CHAPTER IX.
Of the development of World-Weariness in Hesperos; and of the second attempt to cross the Equatorial Tornado—How the Forlorn Hope succeeded, and discovered a City of the Dead—How the terrible mystery of Evanescence was explained; and how the crew set out on their return.
But, notwithstanding the signal success which had attended their labours, there can be no doubt that during the next thousand years a general feeling of gloom and despondence gradually settled down over the Hesperian race. That the brilliant discoveries of the astronomers had failed to throw the faintest glimmer of light on the question of questions—Who was their Maker?—was a fact which could not be disguised. An answer to this was as far off as ever—further off, indeed. They had learned the enormous extent of the universe, and, as a consequence, that the Hesperians, so far from exhausting its contents, were no more than insignificant specks in its unfathomed deeps. In the vast profusion of worlds they felt themselves lost. If their Maker had charge of that vast universe, he might well have forgotten them altogether. Why, then, should they not depart from life? The door of exit was always open. A fall down the nearest precipice was always easy, and the instantaneous dissolution of the body was an unfailing remedy for every ill.
This feeling of discontent with life, or general world-weariness, reached a climax in the concluding years of this period; and its existence in the mind of a small band of practical engineers was certainly the main cause which led to the terrible discovery that placed an indelible line of distinction between the ancient and modern Hesperian histories.
Although the northern hemisphere only was accessible for exploration, it was by this time perfectly well known that the planet is a sphere. Hence they considered it not at all improbable that, to the calms of the north, a similar condition in the south might correspond; and that the chronic hurricane which had hitherto barred the passage to the southern ocean might prove to be confined to a zone not exceeding a few hundred miles in width. Should this be the case, it might perhaps be passed, and a southern continent discovered. This would greatly develop astronomical science; nothing less than a hemisphere of unseen stars might be brought into vision. Moreover, a transit of Mercury across the face of the sun would take place in a few years; and, in order to utilise this, a place of observation in the southern hemisphere was essential.
It occurred to one of these engineers that, though no ship floating on the surface of the ocean could possibly live in the equatorial tornado, it might be practicable to devise a submarine vessel which, by sinking to a very great depth below the surface, could traverse the four or five hundred miles of raging cataracts, and then, emerging from the depths, might find a smoother sea.
It was plain, however, that whoever ventured on such service must be content to incur imminent risk of utter destruction. No one could venture to guess how far downwards the seemingly preternatural disturbance might reach; or what horrors fatal to every form of life might be met in those frightful abysses. So, except for that feeling of weariness of life which was fast growing through the world, it is not at all likely that a body of volunteers, sufficiently numerous, could have been found for a service of such exceeding peril. In one respect, indeed, but only in one, this new enterprise had not as terrible an aspect as that which had been undertaken by the earlier and unsuccessful voyagers to the south. These earlier voyagers had actually ventured on the Infinite, for they had no clue to the shape or extent of their world; but, thanks to the astronomers, it was now well known that the planet is, at all events, bounded in every direction.
The engineer communicated his plan to some of his comrades, and, after trying a great many experiments in submarine navigation on a small scale, they succeeded in constructing a model boat, which promised well for success. Their next step was to collect a sufficient number of volunteers; they considered that fifty would suffice. Owing to the desponding feeling then prevalent, the fifty, a forlorn hope, were soon found. They then applied to the world-parliament for the funds necessary for building and fitting out the ship, which would be a very costly undertaking, in consequence of the enormous strength which would be requisite to resist the water pressure at the great depths to which they would be constrained to descend. But, in the interest of scientific discovery, the funds were readily supplied; the works were commenced without any delay; and, in about two years, the ship was complete. It was lavishly supplied with stores of food, and force, and every requisite that could be conceived; and the fifty embarked and started for the south; none of them expecting, or indeed much wishing, ever to return.
All of them were excellent engineers, and practised astronomers; indeed the hope of extending the field of the latter science had certainly some influence in stirring them up to their expedition. They continued on the surface of the water till they approached the stormy region. Into this they penetrated, still keeping on the surface, till the violence of the waves became so great that it was no longer possible to steer the ship. They then stopped the propelling engines, and opening the valves which admitted water into the tanks, sank slowly into the deep. At the depth of five hundred feet they found the sea quite still, and they started the propellers again. But, a few miles farther on they had to go five hundred feet lower. As they approached the line of the equator itself they were obliged by degrees to go lower and lower, till at last an immersion of two thousand feet was reached; and, at this depth they forced their way for about two hundred miles.
The ship behaved admirably. Notwithstanding a pressure exceeding a thousand pounds on the square inch, not a trace of a leak could be discovered. At last they thought they might venture to rise a little; so, by altering the inclination of the propellers they gradually ascended about a thousand feet without any unpleasant result. At this height, signs of water disturbance rendered it inexpedient to continue their upward progress till they had made another fifty miles of their voyage. They then ascended five hundred feet more; at that depth the water was rough, but practicable. Fifty miles further, they ventured to force the water out of the tanks, and rise to the surface. This they did very slowly and cautiously, and on emerging they found that the zone of tornadoes was passed. The sea was still exceedingly rough; but looking back towards the north, it was easy to see, from the much greater violence of the waves in that quarter, that they had left the equatorial hurricanes behind them.
They were now in the southern hemisphere, and, as well as they could compute, about two hundred and fifty miles south of the equator. The total width of the belt of storms, at the place where they had crossed it, they estimated at five hundred miles. As they proceeded towards the south, the sea became smoother and smoother, till they reached a region of nearly perfect calm. They resolved to hold on their course, due south, till they either reached land or the South Pole itself.
On the ninth day after their emergence they sighted land. The country was evidently mountainous; overhead, the cloudy screen continued unbroken, and seemingly at the same elevation as in the north. Soon the ship was near enough to the shore for the crew to be able to discern unmistakable signs of life; and, on rounding a headland, a city of moderate size came into view. The style of the buildings was in no way different from that which was familiar to them at home. As they cast anchor a few hundred yards from the shore, they could see that the pier was densely crowded with people, who had been evidently attracted by the strangely-shaped vessel.
Presently one of the crew, taking up a spy-glass, leaned on the handrail and took a steady look at the people on the pier. He had not gazed for more than a few seconds when he suddenly turned as white as a sheet, staggered back a couple of steps, and, gasping for breath, handed the glass to the man beside him. The captain asked him what was the matter—‘It is a City of the Dead,’ he stammered, in a voice all but inarticulate with terror.
A like expression of horror came over the second man’s face, as he also looked through the telescope. And no wonder at it. The people who were standing on the pier had lived with them in the north, and were believed to have vanished from life for ever. A feeling like that which arises on earth in the presence of a ghostly visitor came over the crew. They were plainly face to face with some terrible mystery, which was now to be cleared up.
Meanwhile a boat with several rowers pushed off from the pier and came swiftly towards the ship. As she approached, several of the engineers recognized in the steerer the man who had perished on the awful precipice which leads up to the great observatory of the north. When the boat came within hail, this man shouted, ‘We have been expecting you for some time, and we congratulate you on your submarine passage.’ So it was plain that these mysterious people knew all about the expedition. They saw the consternation of the engineers, but evidently did not reciprocate their confusion. On the other hand, all seemed highly delighted at the arrival of their old friends. More boats came out to the ship, and the crew were speedily landed. The citizens received them with great kindness; took them hospitably into their houses, and, when the astonished guests had rested, and recovered a little from their state of utter stupefaction, the supposed ghosts communicated to them the history of their adventures in the southern hemisphere.
The substance of what they learned was as follows:—The phenomenon of evanescence, hitherto supposed to be the final destruction of the subject in which it takes place, is only the first step in a much more complicated process. The evanescence itself consists in a sudden disintegration of the molecules which compose the body. But these disintegrated, and therefore invisible, molecules are really endowed with an affinity or attraction which tends to the south pole of the planet. Just as on earth, the magnetic needle turns into the magnetic meridian, so on Hesperos those organized molecules which enter into the structure of a rational animal, when freed by disintegration, instantaneously seek the South Pole, the transmission taking place with the exact velocity of light. On reaching the pole, reintegration is equally instantaneous; so that in Hesperos we may say that the death, decomposition, and resurrection of the body form three consecutive steps in one connected series of events, the whole of which is accomplished in a single instant.
Evanescence, then, in the northern hemisphere, and indeed in the southern also, is nothing more nor less than instantaneous transference to the South Pole. The reintegrated body is, with one most important exception, an exact reproduction of the disintegrated original. The exception is this: any bodily organ which has suffered a lesion of any kind is restored in its primitive healthy condition. Had this not been the case, many a man would have been doomed to the shocking fate of languishing in a maimed and mutilated state for evermore. The two laws of evanescence which have been observed in the north are equally valid in the south; but it should be remembered that the transference is always to the South Pole, no matter in which hemisphere evanescence occurs.
Hence it is obvious that, before the arrival of the submarine boat, the conditions of population in the north and in the south respectively were directly contrasted. In the former there was a constantly diminishing number which could not be increased; in the latter a constantly increasing number which could not be diminished. But it was quite plain that, assuming the return voyage of the submarine ship to be practicable, equilibrium would soon be restored.
Such were the main facts communicated that evening to the astonished engineers. They all retired to rest in their new quarters half petrified with amazement and horror. The gate of exit from life was shut and barred—or rather, none such had ever existed. What was supposed to have been one had no such real significance; and if there was one anywhere it had still to be found.
To their question, How had the southerners become aware of their projected submarine voyage? their hosts replied that one of the northerners who had been evanesced by an accident while the ship was building had, on arrival at the pole, communicated the plan. Indeed, in this way, by the frequent arrivals from the north, the southerners were kept well posted up as to everything which took place at the other side of the equator, and had learned all the grand results of the new astronomy.
The engineers resolved to lose no time in making the return voyage; and they offered to take with them, as passengers, any, to the number of fifty, who chose to revisit their former habitations; more than fifty they could not easily accommodate. The offer was gladly accepted. Among those who returned they brought the oldest inhabitant of the south, the victim of the Hesperian Cain, whose untimely extinction, just 9997 years before, had led to the discovery of the first law of evanescence. He was now, to all appearance, in the twenty-fifth year of his age. Also three of the crew of that ill-fated ship which perished in the abortive attempt to cross the surface of the equatorial sea accompanied them.