star’s course. Two outstations were damn near destroyed.”
“No nuclear devices,” Munred sighed, again disappointed by his failure to find an easy credible solution.
“That moon’s absence,” Tulla pressed on with her professional outrage, “will affect the orbit of Happiness. Its change of orbit will affect the orbits of the other planets in that solar system. You’ve got platforms near that sun. Outstations not that far away. The change will be cumulative. Just how do you think even the smallest outstation stays in place? Mathematical wizardry, that’s how. Each station balanced between the masses, between the orbits of all surrounding stellar bodies. All bodies? That includes moons. One mistake, and there’s been a few, and it can affect not one but thousands of outstations. It will affect this station. It might even affect the city. That’s what one small moon matters.”
“So what do you recommend I do?” Munred stiff-faced asked her.
“Report the moon’s absence to whoever is responsible, to whoever has the authority to resite stations. I’ll send you through my preliminary computations; they can take it from there. And the sooner the better. Will you be going down to Happiness?”
“That,” Munred turned from her, “is the police’s job. And I have no police ships. And the Inspector is on Torc.”
Standing, Tulla looked down on him with a mixture of exasperation and contempt.
“I’m going out to Ben,” she said. Ben and Torc are the two stations adjacent to XE2. (Ben, Torc — by such acronyms have most stations become known. XE2 is an abbreviation of its grid co-ordinates.)
“Now?” Munred’s head jerked up in alarm.
“I want to get some cross-bearings. And maybe their scanners picked up something that ours didn’t. I also want to consult their library. They’ve got a better science section than we have here. Now that’s something you could see about while you’re here.” And picking up her case Tulla, not blushing, left.
We now encounter that bugbear of modern chroniclers — contemporaneous events. Many chroniclers dodge this difficulty by confining their narrative to one location, let events come to them. That, unfortunately, is not possible with this tale, where to give a full account one has to take into consideration the confusing element of time, of actions being taken in one place ignorant of events and decisions being made elsewhere.
We all of us know how, because of the distances involved, news can overtake itself. Because, while the speed of electromagnetic waves is constant at about 300,000 kilometres per second, one has to bear in mind that the greater the distance the faster a ship can travel; the greater distance allowing more room for acceleration and deceleration, thus allowing greater speeds to be reached. So, for instance, where it takes 7 days for a radio message to reach XE2 from Happiness, 14 days from the nearest stations like Ben and Torc, and 22 days from this city, it takes a ship only 2 days to travel from Happiness to XE2, 2½ days from the nearest stations, and only 3 days from this city. Which is why radio is so little used, except on infrequently used direct shipping routes, like those between Happiness and XE2.
Such is the problem that our administrators have to cope with, while the chronicler it only confuses. Indeed one could say that the difficulties faced in organising the events in this book into some sort of order is a microcosm of the difficulties faced in the running of our civilisation. So, for the purpose of this narrative, where possible, the chronology of Space Time will also be kept. Where events, however, occur near simultaneously, although several millions of kilometres apart, it will be clearly stated that they are happening simultaneously.
In the meantime, returning to the story, Tulla Yorke leaves XE2 for Ben, the police ship for Happiness, Munred Danporr remains in his office nervously tapping at his console, Petre Fanne
“No nuclear devices,” Munred sighed, again disappointed by his failure to find an easy credible solution.
“That moon’s absence,” Tulla pressed on with her professional outrage, “will affect the orbit of Happiness. Its change of orbit will affect the orbits of the other planets in that solar system. You’ve got platforms near that sun. Outstations not that far away. The change will be cumulative. Just how do you think even the smallest outstation stays in place? Mathematical wizardry, that’s how. Each station balanced between the masses, between the orbits of all surrounding stellar bodies. All bodies? That includes moons. One mistake, and there’s been a few, and it can affect not one but thousands of outstations. It will affect this station. It might even affect the city. That’s what one small moon matters.”
“So what do you recommend I do?” Munred stiff-faced asked her.
“Report the moon’s absence to whoever is responsible, to whoever has the authority to resite stations. I’ll send you through my preliminary computations; they can take it from there. And the sooner the better. Will you be going down to Happiness?”
“That,” Munred turned from her, “is the police’s job. And I have no police ships. And the Inspector is on Torc.”
Standing, Tulla looked down on him with a mixture of exasperation and contempt.
“I’m going out to Ben,” she said. Ben and Torc are the two stations adjacent to XE2. (Ben, Torc — by such acronyms have most stations become known. XE2 is an abbreviation of its grid co-ordinates.)
“Now?” Munred’s head jerked up in alarm.
“I want to get some cross-bearings. And maybe their scanners picked up something that ours didn’t. I also want to consult their library. They’ve got a better science section than we have here. Now that’s something you could see about while you’re here.” And picking up her case Tulla, not blushing, left.
We now encounter that bugbear of modern chroniclers — contemporaneous events. Many chroniclers dodge this difficulty by confining their narrative to one location, let events come to them. That, unfortunately, is not possible with this tale, where to give a full account one has to take into consideration the confusing element of time, of actions being taken in one place ignorant of events and decisions being made elsewhere.
We all of us know how, because of the distances involved, news can overtake itself. Because, while the speed of electromagnetic waves is constant at about 300,000 kilometres per second, one has to bear in mind that the greater the distance the faster a ship can travel; the greater distance allowing more room for acceleration and deceleration, thus allowing greater speeds to be reached. So, for instance, where it takes 7 days for a radio message to reach XE2 from Happiness, 14 days from the nearest stations like Ben and Torc, and 22 days from this city, it takes a ship only 2 days to travel from Happiness to XE2, 2½ days from the nearest stations, and only 3 days from this city. Which is why radio is so little used, except on infrequently used direct shipping routes, like those between Happiness and XE2.
Such is the problem that our administrators have to cope with, while the chronicler it only confuses. Indeed one could say that the difficulties faced in organising the events in this book into some sort of order is a microcosm of the difficulties faced in the running of our civilisation. So, for the purpose of this narrative, where possible, the chronology of Space Time will also be kept. Where events, however, occur near simultaneously, although several millions of kilometres apart, it will be clearly stated that they are happening simultaneously.
In the meantime, returning to the story, Tulla Yorke leaves XE2 for Ben, the police ship for Happiness, Munred Danporr remains in his office nervously tapping at his console, Petre Fanne
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