The Twilight Of Space

: Secrets of Space
: Pharaoh's Broker

"Shall I come up into your compartment for the operation?" I asked.



"No; for this first time we will pump out my compartment, as I wish to

observe from the rear port-hole the action of the air which we set

free."



The bulkhead, with its bevelled edge, was therefore fitted into the

opening between the compartments, and I took the first turn at the lever

handle of the air-pump, while the doctor observed from the window. I had

given the handle less than a dozen vigorous strokes when the doctor

suddenly exclaimed,--



"Stop! Wait a moment;" and he began pulling at the bulkhead, which was

already rather tightly wedged in by the air pressure. "I have left the

rabbit inside," he said, when he found breath to speak. And poor little

bunny's heart was beginning to beat fast when he was rescued.



Then we began again. The doctor watched the escaping air for some time,

evidently forgetting that I was at all interested in it.



"All quite as I expected," he said at last. "Only I had forgotten about

the snow."



"Nothing will ever be very new or interesting to you," I put in; "but

pray remember I am here, and rapidly getting empty of breath and full of

curiosity."



Then he relieved me at the pump handle, and this is what I saw from the

port-hole: The air escaping from the discharge pipe of the air-pump was

visible, and looked like dull, grey steam. Immediately on being set free

it swelled and expanded greatly, and sank away from us slowly. But at

the instant of its expansion the cold thus produced froze the moisture

of the air into a fine fleecy snow, which lasted but a second as it sank

away from us and melted in the heat, which the thermometer showed to be

close upon ninety-five degrees. This miniature snowstorm was seen for an

instant only after each down motion of the pump handle.



"Where is this air going?" I inquired. "The little clouds of it seem to

drop away from us like lead; but that must be because of our speed."



"It is falling back to the Earth, to join the outer layer of rare

atmosphere there. If we had a positive current instead of a negative

one, the air would not leave us, but we should gradually be surrounded

by an atmosphere of our own, which we should retain until some planet,

whose gravitational attraction is vastly stronger than ours, stole it

from us. When we begin to fall into Mars, we shall acquire such an

enveloping atmosphere; and we can draw upon it and re-compress it if our

inner supply should become exhausted."



"If this air is falling home to earth," said I, "we could send messages

back in that manner."



"We can drop them back at any time, regardless of the air," he answered,

and then added suddenly, "but it will make a beautiful experiment to

drop out a bottle now."



He ceased pumping, and opening a bottle of asparagus tips, he placed

them in a bowl, and prepared to drop out the bottle. I took my pencil

and wrote this message to go inside,--"Behold, I have decreed a judgment

upon the Earth; for it shall rain pickle bottles and biscuit tins for

the period of forty days, because of the wickedness of the world, unless

she repent!" And I pictured to myself the perplexity of the poor devil

who should see this message come straight down from heaven!



In order to make his experiment more successful, the doctor put in half

a dozen bullets from one of the rifles, to make the weight more

perceptible. Then he put the bottle into the discharging cylinder, and

preparing to push it out he stooped over the port-hole. At a signal from

him I gave the pump handle several quick, successive motions, and at the

same instant he let drop the bottle. At once he cried out,--



"Beautiful! and just as I thought."



"But I didn't see it!" I protested. "What was it?"



"The instant the bottle was released the discharged air was immediately

attracted toward it, and gradually surrounded it entirely. It was like a

little planet with an atmosphere of its own, as they fell back to the

Earth together."



"But I couldn't see it; I had to pump," I complained. "We must do it

again."



"We shall soon have our bottled things all emptied out on plates to dry

up and spoil," he objected. So I emptied a biscuit tin this time, and

delaying for no message, I put it in the discharging cylinder. Then I

bent over the port-hole and gave the signal for the pumping. As I thrust

out the tin I was astonished to see the lid pop off the first thing. The

quick expansion of the air inside it did that. This air, as well as the

air from the discharge pipe, seemed to flee from it instead of

surrounding it, as the doctor had said. I continued watching so long

that he finally said,--



"Hasn't it fallen out of sight yet?"



"No; it is not falling away swiftly as the air does. It is following the

projectile! It is not gathering any air about it as you said it would.

It does not quite keep up with us; but considering our speed, it is

doing remarkably well!"



The doctor was not inclined to believe me until he had looked for

himself. He watched and pondered for a minute or two. Then his surprise

ceased, and he spoke in that assured way which always irritated me.



"Quite natural, after all," he said. "That biscuit can is made of thin

sheet-iron with a surface coating of tin. The iron has become magnetized

by induction, and the Earth repels the can just as it repels us. It will

follow us to the dead-line, and probably on to Mars, unless the

sheet-iron loses its polarization. If we had cast out a thing of solid

iron, it would rush ahead of us, instead of falling a little behind, as

this does, for it would have no dead weight to carry. But we could not

put such a thing out of the rear end, for no force would make it fall

that way. If we put it out of the forward port-hole, it would beat us in

the race toward Mars."



I remarked to the doctor that the air-pump seemed to be incorrectly

built, for its action was strangely difficult in the reverse manner that

it should have been. The down strokes went by themselves with a quick

snap, but the up strokes were as if against pressure, and the moment the

handle was released it flew down again. He had not tested the pump at

the surface, as it was of a well-known make, but it certainly seemed to

work backwards. Moreover, the more nearly we had a compartment emptied

of air, the more difficult the pumping should become, but here again the

reverse seemed to be the case, for the longer we worked the easier the

up strokes became.



The temperature of the projectile was still fairly comfortable, and the

doctor allowed the condensed air to issue very slowly into the partial

vacuum in his compartment until it produced a barometric pressure of

twenty-seven. Then we pulled back the bulkhead, and when the new

atmosphere had mixed with the old in my compartment, a pressure of

twenty-eight resulted.



"That is about the way the barometer stands during tempests at sea,"

remarked the doctor. I could not notice much difference from the air we

had previously had. Possibly it was fresher and slightly more

exhilarating.



The effort at the pump had made us both hungry again, and I prepared

from meat extracts a warm and rather thick gravy to put over the

asparagus tips. I attempted to pour it, but it was so light that its

sticky consistency prevented it from running. We had a hundred such

examples daily of the changes which lack of weight caused in the

simplest operations. With sandwiches made of biscuits and condensed

meat, we eked out a luncheon. This must have been about noon, for when

it was over I remember noticing that we no longer needed the gas in the

compartment, for there was a gradually increasing mellow light outside.



"Are we already emerging from the shadow?" I inquired eagerly.



"No, not yet," replied the doctor. "But we are now entering its

illuminated core. I must prepare to photograph the strange appearance of

the Sun that we shall see presently."



I hastened to the port-hole, and did not leave until it was all over.

What I then saw was one of the most beautiful things of the whole trip.

The light outside was not bright, but soft and dreamy, like the first

twilight after a rich day of summer. The great corona all around the

outer edge of the Earth was the most magnificent appearance I have ever

seen. It was not at all dazzling, but had the melting shades, first of a

sunrise and then of a gorgeous sunset. We had missed the gradual

appearance of the phenomenon, but we had a good view of its highest

splendour. The colours were continually but slowly changing, and finally

the darker hues gradually suffused and dyed the pinks and crimsons.



The Earth was now about three times the diameter of a rising Full Moon,

and the corona was about a quarter her width, and looked as if twenty

shell-pink suns were set one against the other and overlapping all about

the edge of the dark orb.



"How do you know that is not really the extending edge of the Sun?" I

asked the doctor. "Perhaps we are already far enough away to see it all

about the Earth like that."



"If that were really the Sun, the light from his extending edge would

illuminate the surface of the Earth towards us. The planet's outline

would be irregular and partly glowing, but you see it is quite dull and

dark, and the outline is most plainly visible."



In rapt attention I watched the delicate shell-pink change to a deeper

hue of orange, and then our twilight waned a little and turned a sombre

grey. Presently the corona glowed a rich maroon, gradually dying to a

luminous purple, which slowly deepened and darkened, and finally melted

into the general blackness. And lo! we were in the shadow again, and the

dreamily beautiful panorama was over.



"It must have lasted nearly an hour," said the doctor. "I am sorry we

did not notice the beginning, but it must have commenced with the same

dull shades we saw at the end, and gradually changed to brighter

colours. I secured three negatives when the glow was most intense."



"Then we have had a waxing and a waning twilight coming together in the

middle of our night. And the corona was like a sunrise, followed

immediately by a sunset," I exclaimed.



"And why shouldn't it appear so?" said the matter-of-fact doctor.

"Twilight is the commonest phenomenon of refraction with which we are

acquainted, and sunrise and sunset are merely a mixture of refraction

and reflection. There is nothing new about it."



"Now, Doctor, we must remain friends, but you shall not continually

tarnish my poetry with your accursed science! I thank my Creator that

He made me ignorant enough to admire the beauties of nature. You are

continually peeping behind the scenes, and pointing out the grease

paints, the lime-lights and the sham effects. Let me enjoy the beauty of

the tableau, no matter how it is produced. I would give all of your pat

knowledge for that feeling of profound awe which rises in the untutored

breast at beholding the magnificent grandeur of unfamiliar nature."



"When your ecstasy has quite passed, I shall appreciate a little cold

mutton and biscuits, and then we must pump out again," he replied.