Chapter 9

The Consequences of a Deviation

8 min

Barbicane had now no fear of the issue of the journey, at least as far as the projectile’s impulsive force was concerned; its own speed would carry it beyond the neutral line; it would certainly not return to earth; it would certainly not remain motionless on the line of attraction. One single hypothesis remained to be realized, the arrival of the projectile at its destination by the action of the lunar attraction.

Barbicane no longer feared for the outcome of the journey, at least as far as the projectile’s initial force was concerned. Its speed would carry it beyond the neutral line. It would certainly not return to Earth or remain motionless on the line of attraction. Only one possibility remained: the Moon’s gravity would draw the projectile to its destination.

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 terrestrial weight; a formidable fall, nevertheless, and one against which every precaution must be taken without delay.

In fact, it was a fall of 8,296 leagues onto a world where weight was only one sixth of its weight on Earth. Even so, the fall was terrifying, and every precaution had to be taken without delay.

These precautions were of two sorts, some to deaden the shock when the projectile should touch the lunar soil, others to delay the fall, and consequently make it less violent.

There were two kinds of precautions. Some would cushion the impact when the projectile hit the lunar surface. Others would slow its fall and make the impact less violent.

To deaden the shock, it was a pity that Barbicane was no longer able to employ the means which had so ably weakened the shock at departure, that is to say, by water used as springs and the partition breaks.

Unfortunately, Barbicane could no longer use the methods that had greatly softened the shock at departure. He had used water as springs and partition breaks to absorb the impact.

The partitions still existed, but water failed, for they could not use their reserve, which was precious, in case during the first days the liquid element should be found wanting on lunar soil.

The partitions were still there, but water ran out. They could not use their precious reserve in case they found no water on the Moon during their first few days.

And indeed this reserve would have been quite insufficient for a spring. The layer of water stored in the projectile at the time of starting upon their journey 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 therefore give up this efficient means of deadening the shock of arrival. Happily, Barbicane, not content with employing water, had furnished the movable disc with strong spring plugs, destined to lessen the shock against the base after the breaking of the horizontal partitions. These plugs still existed; they had only to readjust them and replace the movable disc; every piece, easy to handle, as their weight was now scarcely felt, was quickly mounted.

Indeed, this reserve would have been far too small to act as a spring. At the start of their journey, the water stored in the projectile formed a layer three feet deep. It covered an area of at least fifty-four square feet. The cistern held less than a fifth of that amount. So they had to give up this effective way of cushioning the shock of arrival. Fortunately, Barbicane had not relied on water alone. He had fitted the movable disc with strong spring plugs to reduce the shock against the base. They were meant to work after the horizontal partitions broke. The plugs were still there. They only had to readjust them and put the movable disc back in place. The pieces were easy to handle, since their weight was now barely felt, and everything was quickly assembled.

The different pieces were fitted without trouble, it being only a matter of bolts and screws; tools were not wanting, and soon the 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 for the travelers to observe the moon from that opening while they were being precipitated perpendicularly upon her; but they were obliged to give it up; even by the side openings they could still see vast lunar regions, as an aeronaut sees the earth from his car.

The pieces fit together easily, since they only needed bolts and screws. There were plenty of tools, and soon the restored disc rested on steel plugs, like a table on its legs. Replacing the disc had one drawback: it blocked the lower window. The travelers could no longer observe the moon through it as they plunged straight down toward her. But they had to give up that view. They could still see vast lunar regions through the side windows, as a balloonist sees the earth from the basket.

This replacing of the disc was at least an hour’s work. It was past twelve when all preparations were finished. Barbicane took fresh observations on the inclination of the projectile, but to his annoyance it had not turned over sufficiently for its fall; it seemed to take a curve parallel to the lunar disc. The orb of night shone splendidly into space, while opposite, the orb of day blazed with fire.

Replacing the disc took at least an hour. It was past twelve when all the preparations were finished. Barbicane took fresh measurements of the projectile’s angle. But to his annoyance, it had not tilted enough to fall. Instead, it seemed to be following a curve parallel to the Moon’s disc. The Moon shone brilliantly into space, while opposite it, the Sun blazed with fire.

Their situation began to make them uneasy.

Their situation began to worry them.

“Are we reaching our destination?” said Nicholl.

“Let us act as if we were about reaching it,” replied Barbicane.

“Let’s act as if we’re about to reach it,” replied Barbicane.

“You are sceptical,” retorted Michel Ardan. “We shall arrive, and that, too, quicker than we like.”

“You’re skeptical,” replied Michel Ardan. “We’ll arrive, and sooner than we’d like.”

This answer brought Barbicane back to his preparations, and he occupied himself 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’s adversary. To Captain Nicholl’s maintaining that the projectile would smash like glass, Michel replied that he would break their fall by means of rockets properly placed.

This answer brought Barbicane back to his preparations. He began positioning the devices meant to soften their descent. We may remember the meeting at Tampa Town, Florida, where Captain Nicholl appeared as Barbicane’s enemy and Michel Ardan’s adversary. Captain Nicholl insisted that the projectile would smash like glass. Michel replied that he would break their fall with properly placed rockets.

Thus, powerful fireworks, taking their starting-point from the base and bursting outside, could, by producing a recoil, check to a certain degree the projectile’s speed. These rockets were to burn in space, it is true; but oxygen would not fail them, for they could supply themselves with it, like the lunar volcanoes, the burning of which has never yet been stopped by the want of atmosphere round the moon.

Powerful fireworks could be launched from the base and burst outside, slowing the projectile somewhat through recoil. The rockets would have to burn in space, it is true. But they would not lack oxygen, since they could supply their own. Lunar volcanoes do the same, and the lack of an atmosphere around the moon has never stopped them from burning.

Barbicane had accordingly supplied himself with these fireworks, enclosed in little steel guns, which could be screwed on to the base of the projectile. Inside, these guns were flush with the bottom; outside, they protruded about eighteen inches. There were twenty of them. An opening left in the disc allowed them to light the match with which each was provided. All the effect was felt outside. The burning mixture had already been rammed into each gun. They had, then, nothing to do but raise the metallic buffers fixed in the base, and replace them by the guns, which fitted closely in their places.

Barbicane had therefore equipped himself with these fireworks, enclosed in small steel guns that could be screwed onto the base of the projectile. Inside, the guns were level with the bottom. Outside, they stuck out about eighteen inches. There were twenty guns. An opening in the disc allowed them to light the fuse on each gun. The entire effect was felt outside. The burning mixture had already been packed into each gun. So they only had to remove the metal buffers fixed in the base and replace them with the guns, which fit snugly in their places.

This new work was finished about three o’clock, and after taking all these precautions there remained but to wait. But the projectile was perceptibly nearing the moon, and evidently succumbed to her influence to a certain degree; though its own velocity also drew it in an oblique direction. From these conflicting influences resulted a line which might become a tangent. But it was certain that the projectile would not fall directly on the moon; for its lower part, by reason of its weight, ought to be turned toward her.

The new work was finished around three o’clock. After taking all these precautions, they could only wait. But the projectile was visibly approaching the moon and was clearly coming under her influence to some degree. Its own speed, however, also carried it in an oblique direction. These conflicting forces produced a path that might become a tangent. But it was certain that the projectile would not fall directly on the moon. If it were going to fall, its lower part should have turned toward her because of its weight.

Barbicane’s uneasiness increased as he saw his projectile resist the influence of gravitation. The Unknown was opening before him, the Unknown in interplanetary space. The man of science thought he had foreseen the only three hypotheses possible—the return to the earth, the return to the moon, or stagnation on the neutral line; and here a fourth hypothesis, big with all the terrors of the Infinite, surged up inopportunely. To face it without flinching, one must be a resolute savant like Barbicane, a phlegmatic being like Nicholl, or an audacious adventurer like Michel Ardan.

Barbicane grew more uneasy as he saw his projectile resist the pull of gravity. The Unknown lay before him, the Unknown of interplanetary space. The scientist had thought he had foreseen the only three possibilities: a return to Earth, a return to the Moon, or remaining motionless on the neutral line. But now a fourth possibility had appeared at the worst possible moment, filled with all the terrors of the Infinite. To face it without flinching, one had to be a determined scientist like Barbicane, a calm person like Nicholl, or a daring adventurer like Michel Ardan.

Conversation was started upon this subject. Other men would have considered the question from a practical point of view; they would have asked themselves whither their projectile carriage was carrying them. Not so with these; they sought for the cause which produced this effect.

They began discussing the subject. Other men would have considered the question from a practical point of view. They would have asked where their projectile was taking them. But these men looked for the cause of the effect.

“So we have become diverted from our route,” said Michel; “but why?”

“So we’ve been diverted from our route,” said Michel. “But why?”

“I very much fear,” answered Nicholl, “that, in spite of all precautions taken, the Columbiad was not fairly pointed. An error, however small, would be enough to throw us out of the moon’s attraction.”

“I’m very worried,” replied Nicholl, “that despite all the precautions taken, the Columbiad was not aimed correctly. Even a small error would be enough to send us beyond the moon’s gravitational pull.”

“Then they must have aimed badly?” asked Michel.

“Then they must have had bad aim?” asked Michel.

“I do not think so,” replied Barbicane. “The perpendicularity of the gun was exact, its direction to the zenith of the spot incontestible; 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.”

“I don’t think so,” replied Barbicane. “The gun was perfectly vertical, pointing straight up from that spot. Since the moon passes directly overhead there, we should reach it when it is full. There is another reason, but I can’t remember it.”

“Are we not arriving too late?” asked Nicholl.

“Aren't we arriving too late?” asked Nicholl.

“Too late?” said Barbicane.

“Yes,” continued Nicholl. “The Cambridge Observatory’s note says that the transit ought to be accomplished in ninety-seven hours 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.”

“Yes,” Nicholl continued. “The Cambridge Observatory’s note says the transit should take ninety-seven hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seconds. That means the moon will not reach the indicated point any sooner, 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 exact moment when the moon would be full; and we are now at the 5th 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?”

“True,” replied Barbicane. “But we left on December 1 at 10:46 and 35 seconds at night. We were supposed to arrive on December 5 at midnight, at the exact moment the moon was full. And today is December 5. It is now 3:30 in the evening. We should reach the end of our journey at 8:30. Why aren’t we arriving?”

“Might it not be an excess of speed?” answered Nicholl; “for we know now that its initial velocity was greater than they supposed.”

“Could it be going too fast?” Nicholl replied. “We now know its initial speed was greater than they thought.”

“No! a hundred times, no!” replied Barbicane. “An excess of speed, if the direction of the projectile had been right, would not have prevented us reaching the moon. No, there has been a deviation. We have been turned out of our course.”

“No! A hundred times, no!” Barbicane replied. “If the projectile had been heading in the right direction, too much speed would not have stopped us from reaching the moon. No, we have changed direction. We have been thrown off course.”

“By whom? by what?” asked Nicholl.

“By whom? By what?” asked Nicholl.

“I cannot say,” replied Barbicane.

“I can't say,” Barbicane replied.

“Very well, then, Barbicane,” said Michel, “do you wish to know my opinion on the subject of finding out this deviation?”

“All right, Barbicane,” said Michel, “do you want to know what I think about finding out this deviation?”

“Speak.”

“I would not give half a dollar to know it. That we have deviated is a fact. Where we are going matters little; we shall soon see. Since we are being borne along in space we shall end by falling into some center of attraction or other.”

“I wouldn’t pay half a dollar to know. The fact is, we’ve gone off course. It hardly matters where we’re going. We’ll soon see. Since we’re being carried through space, we’ll eventually fall toward some center of attraction or other.”

Michel Ardan’s indifference did not content Barbicane. Not that he was uneasy about the future, but he wanted to know at any cost why his projectile had deviated.

Michel Ardan’s indifference did not satisfy Barbicane. He was not worried about the future. But he wanted to know at any cost why his projectile had gone off course.

But the projectile continued its course sideways to the moon, and with it the mass of things thrown out. Barbicane could even prove, by the elevations which served as landmarks upon the moon, which was only two thousand leagues distant, that its speed 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 to the moon, and they might hope that at a nearer point the weight, predominating, would cause a decided fall.

But the projectile continued past the moon, carrying the mass of things thrown out along with it. The moon was only two thousand leagues away. Using its raised features as landmarks, Barbicane could even prove that the projectile’s speed was becoming steady. This was further proof that it was not falling. Its forward momentum still overcame the moon’s pull. But its course was certainly bringing it closer to the moon. They could hope that, closer to the moon, its weight would overcome its momentum and make it fall decisively.

The three friends, having nothing better to do, continued their observations; but they could not yet determine the topographical position of the satellite; every relief was leveled under the reflection of the solar rays.

With nothing better to do, the three friends continued their observations. But they still could not make out the satellite’s surface features. The reflected sunlight made every rise and hollow look flat.

They watched thus through the side windows until eight o’clock at night. The moon had grown so large in their eyes that it filled half of the firmament. The sun on one side, and the orb of night on the other, flooded the projectile with light.

They watched through the side windows until eight o’clock that night. The moon looked so large that it filled half the sky. The sun on one side and the moon on the other flooded the projectile with light.

At that moment Barbicane thought he could estimate the distance which separated them from their aim at no more than 700 leagues. The speed of the projectile seemed to him to be more than 200 yards, or about 170 leagues a second. Under the centripetal force, the base of the projectile tended toward the moon; but the centrifugal still prevailed; and it was probable that its rectilineal course would be changed to a curve of some sort, the nature of which they could not at present determine.

At that moment, Barbicane estimated that they were no more than 700 leagues from their goal. He thought the projectile was traveling at more than 200 yards, or about 170 leagues, a second. Centripetal force pulled the base of the projectile toward the moon. But centrifugal force was still stronger. The projectile’s straight course would probably become a curve of some kind, though they could not yet determine its shape.

Barbicane was still seeking the solution of his insoluble problem. Hours passed without any result. The projectile was evidently nearing the moon, but it was also evident that it would never reach 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.

Barbicane was still trying to solve his unsolvable problem. Hours passed without any result. The projectile was clearly getting closer to the moon, but it was also clear that it would never reach her. How close it would come depended on two forces affecting its motion: attraction and repulsion.

“I ask but one thing,” said Michel; “that we may pass near enough to penetrate her secrets.”

“I ask only one thing,” said Michel. “Let us pass close enough to discover her secrets.”

“Cursed be the thing that has caused our projectile to deviate from its course,” cried Nicholl.

“Curse the thing that knocked our projectile off course!” cried Nicholl.

And, as if a light had suddenly broken in upon his mind, Barbicane answered, “Then cursed be the meteor which crossed our path.”

And, as if a light had suddenly come on in his mind, Barbicane answered, “Then curse the meteor that 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 deviation is owing solely to our meeting with this erring body.”

“I mean,” Barbicane said firmly, “that we went off course solely because we encountered this wandering body.”

“But it did not even brush us as it passed,” said Michel.

“But it didn’t even brush against 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.”

“What does that matter? Its mass was enormous compared to our projectile’s, and its gravitational pull was strong enough to affect our course.”

“So little?” cried Nicholl.

“So little?” exclaimed Nicholl.

“Yes, Nicholl; but however little it might be,” replied Barbicane, “in a distance of 84,000 leagues, it wanted no more to make us miss the moon.”

“Yes, Nicholl,” replied Barbicane, “but however small it was, over a distance of 84,000 leagues, it was enough to make us miss the moon.”