Manned space flight -- Fiction; Moon -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space flight to the moon -- Fiction; Space ships -- Fiction
He knew exactly what he was saying. The dazzling glitter did not deceive
_him_. Such a meteor seen from the Earth could not appear much brighter
than the Full Moon, but here in the midst of the black ether and
unsoftened by the veil of the atmosphere, it was absolutely blinding.
These wandering bodies carry in themselves the principle of their
incandescence. Oxygen is by no means necessary for their combustion.
Some of them indeed often take fire as they rush through the layers of
our atmosphere, and generally burn out before they strike the Earth. But
others, on the contrary, and the greater number too, follow a track
through space far more distant from the Earth than the fifty miles
supposed to limit our atmosphere. In October, 1844, one of these meteors
had appeared in the sky at an altitude calculated to be at least 320
miles; and in August, 1841, another had vanished when it had reached the
height of 450 miles. A few even of those seen from the Earth must have
been several miles in diameter. The velocity with which some of them
have been calculated to move, from east to west, in a direction contrary
to that of the Earth, is astounding enough to exceed belief--about fifty
miles in a second. Our Earth does not move quite 20 miles in a second,
though it goes a thousand times quicker than the fastest locomotive.
[Illustration: THEY COULD UTTER NO WORD.]
Barbican calculated like lightning that the present object of their
alarm was only about 250 miles distant from them, and could not be
less than a mile and a quarter in diameter. It was coming on at the rate
of more than a mile a second or about 75 miles a minute. It lay right in
the path of the Projectile, and in a very few seconds indeed a terrible
collision was inevitable. The enormous rate at which it grew in size,
showed the terrible velocity at which it was approaching.
You can hardly imagine the situation of our poor travellers at the sight
of this frightful apparition. I shall certainly not attempt to describe
it. In spite of their singular courage, wonderful coolness,
extraordinary fortitude, they were now breathless, motionless, almost
helpless; their muscles were tightened to their utmost tension; their
eyes stared out of their sockets; their faces were petrified with
horror. No wonder. Their Projectile, whose course they were powerless as
children to guide, was making straight for this fiery mass, whose glare
in a few seconds had become more blinding than the open vent of a
reverberating furnace. Their own Projectile was carrying them headlong
into a bottomless abyss of fire!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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