Hudson.
“God, what an exciting day,” Clara said, after they had put miles between themselves and the murderous mob.
“Yes. Enough excitement for ten lifetimes.”
Clara worked on disentangling her hair, which had come half undone. “Those people...they weren't acting normal. And did you see their eyes?”
“I didn't stop to look.”
“I caught a glimpse. That Silver Chamber
meshugoss
was behind that riot.”
Niko's foot pressed a bit harder on the pedal, distancing himself farther from the nightmare of the last few hours.
Clara fell asleep and he drove through the night, passing a succession of New Jersey farm towns. At dawn she woke up and rubbed her eyes. “So, where are we going now?”
“I don't know. Just...far away from New York.”
Clara reached down and massaged her foot. “
Oy
, my foot hurts like hell.”
“Did you re-injure it? We'd better take a look.” He pulled over near a cornfield.
Grimacing, Clara took off her shoe. “
Ach
...that hurts.”
Niko found the entire foot swollen and bruised. “Maybe we can find you a doctor in the morning.” He wondered if there were any doctors in these parts, and if so, would any of them treat two ragged-looking characters with a few cents to their names.
Now that the sun had risen, he had to keep his speed down to a sensible 25 miles per hour, or risk unwanted attention. And the farther he drove, the worse Clara looked. She cradled the foot, and her grimace of pain just got deeper.
“I saw a sign. We're coming to a town called Browerville. I've got to get you some painkillers.”
“Forget it, Niko...it would just mean trouble.”
“Nonsense.” They entered a sleepy town on a riverbank. They crossed under a railroad bridge that spanned the river, and caught a view of the dam just upstream. Men and horses milled about, loading and unloading cargo. On the main street, delivery wagons made their rounds and an outdoor grocery mart did a brisk business.
All very quiet and serene, thought Niko. Maybe he could obtain what he needed and get out without any trouble. He pulled over and parked.
“Niko, I don't need—”
“Yes you do. I saw a pharmacy back there. Now just sit back and relax while I go buy you some morphine, or at least aspirin.”
He strode away on his mission, not bothering to bring his rucksack, because that would make him look like a bum traveling through. He walked the few blocks, turning a corner.
His nerves still jangled from his terrifying experiences in New York. When he tried to put aside the memories of the lynch mob, he remembered the encounter with Kirk's gang.
Save yourself,
Clara had said.
You have to save the world
. But he had refused to leave her.
The world means nothing without you,
he had said.
Why had he said such an irrational thing? He supposed that she was right about saving the world. So what part of Niko had risen from the depths to scream in protest? Was it possible that Niko had let himself fall in love?
He had closed himself off from romantic involvement, using all kinds of reasons.
I don't have time. Physical relations are unhygienic. I am wedded to Science. I am too busy researching the secrets of the Universe.
Yet there were some secrets that Niko did not understand. How could a man like him, with iron control of his will, somehow lose his grip and let a weakness like 'love' creep in? If something ever happened to Clara, Niko realized, he wouldn't be able to live. He was caught.
Hook, line and sinker!
He turned onto a side street from which he could see the river, railroad bridge, and the generating plant at the edge of the dam. He would have liked to inspect the generating plant, just for professional curiosity, but now wasn't the time. The wooden floor boards creaked as he entered Grant's Pharmacy and went to the counter. “I need some painkillers, sir. Morphine, if you have it.”
The pharmacist gave him a sharp glance. “Where ya from, stranger?” he asked.
Niko didn't know what to say, so he just gave a bland smile. He waited for his order, but the pharmacist seemed to be busy in his back office, making a telephone connection.
A couple of women gave him sidelong glances. He wondered if he really did look like such a freak that everyone...
His eye fell on a stack of newspapers and he scanned the headlines.
Nikola Tesla: Public Enemy Number One,
the newspaper shouted
. Authorities believe renegade scientist Tesla is responsible for the recent attack on the New York Stock Exchange. Police are offering a reward of $10,000 for the capture of this nefarious arch-criminal. May be traveling with a female accomplice, or possibly a boy. Authorities warn that this man is armed and dangerous, carrying lethal electrical weapons of unknown type.
Beneath the headline, a picture of the villain Tesla stared out at him. The newspapermen had darkened his eyebrows and the shadows beneath, making him look as sinister as Dracula.
Niko decided to make a quick exit. He stepped outside, only to find himself surrounded by a hostile crowd.
“Hold it right there! Hands up!” A portly man in a striped suit, probably the Mayor, confronted him along with several police officers and a great many citizens. Several held shotguns and pistols uncomfortably close to Niko's face and other body parts.
“Here he is, Mr. Mayor,” cried Grant, the pharmacist. “He's that wicked scientist who's caused all the trouble!”
“What?” Niko tried to play innocent, while looking for an escape. He wished he had brought his
'lethal electrical weapons'
with him.
The Mayor held up a copy of the newspaper and compared the photo with the man who stood before him. “Yeah, you did good, Mr. Grant, that's him all right. Looks like you're a rich man.”
The Reverend came up for a closer look. “You sure that's him? This guy looks like a bum.”
“Yeah, he does now,” said the curly-haired blonde, “but give him a shave and you'll see.”
“Yeah, you never forget a gorgeous face like that!” The other girl
giggled.
Niko scowled.
What do you want to do with this gorgeous face...kiss it, or put it in a hangman's noose?
“Put your hands in the air, mister,” said one policeman. “You got any weapons? Bill, check and see if he's armed.”
Officer Bill searched Niko's pockets and found nothing but a small oscillator, the size of an alarm clock. He hastily let it drop on the ground as if it might suddenly explode.
Niko wondered how many of these folks he could knock over if he made a run for it. Whatever happened, he just hoped they'd leave Clara alone.
The townsfolk debated what to do with the notorious criminal. “He's wanted dead or alive. Which shall it be?”
“They oughta put you down like a mad dog, buddy!” The Mayor shook a finger in his face. “Hope they fry you on your own electric chair!”
“You've got me wrong, folks,” Niko protested. “I didn't invent the electric chair. That was Thomas Edison's doing!”
That only seemed to make them madder. “Listen here, Mister! Nobody bad-mouths the great Thomas Edison—he's a hero in this town!”
“Yeah,” another man said. “Tom Edison's movie studio's right up the road, in West Orange!”
“Why, Edison electrified this town,” said a white-bearded gent. “Installed us a gen'rator right on that there dam.”
“I highly doubt that,” said Niko. “But if you folks care about that generator, and your whole town, you'd better not lay a hand on me.”
“Really? And why is that, pray tell?” the Mayor asked.
“See that little gizmo your officer just threw on the street? It's an oscillator. Just like the one I used to cause an earthquake in New York City.” Niko regretted having to make himself sound even more evil, but what else could he do? “I almost brought down every building on Houston Street.”
“Good Lord.” The Mayor's eyes slid over to the device and he took a step back.
“You folks read the papers? They say I'm as brilliant as DaVinci—a hundred years ahead of my time. I've developed futuristic inventions you'd never believe. I invented Radio, you know. It works by invisible waves—and thoughts are invisible waves too. Did you know that I've perfected remote-control Mind Power?”
The people's eyes widened with astonishment. “What the devil...?”
“That oscillator is tuned to my mental frequency,” he told them. “If you folks get me upset, it might pick up my thoughts and set up resonant vibrations in that dam over there. The whole thing might crack right down the middle and wash away this entire town. So you listen to me, Mr. Mayor...it's up to you.” He gave the official his most piercing hypnotic stare. “You could turn your back and let me walk away peacefully...or you could risk having your fine village destroyed by a million gallons of water. It's your choice, sir.”
“Aw, he's bluffing,” said the pharmacist.
“Sounds like a load of horseshit to me,” the deliveryman agreed.
The Mayor wiped his forehead. “Uh...I don't know...”
People were backing away from the small device as if it were a hissing cobra.
“We're just recovering from last year's flood now,” a townsman reminded the Mayor. “We don't need no more trouble.”
“Look here, mister!” The mayor stalked up to Niko and shook a finger. “Just get the hell out of my town. And take that infernal ossa—whateveritis... with you!”
The police let go of his arms and gave him a shove, and the rest of the crowd melted away quicker than ice cream in July. Niko wasted no time grabbing the oscillator and dashing back to the Roadster.
He wiped sweat off his forehead and started the automobile.
“Niko?” Clara looked worried. “What's going on? I heard some noise back there. If I could walk, I'd have come right away. I hope you weren't in any trouble?”
“
Me? Trouble?
Oh, no.” He handed her the newspaper which he had picked up from the ground. “They just wanted to give me a brand-new necktie.”
“What?”
Clara read the headline and gave a low whistle. “Trouble is your middle name, sir. How'd you get away?”
Niko smiled. “I just used remote-control mind power.”
***
“Well,
now
what are we going to do?” Clara said as they left Browerville behind. “I let you out of my sight for a minute, and you practically get yourself lynched.”
He turned to her. “Clara...perhaps it would be better if you left.”
“What do you mean,
left?”
“I mean...” it hurt him to say it. “You'd be better off without me. You said it yourself—trouble follows me wherever I go.”
“That's why you need me. To get you out of trouble.”
“I mean it. Life with me is even more dangerous than with your Landsmen friends. If you stay with me, you could end up in jail or maybe dead. If you got out now...maybe you'd have a chance at a normal life.”