All seven had for a “bed” one of the forward portholes of the Olb.-I: the telescopic porthole.
Mademoiselle d’Olbans required a few minutes to take account of all that. Her amazement was great—but at the same time, her intelligence was reassured, for she experienced, by virtue of her observations themselves, an increasing mental lucidity.
The first movement she attempted was to free her legs, which she disengaged easily. By means of the second she wanted to liberate her left shoulder, but first she turned her head in order to look at Saint-Clair again. She had never seen the man’s face asleep: a fine and energetic visage, which age had not yet begun to wither, and to which the state of sleep gave a juvenile serenity.
Véronique had a womanly thought then; with a swift glance around she reassured herself that she really was awake. Then, leaning sideways, she placed her lips gently on Saint-Clair’s. In the first loving kiss that she had ever given to a man, the young woman experienced a great disturbance. She indulged herself, eyes closed. She savored the warm softness, the fleshy firmness of the man’s immobile lips. She thought about the kiss that she would one day—she was convinced of it!—receive from those lips. And she drew away, shivering, slid sideways so as no longer to be on top of the bodies of Soca and Vitto, and finally rose to her feet
She was standing with her feet on the crystal of the porthole. Around the six men felled, in strange positions, by the enigmatic sleep were all the mobile objects contained in the vehicle, whose doors were open, spread out and heaped up pell-mell, including broken plates and glasses. The left-hand porthole was completely covered by them, obstructed...
Surprised and striving to understand, Véronique said to herself: Everything here is subject to the attraction of Rhea. Everything is “falling” toward it, by virtue of what we call on Earth “The law of gravity.”
Thinking about Rhea in this fashion, she lowered her head toward the porthole.
“My God!” she cried. “We’re falling!”
Her blood froze. All she could see was the ground—that of the planet Rhea, no doubt—approaching with vertiginous rapidity. The sensation of falling was given to hr be that vision, that perception. She was afraid.
“Leo! Leo!” she shouted.
It was not Saint-Clair who responded, but Jean Margot. The young man had woken up at the moment when Mademoiselle d’Olbans had gotten to her feet. His mind being both keen and cool, he had recovered consciousness quickly. Knowledgeable, he understood immediately the significance of what he was seeing. On all fours, he disengaged the handles and wheels controlling the Z-4 panels and the system for deadening the landing from human bodies and various objects. He heard the young woman’s “My God! We’re falling!” and then the appeal “Leo! Leo!” With a firm voice that was also joyful, he said:
“Don’t be afraid, Mademoiselle! The voyage is over. We’re arriving. We’ll land softly.”
Seven, eight, ten and fifteen minutes later, when Saint-Clair, Soca and Vitto, Gno Mitang and, finally, Ariste Fageat came round, the Olb.-I was immobile, positioned the right way up without any apparent damage on bright gray ground bristling with pale yellow bushes. All the portholes were sealed, had their shutters open; they could see outside, but the exterior air was not coming in. The internal atmosphere was breathable, although heavy, with a faint reek of spoiled fruits and spilled wine.
The gilded rays of the sun, full of dancing dust-particles, entering through the starboard portholes, were traversing the vehicle.
Then the profound silence was broken by Saint-Clair.
“September 4, 9 a.m. Five hours later than the time anticipated by Maxime d’Olbans, we’ve arrived on Rhea.”
Chapter V
The First Day
To see, first of all, to see the new world on which, it was true—really, incontestably true—that they had landed, as easily, in sum, as an airplane departed from Lille lands at Bordeaux…!
To see, first of all, to see…!
To the right and the left in the vehicle, in front of the portholes, the seven Terrans stood still. Here, Véronique between Saint-Clair and Gno Mitang; there, Vitto and Soca; on the other side, each alone at a porthole, Ariste Fageat and Jean Margot.
The Olb.-I was correctly posed on its take-off and landing frame, almost in the center of a clearing which was about the size of the Place de la Concorde in Paris.
Where the ground was bare, it seemed to be composed of fine sand, bright gray in color. In places it was covered with bushes of uniform height—about a meter—which were reminiscent of holly in their nature and form, but whose branches and foliage were pale yellow. Around its entire perimeter the clearing was enclosed by a forest whose trees, all similar, must have been about 20 meters high, reminiscent of terrestrial poplars but more liberally furnished with branches, also pale yellow in color. They were widely spaced and it was possible to see a long way beneath their crowns. Between the rounded trunks were bushes similar to those in the clearing.
Animal life was manifest in the form of birds—bizarre birds, with long cigar-shaped bodies, with long beaks like sword-blades and short square wings, entirely snow-white. They were flying from tree to tree with single gliding leaps, which gave an impression of extraordinary lightness.
Again, Saint-Clair was the first of the Terrans to speak.
“With regard to the possibility of the existence of life on Rhea,” he said, “Monsieur d’Olbans’ principal hypothesis is verified: there is an atmosphere here sufficiently analogous to that of the Earth, since there are plants, trees and animals. But are there beings more or les analogous to humans?”
“We’ll soon find out,” said Gno Mitang. “We only have to go out.”
“Yes, but not without taking certain precautions.”
“Naturally.”
The precautions had been anticipated. Saint-Clair gave instructions:
“Fageat, Margot—open the atmospheric intercommunication valves.”
Monsieur d’Olbans had anticipated that Rhean air, even if it were respirable by Terrans, might not have the same composition and density as Terran air. According to his observations and calculations, Rhean air ought to be much lighter and subtle—like that, for instance, found on Earth in the highest mountain regions. By opening in a progressive manner the valves constructed for that purpose and fitted at various places in the Olb.-I, the interior air could be expelled and the external air let into the vehicle. That aeration would be carried out slowly and prudently, easily increased or diminished, in such a way that the Terrans’ lungs could become accustomed to Rhean air without any mishap.
Obedient to Saint-Clair, Fageat on one side and Margot on the other operated the clockwork mechanisms controlling the graduated opening of the valves—and they waited in silence, while continuing to stare, with a kind of wonder, at the bright gray ground, the pale yellow trees and the long white birds perched here and there or flying from branch to branch.
It was soon evident that the air in the vehicle was being purified, becoming lighter and refreshed, and also—the first strange sensation given by the unknown world—perfumed. That, in particular, was so sensible that Véronique, cheerful and emotional at the same time, exclaimed:
“It smells like jasmine!” Shortly afterwards she added: “Very strong jasmine, as in the gardens of Cannes, Nice and Menton. It’s delicious!”
It was, indeed, delicious, but more because of the lightness of the air than its perfume.
“Pay attention to our movements!” said Gno Mitang, suddenly.
“Why?” asked Véronique, astonished because she could not remember any of what her uncle, on Earth, had conjectured with regard to the possible conditions of human life on Rhea.
Smiling, the Japanese replied:
“Because on Rhea, whose mass is only a sixth of Earthly mass, its diameter being five times smaller, our weight is only a sixth of what it is on Earth.”
“So I only weigh 11 kilos instead of 66?” said Soca.
“Yes,
and I repeat: pay attention! As our muscles and limbs are used to making efforts in accordance with our terrestrial weight, the result of that effort on Rhea will be six times greater. One stride will therefore launch us the distance of six; a three-meter jump will be a leap of 18. And the rapidity of our transit will, in the same way, be six times greater than what it was on Earth.”
“That will be amusing!” said Véronique.
“But it might be dangerous. We need to think about our slightest movements, until we’ve adapted our efforts to our intentions—for a badly-calculated bound might send the imprudent jumper to fracture his skull against a tree-trunk.”
Everyone laughed—and at the same time, everyone took account of the fact that Rhean air, undoubtedly richer in oxygen than terrestrial air, rendered human beings hilarious.
“That also we must remedy by an effort of will,” said Saint-Clair. “For if, as is probable, Rhea is populated by intelligent beings, more or less analogous to the human species, can you imagine us bursting into laughter in front of them, continually and inappropriately?”
“Unless they…” objected Gno Mitang.
“Yes, unless they…” repeated Véronique. She laughed—and everyone laughed again, irresistibly.
It was then that they experienced for the first time the disequilibrium between the forceful effect of bringing their muscles into play and the relative weight of their bodies.
Abruptly, the light coming in from outside changed its hue; it was slightly milky and sunlit, but suddenly became nebulous and devoid of radiance, as went one finds oneself on an Earthly mountain, in morning mist. A few minutes before, while Gno, Saint-Clair and Véronique were talking, everyone had turned away from the portholes and mechanically gathered in the middle of the vehicle. At the abrupt change in the tone of the light, they turned round, and, still mechanically, moved toward the portholes—but the movements they made, to the right or the left, threw them violently against the portholes, into which they bumped, either a forehead, a breast or a shoulder, with such brutality that they cried out in pain.
There were a few second of amazement; then Gno Mitang said:
“You see? My warning was reasonable.”
“Indeed,” said Véronique, rubbing her breasts, which had collided with the hard crystal.
Then, prudently immobile, they looked out again. Above the forest trees, the swollen mass of a vast cloud was passing, which absorbed the rays of sunlight and only diffused them as a dull and uniform light. A furious wind was stirring the cloud, but did not affect the leafy crowns of the trees, which remained perfectly still. But it was only temporary. The strange cloud suddenly presented its last enormous swirls, and then, as before, there was blue sky, rays of sunlight and bright light, slightly milky, between the trees, on the ground and inside the Olb.-I.
Almost immediately, Ariste Fageat’s voice was heard. The engineer said:
“The external air has completely replaced the air we were breathing before the valves were opened.”
There was obviously nothing comical about that; even so, the somber Fageat burst out laughing. Conscious and determined, however, he suppressed the hilarity and cut off the laughter abruptly. Like him, everyone else restrained themselves—and it was thus that the seven Terrans began to adapt to Rhean conditions of life.
Saint-Clair decided then that they should not wait any longer before going out of the Olb-I. They were breathing very well, save for a slight constant oppression, which became more sensible from time to time, inciting deeper, longer and more profound aspirations. And they felt light: as light as in dreams in which one has wings and can fly from hill to hill.
All seven were impatient to get out; none of them was hiding that impatience—but they were all reasonable, including Véronique, who realized no less than the six men how prodigiously solemn the moment was: the moment when, for the first time since the birth of the human species on Earth, within the infinite system of the cosmos, human beings, having escaped the atmosphere of their native planet, were about to try to live on the surface and in the air of another.3
Briefly, Saint-Clair gave his orders. They had, in case, been anticipated, for the present eventuality had often been envisaged in all its details in the course of conversations held in Monsieur d’Olbans’ laboratory and smoking-room.
Each of the seven voyagers, having reached their goal, was comfortably dressed according to hypothetical expectations, whose realization nothing so far seen on Rhea gave any reason to doubt. The vestments were made of sturdy fabric, with short trousers, collars that freed the neck, sufficiently ample to give the body and the limbs the greatest possible liberty of movement. Gaiters in strong fabric guaranteed against thorny bushes; gloves of solid and supple hide and colonial helmets with neck-flaps completed the costume. For weapons, they had short-barreled rifles, revolvers, hatchets and daggers, plus canes with curved handles and iron tips. For that first sortie, they did not take provisions of food, because they were not going far from the Olb.-I.
“Are you ready?” Saint-Clair asked.
“Yes, yes,” came the reply from every side.
“Good. Soca, open the right-hand door.”
The Corsican lowered the lever that controlled the hermetic seal, pulled back the bolts, turned the key, took out the key, put it in one of his pouches and, with a slow gesture, opened the door. Each of them had a similar key, in order that, in case of danger or separation, each of them could get back in without waiting for the others.
Then Saint-Clair, bowing and smiling, said:
“Véronique d’Olbans, in tribute to your uncle, thanks to whom we are here, the honor of being the first to set foot on the soil of Rhea is yours. But be careful of your movements!”
Pale with emotion, the young woman obeyed. With a certain apprehension, she leapt down from the threshold of the Olb.-I on to Rhean soil. Although restrained, the jump brought her to earth three meters away.
“Oh!” she said, unable to help laughing.
With an approximately calculated leap, Gno Mitang followed her, then Ariste Fageat, then Jean Margot, then Soca then Vitto, and finally Saint-Clair—who having not gone as far as he could, turned round to lock the door of the interplanetary vehicle with a key.
Three meters further on, the seven were reunited as a group, and Saint-Clair said to Vitto and Soca:
“You’ll bring up the rear. Every 20 meters or so, you’ll mark a tree to the right and the left with hatchet-blows. That will mark out our return route. It’s a matter of not getting lost. The pocket compass that each of us carries should be sufficient to put us on the right track.”
“Yes, Monsieur,” said the two Corsicans in unison.
And they started walking, Saint-Clair at the head, immediately followed by Gno Mitang, side by side, and behind them, Fageat and Margot.
With their backs turned to the right flank of the Olb.-I, they crossed the clearing in a few strides that were bounds of three or four meters. Their lightness delighted them. In the woods, they had to calculate their first strides precisely, in order not to bump into a tree. They observed with satisfaction that they rapidly became accustomed to walking, and they soon had no further need to discipline he movements of their limbs.
For a quarter of an hour that wood did not offer them any new aspect. The trees succeeded one another, all similar, all very nearly the same distance apart.
“It’s interesting to observe,” said Gno Mitang, “That we aren’t frightening the birds. Might they be accustomed to seeing bipeds of our kind, or very nearly, which never do them any harm?”
“Probably,” said Saint-Clair, without turning round. Immediately afterwards, he added: “Ah! The terrain’s becoming uneven. Here’s a hill.”
The hill appeared abruptly, as the walkers emerged into a new clearing after traversing a forest enclave in which the trees, more numerous and more densely packed hand interrupted their view for a few minutes.
The new clearing was much more spacious than the one in
which the Olb.-I had landed. Immediately, it offered new experiences to the ears as well as the eyes of the Terrans.
Thus far they had only heard the slight sound of their footsteps on the dead leaves that littered the soil, and the occasional hatchet-blows inflicted by Vitto and Soca on the tree-trunks. The only living things they had seen were the white birds with the long mute beaks, silent in their flight.
As soon as they emerged from the covert in which they had come to a halt, grouped on the edge of the clearing, however, they saw animals in a tightly-grouped herd running away from them, uttering shrill cries with a metallic ring. Having reached the trees on the far side of the clearing in a mater of seconds—widely-spaced trees that scaled a rocky slope, the animals hurled themselves at the tree-trunks and climbed up with extreme rapidity, disappearing into the bushy foliage. After that disappearance the silence was almost total.
“Monkeys!” Véronique exclaimed.
“Quadrumanes, at any rate,” said Gno.
“Which are afraid of us,” added Saint-Clair. “Thus, there are bipeds on Rhea that hunt those animals, even if they leave the white birds alone—but are these hypothetical biped hunters savage animals themselves, or beings analogous to our human species?”
For a few minutes the Terrans reflected, in the absolute silence of Rhean nature.
Suddenly, Saint-Clair said:
“Forward march! Let’s climb the hill.”
Between trees similar to those on the plain, but stouter and taller, thorny bushes and protruding rocks abounded. The rocks were of all shapes, from squat boulders to long monoliths, all uniformly iron-gray in color, with shiny micacious streaks. It was necessary to jump over obstacles or go around them, but the adaptation of the Terrans’ muscular strength to the lightness of their bodies was already complete, and no accident interrupted the raid climb.
The hill became quite steep, the trees less and less numerous. Finally, there was nothing but a tumultuous heap of rocks beneath an empty sky in which the sun, still high above a nebulous horizon, was just as the Terrans had seen it from their naïve world on thousands of spring or summer mornings.
The Return of the Nyctalope Page 7