A Christmas with Tesla
by Doris Dawn
“I hate shopping, Gilles. Why do you enjoy torturing me with this?”
“Because they’ve got those vapor projectors at half the price.”
“So you’re taking me to Paris just to buy some stuff on sale?”
“Not just, Juliette, but also to buy some good stuff. Besides, don’t you miss our campus life, eh?”
“Oh dear, when I saw your pic on Infokes, twas like a revelation. Here’s my next pimp! – I said to myself. On I went to grab you by the pants. Young years, my dear Gilles. La jeunesse, chéri, la jeunesse!”
“We’re not old, Juliette. Do you feel old?”
“Just tired. A bit. Dunno. Watch out! Espèce de crétin!”
“L’autoroute seems jammed this Sunday.”
“Like any Sunday. Like every day. I hate Paris.”
“Thus spoke the spoiled girl who once resisted moving to Provence.”
“You were driving the car then. I had a pimp who drove the car for me. Chic… Sortie de Palaiseau. Voici, here we are.”
Juliette takes the truck road, avoiding downtown delays, and finally parks in the campus. Gilles fingers his handheld, sporadically. “The Multiphysics lab, second floor. That building.”
“They’ve built quite a lot in five years. So many buildings I can’t remember.”
Gilles forgets to answer her rather rhetoric observation. In no time, surrounded by coils, cylinders and toroids, he forgets her even more. “Jacques texted me that he’s gonna be late a couple of minutes. Caught in traffic.”
“Uh-huh.” Juliette cannot care less about Jacques and his stuff on sale. Looking around, she notices a sizeable toroid, suspended.
“It’s not suspended, chéri. That thing levitates at two-thirds above the floor. Can’t you sense the buzz?”
“In my ears? Thought I clogged my ears in the car, en route.”
“Let me show you something.” Gilles gently grabs her elbow and pulls her to the spot in the middle, right under the toroid.
“Wow, the buzz is gone. I feel elated. I think I–” Juliette throws a scared glimpse at her boyfriend. “You are levitating. Oh mon Dieu, we are levitating!”
The brightness steals both Gilles and Juliette away. Not before closing their eyes tight, to avoid the blinding white.
Juliette opens her eyes after sensing solid ground under her feet. Painfully raining with colorful stars. Annoyed, she closes them back, trying to get some comfort. Which comfort arrives to her ears – now unclogged – by way of a calculated and pleasurable voice.
“Experiments to ascertain to what extent induced currents in the ground might affect the primary and secondary oscillating systems now used in the laboratory.”
“Resonance analysis… Oh moj Bože! Who are you and what are you doing here? And what are these clothes on you?”
Opening her eyes, blinking instinctively to steer the ache away, she discovers a tall and bony man, in a black suit, writing notes on paper, showing a noble composure and a familiar moustache.
“Jacques? C’est toi? Jacques?!”
“Je suis désolé, madame. Mon nom n’est pas Jacques.”
“And this is not the Multiphysics lab on the second floor. Anymore…” Juliette thinks out loud, only to get interrupted by her man.
“Je m’appelle Gilles Galla, et vous êtes?…”
“Nikola Tesla, à votre service.”
“Juliette Jó, enchanté.”
The tall man in black comes closer. They shake hands. High emotions discharge in residual radio jitter as they touch. The talking takes heed in French, which will be kept at bay, for the sake of the reader.
“Sir,” dares Gilles not without hesitation, “you say that you are Tesla, the real Tesla?”
“Yes, this is what I am saying. Is there another Tesla, unreal?”
“Oh yes, last time I counted, there were more Tesla imitators than Elvises. You’re the rage!”
“And you come from? If I may.”
“Ah, sure. We come from Paris.”
“No wonder. Got the accent. I was asking from which year are you coming?”
“Uhm, let us see. Could you please tell us which year is here and now?”
“After you, madame. I’ve asked first!”
“Sir, please excuse the intempestive curiosity of my girlfriend. Last time I checked, it was Sunday, December 24th, 2028. One o’clock. Look!” Gilles slides his handheld out of the sleeve and presents it to Mr. Tesla.
A tiny blue blitz from Tesla’s finger silences the device. Forever.
“Gone dark. I’m afraid that I’ve burnt it. Grounding the object!, that’s what… But now it is too late. I am sorry.”
“Yes,” Tesla is lost in studying the handheld, turning it on all sides, reading the fine print next to each port, “yes Mr. Galla, forgive my absence. This would have been an astonishing telephone. I assume.”
“A Nexus. I’ve got one more in my left sleeve. Juliette has two of the same kind. Could you please inform us about the date?”
“Indeed. Excuse me. Today is Sunday, December 24th, 1899. This is my laboratory…”
“…at Colorado Springs! I know. We had this in the curriculum. Remember, Gilles?”
“So it is, madame. If you know by heart, so well, from your history classes, then you should know what I am trying to achieve with my experiments here.”
“Transfer of electrical power from here to Paris, without using conductors. Wireless power across the planet,” states Juliette while undulating her hips.
The alert eye of Mr. Tesla notes her body language. “You remind me of someone. A person dear to me. From France. Like you.”
“No. Another adorable lady. But where are my manners? Welcome to my laboratory!”
“Thank you for having us. Please excuse our unannounced visit. We didn’t even wish to come by. It was an accident. Actually, do you have a clue?, because we don’t.”
“Call me Gilles.”
“Gilles, can you tell me the last thing you were doing in Paris, before arriving here?”
“I took Juliette by the elbow, to the center spot beneath a toroidal magnet. Because she said that her ears were clogged and I thought to clear them.”
“Walking around the Multiphysics lab, I sensed a buzz in my head, but when finding myself in the aforementioned center spot, the buzz was gone, plus my lungs breathed lighter, my heart beating like, say, jollier. Can’t define the exact sensation. Elating, nevertheless.”
“Dates and times match. Years differ by 129. Hmm,” ponders Mr. Tesla. “It is pertinent to consider that my experiment has brought you here. I apologize for any inconvenience I might have caused you.”
“Are you kidding us? Nikola! May I call you Nikola?”
“You may, fair lady.”
“Really? Your experiment brings us into your life, well, your lab, for a starter. We dreamed about this ever since primary school. Gilles, guess that you allow me this statement, on your behalf?”
“An understatement, yes. Mr. Tesla, excuse my girlfriend’s impetuosity. You are an idol to us.”
“Idols are dangerous things to tinker with, young man. You may also call me Nikola. Now that you are in my life. Well, I’ve brought you in. As it seems.”
“Depends.” Whispers Juliette.
“Beg your pardon?”
“I had a Sirian guy. Once. Or twice? Mhm, or more than twice? Not sure.”
“An Arab?, you mean. From Syria?,” wonders Gilles, “I can’t remember. The Lebanese guys, I still keep them in the ledger, together with the Russians, the Israelis and South Africans. You never had a Syrian guy, Juliette, at least according to my ledger.”
“T’as raison, chéri. No guy from Syria knew me. But there was one from Sirius. Not a client and not in your ledger. I never told you about him.”
“We agreed to have no secrets. To tell each other everything. Remember?”
“Which is why I speak right now.”
“When did the Sirian guy know you?”
“Early this morning, before I jumped on you. He made me so horny. I couldn’t help myself.”
“Come again?” Gilles finds his words, hardly, while Nikola stands unmoved. A thoughtful observer would notice his eyebrows going North, far North.
“The person from Sirius, Juliette, has this person a name?”
“He has a name.”
“I can’t speak his name. Trying hard not to even think of it.”
“May I ask you why this?”
“You may, but that won’t help. By pronouncing his name, he is bound to manifest his presence next to me. By thinking his name, his mind opens a channel to my mind and I can see what he sees – the live feed from his eyes.”
“Can you describe this Sirian guy to us? His looks maybe.”
“He looks like young Gregg Allman, just one meter taller. A soft spoken man with great attention to detail and to pleasing a lady beyond her wildest visions.”
“2.85 meters tall?”
“He comes from Sirius!”
“That’s where he found me.”
“Probably. Dunno. Though he sounded like a diplomat, an ambassador of sorts.”
“Juliette,” intervenes Nikola, “is he present here, on our planet, this person from Sirius?”
“He was present in Peillon, France, between five and six in the morning today. Well, Sunday, December 24th, 2028.” States she in all confidence. “Wait! I sense that he is present in Bethlehem, a quarter to midnight, today – Sunday, December 24th, 1899.”
“You can see what he sees?” Asks Gilles.
“Yes, and I can get answers to my questions, before I finish asking them.”
“Ask him about his first visit to Earth,” marks Nikola with the pointer like a pistol fixed to Juliette’s nose.
“You’re so imperative, Nikola. How exciting.”
Cool Tesla smirks at the lady. Moving not but waiting for her to convey an answer.
“At the first and one quick assembly called by the Sirius system lords, my Sirian guy has been appointed as the forty-first pilgrim. Decision based on his proven skills as a traveller of worlds and most candid soul blessed with an outstanding voice.”
“Sounds like a singer to me,” comments Gilles.
“A singer he is, chéri,” marks Juliette, “allow me to speak out the information that keeps filling my brains, will ya? Having no clue about this new prerogative of pilgrim, he embarked on a ship with an undisclosed destination. On Earth date, September 24th, Anno Domini -2 (that would make 1901 years ago from 1899 and 2030 years ago from whence we came) his ship descended upon the hills of Bethlehem.”
“You said September, isn’t that a typo?, wasn’t it December?”
“No typo, chéri. September I heard, September I tell you. And here goes the song.” Juliette sings a carol, with a celestial voice. Her wide blue eyes betraying her bewilderment.
Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me.
Let there be peace on earth
The peace that was meant to be.
With God as our Father
Brothers all are we.
Let me walk with my brother
In perfect harmony.
Nikola, touched, composing himself, asks her. “Will he tell you why for the first time he arrived in September and now he comes in December?”
She blinks to confirm and then she speaks the answer. “Tuesday, September 24th, -2 AD, according to the current calendaring system, he departed from the Sirius star system to arrive in the Solar system after six hundred seconds of travel time. The purpose of this journey was to sing at the Birth of The Lord of Hosts, the Creator of all worlds Who was entering our shared dimension of reality. There were countless ships arriving from as many star systems, says my Sirian guy.”
“Tell us what you can see through his eyes now,” says Tesla, softly.
“I see what he sees, a blue beam, like a trace of ultraviolet, descending from the numerous ships in the sky, brings white and silent glowing lights over Bethlehem.”
“There’s one problem here, dear,” intervenes Gilles, “one more problem.”
“Which is that December 24th 1899 still runs on the Julian calendar. This sends Christmas Eve ahead to January 6th according to our current Gregorian calendar.”
Tesla: “I do not understand.”
“Don’t even bother, Nikola, there’s nothing to understand here. Juliette, ask your friend about the way their ships deal with this, shall you?”
“Already asked him,” smiles Juliette, well, she giggles as she speaks the answer, “our alien brothers in Christ are so amused about our cataclysmic rioting minds that they all agreed to establish a ceremonial expeditionary group that will light our lights regardless of the ever changing customs or calendars. They are here for us, he says.”
Exchanging meaningful glances, Nikola and Gilles knew what those extraterrestrials were talking about.
“My dear guests, Mr. Alley will show you to your quarters because I invite you to stay for two weeks of Christmas together.”
On January 7th, 1900, Nikola Tesla left Colorado Springs.
On 7 January 1900 Tesla made his final entry in his journal while in Colorado Springs. In 1900 Tesla was granted patents for a “system of transmitting electrical energy” and “an electrical transmitter.” When Guglielmo Marconi made his famous first-ever transatlantic radio transmission in 1901, Tesla quipped that it was done with 17 Tesla patents, though there is little to support this claim.
In 1904, Tesla was sued for unpaid debts in Colorado Springs. His lab was torn down in 1904, and its contents were sold two years later at auction at the court house to satisfy his debts.
Copyright 2017 December 23, by DDHSIM Doris Dawn, email@example.com All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.