When I awoke, the girl was sitting beside me. Her soft fingers had been
stroking my hair; it was their touch which awakened me. As I moved and
opened my eyes, she instantly withdrew beyond my reach.
I was hungry and when I motioned to her and indicated the food, she
seemed to understand. I sat quite still, and within a few minutes she
was deftly preparing a meal. But I was aware that she watched me
narrowly and seldom came within my reach.
The fire she produced by rubbing two stones together. It seemed to
ignite the stones, with a tiny flickering flame like the burning of
sulphur. She had gathered a pile of dried vegetation from the surface
above the cave; and when that was blazing she added rocks that glowed
like coal. The fire interested me tremendously. It alarmed me; but only
at first, for I saw that the girl had no fear of it.
I need not go into details. Her manner was proud when presently she
indicated the hot food ready to eat and she watched me expectantly while
I tasted it. I smiled my approval and beckoned her to take some of it
with me. At which she curled up on the robe beside me, eating the food I
pushed toward her.
We were friends. Like myself, she had no spoken language. But when we
tried to talk it came fast. I indicated myself and told her I was Nemo.
The word seemed to spring readily to my mind; I have no doubt it was
some part of my earlier life. She had no name. I called her Nona. It
seemed to please her. She repeated it after me half a dozen times, and
clapped her hands delightedly.
A little later we went up to the surface of our tiny world. It chanced
to be daylight; and Nona taught me how to swim through the air, how to
handle myself against this lack of gravity.
The art came to me quickly. I was soon able to swim about with swift,
powerful strokes. My stronger muscles gave me an advantage over her. I
could swim more quickly; but I could never attain her deftness, her
agility. She would swoop about, dive head downward in a graceful arc,
right herself and land on tip-toe.
We circled our little globe, swimming at an altitude of a hundred feet,
and following the Sun; and within half an hour were back at our starting
point. Everywhere I saw the same bleak landscape. It was night when we
returned, for we had overtaken the Sun and passed it. But in a few
moments daylight came again.
Then Nona showed me how to jump. With arms folded, she leaped vertically
into the air. Straight up her body shot, her hair brushed flat against
her by the downward rush of wind. She held herself upright by throwing
out a hand occasionally. Like an arrow she mounted; until standing on
the ground I could see her only as a tiny dark speck against the blue of
the sky.
She came swimming down a few moments later, her hair waving like a cloak
behind her, spun gold with the sunlight on it. She was laughing and
flushed from the exertion.
Then at arm’s length with fingers clasped, we leaped upward together.
The tiny world dropped away. Looking down, it showed itself as a ball. I
could see far around it.
We seemed to mount endlessly. The air grew so rare I gasped for breath.
My head was roaring. I was cold. Below, I could see the spherical meteor
turning under us. We were in Space, no longer a part of our world. And
we had almost reached the limit of its atmosphere.
Nona’s fingers clutched mine tightly. Suddenly she twisted me downward
and dropped me. A strong side wind had sprung up. We swam down against
it, fighting our way until we at last were back to the meteor’s surface.
I was tired, for through my clumsiness I had used far more energy than
Nona; but I would not let her see it. I saw her look upon the muscles of
my arms and shoulders, and her admiration pleased me. I stretched my
arms for her, showed her the muscles of my legs; and looked about for
some way of displaying my prowess. There were many boulders around that
could be loosened. One by one I flung them into the air, sent them into
Space never to return.
* * * * *
Nona watched me with awe, encouraging me with little syllables of
pleasure as I selected larger and larger rocks. Some I dug up and tore
loose, until at last I ripped off the top and side of a hill. It was a
mountain of rock. I staggered like Atlas, with it over my head, and then
launched it into the air. It rose a short distance, and fell back to
form another hill.
Nona gazed at me with new respect and with a look in her eyes that made
my heart pound. I was casting about for some larger burden, but she drew
me away.
I was pleased. A sense of my own power filled me. I was master here on
this world of mine. I could have taken it apart bit by bit and tossed it
into Space. I could tear down mountains, build others in their stead.
[Illustration: “_With my slight weight, I could lift huge masses of
stone._”]
Facts and figures? I am in a position now to give them to you. My meteor
had a diameter of five miles, a circumference of some fifteen. Its
density relative to Earth was .67. Its surface gravity—again relative
to your Earth—was .00039, placing Earth as 1.00. My weight at the
surface of my meteor—neglecting other factors which I shall name in a
moment—was slightly over one ounce.
Without undue exertion I could leap upward nearly ten thousand
feet—that is to say, almost two miles. And the mountain of rock I
tossed into the air on your Earth would have weighed some 320,000
pounds!
I have said that the boulders I tossed upward left the surface of the
meteor never to return. At an initial velocity of 13 feet a second, all
objects became satellites of the meteor, revolving about it
comparatively close to the surface in perfect circles. The velocity of
escape was but 18½ feet a second, i. e., that velocity which would cause
an object to pass into outer Space, moving onward until it found some
larger body to encircle.
I give these figures without corrections for atmosphere, axial rotation
of the meteor, or the attraction of other bodies. Theoretically they are
accurate, though in practice they were altered somewhat. During our
brief days we weighed more than I have stated; while at night, less.
Indeed, had we essayed a jump into the air at night, we should doubtless
have been unable to struggle our way back.
How can that be, you ask? Our proximity to Saturn! Around this great
planet we were revolving at a distance of no more than thirty-five
thousand miles. Saturn’s surface gravity is a trifle greater than that
of your earth—1.07 to be exact. Saturn’s density is only one-ninth that
of the Earth; but the difference is made up because of its tremendous
size. Saturn’s gravity—to us on the meteor—was an appreciable pull,
even though diminished by the distance between us, and further offset by
the meteor’s rapid rotation.
Thus, you see, when Saturn was below us—in daytime—its gravity was
added to ours. But at night, when it was in the sky above, it was
subtracted.
These conditions applied to the days I am describing. Our meteor was
then between Saturn and the Sun. Later in our year, when we had passed
around Saturn, the Sun was blotted out. There was then no
daylight—merely alternate periods of a sky filled with Saturn’s silver
disk and the azure, star-filled outer Space.
I have not mentioned the time of our meteor’s axial rotation. It was, as
you on Earth measure time, 2 hours, 58 minutes. A complete day and night
in less than three hours!
When I had finished showing Nona my strength, it was night again. And
such a night! Saturn no more than thirty-five thousand miles away! The
darkened bands were plainly visible. When fully overhead, the circular
limb of the planet came down in all directions almost to our horizon.
The silver light from it was dazzling. And everywhere in the sky,
meteors like ourselves were whirling past—silver in Space, flaming red
when fragments of them struck our atmosphere.
Occasionally a meteorite would strike our surface, but we had no fear of
them. For an hour perhaps, we stood together, silent, gazing with awe at
these mysteries of the sky. Until at last Nona gently drew me back to
her cave.