where mass was infinite, thrust would also be infinite. And if the thrust-mass equation involved a suitable exponential function—in theory, anyway—thrust could become transfinite ."
"Making it possible to go faster than light!" said Olivera excitedly. "Yes, yes, Dr. Ching. If there ever is an Overdrive, it will have to be developed along those lines! Tell me, how close are you?"
Ching laughed bitterly. "As I said, perhaps as much as twenty years away. Who can tell? Right now, all I have is a point of view, a direction in which to proceed. I must experiment with substitutions, then I must develop the proper thrust-mass equation. And at that point, the real work only begins. I must then develop a theoretical basis for a drive that can utilize the thrust-mass equation, a drive, where, not only does thrust depend on mass, but in the precise proper function as well. It's a very long way off."
"But man, it would be an Overdrive!"
"Not even then," said Ching. "That would be the end of my work, and the beginning of someone else's. I am not a practical scientist. Someone else would have to take my equations and develop the actual Overdrive."
He sighed and shrugged. "That's why I can't understand why Earth won't let me be. All I want is to be free to develop my equations. It's my whole life! I could build no drive, I—"
"When you rule an empire of more than sixty planets, over a time differential of over two hundred years," said Captain Peter Reed, "you must plan and plot far ahead. You must take a very long view."
"Well, now that we know what we've got," said Olivera, "what are we going to do about it?"
Captain Reed drummed his fingers nervously on the desk top. "I'll be damned if I know," he said. "Fact: an Overdrive would be the greatest commercial coup in history. Fact: it would take about twenty years to develop one, from the start we have. And finally, fact: we will have to let ben Ezra aboard on our next planetfall. He'll be waiting for us, and there'll be no escaping. That's why he's let us get this far. This, gentlemen, is what is known as a bind."
"Time," said Ching absently, "why does it always come down to time? The Overdrive wouldn't even be necessary, if it weren't for the time factor. Then Earth would've let me continue my work unmolested. And now, it's a matter of time before ben Ezra gets me, too little time—"
"You're a mathematician," said Peter Reed. "You should know that time underlies the Universe, space . . . history—"
"Time," said Olivera. "Peter, we've just got to save the Overdrive! It's bigger than us; it's bigger even than the Outward Bound . It's bigger than Earth! We've just got to buy the time, somehow ."
"Twenty years," said Peter Reed. "In twenty days , we'll have to go into Deep Sleep, or we'll run the risk of depleting our oxygen, our food, our water. And when we come out, Jacob ben Ezra will be waiting for us."
A slow, grim smile parted Ching's tight lips. "Twenty years—" he said slowly. "Captain, where are we heading?"
"Out to the outer ring, maybe to Toehold."
"And how long will such a trip take?"
"About a hundred and twenty years."
"Captain," said Ching, "we don't all have to go into Deep Sleep, do we? There would be enough food and air for, say, one man to stay awake, for say, twenty years? "
Peter Reed suddenly became aware of the feverish glow of the abstract fanatic in Ching's eyes.
"You mean you would stay out of Deep Sleep? You would die in space, in the nothing between the stars? You would be alone, utterly alone , for twenty years."
"I am well aware of the consequences, captain. Nevertheless, it would enable me to complete my work. That is all that matters. Could it be done?"
Reed stared wonderingly at the small man. "Sure. There'd be plenty of food and air for one man to do it. By a factor of ten, at least."
"Well then, captain?"
"Are you sure, Dr. Ching? It's one thing to talk about it now, but when you've been alone for one, five, ten years—"
"I