The Return of the Nyctalope

by Jean de La Hire

  All the voyagers knew that, for they had been well instructed as to the special conditions in which their voyage would be accomplished. Nevertheless, they could not help feeling a certain astonishment. One does not realize immediately that one is traveling at a fantastic speed when ne feels that one is motionless and sees everything motionless around one.

  Finally, the silence and stillness were broken. Saint-Clair said:

  “Open the forward portholes, Soca.”

  In fact, accommodated within the mass of the Z-4 that formed the front of the Olb.-I were two portholes. They were not covered by movable lead panels but strong aluminum shields. By means of an admirably-designed mechanism, the external shield opened when the internal shield as opened. The crystal windows of these portholes were even thicker than those of the lateral portholes. One of them—the one on the right—was a magnifying lens analogous to the lenses of he most powerful telescopes, with the consequence that, because the Olb.-I was flying directly toward Rhea, the travelers could see the planet as it appeared to the naked eye through the porthole on the left without any diminution of distance, but through the porthole on the right they could see the planet greatly magnified, enabling them to determine the details of its structure in advance.

  Then the seven voyagers, grouped at the forward porthole on the left, had the impression that they were traveling through space—and impression produced by the sight of Rhea, visibly increasing in size from one second to the next.

  And after that, nothing happened—nothing at all.

  It might be difficult to imagine that the most extraordinary voyage that humans had ever undertaken would be devoid of any incident, and even, strictly speaking, anything picturesque.

  Launched further and further way from the Earth toward Rhea by virtue of the attraction exerted by that planet on the Olb.-I, the enormous vehicle progressed through space in a straight line, without any noise or shock. The woman and the men that it was transporting could not see anything through the lateral portholes any other scenery than the infinity of starry space. Moreover, the displacement was so rapid that the stars always seemed to be the same. Through the porthole, however, one could see Rhea gradually increasing in size, with the consequence that it was the only spectacle to which the seven occupants of the Olb.-I sought out with a passionate avidity. They all assembled in the control room, and they passed alternately from the porthole on the left to the one on the right, the first normal, the second magnifying. In the latter, the planet appeared increasingly similar to what one might imagine that the Earth would be if it were seen from hundreds of leagues away: mountains, plains, seas—or, rather, extents that must be liquid mass similar to our seas and oceans.

  “What’s curious,” Véronique said, suddenly, “is the color. Everything on Rhea is yellow, an increasingly bright yellow—the color of buttercups, for example.”

  “Indeed,” said Gno Mitang.

  For the next quarter of an hour, no words were pronounced. Everyone’s thoughts were simultaneously perplexed and tumultuous. They did not know what to say because there was too much to say. A thousand hypotheses were seething in their minds. Saint-Clair, however, whose practicality was never abolished no matter how extravagant the circumstances were, turned his back on the forward portholes, looking from left to right at Véronique and his companions and said, with a smile:

  “I believe, Véronique, that it would be a good idea to have a meal; I’m hungry.”

  “That’s true,” said the young woman, laughing. “I wasn’t thinking about that any longer.”

  She ran toward the central compartment, which served simultaneously as a work-room, a meeting-room and a dining-room. She and Vitto had already laid the table immediately after departure; food brought from Monsieur d’Olbans château made up a cold meal. That evening, they drank the champagne that Saint-Clair, a connoisseur of good wines, had selected specially. The seats were stools, both light and solid. They each took their places, three on one side, three on the other and Véronique at the end of the table. Vitto and Soca got up from time to time to serve. And that was the first meal that he voyagers had in the spacious and comfortable vehicle, which was carrying them through the stratosphere at a velocity of a kilometer a second, 60 kilometers a minute, 3600 kilometers an hour.

  The atmosphere in the vehicle was maintained by an apparatus that produced oxygen and absorbed carbon dioxide; another electrical apparatus maintained a constant temperature of eighteen degrees. If the voyage had to be prolonged for several days more, the air apparatus would not be sufficient to regenerate the atmosphere constantly; it would be necessary to bring another apparatus into play, more powerful, more productive and more absorptive, which was being kept in reserve in case the atmosphere of Rhea was not completely suited to human lungs and it proved quite impossible to adapt themselves to it.

  The diners had a keen appetite, although they had lunched well at the Château d’Olbans, because their vital machinery had been singularly excited, without their being conscious of it. They were exceptionally cheerful; the most innocent words made them laugh, and even Fageat, the somber and taciturn Ariste Fageat, became a merry companion. Gno Mitang, who was watching him carefully, did not catch a glimpse of the slightest expression that was in any way suspicious.

  Thus they arrived sat the moment when 12 silvery chimes were sounded by the large chronometer in the control-room.

  “Midnight!” exclaimed Véronique. And without any other motive she burst out laughing. She got up, went into the control-room and went to stand before the magnifying lens.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed. “We’re going to crash.”

  But Saint-Clair, who had immediately followed her, placed his hand gently on her shoulder and said:

  “No—that’s the effect of the telescopic lens. Come to the other porthole.”

  Gno Mitang, Fageat, Vitto, Soca and Margot were behind them, and they all contemplated Rhea, sometimes with the naked eyes and sometimes through the magnifying lens.

  Gradually, however, fatigue crept up on them, and in the end, they could not resist it. Saint-Clair declared that he would remain on watch for two hours, and would then wake up Gno Mitang, who, in his turn, would wake Soca, who would be replaced by Vitto. The watch rota having thus been established for the next eight hours, everyone went either to their cabin or their couchette. And with the Nyctalope alone staying up, the Olb.-I continued to hurtle toward the planet, which was now dark, almost invisible, for it was no longer receiving the direct rays of the Sun, hidden from it behind the Earth.

  Chapter IV

  The Arrival

  LeoSaint-Clair was endowed with a powerful and vivid imagination, but he knew how to discipline it. He did not repress its leaps—no, he waited for each one to complete its entire trajectory and extend all its ramifications. Then he submitted it to cold, lucid and severe criticism. That gave him the advantage of not living in his illusions, while conjecturing logically with regard to the future. Thus he was generally able to regulate his conduct in advance, while being ready to adapt, in matters of detail, to actual events as they unfolded.

  During the two hours of his watch, while Rhea grew in size before him by the minute, bathed in a sort of nebulous obscurity, but nevertheless sufficiently visible for him to observe it—for the Nyctalope, of course, darkness did not exist, and he had taken care to put out all the electric lamps in the control room—Saint-Clair amused himself by imagining rationally what conditions might be like for Earthly humans on the alien world.

  Like the body, the mind has its sensualities, perhaps more intense and certainly more durable. It is no exaggeration to say that, during those two hours, LeoSaint-Clair experienced the most intense mental sensualities of his life.

  And it was as if he were gripped by vertigo when, the hour having chimed that brought him back to immediate contingencies, he went to wake Gno Mitang.

  “Nothing to declare,” he told him. “Everything is normal; everything is as Maxime d’Olbans and I a
nticipated.”

  “Very good,” said the Japanese.

  Arranged on both sides of the corridor that linked the central chamber to the crew quarters, placed in front of the parlor and kitchen, the four cabins resembled the compartments of a railways sleeping-car, each having only one bunk. The strict necessities were provided there to dress and wash, and also to create a personal ambiance with sections on the wall to which photographs or small pictures could be attached, bookshelves, a small table, a linen-cupboard and a minuscule but adequate wardrobe.

  On the starboard side of the Olb.-I were Saint-Clair’s cabin and that of Véronique d’Olbans; on the port side, those of Gno Mitang and Ariste Fageat. As for the crew-quarters, it contained, with their accessories, four comfortable hammocks, three of which were employed by Vitto, Soca and Jean Margot, the fourth remaining rolled up and suspended from a stout iron ring in the ceiling.

  Like his companions, Saint-Clair was tired, for no one in Monsieur d’Olbans’ château had got much sleep in the last few days. Scarcely had he lain down on his bunk in his pajamas than he fell into a calm and profound sleep—and a long one! When every voyager except Véronique had taken a turn on watch, Saint-Clair was only woken up, by Vitto, ten hours after going to sleep. It was the kind of child-like sleep, perfectly restful and reparative, on emergence from which a healthy man, whatever his age, feels 20 years younger.

  “August 31, noon,” he pronounced, looking at his wristwatch as soon as his eyes were open.

  Formally, Vitto announced:

  “Monsieur, Mademoiselle d’Olbans reminds you that lunch will be served at 12:30 a.m.”

  “Very good. Anything new?”

  “Nothing, Monsieur. The voyage is continuing without any shock. We’re beginning to see the relief of the hemisphere that Rhea is presenting to us. It’s like the Earth, except that there are enormous vapors in the depths.”

  “You’re unusually loquacious today, Vitto!” said Saint-Clair, smiling.

  “Excuse me, Monsieur,” said the Corsican, humbly—who was, indeed, ordinarily taciturn and given to monosyllabic speech. “I believe it results from the air apparatus giving off too much oxygen. It’s intoxicating. Monsieur Fageat agrees with me; he’s in the process of regulating the apparatus.”

  “Good. Let me get dressed—I’ll be there in a quarter of an hour.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Saint-Clair came into the central compartment.

  “Bonjour, Véronique!” he said, softly.

  The young woman, alone for the moment, was arranging some magnificent roses in a vase on the table, still damp as if from morning dew, which seemed only to have been picked a few minutes before. Swiftly, she turned round, dropping the flowers, smiling and blushing, so visibly happy that LeoSaint-Clair immediately felt a pang of joy.

  With a simultaneous movement, they extended their hands, and, Saint-Clair retaining Véronique’s in his, they looked at one another, at first without speaking, for a moment, during which their fluids interpenetrated, revealing to each of them their own thoughts and the other’s. Then the man, opening his hand nervously, said:

  “Did you sleep well during that first interplanetary night, Véronique?”

  The young woman withdrew her tremulous fingers.

  “Very well—but that’s not surprising. So much emotion before and after the departure from Earth! I couldn’t do any more. I slept like a stone. What about you?”

  “Like a rock.”

  After these banal words they no longer dared look at one another. They were afraid of pronouncing other words; they felt confusedly that neither the time nor the place was appropriate.

  Turning away slightly, Véronique said:

  “Do you like my flowers? They have a dawn-like freshness, don’t they? That’s thanks to Vitto; he had the idea of putting the freshest of the hundred roses I brought in buckets full of water at the back of the rearmost store-room. By the way, will we find flowers on Rhea? That’s a question I should have asked my uncle.”

  She burst out laughing.

  Excess oxygen, thought Saint-Clair—and he laughed too, before replying:

  “Your uncle would have told you that it’s possible.”

  “Is that all?” said Véronique, shrugging her shoulders. “That wouldn’t have been a reply, for everything’s possible.”

  Again the man looked directly at the young woman, and said, gravely:

  “Yes, everything’s possible… everything… since you’re here with me.”

  “And for you, Leo,” she said simply.

  Radiant, he opened his arms. Smiling and suddenly pale, she was already launching herself into them—but a door opened and Fageat appeared, saying, immediately:

  “Monsieur! His Excellency is asking for you. The planet...”

  “I’m coming,” Saint-Clair cut in.

  He walked rapidly. The engineer stood aside to let him pass, and followed him immediately, after enveloping Mademoiselle d’Olbans with a strange gaze. She had immediately got a grip on herself, and was leaning toward the roses, reaching out her hands as if to rearrange them.

  “Bonjour, Saint-Clair!” said Gno Mitang. “Are you well?”

  “Entirely. You too, from what I can see.”

  “Yes.”

  Addressing the engineer, however, who was standing two paces behind the Nyctalope, the Japanese added, smiling:

  “Monsieur Fageat, I heard you say ‘His Excellency’ in referring to me. You ought, in future, to say simply ‘Monsieur Mitang.’ Only one of us, henceforth, has any right to a title, and that is Monsieur Saint-Clair. That title is ‘Captain’ or ‘Boss,’ as you please.”

  Everyone was there to hear: Vitto, Soca, Margot and also Véronique, who was coming into the control room from the central chamber at that moment.

  Immediately, Gno Mitang continued:

  “Saint-Clair, look at the planet through the telescopic porthole. Something’s happening there. I’ve been wondering for a quarter of an hour what it might signify.”

  Because of the magnifying power of the enormous telescopic lens, only a small part of Rhea could be seen through the porthole. That region appeared to be wooded, with numerous valleys, at least so far as it was possible to form an idea of the new world based on the terrestrial knowledge to which human are accustomed. To the eyes of Saint-Clair and his companions, those valleys and woods were appearing and disappearing alternately, as perfectly opaque white vapors formed and quickly dissipated again.

  “The strangest thing,” said the Nyctalope, “is that the vapors seem to be springing from the ground of the planet, sometimes here, sometimes there, as if by some unknown hazard.”

  “Yes,” said Gno Mitang. “And what is striking is that they’re stirred up, dissipated and annihilated immediately after their eruption and their cloudy expansion in the atmosphere; there must be a wind—a regular and violent wind, which only blows at a certain height above the ground of Rhea.

  “It puts one in mind of geysers,” said Fageat, in a timidly reserved tone.

  “Exactly!” Saint-Clair approved. “But geysers of which one can’t see the source—the orifice—and which erupt here and there, I repeat, according to some unknown hazard… or law?”

  There was a pause.

  Suddenly, Véroniqe said:

  “How far away are we from the planet?”

  It was Gno Mitang who replied, with an affectionate smile:

  “We’ve been flying toward Rhea since 6 p.m. yesterday at a speed of 3600 kilometers per second. It’s 12:30 a.m. We’re therefore in the 19th hour of our journey; we have about 68,400 kilometers behind us. Rhea being 380,000 kilometers from the Earth, 311,600 kilometers therefore remain for us to travel. In consequence, if nothing unexpected occurs, our voyage will last about another 86 hours.”

  A few minutes after these words, at 12:36 a.m. exactly, while they were observing the vaporous phenomena of Rhea, silently and meditatively, the interplanetary voyagers began to feel the effects of their progressiv
e entry into a world that was not that of their native Earth. Was that because the air-purification apparatus aboard the Olb.-I was poorly regulated?

  First the propensity to hilarity, already observed, increased to the point at which they burst out laughing for no apparent reason. At the same time they entered into a sort of unconsciousness that soon rendered them inapt for observation, reflection and the logical extrapolation of their actions. Then their bodies became light, to the point that they seemed to be floating in the air, while, the center of gravity being displaced, they and all the objects around them—all the mobile objects, at least—were on the point of falling and making contact, no longer with the floor of their vehicle but with the forward partition-wall. That caused a material disorder that increased the confusion of their minds.

  They ate and drank that day while laughing and catching dishes and bottle in mind-air that flew from the table as if by some marvelous conjuring trick. That was their last meal, and also their final moments of consciousness. Perhaps they had fallen into a kind of slumber?

  Slumber or something else, that state lasted for a number of hours that they did not think of calculating when they “awoke.”

  Véronique was the first to benefit from that return to life and mobility—perhaps because she was the youngest, because she had an entire physical organism that was newer, healthier and more intact than that of each of her traveling companions.

  Shortly after she acquired that new consciousness of existence, the young woman had the sensation of a heavy weight on her legs and her left shoulder. She opened her eyes. To begin with, she saw that everything around her was bathed by a white, limpid but slightly nebulous light, and that everything was in a fantastic state of disorder.

  She was lying on her back across the bodies of Vitto and Soca, which were lying side by side. To her left, Saint-Clair was stretched out, his head weighing on her shoulder. The weight she had on her legs was Gno Mitang’s torso. Finally, to her right, their arms and legs entangled, were Monsieur Fageat and Jean Margot.