In Theory, it Works

There is something different about Theory, Texas. The hill-country farm-town seems sleepy and dull, memorable as the thirty-fifth Tuesday of whatever year you can't recall. You could drive through Theory, Texas in two minutes, not recalling a thing about it two minutes later.

Perhaps the difference is in little things. The ice-rink is upside down. A cat is mayor. The donut shop enforces strict rules of Truth. In the town park farmers debate the meaning of existence. Tuba playing is forbidden within town limits.

And the high-school science teacher, Ted Alva, has been warned: beware the friendly stranger from Acronym Land. Guard the secret archive of past inventions, less some devil or corporate CEO find use for the town's secret.

And that secret is (sssshhh, don't tell)... In Theory, everything works. The unlikely dreams, the improbable machines, all the conceivable inventions that in ordinary places would beget explosions, laughter or a dull and useless hum... these things can work. In theory. In Theory, Texas, everything works.

From the book:

"Nicole Devlin."

"Ted Alva."

"Not Thomas?"

"I had it changed."

"Ah."

Introduction complete, Ms. Devlin sat herself neat as napkin folded by the maître d' himself, into the one chair opposite the one desk. Placing her briefcase on her lap.

"I always wanted to be called 'Nicky'," she confessed. "But it's forever either Nicole or 'the Devil'.

Alva remained standing, blinking at the creature. A young woman in a serious gray suit that declared Serious Gray business; lightened by a fluffy red bow at the collar.

"People call you the Devil?"

"It's the name 'Devlin', I suppose. That or I piss people off." She sighed. "People. What can you do?"

"My father was a Thomas Alva Edison fan. He pissed people off too. Edison, I mean, not my dad. Well, dad also pissed people off. Me, anyway. I prefer Nikola Tesla."

"Prefer him to your father, or to Edison?"

Alva considered. "Hmm. Both. Edison wasn't much of a family man. Dad, either."

"I wonder if anyone called Tesla 'Nicky'?"

"Maybe. He was charming. On a good day. Tesla, I mean. Not dad."

"I hear you," said the Devil. "Never got on with my father either."