Free The Forever Engine by Frank Chadwick Page B

combinations—or has his hired lackeys do so—until something works. He has no idea how or why it does so. He is not a scientist. He is a tinker , and a thief to boot!”
    I remembered something about the disputes between Tesla and Edison from my own time. Edison had clung to direct current and Tesla had promoted alternating current, eventually winning what people called The Current War . Maybe I could use that to settle him down.
    “If it’s any consolation,” I said, “before he died, Edison said his greatest regret in life was not listening to you on the controversy over alternating versus direct current.”
    Tesla looked at me, his eyebrows rising in surprise.
    “That is interesting,” he answered, “since he stole my plans and ideas for alternating-current generators and is manufacturing them even now. That is why I returned to Europe. There is nothing left for me in America.”
    Shit! No Current War here, apparently.
    “Listened to you about compensation,” I added quickly, making it up as I went. “If he had paid you fairly, and you had stayed and worked with him, who knows what you might have come up with together?”
    Tesla studied me for several seconds, eyes calculating. Then he looked away.
    “Edison is a man of appalling personal habits, a filthy man, and with no interests beyond accumulation of wealth. I could not have worked long with him.”
    “I have never met the man,” Thomson said, “but I confess I have heard similar judgments from others. We are doubly fortunate you were available. Surely this must excite your scientific curiosity. Will you help us understand this phenomenon?”
    Tesla looked at him and I could see something about the question amused him, some private joke.
    “I do not know if I can shed light on this matter. It is too soon to say for certain.” That wasn’t what I was hoping to hear, especially after he’d seemed so engaged in the physics discussion. “There is much to absorb,” he went on, “much to think about. But I have previous engagements on the continent which I must attend to.”
    “We are bound for the continent ourselves,” Thomson said. “Would you consider joining our party and traveling with us?”
    Tesla looked from Thomson to me and considered the possibility, but then shook his head.
    “No, I am afraid that is not possible. I will think more on this matter, though, that I can promise you. If something comes to me, how can I find you?”
    “You can contact us through the British consulate in Munich,” Thomson said.
    “You travel to Bavaria then.”
    “Well . . .” Thomson shifted in his chair, perhaps thinking he may have said too much. “Only in passing, but we will keep them informed. I would ask you not to share that information with anyone else.”
    “Of course,” Tesla answered and then turned to me. “Your situation here must be very difficult, Dr, Fargo. I wish I could have been more help.”

    “So, did you buy all that?” I asked Thomson once we we’d flagged down a horse-drawn cab.
    “Buy? I’m not sure I . . .”
    “Did you believe him?”
    Thomson’s confusion showed clearly in his face. Scientists are easy to fool because they are trained to accept the world at face value.
    “He knows more than he’s letting on,” I said. “What’s he doing here in England?”
    “I told you, this talk. Well, now that you mention it, he contacted the society and offered to give the speech, as he was already in the country. Why? Do you think that’s significant?”
    Everything is significant.

EIGHT
    October 1, 1888, Essex, England

    Less than week later I felt like a proper Londoner. I had my own respirator and goggles, even if they were tucked away in a leather shoulder bag. I also had a hat.
    I was forced to agree to the practicality of a hat in this environment—that or comb dust and cinders out of my hair every time I came in from outdoors. I never liked wearing hats and I had avoided them altogether after leaving the army,