History of a World of Immortals without a God / Translated from an unpublished manuscript in the library of a continental university

by Unknown

So the new fleet was at once put on the stocks, and all the Hesperian dockyards were provided with work in abundance for several years. Meanwhile the original ship was kept on hard duty. On each voyage, and in both directions, she was crowded with passengers, some eager to see the new discovered world, others longing to revisit the scenes of their former life. Presently, as one of the results of the discovery, there arose an important question in international law. Whether those persons, now residing in the southern hemisphere, and subjects of its government, but whose evanescence had taken place subsequently to the establishment of the universal empire of the north, were still bound by their northern allegiance, or, had the fact of evanescence discharged them of that allegiance, thus leaving them lawful citizens of the south.

The question involved some nice points; but fortunately there never was any occasion to bring it to an issue. For, the advantages arising from the amalgamation of all the northern governments into one universal empire were so manifest, and were so thoroughly appreciated even in the south, that the union of the two hemispheres in one universal planet empire very speedily took place. In fact it took place immediately after the important preliminary question was settled, In which hemisphere should the seat of the central government be fixed? Many circumstances seemed to suggest that it should be in the south, and at the pole.

The explanation of the real significance of evanescence which ultimately revolutionized Hesperian life, was not the only piece of astounding intelligence imported into Lasondre by the submarine ship, on her first return voyage. Even in the midst of the general stupefaction occasioned by the return of the dead, the announcement of another extraordinary discovery excited the attention of the citizens. This was no less than a method whereby instantaneous communication might take place between two persons no matter how widely separated they might be on the surface of the planet.

The discovery was made in this way. About one thousand years earlier, a man who was an earnest student of chemical science, was engaged in trying some experiments at Lucetta. These experiments were of a highly dangerous character; and one day, notwithstanding all precautions, a terrific explosion took place. So violent was it, and so minute were the fragments to which the experimentalist’s body was thereby reduced, that there was scarcely need for the first law of evanescence to operate in removing the remains from the land of the living. However, of course, it did operate, and the chemist was duly reintegrated at the South Pole. He was, as usual, received by the vigilance committee, who explained to him, as they were in duty bound to do, the circumstances of his new life.

The chemist, nothing daunted, proposed continuing his experiments; and the southern authorities, hearing the nature of them, and suspecting that a considerable series of sudden disintegrations and reintegrations of his body were likely to result, kindly assigned him a laboratory quite close to the pole—a fact which materially facilitated the memorable discovery which soon rewarded his labours.

At a distance of a few miles to the east there is a hill which is mainly composed of a singular-looking mineral which has not, as yet, been found anywhere else in the planet. This mineral occurs at a very small depth below the surface, in separate masses, none of them exceeding ten pounds in weight, is of a bright green colour, and possesses the remarkable property of very easily splitting into exceedingly fine rods, no thicker than an ordinary needle.

Desiring to make an analysis of this mineral, which the southerners called molygdon, the chemist procured a great quantity of these rods, cut them into lengths of a few inches, and tied them up tightly in bundles which he left for some days on a shelf in his laboratory till he was ready to examine them. When he was at leisure, he took one of these bundles, untied it, and threw the little rods into a flat vessel full of water, in which they floated, their specific gravity being small. To his great surprise the rods speedily assumed positions parallel to each other. He twisted one of them a little out of its direction, whereupon all the others turned through the same angle, so that the parallelism remained.

At last, after a long and careful series of experiments he succeeded in establishing the following momentous law:—Two needles of molygdon which have been kept in close contact for not less than thirty-six hours at any spot not exceeding three hundred yards’ distance from the South Pole, possess the property of always remaining parallel to each other, whenever they are freely suspended in parallel planes, no matter how they are situated with respect to each other on the surface of the planet.

This discovery afforded an easy mode of immediate communication between any two places in the southern hemisphere. All that was needful was to suspend two needles, rendered sympathetic by the above process, on pivots in the centres of two circular cards. A code of signals was easily devised, sufficient for ordinary purposes; and, by placing the letters of the alphabet round the edges of the cards, verbal conversation could be carried on.

Soon after the discovery of this important law of nature, the southern parliament resolved to utilise it on a vast scale by founding an institution which would enable any two persons, even without being in possession of two directly sympathizing needles, to communicate with each other. It was estimated that the population of the south was not much under twenty-five millions. Accordingly, twenty-five million pairs of these sympathetic needles were manufactured, and each needle was mounted in a suitable circular box. This was done at the national expense; the intention being that one box should be given to each inhabitant of the south, the corresponding box being deposited in a building to be erected in the metropolis for the special purpose of the safe custody of the duplicates. As each box was a small cylinder, not exceeding three inches in diameter and one inch in height, no very large space was required for their accommodation. These duplicates were all arranged in order and numbered; the corresponding number being stamped on each sympathetic box.