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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2392b52 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68280 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68280) diff --git a/old/68280-0.txt b/old/68280-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 4df1ded..0000000 --- a/old/68280-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1714 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Latent Image, by Wesley Long - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Latent Image - -Author: Wesley Long - -Release Date: June 10, 2022 [eBook #68280] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LATENT IMAGE *** - - - - - - "Latent Image" - - by WESLEY LONG - - Illustrated by Orban - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Astounding Science-Fiction, May 1944. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -John McBride stood on the roof garden of Satan's Hotel, looking across -the River Styx at Sharon. To his left, the River Styx emptied into the -Sulphur Sea, and in the evening sky to his right, the dancing flames -lighted the cloud banks over Mephisto, where the uranium smelters -worked on a nonstop plan. - -John McBride was in Hell. - -But Hell is a city on Pluto, where the planners had a free hand -because no intelligent life had ever scarred the planet until man came -with his machinery and his luxury and his seeking for metal. Uranium -had been found in plenty on Pluto, and so man had created a livable -planet from the coldest, most forbidding planet in the System. - -John McBride was in Hell, on Pluto, but his mind was dwelling in a -little cube that rotated about a mythical spot halfway between Sol -and Pluto; one of the many stations that created the space warp that -focused Sol on Pluto with an angle of incidence equal to the incidence -of Sol on Terra. Enid McBride was back there in that minute station, -and John McBride wanted to be with her. - -But Dr. Caldwell, the resident doctor of the Plutonian Lens, said: -"John, if you've got to go to Pluto, that's O.K. But you can't take -Enid with you. That's strictly out, with a capital 'O,' get me?" - -"I suppose--" - -"I've been doctoring for many years, John. It's safe for you to run -off for a week or so, but don't move Enid. Your kid won't be born for -a month, yet, but if you subject her to the 4- or 5-G you need to get -from here to Pluto, you'll have--not only the baby, but as nasty a mess -as you've ever seen! Take it from me, fella, 4-G is worse than a fall -if you keep it up for hours. No dice!" - -"O.K.," said John, unhappily. "She'll be all right?" - -"Sure," said Caldwell. "Besides, all you can do now is to sit around, -bite your fingernails, and ask foolish questions. If I had my way, -you'd be away when the youngster is born, that'd save you from a lot of -useless worry." - -"That isn't fair." - -"I know you feel that way. Enid does too. But it is still sort of -futile. You want the right to worry; go ahead and worry. After all, -there are enough people around the Lens that know you are worrying. -She'll be all right, I tell you!" - -"You'll let me know if anything turns up?" - -"That's a promise, John." - -So John McBride was standing on a roof garden in Hell, thinking how -appropriate it was. He was in Hell, all right. Hell was a nice place -to be, warm, pleasant, and happily balanced. But it was no place to -be when your wife is nineteen hundred million miles away. Ah, well, -another week of this and he would be racing homeward. - -Home! That was funny, to consider home, a place in space where gravity -was furnished by an mechanogravitic warp, and where there were no -windows to open, and where you lived in a cube of steel three thousand -feet on a side, mostly filled with the items required for living plus -the maze of equipment required to maintain the great lens that gave -Pluto its sun. - -Home! It was a far cry from his boyhood home on Venus, where the -greenery of the forest fought with the very walls. But home is where -you like it, and McBride liked it. - -He wished that he were there, for he felt that Enid needed him. - -Then with that perversity of nature that people call fate, a bellhop -approached him and handed him a spacegram. McBride tipped the boy and -opened the envelope easily. He'd been getting 'grams by round numbers -for several years, and this was no novelty. He was not aware of its -importance until he opened the folded page and read: - - JOHN MC BRIDE - SATAN'S HOTEL - HELL, PLUTO - - HIT SKY FOR HOME. ENID IN NO GREAT DANGER FROM FALL, BUT HER - RECOVERY WILL BE ASSISTED BY YOUR PRESENCE. - - CALDWELL. - -McBride read the words twice, and then looked around himself, wildly. -_Hit Sky_ was easy to say--but at 6-G it would take just over one -hundred hours to make the passage. Four days minimum! - -McBride raced to the elevator, chewed his fingernails while the car -rode him down the hundred and seven floors with that snail's pace -caused by many stops. He shot out of the elevator door, caromed off the -opposite wall into an ash tray which he upset and sent a small cascade -of sand across the floor. McBride coasted to a stop before the hotel -manager's desk and tossed the 'gram in front of him. The manager read -and looked up in sympathy. - -McBride said: "Get me a reservation on the next sunward-bound ship. -Emergency stop; they'll make the stopoff with an emergency." - -"Right." The manager spoke into the phone and then said: "And you'll be -checking out?" - -"Yes. Have one of the boys collect my stuff and ship it out to Station -1." - -"O.K., McBride, we'll see that your stuff is taken care of. Ben!" he -called out through the door, "hurry up on that reservation, and see -that a car is ready to take Mr. McBride to Hellsport." - -"T'won't be necessary," said Ben with a glum face. "The _Uranium -Lady_ just took off fifteen minutes ago, and there isn't another ship -scheduled out of Hellsport for five days." - -"Five days!" groaned McBride. "Anything flyable on this planet?" - -"Nothing that would take a run to the Lens," said Ben. - -"Sure?" - -"Almost positive. However, I'll put a request on the radio that may -smoke out an unknown." - -"I'll buy the thing if they won't let me go any other way," said -McBride. - -"We understand," said the hotel manager. - -McBride stamped up and down the hotel lobby for an hour. His luggage -came down, all collected and prepared. He called Caldwell, and spoke to -him for an hour, but Dr. Caldwell's protestations didn't help McBride. -Enid had fallen from a chair while cleaning out a shelf, and was -resting easily, no complications. Yes, there was some pain, enough to -make Enid want her husband near. No danger, no, but it would be best if -he were there. - -But McBride was still one hundred hours and nineteen hundred million -miles away. - -John McBride didn't see the messenger boy bringing the message until -he almost bumped into him. "Mr. McBride, here's your answer," said the -lad, and he saw McBride rip the envelope open with a quick gesture to -read the following: - - MC BRIDE: - - EXPERIMENTAL SPACESHIP _HAYWIRE QUEEN_ AT YOUR COMMAND IF YOU CAN - REPAIR ALPHATRON. MEET ME AT HELLSPORT. - - STEVE HAMMOND (SKYWAYS) - -McBride said to the messenger: "It's grabbing at straws, but get me a -cab and I'll take a whirl at it." - -"Think you can do it?" asked the lad. - -"Don't know. I'm desperate. After all, it's a wild chance because if -Steve Hammond and his gang haven't been able to repair it, how can I -expect to?" - -"Give it a whirl anyway, sir," said the lad. - -"That I'll do," said McBride. "And now that cab!" - - * * * * * - -The _Haywire Queen_ stood above McBride as he met Steve Hammond. -"What's your trouble, John?" asked Hammond. - -McBride explained. Then he asked: "What's yours?" - -Hammond smiled wryly. "That's a long, sad tale. We've been trying to -increase the efficiency of the drive, you know. We've been hunting up -and down the electrogravitic spectrum for a more efficient operating -point. We found what we knew already; that we were using the most -efficient part of the E-grav range. We went all the way from down -low, where the stuff is just beginning to make itself detectable -to up high where the equipment is slightly fragile and extremely -experimental in construction. Then we took a run at the mec-grav, -with absolutely no success other than to ruin a whole bank of relays; -the mechanogravitic warp extended farther than we anticipated when we -hit the mechanogravitic resonance of the drive bar, and hell sort of -flew all over in great hunks. One of the interesting items was the -closing of the E-grav field controls, and the resulting power drain -over-loaded the alphatron. We limped in using a jury-rigged line from -the lifeship's alphatron and made a something-slightly-less than a -crash landing here on Pluto. - -"So now we're either stuck here until we get the new alphatron we -ordered, or you can give us a few hints on household repairs." - -"What's your lifeship's output?" asked McBride, following Hammond into -the spacelock. - -"About eleven hundred alphons." - -"You'll need about fourteen hundred to take off from Pluto," said John. -"How's the big one?" - -"Deader than the proverbial dodo, whatever that was." - -"Dodo?" laughed McBride. "That was a mythical critter that went around -dead, I think. It was so dead, even when alive, that when it really -died, it was really dead." - -"You'd better stick to alphatrons," laughed Hammond. - -"Speaking of the equipment, have you tried to get a replacement on -Pluto?" - -"Nothing didding. About our only chance is to haywire something -together. But remember, we still have to make a landing, somewhere, -and that means a safety factor is somewhat to be desired." - -"Not at all. If we can take off safely, we're in!" - -"Explain. As I was taught in school, anyone can fly a spaceship, but it -takes a pilot to land one." - -"Sure, but remember you'll be stopping off at the Lens. We've got -replacements there that will enable you to make space repairs and go on -from there in safety." - -"Didn't think of that. Well, here's the mess!" - -McBride needed no close inspection to see that the alphatron was -definitely defunct. A foul smell, faint, ephemerally pungent, -permeated the room. It was the smell of burned synthetic coil dope and -field-winding varnish which has been described as smelling something -like a frying toupee. - -"Not only dead," was his cryptic remark, "but dead and sutteed!" - -"Fricasseed," corrected Hammond. "Anything we can do?" - -"Is the winding intact?" - -"We thought of that, too. Nope. Electrical inspection indicates that -the winding is melted together in several places. You couldn't unwind -the coil, let alone rewind it with fresh insulation. We've got a couple -of gallons of insulation handy, if you get a good idea." - -"Not yet. But look, Hammond, have you tried the magnetogravitic -spectrum yet?" - -"No. That was our next program." - -"I'd have tried that first," mused McBride. "Knowing that the drive -depends upon the action of a cupralum bar under high magnetic -density plus an electrogravitic warp, I should think that the close -relationship between the magnetic and electronic phenomena would lead -you to try the mag-grav first." - -"I didn't want to start at the top," said Hammond dryly. "In spite of -the fact that Dr. Ellson claimed to have discovered a region in the -mag-grav spectrum that produced a faint success." - -"Well, what I'm thinking is that we can rip up the E-grav generator and -use the field coil for the alphatron. It'll carry electrons as well as -it carries alphons, you know." - -"Better," said Hammond. "But what do we use for an E-grav?" - -"First we'll hunt up through the spectrum of the magnetogravitic -spectrum. If that doesn't work, we can add the warp produced by your -mech-grav, run from the lifeship's little alphatron. Right?" - -"It's an idea. Seems to me that I've heard somewhere that the combined -warps of magneto- and mechanogravitic produces some vectors in the -electrogravitic spectrum." - -"Mind if I brag?" asked McBride. "That was in a paper I scribbled for -the Interplanetary Gravitic Engineers. Purely a matter of making a -few dimes, at the time there was nothing practical about it, since -we had E-grav generators before we discovered the mechano- and -magnetogravitics." - -"We?" grinned Hammond. "You were still three generations in the future -at the time, grandpa. But it's worth a try." - -"Never thought that my effort was going to be worth a hoot," smiled -John McBride. "Let's give it a whirl." - -"O.K. I'll call the gang." Steve Hammond stepped to the communicator -and spoke. "Jimmy, Pete, Larry! Come a-running and bring your cutting -pliers!" - - * * * * * - -From what was obviously three different parts of the ship, three voices -answered. - -Pete arrived first. "Meet John McBride of the Plutonian Lens," -introduced Hammond. "This is Pete, whose whole name is Peter Thurman, -and who is the guy who knows all about drive equipment." - -Pete grinned. "You see us hitting sky at two hundred feet per," he -said, shaking McBride's hand. - -Jimmy arrived, with Larry not far behind. "These are James Wilson and -Lawrence Timkins, respectively. Jimmy is the alphatron expert, and -Larry knows all there is to know about electrical circuits and wiring." - -"He's ribbing me about those relays," laughed Larry, while Jimmy was -saying: "Y'smell that smell? That was my pride and joy." - -"Tell me," asked McBride, "what does _he_ do?" - -"Who, Steve? Oh he's just the bird that wanted the things done that -resulted in this mess. He's primarily responsible." - -"Hm-m-m. That puts the fix on the whole thing," said McBride. "Well, -fellow, you've heard about Enid. I've got to get home. If we can fake -up something so that the _Haywire Queen_ will cut loose with a couple -of hundred feet per for long enough to get me to Station 1, I'll see -that your ruined equipment is replaced so that you can make a safe -landing. Say! How come you do not carry a spare alphatron?" - -"Why doesn't man come with two hearts?" asked Jimmy. "That's because -they're usually dependable. No one ever tried to run two brains off of -one heart--that's why one heart stands up pretty well. I can imagine -the trouble that would result if two involuntary control centers were -running the same heart--it would be something like what happened when -the mech-grav made the E-grav cut in--something would blow a fuse." - -They laughed, and then Hammond explained about the program. "Right away -quick we'll try the mech-grav along with the mag-grav. That sounds like -our best bet for something that works. Also breach the lifeship and -sabotage the little alphatron for the mech-grav. Might as well have it -down here where it's needed." In an aside to McBride, he added: "Is -this like your place? No fuses, no safety devices, no spare equipment -because some screwball is always filching something off of a bit of -standard equipment to make an experimental set-up?" - -"Anything but the running and operating gear of the Lens stations," -said McBride, "is subject to change without notice. I've even -seen a spare mech-grav generator used to counterbalance Jim Lear's -teeter-totter. Jim's dad is on Station 3 and there isn't any kid of -that size and age on Three. Did a good job, too, since Bob Lear fixed -the mech-grav density control with a switch that urged the far end of -the plank so that Jim was lifted and dropped at the right speed." - -"Sort of expensive counterbalance, wasn't it?" - -"I suppose so, but Bob said it was better than having to crank his son -up and down by hand. Besides, we have lots of power out at the Lens." -McBride paused. "Say. Do you run the _Haywire Queen_ with this crew? -Who's pilot?" - -"Hannigan. But he got hurt when the works blew up. He ran us in all -right, though any of us can take a trick at landing. But he's taking -a rest cure to soothe his nerves; they got a scrambling from too much -electricity." - -"Too bad." - -"Not so bad. Just made him jittery. He'll be all right in a week. But -we won't have to run home without a pilot. I've got one coming out in a -couple of hours. Drake. Ever heard of a pilot named Drake?" - -"Seems to me that the name is familiar," said McBride slowly. "But not -too clear, I'll know him when I see him." - -"I won't. Conducted the hiring by mail, and then gave him a call when -the need came--your need, I mean. They told me that Drake was out of -the building, but that he'd be at Hellsport as soon as they could find -him. Has a pretty good record, too, save for one thing--" - -"Steve," said one of the men, "can you give us a lift? The _Beetle's_ -alphatron is somewhat heavier than we can handle around this corner." - -"Sure. And the next time we're at Terra, have 'em fix the hoist rail, -huh?" - - * * * * * - -Wires, bunched cables, and scraps were a tangled mess on the floor. -Tools were strewn about in profusion. A box of nuts and bolts had -overturned and cascaded the small parts across the floor below the -workbench. But the work was progressing in fine shape in spite of the -seeming confusion and messiness. To someone who knew these men, it was -obvious that they knew their business and how to use their tools even -though the place was ankle deep in junk. To someone who knew them not, -the place looked like a junk shop. - -"Is this the place where the finest brains in space work out the -intricate problems?" asked a cool contralto with a cynical tone. - -McBride, who had just finished welding a small angle bracket on the -bottom of the mech-grav generator, looked up, blinked, did a double -take, and then stood up. The torch burned the air in his limp fingers, -wasting the canned gas. - -"You! Drake! _Sandra_ Drake!" - -"Is there another?" asked the saucy voice. - -"I thought that Sandy was a nickname," snapped Hammond. - -"It's Sandra," said she, "and it looks to me that your friend McBride -is always up to his ears in junk!" - -John extinguished the torch and advanced upon the picturesque red-head. -"Have you still got your license?" he asked. "After that stunt you -pulled--" - -"Your political pals took away my private license, but I'm still -registered as a pilot. This, I've been told, is an emergency, and, -therefore, I am compelled to run your junk-heap for you. I'm willing -for no other reason than the fact that my assistance to you in your -so-called time of need will be instrumental in getting my private -license back. Are you ready to go--and where?" - -"We're about ready to try," said Steve. - -"Try?" scorned Sandra. The perfect features twisted in a sneer. "Aren't -the best brains working today?" - -"Look, Pilot Drake, this is an experimental crate from way back," -snapped Hammond. "You're likely to find yourself drinking coffee out -of a relay-shield. We blew out the only alphatron this side of Jupiter -by mishap, and John and we have been trying to gain the same effect by -trusting to an experiment made several years ago but abandoned." - -"I think I'll have none of it," snorted Drake. "I'd like to see a -little more of the solar system before I die. You can get some other -fool to run your patched-up ash can." - -"Drake," said Steve Hammond, "if you do not run this crate for us--or -at least try as hard as we are trying--I'll personally see that you -are mentioned whenever skunks, lizards, and butyl mercaptan are talked -about. This is an emergency." - -"Mind telling me just what type of life-and-death run you're going -for?" asked Sandra, loftily. - -"Enid McBride is hurt and needs him," said Hammond, pointing at John. -"There's a small matter involved--a small matter of a baby's life, -possibly. If John can get there in time, his presence will give Enid -the amount of lift she needs. Get me?" - -"Baby?" sneered Sandra. "What woman in her right mind would have--" - -"Your mother," snapped Hammond, "and she made a mistake. Now will you -rectify her error and do something of value for once in your ill-used -twenty-four years?" - -"I've no choice," said Drake. "I'll do it. But--" - -"No buts. You're under suspension right now, and how you handle the -_Haywire Queen_ marks your card. Take it--or take it!" - -"Where's the pilot room?" asked Sandra in a cool tone. - -"Below--where it usually is in a ship of this type. Your orders will be -coming soon enough, I hope." - -"And our destination will probably be Station 1?" - -"Right. Will you need navigational details?" - -"I can work them out." - -Drake left, and the men put the finishing touches on the double-warp -set-up. Hammond turned the equipment on, running them at test power -while Jimmy and McBride adjusted the generators for maximum output. - -Pete inspected the myriad of little glowing lights on the informer -panel and said that the ship was working properly from dome to foot. - -"Grab a rolling chair," said Hammond to McBride. Then he snapped the -communicator and said: "Drake. Up at twenty feet per." - -"Up at twenty feet per second per second acceleration," responded -Sandra in that flat, personless voice. - -"We hope," said Steve with a short laugh. - - * * * * * - -An alarm gong sounded through the open communicator, and directly -afterward, the men in the power room could hear the relays closing. In -the room above them, an oil switch closed with a crashing sound, its -racket hardly muffled by the steel-grating floor. A rheostat whirred -as it followed the impulses sent from the control board in the pilot's -room; it whisked over a dozen contacts and came to rest. Four big pilot -lights winked into brilliance above the informer panel, indicating -that the ship was, 1.: Air-tight; 2.: Properly air-conditioned; 3.: -Possessed of sufficient power for flight; and 4.: Ready to lift. Behind -a two-foot dial, a diffused light glowed, illuminating the face which -would indicate the acceleration in feet per second. A small dynamotor -whined up the scale and into the region of inaudibility, and a series -of safe lights went on; lights that would be on all the time regardless -of what happened to the rest of the operating equipment. The meters -of the alphatron moved slightly, and then leaped toward the top peg, -stopping before they hit as the meter-sensitivity was cut accordingly. -The mag-grav generator meters followed suit, and then the mech-grav -meters went through the same dance. Then, far above them in the larger -part of the ship, a remotely controlled tap on a bank of high-powered -resistors made two steps forward, and an oil switch that connected the -drive's electronic requirements to the closed-system turbine went home. -Energy charged the gravitic equipment with operating power-- - -And the _Haywire Queen_ lifted upward! - -The accelerometer moved quickly up the scale toward twenty. - -"We made it!" yelled Jimmy Wilson. - -"We're in!" shouted Pete Thurman. - -"Thank God!" breathed McBride. "I'm going to call the Lens and tell Doc -Caldwell that I'm on the way--Hammond, what is that woman doing?" - -The accelerometer had passed twenty, and was approaching twenty-five. - -"Probably bunged the accelerometers out of sync when we crash-landed," -said Hammond. "They're the standard Hooke Accelerometers, you know, and -we may have stretched the spring a bit. She'll stop soon." - -"It's all right," said McBride. "It just makes us get there sooner, but -she shouldn't be playing with the drive this close to Pluto. If we've -missed something, we'll smack." - -The meter passed thirty and headed for forty feet per second per second. - -"Little over one Terran G," mentioned Pete. "She probably has the usual -Pilot's Fever." - -"I know," agreed Hammond, "but her inherent desire to grab sky -shouldn't make her play foolish with a brand-new drive." - -The meter touched fifty for an instant and then went on up toward -sixty. It did not stop at the green line that indicated two Terran G, -but passed it and proceeded on toward seventy feet per. It climbed to -eighty, passed, approached ninety, passed, and still climbed with a -precise linearity that made the men admire the steady hand on the main -power lever in spite of whose hand it was. - -At one hundred feet per second per second, Hammond said: "When is that -dame going to stop?" - -"Call her down," suggested Larry. - -"Better wait. No use making her nervous this close to Pluto. Bawl her -out and she's likely to make the wrong move--and one move would be too -much!" - -The pressure of 4-G held them to their padded seats, and their heads -were fixed immobile in the head braces, all watching the dial climb. -It passed one-thirty, went on up the dial to one-forty, and then the -voice of Sandra Drake said, weakly: - -"When are you fools going to stop?" - -Hammond gaped. "Who? Us?" - -"Who else?" snapped Drake. - -The meter touched one-fifty. - -"We're not doing anything. Level off, Drake, or you'll squash us flat!" - -"_You_ level off. I haven't had the power lever since I adjusted it -before I hit the main switch. I can't even lift my arm now; I didn't -expect you to run this heap of junk from up there and so I didn't -adjust the arm rest." - -The dial crept up past one-sixty. - -"But we're not running it from here," yelled McBride. "We haven't -touched a thing since Hammond told you to take it up at twenty feet -per." - -The automatic respirators started to work, pumping their rib-cages -in rhythm with their own breathing urges, and they sank into the -enveloping folds of the elastomer cushions which supported their -bodies. The meter hit one-seventy and passed it. - -"Then who _is_ running the soup up?" came back the labored voice of -Sandra Drake. "If this is just a joke, cut it. I can't take much more." - -"You--and all of us are doing well to take what we're getting now," -stormed McBride. "Who--" - -"Something's amiss somewhere," said Hammond thoughtfully. "At this -point, any gagster would quit. Look at the meter. One hundred and -ninety feet per! Almost 7-G! Uh--" - - * * * * * - -Black waves and dizziness came, shrouding little dazzles of colored -pinpoints that danced before the eyes. The meter touched two hundred -feet per second per second acceleration, and then the drive was cut -with a snap. The compressed elastomer rebounded, almost throwing the -men from their chairs, but the cover bars held them in. - -The drive was completely off; acceleration zero. - -"Drake! Get the inertia switch in again!" called Hammond. - -"Going in," came the weakened voice of the pilot. - -The original twenty feet per started again, and it began to climb, just -as it did before. "Stay alive," said Hammond to Drake. "We need you to -shove the inertia switch in if nothing else." - -"I don't care to die," came her hard voice. "I'll keep alive. You pack -of fools figure out what's wrong with your invention, that's all I ask." - -"Can you crank the inertia switch down to about 5-G?" asked Pete. "Make -it a hundred and fifty feet per. Then sit there and shove it in every -time it comes out until we can get out of Pluto's grip. We've got to -have a stable place before we can do any fixing." - -"You and your jackrabbit drive," jeered Sandra Drake. "Concocted by the -best brains in space. Baloney--the best space in brains, I call 'em." - -"Some day," promised McBride, "I'm going to spank that woman--with a -hairbrush!" - -The meter rode up steadily to one-fifty, and then dropped to zero with -a click. The oil switch closed again, and the meter started up the -scale once again. This time McBride timed it. - -"Steve," he said. "We're running at twenty per, original setting, and -the acceleration is increasing at the rate of twenty feet per, also. -That means our velocity is increasing at the rate of twenty feet per -second per second per second." - -"Something screwy. Larry, grab a few tools and ride below and fix that -inertia switch so that it will close automatically. No use making -Drake sit there punching on that control button every seven and one -half seconds. We're going to be running this way for a couple of hours -before we get to safe space." - -"A couple of hours?" groaned Drake. "Listen, geniuses, is there any -reason why I couldn't flatten this chair out? This is killing me." - -"Look, Larry, make that switch cut out at 2-G. Sandra, set your drive -for 1-G. It'll jerk our guts to pieces, but we'll be doing about -the same as any ship under a 1-G drive--no, we'll be doing better. -Something in this heap is making us accelerate our acceleration; we're -working on the second derivative. That means--" - -"That means," put in McBride, "that we're running on the rate of -change of acceleration, which is the rate of change of velocity. Now -under this drive, we have a new factor, which we can call 'R' and -which stands for the rate of change of acceleration. Then, since our -acceleration is increasing with respect to time, the linear equation: -V=AT no longer holds to express our velocity at the end of T seconds. -Our first equation under this rule becomes one to find the acceleration -after T seconds under R rate of change of acceleration. Follow? We have -Equation One: - - (1) A=RT - -Then to find the true velocity at the end of T seconds and so forth, we -take the integral of that, and we have: - - (2) V=1/2RT^2 - -To get the distance covered in T seconds at R rate of change, we -integrate once more and come up with ... ah, let's see--Oh, sure: - - (3) D=1/6RT^3 - -Is that clear?" - -"I'd like to see that one worked out on a blackboard," said Jimmy. "At -the present, I'll take your word for it. What I'm interested in right -now is: does this factor 'R' increase with the power setting?" - -"Drake just lifted it to thirty feet per," said Hammond, "and I've been -timing it. So far, it does." - -"Steve," said McBride, "if we can figure out some way of keeping -ourselves from getting killed as the acceleration hits the upper -brackets, we'll have a drive that will get us places like fury. Think -fast, brother." - -Hammond looked up, just as the acceleration reached a peak, and it -snapped his head sharply. "_Whew_," he said. "This is fine stuff, -but we couldn't run anywhere very long this way. We'd shake the whole -crate loose." He was thoughtful for a minute. "Don't suppose that -blackboard mind of yours could figure out our course constants from -this saw-toothed curve we're running?" - -"Sure," grinned McBride. "Since the thing is not increasing constantly, -but is returning to zero accel each time and then building up linearly -to peak, our over-all, long-time acceleration is equivalent to the -average acceleration. Besides, what difference does it make? We'll get -there somehow, and we can probably plot well enough to keep from doing -a lot of return-chasing to hit the lens." - -"O.K., but we're going to have to figure a way out of this. I couldn't -stand knowing anything like this drive without trying to make it -practical." - -"Wait until we can talk without getting our tongues bitten off by this -drive of yours, and we'll go to work on it." - -McBride said: "And I'd say let's do it quick! Enid needs me--" - - * * * * * - -Sandra Drake forced the jack-rabbitting ship into a cockeyed orbit -about Pluto after a couple of hours. They had nosebleed, jittery -nerves, aching muscles, and voracious appetites by the time the drive -was cut. They ate, smoked, took showers, and then decided to call a -conference. - -Hammond opened it by saying: "There's one quick way to do this. -It's on everybody's tongue, but I have the floor and I'll voice it -first. To keep from getting squashed by our own weight under a few -thousand feet per, we need something to take up the shock--something to -counterbalance the gravity-apparent. Jimmy, how many mechanogravitic -generators have we aboard?" - -"Two, including the one we're running in the drive right now. It is as -big, however." - -"How's the output of our patched-together alphatron?" - -"Plenty. The coil of the E-grav was much oversize, and since electrons -will rush in where alphons fear to tread, we've plenty of soup." - -"Then we'll set the other mech-grav up in the nose, and extend the warp -down to envelop the ship. Right?" - -"Right. And now for some kind of safety factor? Supposing something -goes blooey?" asked Pete. "And how do we maintain the relationship -between the drive's power and the counter-drive's attraction?" - -"Weight-driven power controls for the counter-drive. Inertia switches -for safety. Interlocking circuits for every factor so that either the -drive failure will knock out the counter-drive, or vice versa. We'll -build this like an electric lock, so that the whole shebang must be -right on the button before she'll move. Then the failure of any part -to perform will stop all parts simultaneously. It'll probably be jerky -at first, but the prime function is to get Mac to Station 1, and from -there on in we can tinker with this thing until hell freezes over. -O.K., let's hustle the mech-grav into the nose." - -Installing the mech-grav generator in the nose of the ship was not -a difficult job, since it weighed exactly nothing with the ship in -an orbit about Pluto. But the intricate job of hooking the equipment -together was to be more difficult. - -They rammed holes in the bulk-heads to pass cables. They tore out -whole sections of unimportant wiring circuits to get wire for the -interlocking circuits--and when the terminals were there, the relays -and inertia switches had to be made or converted from existing -equipment. - -Sandra Drake was of little help. She could make the ship perform to -within a thousandth of an inch of its design, and perhaps add a few -items that the designers hadn't included, but her knowledge of the -works was small. She hadn't thought it necessary or desirable to -understand, beyond the rudiments, how the drive worked. - -In fact, up to the present time she had scorned the knowledge of any -higher intricacies; her idea had always been that men were paid to -think these things out and she was in a position to pay them for their -knowledge. Let them do it, and give them hell if it was not right. Her -hiring them automatically gave her the right to order them around like -slaves, and since the laws that govern space travel are such that a -ship's pilot or owner may demand attention to the ship, Sandra demanded -such attention, needed or not. - -But this was the second time in less than a year that she had seen men -working with equipment. Before, it had been her fault, and she had -sniffed at their labors in a scornful attitude, gaining their hatred as -she had gained the dislike of so many others. - -This time it was slightly different. She had been sandbagged into -this job and now it seemed as though her own life depended upon the -clearness of the minds of the men who worked over the equipment. - -So she entered this strange world of nuts and bolts and small tools -strewn around in profusion, and stood amazed at the order that was -being worked out of chaos. It was apparent to her that some semblance -to order must be present, since they knew where to turn to pick up the -right tool, and because the right part was always less than a foot from -their ready hands. - - * * * * * - -A headstrong, spoiled brat she may have been, but Sandra Drake was -by no means unintelligent. After John McBride had cut off a tiny -lathe-turning just in time to hand it to Pete, who seemed to need it at -exactly that moment to fit into his instrument, Sandra said to McBride: -"Is there any pattern to all this mess?" - -"If there weren't, we'd really be in a mess." He opened the chuck, -advanced the rod a few inches, and started to turn the rod down to size -again. - -"This," said Sandra in that infuriating voice, "is order, neatness, -and efficiency?" - -"We like it," answered McBride, his eyes on the cross-feed vernier. "It -may not look like a drawing room, but we know what we're doing." - -"Do you? Is this a sample of how the place looks every time the -_Haywire Queen_ goes out to experiment?" - -"Undoubtedly." - -"Why couldn't it be neat and clean?" - -"Because we can't replace every tool back in the cabinet when we are -ready to lay it down for a minute. Because it is far better to run -cutting chips all over the floor and sweep 'em up once instead of -running the broom every seven seconds after each chip. Because it is -easier to work this way." - -"Well," said Sandra, unimpressed, "the _Haywire Queen_ seems deserving -of her name." - -"There have been a lot of ticklish space problems fought out in her," -replied McBride. "Just as we're fighting one now." - -"But where are your drawings? Where are your plans? Where are your -calculations?" - -"Our drawings will be made by draftsmen when we make the thing work," -answered McBride. "No sense in having a sheaf of drawings when we'll -change the thing a dozen times before it is perfected. Our plans -are step-by-step, and any result from one step may change our next -step. Our calculations and mathematical deductions will be handled by -brilliant mathematicians who can twist simple formulas around to fit -the observed data by adding or subtracting abstract terms that fit the -case." - -"Sounds slightly slipshod to me." - -McBride cut the part from the bar and handed it to Pete. "Enough?" he -asked, and Pete nodded over his shoulder. - -"You can start on part two," he called. - -McBride replaced the bar with a larger one and started to work it into -shape. "We don't need drawings," he said. "I know what Pete wants and -how they should fit together and they're fairly simple parts. He knows -what he wants and knows that I know also, so why should we make a lot -of sketches for something trivial?" - -"It seems to me that this is far from trivial," said Sandra pettishly. -"You're playing with the lives of us all." - -"Your life wasn't worth a peanut when you tried to run through the -lens," said McBride. "Why quibble now?" - -"I lived through it," said Drake. - -"You'll live through this, perhaps," said McBride. "Besides, we're not -too worried about our own lives. We're all willing to take a chance on -them for Enid." - -"Yeah?" drawled Sandra sourly. "How about the rest of them? That's only -speaking for yourself." - -Steve Hammond called from across the room: "What he said still goes. -He'd do as much for me!" - -"Just a big bunch of mutual admirers," sneered Sandra. "Always sticking -together in a pinch." - -"What's wrong with that?" - -"Why didn't you think of your wife a long time ago instead of worrying -now. Fine show of nerves for the public consumption!" - -"Miss Drake, as far as we are concerned, you haven't been properly -treated. Somewhere in the Good Book is a reference to sparing the rod -and spoiling the child. Do your parents twist their faces in anguish -every time they see you? They should. Anyone who has foisted upon this -solar system a stinking little, unfeeling rotter like yourself should -hate to be alone with their thoughts. Now get out of here and let us -alone." - -Sandra moved back at the harshness of his voice. McBride looked behind -her and instinctively put out a hand to stop her; but Sandra thought -that the move meant violence and moved back faster. She collided with a -dangling wire from the alphatron and went rigid. She toppled, as stiff -as a board. - -"Great Space!" exploded Hammond. "Jimmy, how much was that?" - -"Nine hundred alphons," answered Jimmy, looking at the meters on the -alphatron and making a quick calculation. "Not enough to harm. She's -just had all of her voluntary nervous system paralyzed." - -McBride stooped, picked her up, and carried her to a work-chair, which -he kicked horizontal with his foot and dropped her into it. He went -to the medicine cabinet and filled a hypo which he shot into her arm. -Gradually her too-regular breathing became humanly irregular again and -she moved to get up. - -"Stay there," said McBride. - -"Rest a bit," advised Hammond. - -"And remember next time," warned Jimmy, "that this kind of a place is -no place to walk backwards. Another two hundred alphons--and that is -far from impossible--and you'd have been extremely dead." He wiped his -forehead with a dirty cloth, mopping the beads of nervous perspiration -away. - -"I suppose that would have left you without a pilot," said Sandra. Her -sharp remark lacked her usual conviction, however, and she realized -that it fell flat. She got out of the chair and left abruptly. - - * * * * * - -"Well, I'll be--" - -"Be careful," said Larry. "She isn't worth it." - -"I'm going to take the bad taste out of my mouth by calling the Lens," -announced McBride. - -"Go ahead," offered Pete. "We'll polish off here and by the time you're -through, we'll make a stab at it!" - -McBride got a through connection to Station 1, and Dr. Caldwell came to -the phone. - -"Doc," asked McBride. "How's Enid?" - -"Touch and go, lad. We're still fighting." - -"Bad?" - -"I'm afraid to say 'no' to that one," answered Caldwell in a tight -voice. - -"What does she say?" - -"She's been in a coma ever since the fall, except for a minute or two -in which she called for you. John, I shouldn't have sent you away." - -"Don't worry about that one. After all, you didn't know she was going -to take a header." - -"Yeah, but--" - -"You fix her up and we'll forget it." - -"But suppose--" - -"Doc, is it that bad?" - -"I can not deny that she would be infinitely better off if you were -here. She needs an emotional lift." - -"I'm trying." - -"I know, lad, but the next ship off of Pluto is in five days and then -four more days of flight at a killing drive. Nine interminable days." - -McBride debated the advisability of telling Caldwell of their -experiment, but decided against it. If he said anything about the -possibility of getting there sooner, Caldwell might tell Enid on the -chance that it might do her some good. On the other hand, if Enid -thought he were coming, and he did not come, the shock-- - -"O.K., Doc. We'll get there somehow." - -"We'll keep fighting," said Caldwell. - -He hung up the phone as Hammond spoke into the communicator. "Sunward -at thirty feet per," he said. - -"Thirty feet per," answered Drake. "And may we not get burned!" - -"Trusting soul," observed Hammond. - -Sandra thrust the main lever home with a savage motion. Deftly she -juggled the steering levers until the ship pointed at Sol. "We're off," -she said. "Hold your hats!" - - * * * * * - -The accelerometer climbed by the second. It hit one hundred feet per, -and then slowed in its climb, approaching one twenty in an exponential -curve. In the other room, a step-by-step switch continued to click off -the contacts, and the generators in the turbine room whined higher and -higher up the scale. Minutes passed and became a half hour. - -"We're in," said McBride, with a deep exhalation. "But how in the name -of sin can we tell what our acceleration is?" - -"The Hooke type of accelerometer is useless when we neutralize the -gravity-apparent," agreed Hammond. "We're going to have some inventing -to do." - -"I wonder what the limit of our acceleration is," said Jimmy. "It can't -be infinite, because the mechanogravitic generator above can take only -so much--" - -The inertia switches went out with startling clicks, and the -weight-loaded rheostats whirred home to zero. Relays danced madly as -the acceleration went to zero once more. - -"Right back where we started from," came the pained voice of Sandra -Drake. "Can't you birds think of something practical?" - -She thrust the main control home once more, hooking it up to the -automatic circuit that Larry had installed. The acceleration began -again. "Now we'll have some more jackrabbit drive--but with a longer -jump," said Drake cynically. - -"We'll have to limp all the way to the Lens on this drive," said -McBride. "It isn't too good, but I can't see--" - -"I'm tired of this jerky stuff," said Sandra Drake entering the room. -"It seems to me that you should be able to duplicate the mess you have -here by something similar up in the nose." - -"Yes?" asked Steve Hammond politely. He was interested but not -impressed. - -"What I'm trying to say is this: Wouldn't a set-up similar to this -space-eating drive also be capable of exerting mechanical attraction, -thereby getting you a constantly increasing neutralizing force?" - -Steve thought that one over. "Not bad. Not bad at all!" - -Jimmy jumped to his feet. "It'll work, Steve. We'll have to induce -the mechanogravitic force in a cupralum bar by secondary gravitic -radiation, but it is a known phenomenon. Drakey, that's top!" - -"Except for one thing," said Larry. "We're fresh out of magnetogravitic -generators. Aside from that, we can run this heap all the way to -Sirius." - -Pete said: "Yeah, and if we did have one, we'd still be short a few -thousand alphons. The alphatron won't carry another generator, nor will -the little one upstairs." He grinned at Sandra. "We're not tossing cold -water on your suggestion. It'll work--but not right now." - -"Then it was good?" asked Drake with the first question of honest awe -she had used in years. - -"Perfect," said McBride, cheerfully. "But not quite complete. We -won't censure you for that, however, since we know that you haven't -been hanging around space-warp engineers for the last ten years. You -couldn't have known that this mag-grav generator will do service on -both ends. All we have to do is to direct the output on a two-lobe -pattern instead of a single-lobe pattern, and set our induction bar -up above in the field of the mechanogravitic we've already got there. -Jimmy, change the output pattern of the mag-grav and we'll hike aloft -with the cupralum bar." He bowed at Sandra. "Thanks to that one, we'll -be moving right along!" - - * * * * * - -Pilot Drake sent the power lever home at thirty feet per, and watched -the accelerator climb to exactly thirty, where it stopped and hung. -Minutes passed, and the meter read constant. - -Steve Hammond smiled wider and wider as the minutes added into a -quarter hour. "I think our cupralum hull is helping," he said. - -"How?" asked Pete. - -"Why, it is collecting enough leakage-warp to create a nice large warp -of its own--in which we now travel, and in which the accelerometer -reads only that factor 'R' of Mac's. That meter reads the rate of -change of acceleration. Drake, step it up to sixty." - -Sandra advanced the drive, and the meter went up to sixty even. - -"We're on the ball," said Hammond. - -"We sure are," said McBride, passing a forefinger over his cheek. "It's -hot in here." - -"I know. And you can call the Lens and tell the Doc we're on our way." - -"I tried that. The lines were busy, so I shot 'em a 'gram. They know -now that we're coming." - -"I wonder if your math is correct," said Steve. - -"Why?" - -"If it is," explained Steve, "we'll be halfway to the Lens in three -hours from start--no, wait a minute. We're running at sixty feet now. -That means a little better than two hours! But if they are correct, -we'll be hitting almost two times the speed of light. That is not -possible." - -"I think we'll do it," said McBride. "After all, we're in a space warp, -and no one really knows whether the laws of the universe hold in a -space warp. Drake hit the Lens at about ten thousand miles per second, -was stopped in time to get to one of the fore lens stations, which must -have been terrific deceleration--unthinkably high--and it didn't even -muss her hair. We'll know in a bit when we are supposed to hit the -speed of light." - -"Then for the love of Mike, what is our limiting velocity?" - -"The same as any of the gravitic spectra. Gravitic phenomena propagates -at the speed of light raised to the power of 2.71828--That's our -limiting velocity." - -"Want to make any bets?" - -"I don't mind. My guess is as good as yours." - -"Better," admitted Steve. - - * * * * * - -Below, in the pilot room, Sandra Drake was having a state of nerves. -She was alone in the driver's seat of a ship destined to exceed the -speed of light, and she was scared. For some reason, the men who -professed to shy at danger were arguing the possibilities of running -above the speed of light while she, who had lived the life of an -adventuresome girl, a daredevil, was worrying. She listened through the -communicator at their argument and cursed under her breath. - -They were going at it in a pedantic manner, hurling equations and -theorems and postulates at one another like lawyers with a case for -the supreme court, not men who were heading for God-Knows-What at a -headlong pace under an ever-increasing acceleration. - -There were all sorts of arguments as to the aspect of the sky as the -speed of light was approached. And how it would look at a velocity -of more than light. This went on for some time, with Steve Hammond -holding out for blackout and John McBride holding for a sky that -crawled forward due to the angle-vectors created by the ship's passage -across the light rays, until the entire sky appeared before them--all -the stars in the sky would be in the hemisphere in front of them, no -constellation recognizable. - -"But your supposition does not recognize the doppler effect," objected -Hammond. "Visible light will be out of the visible spectrum." - -"True enough. But solar radiation extends from down low in the -electromagnetic scale to very very high in the extra-hard UV. Visible -spectra will be dopplered into the UV, all right, but the radio waves -will have an apparent frequency of light, and we shall see the stars by -that, I think." - -"With no change in color?" asked Hammond skeptically. - -"There will be a change in color, naturally. We'll observe them in -accordance with whatever long waves they emit; they will in no way -resemble the familiar stars we know." - -"How's a poor devil going to navigate at any rate?" asked Larry. "With -everything out of place--or invisible--what's he going to use for -signposts?" - -"In normal usage, the super drive will be fine. We've been using -autopilots for years and years, setting up the whole course from -take-off to the last half hour of landing. We can still do it. We'll be -flying blind, but so what? We fly pretty blind as it is; no one gives a -rap about the sky outside. Instrument flying is our best bet." - -"Well," said Hammond, "we'll see it soon enough. The color of the stars -behind us are changing right now." - -"They should. We're running at three quarters of light--and, Stevey -Boy, they're still visible!" - -Silently they watched the sky. Dead below them, a tiny black circle -appeared and the stars that once occupied this circle were flowing -away from it radially. It expanded, and the region of flow spread -circularly, and the bowl of the sky moved like a fluid thing towards -the top of the ship until the stars at their nose were crowding -together. Stars appeared there, new stars caused by the crossing of -electromagnetic waves from the rear, and the sky took on an alien sight. - -For a long time the stars seemed to tighten in their positions above -the ship, and then the warning bell rang and the ship swapped ends -easily and the bowl of the sky was below them. - -Then it began to return to the fore observation point of the _Haywire -Queen_ as the velocity of the ship dropped. The crawl started, and -the black circle diminished until it was gone. The stars continued -to regain their familiar color as the _Haywire Queen_ approached the -normal velocities used by mankind. - - * * * * * - -Five hours after their start, the _Haywire Queen_ slid clumsily to a -stop beside Station 1 and made a landing. She arced a bit, since the -charge-generating equipment did not have the refinements of the Lens -flitters for making the ship assume the charge of the destined station. -But the arc was not too bad, and within a minute after the _Haywire -Queen_ touched the landing deck, John McBride was knocking on the door -of Dr. Caldwell's office in the hospital. - -Caldwell came out of the inner door to answer the summons, and he -looked up at McBride and went dead-white. - -"Mac! It's you?" - -"Naturally," smiled McBride. "How's Enid?" - -"How did you get here?" demanded Doc. - -"That's a long yarn, Doc, and it includes a whole engineering program, -exceeding the velocity of light, and using a space warp as a traveling -companion. How's Enid?" - -"She was none too good, but we'll have her through now. Come on in!" - -"First tell Tommy that the _Haywire Queen_ is on the landing deck and -that they're to have anything they need if we have to kill the lens to -give it to them!" - -"I heard that, John," said Tommy, coming in the door. "It's done." He -turned on his heel and left immediately. - -John approached the bedside. "Enid," he said softly. - -Enid's eyes fluttered. A wave of pain passed across her face and she -tried to move. McBride looked at the doctor. - -"Go ahead, John," said Doc. - -"Enid. I'm here. It's John." - -Enid opened her mouth, gasped once, and said in a very weak voice: -"John? Here?" - -"Nowhere else." - -"But you ... were on ... Pluto--?" - -McBride thought that one over. How could he explain? He decided not -to, and said: "I've been coming back for a long time, Enid. I'm here -now--that's all that counts." - -"Yes, John," said Enid. - -"She'll be all right now," said Caldwell. "That's what she needed." - -Another wave of pain crossed Enid's face, and a nurse came with a -filled hypo. - -Caldwell drew McBride out. "Another half hour will see her through," he -told John. "You wait here and everything will be all right. I know that -now, thank God." - -Caldwell left McBride to re-enter Enid's room. - -Steve Hammond and Sandra Drake entered the office. "How is she?" asked -Hammond. - -"Doc says she's going to be all right, now. I've seen her and Doc says -she's perking up already." - -"Good!" said Steve. "Drake, that was a nice piece of navigating. You -hit Station 1 right on the nose." - -Sandra felt a whole library of emotions, mixed together. She smiled a -sickly smile and said: "I should have. I've been here before, remember?" - -Hammond ignored the statement because he thought it sounded too much -like bluster. "Drake," he said, "the _Haywire Queen_ is about ready to -hop for Terra. Do you feel up to running it in?" - -"Steve," snapped Sandra Drake, "I'm not going to let any idiot male -handle the _Haywire Queen_, and don't you forget it! After all, I'm -the only pilot in the solar system that knows how to run her! I'll -personally strangle both you and whomever you think you're going to -get for that job, understand?" - -Sandra turned and left. - -"What in the name of the seven hells has got that dame?" asked McBride. - -"There are a lot of ways to kill a cat besides choking it to death -with cream," said Hammond thoughtfully, "but the latter way is just as -effective and sometimes a lot easier. Our she-barracuda has just hit -the one thing that she can't fight." - -"Huh?" - -"Sure. We gave her credit for doing a good job. Willing, honest credit. -No matter how she may profess to despise our opinion, she can't yell -'Liar' at us because that would mean that she thought that the praise -meant nothing. She's got to agree with us, or deny that she did -anything worthy. And she's been living in a world of her own, trying to -prove that she is the stuff. So--get me?" - -"Uh-huh, I suppose so. How're you set?" - -"Pretty good. We've swiped all of your spare alphatrons and a couple -more gravitic generators, and we'll butter the job up a little so that -we won't worry about over-loading the alphatrons. That'll take us an -hour or so. How're you doing?" - -"I dunno. Doc said wait here--and dammit, I'm running out of -fingernails, cigarettes, and patience." - -"Well hang tight. I'll be back from time to time to see how you're -getting along--Hi, Doc? What's the good word?" - -"It's good," sighed Dr. Caldwell. - -"Honest?" yelled McBride. "Enid's O.K.?" - -"Fine. From here on in it's a breeze. Oh, I forgot to tell you. She's -had her son." - -"She's what?" yelled McBride. - -"Son. John McBride Junior, I presume. He's an ugly, carrot-colored, -monkey-faced, repulsively wrinkled little monster, but Enid says he's -the image of the old man." - -McBride looked at Caldwell, and then rushed out to Enid's room. - -"Image of the old man, hey?" asked Hammond. - -"He'll develop," said Dr. Caldwell. "Junior is a Latent Image!" - - - THE END. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LATENT IMAGE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Latent Image</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Wesley Long</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 10, 2022 [eBook #68280]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LATENT IMAGE ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop"> - <img src="images/illusc.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>"Latent Image"</h1> - -<h2>by WESLEY LONG</h2> - -<p>Illustrated by Orban</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Astounding Science-Fiction, May 1944.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>John McBride stood on the roof garden of Satan's Hotel, looking across -the River Styx at Sharon. To his left, the River Styx emptied into the -Sulphur Sea, and in the evening sky to his right, the dancing flames -lighted the cloud banks over Mephisto, where the uranium smelters -worked on a nonstop plan.</p> - -<p>John McBride was in Hell.</p> - -<p>But Hell is a city on Pluto, where the planners had a free hand -because no intelligent life had ever scarred the planet until man came -with his machinery and his luxury and his seeking for metal. Uranium -had been found in plenty on Pluto, and so man had created a livable -planet from the coldest, most forbidding planet in the System.</p> - -<p>John McBride was in Hell, on Pluto, but his mind was dwelling in a -little cube that rotated about a mythical spot halfway between Sol -and Pluto; one of the many stations that created the space warp that -focused Sol on Pluto with an angle of incidence equal to the incidence -of Sol on Terra. Enid McBride was back there in that minute station, -and John McBride wanted to be with her.</p> - -<p>But Dr. Caldwell, the resident doctor of the Plutonian Lens, said: -"John, if you've got to go to Pluto, that's O.K. But you can't take -Enid with you. That's strictly out, with a capital 'O,' get me?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose—"</p> - -<p>"I've been doctoring for many years, John. It's safe for you to run -off for a week or so, but don't move Enid. Your kid won't be born for -a month, yet, but if you subject her to the 4- or 5-G you need to get -from here to Pluto, you'll have—not only the baby, but as nasty a mess -as you've ever seen! Take it from me, fella, 4-G is worse than a fall -if you keep it up for hours. No dice!"</p> - -<p>"O.K.," said John, unhappily. "She'll be all right?"</p> - -<p>"Sure," said Caldwell. "Besides, all you can do now is to sit around, -bite your fingernails, and ask foolish questions. If I had my way, -you'd be away when the youngster is born, that'd save you from a lot of -useless worry."</p> - -<p>"That isn't fair."</p> - -<p>"I know you feel that way. Enid does too. But it is still sort of -futile. You want the right to worry; go ahead and worry. After all, -there are enough people around the Lens that know you are worrying. -She'll be all right, I tell you!"</p> - -<p>"You'll let me know if anything turns up?"</p> - -<p>"That's a promise, John."</p> - -<p>So John McBride was standing on a roof garden in Hell, thinking how -appropriate it was. He was in Hell, all right. Hell was a nice place -to be, warm, pleasant, and happily balanced. But it was no place to -be when your wife is nineteen hundred million miles away. Ah, well, -another week of this and he would be racing homeward.</p> - -<p>Home! That was funny, to consider home, a place in space where gravity -was furnished by an mechanogravitic warp, and where there were no -windows to open, and where you lived in a cube of steel three thousand -feet on a side, mostly filled with the items required for living plus -the maze of equipment required to maintain the great lens that gave -Pluto its sun.</p> - -<p>Home! It was a far cry from his boyhood home on Venus, where the -greenery of the forest fought with the very walls. But home is where -you like it, and McBride liked it.</p> - -<p>He wished that he were there, for he felt that Enid needed him.</p> - -<p>Then with that perversity of nature that people call fate, a bellhop -approached him and handed him a spacegram. McBride tipped the boy and -opened the envelope easily. He'd been getting 'grams by round numbers -for several years, and this was no novelty. He was not aware of its -importance until he opened the folded page and read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>JOHN MC BRIDE<br /> -SATAN'S HOTEL<br /> -HELL, PLUTO</p> - -<p>HIT SKY FOR HOME. ENID IN NO GREAT DANGER FROM FALL, BUT HER RECOVERY -WILL BE ASSISTED BY YOUR PRESENCE.</p> - -<p class="ph1">CALDWELL.</p></div> - -<p>McBride read the words twice, and then looked around himself, wildly. -<i>Hit Sky</i> was easy to say—but at 6-G it would take just over one -hundred hours to make the passage. Four days minimum!</p> - -<p>McBride raced to the elevator, chewed his fingernails while the car -rode him down the hundred and seven floors with that snail's pace -caused by many stops. He shot out of the elevator door, caromed off the -opposite wall into an ash tray which he upset and sent a small cascade -of sand across the floor. McBride coasted to a stop before the hotel -manager's desk and tossed the 'gram in front of him. The manager read -and looked up in sympathy.</p> - -<p>McBride said: "Get me a reservation on the next sunward-bound ship. -Emergency stop; they'll make the stopoff with an emergency."</p> - -<p>"Right." The manager spoke into the phone and then said: "And you'll be -checking out?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Have one of the boys collect my stuff and ship it out to Station -1."</p> - -<p>"O.K., McBride, we'll see that your stuff is taken care of. Ben!" he -called out through the door, "hurry up on that reservation, and see -that a car is ready to take Mr. McBride to Hellsport."</p> - -<p>"T'won't be necessary," said Ben with a glum face. "The <i>Uranium -Lady</i> just took off fifteen minutes ago, and there isn't another ship -scheduled out of Hellsport for five days."</p> - -<p>"Five days!" groaned McBride. "Anything flyable on this planet?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing that would take a run to the Lens," said Ben.</p> - -<p>"Sure?"</p> - -<p>"Almost positive. However, I'll put a request on the radio that may -smoke out an unknown."</p> - -<p>"I'll buy the thing if they won't let me go any other way," said -McBride.</p> - -<p>"We understand," said the hotel manager.</p> - -<p>McBride stamped up and down the hotel lobby for an hour. His luggage -came down, all collected and prepared. He called Caldwell, and spoke to -him for an hour, but Dr. Caldwell's protestations didn't help McBride. -Enid had fallen from a chair while cleaning out a shelf, and was -resting easily, no complications. Yes, there was some pain, enough to -make Enid want her husband near. No danger, no, but it would be best if -he were there.</p> - -<p>But McBride was still one hundred hours and nineteen hundred million -miles away.</p> - -<p>John McBride didn't see the messenger boy bringing the message until -he almost bumped into him. "Mr. McBride, here's your answer," said the -lad, and he saw McBride rip the envelope open with a quick gesture to -read the following:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>MC BRIDE:</p> - -<p>EXPERIMENTAL SPACESHIP <i>HAYWIRE QUEEN</i> AT YOUR COMMAND IF YOU CAN -REPAIR ALPHATRON. MEET ME AT HELLSPORT.</p> - -<p class="ph1">STEVE HAMMOND (SKYWAYS)</p></div> - -<p>McBride said to the messenger: "It's grabbing at straws, but get me a -cab and I'll take a whirl at it."</p> - -<p>"Think you can do it?" asked the lad.</p> - -<p>"Don't know. I'm desperate. After all, it's a wild chance because if -Steve Hammond and his gang haven't been able to repair it, how can I -expect to?"</p> - -<p>"Give it a whirl anyway, sir," said the lad.</p> - -<p>"That I'll do," said McBride. "And now that cab!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The <i>Haywire Queen</i> stood above McBride as he met Steve Hammond. -"What's your trouble, John?" asked Hammond.</p> - -<p>McBride explained. Then he asked: "What's yours?"</p> - -<p>Hammond smiled wryly. "That's a long, sad tale. We've been trying to -increase the efficiency of the drive, you know. We've been hunting up -and down the electrogravitic spectrum for a more efficient operating -point. We found what we knew already; that we were using the most -efficient part of the E-grav range. We went all the way from down -low, where the stuff is just beginning to make itself detectable -to up high where the equipment is slightly fragile and extremely -experimental in construction. Then we took a run at the mec-grav, -with absolutely no success other than to ruin a whole bank of relays; -the mechanogravitic warp extended farther than we anticipated when we -hit the mechanogravitic resonance of the drive bar, and hell sort of -flew all over in great hunks. One of the interesting items was the -closing of the E-grav field controls, and the resulting power drain -over-loaded the alphatron. We limped in using a jury-rigged line from -the lifeship's alphatron and made a something-slightly-less than a -crash landing here on Pluto.</p> - -<p>"So now we're either stuck here until we get the new alphatron we -ordered, or you can give us a few hints on household repairs."</p> - -<p>"What's your lifeship's output?" asked McBride, following Hammond into -the spacelock.</p> - -<p>"About eleven hundred alphons."</p> - -<p>"You'll need about fourteen hundred to take off from Pluto," said John. -"How's the big one?"</p> - -<p>"Deader than the proverbial dodo, whatever that was."</p> - -<p>"Dodo?" laughed McBride. "That was a mythical critter that went around -dead, I think. It was so dead, even when alive, that when it really -died, it was really dead."</p> - -<p>"You'd better stick to alphatrons," laughed Hammond.</p> - -<p>"Speaking of the equipment, have you tried to get a replacement on -Pluto?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing didding. About our only chance is to haywire something -together. But remember, we still have to make a landing, somewhere, -and that means a safety factor is somewhat to be desired."</p> - -<p>"Not at all. If we can take off safely, we're in!"</p> - -<p>"Explain. As I was taught in school, anyone can fly a spaceship, but it -takes a pilot to land one."</p> - -<p>"Sure, but remember you'll be stopping off at the Lens. We've got -replacements there that will enable you to make space repairs and go on -from there in safety."</p> - -<p>"Didn't think of that. Well, here's the mess!"</p> - -<p>McBride needed no close inspection to see that the alphatron was -definitely defunct. A foul smell, faint, ephemerally pungent, -permeated the room. It was the smell of burned synthetic coil dope and -field-winding varnish which has been described as smelling something -like a frying toupee.</p> - -<p>"Not only dead," was his cryptic remark, "but dead and sutteed!"</p> - -<p>"Fricasseed," corrected Hammond. "Anything we can do?"</p> - -<p>"Is the winding intact?"</p> - -<p>"We thought of that, too. Nope. Electrical inspection indicates that -the winding is melted together in several places. You couldn't unwind -the coil, let alone rewind it with fresh insulation. We've got a couple -of gallons of insulation handy, if you get a good idea."</p> - -<p>"Not yet. But look, Hammond, have you tried the magnetogravitic -spectrum yet?"</p> - -<p>"No. That was our next program."</p> - -<p>"I'd have tried that first," mused McBride. "Knowing that the drive -depends upon the action of a cupralum bar under high magnetic -density plus an electrogravitic warp, I should think that the close -relationship between the magnetic and electronic phenomena would lead -you to try the mag-grav first."</p> - -<p>"I didn't want to start at the top," said Hammond dryly. "In spite of -the fact that Dr. Ellson claimed to have discovered a region in the -mag-grav spectrum that produced a faint success."</p> - -<p>"Well, what I'm thinking is that we can rip up the E-grav generator and -use the field coil for the alphatron. It'll carry electrons as well as -it carries alphons, you know."</p> - -<p>"Better," said Hammond. "But what do we use for an E-grav?"</p> - -<p>"First we'll hunt up through the spectrum of the magnetogravitic -spectrum. If that doesn't work, we can add the warp produced by your -mech-grav, run from the lifeship's little alphatron. Right?"</p> - -<p>"It's an idea. Seems to me that I've heard somewhere that the combined -warps of magneto- and mechanogravitic produces some vectors in the -electrogravitic spectrum."</p> - -<p>"Mind if I brag?" asked McBride. "That was in a paper I scribbled for -the Interplanetary Gravitic Engineers. Purely a matter of making a -few dimes, at the time there was nothing practical about it, since -we had E-grav generators before we discovered the mechano- and -magnetogravitics."</p> - -<p>"We?" grinned Hammond. "You were still three generations in the future -at the time, grandpa. But it's worth a try."</p> - -<p>"Never thought that my effort was going to be worth a hoot," smiled -John McBride. "Let's give it a whirl."</p> - -<p>"O.K. I'll call the gang." Steve Hammond stepped to the communicator -and spoke. "Jimmy, Pete, Larry! Come a-running and bring your cutting -pliers!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>From what was obviously three different parts of the ship, three voices -answered.</p> - -<p>Pete arrived first. "Meet John McBride of the Plutonian Lens," -introduced Hammond. "This is Pete, whose whole name is Peter Thurman, -and who is the guy who knows all about drive equipment."</p> - -<p>Pete grinned. "You see us hitting sky at two hundred feet per," he -said, shaking McBride's hand.</p> - -<p>Jimmy arrived, with Larry not far behind. "These are James Wilson and -Lawrence Timkins, respectively. Jimmy is the alphatron expert, and -Larry knows all there is to know about electrical circuits and wiring."</p> - -<p>"He's ribbing me about those relays," laughed Larry, while Jimmy was -saying: "Y'smell that smell? That was my pride and joy."</p> - -<p>"Tell me," asked McBride, "what does <i>he</i> do?"</p> - -<p>"Who, Steve? Oh he's just the bird that wanted the things done that -resulted in this mess. He's primarily responsible."</p> - -<p>"Hm-m-m. That puts the fix on the whole thing," said McBride. "Well, -fellow, you've heard about Enid. I've got to get home. If we can fake -up something so that the <i>Haywire Queen</i> will cut loose with a couple -of hundred feet per for long enough to get me to Station 1, I'll see -that your ruined equipment is replaced so that you can make a safe -landing. Say! How come you do not carry a spare alphatron?"</p> - -<p>"Why doesn't man come with two hearts?" asked Jimmy. "That's because -they're usually dependable. No one ever tried to run two brains off of -one heart—that's why one heart stands up pretty well. I can imagine -the trouble that would result if two involuntary control centers were -running the same heart—it would be something like what happened when -the mech-grav made the E-grav cut in—something would blow a fuse."</p> - -<p>They laughed, and then Hammond explained about the program. "Right away -quick we'll try the mech-grav along with the mag-grav. That sounds like -our best bet for something that works. Also breach the lifeship and -sabotage the little alphatron for the mech-grav. Might as well have it -down here where it's needed." In an aside to McBride, he added: "Is -this like your place? No fuses, no safety devices, no spare equipment -because some screwball is always filching something off of a bit of -standard equipment to make an experimental set-up?"</p> - -<p>"Anything but the running and operating gear of the Lens stations," -said McBride, "is subject to change without notice. I've even -seen a spare mech-grav generator used to counterbalance Jim Lear's -teeter-totter. Jim's dad is on Station 3 and there isn't any kid of -that size and age on Three. Did a good job, too, since Bob Lear fixed -the mech-grav density control with a switch that urged the far end of -the plank so that Jim was lifted and dropped at the right speed."</p> - -<p>"Sort of expensive counterbalance, wasn't it?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose so, but Bob said it was better than having to crank his son -up and down by hand. Besides, we have lots of power out at the Lens." -McBride paused. "Say. Do you run the <i>Haywire Queen</i> with this crew? -Who's pilot?"</p> - -<p>"Hannigan. But he got hurt when the works blew up. He ran us in all -right, though any of us can take a trick at landing. But he's taking -a rest cure to soothe his nerves; they got a scrambling from too much -electricity."</p> - -<p>"Too bad."</p> - -<p>"Not so bad. Just made him jittery. He'll be all right in a week. But -we won't have to run home without a pilot. I've got one coming out in a -couple of hours. Drake. Ever heard of a pilot named Drake?"</p> - -<p>"Seems to me that the name is familiar," said McBride slowly. "But not -too clear, I'll know him when I see him."</p> - -<p>"I won't. Conducted the hiring by mail, and then gave him a call when -the need came—your need, I mean. They told me that Drake was out of -the building, but that he'd be at Hellsport as soon as they could find -him. Has a pretty good record, too, save for one thing—"</p> - -<p>"Steve," said one of the men, "can you give us a lift? The <i>Beetle's</i> -alphatron is somewhat heavier than we can handle around this corner."</p> - -<p>"Sure. And the next time we're at Terra, have 'em fix the hoist rail, -huh?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Wires, bunched cables, and scraps were a tangled mess on the floor. -Tools were strewn about in profusion. A box of nuts and bolts had -overturned and cascaded the small parts across the floor below the -workbench. But the work was progressing in fine shape in spite of the -seeming confusion and messiness. To someone who knew these men, it was -obvious that they knew their business and how to use their tools even -though the place was ankle deep in junk. To someone who knew them not, -the place looked like a junk shop.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Is this the place where the finest brains in space work out the -intricate problems?" asked a cool contralto with a cynical tone.</p> - -<p>McBride, who had just finished welding a small angle bracket on the -bottom of the mech-grav generator, looked up, blinked, did a double -take, and then stood up. The torch burned the air in his limp fingers, -wasting the canned gas.</p> - -<p>"You! Drake! <i>Sandra</i> Drake!"</p> - -<p>"Is there another?" asked the saucy voice.</p> - -<p>"I thought that Sandy was a nickname," snapped Hammond.</p> - -<p>"It's Sandra," said she, "and it looks to me that your friend McBride -is always up to his ears in junk!"</p> - -<p>John extinguished the torch and advanced upon the picturesque red-head. -"Have you still got your license?" he asked. "After that stunt you -pulled—"</p> - -<p>"Your political pals took away my private license, but I'm still -registered as a pilot. This, I've been told, is an emergency, and, -therefore, I am compelled to run your junk-heap for you. I'm willing -for no other reason than the fact that my assistance to you in your -so-called time of need will be instrumental in getting my private -license back. Are you ready to go—and where?"</p> - -<p>"We're about ready to try," said Steve.</p> - -<p>"Try?" scorned Sandra. The perfect features twisted in a sneer. "Aren't -the best brains working today?"</p> - -<p>"Look, Pilot Drake, this is an experimental crate from way back," -snapped Hammond. "You're likely to find yourself drinking coffee out -of a relay-shield. We blew out the only alphatron this side of Jupiter -by mishap, and John and we have been trying to gain the same effect by -trusting to an experiment made several years ago but abandoned."</p> - -<p>"I think I'll have none of it," snorted Drake. "I'd like to see a -little more of the solar system before I die. You can get some other -fool to run your patched-up ash can."</p> - -<p>"Drake," said Steve Hammond, "if you do not run this crate for us—or -at least try as hard as we are trying—I'll personally see that you -are mentioned whenever skunks, lizards, and butyl mercaptan are talked -about. This is an emergency."</p> - -<p>"Mind telling me just what type of life-and-death run you're going -for?" asked Sandra, loftily.</p> - -<p>"Enid McBride is hurt and needs him," said Hammond, pointing at John. -"There's a small matter involved—a small matter of a baby's life, -possibly. If John can get there in time, his presence will give Enid -the amount of lift she needs. Get me?"</p> - -<p>"Baby?" sneered Sandra. "What woman in her right mind would have—"</p> - -<p>"Your mother," snapped Hammond, "and she made a mistake. Now will you -rectify her error and do something of value for once in your ill-used -twenty-four years?"</p> - -<p>"I've no choice," said Drake. "I'll do it. But—"</p> - -<p>"No buts. You're under suspension right now, and how you handle the -<i>Haywire Queen</i> marks your card. Take it—or take it!"</p> - -<p>"Where's the pilot room?" asked Sandra in a cool tone.</p> - -<p>"Below—where it usually is in a ship of this type. Your orders will be -coming soon enough, I hope."</p> - -<p>"And our destination will probably be Station 1?"</p> - -<p>"Right. Will you need navigational details?"</p> - -<p>"I can work them out."</p> - -<p>Drake left, and the men put the finishing touches on the double-warp -set-up. Hammond turned the equipment on, running them at test power -while Jimmy and McBride adjusted the generators for maximum output.</p> - -<p>Pete inspected the myriad of little glowing lights on the informer -panel and said that the ship was working properly from dome to foot.</p> - -<p>"Grab a rolling chair," said Hammond to McBride. Then he snapped the -communicator and said: "Drake. Up at twenty feet per."</p> - -<p>"Up at twenty feet per second per second acceleration," responded -Sandra in that flat, personless voice.</p> - -<p>"We hope," said Steve with a short laugh.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>An alarm gong sounded through the open communicator, and directly -afterward, the men in the power room could hear the relays closing. In -the room above them, an oil switch closed with a crashing sound, its -racket hardly muffled by the steel-grating floor. A rheostat whirred -as it followed the impulses sent from the control board in the pilot's -room; it whisked over a dozen contacts and came to rest. Four big pilot -lights winked into brilliance above the informer panel, indicating -that the ship was, 1.: Air-tight; 2.: Properly air-conditioned; 3.: -Possessed of sufficient power for flight; and 4.: Ready to lift. Behind -a two-foot dial, a diffused light glowed, illuminating the face which -would indicate the acceleration in feet per second. A small dynamotor -whined up the scale and into the region of inaudibility, and a series -of safe lights went on; lights that would be on all the time regardless -of what happened to the rest of the operating equipment. The meters -of the alphatron moved slightly, and then leaped toward the top peg, -stopping before they hit as the meter-sensitivity was cut accordingly. -The mag-grav generator meters followed suit, and then the mech-grav -meters went through the same dance. Then, far above them in the larger -part of the ship, a remotely controlled tap on a bank of high-powered -resistors made two steps forward, and an oil switch that connected the -drive's electronic requirements to the closed-system turbine went home. -Energy charged the gravitic equipment with operating power—</p> - -<p>And the <i>Haywire Queen</i> lifted upward!</p> - -<p>The accelerometer moved quickly up the scale toward twenty.</p> - -<p>"We made it!" yelled Jimmy Wilson.</p> - -<p>"We're in!" shouted Pete Thurman.</p> - -<p>"Thank God!" breathed McBride. "I'm going to call the Lens and tell Doc -Caldwell that I'm on the way—Hammond, what is that woman doing?"</p> - -<p>The accelerometer had passed twenty, and was approaching twenty-five.</p> - -<p>"Probably bunged the accelerometers out of sync when we crash-landed," -said Hammond. "They're the standard Hooke Accelerometers, you know, and -we may have stretched the spring a bit. She'll stop soon."</p> - -<p>"It's all right," said McBride. "It just makes us get there sooner, but -she shouldn't be playing with the drive this close to Pluto. If we've -missed something, we'll smack."</p> - -<p>The meter passed thirty and headed for forty feet per second per second.</p> - -<p>"Little over one Terran G," mentioned Pete. "She probably has the usual -Pilot's Fever."</p> - -<p>"I know," agreed Hammond, "but her inherent desire to grab sky -shouldn't make her play foolish with a brand-new drive."</p> - -<p>The meter touched fifty for an instant and then went on up toward -sixty. It did not stop at the green line that indicated two Terran G, -but passed it and proceeded on toward seventy feet per. It climbed to -eighty, passed, approached ninety, passed, and still climbed with a -precise linearity that made the men admire the steady hand on the main -power lever in spite of whose hand it was.</p> - -<p>At one hundred feet per second per second, Hammond said: "When is that -dame going to stop?"</p> - -<p>"Call her down," suggested Larry.</p> - -<p>"Better wait. No use making her nervous this close to Pluto. Bawl her -out and she's likely to make the wrong move—and one move would be too -much!"</p> - -<p>The pressure of 4-G held them to their padded seats, and their heads -were fixed immobile in the head braces, all watching the dial climb. -It passed one-thirty, went on up the dial to one-forty, and then the -voice of Sandra Drake said, weakly:</p> - -<p>"When are you fools going to stop?"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Hammond gaped. "Who? Us?"</p> - -<p>"Who else?" snapped Drake.</p> - -<p>The meter touched one-fifty.</p> - -<p>"We're not doing anything. Level off, Drake, or you'll squash us flat!"</p> - -<p>"<i>You</i> level off. I haven't had the power lever since I adjusted it -before I hit the main switch. I can't even lift my arm now; I didn't -expect you to run this heap of junk from up there and so I didn't -adjust the arm rest."</p> - -<p>The dial crept up past one-sixty.</p> - -<p>"But we're not running it from here," yelled McBride. "We haven't -touched a thing since Hammond told you to take it up at twenty feet -per."</p> - -<p>The automatic respirators started to work, pumping their rib-cages -in rhythm with their own breathing urges, and they sank into the -enveloping folds of the elastomer cushions which supported their -bodies. The meter hit one-seventy and passed it.</p> - -<p>"Then who <i>is</i> running the soup up?" came back the labored voice of -Sandra Drake. "If this is just a joke, cut it. I can't take much more."</p> - -<p>"You—and all of us are doing well to take what we're getting now," -stormed McBride. "Who—"</p> - -<p>"Something's amiss somewhere," said Hammond thoughtfully. "At this -point, any gagster would quit. Look at the meter. One hundred and -ninety feet per! Almost 7-G! Uh—"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Black waves and dizziness came, shrouding little dazzles of colored -pinpoints that danced before the eyes. The meter touched two hundred -feet per second per second acceleration, and then the drive was cut -with a snap. The compressed elastomer rebounded, almost throwing the -men from their chairs, but the cover bars held them in.</p> - -<p>The drive was completely off; acceleration zero.</p> - -<p>"Drake! Get the inertia switch in again!" called Hammond.</p> - -<p>"Going in," came the weakened voice of the pilot.</p> - -<p>The original twenty feet per started again, and it began to climb, just -as it did before. "Stay alive," said Hammond to Drake. "We need you to -shove the inertia switch in if nothing else."</p> - -<p>"I don't care to die," came her hard voice. "I'll keep alive. You pack -of fools figure out what's wrong with your invention, that's all I ask."</p> - -<p>"Can you crank the inertia switch down to about 5-G?" asked Pete. "Make -it a hundred and fifty feet per. Then sit there and shove it in every -time it comes out until we can get out of Pluto's grip. We've got to -have a stable place before we can do any fixing."</p> - -<p>"You and your jackrabbit drive," jeered Sandra Drake. "Concocted by the -best brains in space. Baloney—the best space in brains, I call 'em."</p> - -<p>"Some day," promised McBride, "I'm going to spank that woman—with a -hairbrush!"</p> - -<p>The meter rode up steadily to one-fifty, and then dropped to zero with -a click. The oil switch closed again, and the meter started up the -scale once again. This time McBride timed it.</p> - -<p>"Steve," he said. "We're running at twenty per, original setting, and -the acceleration is increasing at the rate of twenty feet per, also. -That means our velocity is increasing at the rate of twenty feet per -second per second per second."</p> - -<p>"Something screwy. Larry, grab a few tools and ride below and fix that -inertia switch so that it will close automatically. No use making -Drake sit there punching on that control button every seven and one -half seconds. We're going to be running this way for a couple of hours -before we get to safe space."</p> - -<p>"A couple of hours?" groaned Drake. "Listen, geniuses, is there any -reason why I couldn't flatten this chair out? This is killing me."</p> - -<p>"Look, Larry, make that switch cut out at 2-G. Sandra, set your drive -for 1-G. It'll jerk our guts to pieces, but we'll be doing about -the same as any ship under a 1-G drive—no, we'll be doing better. -Something in this heap is making us accelerate our acceleration; we're -working on the second derivative. That means—"</p> - -<p>"That means," put in McBride, "that we're running on the rate of -change of acceleration, which is the rate of change of velocity. Now -under this drive, we have a new factor, which we can call 'R' and -which stands for the rate of change of acceleration. Then, since our -acceleration is increasing with respect to time, the linear equation: -V=AT no longer holds to express our velocity at the end of T seconds. -Our first equation under this rule becomes one to find the acceleration -after T seconds under R rate of change of acceleration. Follow? We have -Equation One:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>(1) A=RT</p></div> - -<p>Then to find the true velocity at the end of T seconds and so forth, we -take the integral of that, and we have:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>(2) V=1/2RT<sup>2</sup></p></div> - -<p>To get the distance covered in T seconds at R rate of change, we -integrate once more and come up with ... ah, let's see—Oh, sure:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>(3) D=1/6RT<sup>3</sup></p></div> - -<p>Is that clear?"</p> - -<p>"I'd like to see that one worked out on a blackboard," said Jimmy. "At -the present, I'll take your word for it. What I'm interested in right -now is: does this factor 'R' increase with the power setting?"</p> - -<p>"Drake just lifted it to thirty feet per," said Hammond, "and I've been -timing it. So far, it does."</p> - -<p>"Steve," said McBride, "if we can figure out some way of keeping -ourselves from getting killed as the acceleration hits the upper -brackets, we'll have a drive that will get us places like fury. Think -fast, brother."</p> - -<p>Hammond looked up, just as the acceleration reached a peak, and it -snapped his head sharply. "<i>Whew</i>," he said. "This is fine stuff, -but we couldn't run anywhere very long this way. We'd shake the whole -crate loose." He was thoughtful for a minute. "Don't suppose that -blackboard mind of yours could figure out our course constants from -this saw-toothed curve we're running?"</p> - -<p>"Sure," grinned McBride. "Since the thing is not increasing constantly, -but is returning to zero accel each time and then building up linearly -to peak, our over-all, long-time acceleration is equivalent to the -average acceleration. Besides, what difference does it make? We'll get -there somehow, and we can probably plot well enough to keep from doing -a lot of return-chasing to hit the lens."</p> - -<p>"O.K., but we're going to have to figure a way out of this. I couldn't -stand knowing anything like this drive without trying to make it -practical."</p> - -<p>"Wait until we can talk without getting our tongues bitten off by this -drive of yours, and we'll go to work on it."</p> - -<p>McBride said: "And I'd say let's do it quick! Enid needs me—"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sandra Drake forced the jack-rabbitting ship into a cockeyed orbit -about Pluto after a couple of hours. They had nosebleed, jittery -nerves, aching muscles, and voracious appetites by the time the drive -was cut. They ate, smoked, took showers, and then decided to call a -conference.</p> - -<p>Hammond opened it by saying: "There's one quick way to do this. -It's on everybody's tongue, but I have the floor and I'll voice it -first. To keep from getting squashed by our own weight under a few -thousand feet per, we need something to take up the shock—something to -counterbalance the gravity-apparent. Jimmy, how many mechanogravitic -generators have we aboard?"</p> - -<p>"Two, including the one we're running in the drive right now. It is as -big, however."</p> - -<p>"How's the output of our patched-together alphatron?"</p> - -<p>"Plenty. The coil of the E-grav was much oversize, and since electrons -will rush in where alphons fear to tread, we've plenty of soup."</p> - -<p>"Then we'll set the other mech-grav up in the nose, and extend the warp -down to envelop the ship. Right?"</p> - -<p>"Right. And now for some kind of safety factor? Supposing something -goes blooey?" asked Pete. "And how do we maintain the relationship -between the drive's power and the counter-drive's attraction?"</p> - -<p>"Weight-driven power controls for the counter-drive. Inertia switches -for safety. Interlocking circuits for every factor so that either the -drive failure will knock out the counter-drive, or vice versa. We'll -build this like an electric lock, so that the whole shebang must be -right on the button before she'll move. Then the failure of any part -to perform will stop all parts simultaneously. It'll probably be jerky -at first, but the prime function is to get Mac to Station 1, and from -there on in we can tinker with this thing until hell freezes over. -O.K., let's hustle the mech-grav into the nose."</p> - -<p>Installing the mech-grav generator in the nose of the ship was not -a difficult job, since it weighed exactly nothing with the ship in -an orbit about Pluto. But the intricate job of hooking the equipment -together was to be more difficult.</p> - -<p>They rammed holes in the bulk-heads to pass cables. They tore out -whole sections of unimportant wiring circuits to get wire for the -interlocking circuits—and when the terminals were there, the relays -and inertia switches had to be made or converted from existing -equipment.</p> - -<p>Sandra Drake was of little help. She could make the ship perform to -within a thousandth of an inch of its design, and perhaps add a few -items that the designers hadn't included, but her knowledge of the -works was small. She hadn't thought it necessary or desirable to -understand, beyond the rudiments, how the drive worked.</p> - -<p>In fact, up to the present time she had scorned the knowledge of any -higher intricacies; her idea had always been that men were paid to -think these things out and she was in a position to pay them for their -knowledge. Let them do it, and give them hell if it was not right. Her -hiring them automatically gave her the right to order them around like -slaves, and since the laws that govern space travel are such that a -ship's pilot or owner may demand attention to the ship, Sandra demanded -such attention, needed or not.</p> - -<p>But this was the second time in less than a year that she had seen men -working with equipment. Before, it had been her fault, and she had -sniffed at their labors in a scornful attitude, gaining their hatred as -she had gained the dislike of so many others.</p> - -<p>This time it was slightly different. She had been sandbagged into -this job and now it seemed as though her own life depended upon the -clearness of the minds of the men who worked over the equipment.</p> - -<p>So she entered this strange world of nuts and bolts and small tools -strewn around in profusion, and stood amazed at the order that was -being worked out of chaos. It was apparent to her that some semblance -to order must be present, since they knew where to turn to pick up the -right tool, and because the right part was always less than a foot from -their ready hands.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A headstrong, spoiled brat she may have been, but Sandra Drake was -by no means unintelligent. After John McBride had cut off a tiny -lathe-turning just in time to hand it to Pete, who seemed to need it at -exactly that moment to fit into his instrument, Sandra said to McBride: -"Is there any pattern to all this mess?"</p> - -<p>"If there weren't, we'd really be in a mess." He opened the chuck, -advanced the rod a few inches, and started to turn the rod down to size -again.</p> - -<p>"This," said Sandra in that infuriating voice, "is order, neatness, -and efficiency?"</p> - -<p>"We like it," answered McBride, his eyes on the cross-feed vernier. "It -may not look like a drawing room, but we know what we're doing."</p> - -<p>"Do you? Is this a sample of how the place looks every time the -<i>Haywire Queen</i> goes out to experiment?"</p> - -<p>"Undoubtedly."</p> - -<p>"Why couldn't it be neat and clean?"</p> - -<p>"Because we can't replace every tool back in the cabinet when we are -ready to lay it down for a minute. Because it is far better to run -cutting chips all over the floor and sweep 'em up once instead of -running the broom every seven seconds after each chip. Because it is -easier to work this way."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Sandra, unimpressed, "the <i>Haywire Queen</i> seems deserving -of her name."</p> - -<p>"There have been a lot of ticklish space problems fought out in her," -replied McBride. "Just as we're fighting one now."</p> - -<p>"But where are your drawings? Where are your plans? Where are your -calculations?"</p> - -<p>"Our drawings will be made by draftsmen when we make the thing work," -answered McBride. "No sense in having a sheaf of drawings when we'll -change the thing a dozen times before it is perfected. Our plans -are step-by-step, and any result from one step may change our next -step. Our calculations and mathematical deductions will be handled by -brilliant mathematicians who can twist simple formulas around to fit -the observed data by adding or subtracting abstract terms that fit the -case."</p> - -<p>"Sounds slightly slipshod to me."</p> - -<p>McBride cut the part from the bar and handed it to Pete. "Enough?" he -asked, and Pete nodded over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>"You can start on part two," he called.</p> - -<p>McBride replaced the bar with a larger one and started to work it into -shape. "We don't need drawings," he said. "I know what Pete wants and -how they should fit together and they're fairly simple parts. He knows -what he wants and knows that I know also, so why should we make a lot -of sketches for something trivial?"</p> - -<p>"It seems to me that this is far from trivial," said Sandra pettishly. -"You're playing with the lives of us all."</p> - -<p>"Your life wasn't worth a peanut when you tried to run through the -lens," said McBride. "Why quibble now?"</p> - -<p>"I lived through it," said Drake.</p> - -<p>"You'll live through this, perhaps," said McBride. "Besides, we're not -too worried about our own lives. We're all willing to take a chance on -them for Enid."</p> - -<p>"Yeah?" drawled Sandra sourly. "How about the rest of them? That's only -speaking for yourself."</p> - -<p>Steve Hammond called from across the room: "What he said still goes. -He'd do as much for me!"</p> - -<p>"Just a big bunch of mutual admirers," sneered Sandra. "Always sticking -together in a pinch."</p> - -<p>"What's wrong with that?"</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you think of your wife a long time ago instead of worrying -now. Fine show of nerves for the public consumption!"</p> - -<p>"Miss Drake, as far as we are concerned, you haven't been properly -treated. Somewhere in the Good Book is a reference to sparing the rod -and spoiling the child. Do your parents twist their faces in anguish -every time they see you? They should. Anyone who has foisted upon this -solar system a stinking little, unfeeling rotter like yourself should -hate to be alone with their thoughts. Now get out of here and let us -alone."</p> - -<p>Sandra moved back at the harshness of his voice. McBride looked behind -her and instinctively put out a hand to stop her; but Sandra thought -that the move meant violence and moved back faster. She collided with a -dangling wire from the alphatron and went rigid. She toppled, as stiff -as a board.</p> - -<p>"Great Space!" exploded Hammond. "Jimmy, how much was that?"</p> - -<p>"Nine hundred alphons," answered Jimmy, looking at the meters on the -alphatron and making a quick calculation. "Not enough to harm. She's -just had all of her voluntary nervous system paralyzed."</p> - -<p>McBride stooped, picked her up, and carried her to a work-chair, which -he kicked horizontal with his foot and dropped her into it. He went -to the medicine cabinet and filled a hypo which he shot into her arm. -Gradually her too-regular breathing became humanly irregular again and -she moved to get up.</p> - -<p>"Stay there," said McBride.</p> - -<p>"Rest a bit," advised Hammond.</p> - -<p>"And remember next time," warned Jimmy, "that this kind of a place is -no place to walk backwards. Another two hundred alphons—and that is -far from impossible—and you'd have been extremely dead." He wiped his -forehead with a dirty cloth, mopping the beads of nervous perspiration -away.</p> - -<p>"I suppose that would have left you without a pilot," said Sandra. Her -sharp remark lacked her usual conviction, however, and she realized -that it fell flat. She got out of the chair and left abruptly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Well, I'll be—"</p> - -<p>"Be careful," said Larry. "She isn't worth it."</p> - -<p>"I'm going to take the bad taste out of my mouth by calling the Lens," -announced McBride.</p> - -<p>"Go ahead," offered Pete. "We'll polish off here and by the time you're -through, we'll make a stab at it!"</p> - -<p>McBride got a through connection to Station 1, and Dr. Caldwell came to -the phone.</p> - -<p>"Doc," asked McBride. "How's Enid?"</p> - -<p>"Touch and go, lad. We're still fighting."</p> - -<p>"Bad?"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid to say 'no' to that one," answered Caldwell in a tight -voice.</p> - -<p>"What does she say?"</p> - -<p>"She's been in a coma ever since the fall, except for a minute or two -in which she called for you. John, I shouldn't have sent you away."</p> - -<p>"Don't worry about that one. After all, you didn't know she was going -to take a header."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, but—"</p> - -<p>"You fix her up and we'll forget it."</p> - -<p>"But suppose—"</p> - -<p>"Doc, is it that bad?"</p> - -<p>"I can not deny that she would be infinitely better off if you were -here. She needs an emotional lift."</p> - -<p>"I'm trying."</p> - -<p>"I know, lad, but the next ship off of Pluto is in five days and then -four more days of flight at a killing drive. Nine interminable days."</p> - -<p>McBride debated the advisability of telling Caldwell of their -experiment, but decided against it. If he said anything about the -possibility of getting there sooner, Caldwell might tell Enid on the -chance that it might do her some good. On the other hand, if Enid -thought he were coming, and he did not come, the shock—</p> - -<p>"O.K., Doc. We'll get there somehow."</p> - -<p>"We'll keep fighting," said Caldwell.</p> - -<p>He hung up the phone as Hammond spoke into the communicator. "Sunward -at thirty feet per," he said.</p> - -<p>"Thirty feet per," answered Drake. "And may we not get burned!"</p> - -<p>"Trusting soul," observed Hammond.</p> - -<p>Sandra thrust the main lever home with a savage motion. Deftly she -juggled the steering levers until the ship pointed at Sol. "We're off," -she said. "Hold your hats!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The accelerometer climbed by the second. It hit one hundred feet per, -and then slowed in its climb, approaching one twenty in an exponential -curve. In the other room, a step-by-step switch continued to click off -the contacts, and the generators in the turbine room whined higher and -higher up the scale. Minutes passed and became a half hour.</p> - -<p>"We're in," said McBride, with a deep exhalation. "But how in the name -of sin can we tell what our acceleration is?"</p> - -<p>"The Hooke type of accelerometer is useless when we neutralize the -gravity-apparent," agreed Hammond. "We're going to have some inventing -to do."</p> - -<p>"I wonder what the limit of our acceleration is," said Jimmy. "It can't -be infinite, because the mechanogravitic generator above can take only -so much—"</p> - -<p>The inertia switches went out with startling clicks, and the -weight-loaded rheostats whirred home to zero. Relays danced madly as -the acceleration went to zero once more.</p> - -<p>"Right back where we started from," came the pained voice of Sandra -Drake. "Can't you birds think of something practical?"</p> - -<p>She thrust the main control home once more, hooking it up to the -automatic circuit that Larry had installed. The acceleration began -again. "Now we'll have some more jackrabbit drive—but with a longer -jump," said Drake cynically.</p> - -<p>"We'll have to limp all the way to the Lens on this drive," said -McBride. "It isn't too good, but I can't see—"</p> - -<p>"I'm tired of this jerky stuff," said Sandra Drake entering the room. -"It seems to me that you should be able to duplicate the mess you have -here by something similar up in the nose."</p> - -<p>"Yes?" asked Steve Hammond politely. He was interested but not -impressed.</p> - -<p>"What I'm trying to say is this: Wouldn't a set-up similar to this -space-eating drive also be capable of exerting mechanical attraction, -thereby getting you a constantly increasing neutralizing force?"</p> - -<p>Steve thought that one over. "Not bad. Not bad at all!"</p> - -<p>Jimmy jumped to his feet. "It'll work, Steve. We'll have to induce -the mechanogravitic force in a cupralum bar by secondary gravitic -radiation, but it is a known phenomenon. Drakey, that's top!"</p> - -<p>"Except for one thing," said Larry. "We're fresh out of magnetogravitic -generators. Aside from that, we can run this heap all the way to -Sirius."</p> - -<p>Pete said: "Yeah, and if we did have one, we'd still be short a few -thousand alphons. The alphatron won't carry another generator, nor will -the little one upstairs." He grinned at Sandra. "We're not tossing cold -water on your suggestion. It'll work—but not right now."</p> - -<p>"Then it was good?" asked Drake with the first question of honest awe -she had used in years.</p> - -<p>"Perfect," said McBride, cheerfully. "But not quite complete. We -won't censure you for that, however, since we know that you haven't -been hanging around space-warp engineers for the last ten years. You -couldn't have known that this mag-grav generator will do service on -both ends. All we have to do is to direct the output on a two-lobe -pattern instead of a single-lobe pattern, and set our induction bar -up above in the field of the mechanogravitic we've already got there. -Jimmy, change the output pattern of the mag-grav and we'll hike aloft -with the cupralum bar." He bowed at Sandra. "Thanks to that one, we'll -be moving right along!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Pilot Drake sent the power lever home at thirty feet per, and watched -the accelerator climb to exactly thirty, where it stopped and hung. -Minutes passed, and the meter read constant.</p> - -<p>Steve Hammond smiled wider and wider as the minutes added into a -quarter hour. "I think our cupralum hull is helping," he said.</p> - -<p>"How?" asked Pete.</p> - -<p>"Why, it is collecting enough leakage-warp to create a nice large warp -of its own—in which we now travel, and in which the accelerometer -reads only that factor 'R' of Mac's. That meter reads the rate of -change of acceleration. Drake, step it up to sixty."</p> - -<p>Sandra advanced the drive, and the meter went up to sixty even.</p> - -<p>"We're on the ball," said Hammond.</p> - -<p>"We sure are," said McBride, passing a forefinger over his cheek. "It's -hot in here."</p> - -<p>"I know. And you can call the Lens and tell the Doc we're on our way."</p> - -<p>"I tried that. The lines were busy, so I shot 'em a 'gram. They know -now that we're coming."</p> - -<p>"I wonder if your math is correct," said Steve.</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"If it is," explained Steve, "we'll be halfway to the Lens in three -hours from start—no, wait a minute. We're running at sixty feet now. -That means a little better than two hours! But if they are correct, -we'll be hitting almost two times the speed of light. That is not -possible."</p> - -<p>"I think we'll do it," said McBride. "After all, we're in a space warp, -and no one really knows whether the laws of the universe hold in a -space warp. Drake hit the Lens at about ten thousand miles per second, -was stopped in time to get to one of the fore lens stations, which must -have been terrific deceleration—unthinkably high—and it didn't even -muss her hair. We'll know in a bit when we are supposed to hit the -speed of light."</p> - -<p>"Then for the love of Mike, what is our limiting velocity?"</p> - -<p>"The same as any of the gravitic spectra. Gravitic phenomena propagates -at the speed of light raised to the power of 2.71828—That's our -limiting velocity."</p> - -<p>"Want to make any bets?"</p> - -<p>"I don't mind. My guess is as good as yours."</p> - -<p>"Better," admitted Steve.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Below, in the pilot room, Sandra Drake was having a state of nerves. -She was alone in the driver's seat of a ship destined to exceed the -speed of light, and she was scared. For some reason, the men who -professed to shy at danger were arguing the possibilities of running -above the speed of light while she, who had lived the life of an -adventuresome girl, a daredevil, was worrying. She listened through the -communicator at their argument and cursed under her breath.</p> - -<p>They were going at it in a pedantic manner, hurling equations and -theorems and postulates at one another like lawyers with a case for -the supreme court, not men who were heading for God-Knows-What at a -headlong pace under an ever-increasing acceleration.</p> - -<p>There were all sorts of arguments as to the aspect of the sky as the -speed of light was approached. And how it would look at a velocity -of more than light. This went on for some time, with Steve Hammond -holding out for blackout and John McBride holding for a sky that -crawled forward due to the angle-vectors created by the ship's passage -across the light rays, until the entire sky appeared before them—all -the stars in the sky would be in the hemisphere in front of them, no -constellation recognizable.</p> - -<p>"But your supposition does not recognize the doppler effect," objected -Hammond. "Visible light will be out of the visible spectrum."</p> - -<p>"True enough. But solar radiation extends from down low in the -electromagnetic scale to very very high in the extra-hard UV. Visible -spectra will be dopplered into the UV, all right, but the radio waves -will have an apparent frequency of light, and we shall see the stars by -that, I think."</p> - -<p>"With no change in color?" asked Hammond skeptically.</p> - -<p>"There will be a change in color, naturally. We'll observe them in -accordance with whatever long waves they emit; they will in no way -resemble the familiar stars we know."</p> - -<p>"How's a poor devil going to navigate at any rate?" asked Larry. "With -everything out of place—or invisible—what's he going to use for -signposts?"</p> - -<p>"In normal usage, the super drive will be fine. We've been using -autopilots for years and years, setting up the whole course from -take-off to the last half hour of landing. We can still do it. We'll be -flying blind, but so what? We fly pretty blind as it is; no one gives a -rap about the sky outside. Instrument flying is our best bet."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Hammond, "we'll see it soon enough. The color of the stars -behind us are changing right now."</p> - -<p>"They should. We're running at three quarters of light—and, Stevey -Boy, they're still visible!"</p> - -<p>Silently they watched the sky. Dead below them, a tiny black circle -appeared and the stars that once occupied this circle were flowing -away from it radially. It expanded, and the region of flow spread -circularly, and the bowl of the sky moved like a fluid thing towards -the top of the ship until the stars at their nose were crowding -together. Stars appeared there, new stars caused by the crossing of -electromagnetic waves from the rear, and the sky took on an alien sight.</p> - -<p>For a long time the stars seemed to tighten in their positions above -the ship, and then the warning bell rang and the ship swapped ends -easily and the bowl of the sky was below them.</p> - -<p>Then it began to return to the fore observation point of the <i>Haywire -Queen</i> as the velocity of the ship dropped. The crawl started, and -the black circle diminished until it was gone. The stars continued -to regain their familiar color as the <i>Haywire Queen</i> approached the -normal velocities used by mankind.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Five hours after their start, the <i>Haywire Queen</i> slid clumsily to a -stop beside Station 1 and made a landing. She arced a bit, since the -charge-generating equipment did not have the refinements of the Lens -flitters for making the ship assume the charge of the destined station. -But the arc was not too bad, and within a minute after the <i>Haywire -Queen</i> touched the landing deck, John McBride was knocking on the door -of Dr. Caldwell's office in the hospital.</p> - -<p>Caldwell came out of the inner door to answer the summons, and he -looked up at McBride and went dead-white.</p> - -<p>"Mac! It's you?"</p> - -<p>"Naturally," smiled McBride. "How's Enid?"</p> - -<p>"How did you get here?" demanded Doc.</p> - -<p>"That's a long yarn, Doc, and it includes a whole engineering program, -exceeding the velocity of light, and using a space warp as a traveling -companion. How's Enid?"</p> - -<p>"She was none too good, but we'll have her through now. Come on in!"</p> - -<p>"First tell Tommy that the <i>Haywire Queen</i> is on the landing deck and -that they're to have anything they need if we have to kill the lens to -give it to them!"</p> - -<p>"I heard that, John," said Tommy, coming in the door. "It's done." He -turned on his heel and left immediately.</p> - -<p>John approached the bedside. "Enid," he said softly.</p> - -<p>Enid's eyes fluttered. A wave of pain passed across her face and she -tried to move. McBride looked at the doctor.</p> - -<p>"Go ahead, John," said Doc.</p> - -<p>"Enid. I'm here. It's John."</p> - -<p>Enid opened her mouth, gasped once, and said in a very weak voice: -"John? Here?"</p> - -<p>"Nowhere else."</p> - -<p>"But you ... were on ... Pluto—?"</p> - -<p>McBride thought that one over. How could he explain? He decided not -to, and said: "I've been coming back for a long time, Enid. I'm here -now—that's all that counts."</p> - -<p>"Yes, John," said Enid.</p> - -<p>"She'll be all right now," said Caldwell. "That's what she needed."</p> - -<p>Another wave of pain crossed Enid's face, and a nurse came with a -filled hypo.</p> - -<p>Caldwell drew McBride out. "Another half hour will see her through," he -told John. "You wait here and everything will be all right. I know that -now, thank God."</p> - -<p>Caldwell left McBride to re-enter Enid's room.</p> - -<p>Steve Hammond and Sandra Drake entered the office. "How is she?" asked -Hammond.</p> - -<p>"Doc says she's going to be all right, now. I've seen her and Doc says -she's perking up already."</p> - -<p>"Good!" said Steve. "Drake, that was a nice piece of navigating. You -hit Station 1 right on the nose."</p> - -<p>Sandra felt a whole library of emotions, mixed together. She smiled a -sickly smile and said: "I should have. I've been here before, remember?"</p> - -<p>Hammond ignored the statement because he thought it sounded too much -like bluster. "Drake," he said, "the <i>Haywire Queen</i> is about ready to -hop for Terra. Do you feel up to running it in?"</p> - -<p>"Steve," snapped Sandra Drake, "I'm not going to let any idiot male -handle the <i>Haywire Queen</i>, and don't you forget it! After all, I'm -the only pilot in the solar system that knows how to run her! I'll -personally strangle both you and whomever you think you're going to -get for that job, understand?"</p> - -<p>Sandra turned and left.</p> - -<p>"What in the name of the seven hells has got that dame?" asked McBride.</p> - -<p>"There are a lot of ways to kill a cat besides choking it to death -with cream," said Hammond thoughtfully, "but the latter way is just as -effective and sometimes a lot easier. Our she-barracuda has just hit -the one thing that she can't fight."</p> - -<p>"Huh?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. We gave her credit for doing a good job. Willing, honest credit. -No matter how she may profess to despise our opinion, she can't yell -'Liar' at us because that would mean that she thought that the praise -meant nothing. She's got to agree with us, or deny that she did -anything worthy. And she's been living in a world of her own, trying to -prove that she is the stuff. So—get me?"</p> - -<p>"Uh-huh, I suppose so. How're you set?"</p> - -<p>"Pretty good. We've swiped all of your spare alphatrons and a couple -more gravitic generators, and we'll butter the job up a little so that -we won't worry about over-loading the alphatrons. That'll take us an -hour or so. How're you doing?"</p> - -<p>"I dunno. Doc said wait here—and dammit, I'm running out of -fingernails, cigarettes, and patience."</p> - -<p>"Well hang tight. I'll be back from time to time to see how you're -getting along—Hi, Doc? What's the good word?"</p> - -<p>"It's good," sighed Dr. Caldwell.</p> - -<p>"Honest?" yelled McBride. "Enid's O.K.?"</p> - -<p>"Fine. From here on in it's a breeze. Oh, I forgot to tell you. She's -had her son."</p> - -<p>"She's what?" yelled McBride.</p> - -<p>"Son. John McBride Junior, I presume. He's an ugly, carrot-colored, -monkey-faced, repulsively wrinkled little monster, but Enid says he's -the image of the old man."</p> - -<p>McBride looked at Caldwell, and then rushed out to Enid's room.</p> - -<p>"Image of the old man, hey?" asked Hammond.</p> - -<p>"He'll develop," said Dr. Caldwell. "Junior is a Latent Image!"</p> - - -<p class="ph2">THE END.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LATENT IMAGE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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