Garrett P. Service - Second Deluge

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The Second Deluge
Garrett P. Serviss
This page copyright © 2003 Blackmask Online.
http://www.blackmask.com
CHAPTER I. COSMO VERSAL CHAPTER II. MOCKING AT FATE CHAPTER III. THE FIRST
DROPS OF THE DELUGE CHAPTER IV. THE WORLD SWEPT WITH TERROR CHAPTER V.
THE THIRD SIGN CHAPTER VI. SELECTING THE FLOWER OF MANKIND CHAPTER VII.
THE WATERS BEGIN TO RISE CHAPTER VIII. STORMING THE ARK CHAPTER IX. THE
COMPANY OF THE REPRIEVED CHAPTER X. THE LAST DAY OF NEW YORK CHAPTER
XI. “A BILLION FOR A SHARE” CHAPTER XII. THE SUBMERGENCE OF THE OLD WORLD
CHAPTER XIII. STRANGE FREAKS OF THE NEBULA CHAPTER XIV. THE ESCAPE OF THE
PRESIDENT CHAPTER XV. PROFESSOR PLUDDER'S DEVICE CHAPTER XVI. MUTINY IN
THE ARK CHAPTER XVII. THE JULES VERNE CHAPTER XVIII. NAVIGATING OVER
DROWNED EUROPE CHAPTER XIX. TO PARIS UNDER THE SEA CHAPTER XX. THE
ADVENTURES IN COLORADO CHAPTER XXI. “THE FATHER OF HORROR” CHAPTER
XXII. THE TERRIBLE NUCLEUS ARRIVES CHAPTER XXIII. ROBBING THE CROWN OF
THE WORLD CHAPTER XXIV. THE FRENCHMAN'S NEW SCHEME CHAPTER XXV. NEW
YORK IN HER OCEAN TOMB CHAPTER XXVI. NEW AMERICA
E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Erica Jacobson, Sandra Brown, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team
THE SECOND DELUGE
By
Garrett P. Serviss
1912
[Illustration: “THEY MEANT TO CARRY THE ARK WITH A RUSH” [Page 106] ]
FOREWORD
What is here set down is the fruit of long and careful research among disjointed records left by survivors
of the terrible events described. The writer wishes frankly to say that, in some instances, he has followed
the course which all historians are compelled to take by using his imagination to round out the picture. But
he is able conscientiously to declare that in the substance of his narrative, as well as in every detail which
is specifically described, he has followed faithfully the accounts of eyewitnesses, or of those who were in
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a position to know the truth of what they related.
CHAPTER I. COSMO VERSAL
An undersized, lean, wizen-faced man, with an immense bald head, as round and smooth and shining as
a giant soap-bubble, and a pair of beady black eyes, set close together, so that he resembled a gnome of
amazing brain capacity and prodigious power of concentration, sat bent over a writing desk with a huge
sheet of cardboard before him, on which he was swiftly drawing geometrical and trigonometrical figures.
Compasses, T-squares, rulers, protractors, and ellipsographs obeyed the touch of his fingers as if
inspired with life.
The room around him was a jungle of terrestrial and celestial globes, chemists' retorts, tubes, pipes, and
all the indescribable apparatus that modern science has invented, and which, to the uninitiated, seems as
incomprehensible as the ancient paraphernalia of alchemists and astrologers. The walls were lined with
book shelves, and adorned along the upper portions with the most extraordinary photographs and
drawings. Even the ceiling was covered with charts, some representing the sky, while many others were
geological and topographical pictures of the face of the earth.
Beside the drawing-board lay a pad of paper, and occasionally the little man nervously turned to this,
and, grasping a long pencil, made elaborate calculations, covering the paper with a sprinkling of
mathematical symbols that looked like magnified animalcula. While he worked, under a high light from a
single window placed well up near the ceiling, his forehead contracted into a hundred wrinkles, his
cheeks became feverous, his piercing eyes glowed with inner fire, and drops of perspiration ran down in
front of his ears. One would have thought that he was laboring to save his very soul and had but a few
seconds of respite left.
Presently he threw down the pencil, and with astonishing agility let himself rapidly, but carefully, off the
stool on which he had been sitting, keeping the palms of his hands on the seat beside his hips until he felt
his feet touch the floor. Then he darted at a book-shelf, pulled down a ponderous tome, flapped it open
in a clear space on the floor, and dropped on his knees to consult it.
After turning a leaf or two he found what he was after, read down the page, keeping a finger on the lines,
and, having finished his reading, jumped to his feet and hurried back to the stool, on which he mounted so
quickly that it was impossible to see how he managed it—without an upset. Instantly he made a new
diagram, and then fell to figuring furiously on the pad, making his pencil gyrate so fast that its upper end
vibrated like the wing of a dragon-fly.
At last he threw down the pencil, and, encircling his knees with his clasped arms, sank in a heap on the
stool. The lids dropped over his shining eyes, and he became buried in thought.
When he reopened his eyes and unbent his brows, his gaze happened to be directed toward a row of
curious big photographs which ran like a pictured frieze round the upper side of the wall of the room. A
casual observer might have thought that the little man had been amusing himself by photographing the
explosions of fireworks on a Fourth of July night; but it was evident by his expression that these singular
pictures had no connection with civic pyrotechnics, but must represent something of incomparably greater
importance, and, in fact, of stupendous import.
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The little man's face took on a rapt look, in which wonder and fear seemed to be blended. With a sweep
of his hand he included the whole series of photographs in a comprehensive glance, and then, settling his
gaze upon a particularly bizarre object in the center, he began to speak aloud, although there was nobody
to listen to him.
“My God!” he said. “That's it! That Lick photograph of the Lord Rosse Nebula is its very image, except
that there's no electric fire in it. The same great whirl of outer spirals, and then comes the awful central
mass—and we're going to plunge straight into it. Then quintillions of tons of water will condense on the
earth and cover it like a universal cloudburst. And then good-by to the human race—unless—unless—I,
Cosmo Versal, inspired by science, can save a remnant to repeople the planet after the catastrophe.”
Again, for a moment, he closed his eyes, and puckered his hemispherical brow, while, with drawn-up
knees, he seemed perilously balanced on the high stool. Several times he slowly shook his head, like a
dreaming owl, and when his eyes reopened their fire was gone, and a reflective film covered them. He
began to speak, more deliberately than before, and in a musing tone:
“What can I do? I don't believe there is a mountain on the face of the globe lofty enough to lift its head
above that flood. Hum, hum! It's no use thinking about mountains! The flood will be six miles deep—six
miles from the present sea-level; my last calculation proves it beyond all question. And that's only a
minimum—it may be miles deeper, for no mortal man can tell exactly what'll happen when the earth
plunges into a nebula.
“We'll have to float; that's the thing. I'll have to build an ark. I'll be a second Noah. But I'll advise the
whole world to build arks.
“Millions might save themselves that way, for the flood is not going to last forever. We'll get through the
nebula in a few months, and then the waters will gradually recede, and the high lands will emerge again.
It'll be an awful long time, though; I doubt if the earth will ever be just as it was before. There won't be
much room, except for fish—but there won't be many inhabitants for what dry land there is.”
Once more he fell into silent meditation, and while he mused there came a knock at the door. The little
man started up on his seat, alert as a squirrel, and turned his eyes over his shoulder, listening intently. The
knock was repeated—three quick sharp raps. Evidently he at once recognized them.
“All right,” he called out, and, letting himself down, ran swiftly to the door and opened it.
A tall, thin man, with bushy black hair, heavy eyebrows, a high, narrow forehead, and a wide, clean
shaven mouth, wearing a solemn kind of smile, entered and grasped the little man by both hands.
“Cosmo,” he said, without wasting any time on preliminaries, “have you worked it out?”
“I have just finished.”
“And you find the worst?”
“Yes, worse than I ever dreamed it would be. The waters will be six miles deep.”
“Phew!” exclaimed the other, his smile fading. “That is indeed serious. And when does it begin?”
“Inside of a year. We're within three hundred million miles of the watery nebula now, and you know that
the earth travels more than that distance in twelve months.”
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“Have you seen it?”
“How could I see it—haven't I told you it is invisible? If it could be seen all these stupid astronomers
would have spotted it long ago. But I'll tell you what I have seen.”
Cosmo Versal's voice sank into a whisper, and he shuddered slightly as he went on:
“Only last night I was sweeping the sky with the telescope when I noticed, in Hercules and Lyra, and all
that part of the heavens, a dimming of some of the fainter stars. It was like the shadow of the shroud of a
ghost. Nobody else would have noticed it, and I wouldn't if I had not been looking for it. It's knowledge
that clarifies the eyes and breeds knowledge, Joseph Smith. It was not truly visible, and yet I could see
that it was there. I tried to make out the shape of the thing—but it was too indefinite. But I know very
well what it is. See here”—he suddenly broke off—“Look at that photograph.” (He was pointing at the
Lord Rosse Nebula on the wall). “It's like that, only it's coming edgewise toward us. We may miss some
of the outer spirals, but we're going smash into the center.”
With fallen jaw, and black brows contracted, Joseph Smith stared at the photograph.
“It doesn't shine like that,” he said at last.
The little man snorted contemptuously.
“What have I told you about its invisibility?” he demanded.
“But how, then, do you know that it is of a watery nature?”
Cosmo Versal threw up his hands and waved them in an agony of impatience. He climbed upon his stool
to get nearer the level of the other's eyes, and fixing him with his gaze, exclaimed:
“You know very well how I know it. I know it because I have demonstrated with my new spectroscope,
which analyzes extra-visual rays, that all those dark nebulae that were photographed in the Milky Way
years ago are composed of watery vapor. They are far off, on the limits of the universe. This one is one
right at hand. It's a little one compared with them—but it's enough, yes, it's enough! You know that more
than two years ago I began to correspond with astronomers all over the world about this thing, and not
one of them would listen to me. Well, they'll listen when it's too late perhaps.
“They'll listen when the flood-gates are opened and the inundation begins. It's not the first time that this
thing has happened. I haven't a doubt that the flood of Noah, that everybody pretends to laugh at now,
was caused by the earth passing through a watery nebula. But this will be worse than that; there weren't
two thousand million people to be drowned then.”
For five minutes neither spoke. Cosmo Versal swung on the stool, and played with an ellipsograph;
Joseph Smith dropped his chin on his breast and nervously fingered the pockets of his long vest. At last
he raised his head and asked, in a low voice:
“What are you going to do, Cosmo?”
“I'm going to get ready,” was the short reply.
“How?”
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“Build an ark.”
“But will you give no warning to others?”
“I'll do my best. I'll telephone to all the officials, scientific and otherwise, in America, Europe, Africa,
Asia, and Australia. I'll write in every language to all the newspapers and magazines. I'll send out
circulars. I'll counsel everybody to drop every other occupation and begin to build arks—but nobody will
heed me. You'll see. My ark will be the only one, but I'll save as many in it as I can. And I depend upon
you, Joseph, to help me. From all appearances, it's the only chance that the human race has of survival.
“If I hadn't made this discovery they would all have been wiped out like miners in a flooded pit. We may
persuade a few to be saved—but what an awful thing it is that when the truth is thrust into their very faces
people won't believe, won't listen, won't see, won't be helped, but will die like dogs in their obstinate
ignorance and blindness.”
“But they will, they must, listen to you,” said Joseph Smith eagerly.
“Theywon't, but I mustmakethem,” replied Cosmo Versal. “Anyhow, I must make a few of the best of
them hear me. The fate of a whole race is at stake. If we can save a handful of the best blood and brain
of mankind, the world will have a new chance, and perhaps a better and higher race will be the result.
Since I can't save them all, I'll pick and choose. I'll have the flower of humanity in my ark. I'll at least
snatch that much from the jaws of destruction.”
The little man was growing very earnest and his eyes were aglow with the fire of enthusiastic purpose.
As he dropped his head on one side, it looked too heavy for the stemlike neck, but it conveyed an
impression of immense intellectual power. Its imposing contour lent force to his words.
“The flower of humanity,” he continued after a slight pause. “Who composes it? I must decide that
question. Is it the billionaires? Is it the kings and rulers? Is it the men of science? Is it the society leaders?
Bah! I'll have to think on that. I can't take them all, but I'll give them all a chance to save
themselves—though I know they won't act on the advice.”
Here he paused.
“Won't the existing ships do—especially if more are built?” Joseph Smith suddenly asked, interrupting
Cosmo's train of thought.
“Not at all,” was the reply. “They're not suited to the kind of navigation that will be demanded. They're
not buoyant enough, nor manageable enough, and they haven't enough carrying capacity for power and
provisions. They'll be swamped at the wharves, or if they should get away they'd be sent to the bottom
inside a few hours. Nothing but specially constructed arks will serve. Andthere'smore trouble for me—I
must devise a new form of vessel. Heavens, how short the time is! Why couldn't I have found this out ten
years ago? It's only to-day that I have myself learned the full truth, though I have worked on it so long.”
“How many will you be able to carry in your ark?” asked Smith.
“I can't tell yet. That's another question to be carefully considered. I shall build the vessel of this new
metal, levium, half as heavy as aluminum and twice as strong as steel. I ought to find room without the
slightest difficulty for a round thousand in it.”
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“Surely many more than that!” exclaimed Joseph Smith. “Why, there are ocean-liners that carry several
times as many.”
“You forget,” replied Cosmo Versal, “that we must have provisions enough to last for a long time,
because we cannot count on the immediate re-emergence of any land, even the most mountainous, and
the most compressed food takes space when a great quantity is needed. It won't do to overcrowd the
vessel, and invite sickness. Then, too, I must take many animals along.”
“Animals,” returned Smith. “I hadn't thought of that. But is it necessary?”
“Absolutely. Would you have less foresight than Noah? I shall not imitate him by taking male and female
of every species, but I must at least provide for restocking such land as eventually appears above the
waters with the animals most useful to man. Then, too, animals are essential to the life of the earth. Any
agricultural chemist would tell you that. They play an indispensable part in the vital cycle of the soil. I must
also take certain species of insects and birds. I'll telephone Professor Hergeschmitberger at Berlin to
learn precisely what are the capitally important species of the animal kingdom.”
“And when will you begin the construction of the ark?”
“Instantly. There's not a moment to lose. And it's equally important to send out warnings broadcast
immediately. There you can help me. You know what I want to say. Write it out at once; put it as strong
as you can; send it everywhere; put it in the shape of posters; hurry it to the newspaper offices.
Telephone, in my name, to the Carnegie Institution, to the Smithsonian Institution, to the Royal Society, to
the French, Russian, Italian, German, and all the other Academies and Associations of Science to be
found anywhere on earth.
“Don't neglect the slightest means of publicity. Thank Heaven, the money to pay for all this is not lacking.
If my good father, when he piled up his fortune from the profits of the Transcontinental Aerian Company,
could have foreseen the use to which his son would put it for the benefit—what do I say, for the benefit?
nay, for thesalvation—of mankind, he would have rejoiced in his work.”
“Ah, that reminds me,” exclaimed Joseph Smith. “I was about to ask, a few minutes ago, why airships
would not do for this business. Couldn't people save themselves from the flood by taking refuge in the
atmosphere?”
Cosmo Versal looked at his questioner with an ironical smile.
“Do you know,” he asked, “how long a dirigible can be kept afloat? Do you know for how long a
voyage the best aeroplane types can be provisioned with power? There's not an air-ship of any kind that
can go more than two weeks at the very uttermost without touching solid earth, and then it must be
mighty sparing of its power. If we can save mankind now, and give it another chance, perhaps the time
will come when power can be drawn out of the ether of space, and men can float in the air as long as
they choose.
“But as things are now, we must go back to Noah's plan, and trust to the buoyant power of water. I fully
expect that when the deluge begins people will flock to the high-lands and the mountains in air-ships—but
alas! that won't save them. Remember what I have told you—this flood is going to be six miles deep!”
The second morning after the conversation between Cosmo Versal and Joseph Smith, New York was
startled by seeing, in huge red letters, on every blank wall, on the bare flanks of towering sky-scrapers,
on the lofty stations of aeroplane lines, on bill-boards, fences, advertising-boards along suburban roads,
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in the Subway stations, and fluttering from strings of kites over the city, the following announcement:
THE WORLD IS TO BE DROWNED!
Save Yourselves While It Is Yet Time!
Drop Your Business: It Is of No Consequence!
Build Arks: It Is Your Only Salvation!
The Earth Is Going To Plunge into a Watery
Nebula: There Is No Escape!
Hundreds of Millions Will Be Drowned: You Have
Only a Few Months To Get Ready!
For Particulars Address: Cosmo Versal,
3000 Fifth Avenue.
CHAPTER II. MOCKING AT FATE
When New York recovered from its first astonishment over the extraordinary posters, it indulged in a
loud laugh. Everybody knew who Cosmo Versal was. His eccentricities had filled many readable
columns in the newspapers. Yet there was a certain respect for him, too. This was due to his
extraordinary intellectual ability and unquestionable scientific knowledge. But his imagination was as free
as the winds, and it often led him upon excursions in which nobody could follow him, and which caused
the more steady-going scientific brethren to shake their heads. They called him able but flighty. The public
considered him brilliant and amusing.
His father, who had sprung from some unknown source in southeastern Europe, and, beginning as a
newsboy in New York, had made his way to the front in the financial world, had left his entire fortune to
Cosmo. The latter had no taste for finance or business, but a devouring appetite for science, to which, in
his own way, he devoted all his powers, all his time, and all his money. He never married, was never seen
in society, and had very few intimates—but he was known by sight, or reputation, to everybody. There
was not a scientific body or association of any consequence in the world of which he was not a member.
Those which looked askance at his bizarre ideas were glad to accept pecuniary aid from him.
The notion that the world was to be drowned had taken possession of him about three years before the
opening scene of this narrative. To work out the idea, he built an observatory, set up a laboratory,
invented instruments, including his strange spectroscope, which was scoffed at by the scientific world.
Finally, submitting the results of his observations to mathematical treatment, he proved, to his own
satisfaction, the absolute correctness of his thesis that the well-known “proper motion of the solar
system" was about to result in an encounter between the earth and an invisible watery nebula, which
would have the effect of inundating the globe. As this startling idea gradually took shape, he
communicated it to scientific men in all lands, but failed to find a single disciple, except his friend Joseph
Smith, who, without being able to follow all his reasonings, accepted on trust the conclusions of Cosmo's
more powerful mind. Accordingly, at the end of his investigation, he enlisted Smith as secretary,
propagandist, and publicity agent.
New York laughed a whole day and night at the warning red letters. They were the talk of the town.
People joked about them in cafes, clubs, at home, in the streets, in the offices, in the exchanges, in the
street-cars, on the Elevated, in the Subways. Crowds gathered on corners to watch the flapping posters
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aloft on the kite lines. The afternoon newspapers issued specials which were all about the coming flood,
and everywhere one heard the cry of the newsboys:“Extra-a-a! Drowning of a Thousand Million
people! Cosmo Versal predicts the End of the World!”On their editorial pages the papers were careful
to discount the scare lines, and terrific pictures, that covered the front sheets, with humorous jibes at the
author of the formidable prediction.
The Owl,which was the only paper that put the news in half a column of ordinary type, took a judicial
attitude, called upon the city authorities to tear down the posters, and hinted that “this absurd person,
Cosmo Versal, who disgraces a once honored name with his childish attempt to create a sensation that
may cause untold harm among the ignorant masses,” had laid himself open to criminal prosecution.
In their latest editions, several of the papers printed an interview with Cosmo Versal, in which he gave
figures and calculations that, on their face, seemed to offer mathematical proof of the correctness of his
forecast. In impassioned language, he implored the public to believe that he would not mislead them,
spoke of the instant necessity of constructing arks of safety, and averred that the presence of the terrible
nebula that was so soon to drown the world was already manifest in the heavens.
Some readers of these confident statements began to waver, especially when confronted with
mathematics which they could not understand. But still, in general, the laugh went on. It broke into
boisterousness in one of the largest theaters where a bright-witted “artist,” who always made a point of
hitting off the very latest sensation, got himself up in a lifelike imitation of the well-known figure of Cosmo
Versal, topped with a bald head as big as a bushel, and sailed away into the flies with a pretty member of
the ballet, whom he had gallantly snatched from a tumbling ocean of green baize, singing at the top of his
voice until they disappeared behind the proscenium arch:
“Oh, th' Nebula is coming
To drown the wicked earth,
With all his spirals humming
'S he waltzes in his mirth.
Chorus
“Don't hesitate a second,
Get ready to embark,
And skip away to safety
With Cosmo and his ark.
“Th' Nebula is a direful bird
'S he skims the ether blue!
He's angry over what he's heard,
'N's got his eye on you.
Chorus
“Don't hesitate a second, etc.
“When Nebulas begin to pipe
The bloomin' O.H.[subscript]2
Y'bet yer life the time is ripe
To think what you will do.
Chorus
“Don't hesitate a second, etc.
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“He'll tip th' Atlantic o'er its brim,
And swamp the mountains tall;
He'll let the broad Pacific in,
And leave no land at all.
Chorus
“Don't hesitate a second, etc.
“He's got an option on the spheres;
He's leased the Milky Way;
He's caught the planets in arrears,
'N's bound to make 'em pay.
Chorus
“Don't hesitate a second, etc.”
The roars of laughter and applause with which this effusion of vaudeville genius was greeted, showed the
cheerful spirit in which the public took the affair. No harm seemed to have come to the “ignorant masses”
yet.
But the next morning there was a suspicious change in the popular mind. People were surprised to see
new posters in place of the old ones, more lurid in letters and language than the original. The morning
papers had columns of description and comment, and some of them seemed disposed to treat the
prophet and his prediction with a certain degree of seriousness.
The savants who had been interviewed overnight, did not talk very convincingly, and made the mistake
of flinging contempt on both Cosmo and “the gullible public.”
Naturally, the public wouldn't stand for that, and the pendulum of opinion began to swing the other way.
Cosmo helped his cause by sending to every newspaper a carefully prepared statement of his
observations and calculations, in which he spoke with such force of conviction that few could read his
words without feeling a thrill of apprehensive uncertainty. This was strengthened by published dispatches
which showed that he had forwarded his warnings to all the well-known scientific bodies of the world,
which, while decrying them, made no effective response.
And then came a note of positive alarm in a double-leaded bulletin from the new observatory at Mount
McKinley, which affirmed that during the preceding nighta singular obscurityhad been suspected in the
northern sky, seeming to veil many stars below the twelfth magnitude. It was added that the phenomenon
was unprecedented, but that the observation was both difficult and uncertain.
Nowhere was the atmosphere of doubt and mystery, which now began to hang over the public, so
remarkable as in Wall Street. The sensitive currents there responded like electric waves to the new
influence, and, to the dismay of hard-headed observers, the market dropped as if it had been hit with a
sledge-hammer. Stocks went down five, ten, in some cases twenty points in as many minutes.
The speculative issues slid down like wheat into a bin when the chutes are opened. Nobody could trace
the exact origin of the movement, but selling-orders came tumbling in until there was a veritable panic.
From London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, St. Petersburg, flashed dispatches announcing that the same
unreasonable slump had manifested itself there, and all united in holding Cosmo Versal solely responsible
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for the foolish break in prices. Leaders of finance rushed to the exchanges trying by arguments and
expostulations to arrest the downfall, but in vain.
In the afternoon, however, reason partially resumed its sway; then a quick recovery was felt, and many
who had rushed to sell all they had, found cause to regret their precipitancy. The next day all was on the
mend, as far as the stock market was concerned, but among the people at large the poison of awakened
credulity continued to spread, nourished by fresh announcements from the fountain head.
Cosmo issued another statement to the effect that he had perfected plans for an ark of safety, which he
would begin at once to construct in the neighborhood of New York, and he not only offered freely to
give his plans to any who wished to commence construction on their own account, but he urged them, in
the name of Heaven, to lose no time. This produced a prodigious effect, and multitudes began to be
infected with a nameless fear.
Meanwhile an extraordinary scene occurred, behind closed doors, at the headquarters of the Carnegie
Institution in Washington. Joseph Smith, acting under Cosmo Versal's direction, had forwarded an
elaborateprecisof the latter's argument, accompanied with full mathematical details, to the head of the
institution. The character of this document was such that it could not be ignored. Moreover, the savants
composing the council of the most important scientific association in the world were aware of the state of
the public mind, and felt that it was incumbent upon them to do something to allay the alarm. Of late years
a sort of supervisory control over scientific news of all kinds had been accorded to them, and they
appreciated the fact that a duty now rested upon their shoulders.
Accordingly, a special meeting was called to consider the communication from Cosmo Versal. It was the
general belief that a little critical examination would result in complete proof of the fallacy of all his work,
proof which could be put in a form that the most uninstructed would understand.
But the papers, diagrams, and mathematical formulae had no sooner been spread upon the table under
the knowing eyes of the learned members of the council, than a chill of conscious impuissance ran through
them. They saw that Cosmo's mathematics were unimpeachable. His formulae were accurately deduced,
and his operations absolutely correct.
They could do nothing but attack his fundamental data, based on the alleged revelations of his new form
of spectroscope, and on telescopic observations which were described in so much detail that the only
way to combat them was by the general assertion that they were illusory. This was felt to be a very
unsatisfactory method of procedure, as far as the public was concerned, because it amounted to no more
than attacking the credibility of a witness who pretended to describe only what he himself had seen—and
there is nothing so hard as to prove a negative.
Then, Cosmo had on his side the whole force of that curious tendency of the human mind which
habitually gravitates toward whatever is extraordinary, revolutionary, and mysterious.
But a yet greater difficulty arose. Mention has been made of the strange bulletin from the Mount
McKinley observatory. That had been incautiously sent out to the public by a thoughtless observer, who
was more intent upon describing a singular phenomenon than upon considering its possible effect on the
popular imagination. He had immediately received an expostulatory dispatch from headquarters which
henceforth shut his mouth—but he had told the simple truth, and how embarrassing that was became
evident when, on the very table around which the savants were now assembled, three dispatches were
laid in quick succession from the great observatories of Mount Hekla, Iceland, the North Cape, and
Kamchatka, all corroborating the statement of the Mount McKinley observer, that an inexplicable veiling
of faint stars had manifested itself in the boreal quarter of the sky.
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TheSecondDelugeGarrettP.ServissThispagecopyright©2003BlackmaskOnline.http://www.blackmask.comCHAPTERI.COSMOVERSALCHAPTERII.MOCKINGATFATECHAPTERIII.THEFIRSTDROPSOFTHEDELUGECHAPTERIV.THEWORLDSWEPTWITHTERRORCHAPTERV.THETHIRDSIGNCHAPTERVI.SELECTINGTHEFLOWEROFMANKINDCHAPTERVII.THEWATERSBEGINTORISECHAPTER...

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分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：160 页 大小：595.85KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-23

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