Where I Wasn't Going
churkled quietly, pitting its strengthagainst the mighty monster to which it was so firmly tied.
Two hours were spent in testing circuits, each one exhaustively. ThenIshie turned to Mike.
"We need still yet another test that we have not provided. A straingauge to find out how much thrust a mosquito puts out. There's one inthe physics lab. I'll run get it."
"You will _not_," said Mike. "Genius you may be, but proton-proofyou're not. We can rig that right here."
Walking over to the spare parts locker, Mike brought back a completereadout display panel, a spare from one of the Cow's bridge consoles;and quickly connected it in to the data link on which the vocoderoperated. Then, carefully instructing the computer as to the requireddisplay, he settled back.
"That'll do it," he said. "The Cow can tell us all we need to knowright on that panel--about acceleration, lack of it, or change of itthat we may cause by changing the parameters of our experiment. Thoseracks were checked out to stand up under eighty gees," he added."Typical overspecification. They never said what would happen to thepersonnel under those conditions."
Ishie turned the Confusor off and then back on, and watched thedisplay gauge rise to the six hundred forty mark, and then show thefraction above it .12128. Then carefully, ever so infinitesimally, headjusted a knob on the device. The readout sank back towards zero,coming to rest reading 441.3971.
"We'll have to put a vernier control on this phase circuit," Ishiesaid to himself. "It jumped thirty per-cent, and I scarcely breathedon it."
After a few more checks on the operation of the phase control, heturned to the power control for the magnetic field. Carefully, Ishielowered the field strength, eye on the readout panel. As the fieldstrength lowered, the reading increased.
The indication was that by lowering the field strength only ten percent, he had increased the thrust to sixteen hundred pounds--which,he felt, was close to the tolerance of the machine structure.
Carefully he increased the field strength again. Faithfully thereading followed it down the scale.
Then he had another thought. Running the field strength down and thepressure up, and again arriving at sixteen hundred pounds, he turnedoff the Confusor, waited a few moments, and turned it back on.
The reading remained zero.
Apparently, then a decrease in field strength would cause an increasein thrust; but the original field strength was necessary in order toinitiate the thrust field.
Carefully he nudged the field strength back up, and suddenly therewere seven hundred ten pounds indicated thrust.
Thrust could apparently be initiated by a field strength a few percent lower, but not much lower, than the original operating point.
* * * * *
Captain Naylor Andersen arrived on the bridge with an accusing air,but feeling refreshed. He had slept longer than he intended--andthough he had asked Bessie to call him when she came back on duty twohours earlier, he had not been called.
"You needed the sleep, captain," she told him unrepentant. "I checkedwith the Cow. The flare's predicted to continue for another eighthours. We're simply in standby."
However, various observatories on Earth had not been asleep. Withinfifteen minutes of the time he reached the bridge, a message from U.N.Headquarters chattered in over the teletype.
"Tracking stations report your orbital discontinuity too great to havebeen achieved by jet action of nitrogen escaping from Hot Rod. Hot Rodpressures insufficient to achieve your present apparent acceleration.Please explain discrepancy between these reports and your ownsummation of ten hours previous. Suggest close and continualobservation of Project Hot Rod. Suspect, repeat strongly suspect,possibility of sabotage. End message."
Nails Andersen stared at the sheet that the com officer had placed inhis hands. Then he pressed the intercom to the morgue.
"Dr. Kimball. Please report to the bridge. Dr. P.E.R. Kimball. Pleasereport to the bridge immediately."
Then he turned to Bessie. "Ask the Cow for an orbit computation fromthe time of the ... er ... meteor last night."
Under Bessie's practiced, computer-minded fingers, the answer wantedcame quickly--a displayed string of figures, each to three decimalplaces, accompanied by a second display on the captain's consoleshowing the old equatorial orbit across a grid projection of theEarth's surface to a point of departure over the mid-Atlantic where itbegan curving ever farther north, up across the tip of South America,very slightly off course.
The captain glanced at the display of Hot Rod and its taut-cable, andrealized with a sickening sense of unreality that no jet action onHot Rod could have caused it to lead the station in this northerlydirection; and that instead it was placidly trailing behind. It wasnow farther south of the Space Lab than its original position; buttheir orbit had been displaced to the north.
Perk appeared beside the console, but the captain ignored theastronomer for a moment longer, while he leaned back thinking.
What could be the answer? A leak in the Space Lab itself? That wouldgive acceleration; minor, not to have triggered an alarm--it shouldhave triggered an alarm--but acceleration. Sufficient for theoff-orbit shown? He did a brief calculation in his head. It wouldn'ttake much. Very little, for the time that had passed--Very well, then.He put down a leak in his mind as a possibility. Now, water or air? Itcould be either, if his reasoning this far were correct. He looked up.
"Have the Cow display barometric readings for each section of the rimand for each compartment in the central hub," he said briefly toBessie; and to the astronomer, "Dr. Kimball, take that side seat atthe computer console and check our progress on this orbitaldeviation," and he gestured at the display on his screen.
Perk moved to the post with only a nod.
* * * * *
The barometric displays held constant, with only fractional deviationsthat might have been imposed by the spin of the big wheel, or error inthe instruments themselves. Balanced against temperature readings,they worked out to possible fractions of gain or loss so small as tobe insignificant, indicating only the inaccuracies of measurement thatinevitably occur in comparing the readings of a number of instruments.
The captain had hardly digested the readings displayed by the computerwhen Perk looked up with a puzzled frown.
"The computer records a continuous acceleration over the past elevenhours and forty-three minutes," he said, "and attributes it," helooked even more puzzled, "to a magneto-ionic effect?" There was adefinite question in his voice.
"It's only about six hundred forty pounds," he added. "It must be anexternal effect caused by the flare."
"Please investigate the effect as thoroughly as possible," the captaintold Perk, then dictated a message to the com officer.
"'To U.N. Headquarters, Earth, from Captain Naylor Andersen,commanding Space Lab One. Original assumption that disaster wasattributable to meteoric impact on Project Hot Rod appears mistaken.Investigation indicates we are under acceleration from an externalmagneto-ionic effect which is exerting about--'" he called to Perk."Did you say six hundred forty pounds?"
The astronomer nodded, and the captain continued, "'Which is exertingabout six hundred forty pound pressure against this satellite. We arenow working out corrective measures and will inform you immediatelythey are prepared. If your observatories can give us any advice,please message at once. End.'"
Then the captain depressed his intercom switch to the morgue. "Dr.Chi. Please report to the bridge. Repeat. Dr. Chi Tung. Please reportto the bridge at once."
His own intercom hummed, and a voice came on. "Dr. Chi Tung is not inthe morgue. He left with Mr. Blackhawk some time ago."
The captain frowned, but pushed the engineering room intercom. "Is Dr.Chi with you, Mr. Blackhawk?" he asked, and when Mike's voiceanswered, "Yes, sir," he said, "Will you both report to the bridge atonce, please?"
When the two arrived, only a little tardily, on the bridge, thecaptain addressed Ishie.
"You heard
of the disaster last night?" The physicist nodded. "Weassumed then," the captain told him, "that a meteor had caused thedisturbance. That it had gone through the balloon making a holethrough which the balloon's nitrogen was escaping, making a jet actionand accelerating the ship.
"It seems, however, that we are under acceleration, and that theacceleration is too great to be such jet action, since Hot Rod doesnot have sufficient pressure.
"The computer reports that the acceleration is derived from anexternal magneto-ionic effect. Would such an effect be a result of aflare?" he asked.
"I believe it could, captain. I should have to do a bit of math,but...."
"We will assume, then, that the computer is correct," the captain toldhim. "Could such