Steampunk Prime_ A Vintage Steampunk Reader - Mike Ashley [39]
“That is what I mean,” he said. “Of course, I needn’t go into detail with you. There is the earth as I believe it to be today, with certain exceptions which you will readily see.
“The exterior crust has cooled. Inside that there is probably a semi-fluid sphere, and inside that again, possibly, the rigid body, the core of the earth. But I don’t believe that that hole has been filled, simply because it must have been there to begin with. Granted also that the pull of gravitation is towards the centre, still, if there is a void from Pole to Pole, as I hold there must be, as a natural consequence of the centrifugal force generated by the earth’s revolution, the mass of the earth would pull equally in all directions away from that void.”
“I think I see,” said Princeps, upon whom the astounding possibilities of this simple demonstration had been slowly breaking. “I see. Granted a passage like that from Pole to Pole — call it a tunnel — a body falling into it at one end would be drawn towards the centre. It would pass it at a tremendous velocity and be carried towards the other end; but as the attraction of the mass of the earth would be equal on all sides of it, it would take a perfectly direct course — I mean, it wouldn’t smash itself to bits against the sides of the tunnel.
“The only difficulty that I see is that, suppose that the body were dropped into the tunnel at the North Pole, it wouldn’t quite reach the South Pole. It would stop and turn back, and so it would oscillate like a pendulum with an ever-decreasing swing — until it finally came to rest in the middle of the tunnel — -or, in other words, the centre of the earth.”
“Exactly,” said the Professor. “But would it not be possible for means to be taken to propel the projectile beyond the attraction from the centre if those means were employed at the moment when the momentum of the body was being counteracted by the return pull towards the centre?”
“Perfectly feasible,” said Princeps, “provided always that there were reasonable beings in the said projectile. Well, Professor, I think I understand you now. You believe that there is this tunnel, as we may call it, running through the earth from Pole to Pole, and you want to get to one of the Poles and make a journey through it.
“It’s a gorgeous idea, I must confess. You’ve only got to tell me that you really think it possible, and I’m with you. If you like to undertake the details, you can draw on me up to a hundred thousand; and when you’re ready, I’ll go with you. Which Pole do you propose to start from?”
“The North Pole,” said the Professor, quietly, as though he were uttering the merest commonplace, “although still undiscovered, is getting a little bit hackneyed. I propose that we shall start from the South Pole. It is very good of you to be so generous in the way of finances. Of course, you understand that you cannot hope for any monetary return, and it is also quite possible that we may both lose our lives.”
“People who stick at small things never do great ones,” replied Princeps. “As for the money, it doesn’t matter. I have too much — more than anyone ought to have. Besides, we might find oceans of half-molten gold inside — who knows? Anyhow, when you’re ready to start, I am.”
II
Nearly two months after this conversation had taken place, something else happened. The Professor’s niece, the only blood-relation he had in the world, came back from Heidelburg with her degree of Doctor of Philosophy. She was “a daughter of the Gods, divinely tall and most divinely fair,” as became one in whose veins ran both the Norse and the Anglo-Saxon blood. Certain former experiences had led Princeps to the opinion that she liked him exceedingly for himself, and disliked him almost as much for his money — a fact which somehow made the possession of millions seem very unprofitable in his eyes.
Brenda Haffkin happened to get back to London the day