Islands of Space John W. Campbell (best ereader for manga .txt) 📖

collecting the necessary spare parts and apparatus. Morey was gathering a small library and equipping a chemistry laboratory. Fuller was to get together the necessary standard equipment for the ship⁠—tables, seats, bunks, and other furniture.

It took months of work, and it seemed it would never be finished, but finally, one clear, warm day in August, the ship was completely equipped and ready to go.

On the last inspection, the elder Dr. Arcot and the elder Mr. Morey went with the four younger men. They stood beside the great intergalactic cruiser, looking up at its shining hull.

“We came a bit later than we expected, son,” said Dr. Arcot, “but we still expect a good show.” He paused and frowned, “I understand you don’t intend to take any trial trip. What’s the idea?”

Arcot had been afraid his father would be worried about that, so he framed his explanation carefully. “Dad, we figured this ship out to the last decimal place; it’s the best we can make it. Remember, the molecular motion drive will get a trial first; we’ll give it a trial trip when we leave the sun. If there’s any trouble, naturally, we’ll return. But the equipment is standard, so we’re expecting no trouble.

“The only part that would require a trial trip is the space-control apparatus, and there’s no way to give that a trial trip. Remember, we have to get far enough out from the sun so that the gravitational field will be weak enough for the drive to overcome it. If we tried it this close, we’d just be trying to neutralize the sun’s gravity. We’d be pouring out energy, wasting a great deal of it; but out away from the sun, we’ll get most of the energy back.

“On the other hand, when we do get out and get started we will go faster than light, and we’d be hopelessly beyond the range of the molecular motion drive in an instant. In other words, if the space-control drive doesn’t work, we can’t come back, and if it does work, there’s no need to come back.

“And if anything goes wrong, we’re the only ones who could fix it, anyway. If anything goes wrong, I’ll radio Earth. You ought to be able to hear from me in about a dozen years.” He smiled suddenly. “Say! We might go out and get back here in time to hear ourselves talking!

“But you can see why we felt that there was little reason for a trial trip. If it’s a failure, we’ll never be back to say so; if it isn’t, we’ll be able to continue.”

His father still looked worried, but he nodded in acquiescence. “Perfect logic, son, but I guess we may as well give up the discussion. Personally, I don’t like it. Let’s see this ship of yours.”

The great hull was two hundred feet long and thirty feet in diameter. The outer wall, one foot of solid lux metal, was separated from the inner, one-inch relux wall by a two inch gap which would be evacuated in space. The two walls were joined in many places by small lux metal cross-braces. The windows consisted of spaces in the relux wall, allowing the occupants to see through the transparent lux hull.

From the outside, it was difficult to detect the exact outline of the ship, for the clear lux metal was practically invisible and the foot of it that surrounded the more visible part of the ship gave a curious optical illusion. The perfect reflecting ability of the relux made the inner hull difficult to see, too. It was more by absence than presence that one detected it; it blotted out things behind it.

The great window of the pilot room disclosed the pilot seats and the great switchboard to one side. Each of the windows was equipped with a relux shield that slid into position at the touch of a switch, and these were already in place over the observatory window, so only the long, narrow portholes showed the lighted interior.

For some minutes, the elder men stood looking at the graceful beauty of the ship.

“Come on in⁠—see the inside,” suggested Fuller.

They entered through the airlock close to the base of the ship. The heavy lux door was opened by automatic machinery from the inside, but the combination depended on the use of a molecular ray and the knowledge of the correct place, which made it impossible for anyone to open it unless they had the ray and knew where to use it.

From the airlock, they went directly to the power room. Here they heard the soft purring of a large oscillator tube and the indistinguishable murmur of smoothly running A.C. generators powered by large contraterrene reactors.

The elder Dr. Arcot glanced in surprise at the heavy-duty ammeter in a control panel.

“Half a billion amperes! Good Lord! Where is all that power going?” He looked at his son.

“Into the storage coils. It’s going in at ten kilovolts, so that’s a five billion kilowatt supply. It’s been going for half an hour and has half an hour to run. It takes two tons of matter to charge the coil to capacity, and we’re carrying twenty tons of fuel⁠—enough for ten charges. We shouldn’t need more than three tons if all goes well, but ‘all’ seldom does.

“See that large black cylinder up there?” Arcot asked, pointing.

Above them, lying along the roof of the power room, lay a great black cylinder nearly two feet in diameter and extending out through the wall in the rear. It was made integral with two giant lux metal beams that reached to the bow of the ship in a long, sweeping curve. From one of the power switchboards, two heavy cables ran up to the giant cylinder.

“That’s the main horizontal power unit. We can develop an acceleration of ten gravities either forward or backward. In the curve of the ship, on top, sides, and bottom, there are power units for motion in the other two directions.

“Most of the rest of the stuff in this section is old