The Extraordinary Adventures of a Russian Scientist Across the Solar System (Vol. 1)

by Georges Le Faure; Henri de Graffigny

  “All right—but it’ll be bloody.”

  “Pardon? Those ten minutes are really 40.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Since Mercury completes its voyage round the Sun in a quarter of the time that the Earth takes to complete its own, the minutes on this planet must be worth four times as much as terrestrial minutes.”

  No one replied, everyone being too hungry to refute this bizarre theory.

  While gnawing one of the flyer’s wings, Farenheit said: “So, if I’ve understood what you were saying during the journey, Mercury is an uninhabited world?”

  Fricoulet shrugged his shoulders. “How can you say such things when you have proof to the contrary in your hand?”

  The American rounded his eyes. “This isn’t proof,” he replied, “it’s a bird’s wing.”

  “What is that bird,” riposted the engineer, “if not an inhabitant of Mercury?”

  At the unexpected sally, the American burst out laughing, and Gontran shared his hilarity.

  “In truth,” said the young man, “you want to claim that this bird with a trunk is a representative of Mercurian humankind?”127

  “Why not?”

  “Take note, my dear Gontran,” said Ossipoff, in his turn, “that Mercury is a very young planet, and its humankind ought to correspond to the terrestrial Quaternary period. On the other hand, it could be that the succession of living species might be different from that on our world, and that Mercurian humankind has a form quite different from the one affected on the other planets.”

  Gontran had remained nonplussed during this explanation; when the old man had finished, he pulled a disgusted face and threw away the piece of meat he had been about to eat hungrily.

  “What’s got into you?” asked Fricoulet, whose mouth was full.

  “I feel like a cannibal!” declared Flammermont.

  “Bah!” growled the American. “An inhabitant of Mercury! That’s of no consequence—and anyway, it had only to warn you.”

  Abruptly, without any transition, night gave way to day.

  Scarcely had the Sun appeared on the horizon than it rose rapidly into the sky, deluging the planet with torrents of light and heat. While his companions were sponging their foreheads, Ossipoff, careless of sunstroke, had seized his telescope. Aiming it at the radiant star, he measured its diameter with the aid of a micrometer.

  “That’s exactly right,” he murmured, in a satisfied tone. “75 minutes.”

  “What about the Earth?” asked the American. “What diameter does that present?”

  “Less than half as much—only 32 minutes.

  “We can’t get under way now,” said Fricoulet, “not without being roasted alive, at least. If you ask me, we ought to lie down beneath the thick and impenetrable vault formed by the foliage of the trees, and sleep while we wait for the night.”

  When dusk fell, enveloping the landscape with a soft and warm gilded light, the voyagers prepared to leave. They took nothing with them but their weapons, indispensable in case they encountered Sharp, and a few cubes of the nutritive paste, in case no inhabitant of Mercury came within their range. They left the sphere and all its contents next to the stream, with no fear that any thief would get his hands on it.

  “What are we going to do to make sure we don’t get lost?” asked Flammermont.

  “According to my observations,” the old scientist replied, “we must presently be on the edge of the tropical zone. Navigating by the stars, nothing should be easier than for us to circle the planet by set a course eastwards.”

  “But there must certainly be seas and oceans on this unknown world! How are we going to cross them?”

  “We’ll think about that.”

  While chatting, they had set off, and five minutes had sufficed for them to cover a kilometer. They went on at that speed until midnight or thereabouts, crossing arid plains, going over steep hills, clearing a path—with great difficulty—through forests of titanic trees festooned with enormous lianas, and inextricable thickets through which they had to fight their way, like tiny insects in the webs of immense spiders.

  Then, all of a sudden, the sky darkened. The atmosphere filled up with thick clouds, behind which the twinkling stars vanished, and opaque shadows descended upon the planet like a shroud. The voyagers were forced to call a halt and wait for daylight.

  At dawn, as they prepared to set off again, desirous of taking advantage of the brief interval in which the heat was bearable to cover a few more leagues, Mikhail Ossipoff—who had taken the lead—suddenly stopped. “Water!” he exclaimed. “Water!” Extending his hand, he showed his companions a liquid expanse, which reflected the Sun’s golden rays not far away. On the shore, the verdant foliage of gigantic trees hung down, seeming to exude a delightful coolness into the surroundings. “If you ask me, my friends,” said the scientist, “We should push on that far, then stop to await the dusk.”

  “How far away do you think that oasis is?” asked the American, sponging his forehead.

  “15 kilometers, at the most,” Fricoulet replied.

  “That’ll take us half an hour. A little courage, and we can enjoy a delightful rest until the evening.”

  With these words, pronounced in an encouraging tone by Flammermont, they started walking again. Strangely enough, though, the voyagers, although going forward, did not seem to be getting any closer to their goal. The water was still sparkling and the trees continued to extend their tresses toward the sky, but it seemed that the region retreated as Ossipoff and his companions approached.

  The American took out his watch. “We’ve already been marching for 15 minutes,” he grumbled. “15 minutes to make 15 kilometers! That’s inadmissible—you were mistaken in your estimate of the distance, my dear Monsieur Fricoulet.”

  “That’s quite possible,” replied the latter, who was examining the horizon pensively, putting his hand over his eyes to shade them from the Sun.

  “Mind you,” said Gontran, in his turn, “there’s something strange and abnormal about what’s happening. Have you noticed that the water and those trees look just the same as they did some while ago? Now, the principles of optics…”

  The engineer clapped his hands. “I’ve got it!” he exclaimed. “I can explain the phenomenon—it’s a mirage. We’re victims of an optical illusion similar to those that often present themselves in the African desert.”

  “A mirage,” repeated Farenheit, in a disappointed tone. “That water doesn’t exist, then?”

  “That’s not such a great pity,” Gontran observed, “for it would be very hot. It’s the shade of the trees that I regret.”

  “Let’s not despair,” said Fricoulet, swiftly. “Let’s walk on a little; it’s quite possible that the landscape really exists.”

  The voyagers’ steadfastness was submitted to a rude proof; the country they were passing through was a sort of arid desert. As far as they eye could see, nothing was visible but dry yellow soil—not a single tree or blade of grass, but sand and more sand, and, above their heads, in the clear sky, the enormous disk of the Sun, pouring forth its torrential radiation, which charred their limbs and corroded their entrails.

  Finally, their strength exhausted, they stopped. A canvas tent was extended on four poles and the voyagers lay down in the square shadow that the primitive shelter projected on the burning ground until the evening.

  When the day star had been replaced in the sidereal immensity by the gentler light of Venus, the voyagers abandoned their encampment, determined to march as far as necessary to get out of that desolate land.

  About midnight, after traveling 50 kilometers, they passed into a new region and the vegetation reappeared, even more luxuriant than in the place where they had come down. The desert sands were succeeded by a fertile and grassy plain; in the distance, they heard the murmur of running water rippling over stones.

  “Farenheit! Farenheit!” called Ossipoff, seeing the American go on ahead. “Where are you going?”


  “To take a bath,” he replied, without stopping.

  “The fool will scald himself!” said Flammermont, running after him.

  Farenheit had a few strides in hand, with the result that he disappeared beneath the tall trees before the young man had caught up with him.

  Suddenly the American uttered a cry of joy. Like a silver sheet, a liquid immensity extended in front of him, its surface reflecting the twinkling stars crowding the firmament. “By God!” he muttered, hastening his steps, “Even if that water’s hot enough to cook eggs, a bath in it will seem cool by comparison with the Sun’s rays.”

  In two bounds he reached the bank, stripped off his clothes—only retaining his underpants—and went into the water. Although warm, the water did indeed seem to him to be lower in temperature than the hot atmosphere of the day, and he plunged into it with unexpected sensuality, diving, floating and drawing himself along with skilful strokes, good swimmer that he was.

  Without noticing it, Farenheit had drawn some distance away from the shore, and had given no thought to drawing his aquatic exercises to a close, when suddenly, a few meters away from him, the water became very turbulent, and a dark mass surfaced, heading for the shore. Immediately, the idea of crocodiles occurred to him—and, in spite of the water temperature, a cold chill ran down his spine. Instinctively, his hand sought his revolver in its usual place—but he was in his underpants. “By God!” he groaned. “As long as my friends arrive in time!”

  Meanwhile, the disquieting mass had landed, and was slowly and painfully hoisting itself out of the water, emitting formidable growls. By the light of Venus, the American made out, albeit rather vaguely, an enormous body terminating in a tail, which appeared to measure no less than 50 or 60 meters. The anterior part of the animal seemed to form nothing but a head: a monstrous, frightful head, which terminated in a rigid trunk shaped like a trumpet, similar to the one with which the head of the Mercurian inhabitant the voyagers had eaten had been equipped.

  From where he was, Farenheit could hear the monster’s powerful breathing. Disturbing the atmospheric layers, it produced violent currents of air whose movement reached the swimmer. The latter was ill at ease, and cursed the ill-conceived idea he had had of taking a bath.

  Suddenly, he heard a terrible scream, with nothing human about it. Immediately, though, an anguished voice coming from the shore called for help!

  “By God!” muttered Farenheit. “What’s happening? Has the monster attacked my friends?” Without considering that his movements might attract the animal’s attention, he began swimming vigorously, making a slight detour in order to land as quickly as possible and lend a strong hand to his companions.

  “Help! Help!” repeated the same voice.

  The American went forward rapidly. “Courage!” he shouted. “Courage! I’m coming!”

  As if to reply to him, the monster released a howl that rent the air frightfully; one might have taken it for the screech of a steam-driven siren.

  As Farenheit came out of the water, he perceived a white shape clinging to a bush. “Hold on!” he cried. “Hold on, here I am!”

  “Help me, Monsieur Farenheit! Help me!”

  “Mademoiselle Selena!” exclaimed the American, so stupefied that he stopped dead.

  “Quickly, quickly! I can’t hold on any longer!”

  The white shape seemed to separate from the tree and, struggling all the while, advanced toward the monster, whose trunk, aimed towards her, was like a gulf ready to swallow her up.

  At that moment, a loud noise broke out beneath the trees; it was Ossipoff and his companions, running in search of Farenheit. “Shoot! Shoot!” the American shouted to them, powerless to save the young woman from the inevitable death that awaited her.

  A volley of shots burst forth, awakening echoes in the distance like the rumbling of thunder. Frightened by the noise, to which its ears were completely unaccustomed, and perhaps struck by one of the bullets, the Mercurian monster uttered a horrible groan and plunged into the lake, disappearing before the Terrans’ eyes.

  “Selena!” cried Gontran, desperately, bounding toward the white form extended on the ground.

  Ossipoff arrived next to his daughter’s body almost at the same time as the young man. “My child!” he moaned. “My beloved daughter! It’s you! It’s really you that I see.” He had knelt down and taken her in his arms, cradling her like an infant.

  Fricoulet moved Gontran slightly to one side and put his hand on the young woman’s chest. “She’s only fainted,” he declared. “Don’t worry, Monsieur Ossipoff—and you too, Gontran. Don’t despair, it’s absolutely nothing. If you want, we can go back at a forced march to the place where we left the sphere. There, in my pharmaceutical bag, I can find the medicines Mademoiselle Selena needs.”

  “But how can we transport her?” said Ossipoff.

  “In a very simple manner,” declared Farenheit, who had finished getting dressed. “You’ll see.”

  He broke two long and flexible branches from the nearest tree, to which he attached the old man’s ample frock-coat, like a canvas extended on a camp-bed. They laid the young woman on it; then he and Gontran put the shafts of the improvised litter on their shoulders and set off at the double, followed by Fricoulet and Ossipoff.

  Every 20 kilometers the porters were relieved; every 40 kilometers they stopped for ten minutes to rest.

  When dawn broke, the voyagers were back in the sphere, gathered around Selena—who, having emerged from her torpor thanks to the intelligent ministrations of Fricoulet, was smiling at them softly.

  Of the four voyagers, Farenheit was certainly the one who manifested the greatest joy on seeing the young woman come round. “How good you are, Mr. Farenheit,” she said, holding out her hand to him, “And how much pleasure it seems to give you to see me again.”

  “Of course!” the American replied. “I assume that you’ll be able to give me news of that wretch Sharp!”

  “Me!” she replied, in astonishment. “I can’t tell you anything, except that he left four days ago.”

  “Left!” cried Ossipoff and his companions. “For what destination?”

  “For the Sun.”

  “But what about you?”

  “He abandoned me here, because I was an excess weight in the vehicle that might compromise his voyage.”

  Gontran clenched his fists in fury. “Oh, the wretch…the wretch! He’ll pay dearly for that!”

  Farenheit responded with a roar: “For that, you’ll have to get your hands on him. As we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives, without any hope of ever seeing our native planet again…”

  “What does it matter?” murmured Ossipoff, lost in the joy of holding his beloved daughter in his arms.

  “By God!” grumbled the American. “That’s easy for you to say—you’ve recovered your daughter…but Sharp has escaped me yet again.”

  “And this time for good,” sniggered Fricoulet.

  Farenheit shrugged his shoulders and went away in search of inhabitants of Mercury on which he could vent his fury. In fact, he came back after half an hour bearing a chaplet of birds attached to his belt, similar in all respects to the one that Gontran had killed.

  “Good hunting!” said Fricoulet, rubbing his hands with evident contentment.

  “Do you know that something very strange is happening in the sky?” the American replied. “There’s a star that seems to be visibly increasing in size.”

  The engineer shrugged his shoulders, laughing. “Optical illusion,” he said.

  “I assure you that I saw it clearly, especially as the star’s light illuminates a whole region of space.”

  The American spoke so definitely and in so convincing a manner that Fricoulet followed him outside. Scarcely had he lifted his eyes to the sky than he raced back in and armed himself with Ossipoff’s telescope. He aimed it at the point indicated by the American. “A comet!” he cried. “A comet!”

  Everyone came to join him, including Selena
. The old scientist snatched the instrument from the engineer’s hands, directed it towards the star, and stood there for a long time, engrossed in contemplation. Finally, he murmured: “It is, indeed, a comet.” Then, looking around the neighborhood, he said: “If you ask me, we should establish ourselves provisionally at the top of that little hill down there; we’ll be admirably placed to devote ourselves to our astronomical observations; at the same time, from the hygienic point of view, we’ll be less exposed to the solar radiation.”

  By virtue of the low weight at the planet’s surface, the four Terrans soon managed to roll the sphere to the place indicated by the aged scientist. It was a little wooded eminence, raised about 50 meters above ground level and descending a gentle slope to the stream in which Farenheit had taken an ill-advised foot-bath on the day before last.

  When he awoke the next morning, Ossipoff’s first concern was to climb the internal stairway that led to the top of the sphere, where he had installed his optical instruments. In response to the exclamations he made, his companions joined him, and perceived the previous evening’s meteor advancing toward the Sun with vertiginous rapidity, extending a vast tail across the sky.

  After remaining silent for a moment, dazzled by the magical spectacle, Selena asked: “Every comet has a name, doesn’t it, Father? What’s that one called?”

  The astronomer shook his head doubtfully. “I don’t know,” he replied.

  “What? You don’t know? But I thought…”

  “You thought wrong,” he replied, in a slightly dry tone. “These errant bodies, baptized with the name of comets, are as numerous in space as the fish in the bosom of the sea. It might well be that we have a new comet before our eyes, arriving from infinity, which our Sun has deflected from its course.”

  At that moment, Gontran took a step backwards. “I say,” he said. “Isn’t there a danger that this comet will crash into us. It seems to be heading directly for us.”

  Fricoulet, examining the heavenly body attentively, murmured: “You might well be right in your prognostication, for it will certainly intersect Mercury’s orbit.” A moment later, he added: “That, of course, might well be the end—who can tell, in fact, what might result from such a collision?”