Buy Jupiter and Other Stories Part 21

Martand looked shocked and shook his head. "I'm afraid you shouldn't have done that!"

"He did seem displeased."

"Of course. Fusionists are very special people and they don't like to have outsiders-"

"I could see that. But he insisted there was nothing to worry about."

"Of course not," said Martand, taking her hand and patting it in a consoling gesture, but then continuing to hold it. "I told you there was an easy way out. He's probably setting it up now. Still, I suppose it could be awhile before he thinks of it."

"Thinks of what?" Then, warmly, "Why shouldn't he think of it, if you you have?" have?"

"But he's a specialist, you see, my dear young lady. Specialists think in their speciality and have a hard time getting out of it. As for myself, I don't dare fall into rots. When I set up a cla.s.s demonstration I've got to improvise most of the time. I have never yet been at a school where proton micropiles have been available, and I've had to work up a kerosene thermoelectric generator when we're off on field trips."

"What's kerosene?" asked Cheryl.

Martand laughed. He seemed delighted. "You see? People forget. Kerosene is a kind of flammable liquid. A still-more-primitive source of energy that I have many times had to use was a wood fire which you start by friction. Did you ever come across one of those? You take a match-"

Cheryl was looking blank and Martand went on indulgently, "Well, it doesn't matter. I'm just trying to get across the notion that your Fusionist will have to think of something more primitive than fusion and that will take him a while. As for me, I'm used to working with primitive methods. -For instance, do you know what's out there?"

He gestured at the viewing port, which was utterly featureless; so featureless that the lounge was virtually depopulated for lack of a view.

"A cloud; a dust cloud."

"Ah, but what kind? The one thing that's always to be found everywhere is hydrogen. It's the original stuff of the universe and hypers.h.i.+ps depend on it. No s.h.i.+p can carry enough fuel to make repeated Jumps or to accelerate to near-light-speed and back repeatedly. We have to scoop the fuel out of s.p.a.ce."

"You know, I've always wondered about that. I thought outer s.p.a.ce was empty!"

"Nearly empty, my dear, and 'nearly' is as good as a feast. When you travel at a hundred thousand miles a second, you can scoop up and compress quite a bit of hydrogen, even when there's only a few atoms per cubic centimeter. And small amounts of hydrogen, fusing steadily, provide all the energy we need. In clouds the hydrogen is usually even thicker, but impurities may cause trouble, as in this one." empty, my dear, and 'nearly' is as good as a feast. When you travel at a hundred thousand miles a second, you can scoop up and compress quite a bit of hydrogen, even when there's only a few atoms per cubic centimeter. And small amounts of hydrogen, fusing steadily, provide all the energy we need. In clouds the hydrogen is usually even thicker, but impurities may cause trouble, as in this one."

"How can you tell this one has impurities?"

"Why else would Mr. Viluekis have shut down the fusion tube. Next to hydrogen, the most common elements in the universe are helium, oxygen, and carbon. If the fusion pumps have stopped, that means there's a shortage of fuel, which is hydrogen, and a presence of something that will damage the complex fusion system. This can't be helium, which is harmless. It is possibly hydroxyl groups, an oxygen-hydrogen combination. Do you understand?"

"I think so," said Cheryl. "I had general science in college, and some of it is coming back. The dust is really hydroxyl groups attached to solid dust grains."

"Or actually free in the gaseous state, too. Even hydroxyl is not too dangerous to the fusion system, in moderation, but carbon compounds are. Formaldehyde is most -likely and I should imagine with a ratio of about one of those to four hydroxyls. Do you see now?"

"No, I don't," said Cheryl flatly.

"Such compounds won't fuse. If you heat them to a few hundred million degrees, they break down into single atoms and the concentration of oxygen and carbon will simply damage the system. But why not take them in at ordinary temperatures. Hydroxyl will combine with formaldehyde, after compression, in a chemical reaction that will cause no harm to the system. At least, I'm sure a good Fusionist could modify the system to handle a chemical reaction at room temperature. The energy of the reaction can be stored and, after a while, there will be enough to make a Jump possible."

Cheryl said, "I don't see that at all. Chemical reactions produce hardly any energy, compared to fusion."

"You're quite right, dear. But we don't need much. The previous Jump has left us with insufficient energy for an immediate second Jump-that's regulations. But I'll bet your friend, the Fusionist, saw to it that as little energy as possible was lacking. Fusionists usually do that. The little extra required to reach ignition can be collected from ordinary chemical reactions. Then, once a Jump takes us out of the cloud, cruising for a week or so will refill our energy tanks and we can continue without harm. Of course-" Martand raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Yes?"

"Of course," said Martand, "if for any reason Mr. Viluekis should delay, there may be trouble. Every day we spend before Jumping uses up energy in the ordinary life of the s.h.i.+p, and after a while chemical reactions won't supply the energy required to reach Jump-ignition. I hope he doesn't wait long."

"Well, why don't you tell him? Now."

Martand shook his head. "Tell a Fusionist? I couldn't do that, dear."

"Then I will."

"Oh, no. He's sure sure to think of it himself. In fact, I'll make a bet with you, my dear. You tell him exactly what I said and say that I told you he had already thought of it himself and that the fusion tube was in operation. And, of course, if I win-" to think of it himself. In fact, I'll make a bet with you, my dear. You tell him exactly what I said and say that I told you he had already thought of it himself and that the fusion tube was in operation. And, of course, if I win-"

Martand smiled.

Cheryl smiled, too. "I'll see," she said.

Martand looked after her thoughtfully as she hastened away, his thoughts not entirely on Viluekis's possible reaction.

He was not surprised when a s.h.i.+p's guard appeared from almost nowhere and said, "Please come with me, Mr. Martand."

Martand said quietly. "Thank you for letting me finish. I was afraid you wouldn't."

Something more than six hours pa.s.sed before Martand was allowed to see the captain. His imprisonment (which was what he considered it) was one of isolation, but was not onerous; and the captain, when he did see him, looked tired and not particularly hostile.

Hanson said, "It was reported to me that you were spreading rumors designed to create panic among the pa.s.sengers. That is a serious charge."

"I spoke to one pa.s.senger only, sir; and for a purpose."

"So we realize. We put you under surveillance at once and I have a report, a rather full one, of the conversation you had with Miss Cheryl Winter. It was the second conversation on the subject."

"Yes, sir."

"Apparently you intended the meat of the conversation to be pa.s.sed on to Mr. Viluekis."

"Yes, sir."

"You did not consider going to Mr. Viluekis personally?"

"I doubt that he would have listened, sir."

"Or to me."

"You might have listened, but how would you pa.s.s on the information to Mr. Viluekis? You might then have had to use Miss Winter yourself. Fusionists have their peculiarities."

The captain nodded abstractedly. "What was it you expected to happen when Miss Winter pa.s.sed on the information to Mr. Viluekis?"

"My hope, sir," said Martand, "was that he would be less defensive with Miss Winter than with anyone else; that he would feel less threatened. I was hoping that he would laugh and say the idea was a simple one that had occurred to him long before, and that, indeed, the scoops were already working, with the intent of promoting the chemical reaction. Then, when he got rid of Miss Winter, and I imagine he would do that quickly, he would start the scoops and report his action to you, sir, omitting any reference to myself or Miss Winter."

"You did not think he might dismiss the whole notion as unworkable?"

"There was that chance, but it didn't happen."

"How do you know?"

"Because half an hour after I was placed in detention, sir, the lights in the room in which I was kept dimmed perceptibly and did not brighten again. I a.s.sumed that energy expenditure in the s.h.i.+p was being cut to the bone, and a.s.sumed further that Viluekis was throwing everything into the pot so that the chemical reaction would supply enough for ignition."

The captain frowned. "What made you so sure you could manipulate Mr. Viluekis? Surely you have never dealt with Fusionists, have you?"

"Ah, but I teach the eighth-grade, captain. I have dealt with other children."

For a moment the captain's expression remained wooden. And then slowly it relaxed into a smile. "I like you, Mr. Martand," he said, "but it won't help you. Your expectations did did come to pa.s.s; as nearly as I can tell, exactly as you had hoped. But do you understand what followed?" come to pa.s.s; as nearly as I can tell, exactly as you had hoped. But do you understand what followed?"

"I will, if you tell me."

"Mr. Viluekis had to evaluate your suggestion and decide, at once, whether it was practical. He had to make a number of careful adjustments to the system to allow chemical reactions without knocking out the possibility of future fusion. He had to determine the maximum safe rate of reaction; the amount of stored energy to save; the point at which ignition might safely be attempted; the kind and nature of the Jump. It all had to be done quickly and no one else but a Fusionist could have done it. In fact, not every Fusionist could have done it; Mr. Viluekis is exceptional even for a Fusionist. Do you see?"

"Quite well." The captain looked at the timepiece on the wall and activated his viewport. It was black, as it had been now for the better part of two days. "Mr. Viluekis has informed me of the time at which he will attempt Jump-ignition. He thinks it will work and I am confident in his judgment."

"If he misses," said Martand somberly, "we may find ourselves in the same position as before, but stripped of energy."

"I realize that," said Hanson, "and since you might feel a certain responsibility over having placed the idea in the Fusionist's mind, I thought you might want to wait through the few moments of suspense ahead of us."

Both men were silent now, watching the screen, while first seconds, then minutes, moved past. Hanson had not mentioned the exact deadline and Martand had no way of telling how imminent it was or whether it had pa.s.sed. He could only s.h.i.+ft his glance, occasionally and momentarily, to the captain's face, which maintained a studied expressionlessness.

And then came that queer internal wrench that disappeared almost at once, like a tic in the abdominal wall. They had Jumped.

"Stars!" said Hanson in a whisper of deep satisfaction. The viewport had burst into a riot of them, and at that moment Martand could recall no sweeter sight in all his life.

"And on the second," said Hanson. " A beautiful job. We're energy-stripped now, but we'll be full again in anywhere from one to three weeks, and during that time the pa.s.sengers will have their view."

Martand felt too weak with relief to speak.

The captain turned to him. "Now, Mr. Martand. Your idea had merit. One could argue that it saved the s.h.i.+p and everyone on it. One could also argue that Mr. Viluekis was sure to think of it himself soon enough. But there will be no argument about it at all, for under no conditions can your part in this be known. Mr. Viluekis did the job and it was a great one of pure virtuosity even after we take into account the fact that you may have sparked it. He will be commended for it and receive great honors. You You will receive nothing." will receive nothing."

Martand was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I understand. A Fusionist is indispensable and I am of no account. If Mr. Viluekis's pride is hurt in the slightest, he may become useless to you, and you can't afford to lose him. For myself-well, be it as you wish. Good day, Captain."

"Not quite," said the captain. "We can't trust you."

"I won't say anything."

"You may not intend to, but things happen. We can't take the chance. For the remainder of the flight you will be under house arrest."

Martand frowned. "For what? what? I saved you and your d.a.m.ned s.h.i.+p I saved you and your d.a.m.ned s.h.i.+p-and your Fusionist." your Fusionist."

"For exactly that. For saving it. That's the way it works out."

"Where's the justice?"

Slowly the captain shook his head. "It's a rare commodity, I admit, and sometimes too expensive to afford. You can't even go back to your room. You will be seeing no one in what remains of the trip."

Martand rubbed the side of his chin with one finger. "Surely you don't mean that literally, Captain."

"I'm afraid I do."

"But there is another who might talk-accidentally and without meaning to. You had better place Miss Winter under house arrest, too."

"And double the injustice?"

"Misery loves company," said Martand.

And the captain smiled. "Perhaps you're right," he said.

Writer-friends come and go, too, alas. After I moved to New York, I frequently saw a number of writers whom, while I was in Boston, I had seen only occasionally. Lester del Rey and Robert Silverberg are examples. But then in 1972 Bob moved to California and I lost him again.

I had a chance to do one last thing for John Campbell, by the way. It occurred to Harry Harrison to do an anthology of stories of the kind that John Campbell had made famous by the authors he had made famous. Naturally, I was one of the authors, and in March 1972 I offered to do another "thiotimoline" article. occurred to Harry Harrison to do an anthology of stories of the kind that John Campbell had made famous by the authors he had made famous. Naturally, I was one of the authors, and in March 1972 I offered to do another "thiotimoline" article.

I had done three in my time and they had made a considerable stir. The first was The Endochronic Properties of Resublimated Thiotimoline The Endochronic Properties of Resublimated Thiotimoline and it had appeared in the March 1948, and it had appeared in the March 1948, Astounding Astounding under circ.u.mstances described in THE EARLY ASIMOV (where the article was reprinted) . under circ.u.mstances described in THE EARLY ASIMOV (where the article was reprinted) .

The second was The Micropsychiatric Applications of Thiotimoline, The Micropsychiatric Applications of Thiotimoline, which appeared in the December 1953 which appeared in the December 1953 Astounding. Astounding. It, along with the first, was included in my collection ONLY A TRILLION (Abelard-Schuman, 1957). It, along with the first, was included in my collection ONLY A TRILLION (Abelard-Schuman, 1957).

The third was Thiotimoline and the s.p.a.ce Age, Thiotimoline and the s.p.a.ce Age, which appeared in the September 1960 which appeared in the September 1960 a.n.a.log a.n.a.log and was included in my book OPUS 100 (Houghton Mifflin, 1969). and was included in my book OPUS 100 (Houghton Mifflin, 1969).

Now I wrote a fourth, a quarter century after the first, and it was THIOTIMOLINE TO THE STARS.

THIOTIMOLINE TO THE STARS.

"Same speech, I suppose," said Ensign Feet wearily.

"Why not?" said Lieutenant Frohorov, closing his eyes and carefully sitting down on the small of his back. "He's given it for fifteen years, once to each graduating cla.s.s of the Astronautic Academy."

"Word for word, I'll bet," said Feet, who had heard it the year before for the first time.

"As far as I can tell. -What a pompous bore! Oh, for a pin that would puncture pretension."

But the cla.s.s was filing in now, uniformed and expectant, marching forward, breaking into rows with precision, each man and woman moving to his or her a.s.signed seat to the rhythm of a subdued drumbeat, and then all sitting down to one loud boom.

At that moment Admiral Vernon entered and walked stiffly to the podium.

"Graduating cla.s.s of '22, welcome! Your school days are over. Your education will now begin.

"You have learned all there is to know about the cla.s.sic theory of s.p.a.ce flight. You have been filled to overflowing with astrophysics and celestial relativistic mechanics. But you have not been told about thiotimoline.

"That's for a very good reason. Telling you about it in cla.s.s will do you no good. You will have to learn to fly fly with thiotimoline. It is thiotimoline and that alone that will take you to the stars. With all your book learning, you may still never learn to handle thiotimoline. If so, there will yet be many posts you can fill in the astronautic way of life. Being a pilot will not, however, be one of them. with thiotimoline. It is thiotimoline and that alone that will take you to the stars. With all your book learning, you may still never learn to handle thiotimoline. If so, there will yet be many posts you can fill in the astronautic way of life. Being a pilot will not, however, be one of them.

"I will start you off on this, your graduation day, with the only lecture you will get on the subject. After this, your dealings will thiotimoline will be in flight and we will find out quickly whether you have any talent for it at all."

The admiral paused, and seemed to be looking from face to face as though he was trying to a.s.say each man's talent to begin with. Then he barked: face as though he was trying to a.s.say each man's talent to begin with. Then he barked: "Thiotimoline! First mentioned in 1948, according to legend, by Azimuth or, possibly, Asymptote, who may, very likely, never have existed. There is no record of the original article supposed to have been written by him; merely vague references to it, none earlier than the twenty-first century.