The Road to Science Fiction Page 12
The intersections of the equatorial and zodiacal circles create four cardinal points, like our equinoxes and solstices. These intersections mark the start of the zodiacal circle. But from this start the motion of the fixed stars in the order of the signs is very swift, since they traverse the entire zodiac in twenty tropical years (a tropical year being defined as one summer and one winter). For us this traversing takes almost 26,000 years. So much for the first motion.
The theory of the second motions is for them no less different from what appears to us, and is much more complicated for them than for us. The reason is that all six planets (Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, sun, Venus, Mercury) exhibit, besides the many inequalities which they have in common with us, three others for them. Two of these irregularities are in longitude; one is daily, the other has a period of eight and a half years. The third is in latitude, with a period of nineteen years. For the mid-Privolvans have the sun at their noon, other things being equal, bigger than when it rises, and the Subvolvans smaller. Both agree in believing that the sun diverges by some minutes from the ecliptic back and forth now among these fixed stars, now among those. These oscillations return to the original position, as I said, in a period of nineteen years. Yet this deviation takes a little more time for the Privolvans, a little less for the Subvolvans. And although the sun and the fixed stars are assumed to advance uniformly in the first motion around Levania, nevertheless, the sun barely progresses in relation to the fixed stars at noon for the Privolvans, whereas for the Subvolvans it is very fast at noon. The reverse is true at midnight. Hence the sun seems to make, as it were, certain jumps in relation to the fixed stars, separate jumps every day.
The same statements hold true for Venus, Mercury, and Mars; in the cases of Jupiter and Saturn, these phenomena are almost imperceptible.
Furthermore the diurnal motion is not uniform even at the same hour every day. On the contrary, it is slower at times not only for the sun but also for the fixed stars, while at the opposite season of the year at the like hour of the day it is faster. Moreover, the retardation shifts throughout the days of the year, so that sometimes it occurs on a summer day, sometimes on a winter day, which in another year had experienced the acceleration, one cycle being completed in a period of a little less than nine years. Hence the day sometimes becomes longer (through a natural retardation, not as with us on the earth through the unequal division of natural day), and sometimes the night, in turn, becomes longer.
But if the retardation occurs for the Privolvans during their night, its excess over their day is increased; on the other hand, if the retardation falls in their daytime, then their night and day approach more closely to equality, which is reached once in nine years. The converse is true for the Subvolvans.
So much for the phenomena which in a certain way happen in common to the hemispheres.
THE HEMISPHERE OF THE PRIVOLVANS
Now as for what concerns the individual hemispheres separately, there is an enormous contrast between them. By its presence and absence Volva gives rise to quite different spectacles. Not only that, but the common phenomena themselves produce very divergent effects on the two sides. As a result, the Privolvans’ hemisphere may perhaps more properly be called non-temperate, and the Subvolvans’, temperate. For among the Privolvans night lasts fifteen or sixteen of our natural days. It is made frightful by as deep an uninterrupted darkness as we have on a moonless night, since it never receives any light even from Volva’s rays. Consequently everything turns stiff with ice and frost, abetted by very sharp and very strong winds. Day follows, as long as fourteen of our days or a little less. During this time the sun is quite large and moves slowly with respect to the fixed stars. There are no winds. The result is immense heat. And thus, in the interval of our month or the Levanian day, one and the same place is exposed both to heat fifteen times hotter than our African, and to cold more unbearable than the Quiviran.
It should be especially noted that the planet Mars sometimes appears almost twice as big to the Privolvans as to us; to the mid-Privolvans this happens at midnight, and to the other Privolvans at some particular moment of the night for each.
THE HEMISPHERE OF THE SUBVOLVANS
In making the transition to this topic, I begin with the frontiersmen who inhabit the divisor circle. What is peculiar to them is that the elongations of Venus and Mercury from the sun seem much bigger to them than to us. Moreover, at certain times Venus looks twice as big to them as to us, especially to those of them who live near the north pole.
But the most beautiful of all the sights on Levania is the view of its Volva. This they enjoy to make up for our moon, of which they and likewise the Privolvans are completely deprived. From the perennial presence of this Volva this region is termed the Subvolvan, just as from the absence of Volva the other region is called the Privolvan, because they are deprived of the sight of Volva.
To us who inhabit the earth, our moon, when it is full and rising and climbing above distant houses, seems equal to the rim of a keg; when it mounts to mid-heaven, it hardly matches the width of the human face. But to the Subvolvans, their Volva in mid-heaven (a position which it occupies for those who live in the center or navel of this hemisphere) looks a little less than four times longer in diameter than our moon does to us. Hence, if the disks are compared, their Volva is fifteen times larger than our moon. However, to those for whom Volva always clings to the horizon, it presents the appearance of a mountain on fire far away.
Consequently, just as we differentiate between regions according to the greater and smaller altitudes of the pole, even through we do not see the pole itself with our eyes, so this same function is performed for them by Volva, which, although it is always visible, differs in altitude from place to place.
For, as I said, Volva stands directly over the heads of some of them; in other places it is seen low down near the horizon; and for the rest its altitude varies from the zenith to the horizon, while remaining forever constant in any given area.
Yet they, too, have their own poles. These are located, not at those fixed stars where our celestial poles are, but around other stars which for us mark the poles of the ecliptic. These poles of the moon-dwellers in a period of nineteen years traverse small circles around the poles of the ecliptic in the constellation of the Dragon and, at the other extremity, in the Swordfish (Dorado), Sparrow (Flying Fish), and the Greater Nebula. Since these poles of the moon-dwellers are about a quadrant’s distance from their Volva, their regions can be delimited both according to the poles and according to Volva. Hence it is clear how much more convenient their situation is than ours. For they indicate the longitude of places with reference to their motionless Volva, and the latitude with reference both to Volva and to the poles, whereas for longitudes we have nothing but that most lowly and barely perceptible declination of the magnet.
Their Volva remains fixed in place, then, as though it were attached to the heavens with a nail. Above it the other heavenly bodies, including the sun, move from east to west. There is never a night in which some of the fixed stars in the zodiac do not pass behind this Volva and emerge again on the other side. But the same fixed stars do not do so every night. All those which are within a distance of 6° or 7° from the ecliptic take turns. The cycle is complete in nineteen years, after which the first stars return.
Their Volva waxes and wanes no less than our moon does. In both cases the cause is the same: the presence of the sun or its departure. The length of time involved is also the same, if you look to nature. But they measure it in one way, and we in another. They consider a day and a night the interval in which their Volva passes through all its waxings and wanings. This is the interval which we call a month. On account of its size and brilliance Volva is practically never, not even at new Volva, hidden from the Subvolvans. This is true in particular for those who live near the poles and are deprived of the sun during that time. For them Volva turns its horns upward at noon in the inter-Volvan period. For in general, for those who live be
tween Volva and the poles on the mid-Volvan circle, new Volva is the sign of noon; the first quarter, of evening; full Volva, of midnight; the last quarter, of returning sunlight. For those who have Volva as well as the poles located on the horizon and who live at the intersection of the equator with the divisor, morning or evening occurs at new Volva and full Volva, noon or midnight at the quarters. Let these remarks provide the basis for conclusions regarding those who live in between.
In the daytime, too, they distinguish the hours in this way according to the various phases of their Volva; for example, the closer the approach of the sun and Volva to each other, the nearer is noon for the mid-Volvans, and evening or sunset for those at the equator. But at night, which regularly lasts as long as fourteen of our days and nights, they are much better equipped to measure time than we are. For besides that series of Volva’s phases, of which we said that full Volva is the sign of midnight at the mid-Volvan circle, Volva itself also distinguishes the hours for them. For even though it does not seem to have any motion in space, nevertheless, unlike our moon, it rotates in its place and displays in turn a wonderful variety of spots, as these spots move constantly from east to west. One such revolution, in which the same spots return, is regarded by the Subvolvans as one hour of time; it is equal, however, to a little more than one of our days added to one of our nights. This is the only uniform measure of time. For, as was pointed out above, the sun and stars move non-uniformly about the moon-dwellers every day. This non-uniformity is revealed very clearly by this rotation of Volva if it is compared with the distances of the fixed stars from the moon.
So far as its upper, northern part is concerned, Volva in general seems to have two halves. One of them is darker and covered with almost continuous spots. The other is a little lighter, being interpenetrated by a bright belt which lies to the north and serves to distinguish the two halves. In the darker half the shape of the spot is hard to describe. Yet on the eastern side it looks like the front of the human head cut off at the shoulders and leaning forward to kiss a young girl in a long dress, who stretches her hand back to attract a leaping cat. The bigger and broader part of the spot, however, extends westward without any apparent configuration. In the other half of Volva the brightness is more widely diffused than the spot. You might call it the outline of a bell hanging from a rope and swinging westward. What lies above and below cannot be likened to anything.
Besides distinguishing the hours of the day for them in this manner, Volva also furnishes no obscure indication of the seasons of the year to anyone who is observant, or who is unaware of the arrangement of the fixed stars. Even when the sun is in the sign of the Crab, Volva clearly displays the north pole of its rotation. For there is a certain small dark spot which is stuck in the middle of the bright area above the figure of the girl. From the highest and uppermost part of Volva this spot moves toward the east, and then as it drops down over the disk, toward the west; from this side it again turns eastward toward the top of Volva, and thus it is perpetually visible at that time. But when the sun is in the sign of the Goat, this spot is nowhere to be seen since the entire circle with its pole disappears behind the body of Volva. In these two seasons of the year the spots travel westward in a straight line. But in the intervening seasons, when the sun is in the sign of the Ram or the Balance, the spots either drop down or climb up crosswise in a somewhat crooked line. These facts show us that, while the center of the body of Volva remains stationary, the poles of this rotation revolve on an arctic circle once a year around the pole of the moon-dwellers.
More careful observers notice also that Volva does not always retain the same size. For at those hours of the day when the heavenly bodies travel fast, the diameter of Volva is much bigger, so that then it altogether exceeds four times the diameter of our moon.
What shall I say now about the eclipses of the sun and of Volva? Eclipses occur on Levania too, and they occur at the same moments as solar and lunar eclipses here on the globe of the earth, although obviously for the opposite reasons. For when a total eclipse of the sun is visible to us, for them Volva is eclipsed. In turn, when our moon is eclipsed for us, the sun is eclipsed for them. Nevertheless, the correspondence is not complete. For they often see partial eclipses of the sun when no part of the moon is blacked out for us. On the other hand, they not infrequently miss eclipses of Volva when we have partial eclipses of the sun. Volva is eclipsed for them when it is full, just as is the moon for us when it is full; but the sun is eclipsed at new Volva, as it is for us at new moon. Since their days and nights are so long, they experience very frequent darkenings of both bodies. For whereas among us a large percentage of the eclipses passes on to our antipodes, their antipodes, because they are Privolans, see absolutely none of these phenomena, which are all witnessed by the Subvolvans alone.
They never see a total eclipse of Volva. However, for them the body of Volva is traversed by a certain small spot which is reddish around the rim and black in the middle. Entering from the eastern side of Volva, it leaves by the western edge, following the same course as the natural spots of Volva, while surpassing them in speed. It lasts one-sixth of a Levanian hour or four of our hours.
A solar eclipse is caused for them by their Volva, just as it is for us by our moon. This phenomenon is inevitable since Volva has a diameter four times bigger than the sun’s. As the sun crosses from the east through the south beyond the motionless Volva to the west, it very often passes behind Volva, which thus occults the sun’s body partially or totally. Even though an occultation of the sun’s entire body is frequent, it is nevertheless quite remarkable because it lasts several of our hours, while the light of both the sun and Volva is extinguished at the same time. This is a grand spectacle for the Subvolvans. For under other circumstances their nights are not much darker than their days on account of the brilliance and size of Volva, which is always present, whereas in a solar eclipse both luminaries, the sun and Volva, are quenched for them.
Yet among them solar eclipses have the following peculiar feature. Hardly has the sun disappeared behind the body of Volva than, as happens quite frequently, bright light arises on the opposite side. It is as though the sun expanded and embraced the entire body of Volva, whereas at other times the sun appears just as many degrees smaller than Volva. Therefore complete darkness does not always occur, unless the centers of the bodies are almost exactly aligned and the condition of the intervening transparent medium is suitable. Nor, on the other hand, is Volva extinguished so suddenly that it cannot be seen at all, even though the sun is entirely hidden behind it; the only exception takes place at the middle moment of a total eclipse. But at the beginning of a total eclipse in certain localities on the divisor Volva still shines, like an ember which continues to glow after a flame has been put out. When Volva, too, ceases to shine, the middle of the total eclipse has arrived (for if the eclipse is not total, Volva does not cease to shine). When Volva resumes its shining (at the opposite localities on the divisor circle) the sun also approaches visibility. Thus to a certain extent both luminaries are extinguished at the same time in the middle of a total eclipse.
So much for the phenomena in both hemispheres of Levania, the Subvolvan and the Privolvan. From these phenomena, even without my saying anything, it is not difficult to infer how much the Subvolvans differ from the Privolvans in all other respects.
For although the Subvolvan night lasts as long as fourteen of our days and nights, nevertheless by its presence Volva lights up the land and protects it from the cold. Indeed, so huge a mass, so intense a brilliance cannot fail to impart warmth.
On the other hand, even though a day among the Subvolvans has the sun irksomely present for fifteen or sixteen of our days and nights, nevertheless it is a smaller sun, whose strength is not so dangerous. The luminaries, being joined, pull all the water to that hemisphere, where the land is submerged so that only a tiny quantity of it protrudes. By contrast the Privolvan hemisphere is dry and cold because all the water has been drawn off. Howeve
r, when night begins for the Subvolvans and day for the Privolvans, the hemispheres divide the luminaries between them, and therefore the water is divided too; the fields of the Subvolvans are drained, whereas the moisture provides the Privolvans with some slight relief from the heat.
The whole of Levania does not exceed fourteen hundred German miles in circumference, that is, only a quarter of our earth. Nevertheless, it has very high mountains as well as very deep and wide valleys; to this extent it is much less of a perfect sphere than our earth is. Yet it is all porous and, so to say, perforated with caves and grottoes everywhere, especially in the Privolvan region; these recesses are the inhabitants’ principal protection from heat and cold.
Whatever is born on the land or moves about on the land attains a monstrous size. Growth is very rapid. Everything has a short life, since it develops such an immensely massive body. The Privolvans have no fixed abode, no established domicile. In the course of one of their days they roam in crowds over their whole sphere, each according to his own nature: some use their legs, which far surpass some of our camels; some resort to wings; and some follow the receding water in boats; or if a delay of several more days is necessary, then they crawl into caves. Most of them are divers; all of them, since they live naturally, draw their breath very slowly; hence under water they stay down on the bottom, helping nature with art. For in those very deep layers of the water, they say, the cold persists while the waves on top are heated up by the sun; whatever clings to the surface is boiled out by the sun at noon, and becomes food for the advancing hordes of wandering inhabitants. For in general the Subvolvan hemisphere is comparable to our cantons, towns, and gardens; the Privolvan, to our open country, forests, and deserts. Those for whom breathing is more essential introduce the hot water into the caves through a narrow channel in order that it may flow a long time to reach the interior and gradually cool off. There they shut themselves up for the greater part of the day, using the water for drink; when evening comes, they go out looking for food. In plants, the rind; in animals, the skin, or whatever replaces it, takes up the major portion of their bodily mass; it is spongy and porous. If anything is exposed during the day, it becomes hard on top and scorched; when evening comes, its husk drops off. Things born in the ground—they are sparse on the ridges of the mountains—generally begin and end their lives on the same day, with new generations springing up daily.