Bubbly Burp Tracks Giant Black Hole's Last Meal

Observations with a number of telescopes, including the Hubble, have now dated a kind of burp in the eating habits of the giant black hole at the center of our Milky Way Galaxy. It appears that about six million years ago, the central black hole "ate" a large cluster of stars and the neighborhood around it was energized by the process of the meal.

Black holes are regions where material (starting with dead stars) has collapsed so much, that nothing, not even light, can get out. The black hole at the center of our Milky Way now includes enough material to make more than 4 million stars like the Sun! It's what we call a "supermassive black hole" and lurks in the middle of our Galaxy like a giant speed trap for unwary stars or star groups that get too close.

As material is in the process of being "swallowed" by the black hole, it glows with desperate radiation, just before it falls in and disappears from view. A great bubble produced by the black hole as it ate its last serious meal has now been tracked by astronomers with much greater precision.

Just like the sound of the burp your uncle makes (after a heavy Thanksgiving meal) can travel through the dining room, so the bubble from this last meal can be seen traveling through the Galaxy like a giant expanding shell. The shell was probe by the Hubble as the light of distant objects raced through it and astronomers were able to measure the speed of the bubble's motion.

Six million or so years ago, it appears that a large clump of stars or gas (the raw materials of stars) was consumed by the black hole, making two "Fermi bubbles" in the Galaxy. Since then, the black hole has only been "snacking" -- tearing apart and eating an occasional star or random bit of gas. But no serious meal has made a big bubble from the mouth of the black hole since then.

Our diagram shows how in the six million years since that meal, the bubble has expanded at speeds of two million miles per hour and made a giant bubbles north and south of the black holes that extend for tens of thousands of light years. That kind of puts your uncle's last burp into perspective!

A Monster Misses a Meal

There is a monster at the heart of our Milky Way Galaxy.  It's a super-massive black hole that has already eaten enough material to make 4 million stars like our Sun!  And, like all black holes, it is still hungry.  

For material to be "eaten" by a black hole, it must come quite close to the black hole "mouth" which astronomers call its event horizon.  Because black holes are the most compressed (squozen) objects in the universe, even overfed monster black holes have relatively small event horizons. Astronomers estimate that the one at the center of our Galaxy is 80 to 100 million miles across.  That's roughly the distance between the Earth and the Sun and is a tiny space in which to put 4 million(!) Suns.

So material near our black holes must come close to that tiny region to serve as food for the monster.  Things further away, like stars, can orbit around the black hole and not get swallowed.  (It is from the movement of such close, but not doomed, stars that we can estimate the gravity of the black hole.)

For the last few years, astronomers who monitor the center of our Galaxy have been predicting that a snack is on its way to the black hole.  A dusty cloud of material which they have nicknamed G2 was going to have a close encounter of the worst kind with the black hole in May 2014.  It was going to be torn apart by the enormous gravity of the monster and some of its material was then going to provide a meal for the black hole.  

When gas clouds (or other food) fall into a black hole, they are whirled around with unbelievable speed just before they fall in, and tend to glow briefly with x-rays and other forms of radiation before they disappear in the event horizon. However, no such flare-up of radiation was seen, even when the world's largest telescopes (like the Keck in Hawaii and the European Very Large Telescope in Chile). 

It appears G2 was not torn apart and consumed, because it wasn't a loose cloud of raw material, but a star with some of its birth material still around it.   The star managed to hold on to its "stuff" and make it away from the black hole, depriving it of a meal at this time.  Sorry, monster.   Better luck next time.

(In the picture, you see G2 in different colors going around the black hole (which is invisible, but whose position is marked by the plus sign.)  The blobs are shown at different times, and are red when G2 was moving away from us, and blue now that it was flung around the black hole and is coming toward us.)

New Evidence that We Live in a Space Bubble

Many people enjoy talking about their neighborhood, and how well they've come to know it. But do you know much about the "neighborhood" that our Sun and its planets hang out in? New evidence from an instrument launched aboard a NASA rocket has confirmed that our cosmic neighborhood really is a big bubble.

We have known for some time that our solar system sits inside a region which is emptier than the typical neighborhood in the Milky Way Galaxy. This "Local Bubble" (as it is called) is about 300 light years across, meaning light would take 300 years to cross it. Our diagram shows the bubble and some of the bright stars that are located in it. (The stars that looked brightest to our ancestors are the ones that wound up getting names. Many of the names we use today are Arabic translations of ancient Greek names.)

The Sun is actually located in a region that has a bit more loose gas and dust that the bubble. We call our slightly denser region the "local fluff." You can see the local fluff and other slightly denser regions inside the big bubble in yellow on our picture.

But what made this bigger bubble that we sit inside? Our best idea was that the violent explosions of giant stars ("supernovae") carved out this emptier region perhaps 10 or 20 million years or so ago. Some astronomers were not convinced of the exploding-stars origin of our bubble and thought that we might be fooled by some ways that our Sun's wind (the flow of atomic particles boiling off our star's surface) is interacting with the material in the fluff.

A new instrument, which looked for x-rays that come from collisions of atoms in deep space, was launched in 2012 aboard a rocket and got to spend five minutes above the Earth's atmosphere, where cosmic x-rays can be monitored. The data collected from those five minutes (!) was enough for the astronomers to confirm that the violence of exploding stars was the major contributor to the signs of the local bubble.

The exploding stars were not close enough to the Sun and the Earth to hurt life on our planet significantly -- after all, life on Earth thrived earlier than 10 million years ago and still thrives today. But it's clearer and clearer to astronomers that exploding stars have a lot to do with the geography and chemical makeup of our Galaxy. They not only made the bubble we find ourselves in, but we also know that it is the death of these stars that recycles the elements they get to make in their hot centers. This enriches the neighborhood with atoms like carbon, oxygen, and nitrogen -- the chemical building blocks of life as we know it. (Just about every atom of calcium in your bones, for example, was actually once inside a star that later exploded.)

By the way, our cosmic bubble is by no means unique. Other bubbles have been discovered near and far, blown by countless other star explosions over the 13 billion-year history of the Milky Way Galaxy.

For more technical details about this research, see the nice Science@NASA newsletter at: http://science.nasa.gov/science-news/science-at-nasa/2014/26aug_localbubble/