: Manhattan

Beth opened her eyes. The Imagination Station had landed on top of a large, tall building. She opened the passenger’s-side door. A bird instantly flew inside.

The bird’s white wings flapped. Feathers flew.

Beth waved her arms and said, “Shoo!”

The flurry of flapping stopped. The bird settled on Tesla’s shoulder. Beth could now see it was a white pigeon with gray wings. The bird gently pecked at Tesla’s ear. It seemed to be saying hello.

“Welcome, little beauty,” Tesla said to the pigeon.

Beth studied the scientist now that he was in the sunlight. Tesla’s hair was dark with flecks of gray. He had many fine wrinkles on his face. He still looked fit and trim even though he was older.

The scientist reached inside his jacket pocket. He pulled out some birdseed and held it in his open palm. The pigeon pecked and ate the small yellow seeds.

Beth climbed out of the Model T.

Tesla got out of the Imagination Station too. He shut the driver’s-side door. Then he opened and closed it two more times.

Beth wondered why the scientist closed the door three times. But she thought it would be rude to ask. So she kept quiet.

Next, Tesla tossed the rest of the birdseed on the ground. The bird flew off his shoulder to follow the seeds. A dozen more pigeons descended on the food and began pecking too. Their soft cooing was soothing.

Beth looked around the rooftop. At one end was a tarp that covered a large object. She thought perhaps it was an old air-conditioning unit.

Next she studied the city skyline. Many nearby buildings were taller than the one where she was. They also had spires on top.

Beth could see a wide river flowing a few blocks away. Boats chugged along the water. White clouds billowed from their stacks.

“The city is beautiful,” Beth said.

“Welcome to Manhattan,” Tesla said. He swept his arm as if to show off the city.

Beth was confused. “Mr. Inumaru said you lived in New York,” she said.

“Manhattan Island is only one section of New York City. In 1898 the city became larger. It spread out over four other areas,” Tesla said. “That was well before you were born.”

Beth thought, And even before my great-grandparents were born!

She said, “Oh yeah. How could I forget that?” She extended a hand to Tesla in greeting. “I already know who you are. My name is Beth.”

The scientist took a step backward. He pulled his hands close to his body and wrung them together.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I cannot shake your hand. I injured mine not long ago in a laboratory accident.”

“Did you burn them?” Beth asked. She took a step toward him. “Let me take a look. Do you need a doctor?”

Tesla stuffed both hands in his pants pockets. “Oh no,” he said. He backed farther away. “But your concern is noted.”

Beth looked at the Imagination Station. Its cracked windows made her sad. But she noticed it hadn’t vanished as it normally did.

She was curious how Tesla and the other in Tokyo could see it. And how he had appeared in the car in the first place. Usually the Imagination Station was invisible to everyone except Patrick and her.

“How did you get inside the . . . Model T to begin with?” Beth asked. After Eugene’s warning, she thought it best not to call it the Imagination Station.

“I was standing on the roof,” Tesla said. “Right where the car is now. It appeared in a transparent form. I walked toward it and touched the windshield . . .”

“And then what?” Beth asked. “Did you recognize the machine?”

Tesla nodded. “I think I’ve worked on something like it, but it was years ago,” he said. “I got inside and opened the glove box. The yellow meter was there. There was also a panel for putting in coordinates for longitude and latitude. I quickly decided it must be some sort of transporter. So I put in the coordinates for Serbia and turned the steering wheel. I don’t remember anything else until I saw you in Japan.”

Beth wondered about the roof in Manhattan. Maybe it was a portal for the Imagination Station.

“My friend Eugene Meltsner said you can help us. He must think you can fix this . . . umm . . . this transporter machine,” Beth said. She didn’t think Tesla should know it could move through time. “You must be somebody special.”

Tesla frowned. “I used to be,” he said. “But in New York you have to be smart and rich to be somebody. Another inventor, Mr. Edison, squeezed me out of my fortune.”

“Thomas Edison?” Beth said. “The man who invented the lightbulb?”

“Yes,” Tesla said, “but my alternating-current system powers the lights! I invented it. Nearly every light in the city runs because of my electric generators.”

Beth scratched her head. “Then you should be rich,” she said.

Tesla raised a hand to his temple as if in despair. He said, “I had to give my patent to Mr. Westinghouse, my investor. Thomas Edison nearly bankrupted him, too. Edison is a good businessman. I am not.”

Just then the Imagination Station’s headlights flashed and went out. Next the car’s speakers let out a blast of static. Then they went silent.

“The transporter machine isn’t working correctly,” Beth said. “I’d like your help repairing it so I can get back to Eugene. Or else he’ll spend the rest of his life in an Arkansas jail.”

“You say this Eugene is a criminal?” Tesla asked.

Beth sighed. “He’s in jail,” she said. “But it’s all a mistake. He works for Mr. Whittaker.”

“Ah! There’s a name I haven’t heard in years,” Tesla said and smiled.

Beth was surprised that Tesla had heard of Mr. Whittaker. How would someone in 1923 know him?

Then Tesla’s moustache twitched. He looked like a contented cat that had just caught a mouse.

“I remember now. Of course you need my help repairing the transporter machine,” he said. “I’m the one who invented it.”

Beth gasped. “That can’t be true!” she said. “I know for a fact Mr. Whittaker built it. I found it in his workshop.”

Tesla said, “John Avery Whittaker is another scoundrel. He must have stolen my patents for the cosmic induction generator. That’s what powers this transporter machine.”

“I can’t believe that,” Beth said. “Mr. Whittaker would never steal.”

“Well, then explain this,” Tesla said. He walked over to the Imagination Station and opened the hood.

Beth looked at the engine. It was made with electrical coils and rectangular metal grids.

On top of the largest coil was a small metal plate. The words on the plate said Tesla Electric Light & Manufacturing. Then the scientist took the yellow electronic gizmo out of his pocket. The meter lit up. A red light flashed.

“Is that a voltage meter?” Beth asked.

Tesla shook his head. “It measures radiation. This engine is powered by cosmic radiation converted to electric current.”

Beth remembered her adventure in Babylon. “The meter lit up when I was near a lightning strike,” she said.

“Exactly,” Tesla said. “I’m trying to harness energy from the atmosphere. I mean I have harnessed it and turned it into electricity.”

Beth didn’t understand what the inventor was talking about. But she did know Whit hadn’t stolen anything.

“I have the patents,” Tesla said. “I filed one of them more than twenty years ago.”

“So you can help us fix it?” Beth said. Hope welled up inside her.

“Of course I can,” Tesla said. He slammed the car hood shut with a loud bang. “But only after I prove to you that I invented it!”