Ærial Navigation Solved.
Science obtains mastery over the "ethereal blue." Ærial navigation
perfected in 1925. The name of New York city changed to that
of Manhattan. Washington, in the State of Mexico, becomes the
centre of all airship or ærodrome lines. The fascinations of
ærial navigation. From Manhattan to San Francisco in thirty-six
hours, with stops at Chicago, Omaha and Denver. Terrible mid-air
accidents. An air train cloud bound.
The Dreamer, thus far, has invited the attention of the reader to the
political conditions extant in 1999. In the preceding chapters we have
contemplated with feelings exultant, national pride, the superb growth
of the United States of the Americas, from a comparatively narrow strip
of territory in 1899 to a magnificent Republic in 1999, consisting
of eighty-five sovereign States, extending from Alaska to Patagonia,
and embracing in one Republic the continents of North, Central and
South America. In order to arrive at a lucid comprehension of the
political status of the great American Republic and its relationship
towards the world in 1899, we have reviewed the conditions of other
nations of that period. We must now pass on to the consideration
of other social and economic conditions which were prevalent in the
American Republic during the twentieth century.
Do not imagine for one moment that in the brief compass of a century
human nature [Human Nature Remains The Same.] had changed in any
perceptible or appreciable degree. In the year 1899 the traits of
humanity were identical with those which were known to the world in
the days of the Cæsars. The ebb and flow of human passions, love and
hatred in the days of the Pharaohs differed in nowise from those of
1899. If forty centuries did not change our human tendencies, it will
not surprise the reader to learn that in 1999 the human family was much
the same in its tastes and inclinations as in the nineteenth century.
The eighteenth century was an era of oak and sails; the nineteenth
century proved to be an age of iron, steel and steam, but the twentieth
century witnessed far greater strides of improvement resulting from
the solution of the ærial navigation problem and the conquest of
electricity. The solution of these two great problems alone rendered
the twentieth century the most marvelous age of all since the birth
of Christ.
Ever since humanity has trodden upon this green, fruitful world of
ours; ever since the gaze of man has turned upward and penetrated
the skies, from the days of Adam and perhaps ages before that first
settler made his appearance on earth, the problem of ærial navigation
has agitated human breast and brain. To solve this difficult secret
has long been the acme of human ambition. In 1899 we knew very little
more about ærial navigation than did Noah and his family in the days
when Mt. Arrarat was first used as a dry-dock.
Quite certain it is that ærial navigation ten thousand years hence will
be limited to [A Limited Field After all.] a moderate elevation from
the earth. Never as long as the world endures will human beings with
breath in their nostrils and blood in their veins reach or travel at
an altitude of over six miles above the earth's surface. We know this
because death would overtake every venturesome traveler who soared
into those higher regions. A thousand years hence the laws of nature
will still remain immutably the same.
But the ambition of mankind is to control the air at a reasonable
distance from the earth's surface and to navigate an element that is
entirely free from all obstructions. The aim is to so control an ærial
machine that it will not drift before every wind, but cleave the air
and move along its course in defiance of the storm. To this must be
added a guarantee of safety that the public is certain to exact before
embarking upon an ærial voyage. Ærial navigation, no doubt, offers
vast attractions but while sailing through the air, with the ease and
grace of a bird, it might prove very inconvenient for passengers to
fall out at a height of a mile or two and land through the roof of
some peaceful, happy home or find themselves while unceremoniously
falling securely hooked in the fork of a tree. Such little mishaps
in ærial navigation had to be guarded against.
Ærial navigation was perfected about the [The First Airships.]
year 1925. After repeated failures of the Langley system from 1896 to
1920, the learned Washington professor changed his plans. Instead
of endeavoring to lift flat-irons with wings from the ground,
and watching turkey buzzards at anchor in the air over the Potomac
river, Langley finally created an ærial machine that was operated
by electricity and moved by a large, swiftly revolving propeller,
somewhat resembling those employed in steam navigation, but with
blades at a more abrupt angle.
The flying machines which were constructed from 1920 to 1999 on
the Langley plan, were built of Nickalum, an alloy of aluminum,
crystalized, within a magnetic field. The specific gravity of Nickalum,
as employed in the manufacture of ærodromes, or flying machines,
was .512. It was lighter than a thin strip of pine wood, malleable
as gold and impenetrable as steel. Ærodromes could not have been
successfully manufactured in 1920 if Nickalum had not been employed
in their construction.
This new property was one of the marvelous products of the twentieth
century. It was employed in nearly everything which required strength
and elasticity. It was so malleable that waterproof garments, overcoats
and shoes were manufactured of Nickalum as early as the year 1912.
With this wonderful and cheaply manufactured metal, ærial navigation
became a [Ærodromes of Nickalum.] possibility. The old fashion
days of silk balloons drifting helplessly on air currents, had long
passed away. These pre-Adamite curiosities belonged to the period
of the nineteenth century, when man was yet living under primitive
conditions, though by no means in a state of innocence.
Ærodromes constructed of Nickalum were largely employed for traveling
and commercial purposes between 1920 and 1925, while in 1999 they had
reached a high stage of perfection. Ærodromes weighing four hundred
pounds only, in 1925, could easily carry ten persons and cleave their
way like an arrow through a high wind. Small ærodromes carrying four
persons, weighed only one hundred pounds.
If the wind were favorable on their regular trips, the high grade
express ærodromes [Some Fast Traveling.] in 1999, belonging to the
popular Sky-Scraper line, could easily make the trip from Manhattan
(formerly New York) to Washington, in the State of Mexico, a distance
of 1,949 miles in a direct air-line, in fifteen hours, making brief
stops for meals at Columbia, D. C., (formerly called Washington) and
at New Orleans. From the Crescent City it was only a short run across
the deep, blue gulf, to Vera Cruz, then followed a short spurt of two
hundred miles west of Vera Cruz to the national capital, Washington,
then built upon the site of the ancient Aztec City of Mexico. In 1999
this was regarded as a neat, breezy little trip.
The name of New York city (always a meaningless and unpopular one),
had been [The Great City of Manhattan.] changed in 1912 to the more
appropriate one of Manhattan. Its population in 1999 had increased
to 25,000,000 souls. Although the largest metropolis of the world,
Manhattan in 1999 had reached its zenith.
The consolidation of the republics into one vast American Union,
from Alaska to Patagonia, and the removal of Washington as the seat
of our national government, from the little District of Columbia to a
more central and appropriate location in the State of Mexico, as well
as the opening of the Nicaragua Canal, were the leading factors that
contributed to the commercial detriment and undoing of Manhattan. The
star of destiny shone brightly over Mexico as the conspicuous centre
of the new and great American Republic and the volume of the world's
trade passed through the Nicaragua Canal, diverting millions of
freightage that otherwise must have entered the port of Manhattan.
The great air-ship or ærodrome building centre in 1999 was the city
of Manhattan. Upon the Palisades, opposite Grant's tomb and about one
mile east of the lofty Dewey monument, were stationed vast workshops
for building these beautiful and graceful ærodromes. It was ever a
fascinating sight to the men and women of 1999 to see one of these
flying machines starting out of the shops on its trial trip. The
body of the ærodrome was resplendent in brilliant colors and the new
airships always appeared in the bravery of bunting and silk flags.
By act of Congress all ærial navigation companies were obliged to
adopt a certain color and number. The big express lines running from
Manhattan to Rio Janeiro and Mexico, each adopted a prismatic color
along with their official number. The object of this was to enable
people to distinguish at sight an approaching ærodrome and at once
recognize by its color the ærial line to which it belonged.
The U. S. of the A. ærial express ships alone were permitted to
use white paint on [Uncle Sam's Favorite Color.] the hull of their
ærodromes. Thousands of them were employed in the government service
and conveyed troops to all points in the great American Republic. It
was, however, strictly forbidden, under severe penalties, to carry
any munitions of war or any explosives or chemicals upon any ærial
ship whatever. The color of black was employed only on funeral
occasions. The ærodrome, which filled the functions of an ærial hearse
in 1999, was painted all black, hull and sails as well. When the eye
could discern floating in the air and moving swiftly in one direction
a long line of black ærodromes, it became known that one more poor
mortal had entered into rest, and his remains were speeding through
the air to their last resting place, namely, the nearest crematory;
burials of the old style having been prohibited by act of Congress
in 1947 throughout the United States of the Americas.
It was a really thrilling sight to see the large ærodromes in their
brilliant colors sailing through the air with such swiftness and
graceful ease, each one carrying over its stern the flag of the
great Republic with its eighty-five stars. Like beautiful phantoms
they flitted by, gracefully, noiselessly, swiftly cleaving the air
without the least apparent effort. It was an inspiring sight.
Bridal couples in 1999 were frequently married in an ærodrome as it
rested on a [Airship Wedding in 1999.] city square or in a modest
village green. Standing around the airship, which was always decorated
with multi-colored flags and floral designs, were invited guests,
friends and spectators. After the ceremony was over and congratulations
exchanged, the minister, as well as the nearest relatives alighted
from the ærodrome, which immediately commenced to ascend amidst the
hand-clappings, hurrahs and Godspeeds of the gathering. As the ærodrome
gracefully arose about ten feet above terra firma, a few handsful of
rice were thrown at the happy pair, who retaliated by throwing roses
and other flowers at their friends below. When the ærodrome attained
a height of about one hundred feet, the navigator steered the ærial
ship in the direction required and the journey then commenced.
The trip across the continent in an ærial ship was always, in pleasant
weather, a delightful experience. A voyage from Manhattan (formerly
New York), to San Francisco, was a matter of about thirty-six hours,
with stops at Chicago, Omaha and Denver. Sailing through balmy summer
skies, with a continent at one's feet, was an experience never to be
forgotten. It was exhilarating to glide unchecked, without noise or
friction, dust or smoke, over lakes, valleys, plains and mountains. All
sense of danger or fear was banished from the mind.
At night the ærodromes were compelled by law to travel at halt speed,
with two searchlights, fore and aft, in constant operation. The
port lights of all ærodromes were red, and the starboard lights were
green. These precautions were rendered necessary in order to avoid
mid-air collisions. Some disasters in 1999 filled the [Ærodrome
Collisions in Mid-air.] country with alarm. In 1940 a terrible
mid-air collision occurred over Rio Janeiro. Two swift ærodromes,
attached to the Mercury Limited express, collided about 2,000 feet
over that city causing a serious loss of life. Collision in mid-air
was always the nightmare and dread of ærial navigation. People in 1999
had not yet become fully reconciled to the delightful sensation of
dropping out of the clouds and getting their clothes torn on church
steeples and lightning rods. When they made a start for heaven they
were better prepared to make it from earth as a starting point,
rather than making a break for paradise starting from the clouds.
Accidents, unfortunately, were of frequent occurrence. In the columns
of the Hourly Journal, published in the city of Manhattan, (old New
York,) under date of Thursday, July 17, 1984, we find the following
harrowing narrative:
MID-AIR COLLISION!
The Comet Express Collides with the Milky Way Ærostatic Express.
Twenty-five Passengers Dashed to Earth.
Many Saved in the Descent by Using the Air-Life Preservers.
Manhattan, N. Y., 2 p. m., July 17, 1984.--A mid-air collision
resulting in the death of twenty-five persons, and injuries to
many others, occurred at 11 o'clock this morning at a distance
of 2,500 feet over the city of Binghamton, N. Y.
The Transcontinental Comet Express, San Francisco to the eastern
coast, which passes Denver at 10 p. m., takes its easterly flight
and passes over Binghamton about 11 o'clock on the following
day. The west bound Milky Way Express is due over Binghamton at
about the same hour.
A heavy fog arising from the Susquehanna prevailed at the time and
this, added to the fact that a propeller-blade of the Comet Express
was disabled, caused the collision, which collapsed the ærodrome
of the Milky Way, capsizing twenty-five of the passengers, many of
whom fell in the Court House green, being buried in the sod under
the terrific velocity of the fall. One passenger from Cobleskill,
who had just started for a trip to the Yellowstone Park, fell on
the statue of Justice on the dome of the Court House. At noon
his legs had not yet been extricated. The city is plunged in
gloom. Among the killed were five passengers from Sidney, Unadilla
and Bainbridge. The details of their death are too shocking for
recital. The bodies were taken to the Binghamton crematory and
burned. The ashes will be forwarded to-morrow to the relatives.
On the Comet Express from San Francisco, the passengers were more
fortunate. The navigator calmed the fears of the passengers,
many of whom were ready to jump overboard and take a short cut
into Binghamton, frenzied as they were through fear. Those who
jumped were careful to adjust the air life preservers before
leaping. The Comet Express passengers landed in Binghamton safely.
Gen. Burgess had both legs so badly broken that they will have
to be amputated. The surgeons will supply new electrical limbs
that will prove fully as serviceable as the natural ones.
Terrible accidents like the one above described, taken from the columns
of the Hourly Journal, under date of July 17, 1984, were not by any
means the only class of accidents caused in the twentieth century
by ærial navigation. Under the influences of sighing breezes, an
invigorating atmosphere and a mild, genial sun, nothing could be more
delightful than a mid-air excursion on board of an ærodrome. Nothing
could exceed the pleasant sensations one experiences while noiselessly
gliding over tree-tops and church spires.
In 1999 courtships were no longer conducted in the locality of the
much abused garden gate. Love's trysting-place was often transferred
to the roof of the paternal house, where the coy damsel frequently
awaited with anxious heart for the arrival of her lover on an airship.
But, with all its bright attractions, ærial navigation had dangers of
its own, obstacles and difficulties. Here we have another illustration
of the perils of ærial navigation. We copy the following article
from the columns of the Sidney Record, under date of Jan. 15, 1999,
which goes to prove that ærodromes, like all mortals here below,
had troubles of their own:
CLOUD-BOUND.
The Utica Ærostatic Train Delayed by a Mid-air Storm.
Sidney, N. Y., Jan. 15.--There is a cloud-blockade on the line of
the Oregon & New York Ærostatic Transit Co., and the air train
which left Vancouver last evening is stalled at a point 3,000
feet above Norwich, with little prospects of getting away for
several hours.
Cloud-plows have been sent up from Syracuse, but so dense is the
raging ærial snow that the plows have been unable to reach the
stranded train. The storm is the most severe one known in years
in this locality and came on at 8 o'clock last night. It raged
over the city of Sidney all night, although no snow fell.
The Weather Bureau in Washington, Mexico, pronounces it one of the
familiar mid-air storms and places its lowest point at 3,000 feet
above Sidney and its highest at 5,000, making a storm stratum of
2,000 feet. The clouds are banked for a distance of thirty miles
and are almost impenetrable.
The conditions are such as to make telepathic messages to the
conductor of the air train difficult to deliver. A message,
however, was received saying that all are well on board and the
etherize heating apparatus working well.
In the same edition of that paper, on the first page, was published
another account of a serious accident, in which an air-ship soared
too high and broke away from the attraction of the earth's gravity. It
read as follows:
AIR SHIP MISSING.
The Pontiac Ten Days Overdue at Vera Cruz.
Washington, Mexico, Jan. 14. 1999.--The Transoceanic air-freighter
Pontiac has been overdue at Vera Cruz for ten days. It is feared
the ship has got snarled in the upper ether currents. As she has
not been spoken by other air-ships it is probable she has drifted
away from the influence of the earth's gravitation, and drawn
into the orbit of some neighboring planet. It may land in Mars.
Ærial navigation in 1999 was not merely confined to large express,
passenger and [Everybody in the Air.] freight ships, but also came
into general use by the public. The Ærocycle of the twentieth century
was an ærial bicycle that skimmed through the air with admirable ease,
being operated like the old-fashioned bicycles suffering mortals
in 1899 used to jump over hills and rough roads, straining muscle
and nerve to the utmost tension, and frightening horses with their
"bicycle face." Two or three of the bicycles of 1899 were kept
as curiosities in a glass case in 1999 in the war department at
Washington, Mexico. They were regarded as instruments of voluntary
torture, relics of a species of refined barbarism. The invention of
the Ærocycle sealed the doom of bicycles.