The Wells Bequest Page 12

  “My grandmother’s grandfather worked in Tesla’s lab, remember? He sailed for England the night the lab burned down. He took three chests of plans and models with him.”

  “Oh, so your grandmother’s grandfather was a cheat too? It figures.”

  “Please, Jaya,” said Simon. “I don’t want to hurt you. If you have the time machine, let me use it. I need to go back to last month and fix my mistake so you won’t hate me and we can be together.” His voice shook. I almost pitied him.

  “Go away, Simon. Your little plan isn’t going to work,” Jaya told him.

  “Please, Jaya! Don’t make me use the death ray!”

  I stepped in front of Simon and looked him straight in the eyes. The guy was really sounding crazy!

  Simon stopped, surprised.

  “Get . . . out . . . of . . . here . . . now,” I said. My voice felt different—it had never before sounded that controlled and intimidating. “And stop threatening Jaya. Do you understand me?” My fingers tightened into fists.

  Simon looked down at my hands. My eyes never left his face. He began to tense up.

  Auntie Shanti put her hand on my right arm. I lowered it slowly.

  “That’s enough, Simon,” she said. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Leave us alone, or I’ll make sure Dr. Pemberley-Potts hears about this.”

  “You’re making a mistake. You’ll see.” With a last glare at Jaya and me, Simon stalked away down the street.

  • • •

  It takes a moment to recover from that kind of anger. We all stood there silently. Then what Simon had said sank in.

  “Does Simon really have a death ray?” I asked. “The histories all say Tesla never finished inventing it.”

  “But his lab burned down,” said Jaya. “Lots of his inventions got lost. Maybe the death ray was one of them—maybe Simon’s ancestor really did steal the plans for it before the fire.”

  “Highly unlikely,” said Auntie Shanti. “I’ve known Simon’s father for years—we’re both on the Burton’s board—and he’s never mentioned it. He’s not what you’d call modest. Though I suppose even he might hesitate to boast about owning weapons of mass destruction.”

  “Well, let’s not stand here in the rain,” said Jaya. “After that ordeal, I need a crumpet.”

  “I can carry the time machine, Jaya,” I offered. She handed it to me.

  “There’s a good tea shop around the corner,” said Auntie Shanti, leading the way.

  • • •

  The waitress pointed us to a tiny table by the window.

  “That whole thing with Simon was really disturbing,” said Jaya.

  Auntie Shanti frowned. “Not here,” she said, glancing around at the crowded tea shop.

  “You’re right,” said Jaya. She changed the subject: “What do you hear from Meena and the boys?”

  While Jaya and her aunt discussed family matters, I spaced out and thought about the confrontation with Simon, the time machine, and the kiss. What was Simon capable of? I wondered. How much danger was Jaya in? And what could I do to protect her? But mostly, I wondered about the kiss. What did it mean? Did Jaya . . . like me? I mean, she obviously liked me, but did she like me the way you like someone you kiss? Or did she just know I liked her?

  She’d kissed me for a reason: to make time stop. Obviously time wouldn’t stop for just any old kiss. Her kiss was amazing. Nothing remotely like what had happened when I kissed Rachel Mintz in sixth grade. Clearly it had to be with someone you felt strongly about.

  Had time stopped for Jaya or just for me? I opened my mouth to ask, then shut it again. I couldn’t possibly ask her a question like that.

  If the kiss wasn’t real for her, then there was something sad about being kissed by the most awesome girl in the known universe for a reason that had nothing to do with how she felt about me.

  Well, at least we had gotten a time machine out of it. I felt for it with my toes to reassure myself it was still under my chair, which made me jostle Jaya with my knee.

  She smiled and jostled me back. “Sorry, we’re being rude,” she said. “How’s your scone?”

  “It’s great. Want a bite?”

  I held out my scone and she bit it. I watched her lick clotted cream off the corner of her mouth and wished I could do it for her.

  • • •

  Back at Auntie Shanti’s apartment we shook rain off our jackets.

  “Let’s have a look at it, shall we?” said Auntie Shanti.

  I pulled the demo time machine out of the Fortnum’s bag. The fall didn’t seem to have hurt it. Nothing was bent or broken.

  “It’s very detailed for a model. I love these little lion-paw feet,” said Auntie Shanti.

  Jaya touched a bar with her fingertip. “Is this supposed to be twinkling like that? The big one doesn’t twinkle.”

  “It’s supposed to. At least, that’s how H. G. Wells describes it in the book,” I said.

  “Now what?” asked Auntie Shanti. “Care for a spot of sightseeing, you two? Or would you rather take the model back to New York right away?”

  “I’ve always wanted to see the Tower of London. And Kew Gardens. And I’m curious about the Burton Repository, of course,” I said. “But what I really want to do is try out the time machine!”

  “The Tower of London would be super-fun with a time machine,” said Jaya. “But I don’t want to risk Simon finding us again. We should get it home.”

  “Pity, but I expect you’re right,” said Auntie Shanti. “Better pack your things, then.”

  I didn’t have much to pack. I shoved my dirty clothes in the bottom of my backpack for padding, then wrapped the model time machine in my last clean T-shirt and tucked it away too.

  “So how are we getting home, Auntie?” asked Jaya, coming back with her bag. “The dissolution transporter we used to get here is back in New York. Do you have one here?”

  “No, and even if we did, we shouldn’t use it on the time machine. It’s never a good idea to use objects of power on each other without testing them first. Who knows what damage we might do.”

  “How will we go, then? Are there jet packs?”

  Auntie Shanti shook her head. “I thought we would take the Épouvante.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “From Jules Verne’s Master of the World,” she explained. “In English, it’s the Terror.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  “It’s not ominous, it’s awesome. It’s a land-air-sea sub-ship,” said Jaya. “But isn’t it in the Phénoménothèque in Paris?”

  “Usually, but it’s here on inter-repository loan. Jane Random and I took it on holiday to Minorca two weeks ago. I might as well run you over before we return it—that way I can have a nice visit with your mum and dad.”

  “Great! Where is it? Can I drive?”

  “It’s in the river. Leo will get his wish to see Kew Gardens—we’ll be passing beside them on our way to the Channel.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Terror

  We shouldered our backpacks and wound our way downhill along Richmond’s curving streets, through a tidy green park to the Thames River.

  “Just over here,” said Auntie Shanti.

  A sign read Private Pier. Strictly No Mooring.

  Jaya hopped over a chain, ran down a metal stair to water level, and stepped out on the swaying wooden pier. “Where’s the Terror?” she asked, scanning the water.

  We followed her down. “Cloaked,” answered Auntie Shanti.

  “It has a cloaking device? I don’t remember that from the book,” Jaya objected.

  “It didn’t have one in the book,” said her aunt. “But it got hit by lightning, remember? When the Phénoménothèque Centrale Supérieure de la Ville de Paris rebuilt it in the mid-twentieth century, they put in a number of improvements. People weren’t as strict about authenticity back then.”

  “If it’s from a Jules Verne novel, why isn’t it in the New York repository?” I
asked. “I thought Mr. Steel bought all Verne’s objects.”

  “He did, most of them. But he thought the Terror was too badly damaged to rebuild, so he traded the pieces to the Paris Phénoménothèque,” said Auntie Shanti.

  “What did he get for them?” I asked.

  “Something of General Lafayette’s, I think. A sword, maybe.”

  While she was talking, Auntie Shanti stooped by the edge of the pier, running her fingers along it. She caught hold of something invisible and pulled. The water beside the pier churned and buckled, as if an invisible whale were surfacing. She strained at her invisible rope, splashing and sluicing water.

  “Hold this, will you, Jaya?”

  Jaya grabbed the air behind her aunt and helped tug. I felt a thump and the pier swayed. Then Auntie Shanti stepped over the railing and leapt into air.

  She landed in the middle of the disturbance and stood, rocking but upright. She looked like she was walking on water. “Give me your hand, Leo,” she said. “I’ll help you over.”

  That water looked really unsteady. It was stupid to jump before I understood it. “If the boat’s cloaked, doesn’t that mean it’s invisible? Shouldn’t it look like a hole in the water?”

  Auntie Shanti shook her head. “It’s not invisible, it’s camouflaged. It looks like its surroundings—in this case, water. Come along.” She held out her hand impatiently. Between the two of them, Jaya and her aunt had about as much patience as the number 2 express train.

  I stepped over the railing, shut my eyes, and jumped.

  I landed on my left foot. My right shot sideways, but Auntie Shanti caught me by the backpack before I fell. “Steady now,” she said. “Ready, Jaya?”

  I held out my hand to Jaya. She took it, leapt, stumbled as she landed, and fell into my arms. She righted herself quickly. Too quickly—I wouldn’t have minded if she’d stayed awhile.

  Auntie Shanti bent and lifted something invisible. “Down the hatch,” she said. Jaya scampered over and climbed down.

  Auntie Shanti untied the invisible rope. As soon as she detached it from the cloaked vessel, it popped into visibility. She coiled it and tossed it onto the pier. It lay there like a snake, hot pink and glaring yellow.

  I felt a tug at my heels. “This way, Leo,” said Jaya from below. She fitted my feet onto the ladder rungs as I climbed down into nothingness.

  • • •

  The moment the top of my head cleared the hatch, the ship became visible. We were in a little room with hanging bunks. A round porthole let in water-green light. It smelled of metal and brine and old grease.

  “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour,” said Jaya. She led me through the narrow sleeping cabin to a kitchen and a tidy paneled dining room—“the mess,” she called it—and the engine room, with its silent electric engines. The batteries were hidden under benches in the next compartment, the smoking room. I wanted to stop and figure out how it all worked, but Jaya hurried me through. “We need to get moving. There’ll be plenty of time for that later, while we’re crossing the Atlantic.”

  She opened the next airtight door. A long room tapered dramatically toward the front end—the bow, said Jaya. Brass handrails ran along the sides. Instead of portholes, the entire front end of the vessel had a big, pointed windshield.

  “Cool!” I said, running over to it. “It’s like the ship on Gravity Force II: Planetbound!”

  Below the windshield were the controls. Jaya plopped herself down in the captain’s chair by the steering wheel.

  “Out,” said Auntie Shanti.

  “But you said I could drive. You promised!”

  “I did not.”

  “Come on! Please? Dad let me last summer.”

  “Maybe once we’ve cleared the Channel. There’s far too much traffic on the river here. Up!”

  Jaya made a face and flounced out of the chair. “You just want to drive in the exciting part!”

  “Can you blame me?” With a Jaya-like grin, Shanti sat down, twisted a knob, and pulled a lever. The Terror kicked into life.

  It lived up to its name. “Grab the handrail, Leo!” she warned as I barreled into Jaya. I braced my feet wide apart, hung on like crazy, and hoped I wouldn’t fall flat on my face. It was like playing Gravity Force III with my whole body. We sped furiously through the water, skimming around barges and diving under ferries. Our wake sent the little vessels bobbing like toys. I hoped the cloaking would keep us hidden.

  “Watch out! There’s the Richmond Lock up ahead!” yelled Jaya. “It’s closed!”

  “I see it, Jaya,” said her aunt calmly. “We’ll go over. Hold on tight.”

  I was already holding the handrail, but I grabbed tighter and bent my knees. Auntie Shanti pressed a button. With a metallic shriek, a pair of wings sliced outward from the Terror’s sides. They gave three beats and we leapt into the air like a flying fish, just clearing the footbridge over the lock. We landed in the river and dove under, pulling a veil of bubbles around us.

  “That was fun,” said Jaya. “Why don’t we fly the whole way?”

  “Not till we clear the populous areas,” said Auntie Shanti. “We might ghost.”

  “A ghost? Where?” I asked. Nothing could surprise me now. It made sense there would be ghosts in a place this old.

  Auntie Shanti laughed. “Not a ghost—ghosting. That’s when the cloaking leaves a glint in air. It’s best to stay under when the water’s deep enough. Oh, but I’ll make a quick exception.” She pulled the Terror’s sharp nose straight up out of the river. “Look to starboard, Leo.”

  A green vista flashed past on the right-hand side. “What was that?” I asked, craning my neck as it vanished behind us.

  “Kew Gardens. See? I kept my promise.”

  “Uh, thanks.”

  As we went deeper into London, the river deepened too, but it got more crowded. We dodged and dove and zipped around vessels of all sizes. It looked like fun—I wished I were driving. Auntie Shanti pulled us out of the water from time to time to show me sights: the Houses of Parliament, the giant Ferris wheel, and the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral. The Tower Bridge winked past from a cockeyed airborne angle.

  “How did you like London?” asked Auntie Shanti, plunging into the Channel.

  “Charming city,” I said.

  “It is, actually,” said Jaya. “You’ll like it next time we come. Can I drive already, Auntie Shanti?”

  Next time—Jaya expected to come back here with me!

  “I said after the Channel.”

  “But we’re past the exciting part, and I’m good at this. You know I am.”

  “Fine,” said Auntie Shanti, climbing out of the chair. “If you crash, make sure I die. That way I won’t have to explain it to your father.”

  Jaya climbed into the chair, then looked at me. “Leo, you’re the guest. Want to take the wheel first?”

  How generous! I could have hugged her. “No, you go first,” I said. “You’ve been dying to.” I hung over the captain’s chair, watching her take us under ships and over shoals. She would be killer at Gravity Force III, I thought.

  Dim green light sifted through the window. Plastic bags floated like jellyfish. Marine life loomed into view, then flicked away. We nosed through a school of fish. They parted around us like a shiny beaded curtain.

  “Whiting,” said Auntie Shanti. “They live in shipwrecks. You’d better pull our nose up. There must be a wreck nearby.”

  “Ooh!” Jaya slowed down abruptly. She spun us around, snapped on our headlights, and dove. Glinting bits of who knows what came at us in the twin cones of light. It was like driving through snow.

  “Up! I said up, not down!” shouted Shanti.

  “I just want to take a look.”

  “Oh, very well. I’ll admit I’m curious myself.”

  The wreck swam into view: an ancient pirate-looking ship lying on its side. Its masts had broken off and lay buried in the seafloor. A brown-gray layer of muck covered it like a velvet blanket. Little
fish darted through the wreckage.

  “Maybe it’s a Spanish galleon full of gold!” Jaya said, hovering over it. “Let’s get out and look.”

  “You know we can’t. It would be a legal nightmare,” said her aunt. “Jaya! Now!”

  “Spoilsport,” said Jaya. She reluctantly turned us back around and sped us forward. “Leo, want a turn?” she asked.

  “Yes, please!”

  She got up and offered me the captain’s chair. “Okay, we’re in the Atlantic now. Stick to the mid-depths and watch out for whales,” she said. “Check the sonar and the GPS.”

  I followed the course she’d set. The engines whispered. We followed our headlight cones through the brown darkness.

  Suddenly Jaya shouted, “Watch out! Shark!”

  I whipped around to look. Something loomed on the sonar, and a moment later the headlights illuminated a huge, blunt snout dripping with teeth. I swerved just in time. With a flip of its tail, the shark vanished. “Will he follow us? Can he hurt the ship?” I asked.

  “Of course not. Are you afraid he’ll try to eat us? He’s not a goat. We’re basically a big tin can—pretty indigestible. I was worried about him, not us! We would hurt him if we rammed him.”

  “Or her,” said Auntie Shanti. She glanced at the GPS. “We’ll have cleared the coastal radar surveillance by now. It’s time to fly,” she said.

  “Me, me, let me!” cried Jaya.

  “All right. Take us up to eight thousand feet. Use the air button and the—”

  “Yes, I know. The alt lever. May I, Leo?” asked Jaya.

  “Buckle up, Leo,” said Auntie Shanti.

  I gave Jaya the captain’s seat and buckled myself into an armchair. She took us upward through the lightening sea. Just as we burst into sunlight, she pressed the air button, snapped the wings out, and leapt us into air.

  Up, up, up we went, the wings pumping like a heartbeat. The acceleration pressed me back into the armchair. We flew toward a fluffy cloud, which engulfed us, then let us go. We popped out into clear blue.

  “Engage the autoflight and the traffic avoidance now,” said Auntie Shanti.

  “I know. Please stop backseat piloting,” said Jaya.

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” said Auntie Shanti, grinning like her niece.