THE VOICE FROM ANOTHER WORLD
This thought of communicating with the Martian by writing, did not deter
me from using every effort to perfect my instrument, so that this might
be done verbally, or that at least I might hear a voice and a language
spoken on a world millions of miles away. Accordingly I gave the subject
of sound-waves my best thought, and the next morning I had formulated
clearly laid principles upon which to work. By these I hoped to make an
instrument that would be the means of conversing with a Martian.
I had come to the conclusion that the jumble of sound was caused by the
prolonged vibration of the wires after each distinct wave from Mars was
received, as the wires of a piano will vibrate long after they have been
touched. With light-waves it was necessary to have a highly sensitive
surface of the composition, capable of responding to many different
vibrations, according to the light or shade of the object projected.
This accounted for the success I met with upon adopting the coated
wires, and I concluded thereupon that they were indispensable. But I now
saw that the presence of wires in the composition, though successful
with light-waves, was inimical to sound-waves, and it became evident
that a firmer but highly sensitive surface was required. The film had
not brought good results, either from sound-waves or light-waves, but,
it will be remembered, there were wires running through it to give it
rigidity, which, although necessary in my original experiments, must be
avoided in connection with sound vibrations. Clearly my new film must
not be rigid. I thereupon made a film of composition, as thin as
possible, and stretched it upon the frame of my instrument, as a
diaphragm behind the wires, hoping that the sound-waves would pass
between the wires, and vibrate the diaphragm, which, being made of
composition, would undoubtedly glow, but not more than the film had
done. This, I concluded, would not interfere with the image on the
wires, owing to the brilliancy of the latter.
I was now hopeful of success, and anxiously waited for the day to close.
Everything was in readiness by noon, and I had at least eight hours to
wait before Mars would be in a position for wave contact. But now
appeared an adversary with which I had not reckoned. Clouds began to
gather, thin and fleecy at first, but growing heavier as the afternoon
passed, until by evening the heavens were completely obscured. This was
a condition that might last for several days, and the dread of it filled
me with despair. How could I wait for days inactive, without seeing or
even hearing from my friend in Mars?
It now occurred to me how absolutely absorbed I had become in the
Martian investigation. Ordinarily a sociable person, in the past week I
had become a recluse. College friends that I had seen almost daily since
my return to Paris, I now completely neglected, even shunned, lest they
should call at my rooms some evening when I was in wave contact with
Mars. It also occurred to me that, as surely as my friendship and
necessity for them was declining, in like ratio was increasing an
attachment for an inhabitant of another world. I felt a strange soul
kinship for this Martian, which seemed to spring up the moment I saw his
image portrayed on my instrument. And the feeling was not one of
ordinary friendship. I felt I was drawn to him by some mysterious power,
that gave him the place of a brother in my affections--a power that
seemed to have brought us together, and now united us with a great
common and compelling interest. And yet as I pictured his handsome,
almost beautiful face, there was still another face I had seen--but
where? The Martian had been alone, yet I was conscious of a face that
was wonderfully beautiful, that seemed the goal for which I was
striving. It led me to greater effort after failure; the face which I
yearned to see and yet strangely dreaded seeing.
It was useless for me to try to understand such thoughts, and to banish
them from my mind was impossible. I was overcome with a sense of
loneliness. Looking at my watch, I found that it was already past the
hour when Mars would be visible through the window on a clear night,
but, alas, the sky showed no signs of clearing; though my instrument
stood ready, it was useless.
But, obeying some irresistible impulse, I decided to turn on the current
and stand by the instrument in case an opening in the clouds should
occur, for even a moment. I therefore turned the switch that controlled
the current, and immediately, to my astonishment, the surface of wires
became as brilliant as on the previous evening under a clear sky.
Turning away for a moment, to allow my eyes to become accustomed to the
brilliancy, I noticed that the sky was still overcast with heavy rain
clouds. My joy at the discovery that the Martian projecting agent was
not arrested by vapor was unbounded, for it meant that I could be in
wave-contact with Mars every night, during the period that the planet
was visible from Earth.
I approached the instrument with the intention of at once testing the
diaphragm, but, to my surprise, my Martian friend was not there to greet
me. The room and its furnishings, however, were depicted as clearly as
before, and I now had an opportunity to note the instruments, the large
volumes of books, and the maps of the heavens which hung on the wall.
Everything pointed to this being a fully equipped Martian observatory,
though the instruments were entirely strange to me. I was examining
these latter more closely, when heavy portières parted, and my Martian
friend stepped into the room. So anxious was I to give him a pleasant
greeting, instead of staring at him in a semi-stupefied condition, as I
had done previously, that I forgot, for the moment, my determination to
test my diaphragm at the first opportunity, and greeted him merely with
a smile and a bow.
My serene demeanor lasted but a moment, for simultaneously with his
bowed response to my greeting, came in a clear voice, with perfect
accent: "Bon soir, Monsieur!"
I started back, for it seemed as if someone in the room had spoken, but
then I noticed that the Martian held in his hand the instrument I had
seen on the previous evening. Was it possible that this was his voice,
speaking French from a distance of millions of miles as clearly as if he
were in the room? The thing was incredible! How could a Martian know a
language evolved here on Earth? Was the whole thing then a delusion of
an overwrought mind? I stood staring at the instrument in amazement.
The Martian, now seeing by my actions that his voice had been heard,
raised his instrument and repeated his greeting. The voice rang as
clearly as before; there could be no further doubt; through this
wonderful instrument the Martian's voice was projected, almost
instantaneously to the Earth--millions of miles in a second. The
mysterious power which enabled the Martian to project the waves,
compared with our electricity as the telegraph does with the
stage-coach. Was it strange that I stood aghast, as my mind slowly
comprehended the enormous distance which that voice had traversed almost
instantaneously?
It was some moments before my amazement permitted me to respond to this
extraordinary salutation, then--my mind still too bewildered properly to
grasp the situation--I mumbled something in English about my great
astonishment at hearing a language of Earth spoken from a distant world.
The sound of my voice seemed to cause the Martian some surprise, but
immediately his voice issued again in clear tones from the instrument.
"I greeted you in what I supposed was your native tongue," he said in
perfect English. "Although now we have but one composite language here,
over a thousand years ago we spoke in many languages, as the people of
your planet do at the present time.
"For more than six hundred years we have been able to observe the
progress of your planet," he went on, "through an instrument by which
light-waves are projected and received, and have found it to be
identical with ours of almost fifteen hundred years ago. By the placards
in the streets of your cities and towns, we discovered that you also
spoke in many tongues, and although the progress was necessarily slow,
our astronomers were, by this means, able to learn the principal
languages of Earth.
"Anxiously we have watched and waited for the discovery of an instrument
that would respond to our projected light-waves and reveal to you the
inhabitants of your neighboring planet. At last this momentous time has
arrived. I congratulate you upon bringing it about."
As he spoke, his voice, coming from the diaphragm of my instrument,
sounded as distinct as if he were in the room, and his image, depicted
life-size, made it hard to believe that he was more than a few feet
away. That my informant was, in reality, millions of miles away, my mind
absolutely refused to grasp.
A thousand questions to put to my Martian acquaintance rushed into my
mind, but alas, in supposing that I could not come in contact with Mars
on account of cloud obscurity, I had lost much of the precious time, and
now the waning light on my instrument warned me that the planet would,
in a few moments, pass out of range. We therefore hastily bade each
other adieu, promising to continue our conversation on the morrow, as
though we had parted at a street corner. The light now faded completely,
and the instrument, that a few moments previously had been animated with
such an exuberance of life and mystery, now stood before me wrapped in
profound darkness and silence.
How impossible, how inconceivable it all seemed! How the outside world
would scoff if I attempted to explain or publish my discovery! I felt
that the time had not yet come to take anyone into my confidence, and I
determined still to keep all a secret. I was then unaware, however, that
the more I learned of Mars and its people the more closely I would guard
my knowledge.
Pacing excitedly up and down my laboratory, I spent most of the night in
reviewing what I had heard, and speculating the rare knowledge that the
morrow would bring. The secrets of another world would be unfolded to
me, and the scientific achievements of a people over a thousand years in
advance of us would be mine. What glorious possibilities this disclosed!
What a brilliant future as a scientist such knowledge would assure me!
And in the exuberance of my spirits I little thought that the possession
of this knowledge would come to mean naught to me; for I had yet to
learn that man cannot share the riches of another world without also
becoming a partner in its sorrows and its passions.