“Amazing!” Trina gushed. As she watched, a puddle of water behind the fume hood rose elegantly, its surface undulating as it spun as though a spindle, finally resolving itself into a distinct shape before freezing solid. The result was a tall, slender crystal perched delicately on a flashed base. “And that’s water?”
“Just water,” Parker confirmed.
It was hard not to be smug. It had taken years of studying barometric pressure, air masses, static currents, and particle theory to get to this point. In the end, he’d gotten as far as making what was, essentially a lamp base wrought of ice. It might not look overly impressive (it certainly wasn’t practical), but it wasn’t a product. It was a proof of concept.
Soon, the next phase would begin. He’d scale up, and in time history would remember more than a parlor trick in a lab. Man had taken centuries to learn how to predict the weather.
He’d taken less than a decade to learn to control it.