confident. If I went all the way to the top, I could claim to have changed my mind and jump off when Thad got out.
The operator nodded and looked to Thad. "Mr. Tesla's room?" he inquired.
"Yes, thank you, Charles," Thad replied.
As we began to move, I turned my attention to Thad. I gazed up at a set of vivid blue eyes, beneath a forehead that bore a faded white scar, which I felt gave just the right note of character to a face that might have been too blandly handsome otherwise.
He nodded and smiled slightly. "Hello."
"Hello," I said, relieved that he had spoken first since it wouldn't have been seemly for me to have started speaking to him.
A moment of silence passed between us during which I felt consumed with panic and had not a clue as to what to do next. Do what Holmes would do; observe something, I thought. "That looks heavy. What's in your package?" I asked, noticing that he clutched to his chest a parcel wrapped in brown paper.
He laughed lightly. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."
"Let me guess," I ventured. "Will it light all of Manhattan?"
His smile faded into a look of startled suspicion. "No."
"Will it contact alien life on other planets?"
Thad tightened his grip on the parcel, as though fearing I might snatch it away from him. His eyes darted nervously to the lights on the ascending elevator, no doubt checking to see how long it would be until he could escape me. "No," he replied.
"Is it an earthquake machine?" I persisted.
"Charles, forgive me, but I think I'll get out here on the fifth floor," Thad said abruptly.
"As you wish," Charles complied.
The elevator doors slid open and Thad stepped out quickly.
"I've changed my mind, too," I said as the doors closed once more. "Please let me out on the next floor."
Charles hid whatever annoyance he must have felt beneath a mask of polite professionalism. "Very well."
On the sixth floor I hurried out, my eyes darting frantically around the quiet, elegant hallway in search of stairs to take me back down to the fifth floor. If I was fast enough, I could continue to follow Thad, though now that he was onto me, I would have to hang back even more than before. This wouldn't be easy but I was determined to find Tesla.
At the end of the hallway was a stairway and I ran to it. I was only a few steps down when I came face-to-face with Thad, who was running up.
"Who are you, anyway?" he asked.
"Jane Oneida Taylor."
"Mind telling me how you know so much about my parcel?"
Talking fast, I told him everything, starting with that day back in 1898 when we were caught in the Tesla-induced quake and continuing with how I'd avidly followed Tesla's career. I finished up by telling him about the Sun contest. "And what better person to write about than someone I've been researching all my life -- so if I could only meet him and get a quick interview ... Do you think you could get me in to see him?"
I don't think Sherlock Holmes would have been impressed with my approach, so completely lacking in subtlety or cleverness. Just the same, Thad was much more relaxed once he heard my story. "An aspiring journalist, huh?" he said, seeming impressed as he leaned against the banister and looked me over. "You sure picked a great guy to write about. Tesla's the smartest guy alive, even brainier than that Einstein, if you ask me."
"Can you get me in to see him?" I pressed.
"Maybe," he said. "Come back here in an hour. I'll meet you."
"Can't you just tell me what room he's in?" I asked.
He shook his head, still studying me as though he hadn't yet decided if I could be trusted. "No. If he says it's all right, I'll come back and take you to him."
He continued on up the steps, and I went with him. He stopped at the top step and faced me. "You can't keep following me," he said.
"Is it wonderful being his assistant?" I asked.
He shrugged. "He's a weird guy. Brilliant. But sort of nuts."
"In what ways?" I asked, a little disturbed at this. He grinned mischievously. "You'll
The operator nodded and looked to Thad. "Mr. Tesla's room?" he inquired.
"Yes, thank you, Charles," Thad replied.
As we began to move, I turned my attention to Thad. I gazed up at a set of vivid blue eyes, beneath a forehead that bore a faded white scar, which I felt gave just the right note of character to a face that might have been too blandly handsome otherwise.
He nodded and smiled slightly. "Hello."
"Hello," I said, relieved that he had spoken first since it wouldn't have been seemly for me to have started speaking to him.
A moment of silence passed between us during which I felt consumed with panic and had not a clue as to what to do next. Do what Holmes would do; observe something, I thought. "That looks heavy. What's in your package?" I asked, noticing that he clutched to his chest a parcel wrapped in brown paper.
He laughed lightly. "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."
"Let me guess," I ventured. "Will it light all of Manhattan?"
His smile faded into a look of startled suspicion. "No."
"Will it contact alien life on other planets?"
Thad tightened his grip on the parcel, as though fearing I might snatch it away from him. His eyes darted nervously to the lights on the ascending elevator, no doubt checking to see how long it would be until he could escape me. "No," he replied.
"Is it an earthquake machine?" I persisted.
"Charles, forgive me, but I think I'll get out here on the fifth floor," Thad said abruptly.
"As you wish," Charles complied.
The elevator doors slid open and Thad stepped out quickly.
"I've changed my mind, too," I said as the doors closed once more. "Please let me out on the next floor."
Charles hid whatever annoyance he must have felt beneath a mask of polite professionalism. "Very well."
On the sixth floor I hurried out, my eyes darting frantically around the quiet, elegant hallway in search of stairs to take me back down to the fifth floor. If I was fast enough, I could continue to follow Thad, though now that he was onto me, I would have to hang back even more than before. This wouldn't be easy but I was determined to find Tesla.
At the end of the hallway was a stairway and I ran to it. I was only a few steps down when I came face-to-face with Thad, who was running up.
"Who are you, anyway?" he asked.
"Jane Oneida Taylor."
"Mind telling me how you know so much about my parcel?"
Talking fast, I told him everything, starting with that day back in 1898 when we were caught in the Tesla-induced quake and continuing with how I'd avidly followed Tesla's career. I finished up by telling him about the Sun contest. "And what better person to write about than someone I've been researching all my life -- so if I could only meet him and get a quick interview ... Do you think you could get me in to see him?"
I don't think Sherlock Holmes would have been impressed with my approach, so completely lacking in subtlety or cleverness. Just the same, Thad was much more relaxed once he heard my story. "An aspiring journalist, huh?" he said, seeming impressed as he leaned against the banister and looked me over. "You sure picked a great guy to write about. Tesla's the smartest guy alive, even brainier than that Einstein, if you ask me."
"Can you get me in to see him?" I pressed.
"Maybe," he said. "Come back here in an hour. I'll meet you."
"Can't you just tell me what room he's in?" I asked.
He shook his head, still studying me as though he hadn't yet decided if I could be trusted. "No. If he says it's all right, I'll come back and take you to him."
He continued on up the steps, and I went with him. He stopped at the top step and faced me. "You can't keep following me," he said.
"Is it wonderful being his assistant?" I asked.
He shrugged. "He's a weird guy. Brilliant. But sort of nuts."
"In what ways?" I asked, a little disturbed at this. He grinned mischievously. "You'll
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