Chapters (51)
In the 1890s and early 1900s, Nikola became obsessed with a theory that he might be able to conduct electricity long distance through the earth’s surface. He took a lot of money from a lot of people, lied to everyone about what he was doing, and moved from New York to Colorado Springs to experiment with this type of research far from public scrutiny. Around this time, he’s quoted as saying, “Progress in this field has given me fresh hope that I shall see the fulfillment of one of my fondest dreams; namely, the transmission of power from station to station without the employment of any connecting wires.”
Spoiler alert: he did not see the fulfillment of his fondest dream. He was super wrong about everything. He spent a year at his lab in Colorado Springs, ran through all his funding, went into debt, and ruined his reputation. At one point, he seemed to think he was communicating with other planets. When we first met, he assumed I was a martian (ha!).
Now, though, while we know that it’s not possible to transmit energy across vast distances using the power in the earth’s surface, as Nikola posited, we do know that it’s possible to transmit mass through time using an anil. Hence time travel. The research Nikola left for me seems to be a sort of mash-up of his research and mine. He argues that the earth’s crust is made up of millions of tiny anils, and that it should be possible for me to harness that energy from anywhere—not just inside of an anil. To stabilize the energy, he recommends injecting a very small amount of exotic matter directly into my person (he’s drawn a rough prototype for a tool that should help me accomplish this).
The science holds. And yet, I’m reluctant to test his theories. Nikola is well-known throughout history as being one of the most brilliant men to ever live. And yet his experiments in wireless energy ruined his reputation and sent him deeply into debt.
Am I really going to trust him with my life?
4
NOVEMBER 13, 2077
Black water swirled around her slowly moving boat. A cool breeze tickled the back of her neck, messing with her curls.
Dorothy stared into the darkness, watching for movement. She had Roman’s dagger in one hand, the weight of it a familiar burden at her side. In her chest, her heart rose and fell like hammer blows.
She was ready. She would never be ready.
The darkness broke open and there, in the near distance, she saw the anil undulating on a blanket of black waves. It was a sharp splinter in the night sky; a soap bubble bouncing gently on the waves; a deep, dark tunnel.