Tesla, Jason Walker [reading cloud ebooks TXT] 📗

OBLITERATING THE DEEP STATE SERIES

BOOK I

TESLA

BY

JASON WALKER

 

Many thanks

to Dario, Giusy, and Maxwell for their work on this story!

 

I dedicate this novel to all those people out there who are realizing that we’ve been lied to our entire lives in regards to our real human history and also about the technology that we’ve been prevented from having, which could advance us to colonize other planets and explore our solar system in its entirety.

 

To people like Tom Paladino and Nancy Jackson who are helping thousands of people get treated with scalar energy – I thank you for what you are doing. Their website can be found at: https://www.scalarlight.com

 

To determined minds that are going toe to toe against the cabal like Lt. Col. (Ret’d) Riccardo Bosi and the Australia One Party over in Australia, I salute you all and look forward to the day when we see the evil ones hang in the gallows following military trials. Please support this political party. https://australiaoneparty.com

 

He who dares wins.

 

Prologue The night of January 7th, 1943—8:45 p.m.

Inside the massive kitchen of the New Yorker Hotel, a man from room service made a pot of coffee. He filled the metal pot and put it on his trolley. Passed two pieces of toasted sourdough from the night watch cook, he carefully placed the buttered toast under a brilliantly polished silver dome just the right size for the silver-rimmed plate. The room service attendant placed the platter on a well-oiled trolley, then slowly rolled the trolley out of the kitchen toward the service elevator.

Once inside the elevator, he was taken up to the nineteenth floor, where he exited the elevator and walked down the hall, his trolley gliding in front of him over the plush carpeted hallway. He walked down the hallway until he got to the door to the fire escape staircase. He softly knocked on the fire door, and out came another towering dark-haired man dressed in the same uniform. The two nodded at each other and passed each other silently, knowing the insipid nature of the operation at hand. The room service attendant who brought the trolley up to the nineteenth floor then exited calmly down the stairs, his part in the transfer now complete, while the other expressionless man who had come from the stairwell took up the task of delivering the serving trolley to its final destination, the thirty-third floor.

The thirty-third-floor corridor walls were darkly polished mahogany panels dimly lit by wall sconces powered by huge DC generators many floors below in the hotel basement. The rich red carpet was thick beneath him, leaving an imprint of his shiny black Oxfords behind the trolley tracks. The sloppily dressed thirties-looking room service attendant, who could barely button up his service coat due to his size, gave the door a knock. A few moments later, Nikola Tesla emerged. He was an elderly man, with skin sagging under cheekbones that belied a sparse diet, but there was still something sharp about the look in old Nikola’s eyes.

The attendant brought in the pot of coffee and put it, along with the domed sandwich plate, on the table, which was cluttered with a disorganized pile of paperwork and notes, then said, as he turned to leave, “I hope you have a good night, sir.”

Nikola reached into his pocket and tried to give the huge man a small tip even though he hardly had a penny to his name. The service man knew this and was quite polite when he looked at Mr Tesla, saying in a deep voice, disguising a familiar motherland dialect, “Thank you, Mr Tesla, but that isn’t necessary.” After wishing Mr Tesla a good night, he gently shut the door behind him and hurried back down the hallway to the elevator. Inside the elevator, another employee—equally dishevelled in bell hop attire—was waiting for him. He stood there, holding the door open. As soon as they were both inside it, the doors snapped shut and they disappeared.

Inside his room, the inventor was reading over one of his older diaries. This one had been kept down in the hotel safe, but most of his other diaries were at the bottom of sea trunks that he had been keeping in different storage locations strewn across the city of New York, keeping with his long trail of outstanding hotel bills. He was examining the entries he’d made to see if he could refresh his memory about the work he had done back in the 1920s on scalar energy and using the bio-field of an object that would be captured in a photograph to find either a person of or an object of interest. He knew that every single thing that was alive vibrated at its own unique frequency and also had a field of energy that encapsulated it.

The elderly inventor had already proven in experiments that he could learn the bio-field frequency of an object or person from a picture and use it to find what he was searching for, locating that person or object anywhere on the planet. But his thoughts now were about the mining industry. If he took an image of a large piece of gold that was over a kilogram in size, his thinking was that he could use scalar energy fields to establish a new way of finding large gold nuggets that hadn’t been dug up yet.

This excitement in Nikola had come about by the recent correspondence he’d received from the owner of a mining company situated in South Africa. The owner had written to him after reading one of Tesla’s papers, and it had prompted him to write to the famous inventor to see if Tesla could come up with a better way of finding large gold nuggets or gold deposits in his home country.

As Nikola continued to read through the pages, his mind played back the many memories that he had where he’s been able to build his first scalar wave generator, which when turned on had successfully lit up every fluorescent bulb that Tesla had placed in the room—and none of them were plugged in! From there, his confidence had grown, hypothesizing how else he could use this amazing discovery, and that had led him to make a small personal antigravity platform using scalar energy waves, which he’d been able to fly with outside of his own lab and apartment without being seen by anyone. How he’d marvelled in those moments of discovery! Every time he was successful, it built his self-esteem and confidence to the point where he was willing to step out of the box and think about ways to manifest new ideas and concepts. Those smaller projects had also given him the courage to pursue his plan to develop a flying disk, which he went on to create with his assistant Otis Carr. They’d since lost contact, but he hoped his friend was doing well. He hoped that Otis had continued with their experiments.

After five minutes of focused concentration, contemplating how to use scalar energy for health and wellness, he got up from the table and paced about the room for a few moments as thoughts surfaced about some pressing matters that his business advisor and friend Mr George Scherff Senior told him not to worry about. Another hotel had demanded he make good on his unpaid bill from the previous year, and that was bothering him, making him lose his focus, and holding him back from gathering all his fragmented thoughts into coherent genius. They were holding a few prototype models plus his documents and notebooks that he’d asked them to keep safe until such time as he paid his bill in full. There were many things he wanted to re-read again, but maybe he could get some new ideas on his scalar wave gold-finding technology while he slept.

Exhaustion threatened to overtake him as he stood looking out his window, sipping coffee, consumed by complex matters that kept him in a perpetual state of anxiety. He could see people still walking about down below on the snowy sidewalks and streets in front of the hotel going every which way. Suddenly, a pigeon flew by his window, causing him to break into a smile. He liked the pigeons very much and thought of the many happy moments he’d had feeding them in the nearby park. After a few minutes of people watching, he closed the curtain and walked back to the tray that the toast was still resting on. He sat down beside it and began eating. Tesla was pleasantly surprised by how good it tasted. Top-notch sourdough.

After finishing his evening meal, Nicola sat at the edge of his bed as he talked himself through the molecular structure of gold. He undid his shoes, and then once they were off of his feet, he took off his socks to flex his toes numerous times, a habit of his that seemed to assist him in enhancing circulation to his brain and body. He scratched an itch on his face and raked fingers through his hair. But before he went to bed for the night, he wanted to try and stay up for a little longer to figure out how to build a device that could copy the bio-field frequency of an object—such as gold—from a photograph, and then be able to find that object in the ground someplace in South Africa.

Tesla wondered a second time if he needed to sleep on it and to just stop pushing himself too hard. He needed the money that this potential investor had, though, so he could continue to work. He sighed and put down the hand towel. He looked at the clock that was ticking away on the wall. It was now 9:30 p.m.

He just had to work this problem out! It was bothering him like yet another itch on his face that couldn’t be scratched. He was so close. And so Tesla continued to labour, grinding down his pencil as the night wore on. By midnight, his eyes were heavy, prompting him to take a rest. Nikola made a promise to himself that he would only sleep for a few hours and then be right back up to work away at his latest drawing and design for his helicopter plane. As he sunk down on his bed, it seemed to beckon him to rest for a while.

By 11 a.m. the next day, Tesla hadn’t turned up to work in his lab—the one that Mr Westinghouse had kindly assisted in funding. It was highly unusual for him to behave in this manner. Tesla spent more time working in his lab than he did around actual people. He was always the first one there and the last one to leave. His latest lab assistant, Peter Ivanovic, had shown up at the regular time for work, which was 8 a.m. Once inside the lab, he gathered a list of equipment and materials that Mr Tesla had told him he would need for the day’s experiments. By 10 a.m., the inventor hadn’t turned up to work, so Peter waited patiently while continuing to do things around the laboratory in anticipation of Mr Tesla’s arrival.

However, concern for his boss’s safety prompted Peter to see if he was being held up at his hotel. He threw on his winter overcoat, stalked