Free The Tesla Gate: A SciFi Short Story by Drew Avera Page A

into." There were no words to describe his emotional state, but the quiver of his lips and the moist, redness of his eyes revealed everything I needed to know about the fragile person standing before me. The future was looking bleak for the older man and the past was the only place where he truly knew happiness.
    I hesitated to say anything, but it was my duty as his friend and collaborator to speak up. "Sam, we have no way of knowing if what you are asking is possible. I've laid the foundation for this kind of work throughout my entire adult life, yet I still don't feel any closer to the endgame than the day you approached me about your dear Susy.” My words stung; I could see it written on his face, my prose of disappointment washing over him.
    His lifted hand interrupted any further words I might have added. "I don't want to hear it, Nik," he said. "I don't mean to be rude, but my time is better served elsewhere, honoring my beloved. I know you are doing all you can, and the problems of an old, lonely man are only interfering with progress."
    I felt ashamed at the fact I was agreeing with his statement, he was indeed holding everything up, but I dared not speak it. This experiment was his idea and it was driving both of us to our graves, he more rapidly than I.
    "If you need anything..."
    "Yeah," he said, waving the unopened letters before placing them back on the table. "I know." His bushy eyebrows revealed more about the sardonically charged statement than anything else.
    I stood still as Sam walked past me, leaving me to my work, but as he left it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. I moved over to the table and opened the most recent letter he had written to me. Within the first few lines the reason for his visit became clear. Another of his loved ones had passed, this time it was Olivia, his wife.
     
    May, 1905
    "Eight months and not a single semi-successful attempt!" I tossed my pen and paper across the room, the fluttering of pages passing harmlessly through the figment of my imagination. I could hardly call her a friend now, if truly, I ever really could. The truth was she was grating on my last nerve with her incessant questions and suggestions. I was a man who preferred working alone. Despite what outsiders saw in the room when they looked at me, I was far from alone.
    "Yet," she suggested with a smile, but it was a condescending one and I knew it. I shared the same brain patterns.
    "Is it really necessary for you to kick me when I'm down?" I asked. "One would assume it was a form of sadism."
    I reached down to pick up my scattered scribbling. The last year's worth of notes provided no inspiration for solving my power issues. Maybe if I still worked for Edison and had the resources at his disposal then I could gain new ground, but I would never go crawling back to that egotistical quack.
    "I'm sorry, but I'm just trying to help." Her eyes betrayed her well-intending words. This was our life now, locked in a stalemate of mutual compliance and passive-aggressive rumination.
    "Don’t trouble yourself," I said, dismissing the conflict altogether. I had more important things to burn energy on than arguing with, essentially, myself. My mind drifted to my college years and when I first experienced her voice. I was overworked and undercompensated, not to mention the fact my father showed little-to-no interest in my academic success. It wasn't long before her voice was as dominate as my own and I cracked under the pressure of it all. I quit school before completing my studies and joined the military. That did little to set things right.
    "Why are your memories of me always so dark?" Alokin's voice was more melancholy than anything else.
    "Why do you exist merely to make me feel so divided?" I retorted.
    She closed her eyes and stood to leave. Every time she was emotional it was harder to see her as she seemingly blinked in and out of existence. If she could touch matter, then I suspected she might slam