by Jules Verne
CHAPTER IX
THE CONSEQUENCES OF A DEVIATION
Barbicane had now no fear of the issue of the journey, at leastas far as the projectile's impulsive force was concerned; itsown speed would carry it beyond the neutral line; it wouldcertainly not return to earth; it would certainly not remainmotionless on the line of attraction. One single hypothesisremained to be realized, the arrival of the projectile at itsdestination by the action of the lunar attraction.
It was in reality a fall of 8,296 leagues on an orb, it is true,where weight could only be reckoned at one sixth of terrestrialweight; a formidable fall, nevertheless, and one against whichevery precaution must be taken without delay.
These precautions were of two sorts, some to deaden the shockwhen the projectile should touch the lunar soil, others to delaythe fall, and consequently make it less violent.
To deaden the shock, it was a pity that Barbicane was no longerable to employ the means which had so ably weakened the shock atdeparture, that is to say, by water used as springs and thepartition breaks.
The partitions still existed, but water failed, for they couldnot use their reserve, which was precious, in case during thefirst days the liquid element should be found wanting on lunar soil.
And indeed this reserve would have been quite insufficient fora spring. The layer of water stored in the projectile atthe time of starting upon their journey occupied no less thanthree feet in depth, and spread over a surface of not less thanfifty-four square feet. Besides, the cistern did not containone-fifth part of it; they must therefore give up this efficientmeans of deadening the shock of arrival. Happily, Barbicane,not content with employing water, had furnished the movable discwith strong spring plugs, destined to lessen the shock againstthe base after the breaking of the horizontal partitions.These plugs still existed; they had only to readjust them andreplace the movable disc; every piece, easy to handle, as theirweight was now scarcely felt, was quickly mounted.
The different pieces were fitted without trouble, it being onlya matter of bolts and screws; tools were not wanting, and soonthe reinstated disc lay on steel plugs, like a table on its legs.One inconvenience resulted from the replacing of the disc,the lower window was blocked up; thus it was impossible forthe travelers to observe the moon from that opening whilethey were being precipitated perpendicularly upon her; but theywere obliged to give it up; even by the side openings they couldstill 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 waspast twelve when all preparations were finished. Barbicane tookfresh observations on the inclination of the projectile, but tohis annoyance it had not turned over sufficiently for its fall;it seemed to take a curve parallel to the lunar disc. The orbof night shone splendidly into space, while opposite, the orb ofday 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 heoccupied himself with placing the contrivances intended to breaktheir descent. We may remember the scene of the meeting held atTampa Town, in Florida, when Captain Nicholl came forward asBarbicane's enemy and Michel Ardan's adversary. To CaptainNicholl's maintaining that the projectile would smash like glass,Michel replied that he would break their fall by means of rocketsproperly placed.
Thus, powerful fireworks, taking their starting-point from thebase and bursting outside, could, by producing a recoil, checkto a certain degree the projectile's speed. These rockets wereto burn in space, it is true; but oxygen would not fail them,for they could supply themselves with it, like the lunarvolcanoes, the burning of which has never yet been stopped bythe want of atmosphere round the moon.
Barbicane had accordingly supplied himself with these fireworks,enclosed in little steel guns, which could be screwed on to thebase of the projectile. Inside, these guns were flush with thebottom; outside, they protruded about eighteen inches. There weretwenty of them. An opening left in the disc allowed them to lightthe match with which each was provided. All the effect wasfelt outside. The burning mixture had already been rammedinto each gun. They had, then, nothing to do but raise themetallic buffers fixed in the base, and replace them by theguns, which fitted closely in their places.
This new work was finished about three o'clock, and after takingall these precautions there remained but to wait. But theprojectile was perceptibly nearing the moon, and evidentlysuccumbed to her influence to a certain degree; though itsown velocity also drew it in an oblique direction. From theseconflicting influences resulted a line which might becomea tangent. But it was certain that the projectile would notfall directly on the moon; for its lower part, by reason ofits weight, ought to be turned toward her.
Barbicane's uneasiness increased as he saw his projectile resistthe influence of gravitation. The Unknown was opening beforehim, the Unknown in interplanetary space. The man of sciencethought he had foreseen the only three hypotheses possible-- thereturn to the earth, the return to the moon, or stagnation onthe neutral line; and here a fourth hypothesis, big with all theterrors of the Infinite, surged up inopportunely. To face itwithout flinching, one must be a resolute savant like Barbicane,a phlegmatic being like Nicholl, or an audacious adventurer likeMichel Ardan.
Conversation was started upon this subject. Other men wouldhave considered the question from a practical point of view;they would have asked themselves whither their projectilecarriage was carrying them. Not so with these; they sought forthe 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 ofall precautions taken, the Columbiad was not fairly pointed.An error, however small, would be enough to throw us out ofthe moon's attraction."
"Then they must have aimed badly?" asked Michel.
"I do not think so," replied Barbicane. "The perpendicularityof the gun was exact, its direction to the zenith of the spotincontestible; and the moon passing to the zenith of the spot,we ought to reach it at the full. 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 notesays that the transit ought to be accomplished in ninety-sevenhours thirteen minutes and twenty seconds; which means to say,that _sooner_ the moon will _not_ be at the point indicated, and_later_ it will have passed it."
"True," replied Barbicane. "But we started the 1st of December,at thirteen minutes and twenty-five seconds to eleven at night;and we ought to arrive on the 5th at midnight, at the exactmoment when the moon would be full; and we are now at the5th of December. It is now half-past three in the evening;half-past eight ought to see us at the end of our journey.Why do we not arrive?"
"Might it not be an excess of speed?" answered Nicholl; "for weknow now that its initial velocity was greater than they supposed."
"No! a hundred times, no!" replied Barbicane. "An excess ofspeed, if the direction of the projectile had been right, wouldnot have prevented us reaching the moon. No, there has beena deviation. We have been turned out of our course."
"By whom? by what?" asked Nicholl.
"I cannot say," replied Barbicane.
"Very well, then, Barbicane," said Michel, "do you wish to knowmy opinion on the subject of finding out this deviation?"
"Speak."
"I would not give half a dollar to know it. That we havedeviated is a fact. Where we are going matters little; we shallsoon see. Since we are being borne along in space we shall endby falling into some center of attraction or other."
Michel Ardan's indifference did not content Barbicane. Not thathe was uneasy about
the future, but he wanted to know at anycost _why_ his projectile had deviated.
But the projectile continued its course sideways to the moon,and with it the mass of things thrown out. Barbicane could evenprove, by the elevations which served as landmarks upon themoon, which was only two thousand leagues distant, that itsspeed was becoming uniform-- fresh proof that there was no fall.Its impulsive force still prevailed over the lunar attraction,but the projectile's course was certainly bringing it nearer tothe 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 topographicalposition of the satellite; every relief was leveled under thereflection of the solar rays.
They watched thus through the side windows until eight o'clockat night. The moon had grown so large in their eyes that itfilled half of the firmament. The sun on one side, and the orbof night on the other, flooded the projectile with light.
At that moment Barbicane thought he could estimate the distancewhich separated them from their aim at no more than 700 leagues.The speed of the projectile seemed to him to be more than 200yards, or about 170 leagues a second. Under the centripetalforce, the base of the projectile tended toward the moon; butthe centrifugal still prevailed; and it was probable that itsrectilineal course would be changed to a curve of some sort,the nature of which they could not at present determine.
Barbicane was still seeking the solution of his insoluble problem.Hours passed without any result. The projectile was evidentlynearing the moon, but it was also evident that it would neverreach her. As to the nearest distance at which it would pass her,that must be the result of two forces, attraction and repulsion,affecting its motion.
"I ask but one thing," said Michel; "that we may pass nearenough to penetrate her secrets."
"Cursed be the thing that has caused our projectile to deviatefrom its course," 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 ourdeviation is 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 ourprojectile, was enormous, and its attraction was enough toinfluence our course."
"So little?" cried Nicholl.
"Yes, Nicholl; but however little it might be," repliedBarbicane, "in a distance of 84,000 leagues, it wanted no moreto make us miss the moon."
