Of course, we do have the ability to build starships, Chelan answered.  The detail simply has been overlooked.

We do Where?

Beta drives historically optimized for efficiency not FTL speed.  They are still not that efficient. Why bother when you can build alpha cores.  And beta cores will not take you through warp points.  However, beta drive will give you a moderate FTL capacity, likely improvable with design studies, and with moderate FTL, say 10c, you can reach a few of the nearer stars in a tolerable period of time, though you would want large crew quarters not barracks.

 The Spy Who Was Caught Cold

The communicator on Tara Broadhurt’s desk gave the quadruple chime indicating an incoming call of the highest urgency.  Bulger Space Yard’s Senior Legal Officer glowered at the telephone, noticed that it was stubbornly refusing to slag down, and picked up the receiver. 

“Bulger Space Yard, Broadbent here,” she said, trying to be cheery to whoever was calling.

“Miss Broadbent,  this is Platoon Leader William Sykes.  We have a situation.”  Sykes paused.  “We detained someone who hopped the fence.  He claims he is a Stellar Republic diplomat, is immune to arrest, but has no identification papers. Also, he was carrying all sorts of electronic spy gear.”

“I see, William,” Tara answered.  “I’ll be out there in a bit.”

“Thank you,” William said.  “We’re next to the Guard House.  Please wait for your security detail.  The Seldon Legion never sleeps, but we’re perpetually undermanned.”

A short time later, Tara marched across the parking lot, her escort spaced out to each side.  It was a brisk day, the bright sun low on the horizon doing little to warm the air, but her long wool coat kept her warm.  A gaggle of Legionaires,  some facing out to watch the perimeter fence, stood in a circle surrounding a young man.

“What’s all this?” she asked as she approached. 

“Ma’am, he jumped the fence,” Sykes explained.  “When we tried to detain him, he tried to run, so we used a stunner on him, searched him carefully, returned personal property – wallet, keys, change purse, little black book of girlfriends, pocket chronometer, and segregated all his spy equipment.”

“I am Pierre Descamps.  I am being illegally detained,” the young man in the center announced.  “As a member of the Stellar Republic’s diplomatic staff, I’m not subject to arrest. ”

“What does his passport say?” Tara asked.

“He’s carrying no ID, ma’am,” Sykes answered.  “He says he forgot to bring it. He is not carrying a personal communicator. He arrived by walking down from Observation Point Park. There’s no vehicle there, nor any sign of how he got there. And he was carrying all sorts of electronic spy equipment.”

* * * * *

Later in the afternoon, Travis appeared at the Sheriff’s office.

“Winston,” Travis said, “I did the calculations, and Elaine checked them. She’s smarter than me, and more careful.  I also brought a map.  We need it back.”

Winston pointed at a large table and helped weight down the map’s corners.

“The penciled crosses,” Travis explained, “are points where someone accurately measured the edge of the heath.  The small hole,” he pointed at the map’s center, “is where we had a map pin, when we had this up on our wall.  It’s the center of a circle through all those crosses.  It’s also directly under the star, as accurately as we could measure it.”

“Need the Army Air Corps,” Winston said, “fly up to the star, invite the people to land and explain themselves.  That’s ‘invite’ with fifty-caliber machine guns.”

“Bit of a challenge here.”  Travis shook his head.  “World airplane altitude record is not quite 35,000 feet.  Balloons do no better. That whatever-it-is is hovering at 70,000 feet.”

“That’s…there’s almost no air up there.” Winston said dubiously.  “What holds it up? How are the people up there propelling themselves, holding in place against the wind?  For that matter, how are they breathing?  I think there’s wind at seventy thousand feet.”

“No idea.” Travis shrugged.

“This is a job for the Army, not the local sheriff,” Winston said.  “I’ll have to tell Gramps when he gets back.”

Soon enough Radnor Cooper returned.  He was not in a good temper.

“Damfool Governor”, Radnor said to the entire station house, “says there’s a panic in Phoenix, people packing and leaving town.  He says the Heath is perfectly safe, horses just got into a patch of locoweed, one those troopers and their sergeant didn’t notice.  And that got the men?  Crazy! Not to mention there are no plants anywhere on the Heath.  So, being an idiot, Governor’s going to march out into the Heath, take some state troopers along for company, set up camp, and spend three days there.  Legislature is in session.  He has to wait a few weeks for that to be over.  He’s going to come back in perfect health, he says, and that’ll put paid to the crazy rumors.”

“Panic?” Winston asked.  “People here are calm.  A bunch had friends who died, well, we think they died, on the Heath.  They want to string up the guilty parties, when they catch them.  I’m piling up a list of names, people who’re missing.”

“Indeed,” Elaine said, “we delayed the flight of the Mighty Hauler 2 in case you had any final questions about its patent issues.”

“Caution is always wise.”  Tzoltzin nodded.  “However, my final inspection, last visit, is legally binding, so your ship is free to fly.   If the weather improves before then, I would be pleased to watch it ascend.  It is so rare that I see anything new and different in starship design, not that your ship is, with only beta drives, a true starship.”

“Beta drives are faster-than-light,” Elaine said, “an action my recent ancestors thought was impossible, so on paper the Mighty Hauler 2 could travel to another nearby star. Eventually.  I would strongly discourage trying it; it’s not designed to spend a year in space without ground maintenance.  However, its sole mission it to fly from here to Proserpine, a distance of 100 light hours, load with iron-nickel, and fly back.”

“My intruments claim that your drive, “ Tzoltzin pointed, “is a match of the root design.  Now we test it under power – levitation to a few foot-lengths off the ground is adequate.”

“Elaine pointed at the technicians and gave a thumb’s-up.  “Bring the drive to test height,” she called.  There followed  a quarter-hour of one component after the next being powered up, until the entire assembly was filled with pale white light, following which the drive obediently climbed and hovered.

“The root drive is very definitely not what you would want on a warship that might scramble in an emergency,” Elaine said.

“Scramble – mix?  No scramble, run fast.”  Tzoltzin nodded. “No, you would not want that, not unless you are not bothered that the occasional takeoff includes an unscheduled disassembleation event. I would find this undesireable, also, though some species would disagree with us.  Now we get to wait again.”

“I hope that you may advise Legate Bronkowski that we’re doing nothing improper,” Elaine observed.

“The Legate…Oh, you must not have heard,” Tzoltzin said.  “The Legate has been recalled to Mogado.  According to one of your newspapers, he had certain secret objectives for the betterment of the Republic, did not attain them, so he is being sent someplace more suited to his doubtless redoubtable talents.”

“I certainly had not heard that,” Elaine said.  She took another sip of her tea.  “Did they also leak, err, politely reveal, what his objectives had been?  After all, as a space shipping company,we and in particular the  boss, view positive and amicable relations with the Stellar Republic as a positive outcome.”

“They didn’t,” Tzoltzin said.  “They instead circulated the malicious rumor that he had been charged with sabotaging the Anglic Union, so that you would be obliged to adhere to the Republic, an outcome that I believe neither you nor Doctor Chelan would find desirable.”

“Whoever told him to do that,” Elaine said, “not that I believe that such a rumor could be true, must have had an extremely optimistic view of the ambassador’s ability to determine the course of events on our planet.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re sketching something through that telescope,” she answered.  “Looks like no airplane I’ve ever seen.”

“Yes, and it’s a poor sketch,” Winston confessed.

“May I?”  She put on a  warm smile.  “My job is hurry up and wait, so during waits I make drawings…folks on the East Coast pay money for them.  Not a lot, but my brother sells them in his gallery.”

“Travis, do we have time?” Winston asked. 

Travis nodded.  “Ma’am, please do  not bump anything, but there’s a focusing screw.”

Winston and Travis watched while Melanie drew. 

“I’ll need a straight-edge,” she finally announced, “to bring out the lines better, because that thing is a bunch of boxes, not round like a blimp. I expect the local paper will pay for a copy.”

“For sure,” Travis said.  “Dad has breakfast most days with the editor, who is mightily displeased the Phoenix papers scooped his reporting on the Heath.”

“And I’d appreciate a copy also,” Winston announced.  “Grandpa — Radnor Cooper, he’s the Sheriff — put me in charge of investigating all the people who died, and catching the guilty parties who killed them.”

“Thank you for letting me make a sketch,” Melanie said. “Back to work for me.”

“Looks like what I saw,” Travis said,  “but a much better drawing than I could’ve done.  Now the fun part.”  He spent some time fiddling with the pointing screws, then wrote down a pair of numbers.  Winston wrote down the same pair.

“Off to the other edge of town,” Travis finally  announced.  “Then I get to do some spherical trig.  Wait, you said what your Harvard degree was.  You can check my work…if I write it out clearly.”

“Sounds good to me,” Winston agreed.  “Except, we get the car back, it’s close to one, so I propose lunch at the Trinity House Cafe, that being where gramps, ummh, Sheriff Winston, covers my meals.  That’s good, because I’m not actually paid.  I’m working off a loan he made to me.”

“I need to stop at the office, return the theodolite and car keys, and tell my kid sister to come along,” Travis said. “She always arrives first, gets to leave last for lunch, never complains.”

“Indeed, you have.  Time for my instruments to run my tests,” Tzoltzin nodded appreciatively.  “You are attesting that this is the root drive on the alpha drive patent tree?”

“We so attest.  We hope it is the true first drive,” Elaine answered, “and requested an inspection to confirm that it matches the unpatentable root design. We recognize the possibility that we have misinterpreted some aspect of the specifications, however clear they seem to be.”

“Our treaty allows rebuilds to come into compliance with the specifications. My instruments will take a while to do check.  Perhaps for the nonce we should sit, let them do their work, and drink more of your excellent tea.”  Tzoltzin waddled back to the tea table.

“I’ve made a fresh pot,” Mabel Brixton said.

“Excellent.  This will take a while,” Tzoltzin said.  “The root drive is extremely large and complex, though in a sense it is simplicity itself.  Each part has only one function.  I do have a  note to myself, to remind you that there is a shape patent on changing the drive field shape.”

“You are referring to the surviving First Empire patent on these?” Elaine asked innocently.

“Precisely,” Tzoltzin agreed.  “The First Empire let the inventors gain a patent that covers ‘any design change that leads to the same effect’, in particular any design change that changes the volume englobed by the drive field from the useless pancake to the sensible cigar. And, indeed, there is such a shape patent, in the hands of – it’s in the files.”

“That’s all right,” Elaine said.  “Our interest is in validating that we actually built the root design.”

“A highly interesting choice,” Tzoltzin said.  “Perhaps someday I will learn why you find this choice interesting.”

“Indeed,” Elaine said. 

“On the other hand,” Tzoltzin said, “I am reminded of visiting here once and again, watching you build your new heavily over-built test bed, observed your delight that it flew using beta drives – a completely unsurprising event, since the quality of your precision construction is perfectly sound – and being entirely baffled that you then incorporated it into a freighter hauler of unconventional oblate discoidal form, a hauler soon to fly.”

“Of course, Dad,” Travis said. 

Twenty minutes later, Winston and Travis stood at the edge of town. Further out were several corrals with a few horses. The blue star was clearly in sight.

“Calm day,” Travis said.  “Cool for once, meaning less shimmer in the air.  Your job is to stand back and look important while I set this thing up.  It’s a one-man job, and this device is expensive.”

Another five minutes and Travis, sitting on a low stool, stared through the theodolite’s telescope. 

“Amazing,” he said.  “I can see the zepp.  Easier if I rotate the scope, just enough that that light is well off axis.  Here, take a look.  Careful, do not bump the stand.”

Winston took his turn.  “Remarkable.  What is it? Do we have enough time for me to sketch it?”

“Be my guest.”

Winston pulled a pad and pencil from his carryall.  Lines flew across the paper.  After not long, he stopped.  “Close enough for amateur work,” he announced. 

He realized that there was now a third person standing politely back but looking over his shoulder at his drawing.  He turned his head, stood, and politely tipped his hat.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” Winston said.  “Wasn’t that you at the railroad station?”

“You have a good eye for faces,” she answered.  “I’m Melanie Hayes.  Boss got my telegram, said wait here, so I’m picking up some spending money guarding the company’s corral and feeding a few horses.  Our regular here heard about the Heath, the bodies, the cavalry, and announced he and wife were visiting relatives. In Ireland.”

“I’m Winston Cooper, Associate Sheriff, and this gentleman is Travis Spencer.   Guarding?” Winston asked. “This is a law-abiding town.”

“A few nights ago, the night the Heath appeared, the horses were spooked,” Melanie answered.  “O’Hara, he was our night guard, thought there was a mountain lion. He heard its growl, didn’t see anything.”

“I eagerly endorse this proposal of transport,” Tzoltzin said.  “And, while it may surprise you, one of the things I do wish to experience, before I return home, is a polar blizzard.  While safe, of course, behind heavy window panes.  After all, your planet is something of an extreme, for a place where intelligence developed, in terms of its polar axial tilt.”

The Test Facility foyer was pleasantly warm.  Tzoltzin slipped from his raincoat and gratefully accepted the first of a stack of warm towels. 

“On my home world,” he said, “at least the parts fit for habitation, rain falls in the warm months, almost always at night. I fear that my weather gear was not intended for such a challenging storm.”

“Apologies,” Elaine said.  “And if in the future one of your inspections would coincide with severe weather, we will see if we can adjust to your schedule.”

“That is most kind,” Tzoltzin said, “but I shall not quail before the inclemencies of nature.  Nagging my compatriots to design more effective winter clothing seems more to the point.  I do, however, smell tea steeping.”  He accepted a large mug, inhaled deeply the steam rising from its top, nodded, and drank. 

“You have the perfect temperature,” he announced.  “Though if I recall correctly, human palates will prefer it a bit cooler. “  More of his tea disappeared down his throat.  “I would happily sit here and drink, but I fear that my duty must come first.  Lieutenant, please see that at least some of the tea is left for me?  And now let us advance to see your device.”

Bulger Alpha Drive 0 was parked on its pedestal.  Three technicians sat in front of control consoles, ready to power the device up if requested.  Tzoltzin waddled in a large circle around the drive, admiring it from all sides, stopping once and again to admire the design.

“This alpha drive unit,” the Inspector said politely,  “It’s enormous.  This is the true first drive, I gather?  Truthfully, not only have I never seen one, but I gather that one has not been built since sometime in the First Empire.  Does it achieve lift?”

“We’ve done extensive tethered tests,” Elaine answered, “as specified in the design description.  There was some need to tune a few components, but we now see the power curve in the specifications.

“If I appear slow to advance to the tests, it is because I am reminded of being a little boy.  My parents would bring me to our provincial capitol, where there was The Museum of Patents, with exhibits of devices protected by law.  There on a pedestal was a replica – non-functional – of the very first alpha drive, in the form of a quarter-scale replica.  I was a little boy; I thought it was very big.  I saw it during the reign of the Jinjur Emperor Miktos the 57th.”

“If it might explain what happened…I knew some of the people who vanished…I’m happy to help,” Spencer said firmly.  “I have a stack of people who want me, pronto, to resurvey for the new rail line.  There are patches where the ground slumped.  Or so the cavalry said.”

“Sir,” Winston said, “I can’t tell you what to do, this being a free country, but I respectfully urge you not to send anyone into the heath.  That cavalry troop that rode through it.  They lost three horses, the rest looked sick, and the men looked less than well.”

“Dad,” the man at the nearest desk said, “it’s now eight horses, three men in the hospital, docs don’t know why.  Some sort of poison.”

“Oh,” James said, “Mister Cooper, this is my son Travis.” He paused while the two men shook hands.  “I think I don’t need any more persuading about taking that railroad job.  Someone else can do it.  So what height do you need measured?”

“At a guess, it’s a hovering dirigible,” Winston said.  “It’s above, more or less, the middle of the heath. The men who flew over the Heath and took all the newspaper photos spotted it.  It’s been there at least since the day after the blasting.”

“Long time for a zepp to hover,”  Travis said. 

“All I can see, naked eye, looks like a star,” Winston explained.  But from here it’s more or less due south, and from Phoenix it’s more or less due north.  Can’t be a star.”

“When that pilot flew around the heath, a couple times, did he ever see it?” Travis asked.

“I asked him that,” Winston said, “the second and third time he showed up.  He said, when he flew around the heath,  counterclockwise, just outside of it, this star was always at his nine o’clock, no matter if he was flying north, south, east, or west.”

“I’m game,” Travis said.  “Dad, I’ll need the large theodolite, and borrow the car.  I’ve never done a star—what looks like a star—but it must be a good target. Stars are points, after all.  East and west ends of town should be good.”

“With my blessings,” James said.  “I was at Suzy Jameson’s wedding, helped deliver her second daughter.  Once for that was enough.  Please catch the bastards who did this.  I’ll happily help string them up.  After a fair trial, of course.”

“And thank you for your excellent guided tour of your very interesting spaceship.”  Tzoltzin put his hands across his chest, fingers downward, marking a polite end to the discussion.  Followed by his Adjutant, he returned to his air car.

There is now a gap of a fair number of years.

See the Alpha Core

Primary Atomic Spray Facility One

Bulger Shipyards, North California

Elaine Bell stood at one corner of the landing field, waiting for her expected guests.  Today was gray and rainy, a December chill having replaced the warmer weather.  Gusts of wind drove puddles across the landing field.

“Senor Inspector Tzoltzin’s aircar is on final approach,” the voice in her earbug announced,  “coming in at 270 true.  Takeoff of the Mighty Transporter II is being held until he lands.  Bulger Flight Control, out.”

She looked out over the waters of the Pacific.  The roar of the waves, driven by a storm still well off-shore, was unusually loud. Waterproof rain gear or not, she was facing into the wind, and could feel raindrops breaking across her face.  There, dipping below the cloud line was the bright Republic Orange of the Inspector’s air transport.   She felt the distinct hum of a vehicle landing with the support of an alpha drive core.  As it settled to earth, her freight transporter rolled forward, positioning itself as close as possible to the aircar’s now extending landing ramp.

Lieutenant Tashiro Junichiro appeared at the passenger hatch, made a cursory check of the surroundings, and marched down the ramp.  “Elaine,” he said as he reached bottom, “it is as always good to see you.  The Senior Inspector will follow in a moment; he is donning weather gear.”

“Apologies for the climate, but you can’t put a weather screen over a landing field,” Elaine said.

“Curiously, the Inspector said the same thing.  He grumbled about the expected near-polar weather.”

“We ran up the temperature inside the building,” Elaine said, “and have the stack of heated drying cloths that I gather are the Creztailian custom.  There is also hot tea.”

“Heated cloths are indeed the custom,” Junichiro said, “and he is fond of your Australian Keemun tea if it can be had.”

“Ready and waiting.”  Fortunately, Elaine thought, Mabel Brixton keeps careful notes on these things.

“And here is the Senior Inspector,” Lieutenant Tashiro announced. 

Inspector Tzoltzin waddled down the ramp, his batrachian snout pulled back under a long rain hood.  “Ah, Great Commander of Building Things Bell.  I am of course delighted to see you, despite your sad weather. Though I have read there are places north of here where the rain falls as beautiful white crystals, hopefully only to be seen from the far side of a thick pane of glass.”

“And I greet you also, Senior Inspector,” Elaine answered, her arms outstretched with palms up.  The Inspector repeated the gesture.  “However, be so kind as to step into the transporter, and we will be in someplace more comfortable in a few moments.  Of course, if you ever wish to see a snow storm, you could visit our Polar Coastline.”

And for those curious as to what I am doing, I just had accepted another technical paper, this one on polymer dynamics. There is a received standard model of how polymers, long stringy molecules, move if you take a block of polymer (think ‘plastic’), melt it, and measure polymer motions in the melt. The model unambiguous predicts that the average distance traveled climbs as time raised to some power, typical powers being 1/2 or 1/4. The prediction is completely wrong. One infers that the standard model, the reptation-tube model, is also wrong. Polymers do not move as t to some power, no matter which power you assume. The paper is somewhat more than 110 journal pages long, though much of it is graphs of computer simulation outputs.

I know have a stack of novels on which I am working, and will soon start on publishing another technical paper, though I am not sure which one.