by Jules Verne
CHAPTER IX.
THE CONSEQUENCES OF A DEVIATION.
Barbicane had now no fear of the issue of the journey, at least as faras the projectile's impulsive force was concerned; its own speed wouldcarry it beyond the neutral line; it would certainly not return to earth;it would certainly not remain motionless on the line of attraction. Onesingle hypothesis remained to be realized, the arrival of the projectileat its destination by the action of the lunar attraction.
It was in reality a fall of 8296 leagues on an orb, it is true, whereweight could only be reckoned at one-sixth of terrestrial weight; aformidable fall, nevertheless, and one against which every precautionmust be taken without delay.
These precautions were of two sorts, some to deaden the shock when theprojectile should touch the lunar soil, others to delay the fall, andconsequently make it less violent.
To deaden the shock, it was a pity that Barbicane was no longer able toemploy the means which had so ably weakened the shock at departure, thatis to say, by water used as springs and the partition-breaks.
The partitions still existed but water failed, for they could not usetheir reserve, which was precious, in case during the first days theliquid element should be found wanting on lunar soil.
And indeed this reserve would have been quite insufficient for a spring.The layer of water stored in the projectile at their departure, and onwhich the waterproof disc lay, occupied no less than three feet in depth,and spread over a surface of not less than fifty-four square feet. Besides,the cistern did not contain one fifth part of it; they must thereforegive up this efficient means of deadening the shock of arrival. Happily,Barbicane, not content with employing water, had furnished the movabledisc with strong spring plugs, destined to lessen the shock against thebase after the breaking of the horizontal partitions. These plugs stillexisted; they had only to readjust them and replace the movable disc;every piece, easy to handle, as their weight was now scarcely felt, wasquickly mounted.
The different pieces were fitted without trouble, it being only a matterof bolts and screws; tools were not wanting, and soon the reinstateddisc lay on its steel plugs, like a table on its legs. One inconvenienceresulted from the replacing of the disc, the lower window was blockedup; thus it was impossible for the travellers to observe the moon fromthat opening while they were being precipitated perpendicularly uponher; but they were obliged to give it up; even by the side openings theycould still see vast lunar regions, as an aeronaut sees the earth fromhis car.
This replacing of the disc was at least an hour's work. It was past twelvewhen all preparations were finished. Barbicane took fresh observationson the inclination of the projectile, but to his annoyance it had notturned over sufficiently for its fall; it seemed to take a curve parallelto the lunar disc. The orb of night shone splendidly into space, whileopposite, the orb of day blazed with fire.
Their situation began to make them uneasy.
"Are we reaching our destination?" said Nicholl.
"Let us act as if we were about reaching it," replied Barbicane.
"You are sceptical," retorted Michel Ardan. "We shall arrive, and that,too, quicker than we like."
This answer brought Barbicane back to his preparations, and he occupiedhimself with placing the contrivances intended to break their descent.We may remember the scene of the meeting held at Tampa Town, in Florida,when Captain Nicholl came forward as Barbicane's enemy and Michel Ardan'sadversary. To Captain Nicholl's maintaining that the projectile wouldsmash like glass, Michel replied that he would break their fall by meansof rockets properly placed.
Thus, powerful fireworks, taking their starting-point from the base andbursting outside, could, by producing a recoil, check to a certain degreethe projectile's speed. These rockets were to burn in space, it is true;but oxygen would not fail them, for they could supply themselves withit, like the lunar volcanoes, the burning of which has never yet beenstopped by the want of atmosphere round the moon.
Barbicane had accordingly supplied himself with these fireworks, enclosedin little steel guns, which could be screwed on to the base of theprojectile. Inside, these guns were flush with the bottom; outside, theyprotruded about eighteen inches. There were twenty of them. An openingleft in the disc allowed them to light the match with which each wasprovided. All the effect was felt outside. The burning mixture had beenalready rammed into each gun. They had, then, nothing to do but to raisethe metallic buffers fixed in the base, and replace them by the guns,which fitted closely in their places.
This new work was finished about three o'clock, and after taking allthese precautions there remained but to wait. But the projectile wasperceptibly nearing the moon, and evidently succumbed to her influenceto a certain degree; though its own velocity also drew it in an obliquedirection. From these conflicting influences resulted a line which mightbecome a tangent. But it was certain that the projectile would not falldirectly on the moon; for its lower part, by reason of its weight, oughtto be turned towards her.
Barbicane's uneasiness increased as he saw his projectile resist theinfluence of gravitation. The Unknown was opening before him, the Unknownin interplanetary space. The man of science thought he had foreseen theonly three hypotheses possible--the return to the earth, the return tothe moon, or stagnation on the neutral line; and here a fourth hypothesis,big with all the terrors of the Infinite, surged up inopportunely. Toface it without flinching, one must be a resolute savant like Barbicane,a phlegmatic being like Nicholl, or an audacious adventurer like MichelArdan.
Conversation was started upon this subject. Other men would haveconsidered the question from a practical point of view; they would haveasked themselves whither their projectile carriage was carrying them.Not so with these; they sought for the cause which produced this effect.
"So we have become diverted from our route," said Michel; "but why?"
"I very much fear," answered Nicholl, "that, in spite of all precautionstaken, the Columbiad was not fairly pointed. An error, however small,would be enough to throw us out of the moon's attraction."
"Then they must have aimed badly?" asked Michel.
"I do not think so," replied Barbicane. "The perpendicularity of the gunwas exact, its direction to the zenith of the spot incontestible; andthe moon passing to the zenith of the spot, we ought to reach it at thefull. There is another reason, but it escapes me."
"Are we not arriving too late?" asked Nicholl.
"Too late?" said Barbicane.
"Yes," continued Nicholl. "The Cambridge Observatory's note says that thetransit ought to be accomplished in ninety-seven hours thirteen minutesand twenty seconds; which means to say, that _sooner_ the moon will _not_be at the point indicated, and that _later_ it will have passed it."
"True," replied Barbicane. "But we started the 1st of December, atthirteen minutes and twenty-five seconds to eleven at night; and weought to arrive on the 5th at midnight, at the exact moment when the moonwould be full; and we are now at the 5th of December. It is now half pastthree in the evening; half past eight ought to see us at the end of ourjourney. Why do we not arrive?"
"Might it not be an excess of speed?" answered Nicholl; "for we know nowthat its initial velocity was greater than they supposed."
"No! a hundred times, No!" replied Barbicane. "An excess of speed, if thedirection of the projectile had been right, would not have prevented usreaching the moon. No, there has been a deviation. We have been turnedout of our course."
"By whom? by what?" asked Nicholl.
"I cannot say," replied Barbicane.
"Very well, then, Barbicane," said Michel, "do you wish to know myopinion on the subject of finding out this deviation?"
"Speak."
"I would not give half a dollar to know it. That we have deviated is afact. Where we are going to matters little; we shall soon see. Since weare being borne along in space we shall end by falling into some centreof attraction or other."
Michel Ardan's indifference did not content Barbicane. Not that he
wasuneasy about the future, but he wanted to know at any cost _why_ hisprojectile had deviated.
But the projectile continued its course sideways to the moon, and withit the mass of things thrown out. Barbicane could even prove, by theelevations which served as landmarks upon the moon, which was only 2000leagues distant, that its speed was becoming uniform--fresh proof thatthere was no fall. Its impulsive force still prevailed over the lunarattraction, but the projectile's course was certainly bringing it nearerto the moon, and they might hope that at a nearer point the weight,predominating, would cause a decided fall.
The three friends, having nothing better to do, continued theirobservations; but they could not yet determine the topographical positionof the satellite; every relief was levelled under the reflection of thesolar rays.
They watched thus through the side windows until eight o'clock at night.The moon had then grown so large in their eyes that it filled half ofthe firmament. The sun on one side, and the orb of night on the other,flooded the projectile with light.
At that moment Barbicane thought he could estimate the distance whichseparated them from their aim at no more than 700 leagues. The speed ofthe projectile seemed to him to be more than 200 yards, or about 170leagues a second. Under the centripetal force, the base of the projectiletended towards the moon; but the centrifugal still prevailed; and it wasprobable that its rectilineal course would be changed to a curve of somesort, the nature of which they could not at present determine.
Barbicane was still seeking the solution of his insoluble problem. Hourspassed without any result. The projectile was evidently _nearing_ themoon, but it was also evident that it would never _reach_ her. As to thenearest distance at which it would pass her, that must be the result ofthe two forces, attraction and repulsion, affecting its motion.
"I ask but one thing," said Michel; "that we may pass near enough topenetrate her secrets."
"Cursed be the thing that has caused our projectile to deviate from itscourse," cried Nicholl.
And, as if a light had suddenly broken in upon his mind, Barbicaneanswered, "Then cursed be the meteor which crossed our path."
"What?" said Michel Ardan.
"What do you mean?" exclaimed Nicholl.
"I mean," said Barbicane in a decided tone, "I mean that our deviationis owing solely to our meeting with this erring body."
"But it did not even brush us as it passed," said Michel.
"What does that matter? Its mass, compared to that of our projectile,was enormous, and its attraction was enough to influence our course."
"So little?" cried Nicholl.
"Yes, Nicholl; but however little it might be," replied Barbicane, "in adistance of 84,000 leagues, it wanted no more to make us miss the moon."
