"What is it like?"
"Well, it is not E-grav radiation. It's a sort of dip, or valley, in the radiation-pattern of this part of space. A place where the normal density of E-grav is less."
"How much?"
"You tell me. The free-running gravitons are never high enough to do more than flicker the finest instrument. The threshold is way, way, way, way down in the mud. So here's a place where we have less."
"Sort of like having nothing and wanting to share it with someone?"
"Not much better. Oh well, a lack of free E-grav energy surely isn't anything to write home about. Might be a factor of the Sirian Double. After all, who knows what kind of effect that little, dark-red, dense-as-hell devil will do to gravitic threshold levels."
"So it's a safe bet—"
Timkins came running in, waving a sheet of cross-ruled paper. "Hell's bells," he yelled. "We're it! Our drive is approaching zero efficiency as the third power of—"
Above, in the working innards of the Haywire Queen, great circuit breakers crashed open. Smaller switches added to the din as they clicked open, one after the other. Pilot lights on the polished black panel began to glow an angry red and alarm bells created such a din that speech became almost impossible.