“In the long lunar day,” Traveller said, “temperatures from the unshaded sun must reach hundreds of degrees by the Celsius measure, while during the fortnight-long night there is no air to retain the warmth of the land and heat leaks steadily into space, bringing temperatures little above the absolute zero.
“Next, I would remind you that anti-ice contains not one but two novel properties. There is the propensity of some element of it to combine explosively with ordinary matter. But there is also the phenomenon of Enhanced Conductance, as observed by Lord Maxwell and others. But this Enhanced Conductance is temperature-dependent; try to melt a block of anti-ice and the Conductance disappears, as do the magnetic walls containing the anti- substance… and—Boom!” He illustrated the last syllable by knocking his metal nose against the brandy globe, producing a piercing chime; we all jumped—even the uninterested Bourne. “And this, of course,” Traveller went on, “is the principle on which the construction of all our anti-ice machines is based.”
“I think I understand,” Holden said slowly, his eyes narrowed in thought. “You are suggesting that the Phoebeans are creatures whose blood flows along veins of Enhanced Conductance. But this property is only available when the temperature is low; too high and the Conductance property fails.”
“Precisely,” Traveller said. “The Phoebeans must slumber through the lunar day. Then, as the first touch of night stirs their unresistive blood, they become invigorated and pursue their violent affairs. But all too soon the dawn approaches and their veins clog once more; they grow dormant in the sunshine, waiting for the night to restore their vigor a fortnight later.
“And recall that the magnetic fields associated with Enhanced Conductance circuits are quite spectacularly large—much larger than anything produced by human scientists by any other means. It is these fields, I hazard, which supply the basis for the immense strength and speed of growth of the Phoebeans which we observed.”
Holden nodded. “This has the ring of truth, Sir Josiah. Just think of it, Ned! What if you spent every day unconscious, and were only able to function in the gloom of night?”
I thought that over, and replied, “Actually I have some friends who live a bit like that. Perhaps they have Phoebean ancestry.”
Holden said to Traveller, “You mentioned that this speculation tied in to the earlier observation that the Phoebeans appear confined to Traveller Crater.”
“Yes. For, as you will know, the phenomenon of Enhanced Conductance has been observed only in the substance we call anti-ice. Therefore I would suggest that the life-forms we saw were brought to the Moon by the comet, or meteor, of anti-ice which we have speculated fell to the lunar surface and detonated to cause such an immense formation.”
I sipped some more brandy and said, “It is an intriguing theory; but could such large and complex creatures survive such an explosion?”
“A comparatively intelligent question,” Traveller said, utterly without irony. “Probably they could not. But we may speculate that the Phoebeans have emerged from some simpler animalcule, a spore perhaps, which was hardy enough to survive the impact. And we may imagine that with the vigor of their growth and activities it will surely not be many centuries before they spread around to the Earth- facing face of the Moon.”
I frowned at that. “God is to be thanked that there is no possibility of these animals spreading further—to our Earth, for example.” I shivered, imagining those great crystalline limbs erupting from the green hills of England.
“Perhaps,” Traveller said. “But what an opportunity for scientific study such an invasion would afford us!”
“If anyone survived to carry out such a study,” said Holden.
“It is to be regretted,” said Traveller, “that the remaining stocks of anti-ice are so low—and mostly committed to other projects—that after our return to Earth another voyage to the Moon, by some future expedition, is most unlikely; and it may be many centuries before the theories I have expounded can be confirmed. We may never know, for instance, whether the water ice Ned collected was indigenous to the Moon, was brought there by an anti-ice comet, or has been generated since as some waste product of the activities of the Phoebeans.”
Bourne grinned. “How sad for you English that you are cut off from your newest colony. You could have taught these Phoebeans how to salute your flag; or how to institute a Parliament, as you did the hapless Indians.”
I laughed at this, but Holden bristled and said: “Or you Frenchies could instruct them in the techniques of revolution. They are surely mindless and destructive enough for that.”
I said, “Gentlemen, please; this is hardly a moment for such squabbling.” I looked at Traveller expectantly. “Sir Josiah, you mentioned our return to Earth. And so we are saved, are we not?”
Traveller smiled at me, not unkindly, and pointed to the hatch set in the ceiling. “See for yourself.”
I loosened my restraint, handed Pocket the remains of my cigar for neat disposal, and left my brandy globe to hover in the air; and then, still in my towelling robe, I jumped up to the hatch and passed through into the Bridge.
The Bridge was a place of spectral beauty; the various dials and panels shone in the faint yellow glow of their Ruhmkorff lights like the candlelit faces of carol-singers; and the whole was awash in a soft blue light: this was the light of Earth, which hung directly above the glass dome of the roof.
I stared up at that lovely island of water and cloud, and at the fizzing spark of the Little Moon which soared over the oceans; and, though I knew that we had many days of travel through space still to endure, every moment that passed would bring me closer to my home, and to the world of human affairs from which I had been plucked: to the world of war—and of love.
I stared at the planet until it seemed to me that the glimmering ocean was overlaid with the soft eyes of Francoise, my beacon of hope.
12
THE AIR OF ENGLAND
Josiah Traveller brought the
The engineer jockeyed his battered craft through the fires of air friction, the globe-circling winds of the upper atmosphere, and finally a quite devastating thunderstorm: still a mile from the ground we cowered in our seats, peering fearfully through the ports at swords of lightning which leapt from cloud to cloud; and we imagined that we had passed through Earth all the way to Hell.
And at last the
The Frenchman, Bourne, wept softly into the palm of his hand. I noticed this and, drawn by an odd sympathy I had acquired for the fellow, might have said some words to give him comfort. But my blood was racing at the thought that I had returned to my home country; a return that had seemed inconceivable through most of our astounding flight beyond the atmosphere. And so I pushed aside my restraints, still yelling like a coot, and stood up—
—and was floored, as fast as by any brawler’s haymaker, by my own astonishing weight!
My legs had crumpled like paper, and I found my face pressed uncomfortably against the deck. With arms which trembled from the strain I pushed myself upright and rested my back against the padded wall. “My word, fellows, this gravity has given us all a pack to wear.”
Holden nodded. “Traveller did warn us of the debilitating consequences of a lack of weight.”
“Yes; and so much for all his wretched exercise regimes. To the Moon with a set of Indian clubs! Well, I’d like to see how the great man himself is bearing up under this once-familiar strain…” But Holden shamed me with his reminder that Traveller was an old man who should not be encouraged to strain his heart. And so it was I who crawled like a weakened child to the large hatchway set in the wall of the Cabin.
