The Tesla Legacy

Chapter 35

Quantum studied the elevated train tracks. He was at Tenth Avenue and Thirtieth Street. The tracks above him hadn’t been used for years, and they were due to be opened as another part of the elevated High Line park next year, but for now they were empty.

Behind him trains rattled along the tracks at the West Side Yard, and in front of him the traffic on Thirtieth Street roared by. He’d picked this busy location because nobody would notice him standing around with his hand in his pocket. He’d scouted the area, and he’d seen no surveillance cameras that spied on this particular spot. He was invisible, a rare thing in the city these days.

He’d sell the device to Ash soon, but first he wanted to know what price to set. If the device worked, and he could prove it, then the $100K on offer was too low. If it didn’t, he could collect his Bitcoins and leave Ash holding a hundred-year-old hoax. He smiled. It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy than Ash.

For a test subject, he wanted something that was big and dramatic enough to show to Ash later, but not something that would cause a huge loss of life. That would attract too much attention. This unopened part of the High Line park was a perfect testing ground.

Steel support columns soared up from ground level to the tracks above. They’d been built in the 1930s and abandoned in the 1980s. After their closure, people had tried to get the tracks torn down. That hadn’t worked. A grassroots movement had worked to have the elevated tracks converted into a park. A lot of money had been spent, the park was named High Line, and now people wandered around up there enjoying nature. This particular set of tracks hadn’t been opened to the public yet. Nobody was up there. They were waiting for the grass to grow or something.

He patted the riveted steel affectionately. It had stood for a long time, and the time had come to see if he could bring it down. From his backpack he took wooden clamps and attached the base of the device to the steel beam. He’d chosen wood since it would resonate at a different frequency than the steel.

Before he turned the device on, he paused. If the statements that Tesla gave when he was an old man were true, then when the Oscillator hit the right frequency for long enough the steel column would shatter like a wine glass next to an opera singer. Others had tried to build the device from the description in Tesla’s early patent, but it had never worked. Maybe he’d sabotaged the patent on purpose, and this device would work.

With a shrug, he turned the device on and started to tune it. He’d looked up the resonant frequency of steel, and he dialed it in now. A few minutes later, the steel shivered the tiniest bit, as if cold.

A quick glance around assured him that no one cared what he was up to. He loved the self-absorption of New Yorkers, and he was going to miss them when he left. Maybe he could come back in a couple of years.

He sat with his back against the beam and went online. He’d bought a new burner phone after he’d ditched the last one. He logged into the darknet and cycled through the chat rooms Spooky used. Geezer, who usually visited often, hadn’t been around since yesterday. Did he suspect that Ash or Quantum might have recovered the device? It seemed to mean a lot to him, although Quantum wasn’t sure why. Geezer wasn’t the type to knock things down — he liked to lecture people on the error of their ways like some fusty professor.

Geezer hadn’t been around, but Ash had. He’d left coded messages for Quantum. He wanted him to turn over the device as per their agreement. He didn’t seem upset by Joe’s injuries. The guy hadn’t died, yet, although he was “in serious condition” according to various online news sources. Quantum hoped he pulled through. There’d be less fuss.

A train pulled into the train yard next door, but he didn’t pay it any mind. Best way to remain invisible in New York was to mind your own business, especially by staring at the screen of a phone. Everyone was a phone zombie these days.

The steel behind him quivered. He pressed his back harder against it. He felt a quick pulse through his T-shirt. The steel had come alive.

This was as far as MythBusters had gotten. When they built their own Oscillator and hooked it up to a bridge, the steel vibrated, but nothing else happened. Or at least that’s what they said on the show. If it had started to affect the bridge’s structure, he bet they would have covered that up. Not a good idea to broadcast how to knock down bridges.

He had to figure out a way to get the Bitcoins before he dropped off the device. He didn’t trust Ash. He’d wanted to believe in him as a crusader for the environment and freedom, but after Ash had threatened to expose his identity, he had no choice but to view him as a crook on a power trip. Or maybe a powerful guy on a power trip. Dangerous either way.

The steel behind him shivered more violently now. That hadn’t happened on MythBusters.

He stood and stared up at the structure above. The tracks themselves seemed to shiver, as if they, too, were affected by the oscillation in this one beam. He touched the device, trying to decide whether to turn it off, and it burned his fingers.

He sucked on his fingers, trying to decide what to do. If he turned it off now, all he’d know was that the device caused low-level vibrations in steel. That wasn’t particularly valuable or interesting.

An ominous crack sounded from above. He jerked his head up. Rust and dirt rained down on him. The column creaked.

His jaw dropped open. He hadn’t really expected the device to work. Another crack sounded from the elevated tracks, and the pieces of rust and dirt were larger than before.

Good enough. He tried to turn the device off. The damn dial wouldn’t turn. Hard to believe that the famous Nikola Tesla had built something with such an obvious flaw. He unscrewed the clamps and caught the Oscillator in his shirt before it hit the pavement. The creaking slowed as he dumped the hot device in his bag.

A siren sounded down the street, heading right toward him. He cut across the street and walked until he found a good working-class bar that smelled of beer and wood.

He ordered a shot of whiskey and drank it in one gulp. The bartender, a slight man wearing a denim shirt straight out of the seventies, held up the bottle to ask if he wanted another. He nodded, but let the second shot sit on the bar.

Sirens converged on the elevated tracks. It sounded as if they were going to exactly the spot where he had attached the device.

He swallowed the second shot of whiskey. The device in his bag was the most powerful thing he’d ever held. Nikola Tesla had been right. It could bring down the Empire State Building, or anything else.

Did he really want to give someone like Ash that power?