Jon flipped the three toggle switches and shoved the red power lever full ahead. The ship quivered, and the tiny shudders of strain telegraphed their way up to Jon's sensitive nerves. But the ship moved not at all. Jon cursed softly and threw the auxiliaries on. The sense of strain grew until it was nearly unbearable. The ship edged ahead, six inches, six more, then the warning lights began to pop on above the control panel.
Jon groaned, and cut power. He swiveled around.
"That's all," he said, "unless you want to get out and push." They unstrapped silently and lighted cigarettes without looking at each other. Unconsciously their eyes went to the Geiger. It clicked softly, and the sensitive needle jumped half across the dial and fell back. The needle of the accumulator dial was already lifting off the pin. Again the Geiger clicked and the needle jumped.
"Well," said Doc tiredly, "let's start getting it down on record tape. It may do some good someday."
The transmitter was set on automatic, and was tirelessly throwing out its XER, XER, XER, in Interplanetary Code. But only a hissing roar came from the speaker tuned to the Explocenter channel. Doc got up and turned the volume down. He rubbed his hands together briskly.
"Let's go out and have a look-see," he suggested.
"You nuts?" inquired Jon sourly. "We'd be squashed like a couple of bugs the second we step off Stable-G."
Ole Doc thought about that. We put a small Stable-G unit on each foot of a space suit and run them off the dynamics in the suit. By coupling the secondary off the S-G unit on the right foot to the metal suit, and the primary of the left one ditto, we can convert the whole suit into a S-G, and be as safe as if we were in church. Just to be safe, we'll hook up a suit and shove it into the air-lock to test it.
It worked.