Nikola Tesla's finger steadily pressed the shining button.
For an instant, an electrical hum began to buzz, so faint it seemed like an illusion born from the crowd holding its breath.
A clear vibration came from the base of the "Miniature Paris," as if the pulse beneath the city had begun to awaken.
Immediately after, a miracle occurred.
The meticulously constructed miniature city, with its crisscrossing streets and densely packed buildings, seemed to be instantly ignited by invisible sparks, lighting up one after another!
Only then did the audience discover in astonishment that every detail of the model was embedded with countless extremely tiny "light beads."
These light beads, less than one centimeter in diameter, glowed brightly along the model's outline and interior, like countless glowing pearls meticulously carved and instantly brought to life!
They gently awakened the entire "Miniature Paris" from its slumber, immersing it in a dreamy radiance.
This light was not as intensely dazzling as Edison's "Tower of Light," which declared the grand and magnificent power of industry.
It used a more delicate, more layered halo of light, making the entire scene brilliant yet not harsh, splendid in just the right way.
With this uniform and soft light, the audience could clearly appreciate the most exquisite details of this miniature city—
The sculptures on Notre Dame Cathedral's spire seemed to breathe, a hint of warmth emanated from the portholes of boats on the Seine River, the ribs of the Pantheon's magnificent dome were clearly discernible, and one could even see the sharp edges of the obelisk above the Place de la Concorde...
Light endowed these miniature landscapes with soul and depth!
If Edison's "Tower of Light" symbolized a grand, majestic industrial power that almost sought to conquer nature;
then the "Miniature Paris" displayed by Lionel and Tesla was more like a city poem composed with light and shadow.
It was filled with artistic beauty and humanistic care, exquisite, elegant, and closer to Parisians' imagination and feelings for their city.
In the hearts of many spectators, this radiant miniature city seemed to better represent "what Paris should look like in the future" than the towering giant tower on the first floor.
—Technology and art were perfectly integrated in this "city."
Exclamations spread like a tide through the exhibition hall on the second floor.
A lady wearing a delicate feathered hat covered her mouth with a handkerchief:
"God... this is too beautiful! This is Paris!"
Her eyes twinkled with excited tears, while the gentleman beside her kept adjusting his monocle, trying to see more details.
A student pulled his companion, pointing excitedly:
"Look there! The colonnade of the Madeleine Church! The light is coming from behind the pillars, how did they do that?"
A critic whispered to his companion:
"This is how electricity should be, it should serve beauty and integrate into life. Not like downstairs, just a dazzling, awe-inspiring giant."
An engineer was in disbelief:
"These lights... they're too small! Much smaller than any electric light I've ever seen! How is this possible?"
This was also the confusion in many people's hearts.
As the crowd's admiration reached its peak, Lionel smiled and walked towards the group of artists who had been quietly standing in the shadows.
He gave a strong hug to one of the middle-aged men with a thick beard, then gently pushed him towards Tesla, facing the curious audience.
Lionel's voice echoed through the exhibition hall:
"Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce the true creator of this astonishing 'Miniature Paris'—Mr. Auguste Rodin!
It was he who, with unparalleled artistic vision and dedication, led hundreds of young students from the French Academy of Fine Arts, spending a full 60 days and nights!
With their hands and souls, they sculpted and polished, finally creating this artistic masterpiece that could only belong to Paris!"
Instantly, thunderous applause erupted, filled with respect for the artist and heartfelt praise for this work of art.
Rodin shyly bowed to everyone, his gaze sweeping over the glowing city model, his eyes filled with the unique pride and tenderness of a creator.
Meanwhile, on the first floor, Thomas Edison had just finished listening to the hasty report from his young assistant, Samuel Insull.
His first reaction was extreme skepticism and incredulity:
"Light beads? Less than one centimeter?"
Thomas Edison frowned tightly:
"This is impossible! Thinner filaments mean faster evaporation and terrible stability!
Carbon filaments simply cannot work effectively at that scale! And those glass bulbs... blowing such tiny, uniform glass bulbs, the yield rate would be terrifyingly low!
Are they performing a magic trick?"
Based on his deep professional knowledge and manufacturing experience, he momentarily couldn't understand how "Sorel-Tesla Electric" had overcome these insurmountable technical obstacles.
But then, he shook his head, and a disdainful smile reappeared on his face.
Creativity?
Artistic sense?
Indeed good, able to bluff those ignorant laymen and Parisians who pursue superficiality.
But in the final analysis, mass-producing light bulbs and generator sets stably and at low cost relies on a solid industrial foundation and a complete production system, rather than one or two dazzling models.
In his opinion, this performance by "Sorel-Tesla Electric" would ultimately only increase public interest in electric lights, and only he, Thomas Edison, could satisfy such enormous market demand.
They were merely making wedding clothes for him.
He composed himself and instructed Samuel Insull:
"Continue observing, report any anomalies to me immediately."
He still believed he had victory in his grasp, so he just made his eyes and ears more vigilant.
Meanwhile, on the second floor, as the applause subsided slightly, Nikola Tesla walked to the front of the stage again and began to give a technical explanation.
He picked up a slender pointer and gracefully pointed to a corner at the edge of the "Miniature Paris"—there, stood a slightly larger, black-painted building model.
Above the building was a slender chimney, from which a wisp of black smoke was rising at this moment, like cigarette smoke, dissipating as it floated higher.
Nikola Tesla, having been suddenly pushed to the front by Lionel, was initially a bit nervous, but after the baptism of applause and focused gazes, he was now much calmer.
He calmly began to explain:
"Ladies and gentlemen, please look here. This is an AC power plant. Its principles and methods of providing electricity to the city are completely different from those of a DC power plant.
We only need to establish such a centralized, more powerful AC power plant far from the city center, for example, in remote suburbs. Then, through our developed 'transformer' device..."
He did not elaborate on its electromagnetic principles here to avoid being too profound, which Lionel had just specifically instructed him to do.
"...We can step up the generated current and transmit it over long distances via transmission lines at extremely high voltage and with extremely low loss.
When the current reaches the city, it is stepped down again through transformers and safely distributed to every block, every building, and even every room."
This concise explanation outlined a future completely different from Edison's DC power supply model of "power plants adjacent to users"—more centralized, more efficient, and capable of long-distance power transmission.
Just then, Samuel Insull pushed through the crowd and came to Thomas Edison's side again.
This time, Samuel Insull's expression was more solemn as he quietly and urgently reported keywords such as "alternating current," "transformers," and "long-distance power transmission."
Thomas Edison's expression finally changed.
Alternating current?
Was this a technological path he had always publicly disparaged?
Were transformers those exhibited in Britain last time?
They actually came up with a practical application, and in this highly anticipated setting?
The feeling of everything being under control instantly vanished, replaced by a sense of crisis of being challenged, or even surpassed.
He could no longer sit calmly on the first floor, enjoying that certain sense of superiority.
He had to go see for himself, to expose this "hoax" and the audience's unrealistic fantasies.
Thomas Edison's tone was very firm:
"Let's go up!"
Accompanied by Samuel Insull, he broke free from the encirclement of electrical engineers and quickly ascended to the second floor.
These electrical engineers were also greatly interested and followed to the second floor.
Arriving on the second floor, Thomas Edison only then discovered that everyone's attention in the exhibition hall was completely drawn to the glowing "Miniature Paris" and Tesla, who was explaining, and almost no one noticed his arrival.
He quietly squeezed into the crowd, arms crossed over his chest, and with the utmost concentration, scrutinized the exquisite model and his opponent on stage.
Just at this moment, a sharp-witted reporter loudly raised a question that was on everyone's mind:
"Mr. Sorel! Mr. Tesla!
May I ask what is the difference between this system you are displaying and Mr. Thomas Edison's power generation and supply system downstairs?
Other than... uh, smaller lights and a more beautiful model?"
This question was very direct and crucial, instantly silencing the entire hall, with all eyes focused on Lionel and Tesla.
A meaningful smile appeared on Lionel's face.
He did not answer directly, but turned to Tesla and nodded slightly as a signal.
Tesla understood.
He reached out again and pressed the shining button that had originally lit up the "Miniature Paris."
In an instant, the lights of the model city went out, as if Paris had instantly fallen into slumber, leaving only the faint mechanical hum from the base and the audience's wistful sighs.
However, in front of Nikola Tesla, another metal pillar steadily rose.
At the top of the pillar, a button of a completely different color from before was embedded—entirely black, with a matte finish.
Tesla did not offer any superfluous explanations.
Under everyone's gaze, he directly reached out and decisively pressed the black button.
The moment he pressed it—
The "Miniature Paris" that had just plunged into darkness once again, brilliantly lit up!
The light was still soft and uniform, every tiny light bead glowed anew, perfectly recreating the dreamy spectacle of that miniature city before all the audience.
Thomas Edison and all the audience looked puzzled.
What was the point of lighting up the city again?
These small light bulbs didn't even change to another color!
until he saw a wisp of black smoke rise...
(End of Chapter)