SO I DARED! AM I MAD? AM I? And not just any dead man… He was unreasonably tall and thin, with jet black hair brushed straight back, a ferocious but sanitary mustache, and the kind of brows on which pencils could be balanced. He was dressed in the height of fashion for the 1920s, but every item looked new and the overall effect earned the word “impeccable.” He appeared to be in his mid-forties—but to my certain knowledge he was at least twice that old. And dead. “Nikky!” I called out when I saw him. “Come on in, pal—I didn’t know you were now.” That’s not a typo. That’s what I meant to say to him: that I hadn’t known, until then, that he was now. By which I meant, then. You see, Nikky is well into his second lifetime, and completely unstuck from time… No, there’s just no way to nutshell this one. A major digression is called for. But where to start? *** I’ll make it as brief as I can. Nikola Tesla was born in 1856 (hang on, now), in a place called Smiljan, in what is now Croatia, and came to America to work for Tom Edison in 1884. Between then and 1943, he basically invented the twentieth century.
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