Chapter VII: The Melody of Flowers and Zarlah

My visitor appeared to be a young man of about twenty-five, tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, and fair-complexioned, with that frank and open countenance which claims the friendship of all men. Without a moment’s hesitation he stepped forward with outstretched hand and, in the composite language of Mars, said:

“Good-evening, Almos. I am afraid this is an intrusion. I have interrupted your studies, I know, but the fact is--”

“Not at all, my dear Reon!” I found myself replying. “I am glad to see you at any time, and now, how can I be of service to you?”

Although I answered him in the composite language, and in a manner that did not excite the slightest suspicion, I did so unconsciously. In spite of the quandary in which I found myself upon coming face to face with an inhabitant of Mars, I outwardly remained perfectly calm, nor did it require any effort to appear so. The brain, in such an emergency, followed instinctively its natural habit. It was as if another man had spoken from within me, one who was perfectly acquainted with the visitor and with Martian affairs. I found, however, when the surprise of the first few moments had passed, that my mind could take control whenever it exerted itself to do so. Thus I was able to say whatever I wished, or, if necessity demanded, draw upon Almos’ knowledge for information. Replies came with the ease that Almos himself would have experienced in answering questions, and I soon found that, with discretion, there was no danger of my visitor suspecting the remarkable change of personality in his friend.

I learned that Reon had come with a message from Sarraccus, one of Mars’ greatest scientists, who was about to give a demonstration of his latest invention, a remarkable musical instrument called the lumaharp. A recognized authority on anything of a scientific nature, Almos’ counsel was sought, and it was desired that he should be present at the recital of this wonderful instrument.

Hastily ascertaining the time, I found that I had only two hours in which it would be safe to remain on Mars. So interested had I been in my observations of Earth, that the time had passed without my being aware of the narrow margin I had left myself in which to see the planet. I, however, informed my visitor that I would be ready to accompany him in a few minutes, and with all haste, prepared myself for this new undertaking.

I realized that once having left the observatory and stepped into a new and strange world, many things might happen to prevent me returning within two hours. But besides feeling that I was in duty bound to Almos to attend this demonstration, I also felt that the risks I had taken were too great to go unrewarded by even a glimpse into the life of this wonderful planet. The future, too, held that element of uncertainty which made me feel that I might pay dearly for the five hours spent in another world. If the return current failed to do what was expected of it, if I had erred in my calculation of the time I could remain on Mars, or if my room had been broken into and my body moved, the results would be disastrous.

I must attend this demonstration at any cost, but I would explain to my host that it was most urgently necessary to return to the observatory within two hours. I was now ready for the strange journey, and, approaching my visitor, I said:

“And now, Reon, I will accompany you, but there is no time to be lost, as an experiment I am conducting with one of these instruments demands my attention in two hours.”

I held back the portières as Reon passed out, and following him down a short passage, we stepped out upon a wide balcony constructed of white marble.

A wonderful sight met my astonished gaze. It was a summer evening, and the dome of the heavens seemed ablaze with the light of myriads of diamonds, so countless were the stars to be seen and so brilliant did they appear in this rarefied atmosphere. Below me stretched out what appeared to be a magnificent park, with white marble buildings scattered here and there, while floating easily in the air were hundreds of small canoe-like airships, containing the inhabitants of this fairyland, reclining on cushions and enjoying sailing through the cool night air. As the question of buoyancy of these remarkable airships arose in my mind, I immediately became aware that they were sustained, in the air by a metal which was used in their construction that was repellent to the surface of Mars. It had been discovered by the Martians that their planet, like a magnet, had both the power of attracting and repelling. The north and south poles were found to be the repelling poles of this immense magnetic sphere. Nothing could exist on these poles that was not a fixture to the planet’s surface, consequently no snow or ice existed at the poles themselves. Many explorers’ lives had been lost before this discovery was made; those who succeeded in reaching the pole having made the discovery too late to save themselves from being hurled off the planet into space. But so small was the surface of this repelling pole that it was argued that the pole must run through the center of the planet, to make it equal in mass to the attracting force which covered the rest of the surface.

Working on this theory, although it was impossible to reach the pole itself without danger of being hurled off the planet, excavations were made as near it as possible, and a tunnel was run under the surface until the desired point was reached. A change from rock to ore was encountered, with evidences of its having been subjected to intense heat, and upon penetrating farther, pure metal was discovered. This strange metal, unlike any other metal known to the Martians, was found to possess a powerful repelling force. And when it was brought to the surface, it was discovered that it not only retained its repelling force, as a lodestone retains its attracting power, but that this same force was greatly increased, doubtless owing to the close proximity of an unfriendly element in the surface of the planet away from the pole. The repelling force of this metal was found to be ten times as great as the specific gravity of a piece of iron of relative proportions, and by its use in the construction of airships, the problem of aerial navigation on Mars had been solved.

Almos’ knowledge of such matters made me instantly aware of all this the moment the question of buoyancy presented itself in my mind, but, although I could not help marveling at the ingenuity of this wonderful people, I outwardly preserved the calm demeanor which Almos’ strong personality had made a characteristic. Indeed, Reon, who had been preparing an aerenoid for our use--such was the Martian name for these airships--was quite unaware of my astonishment, and it was plain that with the exercise of due care, when I spoke without the prompting of Almos’ knowledge, there was no likelihood of anyone’s having a suspicion of my true personality.

The aerenoid in which we were going to make our journey differed in appearance considerably from those which I saw floating about us. Cigar-shaped, with windows in its sides and roof like a steamer’s portholes, it more nearly resembled a submarine boat than an airship, as it rested on a platform built in the side of the balcony for the purpose. Yet such was the repelling force of this wonderful metal which the Martians had discovered, and which I found was attached in two or more strips to the bottom of the aerenoids, that the matter of weight in their construction was of little importance. While resting on the ground these strips were encased in a material that was a non-conductor, thus neutralizing the repelling force. In order to raise the car the casing was merely drawn back by means of a controlling lever, until enough of the metal was exposed to the surface of Mars to cause the repelling force to lift the aerenoid, and by preserving this exposure, any desired height could thus be attained.

The entire design of this aerenoid indicated that it was built to attain great speed, and yet as I stepped into it through a door that closed flush with the rounded sides, I was astonished at seeing no traces of machinery. Instantly I became aware of the extraordinary means of propulsion, however, and so simple, yet so effective, was it, that I could not restrain a cry of admiration at this new evidence of scientific progress.

Atmospheric pressure, instead of retarding speed, was employed to produce it. Under the floor of the car and occupying the entire rear half, was a chamber of steel, five or six feet broad at one end, and tapering down with the sides of the aerenoid until it reached the stern, where it ended in an opening one inch in diameter. By a chemical process the air in the chamber was exhausted, instantly causing a vacuum. Immediately the air outside the car rushed in through the small opening at the rear end, with such great force as to cause a concussion against the forward and broad end of the chamber, thus driving the aerenoid ahead. So quick was this action that, when going at great speed, more than one hundred exhaustions would occur in a minute. Simple though this means of propulsion was, gravity having been overcome and the long pointed body of the aerenoid offering little resistance, the speed thus attained was remarkable.

Taking his position at the forward end, where a window in the top of the car afforded a view ahead, Reon now moved a lever at his side and we rose until clear of the observatory building. We then commenced to glide along without either vibration or sound. Slowly we made our way through the many small aerenoids that floated about us, and a soft light, coming from a canopy containing the substance used to illuminate the observatory, clearly revealed the occupants to me, as we passed close by them. I now noticed that the women were wonderfully beautiful--beauty that was possible only where sickness had been unknown for hundreds of years.

Leaving this happy gathering, we passed over what appeared to be a river about a mile broad, whose banks rose perpendicularly a hundred feet or more from the water. These were illuminated with lights, placed every hundred yards or so, giving it the appearance of a broad city street stretching as far as the eye could see. At once it occurred to me that this was one of the wonderful canals, visible even from Earth, and as we passed over it I observed another canal, equal in proportions, running parallel. Although both were on level ground, their waters were flowing rapidly in different directions. What new wonder was this!

Into this second canal our aerenoid now turned, sinking slowly until within thirty feet from the surface. Gradually our speed increased until the lights along the banks formed one long unbroken line. One hundred miles a minute we sped along, and yet without the least vibration or sound. At such a speed it was possible to encircle Mars in seventy minutes, almost, I thought, as rapidly as could Puck in “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” who boasted of putting a girdle round the Earth in forty minutes.

On we flew down the walled-in track, passing numerous other canals equally as broad, flowing into it, until within ten minutes a faint gray light appeared. It was daylight, and in a few moments sunlight crowned the banks on either side of us. Even as I looked the sun itself appeared, and in the space of fifty seconds it was high in the heavens. In fifteen minutes we had covered almost a quarter of the globe, and now it was the middle of the afternoon.

The importance of having speedways in which to confine aerenoids, travelling at the terrific velocity of one hundred miles a minute, was obvious, and what could be better adapted to the purpose than these magnificent waterways, which completely cover the surface of the planet with such geometrical exactness, that they have always been a source of great wonder to astronomers on Earth. Thousands and thousands of years old, the method of constructing this gigantic system of canals remains enshrouded in the same mystery to the Martians, as that which surrounds the building of the pyramids in Egypt.

I was now made aware of another valuable use to which the canals were put, in fact a most important adjunct to the operation of an aerenoid. The checking of such terrific speed would be impossible, were it not for the water in these canals. We had covered several hundred miles without propulsion, and our speed had not decreased perceptibly, when, moving a lever at his side, Reon turned the aerenoid slightly downward. In an instant we were plunging along the surface of the water, sending high into the air great clouds of spray, which formed snow-white banks on either side of the wake, and made a most remarkable picture. I now realized why this high-speed aerenoid resembled a submarine boat in appearance.

Gradually our speed was reduced until, moving at not more than a mile a minute, we gently left the surface of the water and proceeded down several branch canals. At last we slowly rose above the top of the canal banks. Higher and higher we ascended until we were about a thousand feet in the air, and then proceeded at a greatly reduced speed.

A veritable fairyland lay beneath us. Stretching as far as the eye could reach lay a landscape of pink and green, dotted with white marble buildings of magnificent architecture. Narrow paths, shaded by trees, could be seen winding in and out over rustic bridges and beside sparkling brooks. But nowhere did there appear either cities or towns--not even a road was there to indicate a volume of traffic in any particular direction.

No small aerenoids were to be seen floating about, and as the air in our car was now very close, I realized that in consequence of the light atmosphere of Mars, the sun’s direct rays gave great heat. It was evidently the custom for Martians to remain as much as possible under cover in the daytime.

Opening the door of the aerenoid to obtain a fresh supply of air, I was at once struck with the remarkable appearance of the sky, which was intensely blue in color, but of such a dark shade as to appear almost black. It presented all the appearance of night, so many stars were visible and so brightly did they shine, while the sun blazed forth with such brilliancy from the surrounding blackness, that it was impossible to look westward without shading the eyes. I now appreciated the enormous advantage of having an atmosphere as dense as Earth’s, which diffused the light to a much more comfortable extent. But the appearance of the Martian sky was magnificent, and I stood lost in admiration until, with a hardly perceptible shock, I discovered that we had come to rest upon a ledge which projected from the circular balcony of a most palatial building.

Jumping out, I moored the aerenoid by means of ropes that were attached to the balcony for that purpose. I was aware that this was my duty upon landing, and when I had made everything secure, Reon left his place at the levers and joined me.