by Colin Kapp
Jacko smiled ruefully. ‘It makes a change to hear you condemn something as impossible. What’s happened to the spirit of sweet unorthodoxy this morning?’
‘It’s gone a trifle sour on me. Hell, Jacko, Brumas has a ground crew down there. If there were big radio transmitters on Getawehi they’d surely have investigated them by now. So where’s their report?’
‘There wouldn’t necessarily be a report. Communications between ground and the spacewatch have been rather sparse.’
‘But why? With a laser channel in operation they could have a thousand-way circuit in operation if they chose.’
‘Except for one thing. A reliable line-of-sight channel presupposes the space end of the transmission to be in a synchronous orbit. But you can’t establish a synchronous orbit around something which lollops about in space like Getawehi does.’
‘I take your point,’ said Van Noon wearily. ‘We’ve just been trying to get some sense out of Getawehi’s peculiar rotation scheme. The computer keeps throwing it back requesting further information. We can’t find any set of postulates which goes halfway towards meeting the facts.’
Jacko stood up. ‘You know, Fritz, We’ve seen some pretty crazy situations in the past few years. But from the way things are stacking up I have the premonition that Getawehi’s going to be the craziest yet.’
‘And I’ve a nasty suspicion you’re right. No planet is entitled to be as crazy mixed-up as this. Even that self-disposing lander was a highly unusual bit of do-it-yourself. Let’s go see what gives with Project Ixion. If it’s half as mad as Nash is suggesting, you’re going to have company on that long walk home.’
Colonel Nash looked up from a report-strewn table as Fritz and Jacko entered. He was obviously not looking forward to the interview.
‘Sit down, gentlemen. You’ve no doubt wondered why I’ve left it this late to introduce you to Project Ixion. Frankly, it’s because we’ve all been hoping that somewhere down the line there’s been a ridiculous mistake. But I’m afraid our last analysis leaves us no such get-out. The improbable is absolutely true.’
‘Exactly what is Project Ixion?’ asked Fritz.
‘I’m only an engineer,’ said Nash. ‘I don’t pretend to understand the theoretical work behind it. It has something to do with determining the possibility of borrowing entropy levels from other parts of the universe. If it could be done, it would place at our disposal almost limitless sources of power.’
‘That I can see,’ said Fritz. But why do it on Getawehi?’
‘Theory suggested Getawehi as an ideal testbed for the experiment. Geta and its planetary satellite are ideally placed—right out on the edge of nowhere. Freedom from massed stars was something which the experiment demanded. From the theoretical standpoint there’s no better place that we know of than Getawehi.’
‘So what’s the problem?’ asked Van Noon.
‘The Ixion Project consisted of assembling two substantial prefabricated structures on Getawehi. One was a large turntable, and the second was a cantilever dish, which should have mounted on the turntable roughly after the manner of a steerable-dish radio telescope.’
‘So?’
‘So this…’ Nash threw a clip of message forms across the desk. Fritz picked it up and read speculatively.
Getawehi ground force, to Nash, Tycho Brahe
You old idiot. Quite apart from our ridiculous confinement, I must inform you in no uncertain terms that no repeat no part of Ixion turntable can be assembled from the parts you provided. You must be mad!
Wooley, Commanding.
Van Noon turned to the next one and read on.
Wooley, Commanding groundforce, Getawehi
I assure you all parts of Ixion were assembled and tested on Terra before transhipment. Try holding plans right way up.
Nash, Tycho Brahe.
Colonel Nash shifted his chair uncomfortably.
Getawehi groundforce, to Nash, Tycho Brahe
No part of the turntable fits even with plans held sideways!. It is impossible these parts ever assembled into anything anywhere. You must be joking. Why don’t you resign?
Wooley, Commanding.
Van Noon passed the first sheets to Jacko and continued reading.
Wooley, Commanding groundforce, Getawehi
Sorry to learn of your nervous condition. I am acquiring a competent engineer as replacement soonest. Suggest you avoid alcohol if you cant handle that either.
Nash, Tycho Brahe.
There was one final sheet, which read :
Getawehi groundforce, to Nash, Tycho Brahe I’ll give you alcohol you bl…
The rest of the signal was certified as corrupt by the Signals Officer, but he omitted to indicate whether the corruption was semantic or technical. Van Noon looked up.
‘So who was wrong?’ he said.
‘Nobody,’ said Nash. ‘I saw the completed Ixion structure on Terra and it checked out to specification. It was dismantled and crated by Wooley’s own team. The parts space-delivered to Getawehi were one hundred per cent accurate.’
‘But he says—’
‘I know what he says—and this is the paradox—I happen to believe him. Wooley’s a hell of a good engineer. If he says the parts don’t fit, then they don’t fit. It’s not a question of personalities or expertise. It’s simply the fact that something built on Terra will not re-assemble on Getawehi. Don’t ask me why.’
Fritz considered this in silence for a while. ‘That takes a bit of swallowing.’
‘I know. That’s why I asked you to come. You specialize in impossibilities—well here’s another one for you.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Do? Brumas wants the construction team rescued from Getawehi. Naturally that’s the first priority. But knowing the way you do things, I want you to go one step further. I want you to go down there and finish Ixion itself.’
Van Noon examined his knuckles. ‘That may not be easy. This is a joint Service exercise with divided responsibilities. What sort of backing and resources can I count on?’
‘Commander Brumas and I took the precaution of clarifying the position with GenCom. You must have friends up there, because their answer was unequivocal. As from the moment of this interview you are appointed Senior Adviser for the whole Getawehi-Ixion project. All units involved will take their instructions from you. Nice work, Lieutenant! As from this instant it’s all your show.’
With a thunderstruck expression, Van Noon shook the offered hand.
‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. There’s far too much money invested in this enterprise and far too much to gain to let it fail now. Frankly, this is a vote of confidence in unorthodoxy.’
‘Very well!’ Van Noon turned to Sergeant Hine. ‘If you can manage to get your mouth closed, Jacko, we’ve got work to do.’
‘Like what, Fritz?’
‘Like beating the daylights out of the computer, for a start. There must be some reason why that damn planet lollops all over space like that. And unless we can come to grips with the problem I’d guess we’re in for a pretty rough landing.’
Two days later, standard shipboard time, the Tycho Brahe quit hyperspace with a delicious quiver and proceeded on planetary drive to the rendezvous. In high orbit three supply ships circled the innocuous-looking mudball of Getawehi, while far below the solitary pinnace rode the lower circuit making a precariously bad job of maintaining a synchronized station above the ground base. Around them the fiery orb of Geta seemed to trace her possessive path as if guarding her solitary ugly-duckling of a planet.
When the rendezvous was complete, Van Noon abandoned the computer for a telescope and found the results equally uninformative. From any angle of off-world approach, Getawehi refused to deliver up its secrets. Superficially it was a sparsely vegetated, rather uninviting ball of rock and earth. It had never achieved a life-form capable of developing any degree of civilization and seemed content to go rolling perversely through space until the st
ars grew cold. Its only claim to activity was on the radio-frequency bands, where its output, inexplicably, was both prodigious and impenetrable.
Jacko watched the pencil being fractured by Fritz’s powerful fingers. ‘So how’re we going to play it, Fritz?’
‘I’m not sure yet. We don’t seem able to gain any meaningful information from up here, so we’ll have to go to where it’s all happening.’
‘Well, so far the planet has wrecked every ferry they’ve sent. Were you thinking of taking the whole UE group?’
‘Not initially. Just the two of us, if you’re game. I need to get down there to get the feel of the place.’
Jacko shrugged. ‘I’ve got a pilot’s licence, but in the circumstances I make no guarantee about the quality of touchdown.’
‘That’s understood, Jacko. If you can get us down without any broken bones, it’ll be the best we can expect.’
‘Brumas isn’t going to be very happy. He’s lost too many ferries already.’
‘He’ll be a lot less happy if he goes back to Terra minus his ground crew. Frankly I don’t see any alternative. Down there we stand a chance of doing something constructive. With the rest of the UE group still spaceborne we’ve at least hedged our bets.’
‘What sort of equipment do you want to take?’
‘Just light-engineering kit. If we need anything special they can do a spacedrop.’
‘Assuming we can get into contact.’
‘Wooley has his laser link down there, but the thought comes to me that if we can get control of one of those super-power transmitters down there, the communications problem should be over.’
‘That’s the bit that has me worried, Fritz. Where the hell are these transmitters? There’s not a sign of them in the telescopes.’
‘I scarcely expected to find equipment shacks and antennae laid out in a row. Let’s face it, Jacko, we’re playing in a pretty weird sector of the universe. We’re up against so many unknowns that we’d be lucky to recognize a dog before it bit us.’
Three
‘Can’t you hold her, Jacko?’ Van Noon was watching anxiously through the ferry viewpoints as the ground details of Getawehi grew more specific and less stable with their continued descent.
‘The automatic control system is fighting me. The inertial guidance platform says that Getawehi is directly under, while Getawehi’s gravitation says that it’s sideways.’
‘So who’s right?’
‘Both and neither. It’s all relative, but it does raise complications. To exaggerate slightly, imagine trying to land a ship on a ramp angled at forty-five degrees from the horizontal. Do you approach at a true right-angle to the surface of the ramp, or do you follow the geocentric vertical?’
‘Which way’s softest?’
‘Either way you’re in trouble. If you choose the first, you’re liable to topple. If you choose the second you’re liable to skid down a one-in-one slope on one landing pad. Throw in the fact that your ramp is not only inconstant in angle but also varies in direction, and you have a rough idea of the dilemma facing both myself and the ship’s computer at this moment.’
‘What will be the result if we remain controlled by the inertial platform?’
‘We crash.’
‘What if we cut the automatics and try to achieve Getawehi’s conception of the vertical?’
‘We might just make it, if we conserve fuel and don’t apply the corrections until the final moment. Only one problem—we don’t know what Getawehi’s conception of the vertical is. Even with the best of luck we’re bound to come down askew on some parameter or other.’
‘Gyp the automatics and fall by line-of-sight for a while.’
Jacko looked at him grimly. ‘Right. I’m cutting all automatics except the stabilization gyro. We’d have had to do that sooner or later anyway. A small craft like this doesn’t have enough fuel to make course corrections on a continuous oscillatory basis.’
Van Noon took up station by a viewpoint and watched the wildly plunging horizon with some dismay. ‘How far are we aiming to land from the base camp?’
‘Under these conditions I couldn’t guarantee any position within a twenty kilometre radius. I’m heading far out so that we don’t risk putting a jet burn across the camp. The camp’s at the foot of the valley, and I’m aiming to come in between those two mountain ranges, about halfway up the pass.’
The rising scream from the ferry’s outer skin told them of their entry into Getawehi’s atmosphere. The laser altimeter raced suddenly alive and began to count down the distance to the surface, acknowledging Jacko’s gentle manipulation of the thrusters .
Through the viewport the horizon spun wildly and disappeared from view. Fritz took one look through the opposite port at the alarming prospect of Getawehi approaching sideways-on, then ducked back to Jacko at the controls.
‘If you call that a line-of-sight approach, we’d best go back for an optician.’
Jacko took his hands from the controls momentarily. ‘If you think you can hold this she-devil in control any better, you’re perfectly at liberty to try.’
The success of this impromptu manoeuvre was dramatic. The ferry immediately ceased its wild swinging and settled into a more restricted pattern of deviation from the geocentric vertical. Jacko looked at the controls in considerable amazement.
‘I don’t get it!’
Van Noon thought for a moment, then his lips twisted into a grin of amusement. ‘I think I do. Both line-of-sight and inertial guidance are related to the geocentric vertical. All we did was substitute your reactions for those of the automatics. But we were wrong. All we have operating now is a simple stabilization gyroscope. Don’t you see what that means?’
‘No.’
‘Where does the axis of a gyroscope point?’
‘Near a planetary mass? Towards the centre of gravity if it’s halfways orientated from the start.’
‘Precisely! And since Getawehi’s gravitational centre is not a fixed point, the gyroscope is swinging the ship to follow the gravitational drift. That was the tendency the inertial guidance system was fighting. But we don’t have to fight it—the gyroscope is already giving us the factor we need. It’s automatically correcting us to Getawehi’s concept of the vertical.’
Jacko wasn’t convinced. He concentrated on the task of matching their deceleration to altitude, seldom allowing his hands to move more than a hairsbreadth away from the guidance controls. His caution was proved unnecessary. With a reserve of power still to spare, they continued safely to the point where they were ready to make a soft landing.
But the actual moment of touchdown brought disaster. By virtue of being orientated to Getawehi’s gravitational direction, the ferry hit the ground at an angle. The landing mechanisms refused to accept the situation, and the leg servos tried to force the ship to adopt a station at right-angles to the terrain. Such a stance was inconsistent with their centre of gravity. The whole structure staggered alarmingly and seemed likely to topple.
‘Bail out, Jacko! If this thing goes over it’s going to do some damage.’
Jacko needed no prompting. He hit the emergency release, and jumped as the hatch fell open. Within seconds they scrambled clear of the great egg-shaped bulk of the swaying ferry, and scarcely had they paused to gain breath when the vessel gave a skip and a grunt and toppled disastrously behind them.
Shorn suddenly of the ship walls, they looked at each other in amazement as the full experience of Getawehi’s peculiar gravity became a physical reality for them. The first sensation was vertigo, the second, nausea. What had been uphill when they first made touchdown was perceptibly shifting until it became across-the-hill, and, even as they watched, became downhill. Fritz’s natural body orientation changed with the shifting direction of “up”, and the heavens swung around him in a great arc as he moved into equilibrium with the changing conditions.
‘Interesting!’ gasped Fritz at last, desperately trying not to throw up.
‘
I hope it’s not going to do that often. I expect it when I’m drunk, but cold sober it comes as a bit of a shock to the system.’
‘I know what you mean, Jacko. On Terra “up” is up, and it’s inclined to remain that way. On Getawehi “up” not only varies in direction but also in slope according to what angle to the geocentric its gravity is pulling.’
But how in hell does that work?’
‘I don’t know, but I’ll figure an answer to it soon. Of course, even on Terra there’s a slight distortion of gravitational direction due to the pull of the moon—hence the tides. But it’s so slight it can’t normally be noticed. If Getawehi had some extremely massive satellites, that could be a possible answer.’
‘Except that Getawehi hasn’t got any satellites. With the mass they’d need to produce an effect like that it would scarcely be possible to miss them.’
‘Hmm. We’ll come back to that problem when we’ve had a chance to talk to Wooley’s crew. In the meantime, consider the potential uses of a variable-direction gravity. Given a soapbox on wheels and decent set of brakes, you have all you need in the way of low-cost transport. You wait until your destination lies downhill, release the brakes and coast towards it. When your destination shifts uphill you drop anchor and wait.’
‘You couldn’t run wheels over this stuff.’ Jacko kicked the soft ashy soil moodily.
‘I wasn’t thinking of it,’ said Van Noon. ‘That was purely by way of illustration. Something more in the nature of a sledge… to get us to the base camp.’
‘Moses!’ Jacko turned back towards the fallen ferry. It was now a stiff uphill climb, and the ferry approached from the side, looked precariously unsafe. ‘I’ve just the thing, Fritz. The plastic cabin liners. Six sections meeting to form a dome. You couldn’t have a better shape.’
As he spoke the world seemed to rear perilously upwards, ship uppermost, as some new component of Getawehian gravity roughly doubled its field and threw the gravitational angle to something approaching forty-five degrees from the geocentric vertical. Standing now on a hillside plain which fell away below them in a one-in-one slope as far as the eye could see, they stopped in horror. The huge ferry vehicle, its weight now twice that on landing, crushed the soft ash-soil at the edge of the depression it had made for itself on falling, and began to roll murderously down upon them.
