Vincent?"
"Permit me to elucidate a concern, sir."
"Go ahead and elucidate."
"I'm not sure how long the engines will remain operable against this much attractive force when we turn outward again. They are quite capable of producing the thrust necessary to carry us clear. But it is their durability under such conditions that concerns me. Even a brief loss of power could prove disastrous, and we cannot engage the supralight drive this close to a sun, not to mention what it might do to the Cygnus ."
"I know all that, Vincent."
"I merely reiterate it, sir, because of the thought that Dr. Alex and Dr. Kate will be displeased with anything short of a thorough inspection of the Cygnus and whatever strange force is holding it steady in its present location."
Holland nodded, glanced momentarily at a particular gauge. It read no more than he had expected it to, but he still shook a little inside at the sight of numbers he had never expected to see behind the transparent face of the readout.
"Holland here," he said toward the com pickup, "The gravity's close to the maximum we can cope with, Alex. I've tried to slow our speed at perihelion as much as possible. Vincent has just expressed concern about the reliability of the engines under this kind of stress. We can afford one pass, but then we have to get the hell out."
"Isn't it possible," the scientist's voice intoned over the speaker, "that we might . . .?"
"One pass, and that's it. I'll try to give you as much time as I can. Attend to your instruments, Alex. Let's make this one pass worth the effort."
"Coming up on target and slowing, sir," Pizer announced.
"Slow us a little more, Vincent," Holland ordered the robot. "We'll risk passing with a five-percent margin."
"As you wish, sir. But if I may be allowed to say . . ."
"You may not."
"Yes, sir." The robot succeeded in conveying a distinct feeling of disapproval.
"We'll pass below her, sir." Pizer was dividing his gaze between the foreport and several readouts.
"Check. Ready on thrusters, Vincent."
"Standing by, sir."
A vast, dark bulk hove into view. It thoroughly dominated the Palomino . The long, roughly rectangular shape bulged at the stern. Each of her eight drive exhausts was large enough to swallow the Palomino . She wore her grid-work skeleton externally, like an insect.
She was one of mankind's greatest technological triumphs. Even in the darkness Holland felt a shiver of excitement pass through him at the sight of the enormous vessel. What pilot wouldn't have given an eye to command such a behemoth!
The Cygnus had been designed to carry out any imaginable scientific mission deep-space exploration might require. Its research capabilities far outstripped those of a dozen ships the size of the Palomino . That those extensive facilities, incorporated into the Cygnus 's basic design, might never be used was something few gave thought to in the heady days of her planning and construction.
She had been built to be completely self-supporting, able to recycle air and food and water for hundreds of years if necessary, able to travel the length of the galaxy as long as the children's children of her original crew retained the knowledge to man her.
That was a last-scene scenario, however. Her creators expected her to return her original crew to Earth. The concept of a ship capable of carrying on from generation to generation was an appealingly romantic one that served a useful propagandistic purpose, helping to clear the way, come appropriations time, for vast expenditures of doubtful utility.
She was armed, too—huge sums spent to satisfy an appeal to xenophobic fears that no longer haunted mankind. In Holland's subsequent searches through space, no intelligent aliens, friendly or otherwise, had been encountered. But such fears had existed at the time of the Cygnus 's construction. So jingoistic elements had forced the installation on the great ship of the means of extermination as well as of
Odd Arne Westad, J. M. Roberts