Before Tomorrowland, page 15
Earhart couldn’t think of anything to say to that, either.
“I know,” Clara said. “My son hates it when I try to be funny. I guess that’s most kids, right? I try to keep positive, but what’s positive to a teenage boy, anyway?” She hardly let that land before she turned her head to the ceiling. “What is this place?”
Earhart shook her head and chuckled. How might she explain something that transmuted your body into electrical energy and sent it across the globe through cables? “This is the, uh, this is the wire transfer room. This was to have been the second-to-last stop on your comic book scavenger hunt. Perhaps you’d be using it right now to travel to the grand finale, if it wasn’t for the fact that we’re suspending the reveal.”
“They’re suspending it?”
“Well, probably. Plus Ultra leadership’s talking it over tonight.”
Clara looked around at the machinery; the rods, the stage, the podium. “I think there was a display back at the hotel about this, but I didn’t check it out. How does it work? I mean, what does it do?”
“It’s a teleport. It takes you places instantly.”
“No,” Clara said, with an incredulous smile. “Really?”
Earhart nodded. “It gives me the willies, but it works. C’mere, I’ll show you.” Earhart ushered her to the podium and punched in a code. A series of numbers came up on the display. “See there? That’s latitude, longitude, plus elevation. It’s got a fail-safe so you don’t end up in a mountain or something. There’s a bunch of these programmed in for different places in our network, or, if you’re feeling lucky, you can just type one in.”
Clara kept her eyes on the display. “Where was it going to take me?” she asked.
Earhart wasn’t sure about telling her much more. On the other hand, if the leadership council intended to suspend the dress rehearsal indefinitely, they’d probably have to keep Clara and her boy quarantined for the duration, in which case Plus Ultra’s secrets would be nigh impossible to keep from them. Either way, their lives were set to be very different. The amount of power Plus Ultra gave itself to impact all of mankind staggered and even alarmed Earhart. To serve Plus Ultra in their giant endeavors, you had to force yourself not to think about how giant they really were.
“It was going to take you to a hangar on Long Island,” she said. “The last part of the reveal was supposed to be a flight to the other world. You would climb into a plane and the plane would autopilot you there and back. Pretty wild, huh?”
She noticed the woman had become quiet. Clara put her hand out to steady herself. Earhart jumped to support her as she stumbled. “Mrs. Brackett? Here, sit here,” she said, and she led Clara over to the stage steps. After she helped her sit, she kept a hand on her arm. “We have a doctor on base, I’ll go get him—”
“No, no, I’m okay,” Clara said. “I’ll just sit here a moment and I’ll be fine. I can’t believe…I can’t believe I’m here talking to you like this, what a crazy thing.”
“You’re sure you don’t want the doctor?” asked Earhart.
Clara waved her hand at Earhart. “This is par for the course,” she said, shifting. “I hate doctors.”
“All right.” Earhart sat down next to her.
Clara took long, slow breaths. “When I was in the hotel, I saw this display, you know, on the ‘medicine of the future.’ So many of these amazing technologies, you’ve already invented them…” Earhart braced herself for the question she knew Clara was about to ask. The woman spoke casually, like she could have been talking about anything. “Do they have a cure for cancer already, too?”
Earhart shook her head. Clara nodded and shrugged, letting her off the hook.
“Are they going to give you a new one?”
Mrs. Brackett was pointing at Amelia’s beat-up flight jacket. It had been in rough shape before her tangle with Henry, and now it had a couple of pretty bad tears. She held one of her arms out and twisted it, looking the sleeve over.
“Well…scientists don’t care much about clothes. That’s okay, though. This jacket’s saved my life at least twice since I got it. It’d be bad luck to replace it.”
“Can I ask one more thing?” said Clara.
Earhart thumbed one of the rips and turned back to Clara. She knew the rest of this question, too, but it was a lot easier to answer. “You want to know what happened to me?”
Clara nodded.
“Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know myself what happened until today?”
That definitely confused Clara. “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know the truth.” Earhart stared across the pavilion. “I was on a jump. That’s what we call a dimensional crossing. My round-the-world flight with Fred Noonan was a smokescreen for the real work, testing new ways to do these jumps. It’s actually extremely difficult to get to the other world. The first generation of Plus Ultra used bombs to blow temporary portals in the sky until the second generation realized they were poisoning the earth with radioactive fallout. There was a whole drama around this, but long story short, the third generation of Plus Ultra committed to a plan of developing better, safer ways to get to the other world. We were testing an idea that Tesla actually came up with around the turn of the century, very hypothetical—”
“The particle beam,” said Clara, referring to the explanation in the comic book.
“No,” said Earhart. “I didn’t think it was wise to share all of our secrets at once, so I made the guys fudge some details. I mean, what if something went horribly wrong and our greatest treasures fell into the wrong hands?” They both laughed hard, and it felt good. “The technique we were testing was called ‘the running start.’ Freddy was with me. We had a Faustus on board, too. We attempted a jump in South America, then another in India, then another in Asia. Nothing was working. We got to our final jump theater, the Central Pacific. The fabric between dimensions is quite thin in spots there, so it provided our best opportunity to make a jump. Just as we reached the right speed, we were hit. Everyone assumed we died in a crash. What really happened was that we punched into the other world. I ejected. The robot survived the crash. Freddy…”
Earhart lapsed into silence. She smiled nervously and blushed, embarrassed by her lack of composure. “We waited to be rescued. I tried to keep busy. Charted the land with Faustus. Checked on the old labs from back in the heyday of the atomic era of Plus Ultra. Plus Ultra finally got through again, using this new bit of business which I barely understand called the Grid. By then, it had been a year, and the world had their story about what happened, and we stuck to it.”
Clara shook her head in amazement. “Your husband must have been shattered.”
“He was always popular,” she said. “He probably had a few options even before I disappeared. I don’t begrudge him that. He never begrudged me. I think he might be more shattered if we follow through with all of this and everyone learns that I’m actually alive and well.”
“You’re going to tell everyone the truth? About you?”
“That’s the plan,” she said, unable to hide her mixed feelings on the matter. “We imagine much of what we want to share with the public will be hard to accept, despite so many years of trying to stretch their imagination for it. They need living proof. And Howard Hughes needs someone the public can trust to sell them in the new tourism business he’s bound and determined to launch. Say hello to the public face of TransDimensional Airways, offering flights daily to The New Frontier!”
She hoped Clara might laugh. She didn’t. “Seems like a lonely life, being part of all this with so many secrets. I don’t know if I could do it.”
Earhart gently elbowed her in the ribs. “A little too late, isn’t it?”
Bare feet smacking against concrete approached. Clara’s son, Lee, ran out of the hallway and his cheeks were flushed. “There you are!” he shouted at his mother. Tesla walked behind him. The boy hurried over and apologized to Earhart: “She always does this. Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Mom?” His speech was full of drama, but Earhart could see his heart wasn’t in it. There was a sense of wonder in his eyes, and she thought his mom must have noticed that, too.
“I know, I’m hopeless,” said Clara. “What have you got there?”
Lee showed her the pamphlet in his hand. He turned to Tesla, who stood a few paces behind, letting them have their family moment. “Well, I was looking for you, and then Mr. Tesla showed me their spaceship display area. You know these people have actually been to the moon?”
Clara looked at Earhart. “Is that a fudge, too?”
Earhart winked.
Lee was a few dozen excited words into a description of a spaceship called the Capricorn when a blast of air from the stage assaulted them with an ear-rattling whoosh! Earhart turned to calm the Bracketts as tendrils of electricity branched out from the the dome’s metal rods and met the spikes protruding from the pod. Earhart raced to the control panel to track the energy levels and make sure the DNA packages of each traveler was kept separate from each other. She saw silhouettes of three men beginning to form inside the chamber. They solidified into three-dimensional forms, then stepped through the light and into the room. The sound and fury subsided, leaving Einstein, Szilard, and H.G. Wells standing above them.
“Gentlemen,” said Tesla. “Welcome to the fairgrounds.”
Einstein, a handkerchief to his mouth, skipped the pleasantries. “Henry Stevens?!”
“I do love it when you read the memos,” said Earhart.
“Once again, we see it is appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity,” said Einstein, directing the comment at Szilard.
“Don’t start with me, Albert. Would someone explain to me how that boy can possibly be alive?!”
“When I find Rotwang,” said Earhart. “I’ll make sure to tell you, right after I beat the truth out of him.”
Wells belched a juicy belch that scented the room with quease. Wells, whom they all called Herbert to annoy him, apologized and fussed his scarf back into place. The famed science fiction author was Plus Ultra’s lead in media ventures and he tended to squeak the loudest since he couldn’t otherwise compete with Einstein and Tesla’s status. “These transfers,” he said, “are such a terror on the digestion.”
“What do you need to digest at one in the morning?” asked Szilard.
Earhart studied Tesla’s face. “Where are the rest?” she asked. The upcoming meeting was supposed to include Plus Ultra’s second-tier leaders from around the world: forty-six men and women, in all.
Tesla walked to the podium to check the system’s status. His face drained of color, and his wiry fists shook at his sides as he turned to fume at Wells. “The transfer system’s overloaded. Damn you, Herbert, why didn’t you wait your turn?”
Wells wrinkled his brow in affront. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve told you a hundred times! The system cannot sustain simultaneous transfers over such distances. It will be hours before the others can get through!”
Earhart looked at the control panel and saw Tesla was right. SYS. ERROR. 11A. OVERLOAD. “They’ll have to patch in from their MFDs,” said Tesla. “There’s a video link in the study; we’ll meet there.”
The trio of newly arrived Plus Ultra men strode past the Bracketts without acknowledging them, except for Einstein, who gave Lee a quick “Hello” on his way out of the room. Clara, who must have recognized the men on sight, nudged her son. “Know who that was?” she asked.
Lee frowned. “Who? The guy who just got in trouble?”
His mom pursed her lips and slowly shook her head back and forth. “See, you don’t even know what H.G. Wells looks like.”
Earhart led them out of the pavilion and they caught up with the Plus Ultra leaders. When the hallway reached the Bracketts’ sleeping quarters, Earhart put a hand out in front of them. “Please,” she said. “I have to add my voice to the boys’ club. You go get some sleep; I’ll be nearby if you need anything.”
“Just a moment, Amelia,” said Tesla, overhearing her. “I’d like the Bracketts along to our meeting, please. I want to hear some civilian impressions of our issues.”
“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” said Szilard. For once, Earhart agreed with him. She wouldn’t have minded their company, but Clara needed rest, and this wasn’t a conversation for newcomers.
Tesla wouldn’t back down. “If all that comes from the expense and time put into our dress rehearsal is the genuine outside perspective of one soul, that is at least something,” he said.
Earhart shrugged and gestured for Clara and Lee to follow. In spite of the late hour and the troubles of their day, Clara seemed as excited as ever.
They passed the robotics hub, where a surplus of Faustus units “slept” and recharged inside rows of glass canisters. A few were still up and about, checking base security or standing by, awaiting orders. Earhart again noticed that Lee seemed skittish around Faustus, just as he had on board the Pulsar.
“You don’t have to stay up for this,” said Clara, reaching for his shoulder. “You want to do what Ms. Earhart said, and get some rest?”
Lee shook his head: “No, I want to hear what’s happening.” He made an obvious effort to ignore the Faustus staff. “You can’t have all the fun on this trip.”
They entered the study through a steel door, heavy as a bank vault’s portal. The room was rectangular, with low amber lights and tall bookshelves surrounding an oval table and ten chairs. Twenty videoconference screens spanned the walls, each set into the middle of the shelves. Five or six screens were already lit up with the faces of remote Plus Ultra leaders calling in for the meeting. Howard Hughes stood at one end of the table, wearing a robe, slippers, and ascot and receiving a glass of milk from one of his dull-eyed, tux-clad android butlers. Another robo-servant was removing a crystal decanter of whiskey and shot glasses from one of the shelves. He placed them in front of Tesla, who took position at the other end of the table.
After most of the screens had blinked to life and the butler had poured each of them a whiskey, Tesla called the meeting to order by downing his shot and slamming his glass on the tabletop.
“Esteemed colleagues, present and elsewhere. Let me begin this meeting by stating that no one here has any less of a voice than another…with the exception of our two guests, of course.” He smiled at Lee and Clara, but Earhart could see that statement made them uncomfortable. Tesla wasn’t much for social graces, even when he tried. “Before I open the floor to discussion, I’ll share my own feelings on the matter of our dress rehearsal and the broader revelation of the other world.”
Tesla gingerly stepped away from the head of the table and began to walk its perimeter, wringing his frail hands as he did. Earhart recognized this nervous energy in him and worried where it was going to lead. “Since the discovery of the parallel dimension, our progress has accelerated by leaps and bounds. We’ve applied our discoveries to the development of technology that boggles even my imagination. We’ve shared some of our riches with the world. But we’ve held back on many more, for fear the public wasn’t ready for them.”
He reached the far end of the table, rounded it, and started back. “But in nineteen twenty-nine, I became convinced we needed to change our rules of engagement. The global depression, the Dust Bowl, and numerous other crises might have been ameliorated if not prevented with the technologies at our disposal, except our charter prevented such interference. I believed it was time to rethink our policies, and the majority of you agreed with me. When we resolved to become wholly transparent by the end of this decade, I had hoped that sharing our most wondrous secret, the other world, would inspire mankind out of despair by expanding their awareness of what was possible. With catastrophe and poverty and war all around us, our present moment needs to know that there is more to life than what we see and suffer. I still believe that.”
Tesla poured himself another drink. It was clear to Earhart that he didn’t want to say what he felt he needed to say next. So he said it quickly, as if to be done with it. “We will only ever have one chance to do this right, and I simply don’t think we can do that given this turn of events. I vote to delay the reveal until the threat against us is neutralized.”
Earhart hurt for him. He had only wanted to share his “New Frontier” with the world since he discovered it long ago. He had always believed it was the right thing to do, but he had been repeatedly voted down by the Plus Ultra majority, or bullied out of his idealism by the rich men that he needed to fund him. Choosing to delay yet again, this time freely, must have been killing him inside. She watched him down his second shot and sit. “Those of you who patched in, please wait to speak until our present company have shared. The floor is open.”
Szilard didn’t waste any time. “I agree with Nikola. As much as I regret the terrorism that has struck the city, I am grateful for the opportunity to reassess. I fail to see the value of making utopia if we can’t even defend it from radicals and despots like Hitler—”
Einstein interrupted. “At the risk of a bad pun, but this is largely relative. Are we not radicals? Are we not despots? We’re a tiny cabal of men with power and privilege beyond imagining that for decades has imposed its will on the world, first by denying what we have or forcing what we have upon it, as we are about to do.”
“Surely you are not saying that there is no moral difference between Hitler and the enlightened leadership of our new world order?” asked Wells.
“Herbert, every time you say the words ‘new world order’ it makes me want to ask Earhart to punch you in the gut,” said Einstein, eliciting laughter.
“You’re one to judge,” said Wells. “The times I have heard you rail on and on about human stupidity…”
“But I never said I wasn’t immune to it. And that is exactly why I vote to stay the course and go public,” said Einstein.
“The future should be a global, democratic project, not the work of a few men hiding underground.”
