"But," persisted the small Eurasian, "our main desire is to escape this galaxy. And certainly Proxima Centauri is our closest neighbor."
"Closest, yes. But by going toward it we travel in the opposite direction to that which I think we should go. No, Sirius is the star we must seek. There, if anywhere, lies the answer to our problem."
Flick Muldoon stared from one to the other of the two wrangling scientists, his honest face wreathed in bewilderment.
"Am I nuts?" he demanded, "or have you two gone completely off base? You're talking about Proxima Centauri and Sirius like they were weekend excursions. If I haven't forgotten everything my astronomy prof told me, Proxima Centauri is about four light-years away. Sirius is twice that far. At the rate we're traveling it'll take us about 6,500 years to reach Proxy, and damn near 14,000 to get to the Dog! What do we do to live that long ... eat vitamins?"
Lane smiled. "You'd better stick to photography, Flick. Don't you realize by now that our whole purpose in going to Jupiter is to learn the secret of faster-than-light travel? If they'll tell us this secret, we can reach our destination in—well, I don't know exactly how long. That will depend greatly upon how far we can exceed the so-called 'limiting velocity'."
Here Dr. Kang interpolated, "That my boy is the term I suggest you use with the greatest respect. It is not merely the 'so-called' limiting velocity. The speed of light is actually the greatest velocity at which matter can travel and still retain its integral form. Beyond that speed, mass becomes infinite. What happens then, no man knows. I am afraid we must reconcile ourselves to a long and wearisome voyage of nine Earth years."
Gary said tightly, "We can't afford nine years. I'm not thinking of our own discomfort, I'm remembering our computations. According to those figures, Sol's dwindling point will be reached not in years, but in months ... maybe weeks! Before we can reach our goal, the universe from which we are fleeing will exist no more!"
"All the more reason," insisted Dr. Boris Anjers, "for heading toward Proxima Centauri, my young friend. I am older than you, and have studied cosmic radiation for a great many years. I assure you, there is no reason to believe one extra-galactic destination is more likely than another."
Gary glanced at the man oddly. It was unlike Anjers to flaunt his age and wisdom; equally unlike the small scientist to rouse to such heights of nervous excitement. Gary said slowly, "Well, Dr. Anjers, this is a communal enterprise. I don't wish to dictate our course. I'm willing to place the decision to a vote of all our party."