Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Off on a Comet! a Journey through Planetary Space by Jules Verne (robert munsch read aloud .TXT) 📖
- Author: Jules Verne
Book online «Off on a Comet! a Journey through Planetary Space by Jules Verne (robert munsch read aloud .TXT) 📖». Author Jules Verne
By the 14th the balloon was finished, and, carefully sewn and well varnished as it had been, it was really a very substantial structure. It was covered with a network that had been made from the light rigging of the yacht, and the car, composed of wicker-work that had formed partitions in the hold of the Hansa, was quite commodious enough to hold the twenty-three passengers it was intended to convey. No thought had been bestowed upon comfort or convenience, as the ascent was to last for so short a time, merely long enough for making the transit from atmosphere to atmosphere.
The necessity was becoming more and more urgent to get at the true hour of the approaching contact, but the professor seemed to grow more obstinate than ever in his resolution to keep his secret.
On the 15th the comet crossed the orbit of Mars, at the safe distance of 56,000,000 leagues; but during that night the community thought that their last hour had taken them unawares. The volcano rocked and trembled with the convulsions of internal disturbance, and Servadac and his companions, convinced that the mountain was doomed to some sudden disruption, rushed into the open air.
The first object that caught their attention as they emerged upon the open rocks was the unfortunate professor, who was scrambling down the mountain-side, piteously displaying a fragment of his shattered telescope.
It was no time for condolence.
A new marvel arrested every eye. A fresh satellite, in the gloom of night, was shining conspicuously before them.
That satellite was a part of Gallia itself!
By the expansive action of the inner heat, Gallia, like Gambart’s comet, had been severed in twain; an enormous fragment had been detached and launched into space!
The fragment included Ceuta and Gibraltar, with the two English garrisons!
CHAPTER XVII. THE VENTURE MADE
What would be the consequences of this sudden and complete disruption, Servadac and his people hardly dared to think.
The first change that came under their observation was the rapidity of the sun’s appearances and disappearances, forcing them to the conviction that although the comet still rotated on its axis from east to west, yet the period of its rotation had been diminished by about one-half. Only six hours instead of twelve elapsed between sunrise and sunrise; three hours after rising in the west the sun was sinking again in the east.
“We are coming to something!” exclaimed Servadac. “We have got a year of something like 2,880 days.”
“I shouldn’t think it would be an easy matter to find saints enough for such a calendar as that!” said Ben Zoof.
Servadac laughed, and remarked that they should have the professor talking about the 238th of June, and the 325th of December.
It soon became evident that the detached portion was not revolving round the comet, but was gradually retreating into space. Whether it had carried with it any portion of atmosphere, whether it possessed any other condition for supporting life, and whether it was likely ever again to approach to the earth, were all questions that there were no means of determining. For themselves the all-important problem was—what effect would the rending asunder of the comet have upon its rate of progress? and as they were already conscious of a further increase of muscular power, and a fresh diminution of specific gravity, Servadac and his associates could not but wonder whether the alteration in the mass of the comet would not result in its missing the expected coincidence with the earth altogether.
Although he professed himself incompetent to pronounce a decided opinion, Lieutenant Procope manifestly inclined to the belief that no alteration would ensue in the rate of Gallia’s velocity; but Rosette, no doubt, could answer the question directly, and the time had now arrived in which he must be compelled to divulge the precise moment of collision.
But the professor was in the worst of tempers. Generally taciturn and morose, he was more than usually uncivil whenever any one ventured to speak to him. The loss of his telescope had doubtless a great deal to do with his ill-humor; but the captain drew the most favorable conclusions from Rosette’s continued irritation. Had the comet been in any way projected from its course, so as to be likely to fail in coming into contact with the earth, the professor would have been quite unable to conceal his satisfaction. But they required to know more than the general truth, and felt that they had no time to lose in getting at the exact details.
The opportunity that was wanted soon came.
On the 18th, Rosette was overheard in furious altercation with Ben Zoof. The orderly had been taunting the astronomer with the mutilation of his little comet. A fine thing, he said, to split in two like a child’s toy. It had cracked like a dry nut; and mightn’t one as well live upon an exploding bomb?—with much more to the same effect. The professor, by way of retaliation, had commenced sneering at the “prodigious” mountain of Montmartre, and the dispute was beginning to look serious when Servadac entered.
Thinking he could turn the wrangling to some good account, so as to arrive at the information he was so anxiously seeking, the captain pretended to espouse the views of his orderly; he consequently brought upon himself the full force of the professor’s wrath.
Rosette’s language became more and more violent, till Servadac, feigning to be provoked beyond endurance, cried:
“You forget, sir, that you are addressing the Governor-General of Gallia.”
“Governor-General! humbug!” roared Rosette. “Gallia is my comet!”
“I deny it,” said Servadac. “Gallia has lost its chance of getting back to the earth. Gallia has nothing to do with you. Gallia is mine; and you must submit to the government which I please to ordain.”
“And who told you that Gallia is not going back to the earth?” asked the professor, with a look of withering scorn.
“Why, isn’t her mass diminished? Isn’t she split in half? Isn’t her velocity all altered?” demanded the captain.
“And pray who told you this?” again said the professor, with a sneer.
“Everybody. Everybody knows it, of course,” replied Servadac.
“Everybody is very clever. And you always were a very clever scholar too. We remember that of old, don’t we?”
“Sir!”
“You nearly mastered the first elements of science, didn’t you?”
“Sir!”
“A credit to your class!”
“Hold your tongue, sir!” bellowed the captain again, as if his anger was uncontrollable.
“Not I,” said the professor.
“Hold your tongue!” repeated Servadac.
“Just
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