Meteors?
Rubbish. We know how they behave, too, by radar. These saucers are under control.
They must be, or arriving within the gravitational field of the earth they would fall down on us. What the nature of the controlling force is we don't know, but we will, one day. It is my considered opinion that these forces — call them creatures with brains if you like
— are doing what we ought to be doing; looking around for fresh territory; possibly a world more comfortable than their own, or perhaps out of sheer curiosity. It was curiosity that sent men out to explore our own little world. Curiosity is an essential part of our make-up. Were it not so, prehistoric man would have stood still and we should still be living in those same uncomfortable conditions. In my view the flying saucers were to be expected. They are behaving in a perfectly normal and reasonable way.'
'How do you mean?'
'They are proceeding just as we shall proceed when we start to explore the outer spaces.
The first obvious step will be to survey our satellite, the Moon. The next will be to land on it. That may be a risky undertaking for the first man who attempts it, for he will be staking his life on the accuracy of mathematical calculations and the possibility of an unknown quantity. The next step will be to establish a cosmodrome.
That achieved, the exploration of the other planets will follow in due course.'
'Cosmodrome?' queried Tiger.
'My own word for a base far out in space, either in a suitable orbit or at the point of neutralization of two fields of gravity. From the latter point the cosmodrome couldn't fall either way. It would have no weight. A man on it, having no weight either, couldn't fall off. What the effect of that will be on the human system remains to be seen. Here, our internal organs are kept in place by the gravity and atmospheric pressure to which they have over many years become adapted. I'm not boring you, I hope?'
'Far from it. I'm finding my first lesson in astronautics remarkably interesting,' answered Tiger. `Please continue.'
Ì was saying that our aerial visitors which have become known as flying saucers are behaving wonderfully well. As a first experiment our interplanetary experts are talking of hitting the Moon with a charge of flash powder which should be visible through a telescope. What would we say if the other planets began to bombard us with flash powder? At present the saucers are surveying the Earth. One day — indeed, any day now
— one may land here. It will then be proved that the insistence of some people on rocket propulsion as the only motive power for a spaceship was wrong.'
`You don't agree with the rocket principle, then?'
'The physical and mathematical aspects have been cleverly investigated, but I am doubtful if their practical application will solve the problem of interplanetary flight. It was, of course, the German V.2, that sent people rocket mad. But I soon satisfied myself that the ultimate energy to be obtained from liquid fuel, taken in conjunction with the melting point of metals, would never give us what we wanted. Better fuels may be found, but the heat generated would melt any known metal. No, I cannot see us getting much farther with rockets. The fantastic amount of fuel required sets a limit to what is, in my opinion, a clumsy device. A rocket, travelling at 18,000 miles an hour, might reach an altitude of 24,000 miles; but it would still be earthbound, with no power left to check its fall on the return journey. Remember, just as much power would be required to check the fall of a spaceship as to send it up. The V.2, with an overall weight of four tons, had to devote three tons of that weight to fuel - alcohol and liquid oxygen. Even that enormous load was expended in a few seconds. From that you may gather an idea of how much fuel would be needed to take a rocket to the Moon and back.'
So you're satisfied that a rocket is not the answer to interplanetary flight?'
'I am. A rocket, starting at the necessary tremendous speed, will always exhaust most of its power getting clear of the Earth's atmosphere, leaving nothing in its tanks by the time it reaches the places where it needs more fuel. The answer seemed to me to be a vehicle that could travel in its own time through the atmosphere, reserving its true motive power for when it got beyond that barrier. That, I believe, is what our neighbours on another planet are doing with their saucers.'
You think they're coming from another planet in our own Solar System?'
I'm fairly sure, but I wouldn't be definite. You see, when we talk of the outer Universe the time factor must be taken into account. These flying saucers do not necessarily leave home, look at the Earth, and return the same day. They may have been in the air for a long time. True, at a speed of 25,000 miles an hour we could get to the Moon in ten hours. And we needn't be sceptical about such speeds when we remember that in aviation speeds have jumped from sixty to a thousand miles an hour in a few years.
But the Moon is close to us. The planets are a different story. The only way the rocket experts can visualize interplanetary flight at the moment is by taking advantage of certain orbits, bouncing from one field of gravity to another, so to speak. That means going a long way round.
To reach our nearest planet, Venus, by that method would take six months.
It would take nine months to get to Mars, close on three years to get to Jupiter. That never sounded reasonable to me. Of course, the flying saucers may have speeds beyond our imagination; we must always reckon on that. A saucer, starting from Mars and travelling at sixty miles a second, would get here inside a week. Don't stare. Such speeds are quite feasible once one is free of gravity, and head resistance. The difficulty that arises here, though, is how they would avoid obstructions, for it would be quite impossible at such a speed to make a sharp turn.'
Obstructions - in the open spaces?' questioned Rex.
'Yes, indeed. They represent a danger, although fortunately not a serious one, to space flight. Travelling in their orbits are many planetoids -
call them satellites - that have left their parents. There are also millions of meteorites, tiny pieces of lost worlds, hurtling about. When one enters the gravitational field of the Earth, and encounters our atmosphere, it becomes incandescent with heat, and, fortunately for us, burning itself out, seldom reaches the ground. Occasionally one reaches us, and in the past some big ones have hit us more than once. Some people call these lost fragments shooting stars.'
I don't think I should care for interplanetary travel,' decided Rex.
The Professor's eyes sparkled. But think of the thrill of it, my boy.
Think of the thrill of seeing other worlds!'
Tell me, Professor. Have you ever seen a flying saucer?' asked Tiger.
'I have.'
Where?'
'Here.'
'Here?'
Yes. There's one just outside. I wouldn't exactly call it a saucer. Say a flying basin.'
Tiger stared. 'Are you saying there's one outside here now?'
'Yes.'
'You don't mean on the ground?'
'Of course. It's mine. I made it. That's why I disapprove of trespassers and take precautions against them. It is also why I chose this remote glen in which to work. I don't want to be thrown into a lunatic asylum.
Ha! That's what they call people, you know, who think ahead of normal scientific progress. I ordered Judkins to admit you because you were known to me by name and reputation. By the nature of your work, too, you will understand the importance of secrecy. In deciding to take you into my confidence I was actuated, I confess, to some extent by selfish motives. Two heads, provided there are brains in both of them, are always better than one. There are some constructional details in my machine on which I would value your opinion. That is if you're not in a great hurry to get home.'
I am on two months leave,' said Tiger. 'It was thought I needed a rest.
What is this machine of yours? An aircraft?' 'A cosmobile.'
'A what?'
'Cosmobile. My own word for the type. From cosmos, the ancient outer atmosphere, and mobile — moving. There are Skymasters and Globemaste
rs, so in a moment of vagrant fancy I named my machine the Spacemaster.'
By this time Rex was beginning to wonder if he was dreaming. The conversation, he thought, was getting too fantastic to be true. Yet there was the Professor, talking with such casual assurance that he obviously believed every word he said. He might be eccentric, but he certainly did not look mad.
Tiger resumed. 'Did you actually build this machine here?'
'Yes. I had the component parts prefabricated to my own design, and with the help of the worthy Judkins assembled them here. I own it was not a satisfactory method of working and we encountered many difficulties, but it was the way best suited to my purpose.'
'Have you tested this aircraft yet?' inquired Tiger.
'Yes and no. That is to say, not at any great altitude, astronomically speaking, for fear of being seen. But I have made tests sufficient for my purpose. If my calculations are correct, the atmosphere — troposphere, stratosphere, ionosphere or exosphere — will be all the same to the Spacemaster.'
'Does your machine bear any resemblance to a flying saucer, as these things have been described?'
'More or less. It is deeper than a saucer; but it certainly has nothing in common with a rocket. I plan to travel comparatively slowly through the atmosphere, because I have doubts about a human body standing up to the initial acceleration of a rocket launched in the way that has become orthodox. I mean, of course, a rocket that was going to get anywhere worth while. A rocket may be all right for carrying instruments, but I would be sorry to be in one.'
'May I be permitted to know the sort of motive power you intend to employ, since, as you say, you have no faith in rocket propulsion?'
'You may, but it is getting rather late for serious technical engineering questions,'
answered the Professor, glancing at the clock. Tomorrow, if you are interested, I'll show you the Spacemaster and give you an idea of how it works — that is, if you don't want to continue your stag-hunting.'
Ì'd rather see the Spacemaster.'
Good. I'd hoped you'd say that. I'll also tell you what I hope to do.'
'One last question, sir,' pleaded Rex. `Do you believe there is life on the Moon?'
The Professor smiled. Well, I don't expect to see elderly professors in shabby clothes, or bathing beauties without clothes, waiting to greet me.
But there may be something. I prefer to reserve opinion. I am well aware that many astronomers state positively that the Moon is dead; but can they prove it? Of course not. After all, if, as many say, the Moon was once part of the Earth, it must have undergone the same processes.
Even if, as it is said, the Moon is subject to temperatures different from ours, that is not to say that some of the original forms of life, developed in a remote period, did not adapt themselves to a process of change that may have been so slow as to occupy millions of years. If creatures on Earth could change with a changing environment, as we know they did, why not some form of life on the Moon?'
'But I've heard it said that there's no air there.'
`Tut-tut, my boy. A lot of things are said. Who's to prove it? There may be some form of atmosphere, even if it is very thin. It may not be our type of air. It may be hydrogen, or helium — anything. There are loose masses of gas in the outer spaces. I don't care what it is. My argument still applies. Our air suits us, but it may not suit other creatures. It doesn'
t suit fish. They prefer water, which is a mixture of hydrogen and oxygen. I believe that life can adapt itself to anything in which it finds itself, given sufficient time. For all we know, creatures may have been created that can manage without air of any sort. Why not, if these were the conditions into which they were introduced? But this is a subject about which we could argue for a long time. Let us to bed, for an early start in the morning.'
Presently, his head in a whirl, Rex followed his father to their room. He still found it difficult to believe that this was really happening, and that he had not fallen asleep on the hill to dream it.
'What do you make of the Professor?' he asked, when they were alone.
'He's either a genius or a crank,' was the answer. 'Tomorrow we shall know which it is.
Either way, we've had an interesting evening — better than spending it on the mountain.'
3 Space and the
Spacemaster
The following morning Rex was up with the lark, his head still full of their strange adventure. Without waiting for Tiger he went down to find the Professor up before him.
With an ancient dressing-gown over his pyjamas, he was in the study scribbling notes while he drank a cup of tea. He went on writing for a minute or two, and then, apparently having finished, he put down the pen and looked up with a little grimace of self-reproach. 'Disgraceful of me to come down like this, but you know how it is,' he said sadly. 'If you don't make a note while it's fresh in your mind you're likely to forget it. At least, I do. Did you sleep well?'
'To tell the truth, sir, I was a long time going to sleep,' answered Rex frankly. couldn't help thinking about what you told us.'
The Professor chuckled. 'You know, that's what happens to me. I'm always puzzling over one problem or another. What exactly were you thinking about?'
'What you said about interplanetary flight. I found there were several things not very clear — the difference between a star and a planet, for instance.'
'Quite simple. A star is like the Sun. In fact, it is a sun, because it produces its own light.
A planet has no light of its own. Like the Moon, it can only shine with the reflected light of the Sun.'
'Thank you, sir. Being an air cadet I thought I knew a lot about aviation. Now it seems I know very little after all.'
Àh, you're still confusing aeronautics with astronautics. That won't do because they have very little in common. They present entirely different problems, although, to be sure, with
these new high speeds they're getting closer to each other. These supersonic jet planes are soon going to set some pretty puzzles. Not only are they going faster than sound but they'll soon be overtaking Time. For instance, a plane leaving here just after dark and flying westwards at seven hundred miles an hour would find itself flying into the previous day's daylight. People will have to be careful or they'll find themselves arriving at their destination before they start.' The Professor's eyes twinkled. Sounds silly, doesn't it? But it's true, because Time is determined by wherever you happen to be. Another thing. If you set off in a fast plane and headed south, and I took off in another and headed north, you might think we were flying away from each other.'
'Wouldn't we be?'
'For a little while perhaps. But because the World is round we should also be flying towards each other, and might meet head on if we didn't watch out. If we both set off north we shouldn't be able to go far because there wouldn't be any more north. There wouldn't be any east or west either; because when we got to the Pole, whichever way we went we should be going south. Of course, this queer state of affairs always did exist, but when men travelled slowly it didn't matter. But these tremendous modern speeds are going to make artificial divisions, like Time, and Latitude and Longitude, so complicated, that we shall have to work out new ones.'
Rex nodded. I can see that.'
'In the outer spaces things are going to be even more difficult to grasp,' went on the Professor. 'Not only will there be no points of the compass, but Time, as we measure it here, will cease to exist. We know that a day on Earth is twenty-four hours, roughly twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of darkness. What will happen when we get to the Moon, where the day is twenty-seven of our days long? Imagine fourteen consecutive days of daylight! One afternoon on the Moon will be seven of our days long. Everything else will be just as con fusing. The thing we call weight, which is no more than a handy measurement for the pull of gravity, won't make sense any more. Weight, like Time, depends on where you are. For instance, if you had a pound of plums on Earth, on the Moon they would only weigh three
ounces, because the Moon being so much smaller, gravity is so much less. But don't worry. You'd have just as many plums to eat. That's why in astronautics we no longer talk of weight, but of mass, which is the only thing that matters. It is even more difficult to imagine no weight at all, but I shall pass through those conditions on my way to the Moon. Everything will stay where it is put. Nothing can fall. Water won't pour, so it'll be no use trying to pour it down your throat. To drink I shall have to suck — up or down, it doesn't matter which. Strictly speaking, in space there is no up nor down. On Earth we always talk of falling dawn; but in space we're just as likely to fall up. Even that is only relatively speaking, because not only are we and the other planets spinning round the Sun, but the whole Solar System is spinning through space, with the result that you are at this moment about half a million miles away from where you were this time last night.' The Professor laughed at the expression on Rex's face.
'It all sounds pretty hopeless to me,' was all Rex could say. 'Not at all, my boy. We shall get over these little difficulties.' Tiger came into the room.
Àh ! Good morning to you,' greeted the Professor cheerfully. 'We've just been having a little chat about some of the queer things that will happen to a man who finds himself in space.'
'It's simply fantastic,' Rex told his father.
`No — no,' disputed the Professor. 'The fundamental laws of nature will remain unchanged. It's just a matter of adjusting ourselves to conditions which we earth-bound mortals have never encountered.'
You're hoping actually to land on the Moon?' queried Tiger.
'Not on my first trip. That will be a serious undertaking. First I shall explore the intervening space. Then I hope to have a close look at the Moon, particularly the far side, which no one has yet seen. It may not be easy to find a landing place, for the Moon is certainly not the lovely thing that poets and song writers would have us believe. Through our telescopes we see only a mountainous wilderness of sterile earth and rocks pitted with tens of thousands of enormous holes, which may be volcanic craters or the result of bombardment by meteorites. I'm not afraid of meteorites. Space is a big place, and the chances of collision are negligible. Few meteors are larger than a pea, although there are big ones, of course. But to go through even a cloud of meteoric dust might well be an alarming experience. I have a device ready should my cabin be punctured. But Judkins will be here at any moment to say that breakfast is served. I must hurry and get myself dressed.'
01 Kings Of Space Page 3