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Arcot headed toward one edge of the star, and poured power into the molecular drive. The ship shot forward under an additional five and a half gravities of acceleration. Their velocity had been five thousand miles per second when they entered hypers.p.a.ce, and they were swiftly adding to their original velocity.
They did not, of course, feel the pull of the sun, since they were in free fall in its field; they could only feel the five and a half gravities of the molecular drive. Had they been able to experience the pull of the star, they would have been crushed by their own weight.
Their speed was mounting as they drew nearer to the star, and Arcot was forcing the ship on with all the additional power he could get. But he knew that the only hope they had was to get the ship in a closed ellipse around the star, and a closed ellipse meant that they would be forever bound to the star as a planet! Helpless, for not even the t.i.tanic power of the _Ancient Mariner_ could enable them to escape!
As the dull red of the dead sun ballooned toward them, Arcot said: "I think we'll make an orbit, all right, but we're going to be awfully close to the surface of that thing!"
The others were quiet; they merely watched Arcot and the star as Arcot made swift movements with the controls, doing all he could to establish them in an orbit that would be fairly safe.
It seemed like an eternity--five and a half gravities of acceleration held the men in their chairs almost as well as the straps of the antiacceleration units that bound them. When a man weighs better than half a ton, he doesn't feel like moving much.
Fuller whispered to Morey out of the corner of his sagging mouth. "What on Earth--I mean, what in s.p.a.ce is that thing? We're within only a few hundred miles, you said, so it must be pretty small. How could it pull us around like this?"
"It's a dead white dwarf--a 'black dwarf', you might say," Morey replied. "As the density of such matter increases, the volume of the star depends less and less on its temperature. In a dwarf with the ma.s.s of the sun, the temperature effect is negligible; it's the action of the forces within the electron-nucleon gas which makes up the star that reigns supreme.
"It's been shown that if a white dwarf--or a black one--is increased in ma.s.s, it begins to decrease sharply in volume after a certain point is reached. In fact, no _cold_ star can exist with a volume greater than about one and a half times the ma.s.s of the sun--as the ma.s.s increases and the pressure goes up, the star shrinks in volume because of the degenerate matter in it. At a little better than 1.4 times the ma.s.s of the sun--our sun, I mean: Old Sol--the star would theoretically collapse to a point.
"That has almost happened in this case. The actual limit is when the star has reached the density of a neutron, and this star hasn't collapsed that far by a long shot.
"But that star is only forty kilometers--_or less than twenty-five miles_ in diameter!"
It took nearly two hours of careful juggling to get an orbit which Arcot considered reasonably circular.
And when they finally did, Wade looked at the sky above them and shouted: "Say, look! What are all those streaks?"
Arcing up from the surface of the dull red plain below them and going over the ship, were several dim streaks of light across the sky. One of them was brighter than the rest, a bright white streak. The streaks didn't move; they seemed to have been painted on the sky overhead, glowing bands of unwavering light.
"Those," said Arcot, "are the nebulae. That wide streak is the one we just left. The bright streak must be a nearby star.
"They look like streaks because we're moving so fast in so small an orbit." He pointed to the red star beneath them. "We're less than twenty miles from the center of that thing! We're almost exactly thirty kilometers from its center, or about ten kilometers from its surface!
But, because of it's great ma.s.s, our orbital velocity is something terrific!
"We're going around that thing better than three hundred times every second; our 'year' is three milliseconds long! Our orbital velocity is _seven hundred thousand kilometers per second_!
"We're moving along at about a fifth of the speed of light!"
"Are we safe in this...o...b..t?" Fuller asked.
"Safe enough," said Arcot bitterly. "So d.a.m.ned safe that I don't see how we'll ever break free. We can't pull away with all the power on this ship. We're trapped!
"Well, I'm worn out from working under all that gravity; let's eat and get some sleep."
"I don't feel like sleeping," said Fuller. "You may call this safe, but it would only take an instant to fall down to the surface of that thing there." He looked down at their inert, but t.i.tanically powerful enemy whose baleful glow seemed even now to be burning their funeral pyre.
"Well," said Arcot, "falling into it and flying off into s.p.a.ce are two things you don't have to worry about. If we started toward it, we'd be falling, and our velocity would increase; as a result, we'd bounce right back out again. The magnitude of the force required to make us fall into that sun is appalling! The gravitational pull on us now amounts to about five _billion_ tons, which is equalized by the centrifugal force of our orbital velocity. Any tendency to change it would be like trying to bend a spring with that much resistance.
"We'd require a tremendous force to make us either fall into that star--or get away from it.
"To escape, we have to lift this ship out against gravity. That means we'd have to lift about five million tons of ma.s.s. As we get farther out, our weight will decrease as the gravitational attraction drops off, but we would need such vast amounts of energy that they are beyond human conception.
"We have burned up two tons of matter recharging the coils, and are now using another two tons to recharge them again. We need at least four tons to spare, and we only started out with twenty. We simply haven't got fuel enough to break loose from this star's gravitational hold, vast as the energy of matter is. Let's eat, and then we can sleep on the problem."
Wade cooked a meal for them, and they ate in silence, trying to think of some way out of their dilemma. Then they tried to sleep on the problem, as Arcot had suggested, but it was difficult to relax. They were physically tired; they had gone through such great strains, even in the short time that they had been maneuvering, that they were very tired.
Under a pull five times greater than normal gravity, they had tired in one-fifth the time they would have at one gravity, but their brains were still wide awake, trying to think of some way--_any way_--to get away from the dark sun.
But at last sleep came.
XI
Morey thought he was the first to waken when, seven hours later, he dressed and dove lightly, noiselessly, out into the library. Suddenly, he noticed that the telectroscope was in operation--he heard the low hum of its smoothly working director motors.
He turned and headed back toward the observatory. Arcot was busy with the telectroscope.
"What's up, Arcot?" he demanded.
Arcot looked up at him and dusted off his hands. "I've just been gimmicking up the telectroscope. We're going around this dead dwarf once every three milliseconds, which makes it awfully hard to see the stars around us. So I put in a cutoff which will shut the telectroscope off most of the time; it only looks at the sky once every three milliseconds. As a result, we can get a picture of what's going on around us very easily. It won't be a steady picture, but since we're getting a still picture three hundred times a second, it will be better than any moving picture film ever projected as far as accuracy is concerned.
"I did it because I want to take a look at that bright streak in the sky. I think it'll be the means to our salvation--if there is any."
Morey nodded. "I see what you mean; if that's another white dwarf--which it most likely is--we can use it to escape. I think I see what you're driving at."
"If it doesn't work," Arcot said coolly, "we can profit by the example of the people we left back there. Suicide is preferable to dying of cold."
Morey nodded. "The question is: How helpless are we?"
"Depends entirely on that star; let's see if we can get a focus on it."
At the orbital velocity of the ship, focussing on the star was indeed a difficult thing to do. It took them well over an hour to get the image centered in the screen without its drifting off toward one edge; it took even longer to get the focus close enough to a sphere to give them a definite reading on the instruments. The image had started out as a streak, but by taking smaller and smaller sections of the streak at the proper times, they managed to get a good, solid image. But to get it bright enough was another problem; they were only picking up a fraction of the light, and it had to be amplified greatly to make a visible image.
When they finally got what they were looking for, Morey gazed steadily at the image. "Now the job is to figure the distance. And we haven't got much parallax to work with."
"If we compute in the timing in our blinker system at opposite sides of the orbit, I think we can do it," Arcot said.
They went to work on the problem. When Fuller and Wade showed up, they were given work to do--Morey gave them equations to solve without telling them to what the figures applied.
Finally Arcot said: "Their period about the common center of gravity is thirty-nine hours, as I figure it."
Morey nodded. "Check. And that gives us a distance of two million miles apart."
"Just what are you two up to?" asked Fuller. "What good is another star?
The one we're interested in is this freak underneath us."
"No," Arcot corrected, "we're interested in getting _away_ from the one beneath us, which is an entirely different matter. If we were midway between this star and that one, the gravitational effects of the two would be cancelled out, since we would be pulled as hard in one direction as the other. Then we'd be free of both pulls and could escape!