The Navigators of Space

by J. -H. Rosny aîné

  Interplanetary communication, ensured by more powerful and subtler apparatus than during our first journey, had been terse, precise and frequent. Logophones and periodicals recounted the vicissitudes of the incredible sojourn. Everyone knew, in fact, but they wanted to see. Innumerable sky-screens were to show the Implicit Chief and Grace to the entire Earth as clearly as if they were present before the spectators’ eyes.

  Grace and the Implicit Chief had watched the Earth increase in size. They could see better than we could, with or without telescopes; their vision far surpassed ours in acuity, delicacy and means of accommodation.

  Grace awaited the moment of touchdown with a delight mingled with dread. She had withstood the journey well; the Tripeds’ respiratory organs, I repeat, have an incomparable power of adaptation; they automatically regulate the quantity of air aspired, and support considerable changes of pressure without sustaining any damage. In consequence, our hosts would not suffer from the change of atmosphere—but would they withstand the climate as easily? It was probable. On Mars, whenever they leave their well-warmed tunnels, they resist very low temperatures. In general, Martians are more durable than Terrans, doubtless due to the particular evolution of their planet.

  XV.

  When we were no more than 200 kilometers from Earth, we reduced the Stellarium’s velocity—which was already much diminished—considerably.

  As we had planned, we were flying over France. Its fields, forests, mountains and the great liquid plain of the Atlantic moved us to tears, while a marvelous ecstasy was manifest in Grace’s shining face and multiple gazes.

  “How young the world is!” the grave and pensive Implicit Chief said, eventually. “One would think that it had just been born…”

  The Tripeds were even more charmed than astonished by the waters—seas, lakes and rivers—and the flow and movement of their waves.

  “Here, everything can always begin again,” said Grace. “Always!”

  Meanwhile, Violaine, who was leaning on my shoulder, murmured: “It’s true that everything here is young—even an old city like Paris, thanks to its young river, its canals and its gardens.”

  We were no longer alone; clouds of vortices and gliders came from every direction. My father,63 Jean and Violaine’s mother and Antoine’s parents and brother escorted us, along with known and unknown friends. Grace lowered her head, intimidated, but the Implicit Chief admired the human power of the flying multitude. Behind our transparent walls, we were as visible as in the open air, and airborne reporters were taking photographs of our guests with an indiscreet ardor.

  “I understand that they’re wonderstruck,” said Jean, “but they’re annoying me.”

  “The other side of the coin!” Antoine added.

  The multitude increased with time, troubling the joy of the return, which we had wanted to be gentle and welcoming.

  “They might leave us to our families!” exclaimed Violaine. Our families did, however, form a kind of barrier.

  With the aid of magnetic dishes, we exchanged a few hasty and tender words, but as several people were speaking at the same time, the conversation could not be other than confused.

  Finally, the crowd became intolerable; we arranged to meet our families and close friends in my old house at Yvette and flew over the spectators.

  For ten days, however, we were obliged to suffer the indiscretion of the curious and reporters.

  After the initial alarm, Grace and the Implicit Chief tolerated the importunity of the Terrestrials without too much irritation. Seeing only benevolence in the visitors and curiosity-seekers, they even found a certain pleasure in it. Soon, however, the curiosity was appeased, and we had entire days without visitors. I made excursions with Jean, Grace, Violaine and the Implicit Chief, sometimes by land and sometimes by air. Sometimes, the aquaplane set down on a river or a lake, and that was perhaps what Grace and Violaine preferred.

  “It seems to me,” said Grace, “that I have returned to a very ancient existence, the memory of which is like a dream.”

  “Even for us,” Violaine replied, “the skies evoke times that have disappeared into the prehistoric night.”

  “And God separated the inferior waters from the superior waters!” Jean intoned.

  We observed a singular evolution of sensitivity in our guests. The resigned inertia characteristic of Martians, the apathy of beings who accept their degeneration, decreased from day to day. The Implicit Chief, formerly so placid, manifested more inclination to strong emotion every way. He was conscious of it. “Even in my childhood,” he said, “I was never as young as I am now.”

  For Grace, it was a magical world. Even more than her father, she led a new life, the charm of which increased continually. She sought out the company of Violaine, who enchanted her, and Violaine submitted to Grace’s attraction. The three of us often went out together; my two loves mingled strangely, so dissimilar and yet confused in the same universal origin. I tried to analyze my sentiments, but ran into a wall of darkness. It seemed that Grace’s enchanted atmosphere augmented my love for Violaine, and it is certain that I never loved my fiancée more than when the three of us were together.

  The day of the wedding drew closer. Grace awaited it impatiently. It seemed that it was her own marriage that was about to be celebrated. A strange mental transposition made her want to see a son of my descendancy, as if she would be giving birth to him herself—and when I told her that, she replied: “I’m sure that he will be attached to me by a filial link. He will bear something of my race. Oh, you have nothing to fear—it will be purely internal…and yet, if ever he makes a voyage to Mars, he will feel almost an exile here!”

  She spoke with an infectious exaltation. Her beautiful eyes shot forth enchanted gleams. I had no alternative but to share her singular illusion…

  Our marriage was a world-wide event, the explorers of Mars being famous throughout the world, and travelers arrived from all parts of the globe. Myriads of machines filled the sky. Around our house their number, arranged in several layers, was so great that the sky could only be seen through a few narrow gaps. By night, their beacons spread a blinding light.

  I found myself alone with Grace as the hour approached when I would meet Violaine. She was radiant. She pressed herself against me, embracing me for a long time, and a strange energy was added to the happiness that overwhelmed me.

  “You will love her all the more for it,” said the Martian female, “and I shall…”

  I only found out the following day what she had decided to do, and I rejoined Violaine, simultaneously intoxicated by Martian and terrestrial love.

  The next day, I got up before my wife, and found Grace waiting for me. Her enchanting eyes were full of tenderness.

  “You’re happy,” she said. “I love your happiness. Did you think of me a little?”

  “I’m always thinking about you, Grace.”

  She seemed to hesitate momentarily, while I looked at her admiringly, then said: “Would you like a child of mine—a child that will have retained a part of your radiance?” When I did not reply, in surprise, she went on: “Remember that Martian women can become mothers by themselves when they desire it for a long time and with a great intensity. I have desired it for months, and yesterday, I desired a child with such force that one will be born.”

  What a fantastic delight overwhelmed me, augmented by contact with the young Martian female!

  The health of Grace and the Implicit Chief was quite unaffected. They digested a few terrestrial nutriments, which permitted the eking out of the provisions that we had brought from Mars. Meat did not suit them, although they liked fruits and vegetables. All in all, their adaptive abilities far surpassed those we had shown on Mars.

  “It’s probably a sort of return to the conditions of an ancestral environment,” Antoine remarked. “After all, there have been epochs on Mars when the pressure, the temperature and the creatures themselves had more analogy than present circumstances with conditions on Eart
h. Their physiology is, in a sense, remembering…”

  “While we live on Mars,” said Grace, “in an environment that might perhaps be analogous to one yet to come on Earth.”

  In order to acclimate our guests more effectively, we acquired—or, rather, the Grand Council of States granted us—a high mountain valley, to which the Stellarium could take us in minutes, although our vortices sufficed to travel the 500 kilometers that separated us from the refuge. We spent an initial sojourn there in one of those mobile chalets that can be set up in a few hours.

  A thousand meters above the domain the eternal snows began; the valley, sheltered from the wind and easily accessible to the sunlight, remained frost-free until mid-October.

  We’re going to try out a few seeds here,” Jean said. He had brought back a large collection of seeds of the plants he had cultivated on Mars, along with small animals, only two of which had died. The others, cared for by the Implicit Chief, proved as resistant as our Triped guests.

  The latter were enjoying the new period of rest, though not as much as the long voyages across the continents, especially the ocean crossings in Antoine’s Argonaut, which was sometimes a ship and sometimes a gyroplane. Sailing over those vast liquid expanses reanimated a young and magnificent life in them that had been forgotten on Mars for millennia. The long watery waves plunged them into a cosmic reverie that went as far as ecstasy.

  XVI.

  Thus the days, the months and two seasons went by—and then began the miracle that would create a stir over the entire planet.

  Inevitably, I was the first to perceive that Grace was surrounded by an almost invisible glow. Violaine did not take long to discern it too. She said to me as the light was fading one day: “We are alone in seeing the aura that is enveloping Grace…”

  “Ah!” I said. “You can see it?”

  Grace was walking in the garden. As the light declined, the aura became faintly visible.

  “You’re thinking the same thing as me,” Violaine said, smiling. “Besides, that’s not all…”

  I nodded my head.

  “It will be lovely!”

  That exclamation left me somewhat surprised.

  “It’s so beautiful, their way of being pregnant, while ours…” She lowered her head in confusion. I took her in my arms, gently. “And yet, I’m happy to be a terrestrial mother!” She remained silent for a moment, pensively. “I believe she loves us very much,” she went on, in a low voice. “Especially you…”

  “She only ever mentions you with enthusiasm…”

  “I know that, and I have a singular affection for her—an otherworldly affection. Perhaps that helps me to understand the affection that she has for us. I don’t know how the idea came to me that she desired a child because we are expecting one…she has a sort of love for you…”

  That was so unexpected that it took my breath away. A muffled anxiety was mingled with the surprise; it would have been so painful for me if Violaine were jealous…

  “You look flabbergasted!” she said. “That’s only natural. What harm is there in it? It’s so very different from what the love of a woman would be…and so delightfully pure! If I were a man, I believe that I would feel something like that for her…”

  “Oh, Violaine…!”

  “Yes, and I don’t think that would prevent me in the least from loving a woman. It would be as if I loved a flower…a prodigious flower…a conscious flower. I don’t know whether you can understand…”

  “Yes…yes I can…” I said, with a haste that I regretted immediately.

  She burst out laughing, and then became serious again. “It’s certain that you’re very attached to Grace. You understand it better than I do. It’s you, in fact, who discovered it, so to speak. I’d already guessed it before leaving Mars.”

  “I didn’t know that!” I stammered.

  Dusk was advancing slowly. Soon, a colossal scarlet sun was poised in the gap between two hills. The neighboring village church occupied a tiny corner of the firelit surface. Little by little, the shadow of the rotating Earth devoured the star, and the festival of the clouds began…

  Grace’s aura was now so visible that Jean and Antoine, who had just dined with us, paused.

  “I suspected as much!” Jean exclaimed. “Now I’m sure.”

  “Bah!” said Antoine. “I’ve known for a week.”

  “And you didn’t say anything!”

  “Like them,” Antoine replied, phlegmatically, pointing at Violaine and me. “Anyway, I could have been mistaken—better to await confirmation. And even now, although I know that it’s sufficient for Martians to desire it intensely, I’m not entirely sure of the denouement. I’m wondering why she wanted it.”

  “She has more than one reason!” Jean exclaimed. “The most alive of Martian women, she must desire not to be the last link in a vertiginous chain of ancestry. Notice that she’s more vivacious than she was on Mars. Then again, it will be a sort of commemoration of her terrestrial sojourn—for I’m assuming that she’s thinking about returning to her astral homeland. And finally, because Violaine…” He stopped, and burst out laughing.

  “By way of emulation?” said Antoine.

  “That, old fellow, is almost slander. I’d say out of sympathy.”

  “Good!” said Violaine.

  We contemplated the sumptuous clouds for a while; in the distance, rivers, mountains and gulfs were slowly emerging and vanishing—and Grace, in her silvery aura, shot through with fine networks of emerald, and her huge eyes, shining more brightly than the stars, mingled a living charm with the sovereign beauty of the occidental sky.

  “A marvelous mode of reproduction!” Jean murmured. “Is it not proof of the superiority of Martians, at least in terms of nature?”

  “Let’s steer clear of that genre of hypotheses,” said Antoine. “It’s more like a final manifestation, before the end of Martian life.”

  “Disappearance,” said Violaine. “But the Martians are not ready to disappear, I hope.”

  “In a million years, approximately. I say a million to focus our ideas—I could as easily have said fewer, or more.”

  “I can breathe again!” said Violaine, laughing. “Perhaps humankind won’t last any longer.”

  “As we are surely not. Between now and a million years hence, we might have undergone a considerable transformation.”

  “Progress or decadence?”

  “I don’t know. My own opinion favors a decrease in mental activity, as in the Martians, but certainly not in the same form.”

  “Personally, I believe in a superior activity for a few more million years!” Jean exclaimed.

  “You’re very greedy.”

  Darkness fell. Grace and the Implicit Chief rejoined us. The young Martian female’s aura reminded me of ancient fables of luminous clouds guiding individuals or populations through the desert.

  Via the servants, and then the neighbors, the news spread, first around our place of residence and then, gradually, by means of phone calls and news reports, to the distant reaches of the planet. Visitors flocked; regional reporters, then provincial ones, and finally national ones from every country, invading the locale like locusts.

  We obtained a relative peace by fixing two hours a day when Grace would be visible at a distance. Clouds of aircraft flew over our dwelling incessantly. We asked for privacy in vain; we could not persuade people who had come from the antipodes or the poles to leave without taking away films of the miracle…

  Thus, day by day, the planet followed the metamorphosis of the mist, the concentration that rendered it more and more luminous, and finally, the marvelous shell, the huge white flower. When the child began to take form, the excitement became delirious…

  Epilogue

  I shall always remember that morning.

  We were staying in the mountain chalet. I got up while the household as still asleep, and immediately went into the garden, with which I had been impassioned for some time. The Martian plants were gro
wing abundantly, mingled here and there with Alpine plants. They already provided a part of the alimentation of Grace and the Implicit Chief, who ate them with pleasure, although they did not prefer them to the terrestrial foodstuffs to which they had adapted perfectly.

  Some ten Martian animals were living in the vicinity of the house. Jean had domesticated them completely; not only did they show no inclination to run away but, being rather fearful, waited for their hosts to wake up before going to graze at a distance. Two of them followed me in my morning stroll; the first, the size of a cat, was blue and gold, and had a corkscrew muzzle and helical legs. It performed strange somersaults as it walked, as if its feet were mounted on springs. The other, as sinuous as a weasel, was amaranthine on its back, pink underneath with emerald stripes; its legs extended almost horizontally, terminating in spatulate feet, which caused it to progress half-crawling and half-hopping.

  Each of them had six large eyes, whose beauty far surpassed those of all terrestrial animals, from gazelles to tigers: six focal points through which passed all the colors and shades of the solar spectrum.

  As I was daydreaming in the depths of the garden, I saw Grace running toward me; she was holding her child in her arms—a sign that its embryonic growth was concluded. The little child’s eyes were already magnificent.

  “I’m happy,” she said. “I dedicate him to the Earth, his fatherland…and to you, who gave me the desire to give birth to him!”

  I looked at him tenderly, and it genuinely seemed to me that, although it was so different, his face had a slightly human form.

  “He’s a Martian…I wanted him thus.”

  Violaine appeared on the threshold with Jean.

  “The first terrestrial Martian!” Jean exclaimed. “We’ll look to him for…a complement!”

  He had conceived the idea of founding a little Martian colony, inoffensive by definition.

  Violaine looked at the new-born intently. “He will bring happiness to ours!” she said. She was also about to give birth.