When Worlds Collide (When Worlds Collide 1)

“Exactly, although the side firing is of lesser intensity. We have twenty stern vents and twenty forward, you see, and twelve around the circumference at each end.” Hendron smiled. “It is very beautiful, our ship; and according to the laws of physics, by the release of more power, it will navigate space as surely as it hopped from the ground, when we required it to. We’ll leave this world, Tony; and, I believe, we’ll land upon Bronson Beta.”

Tony stared at him: “And we’ll live?”

“Why not, Tony? I can control the landing as I can control the leaving.”

“I meant,” said Tony, “granting that—granting we travel through space and reach that other planet and land upon it safely, will we live afterward?”

“Why not?” Hendron returned again. “We can count upon vegetation on Bronson Beta almost surely. No, surely, I should say. Higher forms of life must have been annihilated by the cold; but the spores of vegetation could survive.

“Arrhenius, the great Swedish physicist, demonstrated years ago that the germinating of spores may be preserved rather than killed by intense cold. He cited, indeed, microörganisms that had been kept in liquid air, at a temperature of some two hundred degrees below zero, Centigrade, for many months without being deprived of their germinating power.

“We know too little about the lower temperatures; but what we have discovered indicates that the germinating power of microorganisms and spores should be preserved at lower temperatures for much longer periods than at our ordinary temperatures.

“Arrhenius made calculations on a cold of only minus 220 Centigrade, which is much warmer than the almost ‘absolute cold’ in which all organisms on Bronson Beta have been preserved.”

Hendron referred to a notebook: “‘The loss of germinating power,’ Arrhenius observed, ‘is no doubt due to some chemical process, and all chemical processes proceed at slower rates at lower temperatures than they do at higher. The vital functions are intensified in the ratio of 1:2.5 when the temperature is raised by ten degrees Centigrade.’

“So in the case of spores at a distance from the sun of the orbit of Neptune, after their temperature had been lowered to minus 220, their vital energy would, according to this ratio, react with one thousand millions less intensity than at ten plus. Arrhenius figured that the germinating power of spores would not deteriorate in three million years at minus 220 more than it would in one day at an ordinary earthly temperature. It is not unreasonable, therefore, to believe that at the much lower temperatures which must have prevailed on Bronson Beta, spores and microorganisms could have been preserved indefinitely.

“These, now, have been thawed, and are being revived by the sun; so I feel we can count at least upon vegetation upon Bronson Beta.”

“At least!” Tony caught up his words. “You will not deny, then, that there may be a possibility of higher life surviving or capable of being revived—too?”

Hendron shook his head. “I have seen too many incredible things occur, Tony,” he replied, “to deny any possibility—particularly under conditions of which no one on this world has had any experience. But I do not expect it. I do expect vegetation, especially vegetation that grows from spores.

“In the early days on this world, the great majority of plants did not reproduce by seeds, but by the far more resistant spores, which have survived as the method of reproduction of many varieties. So we will count upon a native flora which, undoubtedly, will appear very strange to us. Of course, as you know, we are taking across with us our own seeds and our own spores.”

“I know,” said Tony, “and even our own insects too.”

“An amazing list—isn’t it, Tony?—our necessities for existence. We take so much for granted, don’t we? You do not realize what has been supplied you by nature on this world of ours—until you come to count up what you must take along with you, if you hope to survive.”

“Yes,” said Tony, “ants and angleworms—and mayflies.”

“Exactly. You’ve been talking with Keppler, I see. I put that problem entirely up to Keppler.

“Our first and most necessary unit for self-preservation proved to be the common honey bee, to secure pollination of flowering plants, trees and so on. Keppler says that of some twenty thousand nectar insects, this one species pollinates more than all the rest put together. The honey bee would take care of practically of this work, as his range is tremendous. There are a few plants—Keppler tells me—such as red clover, which he cannot work on; but his cousin the bumblebee, with his longer proboscis, could attend to them. So, first and foremost among living things, we bring bees.

“We also take ants, especially the common little brown variety, to ventilate, drain and work the soil; and, as you have observed, angleworms also.

“Since we are going to take with us fish eggs to hatch into fish over there, we have to take mayflies. Their larvæ, in addition to providing food for the fish, are necessary to keep the inland waters from becoming choked with algæ and the lower water plants.

“In the whole of the Lepidoptera there is not, Keppler says, one necessary or even useful species; but for sheer beauty’s sake—and because they take small space—we will take six butterflies and at least the Luna moth.

“And we must take one of the reputed scourges of the earth.”

“What?” said Tony.

“The grasshopper—the locust. Such an insect will be vitally necessary to keep the greenery from choking our new earth; and the one best suited for this job is, paradoxically enough, one of mankind’s oldest scourges, the grasshopper. He is an omnivorous feeder and would keep the greenery in check—after he got his start. Our first problem may be that he will not multiply fast enough; and then that he multiply too fast. So to keep him in check, and also the butterfly and the moth, we will take parasitic flies. We will have to have these—two or three of the dozen common Tachinidæ have been chosen.

“These will be the essential insects. Here on earth, with a balanced and bewilderingly intricate economy already established, a tremendously longer list would be vital to provide the proper checks and balances; but starting anew, on Bronson Beta, we can begin, at least, with the few insects we have chosen. Unquestionably, differentiation and evolution will swiftly set in, and they will find new forms.

“We are bringing along vials of mushroom and other fungi spores. Otherwise vegetation would fall down, never disintegrate, and pile up till everything was choked. A vial the size of your thumb holds several billion spores of assorted fungi—in case the spores of the fungi of Bronson Beta have not survived. They are absolutely essential.

“Also, besides our own water supply for the voyage, we are taking bottles of stagnant pond-water and another of sea-water contai

ning our microörganisms such as diatoms, plankton, unicellular plants and animals which form the basis for our biotic economy and would supplement, or replace, such life on the other globe.

“About animals—” He halted.