Tesla cursed as he adjusted the controls of the Space-Time Machine. He had barely managed to get himself out of there before they dismantled his ship. He wished he could say the same for that poor Brown fellow. He was only a few hundred feet away from the safety of the ship when his body was riddled with arrows. “Don’t worry, ” he shouted, as Tesla retreated to the safety of the ship, “My friend Marty will be around to fix all of this soon. I’ve made arrangements.”

Tesla cleared his mind of all of that, and thought of the mission at hand. He had to find some way of getting Emily Dickinson back to Twain.

Suddenly it came to him. If someone made an android Poe, they could, just as easily, make an android Dickinson. It would be easier than trying to convince the real one to go with him. Tesla opened a compartment next to his feet and took out the hefty Space-Time Yellow Pages. He searched until he found The Asimov Android Company. He set the coordinates and prepared for the jump.