8
Despite their determination, and the intense interest in their great project, it was with many secret misgivings that Robert and Professor Palmer stood without the improvised hangar on that memorable night. They were about to embark on the strangest journey that man had ever attempted.
Henry Simms alone accompanied them to see them off. Till the last he had tried to persuade them to abandon the dangerous project, but without avail.
To Robert, the stars had never seemed quite so brilliant, the night so bewitching. The very air seemed to have a special tang and sweetness which he had never before noticed. The myriad sounds of the night possessed a magic power of enchantment over him. He caught himself wondering inconsequently whether he should ever again hear the soothing voice of the crickets and other denizens of the summer twilight; whether such sounds might be heard on Mars if they reached it.
Quietly they took leave of Henry and filed into the Sphere. The trap slammed shut, and Robert and the professor were enveloped in the dead, black silence of the Sphere’s interior. It was at this point that Robert’s resolution reached its ebb. Had Professor Palmer turned to him at that moment and again begged him to remain safely on Earth, he could not have resisted the temptation.
Never had a glow of light seemed so comforting as that which flooded the Sphere a moment later. The temptation of the previous minutes fled. In its place Robert felt only an eagerness to be on his way. Nevertheless, when they had mounted to the main compartment, he opened one of the windows and leaned out, thirstily drinking in deep breaths of the keen night air.
Toward the east a silver tinge on the horizon heralded the rising of the moon. The two tall stacks of the laboratories were silhouetted sharply against the brightening sky. Their black outlines were registered indelibly in Robert’s memory for years afterward. It all seemed like a grotesque dream. Somewhere the shrill scream of a screech-owl cut into the night, breaking the spell.
Final farewells were passed with Henry below, and the window slammed to into its soft rubberstripped socket. The air-purifying devices were put into operation.
With Henry’s aid they had already removed the Sphere from its stall. Its machinery had been carefully inspected that afternoon. With a final glance over everything, they prepared to start at once. For the first time the full electrified lifting power of the disk was to be used. Storage batteries had been charged to capacity.
“All ready, professor?” called Robert.
“Let her go.”
There was a soft jar, and the Earth began dropping away. The altimeter registered three thousand feet when Robert opened the second shutter. Immediately the landscape began receding at a disconcerting rate. With a moment of involuntary hesitation, Robert pushed the third button, entirely baring the disk’s surface. An answering roar from without indicated the terrific speed at which they were leaving the Earth’s surface.
“Twenty thousand,” read Professor Palmer.
Almost as he finished speaking the instrument registered another thousand feet. They were rising at virtually the same rate as they had been traveling parallel to the Earth’s surface during their original trial trip.
The moon, nearly full, was now in full view because of their height. It had also risen sufficiently to cast long, grotesque shadows of trees and other objects on the Earth’s surface. Roads appeared as narrow, winding ribbons; houses as mere faint blots.
A minute later they had reached a level of 62,000 feet. Doltaire’s remarkable and recently established airplane record of 46,800 feet was already eclipsed by more than 15,000 feet! The dusky landscape began to take on a blurred appearance. As yet Robert had not turned the current into the disk, fearing excessive air friction. Time enough for that when they had arisen beyond the belt of atmosphere which enveloped the Earth some 200 miles deep. This figure had been approximated from observations of falling meteors, which become white-hot from air friction as they fall with terrific speed from space into the envelope of atmosphere.
“Ah—pardon me, gentlemen,” a quiet voice said suddenly.
Robert and the professor wheeled sharply, thoroughly startled.
To their astonishment, they beheld a man walking toward them!
“W-where did you come from?” stammered Robert, the first to recover his speech.
The newcomer, however, did not seem to share their surprize in the least. Rather he appeared to be very much at ease. His brilliant red hair, the easy and pleasant smile on his intelligent features, stamped him as an ordinary, normal person. But how had he come there?
“My apologies, gentlemen,” spoke the stranger. “I determined to cover this trip for The Chronicle, and hid in a storeroom. Hugh Taggert’s my name.”
He advanced and shook hands with them both heartily.
“Thought I might as well get acquainted right away,” he ran on, “since we are going to be companions all the way to Mars. Nifty little ship you’ve got.”
Until now their astonishment had kept Robert and the professor speechless. With the disclosure of the identity of the nervy young reporter, however, the humor of the situation struck them both.
“We hadn’t counted on company,” said the professor, “but now that you’re here, I can’t say that I’m sorry. Kind of livens the trip up, eh, Robert? Not so lonesome. But you’ve got your nerve, young man!”
“You’re certainly welcome, so far as I’m concerned, Taggert,” said Robert, agreeably. “Only you might have to share some scanty rations before we land.”
“Shan’t mind that,” was the reply. “Brought some myself to help out.”
He picked up a good-sized cubical package from where he had set it down a few minutes before.
“Bouillon cubes, malted milk tablets, and chocolate,” he explained, tapping the parcel.
“Fair enough,” said Robert.
“Boys,” interrupted the professor, “take a look at old Mother Earth now.”
With one accord they hurried to the windows to gaze upon the receding Earth, which for a minute they had almost forgotten.
The wavering altimeter indicated a height of more than 125,000 feet—almost twenty miles!
The semi-luminous Earth far below them now presented a dull, nebulous appearance, devoid of landmarks, except that far to the southeast a faint thread of lighter color wound its way irregularly across the country; this they judged to be the Ohio River. One other distinguishable mark was a small, dimly illuminated patch indicating the city near the laboratories.
“Good old Earth, good-bye,” said Taggert.
His customarily cheerful voice contained a note of awe. Indeed, the sight was sufficient to strike awe into anyone’s heart; but then, Taggert was thinking, too, of a certain dark-haired and brown-eyed lass who would be waiting anxiously for him to return to her.
At the end of a fifteen-minute wait, basing his estimate on their former rate of ascension, when the altimeter was still registering accurately, Robert calculated that they had reached a distance of approximately 150 miles above the Earth. At this distance the atmosphere should be sufficiently thinned to eliminate it as a factor of interference with their course or danger of air friction. He could now safely utilize the disk’s full magnetic power. With the resistance of the atmosphere reduced to nothing, their speed was doubtless already increasing, and with the maximum pull of the disk developed by the current from the storage batteries, their velocity would quickly double and redouble until they were rushing through space at a terrific rate. Thus would they continue exactly like a planet until checked by the attraction of some other body or a readjustment of the disk. Just how great a velocity they might obtain they had been unable to determine accurately, but it was considered not improbable that the Sphere might reach Mars within a month.
Under Professor Palmer’s guidance Robert now laid their course for Mars, carefully focusing the disk upon it. The full propulsive force of the disk was about to be used for the first time. All three watched tensely through the windows as Robert prepared to throw on the switch that would charge the mythonite with electricity.
An answering jar was felt as contact was made with the first terminal. By degrees, their velocity was increased until the full energy of the powerful batteries was diverted into the disk.
“Why, the old gourd’s shrinking like a toy balloon!” gasped Taggert, watching the Earth intently.
Indeed, the rapidly changing appearance of the Earth was evidence of the remarkable rate at which they were shooting away from it. Gradually the entire continent took shape before their eyes, presenting an appearance startlingly like the relief maps one sees in every geography. Here and there, however, fields of clouds hid sections of it.
It was at this point that Robert was possessed with a temporary but almost overwhelming impulse to rush the Sphere back to the Earth. He suddenly recalled its many comforts and pleasures; its wonderful scenes, sunsets and countless other beauties. All these things seemed a thousandfold more desirable than the cold, cheerless and mysterious void through which they were rushing. It would be such a simple matter to return now while he knew they could; but later—who knew what would be their fate? A moment later the temptation was gone. The possibilities of the curious planet toward which they were bound filled his imagination. He became anxious only to reach it as quickly as possible.
“Ugh,” he shivered, suddenly realizing that their air in the Sphere had become chilled.
“B-r-r,” echoed the professor and Taggert.
“Why, it’s down to freezing,” exclaimed Taggert, as he caught sight of the thermometer near him on the inner wall.
“Forgot all about our stoves,” chuckled the professor, turning on one of the two electric heaters with which the chamber had been equipped.
“The cold is one of our greatest dangers,” the professor told Taggert. “Out here in space the cold is absolute. There is nothing to reflect or retain the heat from the sun’s rays. Even if the gyrostats should stop, the disk is powerful enough to keep the Sphere from falling back into the Earth, or on any other planet if we lightened it by throwing out excess weight as we neared the planet where gravitation would be much stronger than it is at this distance. We have enough food to last us for weeks. But we must have warmth. Should our current fail us we should be in danger of freezing to death. Fortunately we have a petrol heater for emergencies.”
“Oy, and me with my overcoat at home!” wailed Taggert, in mock consternation, backing up close to the heater.
By this time the Earth had shrunk greatly. No longer did it constitute the greater part of their view. Suddenly a ribbon of fire appeared along its western rim! Steadily it widened, lighting up the Sphere brilliantly. Then the explanation of this phenomenon dawned upon them. The Sphere was carrying them beyond the Earth’s shadow into view of the sun, whose pleasant, warm rays shone cheerfully through the windows, buoying up their spirits considerably.
As the time passed the Earth appeared smaller and smaller. Its farther edge, still obscuring a slice of the sun, produced much the same effect as a partial eclipse of the sun by the moon when seen from the Earth. The physical features of the Earth were no longer visible against the glare of the sun. It simply looked like a black disk, slightly larger than the moon.
About this time their self-invited companion seemed a good deal perplexed over something. He stood shifting his weight from one foot to the other with a look of comical mystification on his ruddy countenance.
“What’s the matter, old man?” asked Robert, much amused at Taggert’s curious antics. “Cootie?”
“Something wrong here,” giving a little hop.
“I’ll admit you show symptoms of it, young man,” remarked the professor, dryly.
“Feel kind of lightish. Maybe I’m going to become an angel when we get a little higher,” went on the redhead, still engrossed in his private calculations.
“Come to think about it,” said Robert, standing up, “I feel somewhat that way myself. It must be contagious.” They both looked toward Professor Palmer keenly, as if expecting him to show similar symptoms.
The professor laughed long and heartily, until the pair became convinced that there was something wrong with him, too.
“Well, boys, it’s this way,” he said at last; “the farther away from the Earth we get, the weaker its attraction for us becomes. Of course you feel lighter—you are lighter—and that’s not all. Before we reach Mars, we shall all weigh nothing. We’ll be floating around in here like toy balloons.”
“That’s a fact,” said Robert after a moment’s reflection. “But I hadn’t thought of it until now.”
“Well, you fellows can swim around like goldfish if you want, but I’m going to find an anchor,” declared Taggert, looking round for a likely object of promising bulk and solidity.
“No use,” replied Professor Palmer. “When you float, everything else that is loose floats, too.”
Taggert scratched his red head thoughtfully.
“All right, then,” he said finally, in mock despair, “float it is; we’ll all play tag.”
A little while later the sun appeared unobstructed. The Earth had shrunk so small this time that it could no longer be seen on account of its close proximity to the sun. Well beyond it the moon hung serenely, though considerably reduced in size. Seen from this angle it was now nearer half than full. Oddly enough, in all directions the heavens presented the same appearance as when seen from the Earth at night, though the sun shone brightly upon the Sphere.
“But why?” Taggert wanted to know, looking in perplexity toward the blazing sun and then at the stars twinkling in cold, brilliant splendor.
“On the Earth we were enveloped by a layer of bluish atmosphere many miles deep in which minute particles of dust are suspended,” explained Professor Palmer. “When the rays of the sun shine through this, it produces the luminous, azure sky with which we are so familiar. It is this brilliancy in the Earth’s atmosphere during the day that makes the stars invisible. Out here, with no envelope of atmosphere or dust particles, there is nothing to produce a luminousness to outshine the stars.”
“Guess it’s all okeh,” mused Taggert, doubtfully, gazing out into the black sky, which lacked even the softening indigo of our terrestrial nights.
The stowaway proved a welcome recruit. For instead of dividing the twenty-four hours into two watches, they could now have three, of eight hours each.
The trip had settled down into dull monotony. One condition, however, partly relieved the tedium. This was the ever decreasing weight of their bodies. The adventurers found walking a novel sensation. A giddy feeling possessed them, and there was an unsteadiness in their gait which was difficult to control, resulting in a comical semblance of semi-intoxication.
It was the more reckless and experimental reporter who discovered and demonstrated proudly that he could step the entire length of the chamber, with little effort. Robert and the professor quickly and easily duplicated his feat, but he continued blithely to remind them at intervals of his initial discovery. From that time he supplemented his experiments by jumping up and touching the ceiling, and other gymnastics, proclaiming each noisily to the amusement of his new companions. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely and to have entirely forgotten his original idea regarding an anchor.
But even this soon ceased to be a diversion and the three of them finally settled down as best they could, to look over the various latest editions of the newspapers which Professor Palmer had brought along. These all contained articles about their venture, and furnished quite interesting sidelights to the daring adventurers themselves.
“Here’s a cheerful fellow who has figured out that it will take us two years to cover the thirty-odd million miles to the Martian deserts,” announced Taggert from a precarious perch on the back of a chair with his feet on the seat. Ever since his initial gymnastics he had evinced a preference for birdlike attitudes.
“That’s nothing; here’s one that makes it five years,” contributed Robert cheerfully. “What does your paper say, professor?”
“The lowest estimate has it seven months. We, who know more of the Sphere’s powers than any of them, had figured on about a month; but at the rate we are going now, and faster every second, we ought to reduce our own estimate by half.”
Taggert heaved a sigh of undisguised relief.
“Gosh, professor, that was close. I began to have bright visions of yours truly alongside a harp.”
“No telling what you’ll find yourself alongside when we pull into Mars,” remarked Robert encouragingly.
“I’d rather be by a plate of ‘ham and’ right now than anything else,” answered the scribe. “You gents made me miss my nightly feed.” He felt in his coat pockets and presently fished out a cake of chocolate.
“Why in bedlam didn’t you say so sooner?” admonished Robert, getting up and making his way wobblingly toward a locker. “You might not believe it, but we’ve got a regular restaurant here. I can fill your order right now.”
“Haven’t got a chicken run on board, too?” bantered the reporter.
“Young man, while you and your brethren were busily writing why we would never reach Mars, we were preparing to do it in the right way,” broke in the professor.
“We not only have a substantial supply of fresh eggs put up in silicate of soda for preservation, but cheese, ham, coffee and a number of other good things that you might not have suspected.”
“And you’re going to turn loose a hungry stowaway scribe on all that?” asked Taggert.
“Certainly,” chorused Robert and the professor.
“Do you think we are going to let you starve?” added Robert. “You know we’ve got no undertaker handy.”
“Oh, thanks, thanks!”
A spirit stove was pulled out from a niche in the wall, and presently a generous slice of ham and a couple of eggs were sizzling in the frying pan. An appetizing aroma filled the chamber, causing Taggert to sniff the air hungrily.
“I call this handsome, now,” he commented, gratefully. “I always was a lucky stiff, though, just let me know when I can save your lives or something and I’ll be there.”
This simple repast was supplemented by a round of quickly brewed bouillon.
With their stomachs satisfied a feeling of drowziness came over them all. Taggert stoutly insisted upon standing first watch, but Robert was adamant in his refusal. He explained that it was important that he maintain watch over the machinery for the first shift until the most likely period for development of mechanical trouble was passed.
Professor Palmer also offered to take the first watch, but owing to Robert’s greater familiarity with the mechanism he allowed himself to be prevailed upon. First, however, he carefully inspected the heavens, correcting the Sphere’s course by various constellations, as it had swung a few points away from its objective.
The sun glared in at the windows at the back end of the chamber. The blinds were drawn, darkening the interior to facilitate sleeping. Professor Palmer and Taggert spread the pallets of bedding obtained out of one of the storerooms, and settled themselves to rest.
Through the long hours Robert maintained his lonely vigil.
The machinery continued its musical purr uninterrupted. Once he started the dynamo for a while, causing the temporary opening of a sleepy eye or two. He wished to keep the batteries charged to fullest capacity until they were well on their way, after which their velocity through space could be maintained with a very little expenditure of current.
The prolonged excitement of the past weeks, particularly of the last few days, together with loss of sleep, proved too much for Robert. Several times he caught himself dozing. Lulled by the hum of the machinery, he finally slipped off into oblivion.
Grotesque and confused dreams followed one after the other through his uneasy slumber in seemingly endless fantasy, causing him to mutter incoherently. These finally gave way to a curious vision of a conjured Martian landscape.
Huge cacti and other polypetalous growths formed a dense, forbidding background. As he looked about him it seemed that they had formed a menacing circle round him, which appeared to grow smaller and smaller. Hideous dark growths pushed their thorny leaves up through the loose sand round the edge of the circle, writhing into distorted shapes.
Desperately but fruitlessly his eyes sought some escape from the shrinking circle. The dark wall presented an impregnable barrier. How he had come there he did not know.
Suddenly he was startled by a rustling of the stiff foliage. The agitation of its tops heralded the approach of some being. He momentarily expected to see some dreadful thing leap out from the forbidding jungle—just what, he knew not!
Then, to his intense relief and astonishment, a girl of rare, exotic beauty emerged. Her eyes were like the cool depths of a shaded brook, her really golden-hued hair a delight, the perfection of her soft-clad figure goddesslike. Yet she repelled rather than attracted.
Then, indeed, it seemed as if the doors of paradise had opened. Gone was the aloofness of the moment before. She was smiling—at him.
But even as he took a first eager step toward her and she toward him, a mist seemed to come between them. The amazing loveliness of her faded into the drab desert background. He was alone!
Strange to observe, the threatening jungle was no more. Before his bewildered gaze a trackless desert swept from horizon to horizon. Then this, too, faded.