THE MELODY OF FLOWERS AND ZARLAH.
My visitor appeared to be a young man of about twenty-five, tall,
handsome, broad-shouldered, and fair-complexioned, with that frank and
open countenance which claims the friendship of all men. Without a
moment's hesitation he stepped forward with outstretched hand and, in
the composite language of Mars, said:
"Good-evening, Almos. I am afraid this is an intrusion. I have
interrupted your studies, I know, but the fact is--"
"Not at all, my dear Reon!" I found myself replying. "I am glad to see
you at any time, and now, how can I be of service to you?"
Although I answered him in the composite language, and in a manner that
did not excite the slightest suspicion, I did so unconsciously. In
spite of the quandary in which I found myself upon coming face to face
with an inhabitant of Mars, I outwardly remained perfectly calm, nor did
it require any effort to appear so. The brain, in such an emergency,
followed instinctively its natural habit. It was as if another man had
spoken from within me, one who was perfectly acquainted with the visitor
and with Martian affairs. I found, however, when the surprise of the
first few moments had passed, that my mind could take control whenever
it exerted itself to do so. Thus I was able to say whatever I wished,
or, if necessity demanded, draw upon Almos' knowledge for information.
Replies came with the ease that Almos himself would have experienced in
answering questions, and I soon found that, with discretion, there was
no danger of my visitor suspecting the remarkable change of personality
in his friend.
I learned that Reon had come with a message from Sarraccus, one of Mars'
greatest scientists, who was about to give a demonstration of his latest
invention, a remarkable musical instrument called the lumaharp. A
recognized authority on anything of a scientific nature, Almos' counsel
was sought, and it was desired that he should be present at the recital
of this wonderful instrument.
Hastily ascertaining the time, I found that I had only two hours in
which it would be safe to remain on Mars. So interested had I been in my
observations of Earth, that the time had passed without my being aware
of the narrow margin I had left myself in which to see the planet. I,
however, informed my visitor that I would be ready to accompany him in a
few minutes, and with all haste, prepared myself for this new
undertaking.
I realized that once having left the observatory and stepped into a new
and strange world, many things might happen to prevent me returning
within two hours. But besides feeling that I was in duty bound to Almos
to attend this demonstration, I also felt that the risks I had taken
were too great to go unrewarded by even a glimpse into the life of this
wonderful planet. The future, too, held that element of uncertainty
which made me feel that I might pay dearly for the five hours spent in
another world. If the return current failed to do what was expected of
it, if I had erred in my calculation of the time I could remain on
Mars, or if my room had been broken into and my body moved, the results
would be disastrous.
I must attend this demonstration at any cost, but I would explain to my
host that it was most urgently necessary to return to the observatory
within two hours. I was now ready for the strange journey, and,
approaching my visitor, I said:
"And now, Reon, I will accompany you, but there is no time to be lost,
as an experiment I am conducting with one of these instruments demands
my attention in two hours."
I held back the portières as Reon passed out, and following him down a
short passage, we stepped out upon a wide balcony constructed of white
marble.
A wonderful sight met my astonished gaze. It was a summer evening, and
the dome of the heavens seemed ablaze with the light of myriads of
diamonds, so countless were the stars to be seen and so brilliant did
they appear in this rarefied atmosphere. Below me stretched out what
appeared to be a magnificent park, with white marble buildings scattered
here and there, while floating easily in the air were hundreds of small
canoe-like airships, containing the inhabitants of this fairyland,
reclining on cushions and enjoying sailing through the cool night air.
As the question of buoyancy of these remarkable airships arose in my
mind, I immediately became aware that they were sustained, in the air by
a metal which was used in their construction that was repellent to the
surface of Mars. It had been discovered by the Martians that their
planet, like a magnet, had both the power of attracting and repelling.
The north and south poles were found to be the repelling poles of this
immense magnetic sphere. Nothing could exist on these poles that was not
a fixture to the planet's surface, consequently no snow or ice existed
at the poles themselves. Many explorers' lives had been lost before this
discovery was made; those who succeeded in reaching the pole having made
the discovery too late to save themselves from being hurled off the
planet into space. But so small was the surface of this repelling pole
that it was argued that the pole must run through the center of the
planet, to make it equal in mass to the attracting force which covered
the rest of the surface.
Working on this theory, although it was impossible to reach the pole
itself without danger of being hurled off the planet, excavations were
made as near it as possible, and a tunnel was run under the surface
until the desired point was reached. A change from rock to ore was
encountered, with evidences of its having been subjected to intense
heat, and upon penetrating farther, pure metal was discovered. This
strange metal, unlike any other metal known to the Martians, was found
to possess a powerful repelling force. And when it was brought to the
surface, it was discovered that it not only retained its repelling
force, as a lodestone retains its attracting power, but that this same
force was greatly increased, doubtless owing to the close proximity of
an unfriendly element in the surface of the planet away from the pole.
The repelling force of this metal was found to be ten times as great as
the specific gravity of a piece of iron of relative proportions, and by
its use in the construction of airships, the problem of aerial
navigation on Mars had been solved.
Almos' knowledge of such matters made me instantly aware of all this the
moment the question of buoyancy presented itself in my mind, but,
although I could not help marveling at the ingenuity of this wonderful
people, I outwardly preserved the calm demeanor which Almos' strong
personality had made a characteristic. Indeed, Reon, who had been
preparing an aerenoid for our use--such was the Martian name for these
airships--was quite unaware of my astonishment, and it was plain that
with the exercise of due care, when I spoke without the prompting of
Almos' knowledge, there was no likelihood of anyone's having a suspicion
of my true personality.
The aerenoid in which we were going to make our journey differed in
appearance considerably from those which I saw floating about us.
Cigar-shaped, with windows in its sides and roof like a steamer's
portholes, it more nearly resembled a submarine boat than an airship, as
it rested on a platform built in the side of the balcony for the
purpose. Yet such was the repelling force of this wonderful metal which
the Martians had discovered, and which I found was attached in two or
more strips to the bottom of the aerenoids, that the matter of weight in
their construction was of little importance. While resting on the
ground these strips were encased in a material that was a non-conductor,
thus neutralizing the repelling force. In order to raise the car the
casing was merely drawn back by means of a controlling lever, until
enough of the metal was exposed to the surface of Mars to cause the
repelling force to lift the aerenoid, and by preserving this exposure,
any desired height could thus be attained.
The entire design of this aerenoid indicated that it was built to attain
great speed, and yet as I stepped into it through a door that closed
flush with the rounded sides, I was astonished at seeing no traces of
machinery. Instantly I became aware of the extraordinary means of
propulsion, however, and so simple, yet so effective, was it, that I
could not restrain a cry of admiration at this new evidence of
scientific progress.
Atmospheric pressure, instead of retarding speed, was employed to
produce it. Under the floor of the car and occupying the entire rear
half, was a chamber of steel, five or six feet broad at one end, and
tapering down with the sides of the aerenoid until it reached the stern,
where it ended in an opening one inch in diameter. By a chemical
process the air in the chamber was exhausted, instantly causing a
vacuum. Immediately the air outside the car rushed in through the small
opening at the rear end, with such great force as to cause a concussion
against the forward and broad end of the chamber, thus driving the
aerenoid ahead. So quick was this action that, when going at great
speed, more than one hundred exhaustions would occur in a minute. Simple
though this means of propulsion was, gravity having been overcome and
the long pointed body of the aerenoid offering little resistance, the
speed thus attained was remarkable.
Taking his position at the forward end, where a window in the top of the
car afforded a view ahead, Reon now moved a lever at his side and we
rose until clear of the observatory building. We then commenced to glide
along without either vibration or sound. Slowly we made our way through
the many small aerenoids that floated about us, and a soft light, coming
from a canopy containing the substance used to illuminate the
observatory, clearly revealed the occupants to me, as we passed close
by them. I now noticed that the women were wonderfully
beautiful--beauty that was possible only where sickness had been unknown
for hundreds of years.
Leaving this happy gathering, we passed over what appeared to be a river
about a mile broad, whose banks rose perpendicularly a hundred feet or
more from the water. These were illuminated with lights, placed every
hundred yards or so, giving it the appearance of a broad city street
stretching as far as the eye could see. At once it occurred to me that
this was one of the wonderful canals, visible even from Earth, and as we
passed over it I observed another canal, equal in proportions, running
parallel. Although both were on level ground, their waters were flowing
rapidly in different directions. What new wonder was this!
Into this second canal our aerenoid now turned, sinking slowly until
within thirty feet from the surface. Gradually our speed increased until
the lights along the banks formed one long unbroken line. One hundred
miles a minute we sped along, and yet without the least vibration or
sound. At such a speed it was possible to encircle Mars in seventy
minutes, almost, I thought, as rapidly as could Puck in "Midsummer
Night's Dream," who boasted of putting a girdle round the Earth in forty
minutes.
On we flew down the walled-in track, passing numerous other canals
equally as broad, flowing into it, until within ten minutes a faint gray
light appeared. It was daylight, and in a few moments sunlight crowned
the banks on either side of us. Even as I looked the sun itself
appeared, and in the space of fifty seconds it was high in the heavens.
In fifteen minutes we had covered almost a quarter of the globe, and now
it was the middle of the afternoon.
The importance of having speedways in which to confine aerenoids,
travelling at the terrific velocity of one hundred miles a minute, was
obvious, and what could be better adapted to the purpose than these
magnificent waterways, which completely cover the surface of the planet
with such geometrical exactness, that they have always been a source of
great wonder to astronomers on Earth. Thousands and thousands of years
old, the method of constructing this gigantic system of canals remains
enshrouded in the same mystery to the Martians, as that which surrounds
the building of the pyramids in Egypt.
I was now made aware of another valuable use to which the canals were
put, in fact a most important adjunct to the operation of an aerenoid.
The checking of such terrific speed would be impossible, were it not for
the water in these canals. We had covered several hundred miles without
propulsion, and our speed had not decreased perceptibly, when, moving a
lever at his side, Reon turned the aerenoid slightly downward. In an
instant we were plunging along the surface of the water, sending high
into the air great clouds of spray, which formed snow-white banks on
either side of the wake, and made a most remarkable picture. I now
realized why this high-speed aerenoid resembled a submarine boat in
appearance.
Gradually our speed was reduced until, moving at not more than a mile a
minute, we gently left the surface of the water and proceeded down
several branch canals. At last we slowly rose above the top of the canal
banks. Higher and higher we ascended until we were about a thousand
feet in the air, and then proceeded at a greatly reduced speed.
A veritable fairyland lay beneath us. Stretching as far as the eye could
reach lay a landscape of pink and green, dotted with white marble
buildings of magnificent architecture. Narrow paths, shaded by trees,
could be seen winding in and out over rustic bridges and beside
sparkling brooks. But nowhere did there appear either cities or
towns--not even a road was there to indicate a volume of traffic in any
particular direction.
No small aerenoids were to be seen floating about, and as the air in our
car was now very close, I realized that in consequence of the light
atmosphere of Mars, the sun's direct rays gave great heat. It was
evidently the custom for Martians to remain as much as possible under
cover in the daytime.
Opening the door of the aerenoid to obtain a fresh supply of air, I was
at once struck with the remarkable appearance of the sky, which was
intensely blue in color, but of such a dark shade as to appear almost
black. It presented all the appearance of night, so many stars were
visible and so brightly did they shine, while the sun blazed forth with
such brilliancy from the surrounding blackness, that it was impossible
to look westward without shading the eyes. I now appreciated the
enormous advantage of having an atmosphere as dense as Earth's, which
diffused the light to a much more comfortable extent. But the appearance
of the Martian sky was magnificent, and I stood lost in admiration
until, with a hardly perceptible shock, I discovered that we had come to
rest upon a ledge which projected from the circular balcony of a most
palatial building.
Jumping out, I moored the aerenoid by means of ropes that were attached
to the balcony for that purpose. I was aware that this was my duty upon
landing, and when I had made everything secure, Reon left his place at
the levers and joined me.
There were numerous other aerenoids moored to the balcony, some of the
high-speed class similar to ours, and a few of the lighter class
resembling rowboats. The balcony was entirely deserted, however, and it
was evident that all were inside listening to the recital of the
lumaharp.
As we proceeded across the broad balcony, I was astonished to discover
that the outside walls of this building were entirely covered with
beautifully carved reliefs, representing the inventions of Sarraccus.
Had it been daylight at the observatory, I would have noticed that it,
too, was decorated with the wonders of other worlds discovered by Almos.
The mountains on Earth, the seas, clouds, volcanoes, and ships; these
and many other objects that do not exist on Mars, were carved with
remarkable faithfulness upon the walls of the observatory, and were
looked upon by Martians as the wonders of a strange world.
As at the observatory, the doorway was hung with heavy portières, and,
passing through these, we found ourselves in what appeared to be an
immense palm garden, in which Martians were to be seen sitting in
groups, or walking about admiring the plants and flowers. Sunlight
streamed in through the roof, the covering of which had been rolled
back, and I became aware that it was in such places as this that the
Martians were to be found during the heat of the day.
Rain being unknown, it was necessary to grow the more delicate plants
where they might be watered regularly and sheltered from the heat of the
midday sun, and also from the hot winds that often came at this season.
I now realized that the trees that I had noticed were to be found only
upon the banks of streams and lakes, and that, with the exception of the
green these afforded, Mars was entirely covered with a small and hardy
pink flower of the antennaria family, which flourishes in a dry and
sandy soil.
Reon now left me, promising to return within an hour, in order that I
might reach the observatory in due time. As I walked slowly among the
tall palms, taking a path here and there at random and admiring the
beautiful beds of flowers, some of which I recognized as flowers also
indigenous to Earth, I noticed that all whom I met greeted me in the
most cordial way, some pausing to say a few words. I saw the importance
of saying whatever was prompted by the first appearance of the
individual, and I found that I could thus join in a most enjoyable
conversation with these charming people, with a knowledge of their names
and the matters of interest to them. All were very enthusiastic about
the lumaharp, and I anxiously awaited another number upon this wonderful
instrument.
As the paths I turned down were all strange to me, I judged that Almos
was not familiar with the interior of this particular building, but as
there were many gardens nearer the observatory, he would have no reason
to visit this one, except on an occasion of this kind.
Not realizing the enormous size of the building, I had wandered far from
the entrance at which I was to meet Reon, and had decided to ask to be
directed back, when suddenly I stopped, rooted to the ground, every
nerve straining to catch a faint melodious sound that seemed to fill the
air. No music on Earth could equal it! Before me arose a vision of
beautiful flowers--flowers that had thoughts as beautiful as themselves,
and that through the genius of a man poured forth their souls in a
volume of melody, so beautiful as to beggar description.
As Almos was perfectly familiar with this remarkable invention, a
gradual comprehension of the wonderful genius of Sarraccus, its
inventor, came to me. Tall, calm, and of dignified bearing; a man of
great learning, but of few words; Sarraccus had won the love and
admiration of all by his discovery of the regenerating rays that had
given the people of Mars perpetual life and health. He it was who had
discovered super-radium, and this wonderful power had, in time, been
used by others until many important inventions had developed from it,
such as the virator, the radioscope, the radiphone, illumination without
expenditure of power or material, and several minor inventions, all of
which, however, contributed greatly to the comfort and advancement of
this great people.
The aerenoid, one of his most important inventions, had made it possible
to reach any part of the globe within an hour, and this, coming at the
time of the great change in the social conditions on Mars, had expedited
the movement to a wonderful extent by bringing the inhabitants of every
quarter of the globe into daily contact with one another. So easy and
rapid was this means of transit through the air, that cities and towns
were soon abolished, and in the process of time, Mars attained the
ideal, and became a World Beautiful--the magnificent estate of one large
family.
And now Sarraccus had given the flowers a voice to sing of their
beauty. In the mind of this great genius was conceived the idea that
inasmuch as there is ineffable beauty to the eye in the soft colors and
shades of a flower--beauty too rare for the hand of man to
reproduce--there must also be a corresponding sweetness of sound or
vibration, if it were possible to transform its beauty into sound.
Light-waves, he reasoned, varying according to the color and shade of
the object, might be changed into sound-waves, if an instrument were
made sensitive enough to vibrate in response to these extremely delicate
undulations of light. The vibrations would then vary in accordance with
the light-waves, and a harmony of sound, corresponding in sweetness to
the beauty of the flower, would result.
After many unsuccessful trials, Sarraccus found a material that, in the
form of a fine wire, twenty or thirty feet in length, vibrated in
response to light of a certain color, as a wire in a piano or harp will
often be attuned sympathetically to a certain note in the human voice,
and will vibrate whenever that note is reached. The vibrations of this
wire in response to light, however, were almost imperceptible, and it
was only upon testing with a highly sensitive instrument that they were
discovered. Several wires were then made of different thickness, and
each was found to have a sympathetic vibration to a light of a certain
color. The quantity of wires was then increased to represent every
possible shade of color, and when these were stretched between two large
drums, a faint sound was detected. The drums were then enclosed in
chambers that led into large horns, and thus the sounds caused by the
delicate vibrations of the wires, though as soft as the sighing of the
wind, were diffused and augmented so as to reach into every corner of
the large building. Enclosed in a dark room, the wires occupied the
position of a plate in a camera, a large lens being adjusted in the wall
opposite them.
The image of a flower, illuminated by the sun's light, was now thrown
upon the wires, and a marvelous melody of sound resulted. Each delicate
shade of color in the flower found a sympathetic wire which vibrated in
response to it, and the harmony produced by all in chorus was the
ineffably sweet song of Nature. As Nature expressed its dreams of
beauty in flowers, which in their simplicity and radiance defy the hand
of man to equal, so did the melody of these flowers far surpass anything
that the ear of man had ever before heard. Did not the lilies of the
field receive the tribute of Christ? What wonderfully effective yet
simple truth would not He have heard in this surpassing melody? As
different flowers were placed before the instrument, so would the music
change; often sad and appealing as a whispered prayer, it would change
again to a joyous triumphal chorus, full of the gladness of life and
beauty.
For a moment I stood spellbound, then by some irresistible, mystic power
I was drawn to it; and eagerly seeking the paths that led in the
direction of the sound, I became aware that as I gradually understood
and sympathized with this compelling cry of Nature, so the melody seemed
to become my every hope. Ambition, love, aspiration, and passion surged
through that grand symphony. It was heard and understood by the soul, as
other music ministers to the ear, and as I eagerly listened I was
sensible of a yearning for a love--a love that was soon forgotten, and I
knew it to be mine. In the wonders of this new world I had forgotten
the love that, while on Earth, I had been ready to risk my life for, and
now it was the eleventh hour, and who could say whether I should ever
return to this paradise?
Seeing a little rustic arbor, and being overcome with the excess of
emotion and beauty, I turned my steps thither to rest and think.
Situated in a shaded corner of the building, the interior of the arbor
was almost in darkness, and I felt that here I would be alone and
unobserved. Every instant I grew more sad at heart over the time which I
now felt had been wasted, and as the melody died away, my head sank on
my arms, as I rested them upon the table before me. My Earth-tuned soul
seemed still to linger under the spell of the enchanted music.
I had remained thus but a few moments when I became conscious of a hand
softly laid upon my shoulder, and a voice, as sweet and gentle as the
melody that had just died away, murmured, "Almos, poor Almos!"
The touch had a healing in it and was as gentle as the fall of snow.
Raising my head I started up, giving utterance to the name that
instinctively came to my lips--"Zarlah!" It was as if another man had
spoken the name while I stood entranced with the small soft hand held a
prisoner in both mine, gazing down upon the beautiful being whose image
I had so often seen pictured in my mind. It was Zarlah!
I knew, now, that this beauteous image had not been an hallucination,
and by what miracle it had all happened I cared not. Enough that this
beautiful, radiant woman actually existed, and in one quick bound of the
heart, I realized my all-consuming, deathless love for her.
What I might have indiscreetly said in the great emotions of those first
moments, I know not, but before I could give utterance to further words,
Almos' calm demeanor had asserted itself, and in a voice that gave no
evidence of how I was torn within, I said:
"How is it, Zarlah, that you find time from your studies to linger
here?"
"My studies have brought me here," she answered, gently withdrawing her
hand and rising as if to go. Then quickly lifting her shining eyes to
mine, in a playfully reproachful tone, she said, "And have you no
experiments at the observatory that demand your attention that you can
afford to linger here, Almos?"
How beautiful she looked as she stood before me thus! Surely I could not
hope for a better time than now to tell her all that was in my heart.
There was uncertainty in the future--perhaps I would never again be
given the opportunity to speak that with which my soul burned.
Placing a hand lightly on her shoulder and looking down into her
wonderful eyes, I said tenderly, "The reason I have lingered here,
Zarlah, was to think of you."
A tremor of her slight form was the only response I received for some
seconds that seemed hours to me, then, with her eyes turned away so I
could not read in them my fate, she murmured, "Did you not come to hear
the wonderful instrument by which Sarraccus gives the flowers a voice?"
"I did," I answered passionately, "and its sweet melody whispered only
of you--the radiant rose of the spheres. It told me of the yearning in
my heart--it sang of your great beauty, and of my unspeakable love for
you, and sobbed at the time I have wasted, a fortune of golden moments;
then, as it died away, it led me to you. Is not this melody of flowers
direct from God's own hand, Zarlah? It must then be decreed by Him that
I should love you, for being truth itself, it can appeal only to the
truth that is within the soul."
I drew her unresisting form toward me, and, gently pushing back the
waves of soft brown hair, I tenderly kissed the beautiful face, radiant
with the light of love. A thought of fabled beauties of Earth passed
before me. Could any of them compare with my Martian love? Would not the
face of Helen--that which "launched a thousand ships" at Troy--have
paled into insignificance beside it?
For some moments we remained thus, neither of us caring to break that
sacred silence which to lovers means infinitely more than words. The joy
of feeling that my love was returned, and that she whom I held in my
arms was mine, made me forget all else, until, with a little sob, Zarlah
whispered:
"Dearest, in our great happiness, we must not forget the duties that
have been confided to us. You must return to the observatory at once.
Come, and I will accompany you to where Reon waits."
The truth of Zarlah's words flashed upon me, and with it a full
realization of the terrible mistake I had made. In the eyes of Zarlah I
was a Martian, her life-long friend, Almos, and her anxiety for me to
return to the observatory was the prompting of her Martian sense of
duty--her sole creed. In what words could I ever hope to explain that I
was not Almos, when the voice, the manners, the features, and even the
knowledge of her affairs were those of her intimate friend? And even if
it were possible to make Zarlah believe in the remarkable change of
personality, by explaining in full the weird and uncanny details of how
the change was effected, what happiness could I hope to derive from it;
it was Almos she loved, not a strange spirit of whom she could know
nothing--a spirit even from an alien world.
Such were the thoughts that filled my mind, as I walked beside Zarlah
through this more than Edenic garden toward the entrance where Reon was
to wait for me. But, although utterly crushed by the realization of my
own hopeless case, I felt that the knowledge of Zarlah's love, of which
I had so wrongly come into possession, had imposed upon me a sacred
duty. I therefore gave no outward evidence of my emotions, though my
cup of happiness was now changed to one of sorrow and bitterness, and
when Zarlah proposed that we should meet the following evening, I
quickly assented with all a lover's eagerness.
We had now reached the entrance and, as we stepped out on the balcony, I
saw Reon waiting for me with the aerenoid in readiness. Seeing a merry
party in a large open aerenoid, and knowing them to be Zarlah's friends,
I would have escorted her to them, but in a low tone she earnestly
besought me to lose no time in reaching the observatory.
A few words of farewell--a slight pressure of hands, and we parted; and
as I walked over to where Reon stood, ready for the journey, I could not
help marveling at the great sacredness in which all duties are held in
the eyes of the Martians; duties, too, that have no other reward than
their own fulfillment. A feeling of shame came over me as I thought of
the endless struggle, selfishness, and crime of another world that is a
slave to Gold.