I was prepared of course, to find a great observatory far surpassing
our feeble edifices, but accustomed as I was now to the stupendous, I
could not resist an exclamation of amazement. Below us in the pleasant
valley of the Housatonic was what I at first took to be batteries of
gigantic siege guns on immense concrete emplacements.
“They must be telescopes of course,” I said recovering from my
stupefaction. “But if you were to tell me that the war of the worlds
was imminent and that you were preparing against an invasion of the
Martians--I could easily believe you.”
“Always thinking in terms of war! How like a man!” said Acquilla,
but with the affectionate superiority that in my day the husband was
gratified to show his wife. “As you surmised they are great telescopes,
at least seventy in number, but as you will see, they are also immense
inter-stellar radio receiving stations as well as transmitters.”
“You have communicated with Mars!” I exclaimed, flushing with
excitement.
“Mars? That would be pastime for children, but wait and learn for
yourself.”
We began to settle gently on the great common and despite every
intention to repress my amazement, I remained gazing open-mouthed. Seen
from below, the mammoth proportions of these cupolas and stretching
barrels, dwarfed the imagination. Several of the telescopes were
two to three thousand feet in length, so grim, so formidable and so
menacing in their confrontation of the firmament above, that were
they instruments of destruction I could well imagine them capable of
blotting out the moon in a single terrific blast.
We approached the principal observatory which was so vast that St.
Peter’s might have formed an ante-room.
“When you enter here,” said Acquilla, “enter in reverence. To us, it is
a temple in which lie the illimitable mysteries of what the human mind
can achieve.”
I saw her eyes lit with visions and her cheeks suffused with emotion.
I, myself, felt the contagion and with quickened pulses, followed
her into the great dome of what I found to be the central recording
station. Around the great hall were written in letters of gold, six
feet high, the famous prophecy of Manfreda:
WHATEVER WOMAN CAN CONCEIVE IN HER
IMAGINATION SHE WILL ACHIEVE BY HER WILL
While I was still lost in the immensity of the cathedral spaces, Stella
approached. She embraced me, but in a more restrained manner than
that to which by now, I had become accustomed. In type she of course,
resembled the blonde litheness of Acquilla, but with a more ascetic
maturity in her expression.
“You come in good time, Bogardus,” she exclaimed. “For you will
witness a sight no one in your day could ever have dreamed of--the
most magnificent spectacle in creation--the explosion of a sun twenty
thousand light years away.”
“Good heavens, where?” I exclaimed, looking about me hastily.
“Oh, there is no hurry,” said Stella, smiling at my excitement. “We
have a good three quarters of an hour ahead of us.”
“But how can you tell?” I cried staring at her incredulously.
“Oh, the breaking up of a solar system is an every day spectacle with
us.”
“Explain to Bogardus first,” said Acquilla, “how greatly we have
extended our vision of the known astral world since his day.”
“But first explain,” I objected, “why there are so many observatories.
Why more than one? Acquilla tells me there are at least seventy.”
“Seventy-three and there ought to be twenty times that number,” replied
Acquilla shaking her head. “You see, Bogardus, with the immense range
of the modern telescope which the discovery of the high-magnification
of inter-stellar radioactivity has brought us, the field of sight has
become so vast that one of these great telescopes can cover no more
than the space occupied by our sun in the firmament. It is true that
with the great stations in Europe and Asia, not to speak of ours in
Arizona and the West, over three thousand telescopes are concentrated
on a minute observation of the stars--but what an inadequate patch that
represents!”
“Then how many stars are in your vision now?”
“There is no mathematical figure that can give any adequate estimate,”
said Stella. “Roughly speaking, there are a hundred million stars of
a size greater than our own sun which we can place under accurate
observation and see as clearly as you saw Mars.”
“And you can measure the distances?”
“Certainly, but the computation is so intricate, that it requires ten
years steady application of our finest mathematicians.”
“Why? Some new theory of relativity?” I said, brightening up.
“Oh, all the old parallaxes were wrong,” replied Stella. “The Einstein
theories which seemed so revolutionary in your day have all had to
be adjusted to the new theory of Ir-relativity--yes, a truly complex
computation.”
“Can it be expressed in any words that will give us a glimpse at least
of its character?” said Acquilla curiously.
“Quite impossible! The simplest computation and I cite it to you to
show you how intricate the whole problem has to be--is one you can
perhaps understand. If an electric stream transverse another of equal
strength so as to bisect it perpendicularly, the arrestation of the
speed of the bisector can be nicely calculated. But if you vary the
relative potency of the two streams and the angle of the crossing you
naturally must have different variations.”
“Oh, naturally,” I replied drawing a long breath.
“That is simple, isn’t it?”
“All theories are simple, if you don’t try to understand them,” I said
gravely.
“Well, would you believe that is only the abc’s of the problem. We
know now that space is a great electric sea, of which the currents are
formed by myriads of light rays, crossing and recrossing, impinging
on each other, causing countless intricate refractions and deviations.
It is to bring order into these formerly undivided factors--the
unsuspected, seemingly irrelative factors, that we have had to
promulgate our new theory. The Einstein theory was founded on new
principles of relativity, the new theory is, of course, based on the
discovery that nothing in creation is irrelative to the consideration
of the properties of an apparent mass. When you realize, Bogardus, that
the rays from the star Abacadabrun must traverse the paths of hundreds
of thousands of planets’ streams--but you are perhaps a mathematician?”
“Thank God, no!” I exclaimed holding my head. “My dear Stella, show
me everything, but for heaven’s sake don’t, don’t, I beg you, try to
explain anything!”
“Thanks, Bogardus, my head is reeling too,” said Acquilla, and to my
amazement, she began to laugh.
Stella noticed it and gazed at her in alarm.
“Acquilla you are in pain!”
“No, no, it is nothing,” said Acquilla hastily, making me a sign to be
silent. “I never could understand mathematics, anyhow. But now Stella,
leaving us outside the higher knowledge, explain to Bogardus the
organization of your plant.”
Stella, abandoning the subject rather reluctantly, drew my attention
to a great number of doors leading to a hundred receiving rooms in each
of which one could follow on a circular glass plate the observations of
the different telescopes (these observations were likewise radioed to
the receiving sets in the home theatres). Whenever it was desirable to
concentrate on some unusual phenomena, the moving picture record was
placed in the great magnifiers underneath the floor and the projection
thrown on the top of the dome above our heads.
“But you will see for yourself,” said Stella breaking off. “We have
just time--”
At this moment, like the voice of the call boy in the theatre, a
mechanical voice cried:
“Ten minutes before the explosion!”
“Place yourself here,” said Stella, indicating one of several inclined
couches and throwing herself down on one. “To give you some idea of
what you are witnessing, I have arranged an interesting visualization.
Here is the star as it appears to the naked eye.”
I gazed up eagerly as a complete night shut out all outlines of the
hall.
“Where?”
“Watch in the centre of the cupola above you.”
“I see nothing.”
“Not even a pin prick of light?”
“Yes, perhaps.”
“Now watch it grow as we magnify it.”
The little dot of light grew into a perceptible twinkle, became a ball
of fire, expanded with alarming rapidity until I shrank from it in
alarm as though it were going to burst over me.
“There,” said Stella when on the surface of the cupola appeared a
luminous whirling molten mass almost the size of a football, revolving
with staggering velocity. “We are now about to witness the gestation
of a new solar system. And remember this happened twenty thousand
years--light years--ago. Look!”
All at once the spinning mass threw off a number of flaming particles
which slowly proceeded in different directions leaving the main mass
reduced at least a half in diameter.
“But why is the speed so gradual?” I exclaimed, rather disappointed.
“Gradual! Have you forgotten the distance we are looking across and
that the slightest fraction of space traversed has to be reckoned in
hundreds of thousands of miles?”
“True, I forgot,” I said humbly. “But then, Stella, you can follow the
whole process to the final stabilization of a new solar system.”
“Certainly. Within a day the minor satellites will be arrested in
their flight. Before a week is over the whole new gravital balance will
be accomplished.”
“Wonderful! What good luck to have seen it!”
“Oh, but this is an hourly spectacle in infinity, if our telescopes
only knew where to find them.”
“I could remain spellbound--”
“You have seen all in principle,” said Stella, flooding the room with
light. “Yes, the first time you see it, it is tremendously impressive.
Think, Bogardus, that we can now trace the whole creation of a world
from the first solar paroxysm to the beginnings of an atmosphere, to
the arrival of planets and the beginnings of vertebrate existence.”
“But that is a process that covers billions of years.”
“And there are billions of solar systems in infinity, Bogardus, all
in different stages of growth or decay. Think of the achievements of
astronomy that lie ahead of us, when we have adequate facilities for
observation. When I think what another age may know!” added Stella,
shaking her head impotently.
“It would be amusing to show him life on some nearby planet,” suggested
Acquilla.
“Then other worlds are inhabited!” I exclaimed.
“Every world has been at some time inhabited but with various forms
of life. But to understand the infinite complexities of nature you
must understand this. It was only the vanity of man” (she pronounced
the word with the accent of Acquilla’s superior disdain) “that
could conceive of intelligent life only in his own image. There are
worlds where the inhabitants resemble us, but there are myriads of
civilizations, perhaps at a much greater development than ours, where
the dominant vertebrates are plainly of birdlike characteristics, or
insects, or, various curious strains of fauna.”
“Insects--creating an intelligent world, thinking, conversing,
imagining?” I cried incredulously.
“Why not? The determination of the dominant vertebrate in any world is
largely a conjunction of accidents, in the first sanguinary struggles
for existence. Yes, indeed, the insect worlds are of an astonishing
degree of intelligence. You will be surprised to know that Neptune is
inhabited by a race plainly derived from an insect ancestry.”
“But an insect--how feeble!”
“Bogardus, think a moment. The common flea or the grasshopper, has
relatively a vastly superior muscular strength than man. And when you
have insects ten times the size of a woman!”
“Show me at once and don’t tantalize me with your explanations,” I
exclaimed feverishly.
“Here then, is a typical Neptunian community of today,” said Stella,
leading the way into a small hall and signalling for a reel. “You see
the type has some resemblance to the dragon fly, or the winged ant that
we know. It is a true matriarchal state from the beginning, and for
that reason has probably developed so rapidly. You speak of insects.
Imagine woman twenty feet tall, equipped with wings and not two hands
and feet but eight. Imagine the strength imparted and the power of
locomotion that we cannot possess!”
It was true, the Neptunians were of undoubted insect characteristics
and as Stella had so proudly proclaimed, of a true matriarchal
civilization. For I observed that, as in the ant colonies in this
world, the male workers were rooted to the soil, while the female of a
surpassing loveliness of gay colors and slender bodies had that gift of
soaring, which we fondly dream of for ourselves in an angelic state.
Presently I perceived an army of toiling ape-like laborers.
“What are these strange slave-like figures that are laboring on that
great pyramid?” I asked in wonder.
“Speaking in terms of ourselves, they are undoubtedly an arrested
development of ape or if you please, human beings. The pyramid you
speak of is undoubtedly a great telescopic emplacement, immeasurably
greater than any we have achieved. Now, look as we explore the country.
You will see any number of these pyramidical structures. Some are for
astronomical observations and others are for radio transmission.”
“We are then in communication with Neptune and Mars?”
“Oh, for fifty years, we have been signalling back and forth. When the
interstellar radiophone is an accomplished fact, as it is a proved
theory for radios, and has the speed of light, we may in a hundred or
five hundred years be able to receive messages that are passing us
every instant of our day.”
“Nothing surprises me any longer,” I said bravely. “But if you can
perceive each other, why cannot you communicate intelligently?”
“It is, of course, an insect language, and there is the difficulty.
When we shall have learned the basis of insect communication here, we
shall have taken a great step forward. We have already over a hundred
of our great scientists engaged in this study. It is possible that this
language is based on a musical vibration.”
“What other strange civilizations are in the wonders of your
firmament?” I asked eagerly.
“There are over a hundred known planets, where the great bird
civilizations flourish. If I had time, I could show you an example,
for in beauty of color and form, nothing excels them. There are worlds
where the feline or the canine is supreme and of course, backward
civilizations where huge mammals live in crude organizations.” Stella
stopped and gazed at me a moment. “Really, Bogardus, to see your
wonder and enthusiasm is like a tonic to one who like myself is daily
oppressed by the limitations we struggle against. If it seems to you
we have accomplished miracles since your day, why should we doubt
the genius that is imagination in woman, to conquer the seemingly
impossible?”
“Great heavens, what is there left!” I cried involuntarily.
“What is there left?” said Stella sadly. “What, rather, have we
accomplished? We can see, we may soon hear from planet to planet.
But what shall we see and hear? Civilizations, that were, but are no
longer. The thing that depresses us, is the tragically slow speed
of light. Will any force yet undreamed of be discovered that can
outdistance the beam that can only crawl through space at 184,000 miles
a second? Will it ever be possible with all our knowledge, to visit
other worlds, or must we remain eternally rooted here? And the problem
of life itself? What a stupefying mystery, akin to infinity! We know
that it can be prolonged immeasurably. Is the conquest of immortality
possible? Have other worlds solved it? And you stand amazed, Bogardus,
before the little veil we have lifted for you.”
The great scientist seemed to have forgotten our presence as she stood
immersed in the terrifying consideration of these mysteries.
Acquilla signed to me and we moved away, unnoticed.
“She may remain hours in her abstraction,” she whispered to me. “What a
mind! What an imagination!”
“Can we visit some of the observatories? I should like to see the great
telescope in operation.”
“We shall return often, though the daily records are available to
us at home. However, instead of visiting personally the different
plants, which would be fatiguing, we can see everything we wish from a
television hall.”
We entered a cabinet, similar to the one in which I had lunched with
Dianne at Acquilla’s house and installed ourselves. But at the first
interior of a great cupola with its cyclopian telescopic eye, I cried:
“But there is a man!”
“Of course. There are hundreds of them employed in the higher
mathematics and problems of intricate research.”
“A man!” I repeated sadly.
What I saw before me was a creature with a magnificent head it is true,
but the body of a frail child of eight or nine.
“I see what surprises you,” said Acquilla quickly. “But you must not
judge by appearances. Really, though it has taken us generations, we
have at last bred the true mathematical type. They have none of those
physical appetites or deviations, that afflict us, Bogardus. They are
intellectual Buddhas, the ascetic-saints of science. They live in their
visions, in a world of their own.”
“I prefer the slaves of the Neptunian insects,” I exclaimed
indignantly, “at least they could roam in the outer air. But these
deformed dwarfs are nothing but inhuman calculating machines.”
“Wait and see them in their monasteries,” said Acquilla, changing the
view.
I saw then hundreds of gnomes in a long, low building--a monastery
in fact; moving about the great esplanade gesticulating in animated
conversation, smoking pipes, playing chess or pitching quoits with all
the appearance, I must confess, of complete satisfaction.
“Do they look as though they were abused? Now honestly.”
“No--but I should like to assure myself of that by talking to them.”
“Quite impossible,” said Acquilla formally. “I should not dream of
intruding myself. As for you--you would bring nothing but disorder in
their well regulated existence.”
“They are indeed slaves,” I repeated bitterly.
“So am I, in a sense,” said Acquilla. “Are you going back to the
sentimentalities of the Declaration of Independence? Freedom? Nonsense!
We have bred them scientifically to accomplish intricate and necessary
things and skillfully atrophied the unnecessary glands, so that they
find their happiness in their work. To receive the work you are best
fitted for and to find your happiness in your work--if that is not
Paradise, what is, Bogardus?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“I dislike arguing with a woman,” I said.
“And I with you, Bogardus dear, if it makes you cross,” she said,
changing her tone immediately. “Now we must return, if we are to be in
time for the Promenade of the Young Males.”
I looked at her suspiciously.
“I perceive the devilish ingenuity of the contrast you are planning to
offer me.”
“Well, what of it--if it convinces you!”
I took my seat in our aeromat with a feeling of complete mental
exhaustion. One cannot experience such marvels as I had witnessed,
without a limp revulsion. We rose and streaked toward the south, I too
weary to resist, as Acquilla boldly put her arm about my waist and
drawing my head toward her, pillowed it on her firm shoulder.