The rods speared through Ikematsu. He felt nothing, but from the blackness that enveloped him he knew that he, too, had vanished.
10
Electric force differs from other forces in having two forms, which conventionally are called positive and negative. Particles bearing the same form of electric charge repel one another, but those bearing opposite charges attract one another.
Actually there is only one fundamental symmetry in nature, and this is the symmetry of left—and right-handedness. “Charge symmetry” is related to this; it arises because there maybe two directions of spin about any axis.
Electric charge originates to begin with when particles within the Hubble sphere are prevented from receding from one another at their natural rate. This puts strain on the recession lines acting between them. The “thwarted recession” finds its outlet by adopting an angular component. The angular action of all “strain” lines taken together is called “pseudospin”. In some ways these “strain lines” act like lines of force with quasi-material properties. They can even be thought of as “wrapping around” the particles, though this is not what happens.
To begin with the charge that is thus created is attached to pre-existing particles, but the “strain space” so created is also capable of generating its own entities consisting purely of electric charge. These are positrons and electrons.
Pseudospin is not like the spin that could be possessed by a material body. To the charged particle itself it would seem that the whole Hubble sphere is rotating around it, not on one axis but on all axes simultaneously. Another strange difference between pseudospin and the spin of a material body is that its sense is absolute, not relative to the observer. If a material disk is set rotating it will appear to be spinning clockwise if looked at from one side but anti clockwise if looked at from the other. Pseudospin, however, will appear to have the same sense of rotation no matter from which side it is looked at. Negative charge will always appear to be clockwise, and positive charge will always appear to be anticlockwise.
Think for a moment what this means. In effect whenever two charged particles interact each selects a direction of spin for the other. Take two electrons. Each electron will look at the other and see clockwise pseudospin. However, seen objectively, i.e. from the standpoint of a third party, the spins that each has selected for the other will be contrary. Likewise an electron will select anticlockwise pseudospin for a proton but the proton will select a clockwise pseudo spin for the electron. Seen objectively, these spins, though subjectively contrary, have the same sense. Hence it transpires that the rule for electric force it that like attracts like and unlikes repel one another—the opposite of how it appears superficially.
Once the principle of pseudo spin is understood it is easy to see how magnetism arises. You have already seen how tilting a spinning gyroscope produces “gyroscopic action” in which an applied force is turned through a right angle. Every charged particle has attached to it a pseudo spin “gyroscope” the size of the Hubble sphere. Moving the particle is equivalent to tilting the gyroscope…
(From How the World Works, a physics primer for young people)
Under the vast spans of Archway City all apparently was at peace. The sky boulevards, beneath which—gentle clouds floated, sparkled brilliant as ever. The levitating balconies which were the city’s public transport system rose and descended with the same air of leisure. And the air fizzed as ever, laden as it was with billions of tiny popping bubbles containing a mix of psychotropics and pure oxygen.
But within that tranquil architectural grandiosity was an atmosphere of uncertainty and dismay. Imperial Council Member Koutroubis sat in his study, his head in his hands. The study, occupying a location a mile high in one of the shining arches, was open to the air; through its broad windows drifted the cheering bubble fizz, carried on a warm breeze. But it failed to lift the spirits of Koutroubis.
What was he going to tell the Methorians?
They were impatient to depart, waiting only for the data he had promised. But he had been unable to contact the science team that was supposed to be working on the problem of the space rent, or even to ascertain whether it existed!
He felt so helpless!
There was news of a disorder in many parts of Diadem, of fighting, even, between Biotists and those loyal to the Council, though he didn’t really believe there could have been serious violence. Still, it was lucky they had not brought in the two Star Force fleets, as had been planned. With one on the side of the Council and one of the side of the Biotists, well…
He lifted his head in surprise at a banging noise from the direction of the outer door. He heard footsteps in the corridor. Then there barged into the study a lean, agile-looking boar who stopped and darted his gaze ferociously from side to side. Behind him came several more animals and one human, a tall, pale young man in a red cloak.
The boar was Zheikass, Under-Secretary of the Home Star Department and effectively the administrator of affairs in Diadem. The young man was Heskios, a Council Member of junior rank but with no role, as far as Koutroubis could recall, in the Home Star Department. Koutroubis was puzzled. He also recognised two animals beside Zheikass: they were high-ranking civil servants too.
Blankly he addressed his fellow Council member. “Why, Heskios! What are you doing here?”
The other coloured slightly. But his gaze remained stony.
Zheikass spoke, in a stormy squeal. “Councillor, you are under arrest!”
Stunned, Koutroubis rose to his feet. Stuttering, he spoke again to Heskios.
“Are you really a party to this?”
“I happen to believe they are right, sir,” Heskios replied stiffly.
“And you, Zheikass.” Koutroubis turned his gaze to the pig. “I never realised you were a Whole-Earth-Biotist.”
The boar, already a large animal, seemed to swell even larger. He glared in outrage.
“Don’t you dare call me a Biotist!” he rasped.
In his grief Archier stumbled as he made his way through achingly empty concourses, ruined salons, wide echoing corridors from which bodies had been lately cleared. The air of dereliction was complete. It was as if the flagship, indeed the whole fleet, drifted unmanned.
In fact most of the crew were huddled in their quarters. The orgy of destruction was over, curbed by Ragshok when the two factions among the raiders—formerly defeated rebels, who felt some moral compunction, and outright pirates, who felt none—had begun fighting one another. Much life had been saved thereby, though the wanton killings of animals which none of the Escorians seemed to recognise as fellow beings, had continued apace.
The helplessness of the ship’s crew, once the raiders got aboard, had been nightmarish. No one was armed; even the commandos had been unable to reach their armouries. Still, they had managed to put up a resistance. Many an enemy had fallen to tooth and claw, though in the end this had resulted in savage reprisals.
He swayed, at the top of a gentle slope that led down to what had been, to all intents and purposes, an open-air café, bathed in sunlight, a blue sky above. The sunlamp, the hologrammed sky, were smashed. Tables were overturned and bore the dark stains of dried blood.
Suddenly two figures emerged from the interior of the café and began to mount the slope. They were Ragshok’s men. On their heads were the stolen hats of staff officers. Swarthy muscled bodies showed through skimpy wraps made of animal pelts. Both wore tawny close-fitting pants—lionskin, probably—and carried their scanguns insolently over their loins, like codpieces.