The Science of Discworld Revised Edition
neutron stars – stars composed of highly degenerate matter containing only neutrons, usually a mere 12 miles (20 km) in diameter.
Recall that neutron stars are incredibly dense, formed when a larger star undergoes gravitational collapse. That initial star, as we have seen, will be spinning, and because of conservation of angular momentum, the resulting neutron star has to spin a lot faster. In fact, it typically spins through about thirty complete revolutions every second. For a star, that’s pretty speedy. Only a tiny star like a neutron star can do it: if an ordinary star were to revolve that fast, its surface would have to be travelling faster than light, which wouldn’t greatly please Einstein. (More realistically, a normal star would be torn apart at much lower speeds.) But a neutron star is small, and its angular momentum is comparatively large, and pirouetting thirty times a second is no problem at all.
For a helpful analogy, contemplate our own Earth. Like a pulsar, it spins on an axis. Like a pulsar, it has a magnetic field. The magnetic field has an axis too, but it’s different from the axis of rotation – that’s why magnetic north is not the same as true north. There’s no good reason for magnetic north to be the same as true north on a pulsar, either. And if it isn’t, that magnetic axis whips round thirty times every second. A rapidly spinning magnetic field emits radiation, known as synchrotron radiation – and it emits it in two narrow beams which point along the magnetic axis. In short, a neutron star projects twin radio beams like the spinning gadgetry on top of a terrestrial lighthouse. So if you look at a neutron star in radio light, you see a bright flash as the beam points towards you, and then virtually nothing until the beam comes round again. Every second, you see thirty flashes. That’s what Bell had noticed.
If you’re a living creature of remotely orthodox construction, you definitely do not want your star to be a pulsar. Synchrotron radiation is spread over a wide range of wavelengths, from visible light to x-rays, and x-rays can seriously damage the health of any creature of remotely orthodox construction. But no astronomer ever seriously suspected that pulsars might have planets, anyway. If a big star collapses down to an incredibly dense neutron star, surely it will gobble up all the odd bits of matter hanging around nearby. Won’t it?
Perhaps not. In 1991 Matthew Bailes announced that he had detected a planet circling the pulsar PSR 1829-10, with the same mass as Uranus, and lying at a distance similar to that of Venus from the Sun. The known pulsars are much too far away for us to see planets directly – indeed all stars, even the nearest ones, are too far away for us to see planets directly. However, you can spot a star that has planets by watching it wiggle as it walks. Stars don’t sit motionless in space – they generally seem to be heading somewhere, presumably as the result of the gravitational attraction of the rest of the universe, which is lumpy enough to pull different stars in different directions. Most stars move, near enough, in straight lines. A star with planets, though, is like someone with a dancing partner. As the planets whirl round the star, the star wobbles from side to side. That makes its path across the sky slightly wiggly. Now, if a big fat dancer whirls a tiny feather of a partner around, the fat one hardly moves at all, but if the two partners have equal weight, they both revolve round a common centre. By observing the shape of the wiggles, you can estimate how massive any encircling planets are, and how close to the star their orbits are.
This technique first earned its keep with the discovery of double stars, where the dancing partner is a second star, and the wobbles are fairly pronounced because stars are far more massive than planets. As instrumentation has become more accurate, ever tinier wobbles can be detected, hence ever tinier dancing partners. Bailes announced that pulsar PSR 1829-10 had a dancing partner whose mass was that of a planet. He couldn’t observe the wiggles directly, but he could observe the slight changes they produced in the timing of the pulses in the signal. The only puzzling feature was the rotational period of the planet:
exactly
six Earth months. Bit of a coincidence. It quickly turned out that the supposed wiggles were not caused by a planet going round the pulsar, but by a planet much closer to home
Weitere Kostenlose Bücher