Having ascertained that the crystal itself stood no danger to the League. It was carefully broke into three parts. Being similar to a cluster of quartz crystals, this was not difficult. Kapivar, Tesla and Solomon Standish taking a portion of the glowing mineral discovered below the Tower.
Standish was tasked to seek out a gemstone expert in New York City and Mustafa the Turk, eagerly jumped at the chance to accompany him. Mustafa, had not flown much in the past and enjoyed the chance to take flight, but enjoyed even more the chance to visit NYC seedier corners in search of a fix. For some time the Turk had been addicted to Opium. After the horrors of the Great War it seemed his only way to escape those horrid memories.
The two men quickly split ways, Mustafa chasing the dragon while Solomon chases a lead. In the heart of the burgeoning diamond district Solomon makes his way to a little shop that specializes in rare gemstones. Westberg & Sons employe Adam Westberg looks at the stone and opens a few books trying to track down just exactly what the crystal is. He comes to one conclusion: he can't. He doesn't know what it is exactly but makes an offer to Solomon, which he refuses. Solomon seems to be agitated for uncertain reasons and shifts from foot to foot while he waits for Westbergs appraisal.
Solomon stiffs Westberg on the appraisal fee but feels an unease as Westberg says he and some associates will come to Wardenclyffe to talk to Tesla about acquiring some of the crystal. "Suit yourself." Solomon thinks to himself as he braces against the cold winter winds. He had plenty of time before he had to meet up with Mustafa at the Train Station. Perhaps he stopped by a bar or shopped for supplies for a bit before heading there.
Mustafa was far more successful in his quest than Solomon. The Chinese Tea House was an acceptable front for an Opium den. An order of a special blend of tea got you invited into a back room. There a wall opened into the abandoned store front next door where the true business was Opium, and any other illicit addiction one could think of. Mustafa settles in, makes his order and within a few moments is blissfully passing the time talking with an enrapturing woman.
(Addendum)
Mustafa and the woman, talk of all sorts of things, mainly about Mustafa nad the things he studies and eventually he runs out of conversation and he inquires to his young hostess "Whats new around here?"
The woman thinks for a moment. "The big news that everyone I know is talking about is the Chinamen that bought a big building down town. Chinamen never buy something like this. Big news! Everyone is very excited. Lots of jobs this Chinamen offers. Lots of friends are getting work for him. I hope to get job with him. Get out of here." and she looks around at the dirty walls, disgust undisguised plays across her face. "Big business man. Zhengzhou Yutong Group Co, ZYGCO, they call it, is his company, it buying up lots of buildings."
Mustafa chuckles to himself, his eyes half open. "I'd buy you a building...and we would smoke it" he murmurs before falling asleep.
(End Addendum)
Meanwhile, Jean Cortez the most recent addition to Tesla's payroll, pushes his way into Grand Central Station. He hoped to grab a train back up to Wardenclyffe after spending most of the day looking for an appropriate thank you memento for a fighting expert he'd been training with. Although his own expertise in the fighting arts was more mature and practiced then the man he was training with it was the customary gesture to give a gift to the master and so he had come to City with Tesla's Polytechnic University paperweights and pen sets in hand.
Jean stood scanning the train schedule at the top of a long flight of stairs that over looked the main hall area of the station. His attention completely wrapped in finding the correct train he didn't notice the man hurriedly making his way towards him, his own attention wrapped in anger born of patience worn thin. In a calamitous howl the men struck each other and pitched down the stairs. A blur of arms and legs and flailing limbs rolled down the entire length of stairs. The two men splayed out on the floor, blinking, confused and somehow unhurt. They both jumped to their feet.
Anger turned to astonishment as they realized they had literally ran into one another. Jean and Solomon had known each other for some time now. Originally meeting in the barren Nevada desert and taking to the skies together when waylaid by Edison's Electricians Guild. Battle had made them comrades, the kind that can't be shaken by money or women. Perhaps then it would be duty that would one day undo them? Not this day though.
Solomon and Jean quickly exchange reasons for being in NYC while rebuffing the Irish beat cop looking for a quick grift off a couple drunks. Seeing he'd misjudged the men, he moves on. Jean and Solomon make their way back to where Mustafa should've been, or at least said he was going. Jean not being any stranger to big cities or for looking for people, plies years of experience and digs up a reliable lead on Mustafa. "He go far away. He get Train pass for Rhode Island. Big thing there. He go find. Your friend the turk, he go long time now."
Exacerbated that Mustafa would just leave town Jean and Solomon hail a cab and make quick time from the airfield to Wardenclyffe. Solomon relays what he has found to Tesla as soon as he arrives back.
Late that evening Mustafa stirred. His head heavy with Opium but not too heavy he couldn't have another pipe, or maybe two. "Lady!" he yelled. "Lady! Another!" and the young hostess appeared and looked into Mustafa's eyes to see if indeed he could take another pipe or if he were under the dragons sway. His eyes swept from hers across her body. "How old was she?" he thought to himself. 12 or 13? He leered across her form, following her long straight hair to her should, then should to arm and arm to hand. There sitting wrapped around her wrist was an airman's watch. A watch from the Great War given to pilots. "How did she fly a plane in the war?" "how did she find a plane watch, a war watch. How old can a watch be? Before its old before its time?" He thought. "Lady!" he yelled. "How old is time? Huh? Do you know what time it is? I mean Really know?" He droned in a dry whisper only she could barely hear. Angrily she held her watch in from of his face. "I know time. It 12:30 turk."
12:30
12:30?
12:30!
Mustafa's eyes widen in sudden clarity. He scrambled out of the dirty stained cot and instinctively started checking to see if he was wearing clothes, specifically his clothes he'd worn in. He was. Dashing through the night he burst through the doors at Grand Central, practicing his apology to Solomon as he did. Its an apology he had given many times before and had perfected over the years. He cursed himself and vowed to one day get clean. He slumped into a bench sweat beading on his brow. No sign of Solomon. He'd wait here, maybe sleep, until the next train in the morning.
Over the next few days Apologies were made. Explanations given. Friendships deepened. some strained and others just began.
Melida the gyspy woman. A welcome spirit from the old country, who helped care for the horses and did other chores as needed, lead her charges around the perimeter of Wardenclyffe as she did nearly every morning. Was it something in the back of her mind that lead her towards Prof. Kapirov's building, or was it chance? Regardless, there she was, swiftly dismounting her horse and moving as a shadow up to a window.
Inside Kapirov and his assistants moved about quickly. A dizzying dance of practiced coordination. Kapirov being hard of hearing, relied on other senses to ensure that he didnt slam into an assistant and blow themselves to kingdom come. The laboratory was his stage and he a great conductor. Moving people and equipment and substances most men will never realize existed around in a whirlwind of near perfection. Melida stood enraptured.
Enraptured, not by Kapirov or his assistants but by the small cloudy and imperfect crystal hanging suspended in a glass vial. Her mind wandered back in time to when she was young and would spy on her grandmother giving readings from an heirloom tarot deck. The ring she wore on her finger was bright and clear and perfect and somehow reminded her of the one from the caves. It almost called to her, she was sure of it.
Just then she spied Marigold Nelson making her way down the path to Kapirov's test building. The woman was completely deaf but a supposed genius, or so she had heard. Melida darted into a shadow just around the corner from the main door. Marigold knocked and an assistant answered, greeted her and beckoned her in. Melida swiftly appeared behind her and walked in. "Don't mind if I do." She nodded to the assistant and walked directly over to the crystal. As Kapirov and Marigold flirted only as the over educated can, Melida gazed into the crystal, as one would an old lovers eyes. There was something about it, but she didn't know exactly what. Not yet anyway.
The three hung about until a knock at the door summoned them to Tesla's Main lab in the Tower. Arriving as quickly as they could they discovered others gathered there as well. Professor Nelson (Marigold's father), Solomon Wrestling Standish, Jean Cotez, Tex Madsen (and Tinymite), Mustafa Karim, and of course Nikola Tesla himself. Tesla cleared his throat and drew a white sheet back uncovering a piece of equipment.
"This is the Quadrophonic-Accruton-Resonance Generator." Tesla calmly explained. "It is my hope that the refinements that I have made to it will reveal more about the crystal we discovered." and he flipped the switch to the machine. Large metal microphone-like heads spun counter clockwise around a dish holding the large crystal Tesla had kept for himself, whirring as they gained speed. Those present remembered back when Tesla showed them the earlier version just days prior. An aura grew in the iar over the crystal. Tesla said it was a signature of sorts. Each element has it own unique aura and nothing matched that of the crystal.
The machine hummed and wires glowed amber hot from power surging from the Towers massive generators. The aura that grew expanded until it filled the room. Terrain and a horizon were clear to all.
"I believe, with this expanded aura that we can detect other pieces of this unique element. It will act as a compass, pointing us to its nearest sister." and Tesla points to three small spots that glow a bit brighter than any other. "Here is where we can begin."
"We, Dr. Tesla?" Solomon was the first to ask. "Ah yes, Mr. Standish, that brings me to my second order of business." and Tesla waved over a servant with a small dinner cart, ornately carved, meant for fancy occasion or ones of great importance. A small box the size of a nice cigar box lay next to several bottles of chilled champagne and fruits. He picked up the box and held it in his two hands as he spoke to those assembled. "In this life, I have faced many great challenges and many great adversaries. Not always have I walked away the victor." He looks at his feet. "I have often asked myself why this was. Beyond intelligence, or luck, what had undone me? Our encounter in the desert has convinced me that it was my hubris. It was my misguided notion that I could accomplish anything on my own. Quite clearly I can not. I could not have started this University on my own. I could not have survived Edison on my own and I will wager that this University will not survive the tumultuous times ahead, not just it but the world as well." He straightens and looks each assembled in the eye. "That is why I have decided to ask all of you, my trusted friends, colleagues and students to help me protect the world from what may come. Join me and let us succeed where every prior generation has failed. Let us show the world what cooperation, compassion and, indeed, science can do!" With that he slowly open the wooden box revealing ornate silver shields emblazoned with the Wardenclyffe crest and the words "Tesla League" on twisted scroll, beneath it engraved on a smaller scroll is the name of a member.
Assuming all accept Tesla's invitation, they will toast with champagne and shake hands a smoke cigars in celebration of their new endeavor. "Long Live the Tesla League!"
Standish was tasked to seek out a gemstone expert in New York City and Mustafa the Turk, eagerly jumped at the chance to accompany him. Mustafa, had not flown much in the past and enjoyed the chance to take flight, but enjoyed even more the chance to visit NYC seedier corners in search of a fix. For some time the Turk had been addicted to Opium. After the horrors of the Great War it seemed his only way to escape those horrid memories.
The two men quickly split ways, Mustafa chasing the dragon while Solomon chases a lead. In the heart of the burgeoning diamond district Solomon makes his way to a little shop that specializes in rare gemstones. Westberg & Sons employe Adam Westberg looks at the stone and opens a few books trying to track down just exactly what the crystal is. He comes to one conclusion: he can't. He doesn't know what it is exactly but makes an offer to Solomon, which he refuses. Solomon seems to be agitated for uncertain reasons and shifts from foot to foot while he waits for Westbergs appraisal.
Solomon stiffs Westberg on the appraisal fee but feels an unease as Westberg says he and some associates will come to Wardenclyffe to talk to Tesla about acquiring some of the crystal. "Suit yourself." Solomon thinks to himself as he braces against the cold winter winds. He had plenty of time before he had to meet up with Mustafa at the Train Station. Perhaps he stopped by a bar or shopped for supplies for a bit before heading there.
Mustafa was far more successful in his quest than Solomon. The Chinese Tea House was an acceptable front for an Opium den. An order of a special blend of tea got you invited into a back room. There a wall opened into the abandoned store front next door where the true business was Opium, and any other illicit addiction one could think of. Mustafa settles in, makes his order and within a few moments is blissfully passing the time talking with an enrapturing woman.
(Addendum)
Mustafa and the woman, talk of all sorts of things, mainly about Mustafa nad the things he studies and eventually he runs out of conversation and he inquires to his young hostess "Whats new around here?"
The woman thinks for a moment. "The big news that everyone I know is talking about is the Chinamen that bought a big building down town. Chinamen never buy something like this. Big news! Everyone is very excited. Lots of jobs this Chinamen offers. Lots of friends are getting work for him. I hope to get job with him. Get out of here." and she looks around at the dirty walls, disgust undisguised plays across her face. "Big business man. Zhengzhou Yutong Group Co, ZYGCO, they call it, is his company, it buying up lots of buildings."
Mustafa chuckles to himself, his eyes half open. "I'd buy you a building...and we would smoke it" he murmurs before falling asleep.
(End Addendum)
Meanwhile, Jean Cortez the most recent addition to Tesla's payroll, pushes his way into Grand Central Station. He hoped to grab a train back up to Wardenclyffe after spending most of the day looking for an appropriate thank you memento for a fighting expert he'd been training with. Although his own expertise in the fighting arts was more mature and practiced then the man he was training with it was the customary gesture to give a gift to the master and so he had come to City with Tesla's Polytechnic University paperweights and pen sets in hand.
Jean stood scanning the train schedule at the top of a long flight of stairs that over looked the main hall area of the station. His attention completely wrapped in finding the correct train he didn't notice the man hurriedly making his way towards him, his own attention wrapped in anger born of patience worn thin. In a calamitous howl the men struck each other and pitched down the stairs. A blur of arms and legs and flailing limbs rolled down the entire length of stairs. The two men splayed out on the floor, blinking, confused and somehow unhurt. They both jumped to their feet.
Anger turned to astonishment as they realized they had literally ran into one another. Jean and Solomon had known each other for some time now. Originally meeting in the barren Nevada desert and taking to the skies together when waylaid by Edison's Electricians Guild. Battle had made them comrades, the kind that can't be shaken by money or women. Perhaps then it would be duty that would one day undo them? Not this day though.
Solomon and Jean quickly exchange reasons for being in NYC while rebuffing the Irish beat cop looking for a quick grift off a couple drunks. Seeing he'd misjudged the men, he moves on. Jean and Solomon make their way back to where Mustafa should've been, or at least said he was going. Jean not being any stranger to big cities or for looking for people, plies years of experience and digs up a reliable lead on Mustafa. "He go far away. He get Train pass for Rhode Island. Big thing there. He go find. Your friend the turk, he go long time now."
Exacerbated that Mustafa would just leave town Jean and Solomon hail a cab and make quick time from the airfield to Wardenclyffe. Solomon relays what he has found to Tesla as soon as he arrives back.
Late that evening Mustafa stirred. His head heavy with Opium but not too heavy he couldn't have another pipe, or maybe two. "Lady!" he yelled. "Lady! Another!" and the young hostess appeared and looked into Mustafa's eyes to see if indeed he could take another pipe or if he were under the dragons sway. His eyes swept from hers across her body. "How old was she?" he thought to himself. 12 or 13? He leered across her form, following her long straight hair to her should, then should to arm and arm to hand. There sitting wrapped around her wrist was an airman's watch. A watch from the Great War given to pilots. "How did she fly a plane in the war?" "how did she find a plane watch, a war watch. How old can a watch be? Before its old before its time?" He thought. "Lady!" he yelled. "How old is time? Huh? Do you know what time it is? I mean Really know?" He droned in a dry whisper only she could barely hear. Angrily she held her watch in from of his face. "I know time. It 12:30 turk."
12:30
12:30?
12:30!
Mustafa's eyes widen in sudden clarity. He scrambled out of the dirty stained cot and instinctively started checking to see if he was wearing clothes, specifically his clothes he'd worn in. He was. Dashing through the night he burst through the doors at Grand Central, practicing his apology to Solomon as he did. Its an apology he had given many times before and had perfected over the years. He cursed himself and vowed to one day get clean. He slumped into a bench sweat beading on his brow. No sign of Solomon. He'd wait here, maybe sleep, until the next train in the morning.
Over the next few days Apologies were made. Explanations given. Friendships deepened. some strained and others just began.
Melida the gyspy woman. A welcome spirit from the old country, who helped care for the horses and did other chores as needed, lead her charges around the perimeter of Wardenclyffe as she did nearly every morning. Was it something in the back of her mind that lead her towards Prof. Kapirov's building, or was it chance? Regardless, there she was, swiftly dismounting her horse and moving as a shadow up to a window.
Inside Kapirov and his assistants moved about quickly. A dizzying dance of practiced coordination. Kapirov being hard of hearing, relied on other senses to ensure that he didnt slam into an assistant and blow themselves to kingdom come. The laboratory was his stage and he a great conductor. Moving people and equipment and substances most men will never realize existed around in a whirlwind of near perfection. Melida stood enraptured.
Enraptured, not by Kapirov or his assistants but by the small cloudy and imperfect crystal hanging suspended in a glass vial. Her mind wandered back in time to when she was young and would spy on her grandmother giving readings from an heirloom tarot deck. The ring she wore on her finger was bright and clear and perfect and somehow reminded her of the one from the caves. It almost called to her, she was sure of it.
Just then she spied Marigold Nelson making her way down the path to Kapirov's test building. The woman was completely deaf but a supposed genius, or so she had heard. Melida darted into a shadow just around the corner from the main door. Marigold knocked and an assistant answered, greeted her and beckoned her in. Melida swiftly appeared behind her and walked in. "Don't mind if I do." She nodded to the assistant and walked directly over to the crystal. As Kapirov and Marigold flirted only as the over educated can, Melida gazed into the crystal, as one would an old lovers eyes. There was something about it, but she didn't know exactly what. Not yet anyway.
The three hung about until a knock at the door summoned them to Tesla's Main lab in the Tower. Arriving as quickly as they could they discovered others gathered there as well. Professor Nelson (Marigold's father), Solomon Wrestling Standish, Jean Cotez, Tex Madsen (and Tinymite), Mustafa Karim, and of course Nikola Tesla himself. Tesla cleared his throat and drew a white sheet back uncovering a piece of equipment.
"This is the Quadrophonic-Accruton-Resonance Generator." Tesla calmly explained. "It is my hope that the refinements that I have made to it will reveal more about the crystal we discovered." and he flipped the switch to the machine. Large metal microphone-like heads spun counter clockwise around a dish holding the large crystal Tesla had kept for himself, whirring as they gained speed. Those present remembered back when Tesla showed them the earlier version just days prior. An aura grew in the iar over the crystal. Tesla said it was a signature of sorts. Each element has it own unique aura and nothing matched that of the crystal.
The machine hummed and wires glowed amber hot from power surging from the Towers massive generators. The aura that grew expanded until it filled the room. Terrain and a horizon were clear to all.
"I believe, with this expanded aura that we can detect other pieces of this unique element. It will act as a compass, pointing us to its nearest sister." and Tesla points to three small spots that glow a bit brighter than any other. "Here is where we can begin."
"We, Dr. Tesla?" Solomon was the first to ask. "Ah yes, Mr. Standish, that brings me to my second order of business." and Tesla waved over a servant with a small dinner cart, ornately carved, meant for fancy occasion or ones of great importance. A small box the size of a nice cigar box lay next to several bottles of chilled champagne and fruits. He picked up the box and held it in his two hands as he spoke to those assembled. "In this life, I have faced many great challenges and many great adversaries. Not always have I walked away the victor." He looks at his feet. "I have often asked myself why this was. Beyond intelligence, or luck, what had undone me? Our encounter in the desert has convinced me that it was my hubris. It was my misguided notion that I could accomplish anything on my own. Quite clearly I can not. I could not have started this University on my own. I could not have survived Edison on my own and I will wager that this University will not survive the tumultuous times ahead, not just it but the world as well." He straightens and looks each assembled in the eye. "That is why I have decided to ask all of you, my trusted friends, colleagues and students to help me protect the world from what may come. Join me and let us succeed where every prior generation has failed. Let us show the world what cooperation, compassion and, indeed, science can do!" With that he slowly open the wooden box revealing ornate silver shields emblazoned with the Wardenclyffe crest and the words "Tesla League" on twisted scroll, beneath it engraved on a smaller scroll is the name of a member.
Assuming all accept Tesla's invitation, they will toast with champagne and shake hands a smoke cigars in celebration of their new endeavor. "Long Live the Tesla League!"
