The Map of the Sky by Félix J. Palma Page B

return in 1295 and Columbus’s departure in 1492, dozens of explorers had made important discoveries, and yet their names had been virtually forgotten, eclipsed by the discovery of the Americas. And what was worse, almost none of those brave adventurers had obtained more than a pittance and a lifetime of fevers. Who remembered Brother Oderico da Pordenone, for example, who fought his way into deepest China through India and Malaysia? Or the Arab Ibn Battuta, who explored Central Asia and North Africa? Not even the renowned Christopher Columbus had played his cards right. He managedto convince the royal court that the Earth was much smaller than the ancient Greek Eratosthenes’ calculations had suggested, and that he, Columbus, would discover a sea route to the East Indies that would assure a flourishing spice trade—although what most impressed Reynolds were the advantageous terms he had negotiated for himself. Unfortunately, in the wake of his fabulous success, he acquired some powerful enemies, who were quick to denounce his mistreatment of the native populations. In the end, the deplorable way he governed his viceroyalty had gradually meant the loss of his prestige and power. Yes, the profession of discoverer was clearly fraught with dangers, and not merely the ones lurking in the jungle undergrowth.
    Reynolds was confident he could manage things better, if the occasion ever presented itself. After all, he was a seasoned newspaperman, and he had political contacts and a nose for business. True, his knowledge of geography and navigation was limited, but most frustratingly of all there was no territory left for him to discover. And so, he had little choice but to wait patiently and hope for some miracle that would rescue him from mediocrity. And if not, then he could always marry Josephine. Whilst this was no heroic feat that would guarantee him a place in the history books, it would at least fill his pockets. Although as things stood, Reynolds was not even sure he could still count on that, for the girl seemed more and more immune to his very limited charms. In short, such were the anxieties eating away at the explorer as he walked past the lecture hall and heard those loud guffaws. Therefore it was no surprise that he flung open the door: Reynolds needed to laugh at someone else in order not to feel like a joke himself.
    Yet as soon as he walked in, he discovered with amazement that the man onstage who was producing all that mirth was no comedian at all. On the contrary, the ex–army captain John Cleves Symmes Jr. appeared very serious about his subject, which, incredible as it sounded, was that the Earth was like a gigantic hollow shell. In fact, it was like an egg, in which shell, white, and yolk were quite separate. It was possible to enter this shell through two immense holes, one at each pole, and at its corefour equally hollow spheres floated in a kind of gelatinous fluid that was responsible for gravity. But what most astonished Reynolds was that it was deep inside the Earth that the miracle of life had occurred. Symmes claimed that underneath them, a second warmer and more diverse world existed, where plants, animals, and possibly even human life thrived. Predictably, this comment unleashed more peals of laughter from the audience, and Reynolds, who had taken a seat in the back row, joined in heartily.
    Symmes tried to silence the guffaws by explaining that his ideas had their origin in the writings of some of the most celebrated scholars of the past. He cited Edmond Halley, who had also envisaged the Earth’s interior as teeming with life and illuminated by an iridescent gas that occasionally seeped through the fine crust at its poles, coloring our night skies with the aurora borealis. He mentioned many more besides, whose extravagant theories only made the audience laugh even louder, including Reynolds, who chortled in his seat as though possessed, exorcising his life’s frustrations. Meanwhile, Symmes went