This is one of those stories that begin with a beautiful idea. Frankie believed that emotions could become a source of energy: anger, sadness, awe. If the universe is at bottom a structure of information, why should human emotion be unable to interact with the vacuum?
So the Psonatorium was built, a laboratory in which emotions are turned into electricity. In my mind its walls glow faintly whenever someone in the hall feels something strongly. For a time it looked like the dawn of a new age of energy, a perpetual motion machine within reach of thought, which every physicist will tell you cannot exist and every dreamer will tell you is the best kind of idea.
Then deadly black holes appeared. Very small ones. Real enough to remind us of an old truth: every great discovery is an experiment on the future, and it has two edges.
The open question is whether we are ready to learn how to wield it, and to endure the painful, sometimes fatal blows that come with such learning.