Chapter 6 Chapter 5 The Coldness of Space

This discovery was like a bolt from the blue.Who would have expected such a miscalculation to occur?Barbicane did not want to believe it.Nicholl rechecked his numbers.The numbers are exactly right.As for the formula, no one could doubt its correctness. He checked it again, and the initial velocity that the projectile must have to reach the place where there is no gravity is still 16,576 meters. The three friends looked at each other without saying a word.Not to mention skipping breakfast at all.Barbicane gritted his teeth, frowned, and looked out with his fists clenched convulsively.Nicholl crossed his arms and checked his numbers carefully.Michel Ardan was saying to himself: "Look at these scientists! They can't do anything else! I'd give twenty piastres to jump down and take the Cambridge Observatory with all the fakes in it." The numbers are smashed to pieces!"

Nicholl suddenly remembered something, and he immediately told Barbicane. "Why! It's seven o'clock in the morning now," he said. "That means we've been walking for thirty-two hours. We've covered half the distance, but as far as I know, we haven't started to fall yet!" Barbicane made no answer.But, glancing at the captain, he picked up the compass and measured the angle of the earth.Then, through the porthole at the bottom, he made a very correct observation, for the projectile appeared to be perfectly still.He raised his head, wiped the sweat off his face, and wrote a few numbers on a piece of paper.Nicholl knew that the chairman planned to use the diameter of the earth to calculate the distance between the porthole and the earth.He looked at him impatiently.

"Yes!" he exclaimed after a while, "yes, we haven't fallen yet! We've been more than fifty thousand leagues away from the earth! If the projectile's muzzle velocity were only eleven thousand meters, it would explode halfway. Stop going, we're over this place now! We're going up!" "Obviously," replied Nicholl, "we must draw the conclusion that, propelled by 400,000 pounds of high explosives, our muzzle velocity must have exceeded the original requirement of 11,000 meters. My basis is that we only need thirteen minutes Just encountered a second satellite orbiting more than 2,000 leagues from the earth."

"This explanation is probably correct," added Barbicane, "because the projectile, having expelled the water in the compartment, suddenly lost a great deal of weight." "Exactly!" said Nicholl. "Oh! good captain," cried Barbicane, "we are saved!" "Well," said Michel Ardan quietly, "since we are saved, let's have breakfast." In fact, Nicholl was not mistaken.Fortunately, the initial velocity of the projectile exceeded the speed required by the Cambridge Observatory, but the data of the Cambridge Observatory were still wrong.

The three travelers, after a false alarm, were now seated at the table, and began to eat their breakfast cheerfully.Not only do they have a good appetite, but they are also very good at talking.They are more confident than they were before "The Algebraic Incident." "Why can't we succeed?" Michel Ardan said over and over again, "Why can't we reach our destination. We've already started. There will be no stumbling blocks in our way. Our sea lanes are freer than a line and the sea Freedom is the sailing arm of a struggling ship, or a balloon battling the wind! If a ship can sail wherever it wants, and a balloon can rise wherever it pleases, why don't our projectiles reach their intended destination?"

"It must be possible," said Barbicane. "Even if it is for the honor of the American people," went on Michel Hordan, "only the American people in the world can accomplish such an undertaking, and only they can produce a Barbican chairman! Ah! I remember Now, since we don't have to worry anymore, we're afraid we're going to be bored again?" Barbicane and Nicholl made a gesture of disapproval. "I had foreseen this, my friends," continued Michel Ardan. "You can only chat. But I have chess, checkers, cards, and dominoes at your disposal! Only one billiard table is missing!"

"What?" asked Barbicane, "you brought even these little things?" "Of course," replied Michele, "it's not just to amuse us, but to enrich the life of the Lunar Café, an intention that is always admirable, isn't it?" "My friend," said Barbicane, "if there were men on the Moon, they would have been thousands of years earlier than man on Earth, since no one can doubt that this celestial body is older than ours. Thousands of years before us, if their brain organization was the same as humans, maybe they would have invented what we have already invented and even centuries later. They have nothing to learn from us, but we have nothing Learn from them."

"What!" replied Michel, "do you think they have artists like Phidias, Michelangelo, or Raphael?" "Exactly." "Are there poets like Homer, Virgil, Milton, Lamartine, Hugo?" "of course." "Are there philosophers like Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, and Kant, and are there scientists like Archimedes, Euclid, Pascal, and Newton?" "I can swear it." "Well, my friend Barbicane, if they are as capable as we are, or even more capable than we are, why don't the Lunarians try to make contact with Earth? Why don't they send a Lunarian projectile to our Earth? "

"Who told you they didn't do it?" answered Barbicane gravely. "And in fact," added Nicholl, "it is more convenient than ours, for two reasons. First, the moon's gravitational force is five times smaller than that of the earth, so it is easier to launch projectiles; second, they only need to send projectiles to At eight thousand leagues instead of eighty thousand, one-tenth the launch force would be required." "So," Michelle went on, "I'll say it again: why didn't they do it?" "I repeat," retorted Barbicane, "who told you they didn't; ever did?"

"When did you do it?" "Thousands of years ago, when there were no humans on the earth." "Where are the cannonballs? Where are the cannonballs? I just want to see the cannonballs!" "My friend," replied Barbicane, "our earth is covered by five-sixths of the surface of the ocean, so we have reason to suppose that, if the Moonmen actually launched a projectile, it might also sink to the bottom of the Atlantic or Pacific Ocean. gone. Or buried in a cleft in the earth, for the earth's crust was not yet formally formed." "My old Barbicane," replied Michel, "you are good at answering questions, I admire you; However, I have a hypothesis in my favour: that is, the men on the moon, though older and wiser than we are, may not have invented gunpowder yet!"

At this time, Diana also joined their conversation, and it barked.It is asking for its breakfast. "Alas!" said Michel Ardan, "we are so busy arguing that we have forgotten our Diana and our satellites!" Immediately he brought the bitch a bowl of delicious food, which she devoured. "You see, Barbicane," said Michel, "we shall transform this projectile into Noah's Ark, and take a pair of every animal we keep to the moon!" "It should be done," answered Barbicane, "but there is not enough room." "Okay!" Michelle, "Just a little squeeze!" "In fact," said Nicholl, "cows, cows, and bulls, all these ruminants are useful to us on the lunar continent. Unfortunately, we cannot turn this carriage into a stable or livestock shed." "But," said Michel Ardan, "we can take an ass at least, a little donkey, that courageous and patient animal that even old Silenus loved to ride: I like these poor donkeys too! They are the animals that are least favored by nature. Not only are they beaten when they are alive, but they will be beaten when they are dead!" "What does that mean?" asked Barbicane. "Oh!" said Michelle, "because the drums are made of donkey skin!" Barbicane and Nicholl could not help laughing at such absurdities. But the cry of their merry friend made them pause.The latter was bending over to look at Satellite's kennel. He looked up and said, "Very good! Satellite will never get sick again." "Ah!" Nicholl snorted. "Yes," said Michel again, "it's dead." Then he added in a distressed and pitiful tone: "This will be troublesome! My poor Diana, I am afraid that you are not on the Lunar Continent." The law has been passed on to the next generation!" In fact, the unfortunate satellite's injuries did not heal.It's dead, really dead.Michelle: Adam looks at his friends and doesn't know what to do. "Now there is a problem," said Barbicane, "that we cannot keep the dog's body for another forty-eight hours." "No doubt," replied Nicholl, "but our portholes are hinged, and we can lower the shutters. We can open a porthole and throw its corpse into space." The club president thought for a moment, then said, "Yes, it can be done, but with extreme care." "Why?" Michelle asked. For two reasons, which you will soon see," replied Barbicane; "the first has to do with the air in the flesh of the projectile, which must be lost as little as possible. " "Can't we make air?" "Only a part can be made. We can only make oxygen, my honour, Michel, and by the way, we must keep an eye on our apparatus at all times and not let the supply of oxygen exceed the limit, as too much oxygen can cause serious psychological Confusion. But while we can make oxygen, we can't make nitrogen, which is a conductor, and though our lungs can't absorb it, we can't lose it. If the portholes are opened, the nitrogen will escape very quickly." "Oh! It's only a matter of time to throw the poor satellite out," Michelle said. "Okay, but you have to act quickly." "So, what about the second reason?" Michelle said. "The second reason is that the cold outside should not be allowed to penetrate the projectile, otherwise we would be frozen to death." "But there's sun outside..." "The sun can heat our projectile, it can absorb sunlight, but the sun cannot heat the vacuum in which we are now flying. Where there is no air, there is only diffused light, no warmth, and at the same time, everything that the sun does not reach place, it is dark and cold. If one day the sun goes out, the earth will be so cold under the light of the stars." "There's no need to worry about that," Nicholl said. "Who knows?" Michelle asked.Adam said. "Besides, even if the sun does not go out, maybe the earth will leave the sun!" "Aha!" said Barbicane, "Michel has many new insights!" "Didn't we already know in 1861," said Michel, "that the earth passed through the tail of a comet? We may assume that the comet's gravitational pull was greater than that of the sun, and that the earth would become its satellites, carried so far away that the rays of the sun no longer have any influence on the surface of the earth." "As a matter of fact, it is possible," replied Barbicane, "but, even if it should happen, the displacement of the earth is probably not so terrible as you imagine." "why?" "Because, on our earth, cold and heat are always in balance. Someone once calculated that if the earth was swept away by the comet of 1861, at the place farthest from the sun, the heat it would bear Precisely sixteen times the size of the Moon, even the largest lenses to focus this sunlight into a focal point would not produce appreciable heat." "How?" Michelle said. "Wait a moment, please," answered Barbicane. "They also calculated that at perihelion, that is to say, at the point closest to the sun, the heat on the earth is equal to 28,000 times that of summer. But at this temperature, the matter of the earth will be turned into glass. If it is a similar solution, water will also be turned into steam, so that extremely thick clouds and fog will be formed on the outer layer of the earth, which will reduce the excessive temperature of the earth. Therefore, the coldness at the aphelion and the heat at the perihelion will cancel each other out, Maybe the average temperature of the earth is still tolerable." "However, what is the estimated temperature of the planetary space?" Nicholl asked. "The temperature was previously thought to be very low," answered Barbicane. "According to calculations, some people estimated that it would be several million degrees below zero. Later, one of Michel's fellow countrymen, Fourier, a famous scientist of the French Academy of Sciences, overturned this data and made a more correct estimate. According to him, the space The temperature never drops below sixty degrees below zero." "Hey!" Michelle grunted. "It's about the same temperature as the arctic temperatures measured at Melville Island or at Lelyans Fort," continued Barbicane, "that is to say about minus fifty-six degrees Celsius." "Finally, we have to prove," said Nicholl, "whether Fourier's estimate was wrong. If I am not mistaken, another French scientist, Mr. Pouille, estimated the temperature of space at 160 degrees above zero. We will immediately can be verified.” "Not yet," replied Barbicane, "because the sun's rays fall directly on our thermometers, and the temperature would be very high on the contrary. But when we reach the moon, we will be able to survive the fifteen days of darkness during which the moon alternates." , carry out this experiment calmly, because our satellite also operates in a vacuum." "But what do you mean by vacuum?" Michel asked. "Absolute vacuum?" "A vacuum with absolutely no air.," In an absolute vacuum, is there nothing that replaces air? ""Have.Aether," answered Barbicane. "Ah! What is ether?" "The ether, my friend, is an immeasurable concentration of atoms, which, according to the books on molecular physics, are not only small in size, but also very far apart from one another, as are the celestial bodies in space. ...and yet their distance is less than three millionths of a millimeter. It is these atoms that produce light and heat through their vibrations of 430 trillion times per second, but their amplitude is only 400 to 60,000 One-fifth of a millimeter." "It's always trillions of trillions when you open your mouth!" Michelle.Adam shouted, "But who has measured and calculated its amplitude! All these figures, my friend Barbicane, were made by those scientists. " "It has to be explained with numbers..." "It's not necessary. It's better to use the method of comparison. A trillion can't explain anything. But a comparison will make everything clear. For example, you should tell me: Uranus is seventy-six times larger than the earth, and Saturn is nine times larger." A hundred times, Jupiter is 1,300 times bigger, and the sun is 1.3 million times bigger. I can’t explain the following. Therefore, I like to compare, and I even like the old comparison method of "The Double Liege", He will foolishly tell you that the sun is like a big pumpkin two feet in diameter, Jupiter is an orange, Saturn is a small apple, Neptune is a maraschino cherry, Uranus is a big cherry, and the earth is a pea The Golden Emperor is a little pea, Mars is the head of a pin, Mercury is a mustard seed, and the Queen of Heaven, Ceres, Vesta, and Pallas are just a few ordinary grains of sand. Let people know what's going on!" After Michel Ardan had vented for a while on the scientists and the strings of astronomical figures they relentlessly listed, the three of them held a funeral for the satellite.In fact, just throw it into the sky, the same way sailors throw the dead body into the sea. However, just as the chairman of the club has said: the movement must be fast, and the air should not be lost as much as possible, because the air is very fluid and easily flows into the vacuum of space very quickly.The starboard window was about thirty centimeters away, and when all the bolts were unscrewed, Michele, full of wounds, was ready to send his dog into the space.As soon as the hinged porthole opens a thin crack under the pressure of the powerful lever (the only such lever capable of overcoming the pressure of the air inside against the wall), the satellite is thrown outside, with very little air escaping into space, and this work It was so well done that Barbicane never had to worry about getting rid of the rubbish in the projectile anymore.