"Yeah, but--" "You fix her up and we'll forget it." "But suppose--" "Doc, is it that bad?" "I can not deny that she would be infinitely better off if you were here. She needs an emotional lift." "I'm trying." "I know, lad, but the next ship off of Pluto is in five days and then four more days of flight at a killing drive. Nine interminable days." McBride debated the advisability of telling Caldwell of their experiment, but decided against it. If he said anything about the possibility of getting there sooner, Caldwell might tell Enid on the chance that it might do her some good. On the other hand, if Enid thought he were coming, and he did not come, the shock-- "O.K., Doc. We'll get there somehow." "We'll keep fighting," said Caldwell. He hung up the phone as Hammond spoke into the communicator. "Sunward at thirty feet per," he said. "Thirty feet per," answered Drake. "And may we not get burned!" "Trusting soul," observed Hammond. Sandra thrust the main lever home with a savage motion. Deftly she juggled the steering levers until the ship pointed at Sol. "We're off," she said. "Hold your hats!" * * * * * The accelerometer climbed by the second. It hit one hundred feet per, and then slowed in its climb, approaching one twenty in an exponential curve. In the other room, a step-by-step switch continued to click off the contacts, and the generators in the turbine room whined higher and higher up the scale. Minutes passed and became a half hour. "We're in," said McBride, with a deep exhalation. "But how in the name of sin can we tell what our acceleration is?" "The Hooke type of accelerometer is useless when we neutralize the gravity-apparent," agreed Hammond. "We're going to have some inventing to do." "I wonder what the limit of our acceleration is," said Jimmy. "It can't be infinite, because the mechanogravitic generator above can take only so much--" The inertia switches went out with startling clicks, and the weight-loaded rheostats whirred home to zero. Relays danced madly as the acceleration went to zero once more. "Right back where we started from," came the pained voice of Sandra Drake. "Can't you birds think of something practical?" She thrust the main control home once more, hooking it up to the automatic circuit that Larry had installed. The acceleration began again. "Now we'll have some more jackrabbit drive--but with a longer jump," said Drake cynically. "We'll have to limp all the way to the Lens on this drive," said McBride. "It isn't too good, but I can't see--" "I'm tired of this jerky stuff," said Sandra Drake entering the room. "It seems to me that you should be able to duplicate the mess you have here by something similar up in the nose." "Yes?" asked Steve Hammond politely. He was interested but not impressed.