“It came at the time you predicted. Just a moment — yes, there is snow with it. I had not noticed. I see no dust as yet, however.”
“It will come. That volcano must have fed ten cubic miles of it into the air, and it’s been spreading for days.” Barlennan made no direct reply to this. The volcano in question was still a point of contention between them, since it was located in a part of Mesklin which, according to Barlennan’s geographical background, did not exist. “What I really wondered about, Charles, was how long this blow was going to last. I understand your people can see it from above, and should know how big it is.”
“Are you in trouble already? The winter’s just starting — you have thousands of days before you can get out of here.”
“I realize that. We have plenty of food, as far as quantity goes. However, we’d like something fresh occasionally, and it would be nice to know in advance when we can send out a hunting party or two.”
“I see. I’m afraid it will take some rather careful timing. I was not here last winter, but I understand that during that season the storms in this area are practically continuous. Have you ever been actually to the equator before?”
“To the what?”
“To the — I guess it’s what you mean when you talk of the Rim.”
“No, I have never been this close, and don’t see how anyone could get much closer. It seems to me that if we went much farther out to sea we’d lose every last bit of our weight and go flying off into nowhere.”
“If it’s any comfort to you, you are wrong. If you kept going, your weight would start up again. You are on the equator right now — the place where weight is least. That is why I am here. I begin to see why you don’t want to believe there is land very much farther north. I thought it might be language trouble when we talked of it before. Perhaps you have time enough to describe to me now your ideas concerning the nature of the world? Or perhaps you have maps?”
“We have a Bowl here on the poop raft, of course. I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to see it now, since the sun has just set and Esstes doesn’t give light enough to help through these clouds. When the sun rises I’ll show it to you. My flat maps wouldn’t be much good, since none of them covers enough territory to give a really good picture.”
“Good enough. While we’re waiting for sunrise could you give me some sort of verbal idea, though?”
“I’m not sure I know your language well enough yet, but I’ll try. “I was taught in school that Mesklin is a big, hollow bowl. The part where most people live is near the bottom, where there is decent weight. The philosophers have an idea that weight is caused by the pull of a big, flat plate that Mesklin is sitting on; the farther out we go toward the Rim, the less we weigh, since we’re farther from the plate. What the plate is sitting on no one knows; you hear a lot of queer beliefs on that subject from some of the less civilized races.”
“I should think if your philosophers were right you’d be climbing uphill whenever you traveled away from the center, and all the oceans would run to the lowest point,” interjected Lackland. “Have you ever asked one of your philosophers that?”
“When I was a youngster I saw a picture of the whole thing. The teacher’s diagram showed a lot of lines coming up from the plate and bending in to meet right over the middle of Mesklin. They came through the bowl straight rather than slantwise because of the curve; and the teacher said weight operated along the lines instead of straight down toward the plate,” returned the commander. “I didn’t understand it fully, but it seemed to work. They said the theory was proved because the surveyed distances on maps agreed with what they ought to be according to the theory. That I can understand, and it seems a good point. If the shape weren’t what they thought it was, the distances would certainly go haywire before you got very far from your standard point.”
“Quite right. I see your philosophers are quite well into geometry. What I don’t see is why they haven’t realized that there are two shapes that would make the distances come out right. After all, can’t you see that the surface of Mesklin curves downward? If your theory were true, the horizon would seem to be above you. How about that?”
“Oh, it is. That’s why even the most primitive tribes know the world is bowl-shaped. It’s just out here near the Rim that it looks different. I expect it’s something to do with the light. After all, the sun rises and sets here even in summer, and it wouldn’t be surprising if things looked a little queer. Why, it even looks as though the — horizon, you called it? — was closer to north and south than it is east and west. You can see a ship much farther away to the east or west. It’s the light.”
“Hmm. I find your point a little difficult to answer at the moment.” Barlennan was not sufficiently familiar with the Flyer’s speech to detect such a thing as a note of amusement in his voice. “I have never been on the surface far from the — er — Rim — and never can be, personally. I didn’t realize that things looked as you describe, and I can’t see why they should, at the moment. I hope to see it when you take that radio-vision set on our little errand.”
“I shall be delighted to hear your explanation of why our philosophers are wrong,” Barlennan answered politely. “When you are prepared to give it, of course. In the meantime, I am still somewhat curious as to whether you might be able to tell me when there will be a break in this storm.”
“It will take a few minutes to get a report from the station on Toorey. Suppose I call you back about sunrise. I can give you the weather forecast, and there’ll be light enough for you to show me your Bowl. All right?”
“That will be excellent. I will wait.” Barlennan crouched where he was beside the radio while the storm shrieked on around him. The pellets of methane that splattered against his armored back failed to bother him — they hit a lot harder in the high latitudes. Occasionally he stirred to push away the fine drift of ammonia that kept accumulating on the raft, but even that was only a minor annoyance — at least, so far. Toward midwinter, in five or six thousand days, the stuff would be melting in full sunlight, and rather shortly thereafter would be freezing again. The main idea was to get the liquid away from the vessel or vice versa before the second freeze, or Barlennan’s crew would be chipping a couple of hundred rafts clear of the beach. The Bree was no river boat, but a full-sized oceangoing ship. It took the Flyer only the promised few minutes to get the required information, and his voice sounded once more from the tiny speaker as the clouds over the bay lightened with the rising sun. “I’m afraid I was right, Barl. There is no letup in sight. Practically the whole northern hemisphere — which doesn’t mean a thing to you — is boiling off its icecap. I understand the storms in general last all winter. The fact that they come separately in the higher southern latitudes is because they get broken up into very small cells by Coriolis deflection as they get away from the equator.”
“By what?”
“By the same force that makes any projectile you throw swerve so noticeably to the left — at least, while I’ve never seen it under your conditions, it would practically have to on this planet.”
“What is ‘throw’?”
“My gosh, we haven’t used that word, have we? Well, I’ve seen you jump — no, by gosh, I haven’t either! — when you were up visiting at my shelter. Do you remember that word?”
“No.”
“Well, ‘throw’ is when you take some other object — pick it up — and push it hard away from you so that it travels some distance before striking the ground!”