The following process had taken place in the fountain pen: the living electrons in the substance of the fountain pen received fortified nourishment from the surrounding electron corpses and rapidly multiplied, thus increasing in volume as well. This brought about the growth of the entire substance of the fountain pen. As the living electrons continued to consume the ether, their growth and multiplication ceased.
On the basis of his studies, Kirpichnikov has established that only living electrons are generated within the sun’s enormous mass; but their concentration in gigantic numbers in a relatively packed space leads to such a horrendous struggle among them for sources of nourishment that nearly all the electrons are totally destroyed. The struggle for food is responsible for the great pulsation of the sun. The physical energy of the sun has, so to speak, a social cause—the mutual competition of the electrons. The electrons in the solar mass live only several millionths of a second, as they are destroyed by more powerful opponents which, in their turn, die under the onslaught of still more powerful competitors, etc. Having scarcely managed to gobble up its enemy’s corpse, the electron is now destroyed—and the next victor eats it along with the undigested clumps of the body of the previously killed electron.
The movements of the electrons in the sun are so precipitous that a vast number are forced out beyond the limits of the sun and fly into space at a speed of three hundred thousand kilometers per second, creating the effect of a beam of light. But there is such an awesome and devastating struggle taking place on the sun that all the electrons leaving the sun are dead, and are flying either according to the inertia of their motion when they were alive or to their opponent’s impact.
However, Kirpichnikov is convinced that there are extremely rare exceptions—once per time zone—when an electron may be torn away from the sun alive. Then, having ether—an abundant nutritive medium—around it, it becomes the father of a new planet. Eng. Kirpichnikov proposes later on to produce large quantities of ether, primarily from the upper layers of the atmosphere bounded by the ether. The electrons are less active there, and their destruction requires less energy.
Kirpichnikov is completing his new method of artificial production of ether; the new means involves an electromagnetic channel in which a high frequency acts to kill off electrons. The electromagnetic high-frequency channel is directed from the ground to the sun, and a stream of dead electrons is formed in the channel, as in a pipe, driven by the pressure of sunlight toward the terrestrial surface.
The ether is collected at the Earth’s surface, accumulated in special vessels, and then used for the nourishment of those substances whose volume one wishes to increase.
Eng. Kirpichnikov has also performed the reverse experiments. By exposing an object to the action of a high-frequency field, he has achieved, as it were, the extinction of the object and its complete disappearance. Kirpichnikov has destroyed the innermost essence of a substance, since only a living electron is a particle of matter; a dead electron, on the other hand, belongs to the ether. Kirpichnikov has changed several objects completely into ether by this means, including the Waterman pen which he had initially “fattened.”
The aggregate of all of Kirpichnikov’s studies reveals the titanic force of creation and destruction mankind has received from his invention.
In Kirpichnikov’s opinion, by constantly supplying the terrestrial globe with ether flowing from the sun, the Earth itself will steadily increase in size and in the specific gravity of its matter. This guarantees mankind’s progress and undergirds historical optimism with a physical basis.
Kirpichnikov says that he has fully copied the action of the sun in relation to the Earth in his invention, and has merely accelerated its work.
These astonishing discoveries automatically recall to memory the name of F. K. Popov, who bequeathed us his astounding work, and finally, the father of the inventor, the engineer Mikhail Kirpichnikov who died tragically and peculiarly. < … >
* * *
The days were not so long nor the nights so short for the dawn to break at one in the morning on the twentieth of March. That had never happened; even old men cannot remember such a thing.
But one day it did happen. Muscovites had gone home—some from the theater, some from the night shift at the factory, some simply from a long talk with a friend.
There was a concert that night at the Great Hall of the Philharmonic, performed by the famous Vienna-born pianist, Schachtmeier. His profound undersea music, filled with a strange feeling that could not be called either anguish or ecstasy, had shaken his audience. People silently went their ways from the Philharmonic, awed and rejoicing in new and unknown depths and heights of life, which Schachtmeier had expressed in the elemental language of music.
At twelve-thirty in the morning, Maks Valir, who had returned from halfway to the moon, had finished his report at the Polytechnic Museum. An error had been found in the rocket he had designed; moreover, the medium between the Earth and moon turned out to be completely different from what had been hypothesized from the Earth; so Valir had come back. The audience had been extremely excited by Valir’s report; charged up by the strength of will and enthusiasm of the great attempt, it flowed with a fearful noise like lava out across Moscow. In this respect, the audiences of Valir and Schachtmeier were in sharp contrast to one another.
At that moment a dark-blue point began to shine high above Sverdlov Square. In a second it had increased in size ten-fold, and then began to emit a dark-blue spiral, silently rotating, and seemingly unwinding the coil of a blue viscous flux. One beam was slowly drawn to Earth, and its shuddering movement was visible, as if it had encountered stubbornly resisting forces and, in penetrating them, braked its progress. Finally, the column of dark-blue, lusterless, dead fire came to rest between Earth and infinity, and the blue dawn enveloped the entire sky. Instantly everyone was terrified, because all shadows had disappeared: all objects on the surface of the Earth were plunged into some mute but ever more penetrating dampness—and nothing had a shadow.
Moscow fell silent for the first time since it had been built: whoever was speaking broke off in mid-utterance; whoever had been silent made no exclamation. All movement ceased; anyone who was driving forgot to go on; anyone standing still could not recall the purpose that had been drawing him on.
Silence and the strange dark-blue glow stood alone above the Earth, embracing one another.
It was so silent that it seemed that the strange dawn sounded—in a monotone, and tenderly, as the crickets sang in our childhood.
Every voice was ringing and youthful in the spring air—a feminine voice cried out piercingly and astonishing under the columns of the Bolshoi Theater: someone’s soul could not bear the strain and made an abrupt movement to conceal itself from this enchantment.
And at once all nocturnal Moscow went into motion: drivers pushed their starter buttons; pedestrians took their first step; those who had been speaking started to yell; sleepers awoke and rushed into the street; all eyes turned upward toward the sky; each brain began to throb from the excitement.
But the dark-blue dawn began to fade. Darkness inundated the horizons; the spiral curled up, stealing away into the depths of the Milky Way; it then became a brilliant rotating star, but that too melted away in the eyes of the living—and it all disappeared, like a forgotten dream. But every eye that had looked up into the sky long continued seeing the spinning dark-blue star up there.
For some reason everyone was exhauter by this event, although hardly anyone knew why.
* * *
Next morning the Izvestia published the following interview with engineer Kirpichnikov:
EXPLANATION OF THE NIGHT-TIME DAWN ABOVE THE WORLD.
Our correspondent got into the Prof. Marand Microbiological Laboratory after a great deal of effort. This took place at 4 AM, right after the optical phenomenon in the ether. In the laboratory the correspondent found G. M. Kirpichnikov—the well-known designer of the equipment for the multiplicatio
n of material, discoverer of the so-called “ether channel”—asleep. The correspondent did not have the temerity to awaken the tired inventor; however, the arrangement of the laboratory made it possible to see all the results of the nocturnal experiment.
Besides the equipment for the production of the ether channel and the accumulation of dead electrons, an old yellow manuscript lay on the table. The following was written on the open page: “The technicians’ job is to rear iron, gold, or coal as livestock breeders rear pigs.” The correspondent has not yet established to whom these words belong.
A glittering body occupied half of the experimental chamber. It appeared on inspection to be iron. The form of the ferrous body was a nearly regular cube measuring 10 x 10 x 10 meters. How such a body could have gotten into the chamber was unclear, since its windows and doors could have admitted one only half the size. One hypothesis is left—that the iron was not brought into the chamber from anywhere, but had been grown in the chamber itself. This was confirmed by the log of experiments which lay on the same table as the manuscript. The dimensions of the experimental body were written there in the hand of G. M. Kirpichnikov: “Soft iron measuring 10 x 10 x 10 centimeters, 1 h 25 min., optimal voltage.” There are no further notes in the log. Thus the iron had increased in volume 100-fold in 2-3 hours. That is the power of feeding ether to electrons.
There was an even and steady noise in the chamber, which our correspondent at first ignored. After turning on the lights, our colleague discovered some sort of monster sitting on the floor near the iron mass. Intricate parts of a broken device, apparently burnt out by an electric arc, were lying alongside the unknown being. The animal was emitting a monotonous moan. The correspondent photographed it (cf. below). The animal’s maximum height was one meter. Its greatest width, about half a meter. The color of its body was reddish-yellow. Its overall shape was oval. Visual and auditory organs were not seen. A huge maw with black teeth was wide open; each tooth was 3-4 centimeters in length. There are four short (1/4 meter) powerful paws with bulging muscles; the span of the paw is no less than half a meter; it ends in a single powerful finger in the shape of an elastic, gleaming prong. The animal sits on a stout powerful tail; its tip moves about, glittering with three spikes. The teeth in the open maw are notched and rotate in their sockets. This strange and fearsome being has a very solid build and gives the impression of being a living chunk of metal.
The hum of this repulsive creature was producing the noise in the laboratory: the animal was probably hungry. This, beyond doubt, was an electron artificially fattened and cultivated by Kirpichnikov.
In conclusion, the editorial board congratulates readers and the nation on the new conquest of scientific genius, and is delighted that this victory falls to the credit of a young Soviet engineer.
The artificially cultivated iron and the multiplication of matter in general will give the Soviet Union such economic and military advantages over the other, capitalist, part of the world that if capitalism had a sense of the epoch and historical intelligence, it would surrender to socialism at once, and unconditionally. But, unfortunately, imperialism has never had these valuable qualities. < …>
All Moscow—the new Paris of the Socialist world—was ecstatic over this note. The entire vibrant, passionate, gregarious city appeared on the streets, in the clubs, at lectures—everywhere where there was even a whiff of new information about the works of G. M. Kirpichnikov.
The day dawned sunny; the snow melted a bit; and unbelievable hope was growing in the human breast. As the sun moved toward the midday zenith, the future shone ever clearer in the brain of man, like a rainbow, like the conquest of the universe, and like the dark-blue chasm of the great soul that had embraced the chaos of the world as its bride. < … >
* * *
In August Maria Alexandrovna received a letter from Egor in Tokyo.
Mama. I am happy—and I’ve understood something. The end of my work is approaching. Only by wandering the Earth, under different rays of the sun and over different soils am I able to think. I have now understood Papa. We need outside forces to stimulate our thoughts. These forces are scattered along the world’s roadways, they must be sought, and one must place one’s head and body beneath them, as under a downpour. You know what I am doing and what I seek—the root of the world, the soil of the universe, from which it grew. From ancient philosophical dreams, this has become the scientific challenge of the day. But someone is needed to do this, and I have taken it up. < …> I need the challenge, or else I would become weary and kill myself. Father also had this feeling; maybe it’s an illness, maybe it’s bad heredity from our ancestors—vagabonds and Kievan pilgrims. Don’t hunt for me and don’t feel sad—I’ll do what I’ve planned to do—and then I’ll return. I think about you, but my restless feet and my anxious head drive me forward. Maybe, probably, life is a perverse fact, and each breathing creature is a miracle and an exception. And then I marvel, and it’s good for me to think of my dear mother and my unavenged father. Egor”
News of the death of Egor Kirpichnikov in prison in Buenos Aires was received in Moscow on the thirty-first of December. He was arrested along with bandits who had been robbing express trains. He fell ill with tropical malaria in prison. The whole gang was sentenced to be hanged. Since Kirpichnikov was unable to walk to the gallows, as he was sinking into a delirium before death, they gave him poison, and no longer recalling anything of life, he died.
His body, along with the hanged bandits, was thrown into the muddy Amazon and washed out into the Pacific Ocean. The gallows that stood on the very banks of the Amazon were also thrown into the river after the execution: there they floated, dragging the corpses in their deadly nooses.
In response to inquiries by the Soviet government regarding the punishment of a man who could not have been a criminal, yet who had ended up in a gang by an unknown chance, the Brazilian government replied that it had not known that Kirpichnikov was in its hands; when arrested he refused to give his name, and then he became ill, and did not ever regain consciousness during the investigation.
Maria Alexandrovna erected a new urn in the House of Remembrances at the Silver Forest, next to the urn of her husband. On it was inscribed:
“Egor Kirpichnikov. Died age 29. Inventor of the Ether Channel—disciple of F. K. Popov and his father. Eternal glory, and sorrowful memory, to the Architect of a new Nature.”
(1922-1928)
Translated by Elliott Urday, A. L. and M. K.
Ivan Antonovich Efremov
(1907–1972)
___________________________
The Andromeda Nebula
[ABRIDGED CHAPTERS ONE & TWO]
CHAPTER ONE:
THE IRON STAR
In the faint light emitted by the helical tube on the ceiling the rows of dials on the instrument panels had the appearance of a portrait gallery—the round dials had jovial faces, the recumbent oval physiognomies were impudently self-satisfied and the square mugs were immobile in their stupid complacency. The light—and the dark-blue, orange and green lights flickering inside the instruments—served to intensify the impression.
A big dial, glowing dull red, gazed out from the middle of the convex control desk. The girl in front of it had forgotten her chair and stood with her head bowed, her brow almost touching the glass, in the attitude of one in prayer. The red glow made her youthful face older and sterner, cast clear-cut shadows round her full lips and even made her slightly snub nose look pointed. Her thick eyebrows, knitted in a frown, looked jet black in that light and gave her eyes the despairing expression seen in the eyes of the doomed.
The faint hum of the dials was interrupted by a soft metallic click. The girl started and raised her head, straightening her tired back.
The door opened behind her, a large shadow appeared and turned into a man with abrupt and precise movements. A flood of golden light sprang up, making the girl’s thick, dark-auburn hair sparkle like gold. She turned to the newcomer with a look that tol
d both of her love for him and of her anxiety.
“Why aren’t you sleeping? A hundred sleepless hours!”
“A bad example, eh?” There was a note of gaiety in his voice but he didn’t smile; it was a voice marked by high metallic notes that seemed to rivet his words together.
“The others are all asleep,” the girl began timidly, “and … don’t know anything …” she added whispering instinctively.
“Don’t be afraid to speak. Everybody else is asleep, we’re the only two awake in the Cosmos and it’s fifty billion kilometers to Earth—a mere parsec and a half!”
“And we’ve got fuel for just one acceleration!” There was fascinated horror in the girl’s exclamation.
Erg Noor, Commander of the Cosmic Expedition # 37, reached the glowing dial in two rapid strides.
“The fifth circle!”
“Yes, we’ve entered the fifth … and … still nothing.” The girl cast an eloquent glance at the loudspeaker of the automatic receiver.
“So obviously I have no right to sleep with so many variants and possibilities to study. A solution must be found by the end of the fifth circle.”
“But that’s another hundred and ten hours.”
“All right, I’ll go to sleep in the armchair here as soon as the effect of the sporamin wears off. I took it twenty-four hours ago.”
The girl stood deep in thought for a time but at last, decided to speak.
“Perhaps we should decrease the radius of the circle? Suppose something’s gone wrong with their transmitter?”
“Certainly not! If you reduce the radius without reducing speed you’ll break up the ship. If you reduce speed you’ll be left without anameson … with a parsec and a half to go at the speed of the old lunar shuttles! At that rate we’d get somewhere near our solar system in about a hundred thousand years.”
Worlds Apart Page 86
