Gretel stared at the dark storm clouds gathering over the Metropolies district through the domed glass ceiling of Tesla’s lab. Under normal circumstances, she would have felt energized by this particular weather pattern. Instead, she felt drained, and for more reasons than one. Her journey home the previous night had taken several unexpected detours. First, she’d found herself in the throes of battle with a rather curious girl named Marceau, who claimed to be from another frequency. Second, she was questioned by a squad of Dispatchers upon attempting to access a secret security tunnel which would have gotten her back to the lab faster. And third, even after a series of frantic calls forced the squad off her trail to protect the wall, she discovered that the tunnel was sealed halfway down anyway. Upon arriving back to the lab, she found Tesla wide awake, and understandably quite furious. “We will discuss this in the morning,” he had said.
She had been sitting in his specialized electric chair for almost ten minutes now as the inventor paced about the room in a fit of anxiety. The silence was maddening. If he didn’t say something soon, she was about to send a bolt of lightning up through the ceiling to break the glass and shatter the tension by force. But as it was, she had exhausted the majority of her energy fighting off that stupid girl. She needed to recharge, and soon.
“Just what the hell were you thinking?!” the man blurted out. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”
“The phase unit works,” Gretel replied, clenching her teeth.
“That’s not the point! Do you have any idea what would have happened to you if it hadn’t? Or, god forbid, if it backfired?!”
“But it didn’t. Besides, you ought to thank me-”
“THANK you?!- ”
”We now know what the test runs couldn’t tell us!” the girl shouted. “It works.”
“Goddamn it!” the man wiped the sweat from his brow. “It is dangerous for you to be out there alone, do you understand?!”
“I thought we moved past this. You said you trusted me.”
“It isn’t you I don’t trust,” Tesla sighed.
“I can take care of myself without using my powers. I know to call the Dispatchers-”
“Come here, let me show you something,” Nikola cut her off, stepping over to his work desk to swipe an array of metal parts off a stack of papers. Gretel stood and joined him as he spread ten of the sheets out on the table and flicked on the lamp. It was a listing of time stamps arranged in rows of thirteen each, with matching dates and coordinates for every line. “Notice anything off about those numbers?”
“Looks like energy fluctuations in the power grid…not all of them were caused by our coils.”
“Exactly. Which means that somehow, somewhere, there is an anomaly the Dispatchers have been unable to catch.”
“And you think it will be drawn to my electrical energy, is that it?” She stared at him. The inventor sighed. “That’s all the more reason for me to be out there! I could help them destroy it.”
“It’s more likely you would get caught in the crossfire. It’s suicide, Gretel! I need you here.”
“We can’t just sit idly by anymore while these things wreak havoc on Viktorium. They’re getting stronger. You know that, right? Eventually, we’re going to have to ramp up weapons production.”
“It’s a fact I’ve hoped to avoid for some time. I refuse to be as reckless as Charles. Weapons production was his department of expertise, not mine. Although I suppose I’m not entirely averse to the idea of reconnaissance for now…I do have a few ideas as to where we might start. Not that I am by any means comfortable with you going out there.”
“And that would be?”
“Mayor La Cour, for one.” Tesla backed away from the table and began pacing again.
“That’s why wants his own phase unit…” Gretel thought aloud. “He doesn’t feel safe. Those timestamps correlate to his location as he moves. If you look at yesterday’s dates, he was strolling around Morcourt when the power flickered. My god, it all makes sense now! The increased security from last year, staggered public appearances, the main Dispatcher units drawn farther away from the Metropolies and as far down as the Barreau District…what frequency are the fluctuations?”
Gretel’s heart immediately sank. She had resigned last night not to speak a word to the old man about her chance encounter with that strange girl who called herself Marceau, and yet this was much too close for comfort. 705 Hertz was the same frequency she had zapped her young friend back to, and to know that girl was possibly the one causing these fluctuations gave Gretel an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Of course she would be the one going into the field, not Nikola.
Yet still, something rubbed her the wrong way about the possibility of hunting down Marceau. What would happen if they were to meet again? As it was, it didn’t seem as though the girl had hurt anyone. Harmless fluctuations were harmless fluctuations, and it wasn’t their job to keep track of the anomalies themselves. But Gretel understood the danger all the same; Constance Renou demanded monthly reports of any power flux that occurred on the Metropolies grid. If she were to discover that they were harboring knowledge of any not caused by Tesla’s experiments and did not inform her, they were screwed. The woman had already threatened them with eviction on several occasions, talking up her own scientists, whom she claimed were just as competent as Tesla himself. It didn’t help, either, that Renou owned the patents for every piece of Dispatcher technology. She could easily put an end to all their hard work in the blink of an eye.
Gretel felt torn between protecting a potential friend and protecting her mentor, whom she loved as a father figure. He had treated her better than her own parents ever had, and yet it seemed her own coming of age was driving a tangible rift between them. Tesla had grown naive and ever more reclusive since Charles’ exile, and so where danger lurked, she did her best to encourage him to step up. But the way she saw it, they did have two distinct advantages. For one, Marceau was not an anomaly, and therefore not an immediate threat. Off-chart fluctuations, though they certainly existed, were a rare occurrence at this juncture. And two, Constance Renou had no knowledge of the phase unit they had built for Mayor La Cour. There was still time to prepare for the worst possible scenario.
“So how do we proceed?” Gretel asked. “The unit it ready. I can tinker with it if need be, adjust the frequency to match.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Tesla shook his head. “We’re not going to give it to him. Not just yet, and certainly not with the welcome gala around the corner. This kind of technology is incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands, especially with the possibility of the Outlanders having returned to the city. Do you understand why my concerns for you are twofold?”
“Noted,” the girl rolled her eyes. “But these problems are bigger than either of us. For better or worse, we’ve inherited them, just as the rest of this city has inherited the failures of Charles DuPont. Somebody’s got to keep watch over the innocent and hold those in power accountable. And who better than the two of us?”
“We’re not superheroes, my dear,” Tesla smirked.
“Well, you’re not. I’m not entirely sure I am either. Doesn’t mean we can’t help them whenever they do come along.”
“What the devil are you talking about?”
“I’m not sure,” Gretel shook her head. “Just a feeling, I suppose. I’ve got to collect my thoughts.” She got up from the chair and made her way across the lab back to the large steel door of her room.
“Don’t take too long,” Nikola called. “Storm will pass in about fifteen minutes. I’d like to charge the coils before then.”
“I know. I’m on it.”
Gretel twisted the wheel on the door to unlock it and stepped over the threshold, closing the hatch securely behind her. She turned on the light. The room was little more than a closet space with a bunk bed, a work table, and a few shelves for books, but she didn’t mind. She always did enjoy a bit more solitude than most. Moving for the bed, she knelt down and lifted up the end of her mattress to retrieve the burnt, shredded hunk of Dalishkova gauntlet that had adorned Marceau’s wrist the previous night.
For a while, she sat there with it on the floor, running her delicate fingers over the rough textures. Curious. There seemed to be a bit of power still emanating from it, though markedly faint. It was similar in nature to that which had come from the amulet she’d received from Ermina on the subway, though she did not sense this was an object intended for direct influence. It did, however, possess some type of electromagnetic charge. Gretel closed her eyes and allowed the power to surge through her in an attempt to amplify the resonant frequency. Much of the circuitry was fried, but she was able to charge it just enough. A loud metal clang startled her out of concentration, and the shock was so strong that it sent waves vibrating up her arms. She immediately dropped the device and looked down in awe.
She’d left a butter knife on her work table earlier that morning after eating a biscuit, and somehow it seemed to have flown several feet across the room and attached itself to the gauntlet. Gretel held the hunk of metal up to the light to get a closer look. She tried prying the knife off with all her might, yet it did not budge until she sent another surge of electricity through it to reverse the polarity. So that’s how you moved your sword so fast.
“Marceau, who are you?”
The lights flickered.