Goliath

EIGHTEEN

The theater of the Imperial Hotel was filling up; there were at least a hundred in the audience already. Deryn wondered if the Clanker boffin had invited them all, or if the British embassy had, or whether the news was spreading on its own across Tokyo.

The British ambassador was easy to spot, a man in a posh civilian suit surrounded by admirals and commodores. Not far away a dozen Japanese naval officers wore black tunics and hats with red piping. Deryn recognized other uniforms—French, Russian, even a handful of Italians, though Darwinist Italy had yet to join the war. A gaggle of boffins, European and Japanese, stood about in bowlers, some with recording frogs perched on their shoulders.

Of everyone there, only Deryn was alone. Dr. Barlow had abandoned her for the other boffins, and Bovril was sneaking beneath the chairs, listening for new snippets of language.

Most of the audience seemed to be reporters, some already snapping photos of the stage. All sorts of electrical apparatus waited there, metal spheres and glass tubes, coils of wire, a generator the size of a smokehouse, and a large glass bulb hanging from the ceiling. How Tesla had put all these contraptions together so quickly was beyond Deryn. The Leviathan had made good speed and had landed just before midnight, and the man had left in a whirlwind shortly after. He must have spent the whole night and morning hunting for electrical parts.

Deryn spotted Master Klopp off to one side, working on a tangle of wires. Hoffman stood beside him, tools at the ready. Alek had put his men at the disposal of the great inventor, of course. And at the moment, Alek himself was busy chatting to a group of officers in unfamiliar blue uniforms. Americans, perhaps.

Deryn was still surprised at her own words from that morning, about her and Alek being meant to be together. She still didn’t really believe any of his claptrap about providence. Blethering about destiny was simply a way for Alek to accept her as a girl, by fitting her into his grand plan to save the world. He’d swallowed it, of course, because deep down Alek knew that he was stronger with her than without.

The lights flickered, and the audience began to settle into their seats. Bovril returned to Deryn’s shoulder, and Dr. Barlow made her way back across the room, taking a seat beside her.

“Mr. Sharp, have I mentioned it’s good to see you so well dressed?”

Deryn fingered her shirt, which was made out of a thicker, softer cotton than she was used to. It fit marvelously, despite the tailors never having touched her.

“They take their tailoring seriously here, ma’am.”

“And a good thing too. You are in the presence of greatness.”

Deryn frowned. “I thought you didn’t like this bumrag.”

“Not Mr. Tesla, young man.” She gestured with a white-gloved hand. “There is Sakichi Toyoda, the father of Japanese mechanics. And, beside him, Kokichi Mikimoto, the first fabricator of shaped pearls. Clankers and Darwinists, working together.”

“To-yo-da,” Bovril said softly, separating each syllable.

“Better than fighting each other, I suppose,” Deryn said. “But what’s the point of all this? The Admiralty’s not even here to see it.”

“In a way, they are.” Dr. Barlow nodded her head toward the wings of the stage, where a Royal Navy officer sat at a telegraph key. “Tokyo is connected to London by underwater fiber. According to the ambassador, Lord Churchill himself has awoken early to follow the proceedings.”

Deryn frowned. The underwater fiber system, which stretched from Britain to Australia to Japan, was one of the more uncanny creations of Darwinism. Made from mile-long strands of living nervous tissue, it bound the British Empire together like a single organism, carrying coded messages along the ocean floor.

“But they won’t be able to see anything,” Deryn said.

“Mr. Tesla claims otherwise.” Dr. Barlow’s voice faded as the lights dimmed and a hush settled over the crowd.

A familiar tall figure strode to the center of the darkened stage, holding a long cylinder in one hand. He flourished it in the air, like a swordsman saluting, and then his voice boomed across the theater.

“Time is pressing, so I shall begin without prologue. I hold a glass tube full of incandescent gasses.” Tesla pointed at the ceiling. “And here is a wire conveying alternating currents of high potential. When I touch both…”

He took the wire in one hand, and the glass tube suddenly illuminated in the other. There was a slight gasp from the audience, and then a scattering of laughter, as if some of them had known the trick was coming.

Shadows shifted across Tesla’s features as he rested the glowing tube across his shoulder, like a phantasmal walking stick. “This is merely an electric light, of course, except for the novelty of using my body as a conductor. But it reminds us that electricity can travel through more than wires. Through the atmosphere, for example, or the Earth’s crust, and even the ether of interplanetary space.”

“Oh, dear,” Dr. Barlow said softly. “Not martians again.”

“Martians,” Bovril said, chuckling, and Deryn raised an eyebrow.

Tesla placed the tube at the edge of the stage, the light extinguishing the moment his fingers left it. He let go of the wire and straightened his jacket.

“In some ways our planet itself is a capacitor, a giant battery.” He reached up to touch the bulb hanging from the ceiling, and a light spread inside it. “In the center of this sphere is another, smaller, globe. Both are filled with luminous gases, and together they can show us the engine of our planet at work.”

The man fell silent then, standing back and saying nothing. The globe stayed lit, but nothing else happened as minutes passed in silence. Deryn shifted in her seat. It was a bit uncanny to see so many important people sitting quietly for this long.

Her mind began to drift, wondering why Dr. Barlow had mentioned martians. Did Tesla believe in them? It was one thing to call the great inventor a nutter, but quite another if he was truly mad.

Alek wanted to stop the war so badly, he was willing to believe any promise of peace. And after all he’d lost—his family, his country, and his home—how would he carry on if this hope were dashed as well? But there was not much she could do, Deryn supposed, except show him that there were other things to life besides saving the world.

A murmur went through the crowd, and she looked up. The light in the glass sphere had formed a shape, a tiny finger of lightning, just like those inside Tesla’s metal detector. The flicker was moving, sweeping slowly around the globe like the second hand on a clock.

“The rotation is clockwise, as always,” Tesla said. “Though in the Southern Hemisphere it would go in the other direction, I suppose. You see, this finger of light is set in motion by the spinning of our planet.”

Another murmur traveled across the room, a bit unsettled. Deryn frowned. How was that so different from a pendulum or a compass needle?

“But we are not limited to the brute forces of nature.” Tesla took a step closer to the hanging light, a small object in his hand. “With this magnet I can wrest control of this flicker from the earth itself.”

He stepped still closer, and the light stopped spinning. Tesla began to walk around the bulb, and the flicker began to move again, always pointing away from him, no matter how he paused or hurried.

“Strange, isn’t it? To think that one can aim lightning as easily as a pistol.” He pulled out his pocket watch and checked it. “But now it is time for a larger demonstration. Much larger. A few days ago I sent a message from the Leviathan to Tokyo by courier eagle. The message was forwarded by underwater fiber to London, and finally by radio waves to my assistants in New York, more than halfway around the world. There, a few minutes from now, they will follow my instructions.”

He signaled to Klopp, who began to make adjustments in one of the black boxes. A moment later all the devices onstage began to flicker and hum. Mr. Tesla stood among them, his hair standing on end like an angry cat’s. Deryn felt her own hairs tingle, as if a summer storm were in the air.

“The results will be visible on these instruments here,” Tesla said, then turned toward the Royal Navy officer at the telegraph key. “And also in the early morning sky of London, if you would kindly ask Mr. Churchill and the Sea Lords to step to a window?”

Another murmur went through the room, and Deryn whispered to the lady boffin, “What’s he on about?”

“His machine in New York is going to send a signal into the air. Like a radio wave, but far more powerful.” Dr. Barlow leaned closer. “It’s daylight here, so we need instruments to see its effects. But in London the sun isn’t up yet.”

“You mean, he thinks Goliath can change the sky?”

The lady boffin nodded silently, and Deryn stared at the stage, where needles of light had begun to flicker from every object. Even Mr. Tesla’s pocket watch was glowing, and a buzzing filled the air, like the bees in the gut of the Leviathan when they needed feeding.

“The transmission will begin in ten seconds,” Tesla said, then snapped his watch closed. “It will not take long to reach us.”

“Transmission,” Bovril said, shifting unhappily. The loris began to keen softly, and suddenly the buzzing wasn’t so bad in Deryn’s ear. She reached up to scratch the beastie’s head gratefully.

For a long moment nothing happened, and Deryn let herself hope that the experiment was failing. The great Tesla would be humiliated, and all this yackum about going to America would end.

But then the fingers of lightning in the hanging globe grew stronger, flickering across the inside surface of the glass. Then they spun aimlessly for a moment, then turned strong and steady, pointing to the left side of the stage.

All the other instruments had come to life, filling the theater with light. The glass tubes were filled with rainbows of color, the metal spheres covered with a thousand needles of electricity. The antennae on Klopp’s black box had erupted, sending shoots of lightning climbing up them, only to sputter out in the air. The officer at the telegraph still tapped away, the buttons on his coat alight with tiny sparks.

Gradually the countless fingers of light began to align, all of them pointed to the left. Deryn could feel the hairs on her head pulling in that direction.

“North-northeast,” Dr. Barlow muttered. “Directly toward New York, by great circle.”

“As you can see,” Tesla cried above the buzzing, “I am able to control the currents in this room, even from ten thousand kilometers away. Imagine a thunderstorm brought to heel at such a distance. Or even the electrical charges of the earth’s atmosphere itself, focused and aimed like a searchlight!”

Bovril was burbling madly. The creature’s fur stood on end, and its eyes were open wider than Deryn had ever seen.

“Don’t worry, beastie,” she said. “He’s on our side.”

“Let’s hope so,” Dr. Barlow said.

Tesla lifted his hands into the air, waving them to and fro. Tendrils of lightning clung to his fingertips, but then went shooting off in the same direction—north-northeast.

“This is the power of Goliath, that no one on earth, Clanker or Darwinist, can escape. So we all must learn to share the globe, or perish together!”

He waved a hand, and Klopp cut a master switch. All the lightning disappeared at once, leaving the room in darkness. The silence was quickly filled with gasps and mutterings. Then came a halting applause that slowly grew in strength.

A thousand flickers seemed to hover in the air, burned like sunbeams into Deryn’s vision. Through them she saw Tesla reaching up to grab the hanging wire again. He picked up the simple glass tube, which sprang to life.

“Any word from the Admiralty?” he asked, silencing the applause.

The Royal Navy officer stood up from his telegraph, a piece of paper in his quivering hand. “Lord Churchill and the Sea Lords send their greetings, and wish to report that your experiment was a success. Subtle but strange colors appeared in the dawn sky over London.”

The crowd went dead silent.

“They offer hearty congratulations.” The officer cleared his throat. “Pardon me, ladies and gentlemen, but the rest of the message is for the captain of the Leviathan.”

Dr. Barlow leaned back into her seat. “Well, that’s not much of a mystery, is it, Mr. Sharp? It looks as though we’re headed for New York.”

“New York,” Bovril said thoughtfully, and began to smooth its frizzled fur.