“Yes, but it means that in three or four days from now we won’t weigh anything at all. We’ll be able to float around in the air like… like… ptertha! It’s all true, captain!”
“How high does it say we are?”
“About three-hundred-and-fifty miles — and that agrees well with our computations.”
“I don’t feel any different,” Rillomyner put in. “I say the spring has tightened up.”
Flenn nodded. “Me too.”
Toller wished for time in which to arrange his thoughts. He went to the side of the gondola and experienced a whirling moment of vertigo as he saw Land as he had never seen it before — an immense circular convexity, one half in near-darkness, the other a brilliant sparkling of blue ocean and subtly shaded continents and islands.
Things would be quite different if you were lifting off from the centre ofChamteth and heading out into open space, Lain’s voice echoed in his mind. But when travelling between the two worlds you will soon reach a middle zone — slightly closer to Overland than to Land, in fact — where the gravitational pull of each planet cancels out the other. In normal conditions, with the gondola being heavier than the balloon, the ship has pendulum stability — but where neither has any weight the ship will be unstable and you will have to use the lateral jets to control its attitude.
Lain had already completed the entire journey in his mind, Toller realised, and everything he had predicted would come to pass. Truly, they were entering a region of strangeness, but the intellects of Lain Maraquine and other men like him had already marked the way, and they had to be trusted.…
“Don’t get so excited that you lose the burn rhythm,” Toller said calmly, turning to Zavotle. “And don’t forget to check the height gauge readings by measuring the apparent diameter of Land four times a day.”
He directed his gaze at Rillomyner and Flenn. “And as for you two — why did the Squadron take the trouble to send you to special classes? The spring has not altered in strength. We’re getting lighter as we get higher, and I will treat any disputing of that fact as insubordination. Is that clear?”
“Yes, captain.”
Both men spoke in unison, but Toller noticed a troubled look in Rillomyner’s eyes, and he wondered if the mechanic was going to have difficulty in adjusting to his increasing weightlessness. This is what the proving flight is for, he reminded himself. We are testing ourselves as much as the ship. By nightfall the weight on the height gauge had risen to near the halfway mark on the scale, and the effects of reduced gravity were apparent, no longer a matter for argument.
When a small object was allowed to drop it fell to the floor of the gondola with evident slowness, and all members of the crew reported curious sinking sensations in their stomachs. On two occasions Rillomyner awoke from sleep with a panicky shout, explaining afterwards that he had been convinced he was falling.
Toller noticed the dreamlike ease with which he could move about, and it came to him that it would soon be advisable for the crew to remain tethered at all times. The idea of an unnecessarily vigorous movement separating a man from the ship was one he did not like to contemplate.
He also observed that, in spite of its decreased weight, the ship was tending to rise more slowly. The effect had been accurately predicted — a result of the fading weight differential between the hot gas inside the envelope and the surrounding atmosphere. To maintain speed he altered the burn rhythm to four-eighteen, and then to four-sixteen. The pikon and halvell hoppers on the burner were being replenished with increasing frequency and, although there were ample reserves, Toller began to look forward to reaching the altitude of thirteen-hundred miles. At that point the ship’s weight, decreasing by squares, would be only a fourth of normal, and it would become more economical to change over to jet power until the zone of zero gravity had been passed.
The need to interpret every action and event in the dry languages of mathematics, engineering and science conflicted with Toller’s natural response to his new environment. He found he could spend long periods leaning on the rim of the gondola, not moving a muscle, mesmerised, all physical energies annulled by pure awe. Overland was directly above him, but screened from view by the patient, untiring vastness of the balloon; and far below was the home world, gradually becoming a place of mystery as its familiar features were blurred by a thousand miles of intervening air.
By the third day of the ascent the sky, although retaining its normal coloration above and below, was shading on all sides of the ship into a deeper blue which glistered with ever-increasing numbers of stars.
When Toller was lost in his tranced vigils the conversation of the crew members and even the roar of the burner faded from his consciousness, and he was alone in the universe, sole possessor of all its scintillant hoards. Once during the hours of darkness, while he was standing at the pilot’s station, he saw a meteor strike across the sky below the ship. It traced a line of fire from what seemed to be one edge of infinity to the other, and minutes after its passing there came a single pulse of low-frequency sound — blurred, dull and mournful — causing the ship to give a tentative heave which drew a murmur of protest from one of the sleeping men. Some instinct, a kind of spiritual acquisitiveness, prompted Toller to keep the knowledge of the event from the others.
As the ascent continued Zavotle was kept busy with his copious flight records, many of the entries concerned with physiological effects. Even at the summit of the highest mountain on Land there was no discernible drop in air pressure, but on previous high-altitude sorties by balloon some crew members had reported a hint of thinness to the air and the need to breathe more deeply. The effect had been slight and the best scientific estimate was that the atmosphere would continue to support life midway between the two planets, but it was vital that the predication should be verified.
Toller was almost comforted by the feel of his lungs working harder during the third day — more evidence that the problems of interworld flight had been correctly foreseen — and he was therefore less than happy when an unexpected phenomenon forced itself on his attention. For some time he had been aware of feeling cold, but had dismissed the matter from his thoughts. Now, however, the others in the gondola were complaining almost continuously and the conclusion was inescapable — as the ship gained altitude the surrounding air was growing colder.
The S.E.S. scientists, Lain Maraquine included, had been of the opinion that there would be an increase in temperature as the ship entered ratified air which would be less able to screen it from the sun’s rays. As a native of equatorial Kolcorron, Toller had never experienced really severe coldness, and he had thought nothing of setting off on the interplanetary voyage clad in only a shirt, breeches and sleeveless jupon. Now, although not actually shivering, he was continuously aware of the increasing discomfort and a dismaying thought was beginning to lurk in his mind — that the entire flight might have to be abandoned for the lack of a bale of wool.
He gave permission for the crew to wear all their spare clothing under their uniforms, and for Flenn to brew tea on demand. The latter decision, far from improving the situation, led to a series of arguments. Time after time Rillomyner insisted that Flenn, acting out of malice or ineptitude, was either infusing the tea before the water had boiled properly or was allowing it to cool before serving it around. It was only when Zavotle, who had also been dissatisfied, kept a critical eye on the brewing process that the truth emerged — the water had begun to boil before it had reached the appropriate temperature. It was hot, but not “boiling” hot.