The waning of a worldBackus, W. Elwyn (Waldo Elwyn)
Science
The waning of a world
Backus, W. Elwyn (Waldo Elwyn)
Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space flight to Mars -- Fiction; Space ships -- Fiction
“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.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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