Journey Through the Impossible

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Journey Through the Impossible Page 8

by Jules Verne


  Ox: Reality, George Hatteras, is everything you see, everything that is around you. It is your glory, which is already great and will soon be even more dazzling.

  George: Speak. Explain yourself.

  Eva: Don't listen to him, George. Don't listen to him.

  Ox: I promised your new subjects, in your name, that the work begun by Atlas would be completed by you.

  Eva: You dare to say this?

  Ox: I say ... I say to the people of Atlantis that your king will carry out the great project that has been interrupted. Atlas, it is said, was struck down by a thunderbolt. But your king will answer Jupiter with another thunderbolt, newly created by the genius of man. Carried by that same thunderbolt, launched into space by bronze or steel, he will traverse the infinite and rise to celestial light.

  George (wild with delight): Indeed he shall!

  Eva: Ah! All is lost!

  All: Glory to him! Glory to the son of Hatteras!

  Volsius: Don't despair. This dream will soon disappear, and with reality his sanity will return, but perhaps for the last time.

  George: After the bowels of the earth and the depths of the ocean will come space, the infinite, Heaven!

  (Horsemen bring in a horse, which George mounts, and they are raised up on a richly carpeted shield.)

  All: All hail! All hail!

  (Curtain)

  END OF ACT II

  A room at the Gun Club in the United States, specially decorated with panoplies. Columns made up of cannons are supported by mortars. On the walls hang strings of bombs, necklaces of missiles, garlands of shells. On the right, Barbicane,i the club president, is sitting at his desk, on which there is an array of revolvers which he uses as a bell to restore order by firing shots in the air from time to time. Maston2 and other club members occupy the benches downstage. It is daytime. As the curtain rises, the uproar in the assembly is at its peak.

  First Group: Yes! Yes! Yes!

  Second Group: No! No! No!

  Barbicane: My dear colleagues....

  First Group: To hell with the motion!

  Second Group: And with the people who moved it.

  Barbicane: A little silence, if you please!

  First Group: Yes! Yes! Yes!

  Second Group: No! No! No!

  (Barbicane fires a revolver)

  An Usher: Silence, gentlemen.

  Maston: Let President Barbicane speak. What a president, gentlemen, what a president!

  Barbicane: Gentlemen, the question is very simple, and it would have been settled already if you had not been making so much noise.

  First Member: But here at the Gun Club, we are all artillerymen.

  Maston: And what artillerymen, gentlemen! Artillerymen and Americans!

  First Member: That means we are doubly entitled to make a noise.

  First Group: Yes! Yes! Yes!

  Second Group: No! No! No!

  Barbicane: Gentlemen, I do not believe I have gone too far....

  First Member: An artilleryman could never go too far.

  Maston: No farther than his projectile will carry.

  Barbicane: Gentlemen!

  First Group: Yes! Yes! Yes!

  Second Group: No! No! No!

  (Barbicane fires his revolver)

  The Usher: Silence, gentlemen!

  (Silence is restored.)

  Barbicane: Gentlemen, you remember the circumstances under which our original experiment was carried out. A gigantic cannon, a Columbiad,3 was set up on the ground in Florida.4 A projectile was placed in it, in which three travellers took their places: my friend Captain Nicholl.5 .. .

  Maston: What a captain, gentlemen, what a captain!

  Barbicane: Our friend Ardan, the French interpreter....

  Maston: What a Frenchman, gentlemen, what a Frenchman!

  Barbicane: And myself, your president.

  Maston: What a president!

  Barbicane: But because it was not aimed accurately, we did not reach our objective. Our projectile merely circled the Moon, then came back and fell into the Pacific Ocean. Now, the Columbiad is still there. All we have to do is reload it. Should we resume the experiment and send a second projectile toward the Moon-and make sure we reach it this time?

  First Group: Yes! Yes! Yes!

  Second Group: No! No! No!

  Barbicane: I believe I understood you to say yes?

  Second Group: No! No! No!

  Barbicane: Or maybe it was no.

  First Group: Yes! Yes! Yes!

  Both Groups Together: No! No! No! Yes! Yes! Yes!

  (General uproar: Barbicane fires his revolver

  The Usher: Silence, gentlemen!

  Maston: For the honor of the club, the experiment must be repeated.

  All: Call the question!

  Maston (to his neighbor): I forbid you to vote against the motion!

  First Member: I forbid you to vote for it.

  Maston (angrily): Will you listen to reason?

  First Member: How can I listen to reason when you are being so unreasonable?

  Maston: Sir!

  First Member: Sir!

  Barbicane: Gentlemen, order, please! We are not in parliament here, for God's sake!

  First Member: Name your weapon.

  Maston: Name yours.

  First Member: A repeating rifle.

  Maston: A revolver.

  First Member: In an hour!

  Maston: Right now!

  Barbicane: Gentlemen!

  First Member: At fifteen paces.

  Maston: At ten paces.

  First Member: At five paces.

  Maston: At no paces at all.

  First Member: Let's go outside.

  Maston: No, let's fight here.

  First Group: Yes! Yes! Yes!

  Second Group: No! No! No!

  (Maston and the club member rush at one another with a shout)

  Barbicane: Separate them!

  First Group: Come on, hurrah for Maston!

  Second Group: Come on, down with Maston!

  (The members of the club rush to back their supporters. President Barbicane fires his revolver several times, to no effect. The uproar is at its peak)

  The Usher: Silence, gentlemen!

  (Enter an usher of the Gun Club in the midst of the confusion. He hands a letter to the president.)

  Barbicane: The reason I have made this proposal to you is that I have just received this letter from the famous Dr. Ox.

  All: The famous Dr. Ox!

  Maston: What a doctor, gentlemen, what a doctor!

  A Member: And what does the letter say?

  All: Let's hear it, let's hear it.

  Barbicane (reading): "Distinguished president: Dr. Ox and his young colleague, George Hatteras, have just arrived in this city, and request an opportunity to make a proposal to the members of the Gun Club that will be of keen interest6 to them."

  Maston: A proposal?

  Barbicane: I think we should hear it. Is Dr. Ox here?

  The Usher: He is ready to appear before the members of the Gun Club.

  Barbicane (then everyone): Show him in.

  (Enter Ox and George.)

  Barbicane: Welcome, distinguished Dr. Ox.

  Maston: Three cheers for Dr. Ox.

  All: Three cheers for Dr. Ox!

  Ox: First of all, gentlemen, allow me to introduce my young colleague, George Hatteras, son of the glorious captain of that name.

  Maston: Three cheers for the son of Captain Hatteras!

  All: Hip, hip, hurrah!

  George: Before you honor me with your acclamations, gentlemen, let me tell you what I have done and what else I want to accomplish.

  All: Tell us!

  Ox: You will learn soon enough what he has done. As for what he wants to undertake, he has come to ask for your help with that task.

  George: Yes, my ambition is to leave this earth, which I have explored to its deepest recesses. What I want now is to set foot in the infinite, outside our glo
be altogether.

  Barbicane: You can count on our support.

  Ox: Here is the proposal we have come to make to you.

  Maston (shouting): Silence, gentlemen, silence.

  Barbicane: But Mr. Maston, no one is speaking except you.

  Maston: Really? In that case, I'm speaking to myself.

  Ox: Gentlemen, after your first experiment, which raised the glory of America to the skies, you decided not to destroy the giant Columbiad, whose projectile rose more than a hundred thousand leagues into the air. We ask you to repeat the experiment, but to correct the aim this time, so as not to miss the target.

  (Whispers)

  George: Well, gentlemen, do you agree? Will you allow me, on your behalf, to conquer this satellite of the earth, which even the most daring among us has only gone round in orbit? Will you let me finally complete the third stage of my journey through the impossible?

  All: Yes! Yes!

  Ox: By accepting our proposal, gentlemen, you will have proved once more that nothing in this world is impossible.

  Maston: Impossible is not an American word.

  George: Nor English either.

  (Enter Volsius, disguised as Ardan)

  Volsius: Nor French either, gentlemen.

  Maston: Ardan! Our friend Ardan!

  All: Hurrah for Ardan!

  Barbicane: My worthy friend!

  (He has left his presidential desk, and now comes to shake hands with Ardan, who is surrounded by the members of the club)

  Volsius: Yes, my friends, it is I, Michel Ardan. I have arrived just now on the Labrador. I heard that the Gun Club was holding a meeting, and I have made this my first visit.

  Maston: What a man! Even if he is a Frenchman.

  Barbicane: The French are a great people, gentlemen. There's only one thing they need to make them the greatest people in the world.

  Maston: Yes, only one.

  Volsius: And that is ... ?

  Maston: They need to be Americans.

  Volsius: Thank you!

  Barbicane: My dear friend, you come at an opportune time. Our first experiment has had its imitators.

  Volsius: Imitators! Do you mean to say that there are madmen under the dome of Heaven who are even madder than we are?

  Maston: Madmen?

  Ox: That doesn't sound to me like the language of the daring Ardan. Volsius: What did you say, sir?

  Barbicane: This is Dr. Ox, and this is his young colleague, George Hatteras.

  George: Who is determined, sir, to take possession of a world that has eluded you.

  Volsius: What do you mean, young man? Don't stand on ceremony. The Moon belongs to the first person who occupies it. What then? What will you do with the Moon?

  George: We will....

  Maston: Present it to the United States. It will be one more state for the Union.

  All: Yes! Yes!

  Volsius: The Moon? Why, it's a worn-out star, finished, out of date, even a little ridiculous. She's had her day, that old Astarte,7 the mummified sister of the radiant Apollo.' People will laugh at your journey, and when you come back they'll shout, "So you saw the Moon, my lad, did you?"

  Ox: Is this really the famous Ardan speaking like this?

  Volsius: And the day will come when everyone will go to the Moon, and even farther. Aerial trains will ply the airways. Instead of railway cars running on rails, projectiles will be attached together and launched into space. Trains bound for all the planets. An express for Mercury, Uranus, and Neptune. But the Moon! Bah! The Moon! It will soon be nothing but a suburb of the earth, where people will go to spend Sunday, as Parisians go to Chatou or Vesinet.9

  Maston: Well said, Ardan my friend.

  Volsius: Take my advice, George Hatteras. Give up this plan and go quietly back home.

  George: You mean give up the idea of leaving the earth?

  Volsius: Oh, you'll leave it soon enough, my dear fellow.

  Ox: Ah! You think, Mr. Ardan, that the Moon is not worth exploring?

  Volsius: That is my opinion, Dr. Ox.

  Ox: Well then, you have made a convert.

  George: Can that be possible?

  Ox: Yes! Yes! We must forget about that humble planet, that cold satellite of the earth. We must start out toward a nobler and more distant goal.

  Volsius and All: What is he saying?

  George: Towards the Sun, then.

  Ox: Farther yet.

  George: Jupiter? Uranus?

  Ox: Still farther! Farther, outside our solar system.

  George (in great excitement): Ah! I understand, doctor. Yes! Yes! To lose oneself in the infinite, to travel among the stars, through those groups illuminated by three or four suns orbiting under the influence of their mutual attraction. Ah! What a splendid sight! Stars shining in a thousand different shades. Days made of every color, of every hue of the rainbow, rising radiant on the horizon.

  (Murmurs of admiration)

  Ox: That is our destination, gentlemen, and your Columbiad, which was used to fire a projectile to the Moon, will certainly be able to send that projectile over billions of leagues.

  Barbicane: Yes! If you know the secret of making gunpowder that can generate a high enough velocity.

  Ox: I have found a limitless expansive force, and soon, propelled by its all-powerful impetus, our projectile will have left the solar system behind.

  Maston: Bravo, Dr. Ox! What a doctor, gentlemen, what a doctor!

  Barbicane: And at what point in outer space will you aim the Columbiad?

  Ox: At a new heavenly body, recently discovered by astronomers at the Cambridge Observatory,10 the planet Altor.

  All: Altor!

  George: Yes! Altor! Altor!

  Barbicane: All honor to the daring men who will undertake this conquest!

  All: Hurrah! Hurrah!

  Ox (sarcastically): Well, what do you say to that, Mr. Ardan?

  Volsius: What do I say? I say nothing, Dr. Ox.

  Ox: Not a word of blame or criticism of this daring undertaking by Hatteras?

  Volsius: Why should I blame him, when it is my intention to go with him?

  All: Ah!

  Ox: What? You have the nerve ... ?

  Volsius: To be your companion, with your permission, Hatteras.

  George: Oh, of course. You will go with us. You will share our glory.

  Ox (aside): We'll see about that.

  Volsius: We'll meet in Florida, gentlemen, right beside the Columbiad.

  Barbicane: We'll all be there.

  All: Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!

  An open plain in Florida, in the southern United States. A gigantic cannon, of which only the lower part" is visible, is set up on its carriage at a slight angle from the vertical. In the background, an entire city with spires, houses, and trees. It is broad daylight.

  (Enter Tartelet, Valdemar, and Maston)

  Maston: This is the place, gentlemen, to which I was to bring you.

  Tartelet: Excuse me. To whom have we the honor of speaking?

  Maston: Maston, a pure-blooded American.

  Valdemar: Ah! Ah! Do you hear that, Tartelet? This gentleman is a purebred.

  Maston: American. From generations back.

  Valdemar: This gentleman comes from generations back.

  Maston: American! Old stock.

  Valdemar: This gentleman is an old stock.

  Tartelet: Obviously.

  Maston: Member of the Artillerymen's Club. I have invented a wonderful cannon.

  Tartelet: Really?

  Maston: A cannon with a range of 1250 feet ... beyond the target.

  Valdemar (offering his hand): What precision!

  Tartelet: That's wonderful!

  Maston: I have devised another whose projectile can knock down eight hundred men and two hundred horses at a single blow.

  Tartelet: That's four men per horse.

  Valdemar: Just like the Aymon brothers12 in the time of Charlemagne.

  Tartelet: But is it reall
y infallible, sir?

  Maston: I've been wanting to try it out. The horses said nothing, but the men stupidly refused to participate.

  Tartelet: Well, I can understand that.

  Valdemar: If you had used the other cannon, now, the one that carries 1,250 feet beyond the target, the horses would still have said nothing, but the men might have agreed more readily.

  Tartelet: But why have you brought us here, sir?

  Maston: Your colleague, Mr. George Hatteras, requests that you wait for him here, if you have definitely made up your minds to go with him on his next journey.

  Tartelet: Our minds are made up, sir.

  Valdemar: Of course, but where are we going?

  Maston: To the land of the Altorians.

  Valdemar: Altorians? Never heard of them.

  Tartelet: What part of the world do they live in?

  Maston: None.

  Valdemar: What do you mean, none?

  Maston: Exactly what I said. Altor is a recently discovered planet, and that's where you're going.

  Valdemar: Just a minute! That's where we're going? And how, may I ask, are we going to get there?

  Tartelet: Yes, how are we going to travel?

  Maston (turning and pointing to the huge cannon): There is your means of transportation.

  Valdemar (terrified): That? Come now, that's a....

  Tartelet: It's a cannon.

  Valdemar: An immense cannon.

  Maston: It's a Columbiad.

  Valdemar and Tartelet: A Columbiad?

  Maston: Equipped with a space capsule,13 which, when propelled by several thousand kilos of picric acid,14 will take you straight to the planet Altor.

  Valdemar: And you think I'm going to get in there, with my seventeen-million-franc diamond? Oh no!

  Maston: As you wish.

  Valdemar: What about you, Tartelet? Are you going to be shot out of the cannon?

  Tartelet (calmly): Me? That depends.

  Valdemar: Depends on what?

  Tartelet (to Maston): Will Miss Eva be going, too?

  Maston: Definitely. She said nothing would keep her from her fiance.

  Tartelet: Well, nothing will keep me from her.

  Valdemar: But that's madness, Tartelet!

  Tartelet: You may be right, Valdemar, but when I came to the home of that young lady's grandmother, poor and hungry and friendless, those two wonderful women took me in, not as a beggar, but as a friend. That's why I followed Miss Eva when she left. And today, when a new and even greater danger stands in her way, should I abandon her, go quietly back to her grandmother, and say, "I deserted your granddaughter, madam. A man can't do as much out of gratitude as this child can do out of love"? No indeed! I would never dare to be so cowardly.

 

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