Round the Moon, Jules Verne [e novels to read online .txt] 📗

if you do not take into account the refraction produced by the terrestrial atmosphere, not if you do take that refraction into account. Thus, let delta be the horizontal parallax and p the apparent semidiameter⁠—”

“Ouf!” said Michel, “half of v zero square! Do speak the vulgar tongue, man of algebra!”

“Well, then, in popular language,” answered Barbicane, “the mean distance between the moon and the earth being sixty terrestrial radii, the length of the cone of shadow, by dint of refraction, is reduced to less than forty-two radii. It follows, therefore, that during the eclipses the moon is beyond the cone of pure shade, and the sun sends it not only rays from its edges, but also rays from its centre.”

“Then,” said Michel in a grumbling tone, “why is there any eclipse when there ought to be none?”

“Solely because the solar rays are weakened by the refraction, and the atmosphere which they traverse extinguishes the greater part of them.”

“That reason satisfies me,” answered Michel; “besides, we shall see for ourselves when we get there. Now, Barbicane, do you believe that the moon is an ancient comet?”

“What an idea!”

“Yes,” replied Michel, with amiable conceit, “I have a few ideas of that kind.”

“But that idea does not originate with Michel,” answered Nicholl.

“Then I am only a plagiarist.”

“Without doubt,” answered Nicholl. “According to the testimony of the ancients, the Arcadians pretended that their ancestors inhabited the earth before the moon became her satellite. Starting from this fact, certain savants think the moon was a comet which its orbit one day brought near enough to the earth to be retained by terrestrial attraction.”

“And what truth is there in that hypothesis?” asked Michel.

“None,” answered Barbicane, “and the proof is that the moon has not kept a trace of the gaseous envelope that always accompanies comets.”

“But,” said Nicholl, “might not the moon, before becoming the earth’s satellite, have passed near enough to the sun to leave all her gaseous substances by evaporation?”

“It might, friend Nicholl, but it is not probable.”

“Why?”

“Because⁠—because, I really don’t know.”

“Ah, what hundreds of volumes we might fill with what we don’t know!” exclaimed Michel. “But I say,” he continued, “what time is it?”

“Three o’clock,” answered Nicholl.

“How the time goes,” said Michel, “in the conversation of savants like us! Decidedly I feel myself getting too learned! I feel that I am becoming a well of knowledge!”

So saying, Michel climbed to the roof of the projectile, “in order better to observe the moon,” he pretended. In the meanwhile his companions watched the vault of space through the lower port-light. There was nothing fresh to signalise.

When Michel Ardan came down again he approached the lateral port-light, and suddenly uttered an exclamation of surprise.

“What is the matter now?” asked Barbicane.

The president approached the glass and saw a sort of flattened sack floating outside at some yards’ distance from the projectile. This object seemed motionless like the bullet, and was consequently animated with the same ascensional movement.

“Whatever can that machine be?” said Michel Ardan. “Is it one of the corpuscles of space which our projectile holds in its radius of attraction, and which will accompany it as far as the moon?”

“What I am astonished at,” answered Nicholl, “is that the specific weight of this body, which is certainly superior to that of the bullet, allows it to maintain itself so rigorously on its level.”

“Nicholl,” said Barbicane, after a moment’s reflection, “I do not know what that object is, but I know perfectly why it keeps on a level with the projectile.”

“Why, pray?”

“Because we are floating in the void where bodies fall or move⁠—which is the same thing⁠—with equal speed whatever their weight or form may be. It is the air which, by its resistance, creates differences in weight. When you pneumatically create void in a tube, the objects you throw down it, either lead or feathers, fall with the same rapidity. Here in space you have the same cause and the same effect.”

“True,” said Nicholl, “and all we throw out of the projectile will accompany us to the moon.”

“Ah! what fools we are!” cried Michel.

“Why this qualification?” asked Barbicane.

“Because we ought to have filled the projectile with useful objects, books, instruments, tools, etc. We could have thrown them all out, and they would all have followed in our wake! But, now I think of it, why can’t we take a walk outside this? Why can’t we go into space through the port-light? What delight it would be to be thus suspended in ether, more favoured even than birds that are forced to flap their wings to sustain them!”

“Agreed,” said Barbicane, “but how are we to breathe?”

“Confounded air to fail so inopportunely!”

“But if it did not fail, Michel, your density being inferior to that of the projectile, you would soon remain behind.”

“Then it is a vicious circle.”

“All that is most vicious.”

“And we must remain imprisoned in our vehicle.”

“Yes, we must.”

“Ah!” cried Michel in a formidable voice.

“What is the matter with you?” asked Nicholl.

“I know, I guess what this pretended asteroid is! It is not a broken piece of planet!”

“What is it, then?” asked Nicholl.

“It is our unfortunate dog! It is Diana’s husband!”

In fact, this deformed object, reduced to nothing, and quite unrecognisable, was the body of Satellite flattened like a bagpipe without wind, and mounting, forever mounting!

VII A Moment of Intoxication

Thus a curious but logical, strange yet logical phenomenon took place under these singular conditions. Every object thrown out of the projectile would follow the same trajectory and only stop when it did. That furnished a text for conversation which the whole evening could not exhaust. The emotion of the three travellers increased as they approached the end of their journey. They expected unforeseen incidents, fresh phenomena, and nothing would have astonished them under present circumstances. Their excited imagination outdistanced the projectile, the speed of which diminished notably without their feeling it. But the moon grew larger before their eyes, and they thought they had only to stretch out their hands to touch