“When the cooling of the Sun has rendered this world uninhabitable, it might be that life will continue
on its sister planet. Shall we be able to conquer it?
Obscure and prodigious is the vision that I evoke…”
H. G. Wells
The scientific bases of this novel are taken from Vers les autres Mondes, one of the first attempts to resolve the most important question after that of death: do other humankinds exist, and can we contact them? Professor Hauchet’s discourse is a reproduction, in its entirety, of my article in the 15 January 1913 issue of L’Avion.71
Some will accuse me of anti-patriotism, but this study is objective. I have worked from nature. Léo Stahl is not a myth, any more than his words are. We always think of “old” Germany, but the Empire is only as old as a human adult; in the full pride of youth, it finds that its share of this world is not large enough—and German’s self-confidence is formidable, served by a proverbial systematization and perseverance. “It is to the Empire of the World that the German genius aspires,” an imperial voice has said. Now, the world expands according to our power and our will; it may be the world of Augustus, bounded by England, the Baltic and the Sahara, or boundless space—and the empire of another world will cost him a thousand time less in money and blood than a single league of Champagne!
We, the French, can forget our internal struggles briefly. It is by showing how others believe in their fatherland, and what destinies it promises them, that we shall learn to cherish our own.
Part One: The Push Towards The Stars
I. The Ideas of Doctor Hauchet
Heinrich von Reinhardt resumed the work of his old master, Graf von Zeppelin, and completed it. The monsters that he launched into the submissive air crossed the Atlantic in a single bound, and he was covered at the age of 37 with honors and gold. In the Empire, his name was a fanfare; the shadow of his work extended over Europe. His friends called him, jokingly, “a barbarian of genius.” His build was massive, his strength inexhaustible. But he realized what he had dreamed in the flame of inspiration, with the dogged perseverance of his race. Neither he, nor Otto Rosenwald, nor Hauchet understood, to begin with, the significance of the moment that brought them together one fine morning in Heidelberg.
Rosenwald was still at the age of joyful devotion, and to him von Reinhardt took on a godlike stature. Rich and independent, however, he welcomed a man equally used to risking his life, hard work and making merry—and von Reinhardt liked him, recognizing him as a man of sound constitution, which rang true.
Hauchet, with his keen eyes beneath his bald forehead and his tall, sturdy body, was also not unknown to Reinhardt. Their lives intersected at the Congress of Aviation and meetings of similar Associations, enough for them to look forward to seeing one another again. As for Rosenwald, Hauchet had known him and won him over two years before, at the International Conference of the Franco-German League.72
They talked about the latest aerial successes, and Otto, the youngest of the three, joked: “What is there to do now? Go to the Moon? Listen to the Doctor—he’ll explain the method to you.”
“Really?” said von Reinhardt. “I’m at your disposal, Doctor.” He never neglected any idea, crazy as it might seem, but was vigilant and always on the lookout. There’s an ounce of truth in every ton of error was a proverb created for his use.
Hauchet paused for thought, then, in a calm voice that gradually became more animated, said: “It’s a common idea nowadays, and almost everyone says, ‘After aviation will come something else; man was not made to crawl upon the Earth forever; his destiny must be higher.’ Every dream that man has conceived must ultimately be realized, when it arrives in its scientific phase. Let’s review the facts.
“The terrible dream of rising into the sky, overcoming the Earth’s gravitational attraction and crossing the gulf of space to penetrate the virgin atmospheres of other worlds comes down to a question of speed. Flammarion and Moreux73 have demonstrated that it only requires a moving object to be launched from our Earth with a relatively limited speed—11,309 meters in the first second—to attain a practically infinite end. For if that speed diminishes, the attraction of the Earth diminishes with the square of the distance. At ten terrestrial radii—63,660 kilometers—the attraction will have fallen to 1/100th; a kilogram would weight ten grams. At 100 radii, that weight falls to 1/10,000th. And at a relatively small distance of two radii, weight relative to our world is already a fourth of that which oppresses us thereon. These figures are proved by all our science, without wearying the reader with mathematical explanations.
“The problem thus comes down to imparting to a mass of a several tons—travelers, provisions, etc.—a velocity of 14 or 15 kilometers per second, because it’s necessary to take into account the frightful resistance of the air at such speeds and it’s necessary that the speed is more than 11 kilometers per second at the moment of emergence from our atmosphere.
“One thinks of Jules Verne’s cannon, but present explosives are insufficient, and besides, the frightful recoil would annihilate its passengers on departure despite all shock-absorbers, brakes and so on. It’s necessary to depart with a gradually accelerated speed. Industrial mechanics permits that. We shall, therefore, utilize centrifugal force; its application to the launch of projectiles has already been studied several times since 1880.
“Let us imagine a wheel of large diameter, and a profile such that its thickness increases from the circumference to the center, the heaviest mass being around the axle—exactly the contrary of industrial flywheels. This wheel is made of the finest steel, with perfectly smooth faces. The axle is flexible, turning in liquid oil—under pressure, if necessary. We start the wheel turning by means of an alternating motor, in the fashion of a turbine. The latter can achieve a speed of several 100 rotations per second.
“At the periphery of the wheel, a hollow is fabricated containing a vehicle retained, either by some sort of clamp or by metallic blocks forming a locking-mechanism at the two extremities—an apparatus, at any rate, enabling the vehicle to be detached in a given orientation within a fraction of a second. We can do that by means of a catch within the lock, for example, or some other mechanism.
“One can hardly imagine the enormous initial velocities that can be imparted by a wheel of an almost current diameter: ten meters. Its circumference will be 31,40 meters, and it is not unreasonable to suppose 200 rotations per second with a Laval turbine equipped with an alternating motor. Now, we already have a velocity of 6.280 meters per second, by which means our projectile could easily travel several thousand kilometers.
“An apparatus of this type, which I shall call an ‘explorer,’ installed on the equator and aimed towards the sky, given appropriate measuring-devices, would already permit hyperatmospheric probes of practical interest—for we are utterly ignorant of what happens only 60 kilometers above our heads. These projectile probes would be capable of going up hundreds of kilometers. Falling back into the sea, they could be gathered up following a fall that some mechanical device—a parachute with rocket-flares, for example—could slow down and signal.
“After experiments of this sort, we would enter into the phase of interplanetary voyages, which would evidently demand a titanic launch-engine that could only be constructed by a Nation—and there is an extraordinary analogy there with the beginnings of aviation. The Wright brothers’ apparatus had to be launched by means of a special apparatus, then to be sustained in the air by its own means.
“Now, we have at our disposal presently—Esnault-Pelterie74 has demonstrated it, among others—a motor adequate for an apparatus isolated in space and separated to some degree from the heavy gravitation of the Earth to displace itself at will. This is the reaction-motor. The principle dates from the time of Hieron of Syracuse,75 and all our engineers know it. In brief, any apparatus that can project in space or in the atmosphere a high-speed jet of gas, will recoil therefrom.
Now, we make use of powerful explosive
s such as panclastite, transportable in the form of two separate liquids that are only mixed at the moment of their explosion. Panclastite burns with an enormous production of temperature. Its fall, in the presence of the absolute cold of space (-273o) would therefore be considerable, and the energy produced maximized.76
“We therefore have a vehicle in space provided with a reaction-motor—or rather two, one at each end. These motors would, in effect, be cannon-barrels of the finest metal, long enough to use all the energy produced. The panclastite will be detonated therein in measured doses by means of a conceivable apparatus. The gas is precipitated outside and the vehicle recoils. Its weight, in space, is equivalent to a few kilograms at most. The mass of the expelled gases similarly diminishes with gravitation, but their speed remains the same—the chemical energy of explosive mixtures does not change in the void.77 We are, therefore—at the cost of a few risks, admittedly—masters of our movements in open space, the motors being displaced along with the vehicle.
“But a reaction motor, however powerful it might be, can only raise a vehicle that is initially at rest from the ground at the cost of a vast expenditure of explosive that none would remain for the rest of the voyage—for beyond the Moon, interplanetary distances are measured in millions of kilometers. That is why we must bring centrifugal force into lay for the launch.
“We envisage a wheel of very large diameter, in the form already indicated, decreasing from the center to the perimeter. An 80-meter diameter, corresponding to a circumference of 251 meters, would give, at only 30 turns per second, an initial speed of 7530 meters per second. Now, there is no need for us to hurry. One could easily take 12, 24 or 48 hours to bring the wheel up to its maximum speed, and present-day motors would be largely adequate to the task.
“Half of the wheel will be buried in a ditch; the axle will be directly activated by an alternating motor and a steam turbine. It will be flexible, to avoid any displacement. The projectile in its hollow will be launched instantaneously at a given moment by an electrical apparatus; it will depart towards the Zenith.
“The vehicle will affect the classical form of a dirigible attacking the air thick end first. It will have two steel hulls with a void between them, in order that its internal heat will not escape into the void of space, and double windows, engineered so that they can be opened from the inside or outside—if the projectile falls back, the voyagers will be unconscious. Liquid air and caustic soda—with a device for passing gas through it—will be provided for respiration. Canned food, water, coffee, etc., will not represent an enormous weight, allowing for three voyagers—the minimum, from the scientific and human viewpoints. The observation apparatus will be located at the front of the projectile; provisions of all sorts will be placed at the rear, to lower the center of gravity. A laboratory will be in communication with the void for all imaginable experiments, and we shall design a direct-to-space system for the evacuation of wastes. The projectile will also be fitted with wireless telegraph.
“The air resistance on departure is one of the greatest difficulties. We shall depend, in that respect, on coating the projectile with a layer of fusible metal, which heat will change into liquid or gas, protecting the steel. Besides, at 8 kilometers per second, the trajectory through a slightly resistant atmosphere will last 10 or 12 seconds at the most, and the next 20 kilometers of the atmosphere is rarefied.
“It is, moreover, not necessary to imagine that we, as masters of the wheel, shall send the projectile and its passengers with the speed at which they will go through space to another world. Although there is a limiting velocity—11,309 meters per second—that will launch a projectile into the deserts of space permanently, a lesser and more practical speed of at least 8 kilometers per second will permit it to describe an enormous ellipse whose focal point will be the terrestrial orbit.
“Departing thus, our projectile will become an independent celestial body, capable of describing a closed arc that will allow it to come close enough to the target planet—probably Mars—for telescopic examination to be fruitful, and even to deliver material messages by sending miniature projectiles to the planet via the direct-to-space apparatus.
“Then, having satisfied their curiosity, our projectile would complete the arc that it is describing and return to Earth with increasing velocity. It is necessary not to forget that the reaction-motor constitutes a chance of indisputable security, for space is large and the Earth is small. In space, however, where bodies weigh very little, the least effort of the motor can transport the projectile thousands of leagues, for there is neither air nor weight there—nothing but void.
“To sum up, if we depart with a velocity of less than 8 kilometers per second, we shall describe a relatively short ellipse. At 8 kps, we shall orbit the Earth. Above 8 kps, the described ellipse will gradually increase. At 10 kps, we shall reach the Moon. At 11,309 kps, our goal is, in fact, infinity.
“This is neither fantasy nor fable. It is evident that many people will consider this titanic journey, and this projectile traversing space with its reaction motor, carrying several men, with a stern eye. It is also evident that the great adventure of which we speak involves unknown risks. We do not know how men might be affected by weightlessness. Perhaps there are gases unknown to our science in space, invisible to our eyes but capable of killing us. Perhaps enormous bolides will crash into us, consigning us to incandescent death. Perhaps… The Universe is infinite and Man is very tiny.
“We are attempting here, however, the first scientific solution of the problem of interplanetary communication. In all that we have read on the subject, with the exception of Jules Verne’s cannon, Wells’ Cavorite—a substance impenetrable to gravitation—would be the most practical method, but we know of no such substance as yet.
“Even outside the viewpoint of science, the occupation by humans of another world would be the greatest feat in our history. No one can foresee what unknown wealth it would bring us. Perhaps the planet Venus is nothing but an immense mass of radium! And the red planet, Mars, might be able to inform us of an epoch-making science.
“A poet has said: The time has come to conquer the planets and mount an assault on the stars.”
The doctor fell silent, still vibrant with excitement. Rosenwald’s eyes shone with a flame similar to his, although these theories were entirely new to him, and he murmured: “What an idea! What a grandiose idea!”
“Yes,” von Reinhardt added, pensively. “It’s an idea worthy of the grandeur of Germany and its mission in the world.” His large body drew itself upright forcefully.
They looked at one another in silence, but the winged words had taken flight. Their thoughts were in accord now, beyond words.
Rosenwald almost shouted: “Hauchet, you have faith! I shall put my life in the balance with you. And you, my friend, who know the Earth, the deep sea, the frozen sky up there among the stars…you’re sated with the world. It has fulfilled your dreams. Forge a higher dream, for yourself and for our Fatherland…”
As he fell silent, a band struck up Deutschland, Deutschland über alles. A vivid blush rose up in Heinrich von Reinhardt’s face—and all three of them left for Paris by the first train, bound for Hauchet’s house.
II. Germany’s Future is in the Stars
When they came back, von Reinhardt was full of exultant energy, and Rosenwald’s intoxication equaled that of joyful wine. As soon as he returned to his workshops in Mannheim, von Reinhardt summoned two dozen specialist experts by telegraph, put the question to them, and set things in motion. His incontestable authority was, it must be admitted, an important counterweight to their initial incredulity. Then they thought about it and, sheltered from indiscretions, on tranquil evenings beneath placid stars, around savory platters in the familiar light of soft lamps, those men made plans to conquer another world—or all of them—by choice. It required no more for human history to be cut in two, before and after.
Already, though, they were specializing. “They’re preparing a
manual,” said Ronenwald, one evening.
Hauchet lit a cigar, smiled and replied: “I’ll tell you a story about a Dane, a German and a Manual.78 It’s so good that it’s true. I knew the three characters, for the Dane was on the Sund border with the German. The weather was good and the sea, seen from the cliff, was calm.
“ ‘I’d love to take a trip on the Sund,’ said the Dane, ‘but I don’t know how to operate a sailing-boat.’
“ ‘Me neither,’ said the German, ‘but don’t worry. I have my navigation manual in my pocket.’
“On the strength of that book, they embarked, and, as long as they were in the shelter of the cliffs, everything went perfectly well. When their boat went out into the open sea, though, it began to dance around. The Dane became uneasy.
“ ‘I’ll see what the manual says,’ his companion offered—and without further ado, he tied up the sail, took out the book and began to riffle through it—but the wind turned abruptly in the tied-up sail and, a moment later, the manual, the Dane, the German and the boat were at the bottom of the Sund. They’d be there still but for the opportune arrival of fishermen who, having no manual…”
“And the moral is…?” asked Rosenwald, laughing.
“There isn’t one—that’s the best thing about it,” Hauchet concluded.
And they held other joyful conversations that evening, for the preparatory work was finished. Now the talk, for weeks or months, would be of hammers and lifting-tackle.
The next day, von Reinhardt had a communiqué sent to the German press, and the loquacious newspapers transmitted the rumor to everyone who could read.
The French newspapers approved of the audacity of the idea, partly because of Hauchet, and, for the most part, did not think the endeavor beyond the industrial strength of Germany. Le Matin fretted in vain about an “ambition no longer pan-Germanist but, so to speak, pan-uranist.”79
The Germans on Venus Page 21