by Sesh Heri
“The end of the experiment,” Tesla said. “And that was your final question for this trip.”
Tesla opened a small, hinged door at the base of the short-wave radio receiver and removed a one inch diameter metallic disc. Tesla and Sava then got out of the Pierce Arrow. Tesla locked the car’s doors, leaving the short-wave radio receiver with its tubes inside, and then the two men went out of the barn. Tesla closed the barn doors, snapped the padlock closed in its hasp, and then turned around and looked at Sava.
“But you must tell me one thing,” Sava said. “The experiment— what was the experiment?”
Tesla just stared at Sava for a few moments, saying nothing. Then Tesla waved Sava forward and the two of them walked back up the dirt trail until they reached a macadam road. From there they walked a quarter of a mile to a country crossroad and waited half an hour in silence. Sava now would not speak a word, but would only glance at his uncle from time to time. Each of these times, Tesla would only shake his head from side to side without looking at Sava. This situation persisted as the summer heat pressed in upon them and flies buzzed around their faces.
Then a bus finally pulled up beside them. The bus had no doors or windows, but only canvas flaps, now raised up and tied in place.
Tesla looked up at the driver seated behind the steering wheel inside the bus.
“Is this the bus to Buffalo?” Tesla asked.
“This is it,” the driver said.
Tesla mounted the steps of the bus, and gave the driver a twenty dollar bill.
“I ain’t got change for this,” the driver said. “Ain’t you got anything smaller?”
“Keep the change,” Tesla said, starting toward a seat.
The driver said, “Hey, I don’t take advantage of… “
“Of what?” Tesla asked.
“Of— people,” the driver said.
“Keep the change,” Tesla said. “If you keep it, save it, and never spend it, you will learn a great secret. You will learn what paper money really is.”
“Yeah?” the driver asked. “What’s it really?”
“Nothing, my good man,” Tesla said. “Paper money is absolutely nothing. Now let’s get going. I am a very busy.”
Tesla sat down in a seat near the front of the bus, and Sava came in and sat down beside his uncle. The bus driver stared at Tesla, then looked over to Sava, who shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. The bus driver looked back over to Tesla with suspicion.
“Say,” the bus driver exclaimed, “you ain’t one of them Red Russians— are you?”
“Certainly not!” Tesla said. “I am an American citizen. What are you?”
The bus driver stared at Tesla, then turned about silently and shifted the gears of the bus, starting them all off down the road.
Sava turned to his uncle, and said, “I don’t care what you say. I must know. What was the experiment?”
“What experiment?” Tesla asked absently.
Tesla and his nephew rode the bus back to Buffalo. By the day’s end they were traveling back to New York by train along the same route they had taken eight days earlier. On the train Sava attempted to bring up the “experiment” again, but Tesla, now, would not even make a reply. Tesla remained silent all the way to New York, although he would sometimes bring out a small memorandum book and make notes, then put the book back into his pocket and resume his gaze out the window of the train.
What was the “experiment?” Sava never found out, but he assumed it was a test of the remarkable motor under the hood of the Pierce Arrow. But this was not the case.
Then what was the “experiment?”
It all began earlier in the year of 1931 when engineers at the Adams Electrical Generating Plant at Niagara Falls began noticing unaccountable losses in electrical energy. The dynamos were inspected and found to be in order. Transformers and lines were also inspected. Outside electrical engineers were consulted, and they came to the plant to analyze the problem. The consulting engineers stayed on site for several weeks, taking measurements and photographing dynamos and transformers with conventional light, infrared, and x-rays. Over the several weeks of analysis, the consulting engineers detected a pattern in the losses of electricity. Although not entirely clear to the engineers, it appeared that the problem of the power loss was not coming from flaws in the machinery of the plant itself, but from an unseen, unidentifiable outside source— and an intelligent source, at that. The pattern of losses, while somewhat regular, was not absolutely symmetrical, as it might be expected if the cause of the losses was from some mechanical defect. One of the consulting engineers said that the losses were like “someone talking in a foreign language that we can’t understand.” Workers at the Adams Plant began making jokes about gremlins stealing electricity. The engineers and managers of the plant found no humor in the electrical losses that were now becoming serious. Many consultations and inspections went on day and night at the Adams Plant until the engineers finally threw up their hands. A final conference was called with the top managers and consulting engineers in the hope of finding a solution.
“If this goes on much longer,” one of the engineers said, “this plant may shut down entirely. That would be disaster for the eastern seaboard.”
“Cities without lights, without functioning machines,” another engineer said.
“Can’t any of you do something?” a manager asked in despair.
“We’re all stumped,” a third engineer said.
“We’ll bring in the world’s greatest expert on electrical power generation!” another manager declared.
“Well,” an engineer asked, “who’s that?”
“That would be Nikola Tesla,” another manager said. “He designed all this.”
“Isn’t he dead?” an engineer asked.
“No,” another engineer replied, “but I heard he’s senile. He can’t help.”
“We’ll find out if he’s senile,” a manager said. “We’ll make some calls. If Tesla can’t help us, we’ll find someone who can.”
Telephone calls raced across the country from Niagara Falls to Washington D.C. to New York. Nikola Tesla was located. Word reached the managers of the Adams Plant that Tesla was not senile, but only retired, 74 years of age, living quietly in New York City. The managers contacted Tesla by telephone and asked him if he would come to the Adams Plant for a consultation. His expenses would be paid as well as a nice consulting fee. Tesla demurred. He informed the managers that he was by no means retired, but, on the contrary, very busy with his own projects. Then the managers explained the full situation to Tesla, one manager after another coming on the line to explain a particular technical difficulty that had resulted from the power losses. One of the managers volunteered his opinion that the loss of electrical power at the plant seemed to be following an intelligent pattern.
The manager who had said “intelligent pattern” on the telephone did not know that when he had said these words Tesla had nearly dropped the telephone receiver on his end of the line.
“I’ll be there as quickly as possible,” Tesla said, and then hung up.
The manager who had been speaking to Tesla stood listening to the plaintive dial tone of the empty telephone line on his end.
Another manager asked, “What’s he saying? Is he coming?”
The manager holding the telephone receiver said, “He said he’s coming. Then he just hung up.”
At that moment in New York, Tesla was placing a call to his one remaining contact with Majestic Seven, the U.S. Government’s most secret intelligence organization. This contact was author George Ade.
On the other end of the line Ade picked up the receiver.
“Yes, Mr. Tesla,” Ade said.
“Niagara Falls,” Tesla said. “Power losses there as well. The engineers have asked for my consultation. I’m going there now.”
“We’ll send one of our men in case you need help,” Ade said.
“I will be in contact,” Tesla said, and hung up.
What only Tesla and George Ade of Majestic Seven knew was that the power losses at the Niagara Falls plant were only part of a larger pattern of electrical disturbances occurring all around the earth, a pattern that Tesla had been monitoring for months. Many of the losses occurred at electrical generating plants, but most of them occurred in cities, usually contained within only a few blocks at each site. Some of the losses had occurred along stretches of highways in the open countryside where the only overt sign of the loss was the sudden stoppage of automobile engines. None of these electrical disruptions lasted more than a few minutes, but the inability to detect their cause had created grave concern among the members of Majestic Seven. However, security had been so tight in the monitoring of the power losses that information about the losses at the Adams Plant had taken weeks to reach the ears of Tesla and Majestic Seven. Tesla had better intelligence on the power losses occurring in Australia than he did in his home state of New York.
As for the electrical power losses themselves, Tesla only knew that it was as if someone, somewhere, was drawing electricity out of the earth at irregular intervals, creating a staccato Morse Code-like rhythm tapped out around the globe. The reports of power losses were increasing, but to find the source of the electrical interference would require on-site detection devices. The concentration of power losses at the Adams Plant gave Tesla an opportunity to study the phenomenon at close hand, if it would only continue to manifest a short while longer.
Tesla took a cab to Grand Central Station and there boarded a night train bound for upstate New York and Niagara Falls. Early the next morning, Tesla arrived at the Adams Plant and took the next two days inspecting its dynamos, transformers, and transmission system, including the main lines going out of the plant. At the end of the second day Tesla spoke to an assemblage of managers, consulting engineers, and technicians.
“Gentlemen,” Tesla said, “your problem is not in this plant, but electrical interference from an outside source.”
“How could that be?” a manager asked. “How could someone tap into our power lines? They’ve been inspected several times. Even you inspected them yourself.”
“The power is being extracted from the system wirelessly,” Tesla said.
“Radio?” an engineer asked skeptically.
“No,” Tesla said. “It’s a non-Hertzian interference. It’s a scalar sink.”
“A what?” a manager asked, his mouth hanging open.
“I call it a ‘sink,’” Tesla said. “Perhaps the more correct term would be a scalar node. Someone is using the interference patterns of convergent longitudinal electric waves to draw energy from the plant and transport it to another locale.”
“Where?” a manager asked.
“It will take more time for me to answer that,” Tesla said. “In the meanwhile I am going to explain to you some emergency measures that will work to dampen the withdrawal of power. You must erect some temporary aerials on the roof of the plant. I will bring in the necessary equipment to attach to them.”
Thus, over several more days, Tesla and the engineers of the Adams Plant erected a system of towers on the plant’s roof that connected to a control room in the building below. This room contained six electrical consoles resembling short-wave radio receivers. All of these receivers had mounted upon them a row of twelve vacuum tubes. An engineer was trained to monitor gauges on these receivers and to hand-tune each receiver should its gage show a spike in electrical power. A spike indicated a sudden burst of longitudinal electricity in the vicinity, always followed by a sudden drain in the electrical power coming out of the dynamos of the Adams Plant. The engineer would turn a dial on the receiver console and the spike on the gage would die out. The dial controlled a rheostat connected to a bank of highly charged electrical condensers that were, in turn, connected to the towers on the roof of the plant. The rheostat consisted of a switch that would conform to the time intervals of the in-coming longitudinal electric waves, and thus would dampen the waves’ power. This electrical block prevented the longitudinal waves from forming a node from which the local electrical power could be transported on a time-reversed wave. The engineer manning the control room understood none of Tesla’s scientific theory regarding this wireless transmission of power, but he knew how to follow the specific instructions given to him by Tesla. An engineer had to continuously monitor these consoles, and so they were monitored 24 hours a day by three engineers in three eight-hour shifts. Tesla sat with the engineers for several days to train each man on how to monitor the equipment and make the proper adjustments.
One night, lightning struck one of the towers on the roof with such intensity that the metal of the tower was melted down into a solid lump. However, the roof did not catch fire. The next day, Tesla supervised as the melted tower was removed and a replacement mounted on the roof. The engineers wondered how lightning could be so intense that it could melt the tower, an aerial made entirely of iron and copper. Tesla replied that the strike had not been ordinary lightning; it had been “a scalar surge” directed at the tower— clearly artificially controlled energy.
All though this period, Tesla was in consultation with George Ade. One day, Ade called Tesla at the Adams Plant and told him that his request for a brand-new automobile had been granted by Majestic Seven. Tesla had already explained earlier that he would require the automobile to do ground tests of longitudinal electric surges in the countryside surrounding the Adams Plant, and being Nikola Tesla, he had insisted upon the very best automobile that could be obtained. Tesla wanted a Pierce Arrow.
So one day George Ade called Tesla, and said, “You’ve got your car. Go on down to the Pierce Arrow people in Buffalo and tell them what you need.”
“Very good, Mr. Ade,” Tesla said. “Perhaps something of substance can be accomplished now.”
Tesla had an engineer at the Adams Plant drive him to the Pierce Arrow manufacturing facility in Buffalo. When Tesla met with the President of Pierce Arrow and told him he wanted a brand-new automobile delivered to him without an engine, the President slowly smiled.
“This is a gag— right?” the President of Pierce Arrow asked.
“It is not, sir,” Tesla replied. “I am serious and it is extremely important that you supply what I request. The electrical spark in an internal combustion engine will interfere with the equipment I will install inside the automobile.”
“What kind of equipment do you plan to install?” the President of Pierce Arrow asked.
“That information,” Tesla said, “is a classified government secret. You only need to understand that an internal combustion engine cannot be used on the automobile.”
“Then what kind of engine are we supposed to put in?” the President of Pierce Arrow asked with irritation.
“I already told you: none,” Tesla said. “I will have a different kind of engine installed after you deliver the automobile.”
“A different kind of engine?” the President of Pierce Arrow asked.
“I have all the specifications for the automobile here,” Tesla said, handing the President of Pierce Arrow a sheet of paper.
The President of Pierce Arrow looked at the specification sheet, and saw that Tesla wanted the automobile to be built with all of its chassis, transmission, and steering units. Parts were to be manufactured within the chassis and car interior to allow mysterious spaces for some unidentified machinery to be mounted. The President of Pierce Arrow studied the small sketch Tesla had made of the chassis interior, trying to figure out what Tesla planned to put in those mysterious spaces.
“How soon do you want this?” the President of Pierce Arrow asked.
“I want the next automobile about to come down your line,” Tesla said.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” the President of Pierce Arrow said with an angry grin, his eyes squinting. “We’d have to stop the assembly line to do that— completely impractical!”
“Why impractical?” Tesla asked.
“Do
you have any idea how much it would cost us to stop the line?” the President of Pierce Arrow asked.
“No,” Tesla said. “However, I could venture an educated guess, and I know that it would be well within the budget of the organization that has contacted you about my request.”
“This is that big?” the President of Pierce Arrow asked. “They could cover the cost?”
“Easily,” Tesla said.
“I’ll have to make a telephone call to confirm this,” the President of Pierce Arrow said.
“Very well,” Tesla said. “Call George Ade. He will arrange the financing. But call immediately. I am returning to New York and I will need the automobile to be ready when I return in three days.”
Tesla took the train to New York and spent the better part of a day constructing a device contained in the console housing of a short-wave radio receiver. When he finished his work, he placed the console along with twelve vacuum tubes in a long, black box. These items secured, he placed a telephone call to his old assistant, Kolman Czito. Tesla got Mr. Czito on the telephone and explained that he needed Mr. Czito to come to Buffalo with him for a few days.
“I’m sick, Mr. Tesla,” Mr. Czito said when he heard Tesla’s request.
“But I need someone to drive a new car for me,” Tesla said, “someone who I can trust implicitly.”
“I can’t,” Mr. Czito said, “and Julius can’t, either. We both have the same thing. We’re sick as dogs and couldn’t steer a sled straight.”
“You two are the only ones I can trust to carry out my instructions properly and with discretion,” Tesla said.
“What about your nephew?” Mr. Czito asked.
“Sava?” Tesla asked.
“Yes,” Mr. Czito said. “What about him?”
“No,” Tesla said. “This is too sensitive. Not him.”
“You don’t trust him?” Mr. Czito asked.
“Trust,” Tesla said, “is relative to that which is being entrusted. There are some things too important for trust.”
“You don’t trust your own nephew?” Mr. Czito asked.