The Last Days of Night(101)

It took Paul a moment to figure out what Edison was referring to.

“Blame Coffin for that,” answered Morgan. “He was the one who wanted your name off the thing.”

“You took my name off the company I built from nothing.”

“Charles Coffin took your name off the company I own.”

“It is my name.” He stepped toward Morgan as his plea became more direct. “I’ll make you a deal for anything I have left. But please. Don’t take away my name.”

Edison was about to lose unfathomable millions of dollars, and the part that tortured him was that Edison General Electric would now be plain old General Electric?

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” said Morgan. “You have nothing else that I want.”

“George,” said Edison, turning to address his enemy as his peer. “You understand this. These men”—he gestured to Morgan and the lawyers—“they don’t. They’ve never built anything. They’ve never bent down and with their own two hands molded something that did not exist before. Something that no one even believed could exist before. Tell them to leave my name in place. Our war? You win. Do you hear me? I will say publicly that you win.” He bowed his head formally, the salutation of a losing general to a victorious one. “The country can run on A/C. You want everyone to know that your devices are better? So be it. Maybe they are. But do not let them say that mine did not exist.”

Westinghouse’s expression was sympathetic.

“They won’t, Thomas,” he said. “General Electric is not going away. It’s going to grow. If anything, this will burnish your legacy, not banish it. Everyone will know it was yours. I promise you.”

Paul was horrified. Edison deserved many things, but sympathy was not among them. This was the man who’d hurt them both so much.

“I hope they forget about you by the morning,” said Paul. A bitterness had been festering inside him for two years, and now at last it could be released. “You lied. You cheated. You stole. You spied. You tried to kill Tesla. You almost killed me. You bought off the police. You bribed a state legislature. You paid off a judge. You promoted a horrific instrument of death in an attempt to convince the public of something that was not true. You would knowingly install an electrical system across the cities of the United States that would kill thousands per year. And those are just the crimes I know about. You deserve a punishment far worse than this.”

The room was silent as Paul finished. He’d given everything to beat Edison. He’d committed his own sins to prove that Edison’s had been greater. He’d pushed away the one person he’d grown to love. Now he had only his anger.

It felt good.

“Paul,” cautioned Westinghouse, “enough.”

“I’ve done things that I should not have,” said Edison. “I won’t deny it. But not everything you’ve accused me of is true.”

Paul wanted to rebut this, but Westinghouse interrupted:

“I’m sorry, Thomas. But you won’t be forgotten. Your name will live on. I give you my word.”

To Paul’s great shock, both men reached out and clasped hands.

“Thank you, George. And for what I’ve done I’m sorry as well.”

“You can start again. Like the old days—just you, a hot iron, and a dusty laboratory.”

Edison gave a tight, rueful laugh. “My God. I can’t even remember.”

“It’s not as if you’ll be a pauper,” said Morgan. “You can hire a staff. You’ll own stock worth a hair over two million dollars.”

At this, Edison shrugged. He turned back to Westinghouse and they exchanged a look.

“Businessmen,” said Edison. It was Westinghouse’s turn to laugh.

With that, Edison turned to go. There were no goodbyes, no acknowledgment that this might very well be the last time he would see any of these men again. However tired Paul felt, Edison looked twice that. He slunk out of the room.

Westinghouse shut the door and the room was quiet. The victors were left alone to their silent spoils.

After a few moments, Paul was the first to speak.

“I don’t understand. How could you apologize to him? After everything he’s done.”

Westinghouse’s thoughts seemed further removed from Paul than ever before.

“I know you don’t understand,” said Westinghouse. He placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “One day, you will.”





When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this—you haven’t.

—THOMAS EDISON



VICTORY FELT STRANGE.

After brief, formal goodbyes with Westinghouse and the attorneys, Paul left Morgan’s office in a disoriented state. Out of instinct he began to wander up Wall Street in the direction of his office until he realized that Carter and Hughes would be there. They would be in the mood for a fight, as they would soon learn of Paul’s various deceptions. Tesla’s survival, the associate attorneys, the coup to dethrone Edison…it was an impressive list. Either they would be firing Paul or he would be quitting, depending upon one’s perspective. Carter would do a lot of yelling, Hughes would do a bit of scolding, and Paul would have to sit quietly until they eventually let him negotiate something—the formal terms of the separation. It was likely that others would need to become involved: lawyers hiring lawyers hiring lawyers, the snake litigating with its own tail. The process would be occasionally enraging and mostly tedious.