Glimpse (The Tesla Effect Book 1) (19 page)

The hallway was empty.

Tesla took a deep breath, stepped out into the hall and shut the door softly behind her, and then she let herself out the side door of the department, found her way to the elevator and left the building like an apparition, a mere suggestion of the person she would be in another time, another place.

CHAPTER
19

At 4:10 Sam rode up to the library and stopped right next to the sidewalk. Tesla leaned in so he could put the helmet on her, and then she climbed on the back of the bike, both of them oddly comfortable in the routine they’d established only a few hours earlier.

“How did it go at the library?” he asked, his face turned to the side so she could hear him over the sound of the engine, which rumbled low as it idled.

“Good,” she answered hastily, not eager to remember that she had lied to him earlier. “I found some stuff that might be useful, and I took some notes, so I guess it was a good day.”

Sam nodded.
“Where to?” he asked.

“Can we just drive around a bit?” she asked, hesitantly.
“I don’t want to put you out, but this is kind of cool for me, you know, to be here.”

“Sure,” he said easily.
“We’ve got time to kill. We can’t go back to the lab until nine, when my shift starts.”

“When do you sleep?”

Sam laughed. “Tomorrow. You caught me on a weird day. I don’t usually work a double like this.”

He drove away from the curb before she could respond, turned left at the stop sign, and headed down University Boulevard, which cut directly through the center of campus.

“There’s physics,” he said.

“Oh, yeah,” she said weakly and resolved to become a better liar.

They rode slowly, and Tesla was able to look both left and right as they went. She noted how much—and how little—had changed over eight years. Sorority and fraternity row was exactly the same. The student recreation center was older and smaller than it would be in 2012, though Tesla could not remember when the newer one, which she was familiar with, had been built. The student union was the same, few of the classroom or administrative buildings had changed, and the open green spaces, where students played Frisbee or sunbathed while they read, their heads pillowed on their backpacks, all made her feel like she hadn’t travelled in time at all, that then was now and now was then, and she could ride up to her house and find Max in front of the TV with his X-Box.

When they rode past Angelo’s Sam reached down and squeezed her hand, and she smiled, though she faced his back, glad to feel less alone on this strange mission.
An ice cream parlor that no longer existed, but was clearly in operation now, jolted Tesla with a sudden, unexpected memory in which she held her mother’s hand as they walked into that shop, a little string of bells on the door announcing their arrival with a jingle that sounded, somehow, like strawberries and rainbow-colored sprinkles. She clutched Sam’s shirt front, leaned into him and craned her neck to say in his ear, “Take a right on Webber.”

He did as she directed, and they left the town square behind them for this quiet, shady street of old trees and neat, modest homes.
Sam did not need to be asked to slow the bike to barely a crawl, just fast enough to keep it upright, as Tesla stared intensely at a whitewashed house with a red brick chimney dominating one side and towering over the roof. She held Sam’s shirt tightly in her fist, though she did not know it, and the arm she held rigidly across his torso was tense and brittle and reminded the boy that she was breakable.

As they neared the house, Tesla gasped audibly when a pale young girl with spindly legs and fiery-red curls that waved madly all over her head ran from around the side of the house, barefoot and shrieking.
A man followed close on her heels, a garden hose in his hand as he chased her and roared in mock rage. He held his thumb over the open nozzle of the hose as he attempted to spray the little girl with water. His own hair was sopping wet, water poured in rivulets down his face, and the front of his shirt was soaked.

The motorcycle pulled even with the house, and as if in slow motion, Sam and Tesla turned their heads to watch the man and the little girl, and with a shock of recognition that she felt to her very core, Tesla’s eyes met those of Greg Abbott as he watched them in turn and raised
a hesitant hand to wave.

They passed the house and the end of the street forced them to turn, so Sam went left, and it was over.

Tesla was damp with sweat, every muscle tensed and held beyond its endurance. Her legs shook with such force she doubted they would hold her if she had to get off the motorcycle. She tried not to cry, and berated herself for having to try. It wasn’t as though she didn’t know her father was here, in this time, years younger, or that she herself was here, a nine-year old girl. And when she told Sam to turn down the street where they used to live, it was obviously because she wanted to get a look at her old life which, for her, had always been about the mother she no longer had. What she had not expected—what wrecked her now—was the sight of her father and her younger self at play. They had been happy.

She had known for eight years that she’d lost her mother, but somehow, somewhere, she had lost her dad along the way, too.

Sometime later, when she felt less vulnerable, Tesla noticed they were on a two-lane road, clearly outside of town, and the sun was below the treetops.

“Hey—” Tesla said as she leaned into Sam so he could hear her. “Um, sorry about that.”

Sam didn’t answer.
He must be really pissed
, she thought,
that I asked him to drive down that street, that my dad saw me
. She couldn’t begin to understand the ripple effects that must have already begun, now that her father had seen her here, in the past.

The motorcycle slowed as it rolled off the two-lane, paved road and into a field of tall grass and wildflowers.
Once it had stopped, and they were a good twenty yards from the road, Sam turned the motor off and they sat there until the silence of the field, and the sudden lack of motor sounds gave way in their consciousnesses to the twitter of birds settling in for the night. Sam pushed the kickstand down with his foot and then slid off. He stood next to the bike, his hands shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans.

“What are you sorry for?” he asked as she took off the helmet and felt the breeze lift her hair as it spilled out, down and around her shoulders. It took her a moment to remember that she had apologized to him.
She felt numb, in shock, unable to focus.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she said.
“It was a stupid risk to take. I let my dad see me. Oh God, Sam, what will he do? For my father to know at this point that time travel works, that
I’m
the one who’s done it—”

“Tesla,” Sam interrupted.
“He didn’t see you. He waved at me—he knows me, I work for him, remember? He only saw you as someone on the back of my bike—the helmet and visor covered your hair and face. There is no way he jumped to the conclusion you’re afraid of, he doesn’t know, I promise.”

Sam was right.
She felt the blush on her cheeks, the visible heat that was always as much of an embarrassment to her as whatever it was that made her blush in the first place. “Oh,” she said. “Right.” She looked away as the shadows crawled across the meadow toward them. Tesla felt oddly deflated, rather than relieved. “I guess I just freaked out a little.”

“Who wouldn’t?” he said as he took a tentative step closer, his eyes still on hers.

She shrugged and shifted her gaze away from him again. “I guess.”

“What are you embarrassed about?” he asked suddenly.
“You don’t seem shy, exactly, but you won’t ever look at me.”

“I look at you,” she answered hotly.
She felt like she was the younger one instead of him, and she didn’t like it. “I blush easily, and I hate it, that’s all. It makes me self-conscious. And, you know. My eyes.”

Sam shook his head in disbelief.
“Man, girls are weird.”

“Oh, right, and guys aren’t.”

“What I meant was, you’re crazy.”

“Is that supposed to be less of an insult?”

“You blush because you feel things,” Sam said simply. “And I won’t even respond to the comment about your eyes. I don’t know if you’re an idiot or you want compliments, but I’m not encouraging you, either way.”

Tesla smiled, she couldn’t help it.
Her dimples bit deep, her cheeks moved up into tight, round apples that were softly, beautifully pink.

“Okay, whatever,” she said as she swiped her hand in the air as if to disperse the conversation like so much smoke.
“We should probably head back. It’ll take us awhile to get back to town, and I want to jump back—ahead, I guess—to my own time as soon as possible.”

Sam’s disappointment showed plainly on his face, but he immediately climbed back on the bike and started the engine.
He drove slowly and carefully over the bumpy meadow as the long grass whipped at their legs and the smell of crushed flowers wafted up in their wake, until they were on pavement once again. The night air was chilly, and Tesla shivered once, glad Sam was in front of her to shield her from the wind. They didn’t attempt to speak as they drove through the dusk and the stars came out to wink and watch without comment as life unfolded below.

By ten o’clock Tesla and Sam were back in the lab. They’d snuck in, and Sam had Tesla hide in a small maintenance closet until he’d gone through every room on the floor and confirmed that they were alone. They went to the lab, then, which was quiet and dark until Sam shut the door and turned on the lights.

Tesla walked over to the coffin, in its customary spot on the table.
“You know, you should suggest to your boss that he make this a little bigger,” she joked. “It’s not all that comfortable as a mode of travel.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” he said.
“I’m sure the docs will take a suggestion from the sixteen year old janitor very seriously.”

“Fifteen,” she corrected, and immediately regretted it.
She
hated
it when Keisha did that to her.

“Fifteen and three quarters,” he countered, not in the least bothered. “And let’s not forget that I am actually older than you are—you being seventeen in this time is cheating, so it doesn’t
count.”

“It so counts, and you know it,” she said.
“Nice try.” She hopped up to sit on the table, happy to feel a bit more coordinated than she had since her arm had been broken. She was used to a sense of her own agility, and the clumsiness of the cast and the inability to use her arm had become an irritation. “So what do you have to do to send me back?”

“Not much. I just flip the switch here.”
He pointed to a control panel that looked to Tesla like a high school science fair project. And not a first place entry, either.

“Really?” she asked, her nose wrinkled.
“That’s it?”

“Yeah, it turns the lasers on.”

“So how do you know how to do it?” she asked, her eyes narrowed to blue and green slits. “Do you fool around with the equipment when you’re here at night?”

“No,” he said hastily.
“Not exactly.”

Tesla merely raised an eyebrow.

“Sometimes Dr. Petro—your mom works late, and, you know, I hang out in here. We talk. I’m interested, and she likes to explain stuff.”

“Oh,” said Tesla, at a loss for words.
Sam knew her mother. Better than Tesla would ever know her. “I should go,” she said quickly. “And I need Schrödinger.”

Sam walked over to the metal table and held out his hands for the messenger bag, which Tesla took off and handed to him.
“Heavier than when you came,” he observed. “Still room in there for the rat?”

“He’s not a rat, and yes, there’s room.”
Tesla put her hand in Sam’s as she got her feet under her and stood up on the table to step into the coffin. She lay down and curled up on her side and Sam placed her bag, with Schrödinger inside, in the space between the backs of her calves and the rear wall of the box.

“Ready?” he asked, his hand on the lid.

Without much room to maneuver, Tesla could only glance at him, but the one dimple he could see flashed as she smiled at him. “Guess so,” she said cheerfully.

He began to lower the lid, but just before the latch clicked he lifted it again, just enough so that they could see each other.

“Come back soon,” he said simply.

“Oh, sure, make me do all the work,” she joked, and then she was shut inside and slipped from the world in a brilliant swirl of light.

CHAPTER 20

Finn jerked his head back up as he started to doze off, his chin headed toward his chest. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours in this little room and he’d fallen asleep occasionally in the chair he felt had become an extension of his body. Bizzy had come to relieve him a little while ago, and he’d gone back to Lydia’s for a shower but returned immediately after. There was no way he could sleep. Time travel. The ramifications staggered his imagination—this was an historic moment, one that would change human experience forever. And he was right here to see it firsthand.

Mixed with his awe and the adrenaline of ambition, however, was worry.
Tesla had been gone since the night before and there had been no sign of her since. He hadn’t fully comprehended what it would mean to send someone back in time and then just sit and wait. He’d wanted to go himself, of course, but it would never have occurred to him to wonder what it might be like for the person left behind—he had virtually no experience with that kind of connection or empathy. He was a family of one, and he liked it that way—with the possible exception of Joley, of course. And, increasingly since he’d moved back here, Keisha as well. Tesla, he barely knew, but this
worry
—

He might, just possibly, have started to care about her, and he was far from happy about it.

He ran his fingers through his untidy curls and closed his eyes wearily.

“They’ve got
you
manning this contraption?”

Finn’s eyes flew open at the sound of Keisha’s voice. “What are you—how did you get in here?” he demanded.

Keisha smirked, loving this rare moment when she had the better of her cousin. He was far too smug, in her opinion. “Bizzy let me in—wait, before you say anything against that sweet, but let’s face it, hair-and-make-up-challenged girl, I tricked her.”

Finn rubbed his face hard and then stood up to face whatever disaster Keisha had wrought. “What have you done?”

“I have simply been me, and outsmarted your friends, who obviously think I’m an idiot,” she said, savoring each word. “I went to your place and hung around until I caught Bizzy alone. And then I just pretended that I knew more than I do. I pretended I was mad, and that I thought it was her fault that T had gone missing, and I demanded that she get her back here, right now.” Keisha grinned broadly at him. “She jumped to it. It was awesome. I was totally vague, and the next thing I know she’s stammering out an apology, telling me you’re down in the ‘Bat Cave’ waiting for Tesla to ‘jump back to our time,’ and that she’s just sure everything will turn out okay, that even though this is the first time a human has time travelled—and I’m like, what the hell did you just say??—she’s got every confidence in Tesla’s dad, and who knows what else. I didn’t understand it, frankly, but I got the gist. ‘You better take me down to that cave and my cousin right now,’ I said. And, so, here I am.”

Finn stared at her, incredulous. In ten minutes she had not only gotten Bizzy to tell her about time travel, about Dr. Abbot’s work, this secret facility, but that Tesla had actually jumped back in
time herself.

He was just about to impress upon her—well, attempt to impress upon her—the seriousness of these matters when there was a sudden, brilliant flash of light, white-hot, from the monitors in the control booth, and he was out of his chair and on his feet.
One glance at the screen directly in front of him revealed Tesla’s curled-up form in a fetal position on the floor and he was out the door, down the metal stairs and into the Bat Cave, with Keisha on his heels.

“Is she dead?” Keisha yelled behind him.

Finn threw open the heavy metal door and knelt on the floor beside Tesla, and he tentatively touched her shoulder. “Tesla?”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, and the smile that broke across her face was like another laser flash.

“Hey,” she said. “I guess I’m back.”

“I guess you are.”

She sat up, a little slower than she would have if she’d had two good arms, but for all that she looked just fine, and Finn could feel himself start to relax, finally.

“T, what the hell—are you okay?” Keisha asked, skidding to a stop right beside Finn.

“Yeah, I’m good—what are you doing here?”

“I’m in the inner circle with you geeks now,” Keisha said proudly.

Tesla turned to Finn, her surprise apparent. “Lydia agreed to this?”

“Hardly. I don’t think she even knows. Keisha made Bizzy think she already knew, and bullied her into bringing her down here.”

“Nice,” Tesla said, holding her hand up, palm facing them. “Up top.”

Keisha, finally getting the recognition she felt she deserved, high-fived her best friend. “You should’ve told me, though,” she admonished Tesla.

“I really didn’t know until yesterday. Literally. When I told you I thought I’d hallucinated all that stuff in the hospital, that’s what I really thought it was. Hey—is Max okay?” Tesla asked, turning back to Finn.

“Max is fine, everyone is.”
He paused a moment, but he couldn’t resist, he wanted the story. “So it worked. You went back? Same place?”

“Yup,” she said, and the triumph in her voice was unmistakable.
“Piece of cake. Wound up in the coffin, in the lab, same time of night there as it was here when I left.”

“So time runs parallel here and there.”

“Far as I could tell,” she said. “From what Sam said, the same amount of time had passed there as had passed here since last fall when I stumbled into the Bat Cave with my concussion.”

“You talked to the janitor kid about time travel?” Finn asked, incredulous.

Tesla responded hastily. “I didn’t tell him. He works there—he knew it was a time machine before I ever showed up. But yeah, he was there in the lab. He’d waited for months, I guess, hoping someone would come back in the time machine.”

Finn nodded. “I guess I can’t blame him for that. It is pretty incredible. Still, Lydia won’t be happy that you had that conversation.”

Tesla merely shrugged. In light of her successful return from the past—not to mention the fact that Lydia wasn’t here—she didn’t feel overly concerned. She turned to Keisha. “Hey, maybe it’ll take the pressure off you and Biz. Cat’s out of the bag all over the place.”

“But Tesla, I still don’t get why you did this,” said Keisha.

Tesla sobered immediately and explained quickly about her father. “Is there any news of my dad, Finn? Any word from Jane?”

“Lydia is on it, of course, but she hasn’t updated us directly since you left last night.
If she’s heard from Jane I’m not aware of it.”

“But Jane knows I took the jump, right?”

Finn hesitated. He didn’t want to tell Tesla that he sensed Lydia didn’t quite trust Jane; the woman was practically her aunt. “You’ll have to ask Lydia,” he finally said in a tone that did not invite questions. “We should probably head to the house. Everyone will want to know you’re back, and hear the whole story—you were gone a full day, you must have a lot to tell us. And your bag looks pretty full—did the mouse…?”

“Schrödinger,” Tesla corrected.
“And yes.” Tesla reached into her bag and pulled out the tiny traveler, who blinked enormous black eyes at Finn.

“He made it,” Finn breathed. “Do you know what this means?”

“It means we need some Purel, stat,” said Keisha, backing away from Tesla.

“It doesn’t mean anything until we can repeat it,” Tesla answered Finn, too well schooled in the scientific method to let excitement lead her to a hasty conclusion.

Finn took the mouse and put it in a little wire cage that sat in a dark corner of the larger cave outside the time-machine room before they left the cave for the stairwell that led up and out into the world again.

“I brought some stuff back, but it’s unclear to me how valuable it is.
Bizzy will be able to help figure it out, I think,” said Tesla as she climbed. “And I thought, you know, besides the technical aspects, you’re probably the one to help me dig into the past. Seems kind of journalistic.”

“It is that,” said Finn easily. “Plus, of course, that’s what my paycheck is for, as Lydia will happily remind me.”

They climbed the stairs in single file, Finn leading the way. Tesla, walking just behind him—her torso was twenty-six inches from his—vividly recalled the way he’d kissed her, right outside the door they were headed for. They’d stood in the light rain, a perfectly damp, warm summer night, and though she’d made the first move, his response had been—well, responsive. She flushed, suffused from head to toe with a warmth that was unmistakable. She glanced at his back, noted the way his T-shirt stretched taut across his shoulders, and her eyes traveled down his body, over his narrow hips, the fitted jeans, muscled thighs…

She wanted to kiss him again. And more.

“Tesla, geez!” Keisha complained when she ran smack into Tesla, who had unconsciously stopped on the stair, staring at Finn’s ass.

“Sorry,” Tesla mumbled, trying not to laugh as she started climbing again.

A few minutes later they rounded another bend in the seemingly endless metal staircase, which echoed loudly with every step they took until they reached the exterior door that led to the quad.
Happy to have climbed out of the bowels of the Bat Cave, and anxious to breathe the fresh night air, they picked up their pace until they were at the door. Finn opened it to reveal the darkness just beyond where the light spilled out from the stairwell.

Tesla walked outside with Keisha, Finn right behind them, but before he could grab the door as it shut and cut off the only source of light in the darkness, they caught a glimpse of the man who emerged from the shadows only a few feet away and moved
purposefully toward them. The door clicked shut behind them, their escape cut off, and they turned to face whoever it was that waited for them.

“Tesla,” the man called softly, as Finn pulled the girls back and stepped in front of them protectively.

“What do you want?” Finn asked.

The man ignored Finn.
“Tesla, don’t be afraid. You know me.”

Tesla peered around Finn’s shoulder and stared at the shadowy figure in front of them.
Her scalp pricked eerily at the sound of his voice. She
knew
that voice, though she couldn’t place it.

“I’m sorry to startle you,” said the man.
“I’ve got a flashlight, I’m going to shine it on my face.”

He brought the flashlight up and turned the beam on his features.
They stood like that for an interminable minute, as Finn, Keisha, and Tesla looked at him, and he stood patiently while they did. He wasn’t quite as tall as Finn, but he was harder, with a bigger, more muscular build. His thick, black hair was cut short, an almost military style, and he looked at Tesla intently with dark, liquid eyes—

“Sam?” Tesla suddenly said, her voice hesitant with disbelief.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice still soft, as if she were a skittish colt he did not want to startle. “It’s me.”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, and then she was out from behind Finn before he could stop her and had flung herself into the arms of the dark haired man.

Sam’s arms went around her and held her tightly, her feet several inches above the rain-wet grass. He’d dropped the flashlight to catch her and it landed just in front of him, tipped up at an angle on a small hillock of grass to illuminate the tableau of Tesla’s arms around the handsome stranger’s neck, a self-assured man, older than Finn but, without a doubt, young enough.

“That’s hot,” said Keisha with warm approval.

Tesla moved, pulled away from him just slightly, and Sam released her immediately to set her gently down on the ground.

“I can’t believe it,” Tesla laughed breathlessly.
“I just left you, I just saw you like, twenty minutes ago! But you were—”

“Yeah, I know, it takes a while to get used to the idea.”
He bent down to retrieve the flashlight and turned it off, which plunged them all back into darkness. “But it was eight years and twenty minutes ago for me.”

“Eight years,” she whispered.
“But…”

And then Finn spoke.
“Of course,” he said. “You’ve had to wait all this time.” Finn’s and Sam’s eyes met and, despite the gloom, they saw each other quite clearly.

“Oh, sorry,” Tesla said.
“Sam, this is Finn and Keisha.”

Sam stuck his hand out and Finn grasped it with his own.
“Good to meet you guys.”

“Likewise,” said Finn easily.

“Yeah, very, very good to meet you,” said Keisha, expertly elbowing her cousin aside to shake Sam’s hand as well.

“We should get to the house,” said Finn.
“Lydia will want to talk to you, too, if you’d like to come with us.”

“Yeah, I would,” said Sam.
“Thanks.”

They began the trek across campus, toward the library, as they made their way to Lydia’s old Victorian house.