At the Earth's Core

by Edgar Rice Burroughs
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there in the desert now--about two miles from here. Tomorrow you
may care to ride out and see it. Roughly, it is a steel cylinder
a hundred feet long, and jointed so that it may turn and twist
through solid rock if need be. At one end is a mighty revolving
drill operated by an engine which Perry said generated more power
to the cubic inch than any other engine did to the cubic foot. I
remember that he used to claim that that invention alone would
make us fabulously wealthy--we were going to make the whole thing
public after the successful issue of our first secret trial--but
Perry never returned from that trial trip, and I only after ten
years.

I recall as it were but yesterday the night of that momentous
occasion upon which we were to test the practicality of that
wondrous invention. It was near midnight when we repaired to the
lofty tower in which Perry had constructed his "iron mole" as he
was wont to call the thing. The great nose rested upon the bare
earth of the floor. We passed through the doors into the outer
jacket, secured them, and then passing on into the cabin, which
contained the controlling mechanism within the inner tube, switched
on the electric lights.

Perry looked to his generator; to the great tanks that held the
life-giving chemicals with which he was to manufacture fresh air
to replace that which we consumed in breathing; to his instruments
for recording temperatures, speed, distance, and for examining the
materials through which we were to pass.

He tested the steering device, and overlooked the mighty cogs which
transmitted its marvelous velocity to the giant drill at the nose
of his strange craft.

Our seats, into which we strapped ourselves, were so arranged upon
transverse bars that we would be upright whether the craft were
ploughing her way downward into the bowels of the earth, or running
horizontally along some great seam of coal, or rising vertically
toward the surface again.

At length all was ready. Perry bowed his head in prayer. For
a moment we were silent, and then the old man's hand grasped the
starting lever. There was a frightful roaring beneath us--the
giant frame trembled and vibrated--there was a rush of sound as the
loose earth passed up through the hollow space between the inner
and outer jackets to be deposited in our wake. We were off!

The noise was deafening. The sensation was frightful. For a full
minute neither of us could do aught but cling with the proverbial
desperation of the drowning man to the handrails of our swinging
seats. Then Perry glanced at the thermometer.

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