History of a World of Immortals without a God / Translated from an unpublished manuscript in the library of a continental university

by Unknown

Whereupon two ships were specially constructed for the purpose of carrying out this exploration. They were of extraordinary strength, fitted with immensely powerful gas-engines, and provided with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of the necessary chemical agents. A crew of one hundred volunteers embarked in each, and they started together on their perilous expedition. After eighty-five days one of these ships returned, but only twenty-five of her crew were with her; the rest had vanished either by mortal lesion or metronomic misery. The survivors reported the existence of an absolute pandemonium. The crew had succeeded in forcing the ship about fifty miles further into the zone of tempests than any of the former explorers. But further progress was hopeless. The man who before described to me one of the waves as a wandering cataract was among those who escaped, and his escape was a very narrow one indeed. He told me himself that when he got back into port his negative metronomic balance wanted but a few units of the point which would have terminated his career. And though they succeeded in forcing their way out of the tornado, this was only accomplished by putting on such power as threatened to tear the sides out of the ship. One of the Niagara-like waves fell on the sister-ship, and she was never seen again.

After this tragedy an act was passed forbidding all attempts to enter the South Sea. Though many volunteers were ready to risk their lives, the legislature refused to sanction such peril.

So now the Hesperian knowledge of the Universe, at the period I speak of, may be shortly summed up as follows:—They knew that their place of abode was a spherical cap. Some had at first maintained that it was a circular plain; but this theory was soon exploded. The uniformly circular horizon visible at sea, and on every large plain, and the results obtained from a general survey of the continent by triangulation, combined to discredit the planar and establish the spherical theory. They knew, also, from pendulum and other experiments, that, at a spot coincident with the centre of the presumed sphere on which they lived, an unknown centre of force existed to which all bodies on the surface tended. And beyond this knowledge there was a great blank. What lay outside the cloud-screen or beyond the equatorial ocean had not entered into the Hesperian mind to conceive.

The attempt to pass the ocean, and the hopes of thereby being enabled to gain some further knowledge of the works of the Unknown Maker, having been completely baffled, the attention of the Hesperians was at once concentrated on their only remaining resource—the possibility of penetrating quite through the cloud-screen. Could this be passed, it was possible that something might be found beyond it which would throw some light on the dark problem of their origin. But difficulties, seemingly insuperable, lay directly in the way of any such attempt. I have already mentioned that a chain of gigantic mountains extends in a south-easterly direction for several thousands of miles from the vicinity of the North Pole, and that several of the peaks of this chain attain an altitude of not less than twenty miles. But, to the ancient Hesperians, the real height of these peaks was quite unknown. No man had ever seen their summits, for they were lost in the cloud-screen.

It might certainly be supposed that here was an obvious way of entering, and possibly penetrating through the screen. But a very short description of the physical features of the mountains will suffice to dispel any such notions.

All the engineers who had made a minute survey of the great mountain chain seem to have agreed that the particular peak which afforded the most favourable opportunity for ascent is one which is situated at about three thousand miles from the pole. It should be remembered that the level of the cloud-screen crosses these peaks at an altitude of about twenty miles, or, in round numbers, one hundred and five thousand feet.

At the place referred to, the several stages of the ascent would be as follows:—First, about twenty thousand feet of easy slopes lead to a wide table-land, a resort much frequented by Hesperian households on account of its delightfully cool and bracing climate. Then follow ten thousand feet of steep ascent to the glacier region. This region, which is commonly regarded as the most formidable obstacle to success, extends, at an average inclination of forty-five degrees, to a vertical height of twenty thousand feet more. The strata of rainclouds, which are as different in formation from the cloud-screen as water is from smoke, never attain a greater elevation than ten miles; so here we have the limit above which neither rain nor snow can be deposited, and where, consequently, the glacier region ends.

This brings us to an altitude of fifty thousand feet above the level of the ocean, and next comes the region of precipices which stretch up to the cloud-screen. This final ascent is divided into three gigantic steps; the first, and smallest of them, about ten thousand feet high, leads to a wide plateau; next comes the most awful of the three, not less than thirty thousand feet, terminating in a much narrower terrace, from which starts the last of the steps. This is not exactly a precipice, but a slope of seventy-five degrees; about fifteen thousand feet of this are visible; it then enters the cloud and is lost to view.

The above description has, I trust, made it manifest that an attempt to reach the screen by the mountain route would prove a very arduous undertaking. Vast labour and cost would be essential, and here the advantages of the great world-parliament became exceedingly conspicuous. The enterprise was cheerfully voted to be a world-work. There was no fear that it would come to an untimely end through lack of any material supplies. A committee of the ablest engineers was appointed to examine and report on the most favourable spot for commencing operations. They were not long in coming to an unanimous decision, and the works began.

It was resolved to drive a tunnel the whole way from the table-land under the glacier as far as its upper edge. This formidable work was found to be quite indispensable, in consequence of the incessant avalanches and ice-falls which, issuing from the glacier, fell down the steep slope to the table-land. Indeed, they were obliged to start the tunnel at a distance of fully five miles from the foot of the slope, as a security against the blocking of the entrance. Running nearly horizontally for these five miles, it then bent upwards at an angle of forty-five degrees, and, after a total rise of thirty thousand feet, issued at the top of the glacier, close to the foot of the first step in the series of precipices. The excavation of this tunnel, which was nearly thirteen miles long, was an exceedingly formidable task. But it was undertaken with such zeal and energy, and carried on with such perseverance, that the seemingly insuperable obstacles were at last overcome. Gangs of experienced miners, superintended by skilful engineers, relieved each other, night and day, at the work. Every material required was supplied in profusion. The new dynamical agent which had supplanted the vapour of water as a motor force, had been rendered available for instantaneous percussive action, after the manner of gunpowder, but with incomparably greater energy; and this was extensively utilised for the removal of the rocks. Still, as it was not possible to work at the tunnel except on one face, several years elapsed before the miners emerged into daylight at the top of the glacier.