Golden Age of Science Fiction Vol IX

by Various

  As he reached the doorway M'Allister--as truehearted a Scot as ever his country produced--turned towards me, and with upraised hand, glistening eyes, and lips quivering, exclaimed, "Mon, you are doing the right thing, but I never thought I would feel a parting with an old friend so much as I do this! God bless you, Professor!"

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  LAST WORDS TO MY READERS

  As I have decided to stay here upon Mars, and have just taken leave of my two dear old friends, I will now address a few last words to those who may read this record of our trip to Mars, and then seal up the packet ready for John to take with him.

  In the course of my conversations with Merna's tutors, I learnt much about the past history of the Martian people; and they told me that it dates back to such a remote antiquity that, as compared with theirs, ours is only the history of an infancy!

  Mars, being a much smaller globe than the earth, cooled down and became habitable æons before the earth reached that stage; and at the time when the earlier inhabitants of our world were living in woods and caves--slowly and painfully fashioning for themselves weapons and tools out of chipped flint-stones--there existed upon Mars a people who had then arrived at a full and vigorous civilisation.

  What wonder then that, with all these past ages of development and the incentive which the present physical condition of the planet supplies them, the Martians of the present day are in all respects, whether physically, morally, or intellectually, far in advance of the inhabitants of our much younger, and therefore less developed, world!

  The lessons to be learned from this, and from the physical conditions now prevailing on the planet, are very similar.

  Mars, gradually, but inevitably, becoming a vast desert, and with the end of all things certain to arrive in a comparatively near future, pictures to us what must as inevitably be the fate of our own world ages hence, unless it come to an untimely end by some catastrophe.

  As Professor Lowell has pointed out, we know we have an abundant supply of water at the present time, but we also know that, ages ago, the area of our world covered with water was immensely greater than it is now. From the very beginning of our world's existence the process of diminution of the water area has always gone on, and it will still go on--slowly, surely, and continually.

  As an inevitable result of this decrease of water, and other natural conditions, vast areas of land on both sides of our tropical zones have become deserts; and it is a scientific certainty that this process of desertism will, and must continue, until it covers the whole world.

  But, I think, the end will long be delayed, for the loss by desertism will, as it seems to me, for ages be compensated by the new and habitable land arising from areas now covered by water. The old sea-beds upon Mars are now the most fertile areas upon that planet.

  As the desertism increases conditions similar to those of Mars will arise; the earth will become more level, polar glaciation will cease, the atmosphere become thinner, and water vapour, instead of falling as rain, will be carried by circulatory currents to the poles, and there be deposited as snow. What the Martians have accomplished has shown us how to stave off the water difficulty, and also how a highly civilised and intelligent people can bravely and calmly face the end which they clearly foresee!

  This is the lesson from the present physical condition of Mars.

  On the other hand, the continual progress of civilisation upon Mars, and the very high development attained there, coupled with what we know of our own progress during the ages past, give certainty to the hope that our own civilisation will continue to develop, slowly indeed, but surely; and also to the belief that, compared to what it will be in the future, our present stage of civilisation is merely savagery.

  Development will lead to progress in everything which tends to increase the intelligence, wisdom, and happiness of the whole human race.

  Our world has seen the rise and fall of many civilisations, but fresh ones have risen, phoenix-like, from the ashes of those which have departed and been forgotten. "The individual withers," but "the world is more and more." As it was in the past, so will it be in the future--ever-changing, ever-passing, but ever-renewing, until the final stage is reached.

  Since the earliest dawn of our creation the watchword of humanity has been "Onward!" and it is still "Onward!" but also "Upward!!" The possibilities of the development of the human race in the ages yet to come are so vast as to be beyond our conception; for, as Sir Oliver Lodge has remarked, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the mind of man to conceive what the future has in store for humanity!" Then:

  "Forward, forward, let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change!"

  This, then, is the great lesson which Martian civilisation teaches us. Surely it affords no reason for the depression and pessimism in which some upon the earth are so prone to indulge; but rather should it stir them to a more earnest endeavour, by gradually removing the obstacles which now bar their progress, to improve the social conditions of the people; so that they in their turn may improve their intellectual conditions, and lend their aid to the general advancement of the world they live in.

  Gloom, depression, and pessimism, of which we have had more than enough of late years, never yet helped any one. They have, however, proved disastrous to many.

  Remember our world is young yet! so set before yourselves the great ideal of the brotherhood of humanity! Our religion teaches it; strive to help in attaining it; and in so doing each may, and will, achieve something to help forward the gradual evolution of a brighter and happier world for the generations that are to come. In that brighter and happier world I have faith, for:

  "I hold it truth with him who sings, To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things."

  And:

  "I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the suns."

  [End of the Narrative written by Wilfrid Poynders, Esq.]

  CHAPTER XXIX

  WHAT HAPPENED UPON OUR RETURN HOME--RESULTS OF THE MOST RECENT OBSERVATIONS OF MARS--PROFESSOR LOWELL'S IMPORTANT DISCOVERY

  ADDENDUM

  (Written by John Yiewsley Claxton, Esq., of Norbury, in the County Borough of Croydon, Surrey)

  In accordance with the desire of my old friend, Wilfrid Poynders, I am now about to publish the book which was handed to me by Merna on the morning of our departure from Mars.

  I knew that my dear old friend's thoughts and aspirations ever soared towards the skies; but, as his last testament shows, his sympathies embraced all humanity, and I am somewhat reluctant to add anything which must necessarily bring the subject down to a lower plane.

  As a narrative of his own personal experiences in connection with our trip to Mars, the Professor's work is quite complete; still I thought his readers would wish to know how it fared with his colleagues after they left Mars, and have accordingly appended a few pages furnishing this information.

  I am quite convinced that, in deciding to remain behind on the planet, the Professor, as M'Allister remarked, "did the right thing"; but after the many years we have spent together in the closest and truest friendship, I miss him--ah, more than I can say.

  It was really a tremendous wrench, that parting with my two old friends, the Professor and Merna, and leaving them behind on Mars, although I fully appreciated the Professor's desire to end his days with his dear son, to whom he had been so strangely reunited.

  We started that morning directly after our farewell, and found a large concourse of people assembled, who had come from all parts of the planet to see us off.

  Soranho and many other high officers of state whom we knew were present, and, of course, the Professor, Merna, Eleeta, and Siloni, as well as many others whom we had come to regard as personal friends; and they did not allow us to depart empty-handed.

  Merna handed me the packet which the Profes
sor had referred to. We had no formal farewell with the Professor--that was all over; but he came forward at the last moment, and we parted from him with a loving hand-clasp.

  After a most affectionate leave-taking with our other friends, with whom I took good care to include Siloni, we boarded the Areonal. M'Allister at once took charge of the machinery, switched on the power, and we immediately rose into the air, amidst shouts of farewell and repeated good wishes from the assembled multitude.

  We rose rapidly; but, so long as we kept in view of the place, we could see the people still waving their adieus to us, and I frequently responded to their signals.

  At last, when these lovable and hospitable Martians were lost to sight, I went into the Areonal, closing and bolting the outer door, which was never again to be opened until we reached our destination--our home in old England.

  I have no doubt that, long after we lost sight of them, many of the Martians kept the Areonal in view with their telescopes, and followed its course far into space.

  I then directed M'Allister to set our course for our own world; and when he had done so, he looked up at me and said, "Heh, mon, yon Martians are rare good folk, and I'm right sorry to leave them!"

  "Yes, so am I, M'Allister," I answered. He again looked at me keenly, with a queer smile on his face; and remarked, "Mon, I'm thinking you are that, and that you have left something behind you!"

  I knew he meant that I had left my heart behind me, for I was thinking the very same thing; but I turned away from him with a sigh, without answering. The matter was not one about which I cared to speak just then, for I felt very sad and heartsore.

  Our journey passed off without any exciting incidents, everything on the Areonal working most satisfactorily. On the 4th February, 1910, we passed within forty-one million miles of the sun, and the heat at this stage of our journey was terrific, but we had a magnificent view of the sunspots, the corona, and other solar surroundings. In spite of all precautions for counteracting the tremendous pull of the sun, we were drawn considerably out of our direct course, so the journey occupied three days longer than we had anticipated. A large proportion of our time was spent in the air-chamber, in order to prepare us for breathing the atmosphere of our native world.

  We passed across the orbit of Venus on two occasions, and had a near view of this splendid planet (and also of Mercury), for many days; but apart from its larger apparent size and intense brilliancy, we did not see anything more than we could from the earth with a good telescope. The dense atmosphere and its glowing light prevented us from seeing any definite details upon its surface.

  Only three days late, we arrived at our home at Norbury on Monday the 21st March 1910, about an hour before daylight. We descended quite unobserved, and having stowed away our good ship Areonal in its shed and made all secure, we astonished Mrs. Challen by walking into the house very soon after she had risen.

  She seemed truly delighted to see us back again after our long and unprecedented voyage through space, and as soon as our greetings were over she asked, "Where is Mr. Poynders?"

  I said we would tell her all the news whilst we had breakfast, so she bustled about and got the meal ready very quickly. When we sat down she listened with intense interest to our long story, expressing great astonishment when I told her about our discovery of Merna upon Mars. I had tried to keep her from asking about Mr. Poynders, but at length she questioned me so directly that I was compelled to answer, though I dreaded the effect the news would have upon her.

  So, as gently as I could, I explained that Mr. Poynders, having found his son a native of Mars, could not risk bringing him to such a climate as ours, and, as he was unable to leave him, had decided to remain on Mars.

  Poor Mrs. Challen was so upset upon learning this that she threw up her hands, exclaiming, "Then I shall never see my dear old master again!" and putting her handkerchief to her streaming eyes, she hastened out of the room to conceal her emotion.

  I felt very sorry for her, as I knew she had a great respect and liking for Mr. Poynders, with whom she had been so many years.

  During the day I called upon the Professor's solicitors, in accordance with his instructions, and handed them the letter he had entrusted to me. They read it with many exclamations of surprise, for the news it contained was enough to startle even staid lawyers out of their equanimity.

  One of them rang a bell, which was answered by the managing clerk, who was requested to bring in the sealed packet of papers left by Mr. Poynders before he went away. This was quickly brought, and, when opened, found to contain documents settling an annuity of £150 per annum upon Mrs. Challen, a deed of gift of the sum of £200 to M'Allister, and another deed settling all the residue of his estate upon his old friend John Yiewsley Claxton.

  There was also a will to the same effect, in case he might die before the papers were claimed; everything being properly signed and in due order.

  The solicitors both shook hands with me, congratulating me on this substantial addition to my estate; but I told them I already possessed sufficient for my wants, and would greatly prefer that Mr. Poynders should be here to enjoy his own.

  I gave them some particulars of our adventures, and we had quite a long chat; then, taking a cordial leave of them, I returned to Norbury.

  I at once acquainted Mrs. Challen with her good fortune, but she was not to be comforted, saying she would very much rather have her old master back again; and, as this was exactly my own feeling in the matter, I expressed agreement with her.

  However, she calmed down after a while, and I then asked her to consider what she would desire to do in the future. If she liked to remain in the house and look after my welfare, I should be very glad to have her as my own housekeeper; but said it was entirely for her to decide the matter, and she could take her own time to do so.

  She replied that she had neither relatives nor friends to trouble about, so there was no need to take any time over it, for she would only be too pleased to retain her old position, and would do her best to make me comfortable. I assured her that I had no doubt whatever upon that point; thus it was all settled there and then, and she has remained with me ever since.

  My aunt was long since dead, but my two cousins, James and Timothy Snayleye, lived in London: so I thought I would go over to apprise them of my return home. They, however, received me so very coldly that, beyond saying I had been to Mars and back again, and giving a few details of what we had seen there, I did not tell them very much.

  They asked a few questions now and then, but evinced very little interest in my affairs, though I noticed them frequently exchanging nods and winks with each other. I soon left, but after such a reception, was rather surprised when James Snayleye walked into my house the next day and asked to be allowed to call in a day or two and bring with him a couple of friends who were interested in Mars, and would like to hear anything I could tell them. I did not altogether care about discussing my adventures with entire strangers, but, as he was so very pressing, in the end I agreed to see them.

  When they arrived I was greatly surprised to find that, instead of being persons of about the same age as my cousin, both were elderly men. One was introduced to me as Mr. Josias Googery, a Justice of the Peace, and the other as Dr. Loonem.

  We had no sooner sat down than the doctor started the conversation by asking, in an unctuous tone of voice, several questions about my trip--"Whether, ah, it was really true that I had, ah, travelled all the way to Mars and back again in, ah, a vessel of our own construction?"

  All the time he was speaking he was performing the operation known as "washing the hands with invisible soap," a trick which always has an irritating effect upon my nerves.

  In answer to his question I said, "It was quite true that I had been to Mars," and mentioned a few particulars of our trip.

  Mr. Googery then put a few questions to me, and, as I replied, he interjected after almost every sentence that I spoke, "Ah! h'm, yes, just so," James Snayleye sitting by all the
time with a sneering grin upon his face which I found very aggravating.

  When I had told them as much as I thought necessary, they both started cross-examining me in such an impertinent and sceptical manner that at length I became extremely irritated, and declined to answer any more questions. Whereupon Dr. Loonem proceeded to wash his hands again, saying in an oily manner, as though addressing a child, "Pray, ah, don't excite yourself, my dear sir; don't, ah, excite yourself! You know, ah, it's not good for you!"

  This was too much for flesh and blood to bear, so I rose and said that as I had an important engagement to attend to, I could not spare any more time that day, at the same time ringing the bell for Mrs. Challen to show them out.

  She did so, and returned in a state of indignation, saying, she did not like those people at all, they were so rude; and that as they were passing through the doorway she heard the doctor say, "It's a clear case enough; did you notice the gleam in his eyes? that alone is sufficient to settle it!" To this Mr. Googery had replied, "Ah, h'm, yes, just so!"

  "Well, Mrs. Challen," I said, "please understand that if either of those people calls again, I am not at home."

  "Certainly, sir," she answered with great alacrity, as she went out of the room.

  It was no mere excuse, but perfectly correct, when I told those people I had an important engagement to attend to. An old friend of mine, Sir Lockesley Halley, was President of the Dedlingtonian Astronomical Society, and, after hearing my account of Mars, said he would be very glad if I could attend the meeting of his Society on the following evening and give a short address on the subject.

  I was rather averse from this, as the Society was not a large one, though it had several clever men in it, and I knew that the professionals who controlled it, and also the majority of the members, prided themselves on being exponents of what they termed "sane and unsensational astronomy"; which in some cases amounted to saying that they were a long way behind the times.

  It is an interesting fact that we owe a large proportion of our knowledge of planetary detail to the work of enthusiastic amateur observers. In this Society, indeed, nearly all the best observational work was done by the non-professional class; and when, as the result of their systematic and painstaking work, they noted on their planetary drawings some lines or markings which had not previously been recorded, one would have thought their original work would have been commended. It was, however, not unusual in such cases for a professional to rise and calmly declare that the new markings were only illusions, such as he had often predicted would be claimed as discoveries.