The water left in the glass turned into ice, but the ice still evaporated and shrank in mass.
How would we have lunch now?
We could eat the bread and other more or less solid food freely, though it quickly dried up in a box that wasn’t hermetically sealed: the bread turned into rock, the fruits shrank and also got pretty hard. On the other hand, their skins still retained some moisture.
“Oh, this habit of eating something hot! How can we manage it? You can’t make a fire here: there’s no wood, no coal, even the matches don’t burn!”
“Can’t we use the Sun for this? You know, they bake eggs in the hot sand of the Sahara!”
We fixed our pots and pans and other vessels so that their lids closed tightly and firmly. We filled everything with what was needed, according to the rules of the culinary arts, and put it all in a pile in the sun. Then we gathered all the mirrors in the house and set them up so they reflected the Sun’s light onto the pots and pans.
Before even an hour had passed, we could dine on foods that were well boiled and fried.
And what can I say! Have you heard of Mouchot?4 His perfected solar delicacies were far behind ours! Boasting and bragging? Call it that if you like… You can blame these self-satisfied words on our ravenous appetites, which would have made any kind of vile stuff seem delightful.
Only one thing was bad: we had to hurry. I admit it, we stuffed ourselves and choked. You’ll understand this if I say that the soup boiled and got cold not only in the bowls, but even in our mouths, our throats and digestive tracts; the moment we got distracted – look, instead of soup there was a lump of ice…
It’s a wonder our digestive systems stayed in one piece! The pressure of the steam stretched them out a great deal…
In any case, we were satisfied and fairly calm. We didn’t understand how it was we could live without air, and how it was we ourselves, our house, garden, and the stores of food and drink in the pantries and cellars had been transferred from Earth to the Moon. We were even struck by doubt, and we thought: isn’t this a dream, a daydream or a demonic delusion? And along with all that we got used to our situation and related to it partly with curiosity, partly with indifference: what we couldn’t explain didn’t surprise us, and the danger of dying of hunger, alone and miserable, didn’t even enter our minds.
You’ll learn the reason for our impossible optimism at the end of our adventures.
We wanted to take a stroll after eating… I didn’t dare sleep a lot: I was afraid of suffering a stroke.
I distracted my friend, too.
We were in a spacious yard, with gymnastics equipment in its center, and on its sides a fence and outbuildings.
Why was this rock here? A person could trip and fall on it. In the yard the ground was ordinary earthly soil, soft. Out with it, over the fence! Be confident! Don’t be frightened by the size! And there we lifted a stone of sixty poods by our mutual efforts and tossed it over the fence. We heard it land with a dull thud on the stony ground of the Moon. The sound reached us not by way of the air, but under the ground: the blow was carried by the ground’s vibration, then by our bodies into the fine bones of our ears. By this path we could often hear the blows we had struck.
“Could that be the way we hear each other?”
“Hardly! The sound couldn’t resonate the way it would in the air.”
The ease of our movements awakened a most powerful desire to climb and jump.
The sweet time of childhood! I remember how I would get up on the roof and trees, just like the cats or birds. That was pleasant…
And the competitive leaps across the tape and over ditches! And running for prizes! I loved that passionately…
Shouldn’t I remember the old days? I had little strength, especially in my arms. I jumped and ran fairly well, but I had trouble climbing a rope or a pole.
I used to dream of great physical strength: I would pay back my enemies and reward my friends! A child and a wild savage are the same Now those dreams of muscular strength seemed funny to me… All the same my desires, so ardent in my childhood, had become real here: it was as if my powers were increased sixfold thanks to the Moon’s puny gravity.
Besides that, here I didn’t need to overcome the weight of my own body, which increased the effects of my strength even more. What was a fence for me here? No more than a threshold or a footstool that I could step over on Earth. And there, as if to prove this thought, we sailed upward and we flew over the fence without a running start. Then we jumped up and even leapt over the shed, but for that we needed a running start. And how pleasant it was to run: you didn’t feel your legs beneath you. Off we went… who could beat the other? At a gallop!
Every time our heels hit the ground we flew a few sazhens, especially horizontally. Wait! The whole yard, five hundred sazhens, in one minute: the speed of a race horse…
Your “giant steps” don’t allow you to make such leaps!
We made measurements: at a gallop, even a fairly gentle one, we rose about four arshins above the ground; we moved along the ground five sazhens or more, depending on the speed of our pace.
“Time for some gymnastics!”
Hardly tensing our muscles, and even, for our own amusement, using only our left hands, we climbed up the rope to the platform.
Strange: four sazhens above the ground! It kept seeming as if we were on the clumsy Earth! Our heads were spinning…
With a sinking heart I was the first to dare to jump down. I’m flying… Ouch! I hurt my heel a bit!
I should have warned my friend about that, but I slyly encouraged him to jump. I lifted my head and shouted to him, “Jump, it’s easy – you won’t hurt yourself!”
“You’re urging me for nothing: I know very well that jumping from here is the same as a two-arshin jump on the Earth. Of course you’ll feel it a bit in your heels!”
My friend flew down too. A slow flight… especially at first. The whole thing lasted about five seconds.
In that much time you can think of a lot of things.
“So what do you think, my physicist?”
“My heart is beating – that’s all.”
“To the garden! To climb the trees, to run through the alleys!”
“Why haven’t the leaves dried out there?”
Fresh green… protection from the Sun. Tall lindens and birches! Like squirrels, we leapt and climbed on the slender branches, and they didn’t break. But of course – here we weren’t any heavier than fat turkeys!
We glided above the shrubbery and between the trees, and our movements recalled flight. Oh, it was fun! How easy it was to keep your balance here! If you tipped on a branch, ready to fall, the pull downwards was so weak, the tip off balance so slow, that the slightest movement of an arm or leg was enough to restore it.
To the open spaces! The huge yard and garden seemed like a cage… At first we ran over the flat area. We came upon shallow trenches, up to ten sazhens across. We flew across them at a run, like birds. But the climb had started; at first it was gradual, then steeper and steeper. What an incline! I was afraid I’d run out of breath.
There was no need to fear: we went upward freely, with broad and rapid strides up the slope. The mountain was high – even the easy Moon exhausted us. We sat down. Why was it so soft here? Had the stones been softened?
I picked up a big rock and struck it against another; sparks scattered.
“We’re rested. Time to go back…”
“How far is the house?”
“Not far now, about two hundred sazhens.”
“Can you throw a rock that far?”
“I don’t know, I’ll try!”
We each picked up a medium-sized sharp-cornered stone… Who could throw it farther? My stone went over our residence. And a good thing. Following its trajectory, I was afraid it would break a window.
“And yours? Yours went even farther!”
Shooting here would be interesting: bullets and cannonballs ought to fly fo
r hundreds of versts horizontally and vertically.
“But would gunpowder work here?”
“Explosive materials in a vacuum ought to express themselves with even greater force than in an atmosphere, since the air only interferes with their expansion. As far as oxygen is concerned, they don’t need it, because they already contain the necessary amount.”
III
We came home.
“I’ll sprinkle some gunpowder on the windowsill in the light of the Sun,” I said. “Use a magnifying glass to focus light on it… See – fire… an explosion, even though it’s a silent one.” The familiar scent, which dissipated in a moment.
“You can fire a shot. Just don’t forget to put on a firing cap: the magnifying glass and the Sun will replace the blow of the hammer.”
“Let’s set the rifle up vertically, so we can look for the bullet somewhere nearby after the shot…”
Fire, a faint sound, a slight shaking of the ground.
“Where’s the wad?” I exclaimed. “It should be right here, somewhere nearby, though it won’t be smoking.”
“The wad flew away with the bullet and will hardly have fallen behind it, since it’s only the atmosphere on Earth that prevents it from flying off after the lead. Here even eiderdown would fall or fly upward as fast as a rock… You take that piece of fluff sticking out of the pillow, and I’ll take an iron ball bearing: you can throw your fluff and you’ll hit your mark, even if it’s far away, just as easily as I can with the ball bearing. I can throw a ball of this size about two hundred sazhens; you can throw a piece of fluff the same distance. True, you won’t kill anyone with it, and as you throw it you won’t even feel that you’re throwing anything. Let’s throw our projectiles with all our strength, which is about the same for both of us, and aim at the same target: that red granite over there…”
We watched the piece of fluff move slightly ahead of the iron ball, as if drawn by a strong whirlwind…
“But what’s this: three minutes have passed since we shot, but the bullet hasn’t come back?”
“Wait two more minutes, and it will surely come back,” the physicist answered.
In fact, after about the amount of time he said, we felt a light shaking of the ground and saw the casing jump not far away.
“Where’s the bullet? It can’t be the shred of oakum that made the ground shake?” I asked in surprise.
“Probably it was heated to the melting point by the blow and spattered in tiny drops in every direction.”
We looked around and in fact we did find a few miniscule drops that were apparently the remaining fragments of the bullet.
“The bullet flew for so long! What sort of height could it have reached?” I asked.
“About seventy versts up. That height is due to the low gravity and the absence of atmospheric interference.”
My mind and body were exhausted and demanded a rest. The Moon was all very well, but the outsized leaps were making themselves felt. As a result of the long distance of our flights we didn’t always land on our feet as they ended, and we got some bruises. During four or six seconds of flight we could not only examine our surroundings from a fair height, but also complete certain movements with our arms and legs; however, we didn’t manage to tumble at will in space. Then we learned to give our bodies the initial and the tumbling movements simultaneously; in those cases we could flip over in space up to three times. It is curious to experience that movement, interesting also to see it from the side. Thus, for a long time I watched the movement of my physicist, who carried out a lot of movement experiments with no support, without the ground under his feet. It would take a whole book to describe them.
We slept about eight hours.
It was getting warmer. The Sun had risen higher and was baking more weakly, covering a smaller area of the body, but the ground had warmed up and no longer gave off such cold; in general, the effect of the Sun and the ground was warm, almost hot.
It was time, however, to take steps to protect ourselves, since it had already become clear to us that even before midday arrived we would be burnt to a crisp.
What could we do?
We had various plans.
“We could live for a few days in the cellar, but I can’t guarantee that in the evening, about two hundred and fifty hours from now, the heat won’t penetrate there, since the cellar isn’t that deep. Besides, we’ll get bored in the absence of any kind of comfort and in the enclosed space.”
Let’s say that suffering boredom and discomfort is easier than being cooked.
But wouldn’t it be better to choose one of the deeper crevices? We’d creep into it and spend the rest of the day and part of the night there in pleasant coolness.
That would be much more cheerful and poetic. Or else – a cellar!
Necessity will drive a person into such places!
And so, the crevice. The stronger the Sun burned, the deeper we would go down. By the way, a depth of several sazhens is sufficient.
We would take along umbrellas, provisions in sealed boxes and casks; we would put on fur coats, since they could come in handy in either excessive heat or excessive cold; besides, here they wouldn’t weigh on our shoulders.
A few more hours passed, during which we managed to eat something, take a rest and talk a bit more about gymnastics on the Moon and what kinds of wonders earthly acrobats could perform here. We couldn’t linger any more: it was hellishly hot. In any case, outside, in the well-lit places, the stony ground was heated to the point where we had to strap thick wooden boards to the soles of our shoes.
In our haste we dropped some glass and clay vessels, but they didn’t break – the gravity was so weak.
I almost forgot to mention the fate of our horse, who had been carried here along with us. When we wanted to harness the unfortunate animal to the wagon, he somehow broke loose from our hands and at first raced off faster than the wind, bucking and running into things; then, unaware of the power of inertia and unable to avoid a rocky mass in his way, he shattered against it. The meat and blood froze at first and then dried out.
And I should mention the flies. They couldn’t fly, but only jumped, at least half an arshin…
And so, we took along everything essential, with immense loads on our shoulders, which amused us considerably, because everything we were carrying felt empty and thin. We closed the doors, windows and shutters of the house, so they would heat up less and would suffer less from the high temperature, and we set off to look for a suitable crevice or cave.
While we were searching we were struck by the sharp transitions in temperature: places that the Sun had been heating for a long time exuded the heat of a red-hot oven, so we tried to pass them as quickly as possible. We rested and freshened up somewhere in the shade cast by a boulder or a cliff – and we cooled down so well that if we had lingered we could have made good use of our fur coats. But these places couldn’t be depended on either: the Sun would move to the other side and light up the place where now there was shadow and cold. We knew this and searched for a crevice where the Sun would cast its light, but only for a short time that would not heat up the stones.
There was a crevice with walls almost plumb-straight. We could see only the beginning of the walls – it was black and appeared bottomless. We went around the narrow part and found there a gentle slope, which led, apparently, to hell itself. We took a few steps without mishap, but the dark thickened, and nothing could be seen ahead of us; going farther seemed terrifying, and also risky… We remembered that we had brought along an electric flashlight: candles and torches were impossible here… The light turned on and in an instant lit up a crevice about twenty sazhens deep; the slope turned out to be comfortable.
So that’s your bottomless crevice, that’s your hell! We were disappointed by such pettiness.
Its darkness was explained, in the first place, by the fact that it lay in the shade, and because of its narrowness and depth the rays reflected by the illuminated surroundings and hi
gh mountains did not penetrate there; in the second place, by the fact that it was not illuminated from above by the atmosphere, as it would have been on Earth, where for that reason you can’t find such thick darkness down any well.
In proportion to how far down we went, sometimes grabbing the walls, the temperature went down, but it wasn’t less than fifteen degrees Celsius. Apparently that was the average temperature of the latitude where we were. We choose a comfortable, even spot, spread out our fur coats and arranged ourselves comfortably.
But what was this? Had night come? Covering the lamp with one hand, we looked at the scrap of dark sky and the multitude of stars, shining fairly brightly above our heads.
However, the chronometer showed that not much time had passed, and the Sun couldn’t have set unexpectedly.
Oh no! An awkward movement broke the flashlight bulb, although the carbon filament continued to glow even brighter: if we were on Earth, it would have gone dull immediately, burnt out in the air.
I touched it curiously; it broke – and everything was cast into darkness. We couldn’t see each other, our outlines were only barely noticeable at the height of the opening of the crevice, and the long narrow stripe of the black sky lit up with an even greater quantity of stars.
I couldn’t believe it was midday. I couldn’t bear it: with difficulty I found the extra flashlight, turned on its electric current and went upward… It was lighter and warmer… The light blinded me; it was as if the electric lamp had burned out.
Yes, it was daytime, and the Sun and shadows were just where they were before.
It was hot! Back as quickly as possible.
IV
We slept like logs from having nothing to do. Our lair didn’t get warm.
Sometimes we came out of it, searched out a shady spot, and observed the movements of the Sun, stars, planets, and of our big Moon, which, if you compared its size to your pathetic Moon, was just like an apple compared to a cherry.
Red Star Tales Page 5