Although I want to move on this morning to some interesting exoplanet news, I'm not through with fusion propulsion, not by a long shot. I want to respond to some of the questions that came in about the British ZETA experiment, and also discuss some of Rod Hyde's starship ideas as developed at Lawrence Livermore Laboratory in the 1970s. Also on the table is Al Jackson's work with Daniel Whitmire on a modified Bussard ramjet design augmented by lasers. But I need to put all that off for about a week as I wait for some recently requested research materials to arrive, and also because next week I'm taking a short break, about which more on Monday. For today, then, let's talk about an advance in the way we study distant solar systems, for we're finding ever more ingenious ways of teasing out information about exoplanets we can't even see. The latest news comes from the study of Tau Boötis b, a 'hot Jupiter' circling its primary -- a yellow-white dwarf about 20 percent more massive than...

Astronomical surprises can emerge close to home, close in terms of light years and close in terms of time. Take NGC 6774, an open cluster of stars also known as Ruprecht 147 in the direction of Sagittarius. In astronomical terms, it's close enough -- at 800 to 1000 light years -- to be a target for binoculars in the skies of late summer. In chronological terms, the cluster has had a kind of re-birth in our astronomy. John Herschel identified it in 1830, calling it 'a very large straggling space full of loose stars' and including it in the General Catalog of astronomical objects. But NGC 6774 remained little studied, and it took a more intensive look by Jaroslav Ruprecht in the 1960s to give the cluster both a new name and a firmer identity. This loose group of stars had long been thought to be an asterism, a chance alignment of stars that when seen from the Earth gave the impression of being a cluster. Ruprecht realized this was no asterism, and now new work with the MMT telescope in...

I've always had an interest in old travel books. A great part of the pleasure of these journals of exploration lies in their illustrations, sketches or photographs of landscapes well out of the reader's experience, like Victoria Falls or Ayers Rock or the upper reaches of the Amazon. Maybe someday we'll have a travel literature for exoplanets, but until that seemingly remote future, we'll have to use our imagination to supply the visuals, because these are places that in most cases we cannot see and in the few cases when we can, we see them only as faint dots. None of that slows me down because imagined landscapes can also be awe-inspiring. This morning I'm thinking about what it must be like on the molten surface of the newly discovered world Kepler-36b, a rocky planet 1.5 times the size of Earth and almost 5 times as massive. This is not a place to look for life -- certainly not life as we know it -- for it orbits its primary every 14 days at a scant 17.5 million kilometers. But if...

In astronomy, the word 'metals' refers to anything heavier than hydrogen and helium. Stars fuse hydrogen into helium and from there work their way into the higher elements until hitting iron, at which point the end quickly comes, with 'star stuff,' as Carl Sagan liked to put it, being flung out into the universe. Through stellar generations we can trace a higher concentration of the heavier elements as stars are born from the materials of their predecessors. And we've learned that those metal-rich stars are the most likely to produce gas giants like Jupiter and Saturn. What's intriguing is the issue of smaller planets and the conditions for their formation. After all, the content of the disk from which planets are formed parallels the metallicity of the host star. I'm looking at new research from Lars A. Buchhave (Niels Bohr Institute/University of Copenhagen) into planet formation, using data from the Kepler telescope. In Buchhave's words: "We have analysed the spectroscopic...

The success of the Kepler mission in sifting through a field of more than 150,000 stars to locate transiting planets is undeniable, and the number of planets thus far discovered has been used to estimate how often planets occur around stars like the Sun. Now comes a paper to remind us that statistical analysis based on Kepler results assumes that most of the planet candidates are real and not false positives. Alexandre Santerne, a graduate student at the University of Aix-Marseille, has worked with a team of researchers to study the false positive rate for giant planets orbiting close to their star. 35 percent of these Kepler candidates may be impostors. The problem is that eclipsing binaries can mimic planetary transits, which is why scientists perform follow-up radial velocity studies or use transit timing variations (TTV) to confirm the existence of the planet. Another technique is to systematically exclude all possible false positive scenarios to a high level of confidence....

While we wait for the last transit of Venus of the century, it's worth remembering how tricky transit studies can be when we push them out to exoplanetary distances. You would think that catching a transit of a planet like Venus, closer to us than the Sun, would be simplicity itself, but the orbital planes of Venus and the Earth are not precisely enough aligned to allow for more than a pair of transits followed by over a century of waiting for the next. I've just received a copy of Mark Anderson's The Day the World Discovered the Sun (Da Capo Press, 2012) and will be writing about 18th Century transit studies and their impact in coming weeks. The transits Anderson writes about and the expeditions that ranged the globe to study them played a role in helping astronomers understand the dimensions of the Solar System. And you can see that if Venus is a challenge, tracking planets around other stars will push our technology to its limit. Nonetheless, we're getting quite good at teasing...