Veil of Time: A Paranormal-ESP Thriller (The Wizards Series Book 4) Page 18
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Libby found a clump of blackberry vines. Most of the berries were gone, eaten by animals that liked them as much as Libby herself did. The vines covered an area that was slightly larger than the yard surrounding Grandpa Shorty’s old ranch house, and there were a lot of ripe berries in the middle of the berry patch. Animals hadn’t been willing to brave the thorns, but then animals couldn’t levitate.
Libby could, and did. Floating above the berries, she picked and ate them until her hunger was gone. Indeed, there was now a feeling of being too full! She suddenly remembered her mother’s advice a long time ago: don’t overeat. Especially don’t eat too much fruit! It was too late now to worry about that.
Libby floated up from the berry patch, soon leaving the trees below. Orienting herself, she picked a mountain peak that was probably five miles away. Not far, but every little bit helped. She formed her bubble and teleported.
The first peak was followed immediately by another. Libby worked her way slowly through the mountain range. Each short teleport was followed by a moment’s pause, long enough for her to search for other telepaths. The lack of contact was discouraging, but Libby was not disappointed. Now that she understood she was reversing her trip into the past, she would get home by taking one slow step at a time.
Across the valley lay another mountain range, the peaks blue with distance. Picking the tallest peak in the range, Libby teleported again.
The session of picking and eating berries inevitably brought on a stomachache. This was soon followed by an intense bout of diarrhea. Libby waited it out, cleaned up afterward, and levitated until she was high enough to clear the mountains.
Far to the west, the sun was going down. Time for one more teleport, then look for someplace she could spend the night. And maybe something for supper, as long as it wasn’t blackberries!
#
T had gone back to his hotel after breakfast. Organizing his notes, recopying the information to remove any indication that he was describing journeys back in time, took more time than expected. The knock on the door was unexpected.
“Tom, I’m anxious to get to Wardenclyffe. The workmen are there by now and I need to be there to oversee the final construction details. I realize that without your help I wouldn’t be working on my transmitter now. I’m grateful for all you’ve done. I don’t know how urgent your problem is, and since I won’t have time to work on it while construction is ongoing, I’d like to discuss your mathematical question now if it’s convenient.”
“Come on in, Nikola. I’ve arranged it in a number of ways, beginning with the larger numbers and the associated numbers I derived from those. Perhaps it would be best if...”
“Allow me to decide that, Tom. If I have questions, you can then explain where you got the numbers.”
Tesla studied the figures, then muttered something. Taking out a gold mechanical pencil, he twisted the upper portion to extend the lead. Making notes, he finally sat back.
“Tom, is there an order that’s not revealed in your notes? For example, did you take the notes in sequence, such that they began with the lowest number and continued to the uppermost?”
“Not exactly. I arranged them according to what seemed to me to be the best sequence to present to you.”
“There seems to be a variable that’s missing. May I ask how you arrived at this? I assume the ‘m’ you use is some version of distance? Meters, perhaps?”
“They’re miles, Nikola,” T admitted.
“The numbers, if they’re some measure of time, indicate that you’ve used a revolutionary means of travel, or at least of reckoning time required to travel between places. I tried to integrate the third set of associated numbers, all positive integers with limits between 80 and 88 degrees, but they don’t affect the other numbers in any meaningful way. I tried organizing the numbers using a simple algebraic approach, then applied the calculus of Newton. When neither approach worked, I used Leibniz’s method. That produced no better results. I should mention that there are different ways such methods can be applied and I did so using the approaches I’m most familiar with.
“There seems to be something missing. Perhaps, if I exclude the degrees you list in your notes, it begins to make a kind of sense. Even then, Newton’s method produces not a smooth curve but a zone within which the solution is to be found. Leibniz integral method...well, I don’t like what I’m getting. These are real numbers, I take it? Do they have something to do with your mine, perhaps shaft inclinations and depth? But reckoning such in miles, that isn’t possible. Not even the deepest mines penetrate so deep within the earth. Can you share more information? I have no intention of revealing secrets about your mine.”
“It’s not the mine, Nikola. About not sharing secrets, does that apply to other things I might mention?”
“Certainly. You saved my life and you’ve been my benefactor. It would be churlish of me to repay you by revealing your business secrets!”
“Not business secrets, not exactly. Nikola, you’re a scientist and an engineer. You have to be flexible when you encounter facts outside your preconceived notions, do you not?”
“That’s true. I must begin with some concept, of course, but that changes as I progress from concept to engineering the final expression of that concept. I expected my rotating electro-magnetic field would drag the rotor of my motor with it, but choosing the diameter of the rotor, the bearings, and the clearance between the rotor and the coils of the stationary field, all those required that I compromise my ideal solution to accommodate the limits of material strengths and manufacturing tolerances. It does no good to design something that cannot be manufactured, you know. That’s why I’ve not achieved greater success with my turbine; the vanes flex excessively, first opening the gap between the rotors, then closing it. It’s very frustrating.”
“You should remain seated, Nikola, and listen very carefully.”
Tesla looked puzzled for a moment. “Surely, Tom, it’s not that much of a surprise...”
“Nikola, do you recall that book I showed you?”
“Yes, but Tom, that’s no more than foolishness. I explained...”
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Nikola, but it’s not as foolish as you believe. What would you think if I told you I came here from the future?”
“Tom, you’re being delusion. I fear it must be the result of that discharge you experienced from my device. You received an unusual amount of stimulation, first at Wardenclyffe, then at my laboratory. I have myself suffered temporary loss of memory after a treatment. Such things are only worthwhile because of the intense feeling of well-being that follows a treatment.”
T looked at Tesla. “How would you explain someone with the ability to transcend gravity? To float above the ground, in other words?”
“More nonsense, Tom. You begin to sound like the purveyors of occult superstition that claim to contact the dead. It’s all humbug, of course. If it were real, then science would have discovered it by now, I’m convinced of that. No, no, they’re all charlatans.” Tesla wagged his head in disappointment. “I’m astonished and dismayed that you could have been taken in by such scoundrels.”
Tesla stopped, frozen. Across the room, T floated up, stopping when his head brushed against the high ceiling. Tesla looked on openmouthed as T somersaulted in the air, then rotated until he was floating level with the floor, face down. Slowly he rolled until he was facing up, then continued until he was once again facing downward. Gently drifting to the floor, once again upright, he looked directly at Tesla.
“One more proof, Nikola. Would you stand, please? I promise no harm will come to you.”
Tesla stood, eyes wide. Had he even thought about what T had said? Tesla was unusually tall, always looking down when he spoke to T. Now, he was forced to look up.
“Magic,” Tesla whispered. “It’s not possible.”
“It’s not magic, Nikola. It’s science, just not the science of your time. But I forget myself; you’ve always loo
ked down when you spoke, being taller than most. Let me correct that.”
“Ah. That’s better, Tom. I don’t know how you performed the trick, but I must say it was very convincing!”
“Nikola, look down at the floor.”
Tesla’s eyes rolled back and he fainted.
#
Libby found a shallow cliff-hollow similar to the one where she’d spent the previous night. This one, however, had never been inhabited. The floor was loose dirt, blown in during windstorms. The cave’s roof showed no sign of old fires, the usual indicator that ancient people had spent time here. The floor sloped gently to the edge, hanging over the face of the cliff. The overhang would have been dangerous to climbers, probably why the Anasazi had never built in the cave.
The diarrhea had finally run its course. Libby drank from a spring that flowed from beneath the cliff before levitating to the hollow. Scooping out a shallow depression for her hip, she settled in for the night. She felt no need for a fire; the cave was protected and the afternoon sun had warm the rocks and the dirt that covered the floor. Pillowing her head on her arm, Libby listened to distant coyotes howling. The lonely sound reflected from hill to hill and was soon answered by other calls. The sounds lulled her and she fell asleep.
#
Ray levitated to his prepared fire-slab in the Sandias. It was the work of a few minutes to build a fire and ensure that there were enough gaps between the rocks for him to view the light from a distance. As soon as the fire was going well, he levitated again, forming his bubble.
From the Sandias, he flew west toward Mount Taylor. The trip took almost an hour. Even with the shielding bubble to break the wind, he was shivering by the time he reached the mountain, and an afternoon cloud had dumped two inches of snow over everything, complicating his search. Finally he spotted the circle of boulders he’d assembled and the pile of brush and broken logs beside it.
He knocked the snow off several logs and piled them in the firepit, then lit them. Pausing for a few minutes, he looked toward the distant Sandias. The fire on the peak had burned low, but a yellow pinpoint, easily visible against the blue of the mountains, marked the spot.
Ray understood that he would have to go further back in time if he was to find Libby. The easiest way to do this, and at the same time make sure he didn’t go so far into the past that he missed Libby, was to make the journey in slow steps. The two fires would enable him to do that. He’d teleported east by southeast from Reno when he went back in time, so he would teleport in the same direction and hope that this took him farther into the past. Libby, however, was not only back in time, she was likely farther west. She might be in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, or Nevada, depending on where her teleport had stopped. It was possible that she’d gone farther than intended and ended up in California. There was no way of knowing.
For that matter, if her direction had been off, she could be north or south of the line between Houston and Reno. She could be somewhere in Mexico if she’d gone too far south, Idaho or Oregon if she’d gone too far north.
Ray refused to think about any other alternative. Libby was a bright girl, she wouldn’t have made such a huge mistake. She had probably ended up in Nevada. Where, though, that was the question. In any case, if he was to find her, Ray needed to remain in the geographic area.
To do this, he needed to travel east, which would take him further back in time, but still remain in the west where Libby was. A simple solution had occurred to him. He’d thought it through, and losing the job at the Bucket finalized the decision. It was time to begin.
He would travel back and forth between Mount Taylor and the Sandias. The distance involved was far enough to have a discernible effect but short enough to move him into the past by short steps. The slower levitations that took him back to his starting point would take no more than an hour. He would teleport east, going back in time until he found Libby. After that, they would try to return to their home timeline.
He should be able to go a little farther back in time each night and no one would be able to observe what he was doing. He would need to rest at some point, and the easiest way to accomplish his goal was to sleep during the day, begin the teleport-levitation circuit at sundown. Levitate back to Mount Taylor each evening, light the fire atop the peak, then repeat the cycle. He would replenish the fuel as needed, keeping the bonfires lighted.
A possible problem had occurred to him while using this approach, at least in the beginning. He would be occupying the same time frame where an earlier version of himself existed, thereby creating the possibility of a time paradox. Would he hear himself attempting to contact someone soon after he’d arrived? He hadn’t found a contact in this time, so he needed to avoid doing so now. This meant he needed to make a first long teleport east, sending him further into the past before he’d arrived at the small mining settlement, before starting the slow, methodical effort to find Libby.
But how far east? Where should he go? There were only a few mountains between Albuquerque and central Texas, so teleporting should be safe enough. San Antonio was probably at least seven hundred miles away. He’d seen a sign on Interstate 10 just east of El Paso, and the distance was almost six hundred miles from there. Maybe it would be better to try teleporting to someplace not quite so far away, to ensure that he didn’t go too far back into the past and miss Libby? Abilene or San Angelo would work. He’d driven through San Angelo once, so perhaps that should be his destination. The teleport would be virtually instantaneous, but levitating back to the Sandias would take hours.
It might be possible to make the trip in short legs, remaining in one place only a few seconds while he got his bearings. This reduced the odds that he’d be present at the earlier time when he’d sought to make contact with Libby telepathically.
Ray formed his bubble and tried to remember what New Mexico looked like on a map. He’d visited most of the state during the time when he was avoiding law officers, and the experience helped.
Portales first, then Lubbock, and finally San Angelo; that should leave him with a cushion of time, assuming Libby had tried to reach Reno in a single teleport. Indeed, assuming that she’d managed to make it most of the way, the distance she’d traveled while teleporting was only a little over three hundred miles more than Ray intended. She’d done it in one effort, while Ray was doing the same thing in steps, but hopefully it wouldn’t make a difference.
Teleporting east in stages took less than five minutes. Returning to New Mexico from San Angelo by levitation took him the rest of the night and then some. His bubble kept the wind off, but even so he was chilled to the bone and exhausted when he finally arrived. Ray found sticks and lit a small fire and warmed himself. His food and coffee were gone, as was the pile of wood he’d collected.
Ray muttered under his breath. His food cache was sometime in the future, as was the firewood. He ate a piece of the jerky he’d kept in his pocket, keeping the other piece for later.
Waking at dusk, Ray teleported east. This time he looked for the tallest peak he could see in the Sandias, South Sandia Peak. The fire location he’d selected was in the same direction, but on a smaller peak at the edge of the mountains. Ray got his bearings, fixed his attention on the peak, and teleported.
He grinned. What would the locals think if they saw what he was doing? Would they believe the Apaches were off the reservation again? And what of the Indians themselves? How would they interpret the flying man if they saw him?
Ray tried a last time to reach Libby by expanding his telepathic sense, but there was no contact. Hopefully, he was now farther back in time, before the time when he’d first arrived in the past. He would find Libby, although there was no way of predicting how long it would take.
Chapter Twenty-Two
T laid Tesla on his bed, then used a dampened washcloth to wipe Tesla’s face.
“What happened...no, wait. You said something fantastic and I fainted. I dreamed I was floating unsupported in the air! I’m sorry, Tom; my fri
ends have warned me repeatedly about overwork. I fear I’m suffering the breakdown they predicted. It’s embarrassing that you had to witness my failure.”
“Not failure, Nikola, and no breakdown. I didn’t expect you to collapse, but the easiest way to convince you that I am what I say was to demonstrate my abilities.”
“I’ve always denied the existence of magic or wizards. Can you really commune with the dead, Tom? Only God has that capability, and yet you say you can do those things too. I need a glass of water, Tom. My whole concept of what’s possible and what is not has been shaken.”
T got the water and waited while Tesla drank.
“I don’t think it’s possible to contact the dead. The whole concept of an undying soul seems very unlikely to me. Consider for a moment the changes that we undergo; is the soul the same as what you had as a child? Is it what you will have in another twenty years? We change, our personalities develop and our capabilities increase; no religion, no philosophy I’m aware of takes that into account.”
“Are you then an unbeliever, Tom? To deny the existence of a soul is to deny faith itself.”
“If there is a soul, it must be something like a ledger that contains all the events, good or bad, that have happened during a person’s life. Perhaps that explains the belief that your soul is weighed in the balance when you die. But in any case, it doesn’t allow for contacting ghosts, does it?’
“I must think on this, Tom. You raise interesting questions. But it does explain your mathematical questions to an extent, while raising still other questions. How did you come by the numbers you recorded?”
“I traveled from city to city while at the same time going back in time. To clarify, I went from one city to another and arrived there several years before I’d departed from the first city.”