The Black Star Passes - John W. Campbell (reading cloud ebooks txt) 📗

Fuller, Morey junior, and his own father, Arcot had connected their many complicated circuits.

“Son,” remarked Arcot senior, looking critically at the great switchboard, with its maze of connections, its many rheostats and controls, and its heavy bus bar connectors behind it, “no one man can keep an eye on all those instruments. I certainly hope you have a good-sized crew to operate your controls! We’ve spent two days getting all those circuits together, and I’ll admit that some of them still have me beat. I don’t see how you intend to watch all those instruments, and at the same time have any idea what’s going on outside.”

“Oh,” laughed Arcot junior, “these aren’t intended for constant watching. They’re merely helps in a lot of tests I want to make. I want to use this as a flying laboratory so I can determine the necessary powers and the lowest factor of safety to use in building other machines. The machine is very nearly completed now. All we need is the seats⁠—they are to be special air-inflated gyroscopically controlled seats, to make it impossible for a sudden twist of the ship to put the strain in the wrong direction. Of course the main gyroscopes will balance the ship laterally, horizontally, and vertically, but each chair will have a separate gyroscopic mounting for safety.”

“When do you expect to start after the Pirate?” Fuller asked.

“I plan to practice the manipulation of the machine for at least four days,” Arcot replied, “before I try to chase the Pirate. I’d ordinarily recommend the greatest haste, but the man has stolen close to ten million already, and he’s still at it. That would not be done by anyone in his right mind. I suppose you’ve heard, the War Department considers his new gas so important that they’ve obtained a pardon for him on condition they be permitted to have the secret of it. They demand the return of the money, and I have no doubt he has it. I am firmly convinced that he is a kleptomaniac. I doubt greatly if he will stop taking money before he is caught. Therefore it will be safe to wait until we can be sure of our ability to operate the machine smoothly. Any other course would be suicidal. Also, I am having some of those toolmakers make up a special type of molecular motion machine for use as a machine gun. The bullets are steel, about three inches long, and as thick as my thumb. They will be perfectly streamlined, except for a little stabilizer at the tail, to guide ’em. They won’t spin as a rifle bullet does, and so there will be no gyroscopic effect to hold them nose on, but the streamlining and the stabilizer will keep them on their course. I expect them to be able to zip right through many inches of armour plate, since they will have a velocity of over four miles a second.

“They’ll be fed in at the rate of about two hundred a minute⁠—faster if I wish, and started by a small spring. They will instantly come into the field of a powerful molecular motion director, and will be shot out with terrific speed. It will be the first rifle ever made that could shoot bullets absolutely parallel to the ground.

“But that is all we can do today. The guns will be mounted outside, and controlled electrically, and the charts will be installed tomorrow. By the day after tomorrow at eight a.m. I plan to take off!”

The work the next day was rushed to completion far earlier than Arcot had dared to hope. All the men had been kept isolated at the farm, lest they accidentally spread the news of the new machine. It was with excited interest that they helped the machine to completion. The guns had not been mounted as yet, but that could wait. Mid-afternoon found the machine resting in the great construction shed, completely equipped and ready to fly!

“Dick,” said Morey as he strode up to him after testing the last of the gyroscopic seats, “she’s ready! I certainly want to get her going⁠—it’s only three-thirty, and we can go around to the sunlight part of the world when it gets dark at the speeds we can travel. Let’s test her now!”

“I’m just as anxious to start as you are, Bob. I’ve sent for a U.S. Air Inspector. As soon as he comes we can start. I’ll have to put an ‘X’ license indication on her now. He’ll go with us to test it⁠—I hope. There will be room for three other people aboard, and I think you and Dad and I will be the logical passengers.”

He pointed excitedly. “Look, there’s a government helicopter coming. Tell the men to get the blocks from under her and tow her out. Two power trucks should do it. Get her at least ten feet beyond the end of the hangar. We’ll start straight up, and climb to at least a five mile height, where we can make mistakes safely. While you’re tending to that, I’ll see if I can induce the Air Inspector to take a trip with us.”

Half an hour later the machine had been rolled entirely out of the shed, on the new concrete runway.

The great craft was a thing of beauty shimmering in the bright sunlight The four men who were to ride in it on its maiden voyage stood off to one side gazing at the great gleaming metal hull. The long sweeping lines of the sides told a story of perfect streamlining, and implied high speed, even at rest. The bright, slightly iridescent steel hull shone in silvery contrast to the gleaming copper of the power units’ heat-absorption fins. The great clear windows in the nose and the low, streamlined air intake for the generator seemed only to accentuate the graceful lines of the machine.

“Lord, she’s a beauty, isn’t she, Dick!” exclaimed Morey, a broad smile of pleasure on his face.

“Well, she did