downward rush, until finally it hung suspended in the air directly above
the mast tops, drifting slowly astern.
At this close range several round windows could be seen in the heavily
riveted walls of the sphere. A glimpse of the operator was caught as he
busily maneuvered divers levers.
Although evidently of considerable weight, and without visible means of
support or propulsion, the sphere seemed to float in midair as lightly
as a balloon. It appeared to be nearly thirty feet in diameter.
Suddenly a deep humming was heard. A moment later the sphere rose with
gathering speed until it appeared to have reached a height of about half
a mile. Then it shot abruptly off toward the south at great speed,
disappearing rapidly over the horizon.
While this was of great interest to Henry, it but served to increase his
uneasiness. He could think of no good reason for the failure of the
_Sphere_ to return from its trial trip but a fatal reoccurrence of the
mechanical trouble suggested in the freighter’s report.
* * * * *
It was at this point in Henry’s gloomy reflections that a hearty laugh
outside startled him. The professor!
A moment later Robert and Professor Palmer entered. Both were in fine
spirits.
“Should have been along, Henry,” boomed the professor. “Missed the time
of your young life.”
“Been reading about it,” Henry replied, tapping the paper. “Were you
really trying to drop into the lake, or couldn’t you help it?”
“Fast work, Robert,” laughed the professor, as together they read over
the article; “private trial trip in the afternoon--front page headlines
next morning! Not so bad, eh?”
“Just missed the freighter,” gasped Robert. “We didn’t have a chance to
see her until we had checked our drop and drifted off astern. Phew!”
“Never mind,” soothed the professor. “Can’t be helped now. Anyway, they
will probably conclude that we were merely playing with them.”
His mood would not be denied. He seemed more like a boy at that moment
than a dignified professor of fifty-seven.
“You folks seem to have had a dull trip,” remarked Henry, ironically.
“Where were you last night?”
“Must we tell you? Had you accepted our invitation, you’d know,”
retorted the professor. “Man, don’t ask us so many questions. We’re as
hungry as wolves.”
They sat down before the appetizing, crisply fried bacon, and eggs that
Jarvis, the peerless, smiling butler had brought in.
“It was this way, Henry,” resumed the professor, after he had partly
satisfied the inner man: “Robert and I didn’t expect to be gone long,
and unfortunately failed to take any provisions along. Had it not been
for a cake of chocolate in Robert’s pocket, which we shared, we should
have had nothing to eat since we left.”
“But you haven’t told me where you were last night,” persisted Henry.
“Tell him, Robert.”
“Well, after we ran out of power because the storage batteries had not
been fully charged, and narrowly missed sinking that freighter, we had
just enough current left to suspend the _Sphere_ in midair. Then we
started the engines driving the dynamos, and soon had sufficient power
to start back. But boy! It was a close shave.” Robert paused
reminiscently.
“We started back, but changed our minds and decided to see some more of
the country first. You see, at five hundred or more miles an hour, it is
quite a temptation to look around a bit.”
Henry’s countenance registered a curious combination of astonishment and
disbelief.
“Fact,” put in Professor Palmer. “Could have done much better than that,
but didn’t want to heat up the _Sphere_ uncomfortably by excessive air
friction.”
Henry looked very much as if he thought he might be the victim of a
little spoofing. Such wild claims, uttered so coolly, confused him and
aroused his natural skepticism.
Robert resumed his narrative, with a touch of pardonable pride. Behind
him Jarvis stood spellbound, mouth half open, drinking in every word.
“So we flew over to New York, Boston and Baltimore, and looked them
over. Great sport. We became so interested that twilight was upon us
before we had given it a thought.
“It was pretty dark by the time we got back this way. We forgot, too,
that the sun is visible considerably longer from a great height than it
is from the earth’s surface.
“The result was that we could not find our way back here in the dark,
without lights to guide us. So after a fruitless attempt, we gave up and
landed in a large field. There we stayed until dawn, when, upon
ascending again, we discovered that we were only a couple of miles from
here.”
“Moral: Carry a searchlight, and ye shall find,” contributed the
professor.
“And some sandwiches,” added Robert, returning to his interrupted attack
upon the bacon and eggs.
7
The following weeks were crowded ones for the Palmer household. The
account of the _Sphere_ and the activities at the laboratories were
quickly connected by the sharp newspaper world, and acknowledged by
Professor Palmer.
A deluge of newspaper reporters followed. The first were a diversion;
the rest quickly became a nuisance. Once more did journalistic
imagination run wild. Though both Robert and the professor refused to
commit themselves on the subject, the Palmer-Margard feud was revived,
colored with a wealth of imaginary data concerning prospective trips to
Mars in the _Sphere_.
The _Sphere_ was photographed and sketched countless times, as were
Professor Palmer and Robert. Even Henry came in for a share of
publicity.
But the professor had long since determined to attempt the trip to Mars
in the _Sphere_. With this in mind he set about mastering the
intricacies of its apparatus.
The prospect of venturing into the unknown regions beyond the Earth’s
attraction is not one that appeals to the faint-hearted. Even Professor
Palmer frequently had moments of indecision when he all but decided to
drop the project. It would be so easy, reasoned his weaker self, to drop
the matter entirely. The _Sphere’s_ scope on the Earth was sufficient to
make them both a vast fortune, and to bring them great fame.
Nevertheless, he remained stedfast in his decision in spite of the
advice and warnings of his friends, which were anything but reassuring.
He was willing to be a martyr for the possible enlightenment of the
world.
It was Robert, though, who strengthened the professor’s determination,
for he insisted upon accompanying him on the unusual journey.
“I am but an old man, Robert,” Professor Palmer argued, “while you are a
young man in your prime, with a long, promising career before you. The
chances of the _Sphere’s_ reaching Mars safely and returning, in spite
of its remarkable powers, are extremely uncertain. Who knows what
strange phenomena it may encounter in the depths of space? Suppose its
apparatus should fail midway. Think of the fate that may await us. Even
if we reached Mars, and found it inhabited with intelligent beings, how
do we know we should be permitted to return? Take my advice, my boy, and
remain here. You may lose the _Sphere_, but you know its principle, and
have proved its practicability. You can command the services of the
world’s best mechanical skill in the rapid construction of another
_Sphere_, and still others. In addition, I shall leave you my entire
estate and possessions.”
Robert was deeply moved by Professor Palmer’s concern over him and by
his generosity.
“You have been very good to me,” he said. “I appreciate it deeply. But I
am going with you. We will share the dangers together, and together we
will also share the glory of achievement. I believe we are going to
succeed.”
And so, with these two declarations was sealed the pact of partnership
which was to carry them together on the perilous journey.
* * * * *
When their final intention of attempting to reach Mars was announced,
the journalistic world fairly seethed with excitement. Every magazine
issue contained portraits of Robert and Professor Palmer, accompanied by
cuts of the _Sphere_ and the professor’s latest maps and photographs of
the red planet. Never had any human undertaking even mildly approached
theirs in magnitude. They were hailed as the heroes of the hour.
It was agreed that the secrets of the _Sphere_ were to be set down and
placed in a safety deposit box with a certain great trust company, to be
opened and read only in case Robert and the professor failed to return
after two years’ time. Thus, the world could not lose the secret of this
remarkable invention.
Professor Margard, at this point, proved that his opposition to
Professor Palmer’s theories was entirely impersonal. In published
interviews, he highly commended his worthy contemporary’s courage, as
well as that of his companion; but he deplored the dangerous project in
the face of what he considered conclusive evidence against the possible
existence of inhabitants on Mars. “Misdirected courage; misplaced
martrydom,” he termed their intentions.
“Misdirected fiddlesticks,” snorted Professor Palmer when he read this.
“We’ll show these people a thing or two.”
Two weeks were devoted to final preparations for the remarkable
adventure. A powerful, adjustable searchlight had now been installed
within a socket in the bottom of the _Sphere_ to facilitate night travel
and landings in the future. Petrol tanks were filled to capacity, and a
supply of water taken on, some of which would be used in the cooling
coils of the engines. A liberal quantity of life-giving oxygen was
forced into the high-pressure tanks. Without this to constantly freshen
the air within the _Sphere_, they could not live, as, after passing
beyond the Earth’s envelope of atmosphere into the void of space, they
would have no means of replenishing their air supply. A small supply of
nitrogen was also added as a precaution against the total loss of the
little ball of atmosphere guarded by the walls of the _Sphere_.
While oxygen had to be replenished as their respiration consumed it, the
supply of nitrogen would remain virtually the same except for a slight
seepage through the sealed walls when the protecting pressure of the
Earth’s atmosphere was removed. The atmospheric pressure within the
_Sphere_ would be about fifteen pounds to the square inch, with the
absolute vacuum of space hungrily enveloping the exterior. An apparatus
for absorbing the carbonic acid gas thrown off by their lungs was also a
part of the _Sphere’s_ equipment.
Robert tinkered about the _Sphere_, constantly inspecting every part
with painstaking care. The resilient rubber window strips, insuring
against the loss of the precious atmosphere, were looked to with
especial care. The heavy glass panes were examined minutely for possible
signs of fracture, or flaws. Such a defect would prove disastrous if it
should give way under the pressure within when they were in space. They
would then be placed in a vacuum in which no living body can exist. So
sudden would such a disaster be that they would have no opportunity, nor
means, of saving themselves. All windows, however, were equipped with
double panes for safety as well as warmth. They were also fitted outside
with guards of heavy wire net.
The lubricating reservoirs of the gyrostats were filled carefully; the
bearings were cleaned perfectly. Engines were tuned, and, in short,
every bit of mechanism was tested and regulated to a point of
perfection.
On the first day of August everything was in readiness for the start of
the momentous journey.
Provisions, chiefly of the non-perishable and concentrated variety, had
been generously stored in the _Sphere’s_ food chests. There was a
sufficient quantity to last them for months.
Although the world at large understood that the _Sphere_ would start on
its trip about this time, Robert and the professor had decided to
withhold information as to the exact day or hour of their departure.
Neither one desired a public demonstration. In spite of the pleas of
divers reporters who besieged them, they refused to divulge the time set
for their departure.
* * * * *
As the last day of their stay on Earth approached, Robert was torn by
conflicting emotions. At one moment the venture stood forth in all its
glory of achievement and adventure; the next, with appalling realization
of its vastness, its unknown terrors. From time immemorial, man has
instinctively dreaded the unknown, and Robert was plainly afraid. But,
though the possibility of backing out did naturally occur to him with
devilish persistence, he always rejected it promptly, determinedly. He
would not countenance the thought of deserting the professor.
It had finally been decided to start on the following day, the second of
the month.
Anxious reporters hovered about the place, each eager to make a “scoop”
for his own paper. The more enterprising tried to wheedle some
information out of Henry or the taciturn Jasper.
“Now, young mon, ye’ll kindly bate it. I’ve no time to bother with the
likes of ye,” the good-natured but sorely bothered Jarvis finally told
them, one after another, as they approached him.
Henry, equally annoyed, decided upon cunning.
“I’m not certain,” he was repeating, confidentially, for the third time
that day, “but I understand that they plan starting on the sly tomorrow
night.”
The young reporter with the brilliant red hair listened with apparently
keen interest. He thanked the secretary politely, and departed. But a
curious smile on his face as he turned away would not have exactly
reassured Henry had he seen it. Evidently the redhead retained some
ideas of his own. His sharp, intelligent features did not give him the
appearance of one easily fooled by subterfuge.
And indeed he was not. Hugh Taggert had a trait of always trying to
out-think the other fellow--and he usually succeeded. Probably it was
this that had made him the most valuable man on the _Morning
Chronicle’s_ staff of reporters.
That the secretary had tried to mislead him Taggert felt certain. But as
to when the _Sphere_ was scheduled to start, he knew no more than
before. However, Henry’s statement had a significance which suggested
something to his alert mind. The night start did not seem unlikely, but
that a man of the character he keenly judged Henry Simms to be should
readily give his employer’s secret plans away, did seem unlikely. He
determined not only to redouble his vigilance, but to remain on watch
that very night instead of waiting for the next night.
Henry’s mistake was in mentioning anything about night at all. His idea,
of course, was merely to induce the troublesome reporters to lose a
whole night’s sleep uselessly.
As a matter of fact, it mattered little to Robert and the professor
whether their departure was observed or not. It simply amused them to
evade the persistence of their besiegers if they could.
8
Despite their determination, and the intense interest in their great
project, it was with many secret misgivings that Robert and Professor
Palmer stood without the improvised hangar on that memorable night. They
were about to embark on the strangest journey that man had ever
attempted.
Henry Simms alone accompanied them to see them off. Till the last he had
tried to persuade them to abandon the dangerous project, but without
avail.
To Robert, the stars had never seemed quite so brilliant, the night so
bewitching. The very air seemed to have a special tang and sweetness
which he had never before noticed. The myriad sounds of the night
possessed a magic power of enchantment over him. He caught himself
wondering inconsequently whether he should ever again hear the soothing
voice of the crickets and other denizens of the summer twilight; whether
such sounds might be heard on Mars if they reached it.
Quietly they took leave of Henry and filed into the _Sphere_. The trap
slammed shut, and Robert and the professor were enveloped in the dead,
black silence of the _Sphere’s_ interior. It was at this point that
Robert’s resolution reached its ebb. Had Professor Palmer turned to him
at that moment and again begged him to remain safely on Earth, he could
not have resisted the temptation.
Never had a glow of light seemed so comforting as that which flooded the
_Sphere_ a moment later. The temptation of the previous minutes fled. In
its place Robert felt only an eagerness to be on his way. Nevertheless,
when they had mounted to the main compartment, he opened one of the
windows and leaned out, thirstily drinking in deep breaths of the keen
night air.
Toward the east a silver tinge on the horizon heralded the rising of the
moon. The two tall stacks of the laboratories were silhouetted sharply
against the brightening sky. Their black outlines were registered
indelibly in Robert’s memory for years afterward. It all seemed like a
grotesque dream. Somewhere the shrill scream of a screech-owl cut into
the night, breaking the spell.
Final farewells were passed with Henry below, and the window slammed to
into its soft rubberstripped socket. The air-purifying devices were put
into operation.
With Henry’s aid they had already removed the _Sphere_ from its stall.
Its machinery had been carefully inspected that afternoon. With a final
glance over everything, they prepared to start at once. For the first
time the full electrified lifting power of the disk was to be used.
Storage batteries had been charged to capacity.
“All ready, professor?” called Robert.
“Let her go.”
There was a soft jar, and the Earth began dropping away. The altimeter
registered three thousand feet when Robert opened the second shutter.
Immediately the landscape began receding at a disconcerting rate. With a
moment of involuntary hesitation, Robert pushed the third button,
entirely baring the disk’s surface. An answering roar from without
indicated the terrific speed at which they were leaving the Earth’s
surface.
“Twenty thousand,” read Professor Palmer.
Almost as he finished speaking the instrument registered another
thousand feet. They were rising at virtually the same rate as they had
been traveling parallel to the Earth’s surface during their original
trial trip.
The moon, nearly full, was now in full view because of their height. It
had also risen sufficiently to cast long, grotesque shadows of trees and
other objects on the Earth’s surface. Roads appeared as narrow, winding
ribbons; houses as mere faint blots.
A minute later they had reached a level of 62,000 feet. Doltaire’s
remarkable and recently established airplane record of 46,800 feet was
already eclipsed by more than 15,000 feet! The dusky landscape began to
take on a blurred appearance. As yet Robert had not turned the current
into the disk, fearing excessive air friction. Time enough for that when
they had arisen beyond the belt of atmosphere which enveloped the Earth
some 200 miles deep. This figure had been approximated from observations
of falling meteors, which become white-hot from air friction as they
fall with terrific speed from space into the envelope of atmosphere.
* * * * *
“Ah--pardon me, gentlemen,” a quiet voice said suddenly.
Robert and the professor wheeled sharply, thoroughly startled.
To their astonishment, they beheld a man walking toward them!
“W-where did you come from?” stammered Robert, the first to recover his
speech.
The newcomer, however, did not seem to share their surprize in the
least. Rather he appeared to be very much at ease. His brilliant red
hair, the easy and pleasant smile on his intelligent features, stamped
him as an ordinary, normal person. But how had he come there?
“My apologies, gentlemen,” spoke the stranger. “I determined to cover
this trip for _The Chronicle_, and hid in a storeroom. Hugh Taggert’s my
name.”
He advanced and shook hands with them both heartily.
“Thought I might as well get acquainted right away,” he ran on, “since
we are going to be companions all the way to Mars. Nifty little ship
you’ve got.”
Until now their astonishment had kept Robert and the professor
speechless. With the disclosure of the identity of the nervy young
reporter, however, the humor of the situation struck them both.
“We hadn’t counted on company,” said the professor, “but now that you’re
here, I can’t say that I’m sorry. Kind of livens the trip up, eh,
Robert? Not so lonesome. But you’ve got your nerve, young man!”
“You’re certainly welcome, so far as I’m concerned, Taggert,” said
Robert, agreeably. “Only you might have to share some scanty rations
before we land.”
“Shan’t mind that,” was the reply. “Brought some myself to help out.”
He picked up a good-sized cubical package from where he had set it down
a few minutes before.
“Bouillon cubes, malted milk tablets, and chocolate,” he explained,
tapping the parcel.
“Fair enough,” said Robert.
“Boys,” interrupted the professor, “take a look at old Mother Earth
now.”
With one accord they hurried to the windows to gaze upon the receding
Earth, which for a minute they had almost forgotten.
The wavering altimeter indicated a height of more than 125,000
feet--almost twenty miles!
The semi-luminous Earth far below them now presented a dull, nebulous
appearance, devoid of landmarks, except that far to the southeast a
faint thread of lighter color wound its way irregularly across the
country; this they judged to be the Ohio River. One other
distinguishable mark was a small, dimly illuminated patch indicating the
city near the laboratories.
“Good old Earth, good-bye,” said Taggert.
His customarily cheerful voice contained a note of awe. Indeed, the
sight was sufficient to strike awe into anyone’s heart; but then,
Taggert was thinking, too, of a certain dark-haired and brown-eyed lass
who would be waiting anxiously for him to return to her.
At the end of a fifteen-minute wait, basing his estimate on their former
rate of ascension, when the altimeter was still registering accurately,
Robert calculated that they had reached a distance of approximately 150
miles above the Earth. At this distance the atmosphere should be
sufficiently thinned to eliminate it as a factor of interference with
their course or danger of air friction. He could now safely utilize the
disk’s full magnetic power. With the resistance of the atmosphere
reduced to nothing, their speed was doubtless already increasing, and
with the maximum pull of the disk developed by the current from the
storage batteries, their velocity would quickly double and redouble
until they were rushing through space at a terrific rate. Thus would
they continue exactly like a planet until checked by the attraction of
some other body or a readjustment of the disk. Just how great a velocity
they might obtain they had been unable to determine accurately, but it
was considered not improbable that the _Sphere_ might reach Mars within
a month.
Under Professor Palmer’s guidance Robert now laid their course for Mars,
carefully focusing the disk upon it. The full propulsive force of the
disk was about to be used for the first time. All three watched tensely
through the windows as Robert prepared to throw on the switch that would
charge the mythonite with electricity.
An answering jar was felt as contact was made with the first terminal.
By degrees, their velocity was increased until the full energy of the
powerful batteries was diverted into the disk.
“Why, the old gourd’s shrinking like a toy balloon!” gasped Taggert,
watching the Earth intently.
Indeed, the rapidly changing appearance of the Earth was evidence of the
remarkable rate at which they were shooting away from it. Gradually the
entire continent took shape before their eyes, presenting an appearance
startlingly like the relief maps one sees in every geography. Here and
there, however, fields of clouds hid sections of it.