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Gratacap, L. P.

"The Certainty of a Future Life in Mars"

What are we made of? Is this new body we carry
insensible to heat or cold? I feel indeed my pulse beat. I am conscious
of warmth in the sun, and of coolness in the shade. I feel the wind blow
on my cheeks, but all these sensations are so much less keen than on the
earth, and yet again I realize that sensations are in some ways as vivid
as on the earth. The pleasure of my ears and eyes is wonderfully deep
and exhaustive, the sense of taste rapid and delightful. I am happy,
supremely happy, and affection, even the hidden fires of love, burn in
my veins as on the earth.' Chapman looked at me with that bright smile
he wore on earth, and his gestures of expostulation were amusing. 'Wait,
Dodd, don't talk so fast. You remember I had a slow way on the earth. I
have no reason to think it will prove any less pleasant to stay slow on
Mars. One thing at a time. My own sense of position is not so secure
that I can tell exactly all you want to know, and there are a good many
things that the heavyweights up here don't pretend yet to explain. Now,
where are we? Well, the City of Light is about 40 degrees south of the
Martian equator, not so far from what on earth would be the position of
Christ Church, where you "shuffled off the mortal coil." Don't frown.
Mars is a serene, sweet place, but I am not yet so intimidated by the
lofty life here as to drop my jokes. Some Martians strike me as a trifle
heavy in style, just a suggestion of a kind of sublimated Bostonese
about them, don't you know.


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