Tesla, Jason Walker [reading cloud ebooks TXT] 📗

Tesla huffed. “I’ve told you time and again, George, I want electricity to be free.”

“Free! My boy, nothing is free,” Westinghouse barked with laughter. He was already getting drunk. “Materials come at a cost, my man!”

“I want to create a way to supply power without stringing wires. I’ve nearly accomplished this with the creation of my coil. It will be the first system that can wirelessly transmit electricity.” He was certain he could achieve this. He was so close. As soon as he was free from his obligations with Westinghouse, he would return to his laboratory and complete his work.

“Until you conjure up this extraordinary method of yours, of which I have no doubt you will, how do you suggest you pay for your research? Hm? Money! And I am willing to give you money for alternating current.”

Tesla sighed and indulged the man. “What price do you suppose would be fair for something like that?”

“Well, as far as I see it, one lump sum would be a rather poor deal for you,” Westinghouse began. “I suggest we proceed with a royalty system. I’ll pay you a set amount for every watt generated. That way, for as long as the alternating current is profitable, you’ll make money from it.”

Tesla sat in silence, mulling over the deal. It wasn’t a terrible offer.

“What do you say?” Westinghouse asked him.

With income, Nikola would be free from debt. He would be able to work in peace and quiet, and he could offer the world the very thing it needed to move into the twentieth century.

With that thought, he made a decision. “Very well,” he said and extended his hand to Westinghouse.

The men shook hands and then toasted each other with what was left of their drinks.

Tesla would never see a penny of those royalties. Westinghouse turned his back on the verbal agreement, with no physically documented proof of the deal. With no mind for business, Tesla agreed to let the matter go, and Westinghouse never paid him for the rights to the alternating current—possibly the greatest innovation mankind had ever achieved. If he had managed to get it, that would have been the greatest royalty agreement ever made.

Tesla sat in an armchair in his lab, his head resting in his hand. Exhaustion had built over decades of misfortune and missteps. It had caught up with him and finally overwhelmed him.

Before his successful harnessing of Niagara Falls’ potential power, the War of the Currents had almost destroyed him. And once he proved his abilities as a master of electricity, Edison had worked tirelessly to defame Nikola. Thomas had continued to spread vicious rumours about the dangers of alternating current technology. He had publicly electrocuted a dog and a donkey with alternating current on two separate occasions. Just thinking back on the incidents put a foul taste in Tesla’s mouth.

Nikola was sickened when he thought of the animals harmed by Thomas in his ego-driven pursuit of greatness. Tesla was an avid animal lover and ethical inventor. He would never experiment on innocent creatures as Edison had. Just imagining something happening to one of the beloved pigeons he fed sent a shiver down his spine.

Tesla had thought that moving his operations to Colorado, far from the prying eyes of Edison and his allies, would turn his fortune around. For a while, it seemed to have worked. Some of his contacts had helped him secure land, and the clean air had aided his experiments. Morgan had even thrown 150,000 US dollars at him for his Wardenclyffe Tower project, which involved tapping into the ionosphere and generating millions of volts of electricity. Morgan had also purchased the rights to 51% of Nikola’s radio wave technologies. Tesla had funding and the space to freely experiment. It was perfect.

Then it all came to a grinding halt. Tesla had realized the destructive potential of his ionosphere project. He knew that if the military of any country got a hold of his research, they would use it to bring down more than two million volts of energy from the ionosphere and destroy cities. He couldn’t allow that. Tesla would never place himself in a position to become the destroyer of worlds.

Even now, sitting in his chair and fighting off his looming depression, Tesla shuddered at the idea of what his inventions could become in the hands of evil men. He would never weaponize this technology but others might. There was no way he would ever allow it to be fully unleashed upon the Earth, so he came up with a plan that included representatives from around the world being given a piece of his puzzle and each country would have to work with the others in order to be able to utilize his technology. He hoped that would prevent mankind from destroying each other.

Tesla sighed. I’m such a hypocrite, he thought as he recalled the particle accelerator technology, which he had been working on for over a year now. He stood and put his hands in his pockets as he walked around his lab, looking at the device.

In truth, it wasn’t strictly a “death ray.” It was a particle beam weapon that could drop ten thousand planes over a range of two hundred and fifty miles. His device accelerated minute particles and sped them up so fast that only a few would have dire consequences on whatever they hit. However, the phrase “death ray” had seemed more marketable at the time. He never was good at branding. That was Thomas’ talent.

At the very least, he thought it would grab the attention of the prospective buyer he wanted to parade it before: the United States government. He had wanted to build twelve towers for the United States so that it could stop any country from behaving inappropriately or attacking America, and yet they had declined. Perhaps it had been the cost, which he had placed at two million dollars. Perhaps it had been Thomas’ doing—words whispered in the ears of powerful men in Washington. Tesla would never know for sure. He also wouldn’t foresee the government stealing this technology and developing it for themselves nearly a decade later.

Tesla looked down at the letter on the table before him. It was a response to the correspondence regarding his particle beam technology he had sent to Russia following his rejection by Washington. The Russians seemed very interested, asking him many questions about the technology and how it worked. A glimmer of hope flickered in his chest. Perhaps Russia would find a use for his developments and pay him for them. He had become desperate at this point. As much as he despised monetizing scientific developments, he needed investors to back his pursuits. Only Brent Black had continued to back him after all these years, and Tesla wasn’t sure how much longer that would last.

“Your projects are becoming too expensive,” Brent had told him the last time they had spoken to each other. “You need to scale them back.”

“You can’t put a price or a limit on scientific discovery.”

“But two million dollars? Is it any wonder that the government said no?”

“The uses will far exceed the costs!”

“Nikola, I like you, and I can continue to fund your smaller projects, but this . . . it’s too much. I don’t think you’re going to find any investor willing to put that much into something so far beyond our time. Not when you’re the only one who’s certain it will work.”

Tesla reached forward to pick up the letter. It was written in Russian, but he knew what it said and felt that it was promising. He set the letter back down and looked around at his massive, high-end laboratory. He would have to prove Brent wrong, or else he might lose everything.