“Like Jules Verne’s thing in A Trip to the Moon ?”

But Cavor was not a reader of fiction.

“I begin to see,” I said slowly. “And you could get in and screw yourself up while the Cavorite was warm, and as soon as it cooled it would become impervious to gravitation, and off you would fly⁠—”

“At a tangent.”

“You would go off in a straight line⁠—” I stopped abruptly. “What is to prevent the thing travelling in a straight line into space forever?” I asked. “You’re not safe to get anywhere, and if you do⁠—how will you get back?”