Chapter 4: The Electric Orrery

“Half-moon Junction! Change here for Venus, Mercury, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune!”

So I called in the style of a Clapham railway porter, as I entered the observatory of Professor Gazen on the following night.

“What is the matter?” said he with a smile. “Are you imitating the officials of the Universal Navigation Company in the distant future?”

“Not so distant as you may imagine,” I responded significantly; and then I told him all that I had seen and heard of the new flying machine.

The professor listened with serious attention, but manifested neither astonishment nor scepticism.

“What do you think about it?” I asked. “What should I do in the case?”

“Well, I hardly know,” he replied doubtfully. “It is rather out of my line, and after my experience with Mars the other night, I am not inclined to dogmatise. At all events, I should like to see and try the machine before giving an opinion.”

“I will arrange for that with the inventor.”

“Possibly I can find out something about him from my American friends--if he is genuine. What’s his name again?”

“Carmichael--Nasmyth Carmichael.”

“Nasmyth Carmichael,” repeated Gazen, musingly. “It seems to me I’ve heard the name somewhere. Yes, now I recollect. When I was a student at Cambridge, I remember reading a textbook on physics by Professor Nasmyth Carmichael, an American, and a capital book it was--beautifully simple, clear, and profound like Nature herself. Professors, as a rule, and especially professors of science, are not the best writers in the world. Pity they can’t teach the economy of energy without wasting that of their readers. Carmichael’s book was not a dead system of mathematics and figures, but rather a living tale, with illustrations drawn from every part of the world. I got far more help from it than the prescribed treatises, and the best of that was a liking for the subject. I believe I should have been plucked without it.”

“The very man, no doubt.”

“He was remarkably sane when he wrote that book, whatever he is now. As to his character, that is another question. Given a work of science, to find the character of the author. Problem.”

“I shall proceed cautiously in the affair. Before I commit myself, I must be satisfied by inspection and trial that there is neither trickery nor self-delusion on his part. We can make some trial trips, and gain experience before we attempt to leave the world.”

“If you take my advice you will keep to the earth altogether.”

“Surely, if we can ascend into the higher regions of the atmosphere, we can traverse empty space. You would have me stop within sight of the goal. The end of travel is to reach the other planets.”

“Why not say the fixed stars when you are about it?”

“That’s impossible.”

“On the contrary, with a vessel large enough to contain the necessaries of life, a select party of ladies and gentlemen might start for the Milky Way, and if all went right, their descendants would arrive there in the course of a few million years.”

“Rather a long journey, I’m afraid.”

“What would you have? A million years quotha! nay, not so much. It depends on the speed and the direction taken. If they were able to cover, say, the distance from Liverpool to New York in a tenth of a second, they would get to Alpha in the constellation Centaur, perhaps the nearest of the fixed stars, in twenty or thirty years--a mere bagatelle. But why should we stop there?” went on Gazen. “Why should we not build large vessels for the navigation of the ether--artificial planets in fact--and go cruising about in space, from universe to universe, on a celestial Cook’s excursion--”

“We are doing that now, I believe.”

“Yes, but in tow of the Sun. Not at our own sweet will, like gipsies in a caravan. Independent, free of rent and taxes, these hollow planetoids would serve for schools, hotels, dwelling-houses--”

“And lunatic asylums.”

“They would relieve the surplus population of the globe,” continued Gazen, warming to his theme. “It is an idea of the first political importance--especially to British statesmen. The Empire is only in its infancy. With a fleet of ethereal gunboats we might colonise the solar system, and annex the stars. What a stroke of business!”

“Another illusion gone,” I observed “Think of Manchester cotton in the Pleiades! Of Scotch whiskey in Orion! However, I am afraid your policy would lead to international complications. The French would set up a claim for ‘Ancient Lights.’ The Germans would discover a nebulous Hinterland under their protection. The Americans would protest in the name of the Monroe Doctrine. It is necessary to be modest. Let us return to our muttons.”

“Everybody will be able to pick a world that suits him,” pursued Gazen, still on the trail of his thought. “If he grows tired of one he can look round for a better. Criminals will be weeded out and sent to Coventry, I mean transplanted into a worse. When a planet is dying of old age, the inhabitants will flit to another.”

“Seriously, if Carmichael’s machine turns out all right, will you join me in a trip?”

“Thanks, no. I believe I shall wait and see how you get on first.”

“And where would you advise me to go, Mars or Venus?”

The professor smiled, but I was quite in earnest.

“Well,” he replied, “Mars is evidently inhabited; but so is Venus, probably, and of the two I think you will find her the more hospitable and the nearest. When do you propose to start?”

“Perhaps within six months.”

“We must consider their relative distances from the earth. By the way, I don’t think you have seen my new electrical orrery.”

“An electrical orrery,” I exclaimed. “Surely that is something new!”

“So far as I am aware; but you never know in these days. There is nothing new under the sun, or even above it.”

So saying, he opened a small door in the side of the observatory, and, ushering me into a very dark apartment, closed it behind us.

“Follow me, there is no danger,” said he, taking me by the arm, and guiding me for several paces into the darkness.

At length we halted, and I looked all around me, but was unable to perceive a single object.

“Where are we?” I enquired; “in the realms of Chaos and Old Night?”

“You are now in the centre of the Universe,” replied Gazen; “or, to speak more correctly, at a point in space overlooking the solar system.”

“Well, I can’t see it,” said I. “Have you got such a thing as a match about you?”

“Let there be light!” responded Gazen in a reverent manner, and instantly a soft, weird radiance was over all. The contrast of that sudden illumination with the preceding darkness was electrical in more senses than one, and I could not repress a cry of genuine admiration.

A kind of twilight still reigned, and after the first moment of surprise, I perceived that we were standing on a light metal gangway in the middle of a great hollow cell of a luminous black or dark blue colour, relieved by innumerable bright points, and resembling the night sky in miniature.

“I need hardly say that is a model of the celestial sphere,” whispered Gazen, indicating the starry vault.

“It is a wonderful imitation,” I responded, my awestruck eyes wandering over the mysterious tracts of the Milky Way and the familiar constellations of the mimic heavens. “May I ask how it is done--how you produce that impression of infinite distance?”

“By means of translucent shells illuminated from behind. The stars, of course, are electric lamps, and some of them, as you see, have a tinge of red or blue.”

Most of the light, however, came from a brilliant globe of a bluish lustre, which appeared to occupy the centre of the crystal sphere, and was surrounded by a number of smaller and fainter orbs that shone by its reflected rays.

“This, again, is a model of the solar system,” said Gazen. “The central luminary is, of course, the sun, and the others are the planets with their satellites.”

“They seem to float in air.”

“That is because their supports are invisible, or nearly so. Both their lights and periodic motions are produced by the electric current.”

“Surely they are not moving now?”

“Oh, yes, and with velocities proportionate to those of the real bodies; but you know that whilst the actual movements of the sun and planets are so rapid, the dimensions of the system are so vast that if you could survey the whole from a standpoint in space, as we are supposed to do, it would appear at rest. Let us look at them a little closer.”

I followed Gazen along the gangway which encircled the orrery, and allowed us to survey each of the planets closer at hand.

“This kind of place would make a good theatre for a class in astronomy,” said I, “or for the meetings of the Interplanetary Congress of Astronomers, in the year 2000. You can turn on the stars and planets when you please. I wish you would give me a lecture on the subject now. My knowledge is a little the worse for wear, and a man ought to know something of the worlds around him--especially if he intends to visit them.”

“I should only bore you with an old story.”

“Not at all. You cannot be too simple and elementary. Regard me as a small boy in the stage of

“‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

How I wonder what you are!’”

“Very well, my little man, have you any idea how many stars you can see on a clear night?”

“Billions.”

“No, Tommy. You are wrong, my dear boy. Go to the foot of your class. With the naked eye we can only distinguish three or four thousand, but with the telescope we are able to count at least fifty millions. They are thickest in the Milky Way, which, as you can see, runs all round the heavens, over your head, and under your feet, like an irregular tract of hazy light, a girdle of stars in short. Of course we cannot tell how many more there are beyond the range of vision, or what other galaxies may be scattered in the depths of space. The stars are suns, larger or smaller than our own, and of various colours--white, blue, yellow, green, and red. Some are single, but others are held together in pairs or groups by the force of gravitation. From their immense distance they appear fixed to us, but in reality they are flying in all directions at enormous velocities. Alpha, of the constellation Cygnus, for example, is coming towards us at a speed of 500 million leagues per annum, and some move a great deal faster. Most of them probably have planets circling round them in different stages of growth, but these are invisible to us. Here and there amongst them we find luminous patches or ‘nebulæ, ‘ which prove to be either clusters of stars or stupendous clouds of glowing gases. Our sun is a solitary blue star on the verge of the Milky Way, 20 billion miles from Alpha Centauri his next-door neighbour. He is travelling in a straight line towards the constellation Hercules at the rate of 20,000 miles an hour, much quicker than a rifle bullet; and, nevertheless, he will take more than a million years to cover the distance. Eight large or major planets, with their satellites, and a flock of minor planets or planetoids, are revolving round him as their common centre and luminary at various distances, but all in the same direction. The orbits, or paths, about the sun are ovals or ellipses, almost circular, of which the sun occupies one focus, and they are so nearly in one plane, or at one level, that if seen from the sun, they would appear to wander along a narrow belt of the heavens, called the zodiac, which extends a few degrees on each side of the Elliptic or apparent course of the sun against the stars. The planets are all globes, more or less flat at the poles, like an orange, and each is turning and swaying on its axis, thus exposing every part to the light and warmth of the sun. They are divided by the planetoids into an inner and an outer band. The inner four are Mercury, Venus, the Earth, and Mars; the outer four are Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. Moreover, a number of comets and swarms of meteoric stones or meteorites are circulating round the sun in eccentric paths, which cross those of the planets. Such is the solar system--a lonely archipelago in the ethereal ocean--a little family of worlds.”

“Not without its jars, I’m afraid.”

“The sun is chief of the clan,” continued Gazen, “and keeps it together by the mysterious tie of gravitation. While flying through space, he turns round his own axis like a rifle bullet in 25 or 26 days. His diameter is 860,000 miles, and although he is not much denser than sea-water, his mass is over 700 times greater than the combined mass of all his retinue. Gravity on his surface being 28 times stronger than on the earth, a piece of timber would be as heavy as gold there, and a stone let fall would drop 460 feet the first second instead of 16 feet as here. He is built of the same kind of matter as the earth and other planets, but is hotter than the hottest electric arc or reverberatory furnace. Apparently his glowing bulk is made up of several concentric shells like an onion. First there is a kernel or liquid nucleus, probably as dense as pitch. Above it is the photosphere, the part we usually see, a jacket of incandescent clouds, or vapours, which in the telescope is seen to resemble ‘willow leaves, ‘ or ‘rice grains in a plate of soup, ‘ and in the spectroscope to reveal the rays of iron, manganese, or other heavy elements. What we call ‘faculæ’ (or little torches), are brighter streaks, not unlike some kinds of coral. The ‘Sunspots’ are immense gaps or holes in the photosphere, some of them 150,000 miles in diameter, which afford us a peep at the glowing interior. There are different theories as to their nature, hence they provide rival astronomers with an excellent opportunity of spotting each other’s reputations. For instance, I look upon them as eruptions, and Professor Sylvanus Pettifer Possil (my pet aversion) regards them as cyclonic storms; consequently we never lose an opportunity of erupting and storming at each other. Above the photosphere comes a stratum of cooler vapours and gases, namely, hydrogen and helium, a very light element recently found on the earth, along with argon, in the rare mineral cleveite. Tremendous jets of blazing hydrogen are seen to burst through the clouds of the photosphere, and play about in this higher region like the flames of a coal fire. These are the famous ‘red flames’ or ‘prominences, ‘ which are seen during a total eclipse as a ragged fringe of rosy fire about the black disc of the moon. Some of them rush through the chromosphere to a height of 80,000 miles in 15 minutes.

“Higher still is the ‘corona, ‘ an aureole of silvery beams visible in a total eclipse, and resembling the star of a decoration. The streamers have been traced for hundreds of thousands of miles beyond the solar disc. It appears to consist of meteoric stones, illuminated by the sunlight as well as of incandescent vapours of ‘coronium, ‘ a very light element unknown on the earth, and probably, too, of electrical discharges. The ‘zodiacal light, ‘ that silvery glow often seen in the west after sunset, or in the east before sunrise, may be a prolongation of it.”

“I daresay these meteorites are swarming about the sun like midges about a lamp,” said I.

“And just as eager to get burnt up,” replied Gazen, with a smile. “Let us pass now to the planets. The little one next the sun is Mercury, who can be seen as a rosy-white star soon after sunset or before sunrise. He is about 36 million miles, more or less, from the sun; travels round his orbit in 88 days, the length of his year; and spins about his axis in 24 hours, making a day and night. His diameter is 3,000 miles, and his mass is nearly seven times that of an equal volume of water. The attraction of gravity on his surface is barely half that on the earth, and a man would feel very light there. Mercury seems to have a dense atmosphere, and probably high mountains, if not active volcanoes. The sunshine is from four to nine times stronger there than on the earth, and as summer and winter follow each other in six weeks, he is doubtless rather warm.

“Venus, the ‘Shepherd’s Star, ‘ and the brightest object in the heavens after the moon, can sometimes be seen by day, and casts a distinct shadow at night. She is about 67 million miles from the sun, revolves round him in 225 days, and rotates on her axis in 23 to 24 hours, or as Schiaparelli believes, in 224 days. Her diameter is 7,600 miles, and her mass nearly five times that of an equal volume of water. Gravity is rather less there than it is here. Like Mercury, she appears to have a cloudy atmosphere, and very high mountains. On the whole she resembles the earth, but is, perhaps, a younger as well as a warmer planet.