So dense is matter inside a star, that a sudden cataclysm in the interior would take a million years to show up in a change in the amount of light leaving the surface.
But the sun doesn’t stop at the photosphere; the density of matter falls off slowly with height. If one included the ions and electrons that forever stream out into space in the solar wind — to cause auroras on Earth and to shape the plasma tails of comets — one might say that there was no real boundary to the Sun. It truly reaches out to touch the other stars.
The halo of the corona shimmers around the rim of the Moon during a Solar eclipse. The tendrils that seem so soft on a photographic plate are comprised of electrons heated to millions of degrees, but they are Diffuse, almost as thin, (and harmless to Sunships) as the Solar wind.
Between the photosphere and the corona lies the chromosphere, the “sphere of color”… the place where old Sol makes the final alterations to his light show, where he places his spectral signature on the sunshine Earthmen see.
Here the temperature suddenly plummets to its minimum, a “mere” few thousand degrees. The pulsing of the photospheric cells send ripples of gravitation upwards through the chromosphere, subtly strumming chords of space-time across millions of kilometers, and charged particles, riding the crests of Alfven waves, sweep outward in a mighty wind.
This was the domain of Sundiver. In the chromosphere, the Sun’s magnetic fields play games of tag, and simple chemical compounds ephemerally brew. One can see, if the right bands are chosen, for tremendous distances. And there is a lot to see.
Kepler was in his element, now. In the darkened room his hair and moustache glowed reddish in the light given off by the tank. His voice was confident as he used a slender rod to point out features of the chromosphere for his audience.
He told the story of the sunspot cycle, the alternating rhythm of high and low magnetic activity that flips polarity every eleven years. Magnetic fields “pop out” of the Sun to form complicated loops in the chromosphere — loops which could sometimes be traced by looking at the paths of the dark filaments in hydrogen light.
The filaments twisted around the field lines and glowed with complex induced electric currents. In close up they-looked less feathery than Jacob had at first thought. Bright and dark red strips knotted around one another all along the length of the arch, sometimes swirling in complicated patterns until some tightening knot squeezed closed and splattered bright droplets away like hot grease from a skillet.
It was numbingly beautiful, although! the red monochrome eventually made Jacob’s eyes hurt. He looked away from the tank and rested by staring at the wall of the viewing room.
The two days since Jeffrey had waved good-bye and taken his ship off to the Sun were mixed pleasure and frustration for Jacob. They had certainly been busy.
He saw the Hermetian mines yesterday. The great layered flows that filled huge hollowed caverns north of the base with smooth rainbowed crusts of pure metal startled Jacob with their beauty, and he stared in awe at the dwarfed machines and men that ate at their flanks. He would carry with him always the amazement he felt… at both the loveliness of the giant field of frozen melt and at the temerity of the tiny men who dared to disturb it for its treasure.
Also enjoyable was an afternoon spent in the company of Helene deSilva. In the lounge of her apartment she broke the seal on a bottle of alien brandy whose worth Jacob didn’t dare to calculate, and shared it all with him.
In a few hours he came to like the Base Commandant for her wit and the range of her interests, as well as for her pleasantly archaic flirtatious charm. They exchanged stories of peripheral interest, saving, by mute agreement, the best for later. He told her about his work with Makakai, to her delight, explaining how he persuaded the young dolphin — by means of hypnosis, bribery (letting her play with “toys” such as the waldo-whales), and love — to concentrate on the kind of abstract thought that humans used, instead of (or in addition to) the cetacean Dreaming.
He described how the whale dream, in turn, was slowly becoming understood… using Hopi and Australian Aborigine philosophies to help translate that totally alien world view into something vaguely accessible to a human mind.
Helene deSilva had a way of listening that drew the words out of Jacob. When he finished his story she radiated satisfaction, then reciprocated with a tale about a dark star that nearly stood his hair on end.
She spoke of the Calypso as if it were mother, child, and lover all in one. The ship and its crew had been her world for only three years, subjective time, but on the return to Earth they became a link with the past. Of those she had left behind on Earth, on her first voyage out, only the youngest had lived to see Calypso’s return. And they were now old.
When an interim assignment with Sundiver had been offered, she had jumped at the opportunity. While the scientific adventure of the solar expedition, plus a chance to gain some command experience, were probably reasons enough, Jacob thought he could sense another reason behind her choice.
Although she tried not to show it, Helene apparently disapproved of both extremes of behavior for which returning star ship crewmen were famous: — cloistered insularity of boisterous hedonism. There was a core of… “shyness” could be the only word to describe it… which peeked out from beneath both the articulate and competent outer persona and the laughing, playful inner woman. Jacob looked forward to finding out more about her during his stay on Mercury.
But the dinner was postponed. Dr. Kepler had called a formal banquet and, in the manner of such things, Jacob had little to think about all evening, while everyone bent over backwards being polite and flattering.
But the biggest frustration came from Sundiver itself.
Jacob tried questioning deSilva, Culla, and perhaps a dozen base engineers, getting about the same answer each time.
“Of course, Mr. Demwa, but wouldn’t ft be better to talk about it after Dr. Kepler’s presentation? It’ll be so much clearer then…”
It became very suspicious.
The pile of Library documents still sat In his room. He read from the pile for an hour at a time, in a normal state of consciousness. While he slogged through the pile, isolated fragments jumped into familiarity as soon as he read them.
…nor is it understood why the Pring are a binocular species, since no other indigenous life form on their planet has more than one eye. It is generally assumed that these and other differences are the result of genetic manipulation by the Pila colonists. Although the Pila are reluctant to answer questions from any but officials from the Institutes, they do admit to having altered the Pring from a brachiating, arboreal animal to a sophont capable of walking and serving in their farms and cities.
The unique Pring dental arrangement had its origin in their previous state as tree grazers. It evolved as a method for scraping off the high-nutrient outer bark of their planet’s trees; that bark serving in the place of fruit as a fertilization-spore spreading organ for many of the plants on Pring…
So that was the background behind Culla’s weird dentation! Knowing their purpose somehow made a mental image of the Pring’s mashies less disgusting. The fact that their function was vegetarian was downright reassuring.
It was interesting to note, while re-reading the article, how good a job the Branch Library had done with this report. The original had probably been written scores, if not hundreds of light years away from Earth, and long before Contact. The semantics machines at the Branch in La Paz were obviously getting the knack of converting alien words and meanings into English sentences that made sense, though, of course, something might have been lost in the translation.