STEER FOR THE SUN
Jack Rivers



The Moonbase neutrino station hummed with activity. Automatic machinery carried out it's programme unthinkingly, men carried out their duties in much the same manner. All except a few, that was. The control staff dared not relax their vigilance for a moment. 

In the old days, of course, it had been much worse. When McTaggart had discovered the principle of the spin capture apparatus, it had been intended for laboratory use only. Then it was realised that here was a potentially indispensable piece of apparatus. 

The Sun sends out a constant stream of radiation. The total emitted is much much more than mankind could ever hope to use; but there is one difficulty. As it travels out from the giant atomic cauldron that gave it birth, the radiation diffuses, dissipates. By the time it has travelled the 93 million miles to the Earth and Luna, it has become weakened by distance, difficult to concentrate. This diffuse radiation was insufficient for the gigantic machines of 2085 A.D. What was needed was a way to concentrate the Sun's radiation into a beam, and 'broadcast' that tight beam to the storage equipment that could then be set up on Luna. But they could find no way of doing this. 

Then McTaggart's apparatus came into the picture. It's powerful field was the only known way to stop that most elusive atomic particle, the neutrino, in it's tracks. The neutrino. The particle that can pass through a million miles of lead and not even slow up. Up to the time McTaggart developed his Capture apparatus, only a random few had ever been captured by humanity. 

But McTaggart changed all that. His field absorbed the neutrinos, which were nothing more than units of atomic spin and changed them into something else - raw power. What was more, the field made it possible to concentrate the neutrinos, beam them from one point to another. Distance was no great problem - nothing stopped the neutrino beam once it was set on it's way. 

Mankind at once saw the great possibilities. If the neutrino flux emitted by the sun could be concentrated, beamed to Earth, and stored, by means of a confining McTaggart field, man's power problems would be over. If the entire neutrino output of the Sun could be tapped, it would exceed the total of all the natural radiation at that time being captured from the Sun, being, of course, the whole output instead of the miserable scrap that bisects the Earth's path at a distance of 93 million miles from it's origin. 

But there was a snag. A big snag. The neutrino beam could be tapped, all right, by means of a series of stations girdling the moon. It could also be easily stored on Luna until it was beamed down to Earth. But all this was useless without a transmitting station - and that had to be on Sol itself, or, at least, so near it that to all practical purposes it was sailing on the photosphere. 

The problem was solved. The McTaggart field was varied to produce a confining force shield. It took a decade and a half of research, but it was done. Automatic transmitting stations were sent out to the Sun. They survived, and did their job beautifully. They concentrated the Solar neutrino flux and beamed it back to Luna. In fact, they did the job too well. 

The Sun's neutrino output was variable. That was no real problem. With any ordinary variation in output the storage fields simply extended their capacity to absorb the extra power supplied. But at the time of a solar flare, the output went up so much that several receiving stations were burnt out trying to absorb the tremendous load. 

It was clear that something had to be done. The system worked divinely, except at the time of a flare, when computer's became disoriented and catastrophe threatened. 

Automatic machinery was refined, improved, but it was still not good enough to cope with - control - the vast solar flares and the resultant neutrino storms. An improvement was needed. There was only one real choice - man! 

So the Sunskimmers came into being. Control stations, floating on the incandescent photosphere of the Sun, protected from it's atomic blast by McTaggart forcescreens. But it was not a safe profession. The crews of the sunskimmers were brave, dedicated, some said foolish, men who still possessed the lust for adventure that had characterised a segment of humanity for as long as the race had existed. They beamed the Sun's neutrino flux out to the waiting Luna stations. The giant McTaggart fields, reached out, grasped the streaming, spinning, neutrinos, concentrated them into a vast beam and sent them winging on a 93 million mile journey to Earth's satellite. Thirty two stations in carefully calculated positions around the Sun's equator insured that a constant flow of power surged into the lunar storage stations. 

But there was still the danger of flares. Here too, men could be utilised. At the first sign of an eruption on the Solar surface, the crew of the local sunskimmer shut down the McTaggart field that attracted the neutrino flux, switched to a purely local field that gathered in neutrinos from a smaller segment of Sol. Thus the old level of the beam was maintained. As the flare died away, the radius of the field was increased again, to maintain the level, until things were back to normal again. But - if the sunskimmer transmitting stations made one mistake, the neutrino flux received on the Moon could reach dangerous proportions, could burn out the entire installation. That was why the control staff had to maintain eternal vigilance. 

Dan Yancy was controller of the Moonbase receiving station, official name Base RM 12, one of a string of such bases that girdled the Moon. 

He frowned as he read the message on the screen. His deputy and friend, Jack Madden, raised an eyebrow as he saw the expression on his boss's face. 

"Trouble, Dan?" he enquired. Yancy nodded. "You said it. Those fools down on Earth have chosen this moment to send up a government representative to look us over. The administration want to make sure that the Moon is functioning efficiently, apparently. Their representative has expressed a wish to see one of the Neutrino receiving stations at work. We're the lucky guys that have been chosen." 

"And just who are they sending up to give us the once over?" Madden asked. 

"Senator Williamson, no other." 

"God. That firebrand?" 

"Yes, and he couldn't've come at a worse time. All the indications are that the Sun is entering a period of intense activity. There are bound to be flares. We'll need our full vigilance. I can't afford to be out showing some puffed up senator round the base." 

"When's he arriving?" 

"Tomorrow. 9 a.m. New York time. He'll be staying about thirty hours, excluding one sleep period, in my cabin no doubt, before returning to Tycho dome." 

Madden smiled. "Never mind, boss. It'll do you good to bunk down with the riffraff for once." 

Yancy winced. "I daresay. But it's not that that irks me. It's this eternal interference with our routine from Earth." 

"Hmm; they do keep a close eye on us, I agree, but remember that they've got a big investment tied up here. All Earth's power comes from the beams of the stations. If our beams fail for any reason, Earth goes to pot." 

"Sure, sure. I just wish it was someone other than Williamson. He's the sort of careerist who'd find fault with us just to try and gain a bit of political prestige. If he could say he'd managed to save a bit of money it'd be a great popular move. The people resent the taxes that they have to pay. It's folk like Williamson who have convinced them that the present high level of taxation is due purely to the fact that these stations exist." 

Madden frowned. "But that's total nonsense. If these stations closed down, Earth would be crippled. She couldn't get the power she needs from any other source. Besides, our beamed power is cheaper than atomic fusion stations." 

"I know that," Yancy said, "and Williamson does too. He's no fool. But that doesn't alter the fact that he's out to grab a bit of personal prestige for himself, and he can best do it by chopping a bit off our budget. We'd better be on our guard." 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Sunskimmer Station No. 25 hung suspended, a few thousand miles above the raging surface of the Sun. Shielded from 6000C of awful heat by the unflawed McTaggart force shield, it hummed with power as it's attractors beamed the neutrino power of Sol to the waiting terrestrial civilisation. Bradley Burt, Captain, stood before the inflow gauges, examining them critically. 

"Neutrino inflow's up three and a half points," he remarked. 

The station's chief engineer, Lucy Masterson, nodded. "Hmm. Within tolerance so far," she said, "but we're keeping a close eye on it." 

"Good. Flare activity is expected within the next few days. There are several sizeable spot groups forming. If activity increases we might have to pull in the field a mite." 

Masterson agreed. "I'll watch it, Cap'n," she assured Burt. 

Happy in the knowledge that his engineers were amongst the finest in the system, Burt retired to his small cabin, where he sank onto his bunk, absorbed in thought. None of the Sun's radiation penetrated the McTaggart shield to reach the station. It had at one time been thought that the field might be relaxed just enough to allow through an amount of radiation sufficient to power the station without causing discomfort to it's crew, but this process, although possible, entailed an increased risk of breakdown in the shield, and so it had been discarded. Instead, vast fuel cell storage batteries powered and lit the sunskimmers, brought in by the shielded supply ships that plied between the Sun and the Venus space platform. 

Shield breakdown. Those were the two words that sent a shiver down the spines of all the sunskimmers' crews. If the force screen should fail even momentarily the whole station would become nothing more than a wisp of atomic gas. Only once in the time that the manned stations had been in existence had that happened. The fact that the crew could have known nothing about it didn't help. It was a small, but ever present risk, and all crew members had regular nightmares about it. 

Still, Captain Burt told himself, in a week's time he would be relieved. Then there would be three months leave back on good old Terra Firma. Three months on, three months off, that was as much as any normal person could be expected to stand. Every new spell of duty added two years to his age, he was sure of that. Still, pay was good, and soon he'd have enough to retire. He sank into a fitful sleep. 

His dreams, for once not unpleasant, but visions of green hills and blue sky, were awoken by a loud knocking at his cabin door. It's insistence meant trouble. He stumbled out of bed, slid on a dressing gown and opened the door. A worried looking tech stood there. 

"What's up?" Burt rapped. 

"Engineer Masterson sent me to wake you, Captain," the man explained. "She said to tell you it's trouble." 

Burt didn't wait to dress, but raced down the metal passageway to the control room. Masterson stood before the gauges, flipping switches frantically. Burt watched her in silence. 

"It's a flare," the engineer explained. "A goddam big one, too." 

Burt glanced at the inflow gauges. "Pull in the radius of the field," he ordered. "That concentration's getting dangerous." 

"That's just what I'm trying to do," Masterson said tensely. 

"Uh? What's wrong?" Burt muttered. 

"It's the focus for the attractor field. The mechanism appears to have jammed. I can't alter the focus of the field, and until I can do that I can't alter the field radius. Furthermore, by the same token I can't reduce the field radius to zero and cut off the beam. Moonbase is going to get the full force of our beam - flare output and all. I know due to the failsafes this should be impossible - but it's happening right now, believe me!" 

"It'll burn out the receiving station,'' Burt whispered. "Unless we can get a message to them in time. If they can shut off the convertors before the beam gets to them, they'll be all right." 

Lucy Masterson interrupted. "We couldn't possibly get out a radio message at this time. It's bad enough normally, trying to make ourselves overheard against the background of the Sun, but we all know how a flare affects radio broadcasting, even out on Earth. Here It blankets us completely." 

Burt shrugged his shoulders. "Still, it'll do no harm to try." He turned to the comms officer. "Joe, get on to whichever base is receiving our beam and try to warn 'em. Step up power to maximum. Who knows, it might be our turn for a miracle." He spun back to Masterson. "How long have we got?" 

The engineer shrugged. "About an hour until the beam reaches danger point. After that it'll only take about eight minutes to reach the Moon." 

"Which station is receiving our beam?'' Burt asked. 

"RM 12, for the next few hours." 

"RM 12. Hmm. I know the boss there, Dan Yancy. I wouldn't like to think of hit, being fried up." He lapsed into thought. "Oh, Christ," he ejaculated suddenly. 

Masterson looked at him questioningly. "What now?" 

"Last message we got through from Earth. I'd forgotten it for the moment. They're sending up a representative - some senator or other - up to Luna to inspect the receiving stations. Rising costs or some such pretext. But what I'm getting to is this. That senator is visiting station RM 12, and he's there at this very moment." 

Masterson whitened. "So if the station goes up..." 

"So does the senator." 

"Wow. Then all Hell breaks loose." 

"You're not kidding. I wouldn't like to think what the repercussions will be. We've got to get that focusser fixed within the hour." 

The engineer looked dubious. "I don't guarantee that we'll be able to do it," she said gravely. "It'll take us that long to get the casing stripped down - then we've got to find the trouble, put it right, and get the goddam thing back into working order again. Impossible." 

"We must try though." Burt turned back to the operator. "Any luck?" 

The comms man shook his head. "I can't even get a message out to Mercury. That flare's blanketing our waveband absolutely." 

"Keep trying," Burt ordered hopelessly. There was nothing else that he could say. It looked as though the neutrino beam was going to smash into the Moon receiving station at full blast, where it would automatically be converted into raw useable power. As soon as that happened, the storage domes would overload, and the base would be converted to a mass of slag, he told himself. Yet there was nothing more to be done. He cursed the lack of investment that had denied the opportunity to build in the proper cut-out system on the receiving Moon bases. The scientists in the pocket of the Government had convinced the safety committee that it would be an extremely expensive and unnecessary duplication of the systems the sunskimmers already operated. Despite the folly of the argument, with the project already well over its initial budget, the cut-outs were never added to the Moon bases. He looked pensive for a moment. "Can't we alter the direction of the beam?" he asked Masterson. "So that it misses the receiving station. It would require only a minute adjustment, surely." 

The other nodded. "Mmm. I wish we could do that. There'd be no danger at all if we could miss the base. The beam isn't dangerous until it's converted to raw power on Luna. If it missed the base, it'd simply pass right on through the Moon as though it was a sheet of tissue paper, without any ill effects at all. After all, billions of neutrinos pass through every earthbound human being every minute without affecting him at all. Unfortunately, we can't alter the direction of the beam by as much as a centimetre. To make an alteration we must get the co-operation of the receiving station. The beam is locked onto their convertors at their end, you see. If they released their lock we could swing the beam, but as their control is still locked on, it would be pointless to do so. Even if we altered the direction by the full five degrees that is all the latitude that we have, the McTaggart field at the Luna base would swing the beam back onto its target." 

"So what it boils down to," Burt muttered, "is that we can't do anything without the co-operation of Luna, and we can't get in touch with them." 

Masterson nodded. "I'll try and repair the focusser, of course, but in the time we've got I think that it can be called an impossible task. Unless something unforeseen comes up, we can write off base RM 12." "And the visiting senator." 

The engineer nodded. "Yes. God, what a mess. Oh well, I'll see what I can do." She turned and walked out of the control room, bawling out for her assistants as he went. Burt turned back to the control sensors. For a moment it was almost as if they were grinning at him. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Senator Walter Williamson was a careerist. He had never tried to make a secret of the fact. The strange thing was that the public didn't seem to resent this particularly, maybe because the senator had a way of keeping in line with public opinion over the major issues. At the moment, public opinion was ranged against the neutrino stations. The cost was high, the public said, and they were right. It WAS high, but not as high as power from the atom, and coal, and oil had been in the past. But still, it did keep the taxes high. With public opinion ranged against the stations, it was not surprising that senator Williamson was also critical of them. He didn't go quite as far as those who said that the whole project ought to be ditched - he had enough sense to realise that the Earth would be powerless without the energy from the neutrino stations. No, he concentrated on the cost of running the project. It was, he said, ridiculously high, and he may have been right. Doubtless in a century's time, the cost would be lower, as improved and safer equipment came into use. But, at the present, the engineers and project administration had argued, rightly, that not one man could be spared from the stations' staffs, and not one item of equipment was dispensable. So it was that Senator Williamson and Dan Yancy met as old protagonists. The senator insisted that he be shown around the station as quickly as possible, despite the fact that Yancy had work to do. The station boss calmly informed him that it was not possible. 

"Why not?" Williamson demanded vexedly. 

"It's my shift on duty at the moment. I just can't spare the time. We daren't relax our vigilance. I couldn't show even the President round at the moment." 

"Let a substitute take your spell of duty." 

Yancy smiled. "We have no substitutes, Senator Williamson. Due to, ah, certain financial factors which you yourself have mentioned in the past, there are no spare staff on the station. The only men off duty are sleeping, and I refuse to let any of them work through their off duty period. They need to be wide awake when they are on duty. As it is, I shall have to conduct you around during my own off duty spell. Not that I'm complaining, of course." 

Williamson scowled, opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it. He went off on another tack instead: "You say your staff need to be wide awake. I thought that the running of this station was purely routine - that there was no element of risk involved." 

"There isn't, as long as the crew on turn are possessed of their full faculties. But to allow sleepy men to take control of the delicate machinery involved in the conversion and storage apparatus would be criminal." 

The senator harrumphed and asked to be shown to his room. Yancy winced, remembering that Williamson was sleeping in his quarters. Not that Dan minded bunking down with the rest of the guys, but it seemed to him that the surrender of his quarters was a tacit reminder of the Senator's seniority. Back on Earth, he only had to say the wrong thing, and the budget of the neutrino stations would be cut, making it virtually impossible to maintain the necessary high standard of machinery and crew. Accidents would follow, as sure as night followed day, and this would lead to still further reaction against the power stations. It was a deadly spiral process. Yancy sighed inaudibly and led the Senator to his room. 

Later, as they sat at the card table in the dormitory, Madden asked Yancy about Williamson's motives. 

"I mean, Dan," he said. "We all know that he's after prestige, and he figgers that he can achieve that best by cutting back on taxes. But why pick on the neutrino stations, which are, after all, essential to Earth's economy?" 

Yancy shook his head slowly. "I've been giving that point some thought, Jack," he said. "At first sight it doesn't stand to reason that Williamson, who after all, is quite an intelligent man, should take a stand on such an issue. But I've got a suspicion that the whole thing runs deeper than that." 

"Oh?" 

"Yes. I think that Williamson's only using this issue to force public opinion against space expenditure as a whole." 

"What? You mean that he wants the human race to retreat to Earth?" 

"It might well be. If he can discredit this programme for a start, it will give him a platform to build on. He knows the Earth can't do without neutrino power, but, he will argue, if we can't save money on this particular aspect of the programme, then there ought to be a cutback on the space program generally, in order to offset the cost of the power stations." 

"But - if we abandoned the space program, where would we get our raw materials - what would we do with our excess populations?" 

"Birth control - and, as to the raw materials, Williamson owns a controlling interest in Transmutation Products, Inc." 

"Transmutation? Hopelessly impracticable. Humanity couldn't transmute ten per cent of it's requirements." 

"You know it, and so do I. But Williamson seems to have a blind spot on the subject. The hell of it is that he may well be able to talk the majority of the electorate into agreeing with him." 

Madden spluttered. "Why, it - it's nonsensical. Even with an increased budget, the power stations couldn't survive without the supporting background of the general space programme." 

Yancy nodded. "Everything you say is true, Jack, but try convincing our friend the Senator of it." 

"Maybe he ought to have a little accident. A malfunction of the airlock, perhaps ...." 

"Jack!" 

"Oh, yeah, okay Dan. I wasn't serious, but it's sure a temptation. What can we do?" 

"God only knows, Jack. Better say your prayers a bit louder tonight. Myself, I'm going to sleep on it. G'night." 

"G'night, boss. Hell!" 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Sunskimmer station No. 25 was a frantic hive of activity. At the centre of it all, Captain Bradley Burt stood, watching the neutrino inflow gauges building up to the danger point. A few thousand miles beneath the station raged the seething solar flare that could well mean death for the entire crew of the Lunar receiving station, including Senator Williamson. Burt flipped a switch. 

"How's the repair work going, Lucy?" he asked urgently. 

"Not too fast, Cap'n," the engineer replied. "I can tell you now, for what it's worth, that we'll never be finished in time." 

"Damn. Well, there must be some other way. What if we rotated the entire station?" 

"No dice," replied the engineer, her voice tinny over the intercom. "The locking devices for the beam are independent of the main station, as you know. If we rotated, they'd remain still." 

"God, what a mess. How long till the beam builds up to danger level?" 

"Half an hour if the flare keeps increasing in power at the present rate." 

"They'll be fried down on the Lunar station. Unless ...." 

"Unless what, Cap.?" 

"Look. Our beams increasing in strength at the moment, but it's not dangerous yet, right?" 

"Yeah. So what?" 

"Well, surely, when the beam starts increasing in strength down on Luna, won't they realise that something is up, and shut off the converters. If they do that, everything will be all right - the neutrino beam will pass right through the Moon and on out into deep space." 

"Yes. IF they suspect something. I doubt that they will, however. Our beam varies in strength constantly. As you know, the normal level we maintain is far below the danger level, so that for minor flares, we don't even bother to pull in the field. We can handle the increased output, and so can the Lunar converters. So we let it go through, and Earth is glad of the extra power it provides. When the input at Luna station starts to go up, they will naturally think that it's a small flare only, and that we've got things under control here at our end. Of course, when the level gets near the red line on their gauges they'll begin to wonder, but by that time it may well be too late for them to take effective action in time." 

"Then you think they'll just sit there and let the power build up?" 

"Yes. No reason why they shouldn't. We've never let them down before." 

"If it'd solve anything, I'd even drop this whole confounded station into the Sun." 

There was a long silence from the other end of the line, then Masterson's voice came back, a trace of excitement in evidence. "Captain. That may well be the answer." 

"Eh? What? But it'd do us no good. If I thought that by sacrificing ourselves we could save the guys out on the Moon and their precious senator, I'd do it. But it's impossible. The only way to destroy the station is to shut off the McTaggart, field that protects us from the Sun's blast. If I did that, we'd be reduced to vapour instantly. I might do it, too, if I could, and if all else failed. But I can no more shut off our force field than you can alter the focus of the attractor field." 

"Sure, Captain. I know the two are linked. But it might not be necessary to shut off the field." 

"Uh? But it'll do no good if the fields left on. It'll protect us just as well down on the Sun's surface, or even inside it, as it does up here." 

"Yes. But why are we up here in the first place. Why aren't we down on the Sun's surface?" 

"Why, because down on the surface the Sun's gravitational field would affect the field, flatten it out, restrict it so that it couldn't do it's work properly. Up here in free fall orbit it does it's job perfec.... Hell, I see what you're at!" 

"Yes. If we can't restrict the neutrino gathering field, why not let the Sun's field do it for us?" 

"It might even work at that. Lucy, you're a genius. But can we get down there in time. We have less than half an hour. And won't the increase in radiation as we get nearer the surface compensate for the reduction in the field area?" 

"No. We're already pulling in neutrinos at full field strength. We couldn't pull in more at the surface itself, especially as less of the Sun's area is presented to us down there. It'll work - IF we can get down in time." 

"Then let's get going," Burt rapped. He flipped on his microphone, at the same time cutting off Masterson, and began to issue terse orders. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Dan Yancy was having a nightmare. 

The receiving station was blowing up. Great gusts of acrid smoke blew through the corridors of the receiving station, flames licked up at him with a savage intensity. The entire building seemed to be rocking under his feet, he was swaying from side to side. Abruptly, he realised through a mist of sleepiness that his shoulder was being shaken vigorously. He peered through gummy eyelids at the dishevelled figure of Jack Madden. The man looked worried. 

"Wake up, Dan," he said. "We've got trouble." 

"Uh? What sort of trouble?" the station boss mumbled. 

"The Beam. It's climbing in power like the clappers." 

"So what? Probably a small flare. Sunskimmer station'll have it all under control." 

"Hmm, I don't know, boss. I've seen small flares build up before, and it wasn't anything like this. This one looks as though it could pack a real punch." 

"Even so, the Sun station will pull in it's field if things get too dangerous." 

"Maybe, but with the big noise aboard I thought it might be best to let you know there was something unusual going on." 

Yancy shook his head. "Mmm, well thanks, Jack," he said drowsily. "But the next time..." His voice trailed off, and suddenly he was wide awake. He raised himself onto his elbows, and laughed softly. 

"You know, Jack my boy, I think that this is our lucky day," he said. 

Madden looked bewildered. "I'm not quite with you," he said. 

"Look, Jack," Yancy continued. "We have a problem, in the shape of a senator who wants to cut down on our funds by reducing our staff and facilities, right. Now, as I can see it there's only one way to get him to change his mind - convince him that we need ALL our resources. An emergency like this might just convince him. If he thought that we were in deadly danger, and only just scraped out of it, even with all our staff, he might reconsider - we might even get an increased allotment. Yeah, this is our big chance Jack." 

"But - you just said yourself - there's no emergency." 

Yancy looked shocked. "And what about this flare, then." 

"Uh, but, the guys out on the Sunskimmer'll look after that." 

"You know it, and I know it, but Senator Williamson doesn't. As far as he's concerned, this station may be on the verge of complete destruction." He winked. "And as far as he's concerned it will be." 

Madden looked doubtful. "You're taking a risk, Dan." 

"Sure. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Are you with me?" 

Madden grinned. "You bet. I'll spread the word." He raced off, chuckling, as Yancy swung his legs down to the floor. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Sunskimmer station No. 25 descended out of it's parking orbit toward the raging atomic furnace that was the photosphere of the Sun. In the normal course of events, it was motionless, thousands of miles above a given point on the Sun's surface, to which it was firmly anchored by a force beam. This mechanism enabled it to remain in a twenty seven day orbit, matching the Sun's rotation, at a much lower level than would have been possible for a normal stationary orbit. In free fall, the McTaggart field could extend to gather in neutrinos from as wide an area as possible. Now that area was gradually being compressed by the Sun's terrible gravitational field as the station plummeted towards the surface of the star that was Sol. The station itself remained unaffected by the increased gravitational pull, representing a closed environment inside it's protecting field of force. 

"How's the neutrino level?" Burt enquired anxiously. 

"Still increasing, but not nearly as fast as it was." 

"Point is, is it still going to pass the danger point?" 

"Hmm, it's touch and go. Can we descend any faster, Cap'n? It'd be a great help." 

"No doubt, but we just can't do it. We're falling as fast as Sol's gravity'll pull us down at the moment." 

There was a brief silence from the engineer. "You know," he said briefly, "I never thought that there'd be a time when I'd be glad to be falling into the Sun." 

"Me neither. Thank the Lord for our force field. It's a good job it's a total field. If they'd left it open a mite, just enough to power the station, the energy increase at the surface would be enough to melt this station down." 

"Yeah. Only thing is, it's a nuisance to have no visual check on our position. None of our instruments can penetrate the field. Only way we can tell how close to the Sun we are is from the amount of gravitational compression of the McTaggart field." 

"Still, better to be blind than roast alive. I don't fancy being a Sunday roast for the Sun-Gods." 

"You might end up as that yet, Captain. We all might. We're subjecting our field to a strain that it's never experienced before." 

Burt mopped his brow. It wasn't really hot inside the Sunskimmer. It was just that the thought of the seething Sun only a few minutes' flight away was enough to make the bravest man sweat. There was only a delicate field of force between them and ravening destruction. Captain Burt began to chew anxiously on his lower lip. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

A great commotion awoke Senator Williamson. He grunted with annoyance and glanced at the luminous chronometer by his bedside. It read 3 A.M., standard time. He swore beneath his breath. He wasn't accustomed to being woken in the middle of the night. What on Earth - or Luna - was all that nonsense in aid of? He would get no peace until he found out. Having reasoned thus, he was in the process of getting out of bed when a wild-eyed and dishevelled technician rushed into his room without even knocking. 

"What the Hell is going on?" the Senator shouted. "First of all I'm woken up in the middle of the night by a lot of shouting and yelling, and then you come bursting in here without so much as a knock." 

"I'm very sorry, sir," the tech. said hurriedly, "but we've got an emergency of sorts on our hands. It's nothing for you to worry about, though," he added hurriedly, although the tone of his voice implied that that was not the entire truth. Senator Williamson prided himself on his ability to read men's faces. He could see that this fellow was lying. He opened his mouth to question the technician further, but the man was already speaking: 

"Mr. Yancy said for you to remain where you are, sir, and everything'll be all right." Then, with a hurried salute, he turned, and was gone from the room. 

Left alone once more, Williamson frowned to himself. No cause for worry, eh? That fellow had looked plenty worried. There was obviously something afoot - something that that damned fellow Yancy wanted to keep hidden from him. Well, he'd show him a thing or two. Mouth set purposefully, the senator slipped on his trousers and shirt and left his room, heading for the control room. 

He found a burly guard outside the door to the control room. "No admittance," snapped the man. Then he recognised Williamson. 

"Uh, senator," he stammered. "I .. er .. that is, Mr. Yancy told me....." 

"To keep me out, I've no doubt," Williamson snapped. "Well, you're not going to succeed. Stand aside." 

Reluctantly, the guard complied, and the Senator congratulated himself that his command over men was still just as great as it had ever been. Had he seen the meticulous care with which that scene had been rehearsed he might not have been so eager to commend himself. 

But he did not know, and so he was fooled by the looks of surprise on the faces of Yancy and Madden when he burst into the control room. 

"Ah, Mr. Yancy," he said acidly. "Be so good as to explain just what is going on." Then, as Yancy opened his mouth to answer: "And I want the truth, too." 

Yancy stared savagely at him. "All right, senator. You want the truth. You shall have it. This whole station is about to be destroyed." 

Whatever Williamson had expected, it was not that. Suddenly he had lost control of the situation. "What," he bleated inanely. "What was that?" 

"I said the goddam station's about to blow up," Yancy repeated. 

"B-but, how?" 

Yancy sighed deeply. "I suppose that it'll do no harm to tell you," he said wearily, "seeing as how it's due to you and others like you that we're in this mess." 

"Me?" 

"Listen, and you'll find out what I mean. As you know, the purpose of this station, and the others like it, is to intercept the neutrino beams emitted by the sunskimmer stations, convert them automatically into raw power, and beam that power down to Earth for industrial use. Due to the economies that you and your kind have forced upon us, we are forced to operate on a shoestring, with virtually no spares, and a skeleton staff." 

"Well, I knew that this situation couldn't go on indefinitely without some sort of serious trouble. I guess it's sort of ironic that it's come when you were up here, but that may be poetic justice." 

"What's happened, man?" shouted the senator excitedly. 

"There's been a flare up in the Sun. Normally, that wouldn't affect us at all, we'd just store the extra energy in the spare coils, and be grateful for it. But the switching system has gone on the blink, and that's what brings the spare coils into operation. The upshot of it all is that the extra energy is being stored in the main coils. Pretty soon," he indicated a screen with a red line on it, "when the pointer crosses the red line, in fact, the coils will overload and this entire station will be blown off the face of the Moon." 

"But, surely, you must be able to repair the switching system." 

"Hell, we're trying, of course, but we have neither the necessary spares, nor enough engineers to fit what we have got in time to be any use. No, I'm afraid that this station is finished." 

"Can't we evacuate?" 

"Hah. The last lot of economies forced us to give up all our ground vehicles. We were told that if we wanted transport, it would be sent over from the Main Base. All very well, but they could never get even a rocket here in time to be any use. We have only a few minutes left. We could leave the base on foot, of course, but we would still be near the station when it went up - too near. No, there is no escape." 

Williamson licked dry lips as the pointer crept ever nearer the red line. He was not to know that in fact no power was entering the receiving coils at that very moment. In order to carry through his deception Yancy had been forced to shut off the converters that turned the raw neutrinos into useable energy. At the moment the beam was passing undisturbed through the station, through the entire bulk of the Moon, in fact, and on into deep space. What a waste. But it had been necessary to do it, or they could never have faked up the readings. Actually, it was not such a great catastrophe. The supply to Earth would not be interrupted. Before they had shut off the convertors, the neutrino influx from the sunskimmer had been increasing, from the small flare that Madden had mentioned, and they had been able to build up a reserve of power, enough to maintain the supply to Earth while the convertors were shut off. In fact, Yancy reflected, the power increase in that period had been quite staggering. If he had not known better, he would have almost thought that it could have reached a dangerous level. Still, it could not hurt them now. In any case, the whole idea was ludicrous - the sunskimmer stations always kept a perfect grasp on the situation. 

And he had more important things to think about at the moment. From the corner of his eye he watched the Senator's face as the pointer crept nearer the red line. Williamson turned a pale face to him. "I'm sorry, Yancy," he croaked. 

"All this is my fault. If I hadn't kicked up such a fuss about your budget you'd've had the spares .. the manpower. I ...." 

Yancy looked grim. "Think nothing of it," he muttered. "It'll do us no good now." 

"We might still have a chance," Madden put in. "If the guys can fix up the switching system in time..." 

"No," rapped Yancy. "Look!" 

The three men in the control room gazed in horror as the pointer crept up to the red line, wavered, and then passed it. 

There was a thud. 

Yancy turned to Madden. "The senator's fainted," he observed. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

In the centre of a huge prominence which tossed it about like a cork on a stormy sea, the Sunskimmer station descended to the incandescent photosphere of the Sun. The gigantic arching flame had carried them down more swiftly than Solar gravity alone could possibly have done. It had erupted from the Sun thousands of miles away, arched up into the pearly corona, and caught the station on its way down. From the speed of their descent, measured by the rate of gravitational compression on the McTaggart field, Captain Burt had guessed what had happened. The force field protected them from the fierce solar ravages, and also the titanic gravitational pull. Masterson had left her team still trying to repair the focusing equipment, and come up to join the Captain in his final throw. 

"We're still going down," she said, "but not fast enough. The neutrino outflow is still increasing." 

"It's going to be touch and go," Burt agreed. "It's a good thing that we got caught up in this prominence. We'd never have got down to the surface in time, relying on the Sun's gravity alone." 

The little metal station, enclosed in the fantastically strong, yet critically delicate protecting field of force, was hurled down towards the inner, denser levels of the Sun's surface, in a fantastic race between the compressing power of gravity and the ever-increasing outflow of neutrinos from the solar flare. With desperation brought about by helplessness, Burt realised that the flare was winning. 

"The neutrino rate is increasing too fast," he muttered. "We're not going to do it. I can't understand it. I could have sworn that my theory was perfect. We should have escaped the majority of the flux. Our field can only be a few miles in diameter by now." 

Masterson grimaced. "Yes," she agreed. "Unless..." 

"Unless what?" 

"Unless this damned prominence has carried us down into the solar flare itself. Into it's heart." 

"What?" 

"Yes. It's the only explanation. Look, suppose that IS what's happened. We'd be picking up the mass of neutrinos from the flare at source, instead of scooping them up after they've dissipated through a few thousand miles of space. No wonder we're still getting an increasing rate of inflow. We're inside the factory where the goddam things are being produced." 

Burt cursed. "Of all the damn bad luck, to come down right in the flare. Still, you must be right. Look, the level's gone right over the danger mark." 

"Hell. Goodbye Lunar receiving station No. RM 12." 

"And the senator." 

"Oh well, we tried," Masterson muttered. "The point is now, can we get out of this mess ourselves?" 

"If we're in the flare itself, that shouldn't be too hard," Burt averred. "There's a terrific outflow of energy from a flare. At the moment the force of our descent is being spent counteracting that outflow. When our acceleration is nullified, as it soon will be, the flare will spit us back into space again. Once we're a few thousand miles out, we can bring our drive into operation - use our force field to set up a magnetic field opposite in polarity to the Sun's own, which will repel us out beyond the orbit of Mercury. A rescue ship can pick us up out there, once we can get a radio message through." 

Masterson glanced at the gauges. "Yep, I think you're right," she said. "The field's expanding again. We're on our way up again." 

The intercom flashed. Burt took the call. He shook his head as he turned back to Masterson. "That was your repair gang," he said. "They've repaired the focusing equipment." 

The engineer laughed shortly. "But a bit too late to be of any use," she observed. 

Burt nodded sadly. "Yes. It was a pity we couldn't save the Luna station. But we did try. No-one could have done more." 

They returned sadly to their own cabins to pass the long journey out of the Sun's area of influence. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

Dan Yancy leaned back in the soft chair and put down his drink. "..And of course," he concluded, "the neutrino power programme has got an immense boost. Our budget has been doubled, our equipment updated, and I can sleep nights. All on Senator Williamson's recommendation. The folk down on Earth are a bit worked up over our increased expenditure, but costs will drop down soon, with the increased efficiency our new equipment has made possible, and then they'll really be getting value for their cash." 

Captain Burt shook his head and smiled wanly. "I must say that I never expected to be sitting here in Moonbase, drinking with you. I thought you'd be fried to a crisp when our beam overloaded." 

"So we should have been, if the convertors had been in operation. But, as luck would have it, we had to shut them off so's we could fix up the gauges to give the Senator a scare." 

Burt laughed. "You'd have had a real scare if you hadn't shut them off," he said. "But, come on now, I've told you how we got away from the Sun - it's your turn to do the talking. What did you tell Williamson when you revived him?" 

"Oh, I told him that the guys had repaired the switching system at the last minute. He was in no position to argue. He just wanted to get out of the station as quickly as possible." 

"And when he got back to Earth he recommended the increased budget?" 

"Yes. I was afraid for a time that he might recommend the shutting down of all the stations. That was his only alternative. But he realised that Earth would be crippled without neutrino power, so his only course was to make the stations safe by slotting them more funds." 

"And what's he doing now?" 

"Oh, he won't give us any more trouble. He's one of the space programme's most enthusiastic advocates these days. I think he's switched his attention to domestic spending now." 

"Well, God help the consumers of Earth in that case," Burt said fervently. 

Yancy nodded, glancing up through the transparent plastex dome towards the dark sky above. The Sun was just rising over the distant crater rim. 

"We'd better move," he suggested. "The Sun shines pretty fiercely through these transparent domes. We don't want to go down with a nasty case of sunburn, do we?" 

And they left the recreation dome, arms linked, and laughing fit to burst. 



 