Prologue The Rocket Satellite

: After London

In the depths of space, some twenty thousand miles from the earth, the

body of Professor Jameson within its rocket container cruised upon an

endless journey, circling the gigantic sphere. The rocket was a

satellite of the huge, revolving world around which it held to its

orbit. In the year 1958, Professor Jameson had sought for a plan whereby

he might preserve his body indefinitely after his death. He had worked

long a
d hard upon the subject.



Since the time of the Pharaohs, the human race had looked for a means by

which the dead might be preserved against the ravages of time. Great had

been the art of the Egyptians in the embalming of their deceased, a

practice which was later lost to humanity of the ensuing mechanical age,

never to be rediscovered. But even the embalming of the Egyptians--so

Professor Jameson had argued--would be futile in the face of millions of

years, the dissolution of the corpses being just as eventual as

immediate cremation following death.



The professor had looked for a means by which the body could be

preserved perfectly forever. But eventually he had come to the

conclusion that nothing on earth is unchangeable beyond a certain limit

of time. Just as long as he sought an earthly means of preservation, he

was doomed to disappointment. All earthly elements are composed of atoms

which are forever breaking down and building up, but never destroying

themselves. A match may be burned, but the atoms are still unchanged,

having resolved themselves into smoke, carbon dioxide, ashes, and

certain basic elements. It was clear to the professor that he could

never accomplish his purpose if he were to employ one system of atomic

structure, such as embalming fluid or other concoction, to preserve

another system of atomic structure, such as the human body, when all

atomic structure is subject to universal change, no matter how slow.



He had then soliloquized upon the possibility of preserving the human

body in its state of death until the end of all earthly time--to that

day when the earth would return to the sun from which it had sprung.

Quite suddenly one day he had conceived the answer to the puzzling

problem which obsessed his mind, leaving him awed with its wild, uncanny

potentialities.



He would have his body shot into space enclosed in a rocket to become a

satellite of the earth as long as the earth continued to exist. He

reasoned logically. Any material substance, whether of organic or

inorganic origin, cast into the depths of space would exist

indefinitely. He had visualized his dead body enclosed in a rocket

flying off into the illimitable maw of space. He would remain in perfect

preservation, while on earth millions of generations of mankind would

live and die, their bodies to molder into the dust of the forgotten

past. He would exist in this unchanged manner until that day when

mankind, beneath a cooling sun, should fade out forever in the chill,

thin atmosphere of a dying world. And still his body would remain intact

and as perfect in its rocket container as on that day of the far-gone

past when it had left the earth to be hurled out on its career. What a

magnificent idea!



At first he had been assailed with doubts. Suppose his funeral rocket

landed upon some other planet or, drawn by the pull of the great sun,

were thrown into the flaming folds of the incandescent sphere? Then the

rocket might continue on out of the solar system, plunging through the

endless seas of space for millions of years, to finally enter the solar

system of some far-off star, as meteors often enter ours. Suppose his

rocket crashed upon a planet, or the star itself, or became a captive

satellite of some celestial body?



It had been at this juncture that the idea of his rocket becoming the

satellite of the earth had presented itself, and he had immediately

incorporated it into his scheme. The professor had figured out the

amount of radium necessary to carry the rocket far enough away from the

earth so that it would not turn around and crash, and still be not so

far away but what the earth's gravitational attraction would keep it

from leaving the vicinity of the earth and the solar system. Like the

moon, it would forever revolve around the earth.



He had chosen an orbit sixty-five thousand miles from the earth for his

rocket to follow. The only fears he had entertained concerned the huge

meteors which careened through space at tremendous rates of speed. He

had overcome this obstacle, however, and had eliminated the

possibilities of a collision with these stellar juggernauts. In the

rocket were installed radium repulsion rays which swerved all

approaching meteors from the path of the rocket as they entered the

vicinity of the space wanderer.



The aged professor had prepared for every contingency, and had set down

to rest from his labors, reveling in the stupendous, unparalleled

results he would obtain. Never would his body undergo decay; and never

would his bones bleach to return to the dust of the earth from which all

men originally came and to which they must return. His body would remain

millions of years in a perfectly preserved state, untouched by the hoary

palm of such time as only geologists and astronomers can conceive.



His efforts would surpass even the wildest dreams of H. Rider Haggard,

who depicted the wondrous, embalming practices of the ancient nation of

Kor in his immortal novel, "She," wherein Holly, under the escort of the

incomparable Ayesha, looked upon the magnificent, lifelike masterpieces

of embalming by the long-gone peoples of Kor.



With the able assistance of a nephew, who carried out his instructions

and wishes following his death, Professor Jameson was sent upon his

pilgrimage into space within the rocket he himself had built. The nephew

and heir kept the secret forever locked in his heart.



* * * * *



Generation after generation had passed upon its way. Gradually humanity

had come to die out, finally disappearing from the earth altogether.

Mankind was later replaced by various other forms of life which

dominated the globe for their allotted spaces of time before they too

became extinct. The years piled up on one another, running into

millions, and still the Jameson Satellite kept its lonely vigil around

the earth, gradually closing the distance between satellite and planet,

yielding reluctantly to the latter's powerful attraction.



Forty million years later, its orbit ranged some twenty thousand miles

from the earth while the dead world edged ever nearer the cooling sun

whose dull, red ball covered a large expanse of the sky. Surrounding

the flaming sphere, many of the stars could be perceived through the

earth's thin, rarefied atmosphere. As the earth cut in slowly and

gradually toward the solar luminary, so was the moon revolving ever

nearer the earth, appearing like a great gem glowing in the twilight

sky.



The rocket containing the remains of Professor Jameson continued its

endless travel around the great ball of the earth whose rotation had now

ceased entirely--one side forever facing the dying sun. There it pursued

its lonely way, a cosmic coffin, accompanied by its funeral cortege of

scintillating stars amid the deep silence of the eternal space which

enshrouded it. Solitary it remained, except for the occasional passing

of a meteor flitting by at a remarkable speed on its aimless journey

through the vacuum between the far-flung worlds.



Would the satellite follow its orbit to the world's end, or would its

supply of radium soon exhaust itself after so many eons of time,

converting the rocket into the prey of the first large meteor which

chanced that way? Would it some day return to the earth as its nearer

approach portended, and increase its acceleration in a long arc to crash

upon the surface of the dead planet? And when the rocket terminated its

career, would the body of Professor Jameson be found perfectly preserved

or merely a crumbled mound of dust?



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