Zero Hour (NUMA Files 11)

“Who’s Watterson?” Pitt asked.

“Daniel Watterson,” Yaeger replied, “Tesla’s prodigy at the time. Computer, please read the letter.”

The computer began speaking aloud, using a convincing foreign accent. “Is that Tesla’s voice?”

“No,” Yaeger said. “But it’s an authentic re-creation of Tesla’s English. The way he probably sounded.”

“You taught it to do that?”

“No, it made the choice itself based on a thousand different dialects.”

Pitt shook his head, feeling a sense of disbelief and wonder as he listened to the voice over the speakers.

“Young Daniel, we have both been afraid this day would come. Ever since the patents on my motors of alternating current expired, the incoming funds have been drastically reduced. Neither Mr. Astor nor Mr. Morgan seem willing to put up more funding…”

Yaeger leaned over to Pitt. “That would be J. P. Morgan and John Jacob Astor IV, the one who went down on the Titanic.”

Pitt nodded. “Our paths have crossed before.”

“So I recall.”

“… they have intimated that perhaps they would be willing to grant us more if we’re able to demonstrate the transmission of power, but considering our inability to neutralize the anomalies we’ve encountered, I feel it is too dangerous to try at this point.

“Remember, poverty can be overcome with hard work. Death cannot be. And I will not be the instrument of harm to so many who know nothing of our struggle. For this reason, I must decline the other offer you arranged as well.

“Please inform General Cortland that I appreciate his efforts but cannot move forward until I have been able to render the danger moot.

“With all hope, Nikola.”

The computer had finished.

“Who’s this Cortland fellow?”

“Harold Cortland,” Yaeger said, “a brigadier general in charge of special procurements at the time.”

“So Tesla decided not to seek more money from Jacob Astor because he thought it was too dangerous, and then he turned down money from the U.S. Army as well?”

Yaeger nodded. “According to the letter. But aside from this reference, I’ve found no proof that the army ever spoke to Tesla, let alone offered him something.”

Pitt turned back to the photo of Wardenclyffe. “It looks a lot like what Kurt and Joe found in that flooded mine.”

“The ratios of the dome to the piping are almost identical,” Yaeger said. “And just like that mine, Tesla’s Wardenclyffe tower had electromagnetic conduction pipes that ran hundreds of feet down into the ground. According to Tesla, this was to ‘get a firm grip on the Earth,’ which he insisted would not only conduct the power but provide it.”

“Million-dollar folly,” Pitt mused, “except it sounds like Tesla was glad to let it go. Almost relieved. Why? What was he afraid of?”

Yaeger tilted his head as if the answer were obvious. “Probably the exact effect Thero is striving to achieve: tipping over the applecart of this zero-point field and wreaking havoc as all the apples tumble out.”

Pitt nodded. He was beginning to sense a pattern.

“From what you’ve said,” he began, “and what this Australian scientist has said, the zero-point field is connected and intertwined with gravitation. Tesla began work on his gravity theory and these towers at about the same time, around the turn of the century. He seemed to give up on both until… when?”

“Nineteen thirty-seven,” the computer replied.

Pitt looked around. “Thank you,” he said, feeling odd about responding to the machine. “Why then?”

“Insufficient data,” the computer said.

“Can it guess?” Pitt asked Yaeger. “And, if not, can you?”