Tesla, Jason Walker [reading cloud ebooks TXT] 📗

speaking with a potential investor, but he was desperate and didn’t have the time or the resources to change into something more presentable.

Brent Black answered the door. His eyes widened as he gave the younger man on his front stoop a quick once-over. Dishevelled hair, clothes askew, a generally unkempt appearance and is that soot on his shirt? This wasn’t the dapper, put-together inventor that Brent had gotten to know over the many months they’d frequented similar social circles and gatherings, but it was the famed inventor, nonetheless.

“Nikola Tesla,” he said, stunned. Then, his voice grew louder—more jovial—and a smile formed on his lips. “Good evening, my friend! Tell me, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Tesla tried to return the smile, but it wavered. “Good evening, Mr Black. Please, may I come inside?”

“Mister? Bah. Please, my friend, call me Brent!” He stepped to the side of the doorway and motioned Tesla inside. “Please, come in.”

Tesla walked briskly into Black’s home with a gracious nod of thanks, trying to appear casual to hide his nervousness.

Black grinned like a schoolboy. Just seeing Tesla had gotten the man’s heart racing. He led his guest into the sitting room, where flames were roaring in the fireplace, and they each sat in soft, luxurious armchairs. “What’s on your mind, Nikola?” Black asked as Tesla set his bag of bread next to his chair.

“I don’t suppose you heard any gossip today, have you?” Tesla asked and searched his host’s eyes. “About my lab or any buildings which caught fire?”

“I—” the man began, and then suddenly, his face changed. “My goodness! Your lab?” Black gasped. “I mean, I heard word of a building which caught fire on Fifth Avenue while I dined with an acquaintance, but I didn’t—it was your building?”

“My lab was on the fourth floor, yes,” Tesla said with resignation.

“My goodness. I’m so sorry, my friend.” Black stood and moved to a cart alongside the chairs with bottles of brown alcohol. He picked up a pair of matching tumblers. “Might I offer you a drink?”

Tesla nodded. “I don’t normally drink.”

“Bourbon or scotch?”

Tesla cringed at the memory of Edison and the others drinking bourbon at Eiffel’s secret gathering six years ago. He also hearkened back to his friendship with Sir James Dewar and replied, “I’d rather have coffee to be truthful. Is that a possibility?”

Black nodded his head. “Certainly,” he said as he poured himself a drink and then walked over to a coffee pot in the kitchen. He tested the coffee that was in it but it was too old to offer to his friend, so he took a kettle and filled it with water. Then, he brought the stove to boil. When he returned from the kitchen, he picked up his own drink and spoke to his friend. “Coffee won’t be but a minute, Nikola. I’ll brew you up a fresh pot of some Columbian roast that you will very much like . . . the smell of. Now, From what I heard, the fire was horrendous.” He clinked ice cubes into the tumbler. “Destroyed the entire building.”

“I watched it. It did.”

“What happened, if I may ask?” Black poured the fine single malt. “Did someone leave a fireplace unattended? Knocked over a lantern, a candle?”

Tesla shook his head as he took the mug of coffee that Black offered him. “I’m afraid it was nothing so mundane.”

Black raised his eyebrows at Tesla. “Do you think it was arson?”

“Without a doubt.”

“But who would—”

“Someone who wants my research destroyed and me dead.”

Tesla could recall catching George Scherff Junior, only fourteen years old, reading through his notebooks in the lab. The boy was into everything. In fact, it was so apparent that Tesla had taken to using the phrase curious as George. While Tesla didn’t think that the boy had any ill mirth about him, Tesla supposed that the boy might have spread word to his father, George Scherff Senior.

Still, that wasn’t something Tesla wanted to consider. He greatly trusted the boy’s father. He hoped that they weren’t telling anyone about his various projects.

Black sucked in a deep breath. “Do you think it was Edison?”

“It’s possible,” Tesla said. He still wasn’t entirely sure the old dog could do it to him. Despite their rivalry, they had been friends once, hadn’t they? But he sighed. “Especially considering all the rumours he’s been spreading about alternating currents, going so far as to electrocute animals.”

Black took a sip of his whiskey and leaned toward Tesla. “Really? Ol’ Tom is certainly an elephant in the room, then.”

“But he’s not the only elephant. Not even my top suspect.”

“Who could possibly hate you more than Edison?”

Tesla smirked, but the levity soon faded. “I didn’t say the person hates me, necessarily, but they wanted to send a message.”

“A message. My goodness,” Black said breathlessly. He wasn’t used to such intrigue. “Who would do it?”

Tesla took a drink as though any beverage could stand in for liquid courage. “Do you know J. P. Morgan?”

“J. P.?” Black scoffed with amusement. “Surely men like Morgan would rather destroy you than kill you.”

“Morgan approached me about joining a secret club. Some little cloak and dagger thing. I think it was to control my inventions and me—to slow down my advances and ensure that they could continue profiting from my previous patents. A couple of days ago, I declined his offer. He didn’t seem bothered by it at the time, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he arranged for this . . . accident.”

Black pensively stared into the fire for several moments. “I could make some calls, my friend. I can look into it for you.”

Tesla smiled weakly. “Thank you, truly.”

“Think nothing of it. I won’t hear another word about it.” Black raised his glass to the inventor, then took a seat beside him and sipped his whiskey.

“I was also asked to go to several social gatherings with my business manager, but I haven’t done anything like that for quite some time, so I doubt this vile act could have been orchestrated by someone within those circles. My bet is on Morgan,” said Tesla.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping at and refilling their drinks, before Tesla spoke again, “Mr Black—”

“Please, Nikola, call me Brent,” Black said kindly.

“Brent, has anyone been asking questions about my designs to . . . improve the Statue of Liberty?”

Black tilted his head. “The secret room?”

Tesla nodded.

Black rubbed his chin in thought.

Months ago, Nikola had been hired through a mutual contact of his and Black’s from Washington. Tesla had been hired to secretly design a wireless transmission system and discreetly place it inside the torch of the Statue of Liberty, and Brent Black was the only person outside of Tesla and the people who hired him who were aware of the project. At least, that’s what Tesla had been told. But after this attack on his lab, he wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

Black shook his head. “If they’re asking, they aren’t asking me.”

Tesla sunk back into the armchair and put his forehead in his free hand. He was relieved that no one had been poking their noses around Brent Black, but that did not mean there weren’t interested parties snooping about for information regarding Tesla’s government contracts, and that notion worried him more than if they were just discussing it with Black.

Picking up on his friend’s concern, Black decided to change the subject. “What are your plans following this fiasco?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. I might be able to get a loaner lab from Thomas if he’s feeling up to helping an old rival, but you know him. Nothing is guaranteed.”

Black snorted. “No offence intended, but why would Edison want to lend you a lab?”

Tesla chuckled dryly. “I know it sounds strange, but he has extended the offer to me before. I don’t see why he would rescind it now.”

“Again, why would he lend a lab to you?”

“Well, he’s always relished an association, at least in name, to my work.”

“Yes, if by relish you mean taken credit for,” said Black and harrumphed loudly.

Tesla smiled a bit. “Well, if not out of the kindness of his cold heart, then more to keep an eye on me. That’s my guess.”

“Ha!” Black barked amused. “He wants to keep tabs on my progress and might even try to sabotage some of my experiments if my projects advance too quickly for his comfort.”

Black hesitated, then asked, “Do you think that has anything to do with him being a Master Mason?”

Nikola sipped his drink. “Without a doubt.”

“Are you sure that’s the only way you can access a new lab?”

Tesla sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Until I can afford to lease one somewhere else, yes. I have no other options. Everything went up in flames, Brent. My hands are tied here.”

Black took a long, deliberate sniff then sipped his whiskey. “What would it take to get you back to your work?”

“Money.”

“Well, that’s an area where I can provide you with some aid.” He raised a hand the instant he saw the inventor open his mouth to decline. “And I won’t hear a lick of protest from you, you stubborn mule.”

“Are you certain?” Tesla asked.

“It might take some doing, but I believe I can find the funds for you sooner rather than later.”

Tesla couldn’t help but smile broadly, though exhausted. “Thank you, my friend. Thank you truly.”

Black grinned and patted Nikola’s arm kindly. “Again, think nothing of it. We’ll get you all set up and find out who did this to you.”

“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

“I’m always happy to help a friend.” Black’s eyes twinkled. “We can arrange a more official investment contract in the morning. There are some problems that I’m experiencing with machinery in my warehouses. Maybe you can help me fix them. For now, though,” he said, raising his glass, “we drink.”

Tesla smiled with appreciation. “Well,” Tesla said as he set his glass on the knee-high table in front of them, “I should go find a place to stay for the night so I might have the strength to face Edison tomorrow.”

Brent waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense. You’ll stay here.”

“Brent, I can’t. You’re far too generous—”

“I insist.”

Black rose and extended a warm hand to the inventor. Tesla took it and shook it with respect.

 

For the next few months, Tesla reluctantly worked and slept in Edison’s loaner lab, well aware that his competition was watching his every move, making notes of his advancements and keeping track of how far along he was getting, although Tesla was hesitant to make any real progress during this time except to help his friend Brent Black, who had come to his aid. But there was no quieting the determined heart or the busy mind of his. Tesla couldn’t remain still—or move slowly—for too long.

Fortunately, Mr Black proved true to his word and procured the financing Tesla needed for his own arrangements, which allowed Nikola to move out of Edison’s lab without so much as a farewell.

By July 1895, Tesla had