Landing on the Moon

I remember how one day Cavor suddenly opened six of our shutters and blinded me so that I cried aloud at him. The whole area was moon, a stupendous scimitar of white dawn with its edge hacked out by notches of darkness, the crescent shore of an ebbing tide of darkness, out of which peaks and pinnacles came glittering into the blaze of the sun. I take it the reader has seen pictures or photographs of the moon and that I need not describe the broader features of that landscape, those spacious ring-like ranges vaster than any terrestrial mountains, their summits shining in the day, their shadows harsh and deep, the grey disordered plains, the ridges, hills, and craterlets, all passing at last from a blazing illumination into a common mystery of black. Athwart this world we were flying scarcely a hundred miles above its crests and pinnacles. And now we could see, what no eye on earth will ever see, that under the blaze of the day the harsh outlines of the rocks and ravines of the plains and crater floor grew grey and indistinct under a thickening haze, that the white of their lit surfaces broke into lumps and patches, and broke again and shrank and vanished, and that here and there strange tints of brown and olive grew and spread.

I remember how one day Cavor suddenly opened six of our shutters. The light blinded me, and I cried out at him. The moon filled the whole view. It was a vast white scimitar of dawn, its edge cut with dark notches. It was the crescent shore of a retreating tide of darkness. Peaks and pinnacles rose from that darkness, glittering in the blaze of the sun. I assume the reader has seen pictures or photographs of the moon. So I need not describe the broader features of that landscape. There were vast ring-shaped ranges, larger than any mountains on Earth. Their summits shone in the daylight, and their shadows were harsh and deep. There were gray, jumbled plains, ridges, hills, and small craters. All of them passed from blazing light into the same mysterious blackness. We were flying across this world, barely a hundred miles above its peaks and pinnacles. Now we could see something no eye on Earth will ever see. Beneath the blaze of daylight, a thickening haze turned the sharp outlines of rocks and ravines gray and indistinct. This was happening across the plains and crater floor. Their white, sunlit surfaces broke into lumps and patches, then broke up again, shrank, and vanished. Here and there, strange shades of brown and olive appeared and spread.

But little time we had for watching then. For now we had come to the real danger of our journey. We had to drop ever closer to the moon as we spun about it, to slacken our pace and watch our chance, until at last we could dare to drop upon its surface.

But we had little time to watch. We had now reached the real danger of our journey. We had to descend closer to the moon as we circled it, slowing down and waiting for our chance. At last, we could dare to land on its surface.

For Cavor that was a time of intense exertion; for me it was an anxious inactivity. I seemed perpetually to be getting out of his way. He leapt about the sphere from point to point with an agility that would have been impossible on earth. He was perpetually opening and closing the Cavorite windows, making calculations, consulting his chronometer by means of the glow lamp during those last eventful hours. For a long time we had all our windows closed and hung silently in darkness hurling through space.

For Cavor, it was a time of intense effort. For me, it was a time of anxious inactivity. I seemed to be constantly getting out of his way. He leaped from one point to another inside the sphere with an agility that would have been impossible on Earth. During those last eventful hours, he was constantly opening and closing the Cavorite windows, making calculations, and checking his chronometer by the glow lamp. For a long time, all our windows were closed. We hung silently in darkness, hurtling through space.

Then he was feeling for the shutter studs, and suddenly four windows were open. I staggered and covered my eyes, drenched and scorched and blinded by the unaccustomed splendour of the sun beneath my feet. Then again the shutters snapped, leaving my brain spinning in a darkness that pressed against the eyes. And after that I floated in another vast, black silence.

Then he felt for the shutter buttons, and suddenly four windows opened. I staggered and covered my eyes. The unfamiliar sunlight beneath my feet drenched, scorched, and blinded me with its brilliance. Then the shutters snapped shut again. My brain spun in the darkness that pressed against my eyes. After that, I floated in another vast, black silence.

Then Cavor switched on the electric light, and told me he proposed to bind all our luggage together with the blankets about it, against the concussion of our descent. We did this with our windows closed, because in that way our goods arranged themselves naturally at the centre of the sphere. That too was a strange business; we two men floating loose in that spherical space, and packing and pulling ropes. Imagine it if you can! No up nor down, and every effort resulting in unexpected movements. Now I would be pressed against the glass with the full force of Cavor’s thrust, now I would be kicking helplessly in a void. Now the star of the electric light would be overhead, now under foot. Now Cavor’s feet would float up before my eyes, and now we would be crossways to each other. But at last our goods were safely bound together in a big soft bale, all except two blankets with head holes that we were to wrap about ourselves.

Then Cavor switched on the electric light. He said he planned to tie all our luggage together, with blankets around it, to protect it from the impact of landing. We did this with our windows closed, because that made our belongings settle naturally at the center of the sphere. That was a strange task too. The two of us floated freely in that spherical space, packing and pulling ropes. Imagine it if you can! There was no up or down, and every effort sent us moving in unexpected ways. At one moment, Cavor’s push would press me against the glass with its full force. At the next, I would be kicking helplessly in empty space. One moment, the star of electric light would be overhead. The next, it would be underfoot. One moment, Cavor’s feet would float up in front of my eyes. The next, we would be sideways to each other. But at last we had safely tied our belongings into a big, soft bundle. We left out two blankets with holes for our heads, which we were to wrap around ourselves.

Then for a flash Cavor opened a window moonward, and we saw that we were dropping towards a huge central crater with a number of minor craters grouped in a sort of cross about it. And then again Cavor flung our little sphere open to the scorching, blinding sun. I think he was using the sun’s attraction as a brake. “Cover yourself with a blanket,” he cried, thrusting himself from me, and for a moment I did not understand.

Then Cavor briefly opened a window facing the moon. We saw that we were falling toward a huge central crater, with several smaller craters grouped around it in the shape of a cross. Then Cavor opened our little sphere to the scorching, blinding sun again. I think he was using the sun’s pull as a brake. “Cover yourself with a blanket,” he cried, pushing himself away from me. For a moment, I did not understand.

Then I hauled the blanket from beneath my feet and got it about me and over my head and eyes. Abruptly he closed the shutters again, snapped one open again and closed it, then suddenly began snapping them all open, each safely into its steel roller. There came a jar, and then we were rolling over and over, bumping against the glass and against the big bale of our luggage, and clutching at each other, and outside some white substance splashed as if we were rolling down a slope of snow....

Then I pulled the blanket from under my feet and wrapped it around me, covering my head and eyes. Suddenly, he closed the shutters again. He snapped one open and closed it, then suddenly began snapping them all open, each safely into its steel roller. There was a jolt, and then we were rolling over and over. We bumped against the glass and the big bundle of our luggage, clutching at each other. Outside, a white substance splashed as if we were rolling down a snowy slope....

Over, clutch, bump, clutch, bump, over....

Over, grab, bump, grab, bump, over....

Came a thud, and I was half buried under the bale of our possessions, and for a space everything was still. Then I could hear Cavor puffing and grunting, and the snapping of a shutter in its sash. I made an effort, thrust back our blanket-wrapped luggage, and emerged from beneath it. Our open windows were just visible as a deeper black set with stars.

There was a thud, and I was half buried under the bundle of our belongings. For a while, everything was still. Then I heard Cavor puffing and grunting, and a shutter snapping in its frame. I struggled to push back our blanket-wrapped luggage and crawled out from under it. Our open windows were barely visible as patches of deeper black dotted with stars.

We were still alive, and we were lying in the darkness of the shadow of the wall of the great crater into which we had fallen.

We were still alive. We lay in darkness, in the shadow of the wall of the great crater we had fallen into.

We sat getting our breath again, and feeling the bruises on our limbs. I don’t think either of us had had a very clear expectation of such rough handling as we had received. I struggled painfully to my feet. “And now,” said I, “to look at the landscape of the moon! But—! It’s tremendously dark, Cavor!”

We sat catching our breath and feeling the bruises on our arms and legs. I don’t think either of us had clearly expected to be treated so roughly. I struggled painfully to my feet. “And now,” I said, “to look at the landscape of the moon! But... It’s terribly dark, Cavor!”

The glass was dewy, and as I spoke I wiped at it with my blanket. “We’re half an hour or so beyond the day,” he said. “We must wait.”

The glass was covered in moisture, and I wiped it with my blanket as I spoke. “We’re about half an hour past daylight,” he said. “We have to wait.”

It was impossible to distinguish anything. We might have been in a sphere of steel for all that we could see. My rubbing with the blanket simply smeared the glass, and as fast as I wiped it, it became opaque again with freshly condensed moisture mixed with an increasing quantity of blanket hairs. Of course I ought not to have used the blanket. In my efforts to clear the glass I slipped upon the damp surface, and hurt my shin against one of the oxygen cylinders that protruded from our bale.

We could make out nothing. For all we could see, we might have been inside a steel sphere. Rubbing the glass with the blanket only smeared it. As fast as I wiped it, fresh moisture clouded it again, mixed with more and more blanket fibers. Of course, I shouldn't have used the blanket. As I tried to clear the glass, I slipped on the damp surface. I hurt my shin against one of the oxygen cylinders sticking out from our bundle.

The thing was exasperating—it was absurd. Here we were just arrived upon the moon, amidst we knew not what wonders, and all we could see was the grey and streaming wall of the bubble in which we had come.

It was infuriating. It was absurd. We had just arrived on the moon, surrounded by wonders we knew nothing about. Yet all we could see was the gray, streaming wall of the bubble we had traveled in.

“Confound it!” I said, “but at this rate we might have stopped at home;” and I squatted on the bale and shivered, and drew my blanket closer about me.

“Damn it!” I said. “At this rate, we might as well have stayed home.” I squatted on the bale, shivering, and pulled my blanket closer around me.

Abruptly the moisture turned to spangles and fronds of frost. “Can you reach the electric heater,” said Cavor. “Yes—that black knob. Or we shall freeze.”

Suddenly, the moisture turned into sparkling specks and fernlike patterns of frost. “Can you reach the electric heater?” Cavor said. “Yes, that black knob. Or we’ll freeze.”

I did not wait to be told twice. “And now,” said I, “what are we to do?”

I didn't wait to be told twice. “And now,” I said, “what are we going to do?”

“Wait,” he said.

“Wait,” he said.

“Wait?”

“Wait?”

“Of course. We shall have to wait until our air gets warm again, and then this glass will clear. We can’t do anything till then. It’s night here yet; we must wait for the day to overtake us. Meanwhile, don’t you feel hungry?”

“Of course. We’ll have to wait until our air warms up again. Then this glass will clear. We can’t do anything until then. It’s still night here. We have to wait for daylight to catch up with us. Meanwhile, aren’t you hungry?”

For a space I did not answer him, but sat fretting. I turned reluctantly from the smeared puzzle of the glass and stared at his face. “Yes,” I said, “I am hungry. I feel somehow enormously disappointed. I had expected—I don’t know what I had expected, but not this.”

For a while, I did not answer him, but sat worrying. Reluctantly, I turned from the puzzling, smeared glass and stared at his face. “Yes,” I said, “I am hungry. Somehow, I feel terribly disappointed. I had expected something. I don’t know what, but not this.”

I summoned my philosophy, and rearranging my blanket about me sat down on the bale again and began my first meal on the moon. I don’t think I finished it—I forget. Presently, first in patches, then running rapidly together into wider spaces, came the clearing of the glass, came the drawing of the misty veil that hid the moon world from our eyes.

I pulled myself together, adjusted my blanket, and sat down on the bale again. Then I began my first meal on the moon. I don’t think I finished it. I forget. Soon the glass began to clear, first in patches. Then the patches quickly joined to form larger clear spaces. The misty veil hiding the moon world from our eyes was lifting.

We peered out upon the landscape of the moon.

We looked out at the moon's landscape.