Chalet in the Sky

by Albert Robida

  “What did you say, Uncle?”

  “I said that here, once, a very long time ago—perhaps hundreds of thousands of years—, and well before the birth of humankind, before all the cave-dwellers and our remote prehistoric ancestors—was the Moon…”

  Andoche and Moderan looked at one another. “Our Moon? The true one?”

  “It’s not me who affirms it, it’s the scientists. Oh, that must have been an upheaval greater than the arrival of Astra, the departure of a fragment of our globe at the moment of a dislocation of the terrestrial carcass, caused by some explosion of the central fire. Try to imagine that! Explosions, eruptions, upheavals, more explosions…suddenly the Earth bursts, a fragment is separates and sets off into space, a monstrous projectile, which cannot escape terrestrial gravitational attraction and, having become a satellite of the Earth, begins to follow it in its course, rotating around it. And there you are! The Earth has lost a large part of itself, but it has gained a faithful companion for its eternal journey through space.”

  “The night-star so precious to poets!” said Andoche.

  “And what economy of lighting, for so many centuries!” said Moderan. “Try to calculate it!”

  “Yes, but let’s not forget Astra, uncle!” said Andoche. “It’s very empty, immensely empty, here—there are no reference-points. Aren’t we going to get lost over these infinite waves? Have you made sure of our course, Uncle?”

  “Now that we’ve admired it properly and our eyes are sufficiently drunk on space, we can go back to our apparatus.”

  Melanie, who had been listening with Babylas in her arms, looked alternately at the sky and the sea, frowning anxiously, hugging and caressing the cat and groaning in a whisper: “My poor Babylas! My poor Babylas!”

  “What’s wrong, Melanie?” asked Monsieur Cabrol.

  “Nothing, Monsieur. I’m talking to Babylas to reassure him. Poor plump beast! Perhaps I was wrong to bring him. You said, Monsieur, that the Moon was going to come out of that big hole down there below us—or that it was going to fall into it…I don’t know; I didn’t quite grasp it…”

  “No, Melanie—reassure yourself and reassure Babylas; it happened a long time ago, so long that scientists can’t specify the number of centuries, not knowing how to count so high!”

  “Oh, good!” said Melanie, uttering a sigh of relief. “I don’t trust scientists…I’m afraid of them. But I’m tranquil again if it’s as old as that, and I can go and prepare my lunch. In five minutes, Monsieur, the pills will be served…”

  “Very good! The pure fresh air has given us an appetite.”

  Monsieur Cabrol was already at the controls; he made a note of the heading shown by the indicator, rectified the course slightly, and checked the speed. Everything was going well; it was half an hour after noon; by 2 p.m., they would be flying over Astra—and they were able to go to table in total tranquility, idling at length after the coffee pills while awaiting their arrival.

  The sky remained limpid, still a cloudless azure, but the sea as no longer so empty. A few islands were perceptible in the distance, minuscule green patches that had to be part of the Marquesas archipelago. Andoche jumped for joy; they were getting nearer. The needle of the indicator was turning rapidly. Another quarter of an hour of fidgeting n the balcony, wearing out the eyes searching the brightness.

  Finally, three exclamations resounded, answered by Melanie’s squeal and Babylas’ miaow. Astra was in view. Phanor, who had been sleeping in perfect serenity, rolled between his master’s legs, jumped to his feet and barked. Like all dogs accustomed to traveling, or trips in aircraft, he barked at the sky, running on the balcony, looking to see whether some visitor might be arriving by air.

  They were beginning to make out Astra: an indistinct patch, at first, which grew larger and became gradually clearer, until a light and vaporous silhouette was outlined. Finally, the whole ensemble appeared: a large mountainous island, long and irregular, with extraordinarily uneven shores, rapidly elevating sheer slopes furrowed by undulating or zigzagging ravines, then bare Sun-burned plateaux, rust-colored rocks surging forth in the midst of hick forests, and, looming over everything in the center of the island, an enormous mountain surrounded by a girdle of bizarrely-shaped reddish peaks.

  “It’s even better than the Caucasian Archipelago!” Andoche exclaimed. “Let’s land right away.”

  XV. Arrival on Astra Island.

  Monsieur Cabrol moderated their speed, however, and descended to 500 meters, in order not to miss any details of the architecture of the extraordinary island, and to carry out a preliminary reconnaissance before touching down on the mysterious soil.

  “My dear Andoche, one doesn’t venture forth in such a place without first looking where one’s putting one’s feet. What do we know about it? Nothing very certain. What is this traveling island? Where did it me from? According to the most up-to-date opinion of the scientists, it’s a fragment of the planet Mars. I’d like to….”

  “That’s been known for 20 years,” said the impatient Andoche.

  “I’d like to…but what shall we find among these rocks, in these ravines, in the depths of these wild-seeming woods? I’d like to study it for a while before taking any risks. What will we encounter?”

  “Fossils,” said Andoche, bursting into laughter.

  “With you, at the Museum,” said Moderan, “I’ve seen skeletons of animals as extraordinary in shape as in size.”

  “Fabulous livestock which came from here.”

  “Yes, but if, by chance, in one of these jolly corners riddled with caves and holes that don’t bode well to me, we suddenly come across nose to muzzle, or nose to trunk, with one of those pretty creatures with frightful mouths and the horns of a super-rhinoceros, beneath its fangs and claws, what will you say to excuse the indiscretion of your visit?”

  “You’re joking, Uncle.”

  “I’m not laughing at all. I’m only remembering what happened to the first visitors, a few days after Astra’s fall. You don’t know? What does one learn at school these days? What does your Tele-Universal University teach you?”

  “Everything, but in order.”

  “We haven’t reached modern history yet, and Astra is only 20 years old.”

  “Then you don’t know what happened. Listen—it’s a stirring little adventure. At the first news of Astra’s arrival, England hastened to send a large airship to take possession of it. Its men disembarked, and their first concern was to erect a mast on a high cliff, with a flag flying as high as possible, while they sent radio messages to announce that they had taken possession. All went well; there was nothing more to do but await a governor and people.

  “What happened? No one knows. That very night, the entire crew was devoured by ferocious beasts and the dirigible moored on the beach was ripped apart. That was observed by a second dirigible, this one American, which arrived in the early hours of the morning, also to take possession. Seized with horror at the sight of the debris of the English expedition, the Americans had started searching for possible survivors, when they were attacked in their turn by all the ferocious beasts of the entire region, which had converged on the landing-ground.”

  “Uh-oh!”

  “And without a doubt, there was no one left. No one knows anything about that, because the American expedition was also devoured in its entirety, as a third airship was able to observe, which flew over the battleground that same evening, just as the ferocious beasts, satiated, were beginning to go to sleep on the remains of the feast. That third expedition was Japanese; it had, therefore, the good fortune to be warned before disembarking, as to what awaited it. It was immediately embroiled in conflict.

  The dirigible stayed 25 meters above the ground; the battlefield was a terrible sight, swarming with unknown beasts crawling or fluttering over the bones, howling and yapping with the voices of cracked trumpets, quarrelling over the horrible debris; there were long bodies armored with large scales, massive beasts half-cayman and ha
lf-rhinoceros, armed with enormous clawed feet, and serpents with short legs and the membranous wings of bats. All that terrifying swarm of filthy beasts woke up at the sight of the Japanese dirigible; the horned muzzles were raised in the air and began a concert of covetous howling; paws stretched out toward the new prey that had arrived, and long scaly bodies uncoiled, ready to attack. A few pterodactyls took off, trying to fly up to the dirigible.

  “Damn!” said Andoche. “Fortunately, the Japanese were on their guard.”

  “And also ready to attack! They had electric machine-guns and two cannons firing paralyzing shells, and when they opened fire on the swarming mass of monsters, it must have been a fine spectacle.”

  “I’d like to have seen that!” said Andoche.

  “The pterodactyls, which were beating their wings furiously to climb, and some of which succeeded in catching hold of the dirigible by the nails of their membranes, were also struck down, and fell back among the hideous monsters that were writhing desperately on the ground.”

  “And what became of the Japanese dirigible?”

  “The men, full of ardor, joyful at their triumph, took stock of the infernal game they had shot, finishing off those which, in their last spasms, were trying to bite a leg or unleash a thrust of a horn, or one last kick of their powerfully-armed feet. A few of the monsters had been hit by the paralyzing projectiles; they made haste to separate those out and photograph them from every angle before carefully chaining them up, according to the instructions they had been given.

  “A few of the monsters had been able to escape the slaughter—mainly reptiles, which had taken refuge in holes in the rocks. A contingent of the crew gave chase.

  “How do you know that, Uncle?”

  “From the report of the Japanese expedition itself. It caused a sensation 20 years ago. Many curiosity-seekers were preparing to make excursions to the new isle at that time; the report cooled them down somewhat. Only lovers of big game hunting, deprived of violent cynegetic delights since the extinction of the last ferocious beasts in Africa, and scientists ardently inflamed by the idea of a fragment of an unknown plant to study, solicited authorization from the Japanese government to land on the dangerous ground—for Japan had immediately taken possession and sent colonists with a governor and a commission of scientists. After occupying Astra, the Japanese strove to clear the island of game, to purge it, in the manner of Hercules, of its monsters, which were as dangerous as they were interesting—but the island is large, and it has a very extensive coastline, with rocky fissures extending into and becoming confused with the gorges of shattered mountains: all conditions favorable to the survival of those nightmare beasts. So…”

  “So, Uncle, we’re going to select a little treeless spot, tranquil in appearance, to moor our Villa Beauséjour?”

  “No, first we’re going to Astraville, the capital, to get our papers stamped and obtain a license to stay. There, we’ll find all the necessary information, plus a certain amount of advice that won’t be useless to us.”

  “Look, Uncle—some houses down below!”

  Moderan, who was searching the coast with his binoculars, pointed to white patches and red roofs, a few kilometers away at the most.

  Monsieur Cabrol consulted a small map of the island, on which only a few locations were marked.

  “We’re arriving at the North-West coast, that’s certain—that must be the island’s capital. There aren’t many inhabited places. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

  The Villa veered slightly to the right and proceeded slowly, along a coast punctuated by narrow fjords, cliff-lined fissures and larger coves, strewn with sharp rocks, on beds of shingle or sand. Monsieur Cabrol sent a radio message, giving his name and his port of origin, to alert Astraville. A few minutes later, the Villa Beauséjour was hovering over a slightly larger cove, through which a little stream, winding through reeds, descended in cascades from a distant brush-covered mountain.

  Monsieur Cabrol was struck by the Japanese appearance of the site: steep crags, bizarrely twisted small trees, a rivulet strewn with little rocks, describing its curves between tall reeds and clumps of flowers and lily-pads: an entire landscape extracted from Japanese albums of long ago; a Hokusai print.

  “It’s very pleasant!” said Monsieur Cabrol.

  “And over there,” said Moderan, “the central peak of the island—one might imagine it as Fujiyama, to complete the resemblance.”

  On one side of the main square they perceived a landing-ground where a few miniplanes were sheltering under a marquee.

  The Villa Beauséjour came gently to rest. A few Japanese ran forward very obligingly to assist its maneuvering.

  Monsieur Cabrol was flattered; they seemed to be looking at the Villa Beauséjour admiringly. These people, so far away from everything else, did not see many others apart from the rare airships of the South American lines, and they were glad to receive unexpected visitors.

  As soon as he was on the ground, Monsieur Cabrol sought information, without the need for an interpreter, using the international dialect—a mixture of French, Italian, English, Spanish, Japanese, and even Latin.

  “Are we in Astraville? Good! I need to ask for a permit for a short stay. Will I be able to see the governor?”

  “Certainly, Monsieur—there’s the Governor’s palace, the red house over there, where the flag is flying.”

  It was only a short walk away. Leaving the Villa in Melanie’s care, Monsieur Cabrol went to ring the doorbell of the governor’s house. The latter was contemplating the Villa Beauséjour from his balcony.

  The radio had given forewarning of the arrival; he received the visitors amiably.

  “We don’t often have visitors in Astra, my dear Monsieur,” the governor said, “And I’m delighted to welcome you. Your first impression is good?”

  “Very good—your island seems to me to be extremely picturesque, and I hope you will oblige me with some advice as to our excursions. We’ve come from Paris, with the intention of traveling for a few years, in order to escape the annoyance and the noise of the immense works undertaken for the great resurfacing of old Europe, which is in much need of it. In your refuge, so tranquil in the middle of the Pacific, you can have no suspicion, Monsieur le Gouverneur, of the noise of the upheaval…

  “Our intention is to stay here for a while, time to study the unknown nature of this traveling island, which, after having orbited our Earth for 60 years, came to settle—so to speak—on the deep bed of the Pacific, beneath this magnificent sky.”

  “Magnificent,” the governor repeated.

  “First of all, Monsieur le Gouverneur, have you any idea of where Astra came from, to set down here? Do you think that it is a fragment of the planet Mars, as certain astronomers have suggested?”

  “It’s quite probable; Mars is our nearest neighbor.”

  “We’re very glad to be on the soil of another planet, and we’re going to take some long walks. Is there any danger, Monsieur le Gouverneur?”

  The governor became serious. “I’ll indicate to you, Monsieur, the regions of the island where you can go abroad without danger…while always remaining on guard, however. They’re not very numerous, as you can see this map that we’ve drawn up. I’ll also point out the regions where the risk of unfortunate encounters is great, then the parts marked ‘considerable danger’ and those which are absolutely forbidden, because no one ever comes back from them.”

  “We shan’t go there!” exclaimed Moderan.

  The governor smiled. “We’ve posted notices: Entry forbidden, without adding, on pain of a fine—a futile penalty, since no one comes back to pay it.”

  “Then there are still ferocious beasts on Astra?” said Monsieur Cabrol. “That’s very interesting, from a scientific viewpoint. Wild beasts very different, no doubt, from those of our old world?”

  “Very!” said the governor. “A jolly collection—a wide variety of species heavily armed for combat; we know something about them, because
for 15 years, since the first day of our arrival m Astra, we’ve been trying to get rid of them. A huge task, Monsieur, but interesting, from a scientific viewpoint…

  “In the 15 years that our scientific commissions, our geologists and naturalists, have been exploring Astra in all direction—guarded by solid escorts, of course—we’ve been able to establish a few facts. Firstly, the isle was detached from a planet less advanced in its evolution than our old Earth; that planet was only in a period corresponding approximately to our Secondary Era. It has therefore brought us a Secondary Era fauna. It transported through the ether, very much alive, all the strange beasts that we only know as more or less complete skeletons discovered in excavations of the successive strata of the ground. Those enormous fantastic animals, whose restored skeletons you have seen in Museums: armored or scaly beasts, armed with long sharp claws, with horns on the end of the nose, backs bristling with spikes, membranous wings…”

  “More and more interesting,” said Monsieur Cabrol.

  “Well, if those beasts interest you, it will be easy for you to encounter them in a complete state, alive—all too alive—by straying into the mountains. But I don’t advise it, for you’ll be able acquaint yourselves with them without risk soon enough, in a little zoological garden established behind my house, where we keep the results of our hunts, the animals caught in our traps, and dead animals dissected and mounted by our employees. Those are destined to be sent to Tokyo, after which they’ll be generously redistributed. We’re supplying them to all the Museums n the world.”

  “I know,” said Monsieur Cabrol.

  “But dusk is falling. Stay in the garage for now and tomorrow morning, while giving you your temporary residence permit, I’ll be glad to show you the little Astraville Museum…”