The Thief of Souls

He regarded me with a smack of suspicion as I started asking him about Rostow’s years at the university, roughly dating from 1968-71.   What was he working on for instance?

“What was he working on?”  Addington said with a smirk.  Finally, he smiled.  “It was something Tesla came up with but never perfected.”

Addington stared off, perhaps remembering those days as if they were only yesterday, with Rostow in the some cramped lab in some inaccessible dark corner of the science building, perhaps marveling at the man’s genius, and envying it, too.

“What was it?”  I asked.

“He called it, Apparatus for the Transfer of Brain Electricity,”  said Addington with a complete poker-face.

“Apparatus for the …”  I tried to repeat it but got lost somewhere.





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