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President Lincoln, Allan Pinkerton, and Maj. Gen. John A. McClernand. by The U.S. National Archives on Flickr.
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U.S. National Archives’ Local Identifier: NWDNS-111-B-6348A
From: Series: Mathew Brady Photographs of Civil War-Era Personalities and Scenes, compiled 1921 - 1940, documenting the period 1860 – 1865 (Record Group 111)
Created by: War Department. Office of the Chief Signal Officer. (08/01/1866 - 09/18/1947)
Coverage Dates ca. 1860 - ca. 1865
Photographer: Brady National Photographic Art Gallery (Washington, D.C.) (1858 -?)
American Civil War, 1861-1865
Persistent URL: http://arcweb.archives.gov/arc/action/ExternalIdSearch?id=530415
Repository: Still Pictures Unit at the National Archives at College Park (College Park, MD)
General McClernand inspected the work. “Impressive. But does it work?”
Pinkerton looked back into the tent. The inventor sat next to the President. They both slept, both exhausted, both mad from the respective fevers. “He says it will work. He says it will help us win the war. But, he also says he’s from the future.”
"True." Pinkerton walked around the automaton. It looked like the President, from fingertip to nose, from eye to toes. It even moved like Mr. Lincoln. "This Tesla says it will help, it will help. He stopped Russians us and he stopped the French. Hell, he stopped the Fish-folk from invading everything."
"Unfortunately." The General will have nightmares of that day, its stench and how it settled in some choice cities and how some things can never be made clean. "Let’s turn it on."
Lincoln-bot went zip and it went pop and settled into a whirr. “SYSTEMS ENGAGING. PRIMARY WEAPONS ACTIVE. MOTION SENSING AND HEAT-TRACKING PRIMED. SECONDARY WEAPONS ACTIVE. ALL SYSTEMS ACTIVE. AWAITING COMMANDS.”
Mr. Pinkerton felt his palms sweat and shake. He lost all feeling below his waist, all feeling beyond joy. “Tesla!”
"I’m here." The time-traveller was put together. His bow-tie was even straight. "Just tell it what to do. But," he cautioned. "It’ll work only for one hour. Well, one hour and eleven minutes. I like the symmetry."
The General laughed. “I doubt if we’ll even need that long.”
Tesla shrugged. “You can believe whatever. It will be just long enough to do what you need and have my nanites fix your president. You’re welcome, by the by.”
"Whatever." The General gazed into the field of blood and thunder below. "How do we start it?"
"It’ll respond your word, General. But first," Tesla said, fishing around deep in his pockets. "Here it is. But first, a photograph. To remember the day to come."