When the "Miniature Paris" once again glowed with a dreamlike brilliance after Tesla pressed the black button, the abnormality occurred.
Initially, it was just a wisp of subtle black smoke, curling up from the most bustling Champs-Élysées area of the model, like an ominous black ribbon, tainting that brilliant sea of light.
Sharp-eyed spectators let out low gasps, directing more people's gaze towards it.
Only then did people notice that an inconspicuous black building model had quietly appeared among the exquisite and dense house models, at some unknown point.
The wisp of black smoke originated from its tiny chimney.
This was just the beginning, as if Pandora's box had been opened—
Immediately after, a second wisp of black smoke rose from the Marais district, a third from Saint-Germain-des-Prés...
A buzzing vibration also began to emanate from the model's base, low and continuous, disturbing the previously peaceful and beautiful atmosphere.
In just a few seconds, dozens of black smoke plumes rushed forth from every corner of "Miniature Paris"—
Whether it was around Île de la Cité, symbolizing the wealthy areas, or Belleville and Ménilmontant
—erupted.
Dense soot quickly spread, engulfing the entire miniature city.
The previously clear spire of Notre Dame, the dome of the Pantheon, and the bridges over the Seine were now blurred in the "smoke and dust," as if covered by a thick layer of grime.
Even more unsettling, the suffocating smell of soot instantly permeated the air, quickly rushing into people's nostrils.
Caught off guard, the audience coughed violently, ladies covered their mouths and noses with handkerchiefs, gentlemen furrowed their brows, their faces filled with astonishment and disgust.
This sudden "pollution" formed a suffocating contrast with the previous shimmering, dreamlike scene.
What was darker than the soot in the venue was Thomas Edison's face.
He stared fixedly at the "Miniature Paris" swallowed by "black smoke," his fists quietly clenched.
He naturally understood what this dramatic scene was implying—those small black buildings constantly emitting black smoke were the power plants of the direct current system, spread across every district of the city!
The fatal flaw of direct current was that voltage dropped sharply with distance, limiting the effective transmission distance to about two kilometers, forcing power plants to be near users, dispersed within densely populated urban areas.
And in this era where coal was the primary power source, every power plant meant continuous burning of coal day and night, thick smoke rolling across the sky, and the roar of machines shaking the earth.
To demonstrate the power of his "Tower of Light" at this exhibition without being disturbed by these negative factors, he invested heavily in a luxurious modification of his giant DC generator:
He added complex noise reduction and sound insulation devices, meticulously designed a vibration damping system, and even spared no expense to route the exhaust pipes to the rear of the Industrial Palace building, away from the audience.
This was a major reason why his exhibit was so large and cumbersome.
If power plants were to be built in real cities, it would be impossible to disregard costs in such a way.
And now, this "Miniature Paris," in an exaggerated manner, revealed the urban environmental disaster caused by the DC power supply mode nakedly to all Parisians!
Finally, an audience member couldn't bear it any longer and shouted loudly:
"Enough! Stop it, stop it! This damned smoke is suffocating me!"
This shout triggered more people's agreement, and the scene became chaotic, with coughing and complaints incessantly.
Seeing that the desired effect had been achieved, Lionel nodded to Tesla.
Tesla operated the controller again, cut off the "DC mode," and restarted the "AC mode," and the "Miniature Paris" returned to its previous pristine and brilliant state.
Soon after, the black smoke dissipated, leaving only those pearl-like small light beads quietly glowing.
It was quite a while before the irritating smell in the exhibition hall gradually dispersed, but the shocking impression had been deeply imprinted in everyone's hearts.
At this moment, Lionel stepped forward to the center of the stage, his voice echoing through the hall:
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the difference."
He gestured towards the model that had regained its light:
"Using the 'alternating current' system, we only need to build a few large power plants in the suburbs far from the city center.
Then, through 'transformers,' with efficient, long-distance transmission, we can lead the entire Paris, and even more distant areas, to a bright future."
Then his arm swept in an arc, pointing to the empty space where black smoke had just permeated:
"Whereas using the 'direct current' system, as everyone just saw—
Theoretically, we would almost need to build a small power plant in every block to meet the power supply needs.
Yes, Paris's future will also be lit by electric lights, but at the same time, our sky will be enveloped by black smoke from countless chimneys!
Our streets will be filled with machine noise, our air will be full of coal dust.
The same bright future, but the way to achieve it is fundamentally different.
Now, please think, which one would you prefer?"
The exhibition hall fell into a silence.
People looked at the beautiful and magnificent "Miniature Paris," and then recalled the terrifying sight of it being swallowed by "black smoke," their faces showing expressions of deep thought, worry, and even lingering fear.
This was not a simple technical choice; it was a choice concerning their future quality of life, and even more, concerning the image and soul of the city of Paris.
Just then, at the front of the crowd, several influential figures in Parisian cultural circles stepped forward in unison.
Émile Zola was the first to speak:
"We cannot, and absolutely should not, turn our Paris into another London!
We have all seen firsthand London's soot-stained buildings and hazy skies, that is absolutely not progress for civilization!
That is barbaric industry choking the city's neck, letting it slowly die in suffocation!"
Immediately after, the Impressionist painter Claude Monet added with agitation:
"Exactly! Light! Air! These are the soul of our painting, and the soul of Paris!
If Paris's sky turns grayish-black, the light and shadows along the Seine will also lose their color, then Paris will no longer be the city of art, but... but a huge, dirty factory workshop, a cage that has lost its vitality!"
Guy de Maupassant also sneered:
"Think about it, everyone, if we invite foreign friends to Paris in the future, are we going to tell them, 'Welcome to the City of Fog'?
Ha, that would have its benefits—at least French writers could then write 'Oliver Twist'!"
Auguste Renoir's face showed an expression of despair:
"Rose-colored sunsets, transparent air... if these disappear, what will I be able to paint?"
These consecutive statements from cultural celebrities struck the hearts of the audience like hammers.
They represented the heart and soul of Paris, and their worries instantly infected many citizens present.
Whispers of agreement began to rise from the crowd—
"Mr. Zola is right!"
"We cannot lose Paris's sky!"
"It's too foolish to pay such a price for a few electric lights!"
Thomas Edison's face was pale, his jaw clenched, he clearly heard and saw all of this.
He knew that in this contest, he had already stood on the brink of failure.
Because Lionel had no intention of competing with him on electric light technology and industrial manufacturing, but rather focused on public sentiment and urban vision.
Parisians might yearn for light, but at the cost of sacrificing their city's beauty and livability?
Parisians would certainly become exceptionally cautious.
After all, the Seine was already smelly enough!
He abruptly turned, no longer looking at the glaring luminous model in his eyes, nor paying attention to the crowd behind him, and left the exhibition hall without a word, disappearing beyond the crowd.
Meanwhile, in a relatively secluded corner on the second floor of the exhibition hall, Charles Lafargue, General Manager of the "Paris Gas and Lighting Company," and Henri de Villefort, President of the City Council, who had previously chatted cheerfully with Edison, also changed their expressions.
They witnessed the entire process, their faces both solemn and at a loss.
Charles Lafargue whispered:
"It seems, President, that we need to reconsider our direction of cooperation."
He looked at Lionel and Tesla, surrounded by the crowd on stage:
"Public sentiment, and the potential of this alternating current technology, seem much more promising than Edison's direct current technology."
The President nodded slightly, not answering immediately, but his eyes already indicated that the balance of power was quietly tilting.
Finally, Lionel gave a brief summary:
"Paris's natural environment, its clear sky, its magnificent architecture, its unique atmosphere, are themselves France's most precious treasures.
This is also an important reason why people all over the world yearn for Paris, making it the 'Capital of Europe'."
He looked around at everyone, his gaze sincere and firm:
"We must clearly understand that if one day, Paris is shrouded in industrial black smoke like London, breathing polluted air all day long...
Then, Parisians might gain a few brighter electric lights, but they will lose health, lose comfort, lose wealth, and ultimately, will lose the charm that makes Paris, Paris!
We should choose a smarter path towards the future."
As his words fell, the audience in the venue applauded enthusiastically!
Lionel secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
This "grand show," which had been prepared for nearly 4 months and cost over 20,000 francs, had finally achieved its intended success.
Next, the "Miniature Paris" became the new superstar of the "International Electricity Exposition"!
Audiences lined up on the second floor of the exhibition hall, the queue extending down the stairs and all the way in front of Edison's "Tower of Light."
People eagerly flocked to witness how their city was condensed into a fifty-square-meter model.
Thomas Edison, meanwhile, had already climbed into his carriage, but left Samuel Insull outside:
"Go find out all of Sorel and Tesla's tricks, the generator, the small light beads, the transformer... everything, you must give me the answers by tomorrow night!"
Samuel Insull's back was immediately drenched in cold sweat.
(End of Chapter)