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# The Birmingham-CfA cluster scaling project - III: entropy and similarity in galaxy systems

## 1 Introduction

In the widely accepted standard model for cosmic structure formation, the Universe evolves hierarchically, as primordial density fluctuations, amplified by gravity, collapse and merge to form progressively larger systems. This hierarchical development leads to the prediction of self-similar scalings between systems of different masses and at different epochs. These scalings are also seen in cosmological simulations involving only gravitationally driven evolution, including compression and shock heating of the baryonic matter. Such simulations (e.g. Navarro et al., 1995; Frenk et al., 1999) result in haloes in which the density profiles of both dark matter and baryonic material, when radially scaled to the virial radius (which we define here to be the radius $`R_{200}`$, within which the mean density of a system is 200 times the critical density of the Universe) are almost identical in virialized systems covering a wide range of masses, from individual galaxies to rich clusters.

Given self-similar scalings of gas temperature and density, scaled X-ray surface brightness profiles are also expected to be similar. Furthermore, a simple scaling is expected between X-ray luminosity, $`L_X`$, and temperature $`T`$. Assuming that the emission is dominated by bremsstrahlung, $`L_XM_{\mathrm{gas}}^2R^3T^{1/2}`$, or $`L_Xf_{gas}^2T^2`$, where $`M_{gas}`$ is the gas mass within radius $`R`$, and $`f_{gas}=M_{gas}/M`$ is the gas mass fraction. X-ray properties of clusters deviate substantially from this simple scaling, and the observed $`L_X`$:$`T`$ relation (White et al., 1997; Markevitch, 1998) is considerably steeper than $`T^2`$ in the cluster regime, and steepens further (Helsdon & Ponman, 2000) in galaxy groups. Ponman et al. (1999) showed that the latter effect is due to the suppression of $`L_X`$ in galaxy groups, arising from a reduction in gas density in the inner regions of poor systems, relative to richer clusters.

It is instructive to view this in terms of the entropy of the intergalactic medium (IGM), which in the self-similar case should increase in a very simple scaling with the mean temperature of virialized systems. In practice, it is found (Ponman et al., 1999; Lloyd-Davies et al., 2000) that an excess in the entropy, above the self-similar prediction, is apparent in the inner regions of poor clusters and groups, outside the dense central regions in which cooling is expected to radiate away entropy within the age of the Universe. This effect has been referred to as the ‘entropy floor’, with the implication that additional physical processes, beyond gravity and resulting compression and shock heating, have acted to set a lower limit to the entropy which the gas in collapsed haloes can have.

A great deal of theoretical work has been devoted to explaining this phenomenon over the past few years. As we will discuss in some detail later, the explanations proposed fall into three main classes: the gas has been heated either at an early epoch, before clusters were assembled (Kaiser, 1991; Evrard & Henry, 1991; Cavaliere et al., 1997; Balogh et al., 1999; Valageas & Silk, 1999; Tozzi & Norman, 2001), or it has been heated in situ by star formation and/or energy input from active galactic nuclei (AGN) (Bower, 1997; Loewenstein, 2000; Voit & Bryan, 2001; Nath & Roychowdhury, 2002). Alternatively, some authors have argued (Knight & Ponman, 1997; Bryan, 2000; Pearce et al., 2000; Muanwong et al., 2001; Wu & Xue, 2002a; Davé et al., 2002) that cooling alone will remove low entropy gas from the centres of haloes, producing a very similar effect to non-gravitional heating.

In the present paper we aim to confront these models with the observed properties of the hot gas in a large sample of galaxy systems, spanning a wide range in total mass. In the fullness of time, high quality X-ray observations of the density and temperature structure of the IGM will be available from *XMM-Newton* and *Chandra*. However, at present, such observations are sparse, and it is essential to have a broadly representative and wide-ranging sample of virialized systems in order to study scaling properties. The value of this in the context of similarity-breaking in clusters has already been shown by a number of earlier studies.

In the present, and companion papers, Sanderson et al. (2003) (Paper I) and Sanderson & Ponman (2003) (Paper II), we examine scaling properties derived from the largest sample of virialized systems with resolved X-ray temperature profiles yet assembled. Following a brief description of the sample and our analysis in section 2 (details are given in Paper I), we present the profiles and scaling properties for the entropy and temperature across our sample in sections 3 and 4. These results are used in section 5, along with relevant results from Papers I and II, to test the various models proposed to account for the entropy floor, and finally in section 6 we draw our conclusions from this study, and propose a new model to explain the behaviour of the entropy of intracluster gas.

## 2 Sample and analysis

Our sample comprises 66 virialized systems, from rich clusters of galaxies, through groups and down to the level of individual galaxy-sized haloes. In Sanderson et al. (2003, hereafter Paper I), we reported a detailed study of the 3-dimensional X-ray properties of this sample, based on data from the *ROSAT* and *ASCA* observatories, which we assembled from the work of three separate investigators (Markevitch et al., 1998; Markevitch, 1998; Markevitch et al., 1999; Markevitch & Vikhlinin, 1997; Markevitch, 1996; Finoguenov & Ponman, 1999; Finoguenov & Jones, 2000; Finoguenov et al., 2000, 2001; Lloyd-Davies et al., 2000), combined with a number of cool groups analysed specially to provide better coverage of the crucial low end of the mass range. To each system we fitted analytical functions, describing the gas density and temperature variation with radius, outside any central cooling region, which was excised or fitted separately. This approach allows us to put the X-ray data from the three earlier studies on a unified footing, and gives us the freedom to extrapolate the gas properties to arbitrary radius. We used a beta model to parametrize the density and specified the temperature variation with either a linear ramp or a polytropic IGM. We have used these data to determine the gravitating mass profile and thus to calculate radii of overdensity in a self-consistent manner. Similarly, we have derived mean temperatures for each system, by averaging the gas temperature within 0.3$`R_{200}`$, weighted by its luminosity (Paper I).

## 3 Entropy and temperature distributions

For convenience, we define ‘entropy’ in the present paper as

$$S=T/n_e^{2/3}\text{ keV}\text{ cm}^2,$$
(1)
which relates directly to observations. This has been referred to by a number of authors as the ‘adiabat’, since (apart from a constant relating to mean particle mass) it is the coefficient relating pressure and density in the adiabatic relationship $`P=K\rho ^\gamma `$. Hence $`S`$ is conserved in any adiabatic process. Note that the true thermodynamic entropy is related to our definition via a logarithm and additive constant.

In Fig. 1, we overlay the scaled entropy profiles for all 66 systems in our sample. Under the assumption that all these systems form at the same redshift, their mean mass densities should be identical. Hence in the simple self-similar case, where all have similar profiles and identical gas fractions, $`S`$ will simply scale with mean system temperature $`T`$. We apply this scaling, and scale the radial coordinate to $`R_{200}`$ for each system, derived from our fitted models (Paper I). It can be seen that the entropy profiles of the cooler systems, scaled in this way, tend to be significantly higher than those of richer clusters. To see this more clearly, in the right panel of Fig. 1, we show the profiles grouped into bands of mean system temperature. In this grouped plot we have excluded the two galaxies in our sample, whose profiles may be dominated by stellar wind losses, rather than by the processes operating in groups and clusters.

It can be seen that there is a strong tendency for the scaled entropy to be higher, at a given scaled radius, in cooler systems. Simulations and analytical models of cluster formation involving only gravity and shock heating, produce entropy profiles with logarithmic slopes of approximately 1.1 (Tozzi & Norman, 2001), which agrees rather well with the slope of our profiles outside 0.1$`R_{200}`$. The mean profile in the 2.9–4.6 keV band is significantly affected by two systems, visible in the left hand panel, which have strongly rising profiles. One of these is AWM7, for which the temperature profile is subject to especially large systematic uncertainties, as a result of the strong cooling flow, as discussed in Paper I. The temperature model adopted, from the analysis of Lloyd-Davies et al. (2000), rises strongly with radius. As a result, the slope of $`S(r)`$ in this band is almost certainly overestimated in the figure.

One possibility which we can discard right away, is that the observed scaling results from systematic differences in the formation epochs of low and high mass systems. In hierarchical models, low mass systems are expected to form, on average, earlier than high mass ones. Hence they should tend to have higher mean densities, and therefore lower gas entropy – the opposite of what we observe. It is true that, due to the usual selection effects, the rarer and more luminous massive systems in our sample tend to be at higher redshifts than the groups. Hence if, contrary to expectations, all systems virialized at the redshift we observe them, then the more massive systems would be more dense, and have lower entropies. However, this effect is considerably smaller than the trend which we observe. The highest redshift clusters in our sample are at $`z0.2`$, hence their mean densities, scaling as $`(1+z_f)^3`$, could be 70% higher than the lowest redshift systems, and their entropies (scaling as $`n^{2/3}`$) consequently lower by a factor of 1.44. All but four members of our sample lie at $`z<0.1`$, and hence would have entropies changed by less than 20% as a result of such a redshift-dependent density scaling. In contrast, Fig. 1 shows that the scaled entropy actually differs by a factor 3 between the high and low temperature bins for our sample.

At small radii, our fitted models exclude the effects of cooled gas, since any central cooling region is excised, or represented by a separate component in our analysis (sect. 2). This central cooling region is present in 54 of our 66 systems (see Table 1 in Paper I), and in these cases its radius ($`r_{\mathrm{cool}}`$) ranges from 0.03$`R_{200}`$ to 0.2$`R_{200}`$, with a median value of $`r_{\mathrm{cool}}=0.06R_{200}`$. Apart from the coolest systems, our entropy profiles generally flatten inside $`0.1R_{200}`$. This effect is also seen in many cosmological simulations (Frenk et al., 1999) even in the absence of non-gravitational heating and cooling processes, and appears to result from the introduction of a core into the gas density distribution, due to transfer of energy between baryonic and dark matter during merger events (Eke et al., 1998). Preheating models generally predict large isentropic central regions in low mass systems, which are not seen in our data. We will return to this point in section 5 below.

The preheating model of Dos Santos & Doré (2002) predicts that entropy should scale according to $`(1+T/T_0)`$, rather than $`T`$, where $`T_0`$ is a constant related to the degree of preheating, which they estimate as $`T_0`$=2 keV to provide a best fit to the entropy floor data of Lloyd-Davies et al. (2000). In Fig. 2, we show the effect of this scaling on our temperature-grouped entropy profiles. This scaling does indeed bring the profiles into good agreement, apart from the fact that our coolest systems show little sign of any central entropy core. Note from the left hand panel in Fig. 1, that this is a general feature of almost all the entropy profiles for cool systems, rather than a result of averaging together systems with cores and others with strongly dropping central entropies.

It is also instructive to compare temperature profiles across the range of masses in our sample. We use the virial radii and masses calculated from our fitted models to compute the virial temperature

$$T_{200}=\frac{GM\mu m_p}{2R_{200}},$$
(2)
expressed in  keV. This is used to normalize each temperature profile, and the scaled profiles are grouped in temperature bands, to reduce the large scatter and make trends more obvious. The result is shown in Fig. 3. As with the grouped entropy plots, we have excluded the two galaxies from these profiles. We have also omitted AWM7 from the 2.9–4.6 keV band, since its highly uncertain (see discussion above) and strongly rising $`T(r)`$ profile distorts the mean profile for the whole band.

Raising the entropy of the IGM results in increased temperatures as well as lower densities, and for a given level of entropy increase this effect will be most prominent in low mass systems, where the ‘natural’ shock-generated entropy is lower. As can be seen, our observations do indeed show such an effect at large radii – at $`R_{200}`$ the scaled temperatures are ordered in precisely this way. However, at smaller radii, this is not the case, and in particular, the coolest systems display very flat temperature profiles, whilst the most massive clusters show the largest rise in temperature between $`R_{200}`$ and the centre. This behaviour is not what is predicted by most models, as we will discuss later.

## 4 Scaling properties

The claim of the discovery of an entropy floor in galaxy systems (Ponman et al., 1999) was based on the measurement of gas entropy at a scaled radius of $`0.1`$$`R_{200}`$, in systems spanning a wide temperature range. This radius was chosen to lie close to the centre, where shock-generated entropy should be a minimum, hence maximising the sensitivity to any additional entropy, whilst lying outside the region where the cooling time is less than the age of the Universe, and hence the entropy may be reduced. This initial study was improved by Lloyd-Davies et al. (2000), who avoided the isothermal assumption made by Ponman et al., and derived an entropy floor value of $`139h_{50}^{1/3}`$ keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$ from a sample of 20 systems, which is essentially a subset of the present work.

In Fig. 4, we show the corresponding plot from our much larger sample. With the benefit of this increase in sample size, the trend looks rather different from its appearance in Lloyd-Davies et al. (2000), where a dearth of systems in the 1.5–3.5 keV band led to the interpretation of a relation which followed the self-similar line down from hot systems, flattening towards a floor value of $`139h_{50}^{1/3}`$ keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$, corresponding, with our value of $`H_0`$, to 124 $`h_{70}`$<sup>-1/3</sup> keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$. However, it appears from our data that the behaviour is rather that of a slope in $`S(T)`$ which is significantly shallower than the self-similar relation $`ST`$ throughout. Using unweighted orthogonal regression (Isobe et al., 1990), we obtain a relation $`S(0.1R_{200})T^{0.65\pm 0.05}`$, which is marked in Fig. 4. The Lloyd-Davies et al. floor value lies at the bottom of this trend, but it is not clear whether it sets a lower limit to the entropy in galaxy groups, since no groups with $`T0.6`$ keV have been bright enough for detailed study to date. The two galaxies in our sample do clearly have entropies which lie below the floor level, however much or all of the hot gas in these systems may have its origin in stellar mass loss, rather than retained primordial material (O’Sullivan et al., 2001), so it may well be fortuitous that they fall close to the trend set by the groups and clusters.

Grouping the points into temperature bins (Fig. 5) makes the unbroken nature of the trend very clear. An unweighted orthogonal fit to these grouped points gives a logarithmic slope of $`0.57\pm 0.04`$, slightly flatter than that derived from Fig. 4. Note that these results suggest the presence of excess entropy of $`100`$ keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$ in all temperature bands, relative to the hottest systems. Fig. 5 also compares the effect on the relation of calculating $`R_{200}`$ from a measurement of the mass profile, compared to assuming a scaling $`R_{200}T^{1/2}`$, as was done (employing the formula derived from simulations by Navarro et al. (1995)) by Ponman et al. (1999) and Lloyd-Davies et al. (2000). As discussed in Paper I, the Navarro et al. formula agrees reasonably well with our measurements in rich clusters, but in cool systems, the upward bias in temperature, relative to simulations such as those of Navarro et al. (1995), which include only gravitational physics, causes the $`R_{200}T^{1/2}`$ scaling to overestimate $`R_{200}`$ leading in turn to an upward bias in the entropy (since $`S`$ rises with radius). This may have contributed, in previous studies, to the appearance of flattening in the $`S(T)`$ relation towards low $`T`$.

Whilst measurements close to the cluster centre provide the most sensitive probe of excess entropy, detection of additional entropy at large radii is especially interesting, since many preheating models predict that the rise in entropy is essentially restricted to those central regions where shock-generated entropy is less than the floor value set by preheating. Finoguenov et al. (2002) were the first to find evidence for excess entropy at a much larger radius, $`R_{500}`$, corresponding (Paper II) to $`\frac{2}{3}`$$`R_{200}`$. They argued that the high excess entropy observed at large radii in groups and poor clusters indicates that their IGM is dominated throughout by the effects of preheating, with shocks playing little or no role. We aim, in this paper, to check this result with our larger sample.

Our data, shown in Fig. 6, confirm the existence of substantial excess entropy at $`R_{500}`$, above a self-similar extrapolation from the values seen in rich clusters (dotted line). The trend is more clearly seen in temperature-grouped data shown in the right hand panel, and the logarithmic slope of $`S(T)`$ is similar to that seen at 0.1$`R_{200}`$. The departure from self-similar entropy values is apparent not only in the coolest systems, but also in quite rich clusters. In fact, the largest absolute values of excess entropy ($`1000`$ keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$) are seen in clusters with $`T`$3–4 keV.

For direct comparison with Finoguenov et al. (2002), we show in Fig. 7 the entropy at $`R_{500}`$ scaled by $`M_{500}^{2/3}`$, and grouped into mass bins to suppress fluctuations. For a set of self-similar systems, virialising at the same epoch (and hence having the same mean density), this scaling should renormalize the entropy to a constant value, independent of system temperature (since $`STM^{2/3}`$). Clearly real clusters do not follow this self-similar law. Whilst our plot is broadly consistent in shape with Fig. 3 of Finoguenov et al. (2002), our larger sample again reveals important additional features. Finoguenov et al. (2002) concluded that excess entropy was only present in systems with $`M_{500}10^{14}h_{50}^1`$$`M_{}`$ ($`7\times 10^{13}`$$`M_{}`$ for our choice of $`H_0`$), whereas it is clear from our data that a trend in scaled entropy is present across the full mass range of clusters and groups.

Finoguenov et al. (2002) also examined the entropy at a fixed value of enclosed gravitating mass ($`3\times 10^{13}h_{50}^1M_{}`$) over their sample of systems. The infall velocity of gas into an accretion shock should be similar to the free fall velocity at the shock radius, which depends upon the enclosed mass and mean density of the Universe at the epoch in question. In clusters, an enclosed mass of $`3\times 10^{13}h_{50}^1M_{}`$ lies deep within the system, whilst in small groups it can lie close to $`R_{200}`$. Since cluster cores are generally assembled at higher redshifts than the outskirts of groups, one expects the gas density in the shell under consideration to be higher, and the entropy generated by the thermalised kinetic energy is therefore lower, by a factor ($`1+z_f`$), where $`z_f`$ is the redshift at which the shell was accreted. In practice, Finoguenov et al. (2002) found the entropy of this shell to be bimodal across their sample, with a typical value of $``$300 keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$ for systems with $`T3`$ keV, and with considerably lower values (scattered over the range 100-300 keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$) in hotter systems. Such a distribution cannot be accounted for on the basis of a $`1+z_f`$ scaling, and Finoguenov et al. suggested instead that the entropy in cool systems is set by preheating, taking place at $`z3`$, after many cluster cores had already collapsed.

The corresponding plot for our sample, which is almost double the size of that of Finoguenov et al., is shown in Fig. 8. For direct comparison we have derived entropies at an enclosed mass of $`2.14\times 10^{13}h_{70}^1M_{}`$, allowing for our different choice of Hubble constant. Note that in some of the most massive systems, the radius enclosing $`2.14\times 10^{13}h_{70}^1M_{}`$ lies (just) within the cooling region, and hence our derived entropy value is effectively extrapolated, using the model for the non-cooling component (see section 3). This affects six of the clusters which contribute to the highest temperature bin in the right panel of Fig. 8, and a handful of cooler clusters. Our results look significantly different from those of Finoguenov et al. (2002). The entropy appears to be non-monotonic, with a minimum value in systems with $`T`$3–4 keV. From a purely phenomenological perspective, this non-monotonic behaviour can be understood in terms of mass profiles which take the NFW form (Navarro et al., 1997)

$$\rho (r)=\frac{\rho _s}{(r/r_s)(1+r/r_s)^2},$$
(3)
combined with entropy profiles which rise as $`Sr^{1.1}`$, outside some flatter central core. In groups, the mass shell under consideration here lies well outside $`r_s`$, where enclosed mass grows roughly linearly with radius,

$$M(<r)CrT_{200}^{3/2},$$
(4)
so that the radius at which an enclosed mass of $`2.14\times 10^{13}h_{70}^1M_{}`$ is achieved scales as

$$r_{}T_{200}^{3/2}.$$
(5)
Since the entropy at this radius scales as

$$S(r_{})T_{200}r_{}^{1.1},$$
(6)
we expect

$$S(r_{})T_{200}^{0.65},$$
(7)
which gives a reasonable match to the slope at $`T<3`$ keV, as shown in the right hand panel of Fig. 8.

In more massive systems ($`M_{200}>2\times 10^{14}h_{70}^1M_{}`$, $`T>`$3 keV), the mass shell we are studying moves inside the scale radius $`r_s`$, so that the enclosed mass grows as $`r^2`$. An analysis similar to that above then results in

$$S(r_{})T_{200}^{0.175},$$
(8)
provided that $`S(r)r^{1.1}`$ at these small radii. However, we saw in Fig. 1 that for all but the coolest systems, $`S(r)`$ flattens within the cluster core, in which case the positive slope of the $`S(r_{})`$:$`T`$ relation will be steeper than 0.175, as is observed.

The above arguments seem able to explain the general form of the relation in Fig.8, using just the shape of the NFW profile, coupled with entropy profiles similar to those seen in simulations incorporating only gravity and shock heating. We therefore conclude that there may be no need to invoke modification of the entropy profiles by preheating to explain this particular result, despite the initially surprising, non-monotonic trend.

## 5 Discussion

A substantial amount of theoretical and computational effort has been directed towards the problem of similarity-breaking in groups and clusters, especially over the past four years. We now compare the various models with the results above, and with additional information from the companion papers to this (Paper I and Paper II), to see how they fare.

### 5.1 Cooling models

A number of authors (Bryan, 2000; Pearce et al., 2000; Muanwong et al., 2001; Wu & Xue, 2002b; Davé et al., 2002) have suggested that it may be unnecessary to invoke additional heating to explain the entropy floor, since cooling will remove low entropy gas from clusters. The counterintuive fact that cooling can have similar effects to heating in this regard was first noted by Knight & Ponman (1997), who found, on the basis of 1D hydrodynamical simulations of cluster growth, that cooling acted to flatten the gas density profiles, especially in low mass systems, and to steepen the $`L`$:$`T`$ relation, but not sufficiently to match observations. More sophisticated 3D simulations of cluster evolution by Muanwong et al. (2001) and Davé et al. (2002) have shown that larger effects can be produced, depending upon the spatial resolution of the simulations. Davé et al. show that their simulations have converged in this respect, although their cooling function does not incorporate emission from metal lines, which becomes very significant at $`T<2`$ keV.

Cooling achieves its effect of breaking the similarity between low and high mass clusters, since, at a given gas density, the cooling time is shorter at lower temperatures. Hence a larger fraction of the hot baryons cool in groups, compared to richer clusters (Bryan, 2000). Davé et al. (2002) show that this is able to reproduce the cluster-group $`L`$:$`T`$ relation quite well, except that the predicted steepening in the relation falls at a slightly lower temperature than that observed. They also compare the predicted gas entropies at 0.1$`R_{200}`$ with the results of Ponman et al. (1999) at $`T<4`$ keV, and find reasonable consistency. However, agreement with the results from the present study (Figs. 4 and 5), which is superior to that of Ponman et al. (1999) in terms of sample size and allowance for non-isothermality, is much less good. Davé et al. find that $`S(0.1R_{200})`$ is raised in low temperature systems, but converges with the self-similar trend through hot clusters for systems with $`T>3`$ keV. In contrast, our results show a relation which is flatter than the self-similar line across the full temperature range. Bryan (2000) and Wu & Xue (2002b) produce results in better agreement with our observations, but their analytical model is based on an assumed variation in star formation efficiency with system mass which is much stronger than that which we derive from the subsample of our systems for which we have optical luminosities (Paper II).

However, the most fundamental problem faced by cooling-only models, as many of their proponents have acknowledged, is that cosmological simulations without some form of effective ‘feedback’ of energy into the baryonic component as stars form, have a serious ‘overcooling’ problem, which has been recognised for many years. At high redshift, the Universe is dense, and a large fraction of the baryons cool and form stars within small collapsed haloes. For example, Davé et al. (2002) find that in the largest systems in their simulation (with $`T4`$ keV) almost half of the baryons have cooled out of the hot phase, whilst in small groups over 80% of the gas has cooled. Unless this cooled gas does not form stars, the very high star formation efficiencies implied are far above those observed in clusters (c.f. discussion in Paper II) or inferred globally from the K-band luminosity function of galaxies (Balogh et al., 2001). Furthermore, recent X-ray spectral observations from *XMM-Newton* and *Chandra* have made it clear that our understanding of cooling gas in the local Universe, on scales ranging from clusters to elliptical galaxies, is deficient (see e.g. Fabian et al., 2001). It seems likely that cooling rates have been seriously overestimated, for reasons which are still under very active debate, but may be related to the effects of feedback from AGN, which probably exist at the centres of all cooling flows.

### 5.2 Preheating models

Since less energy is required to raise the entropy of gas by a given amount when its density is lower, it is energetically favourable to ‘preheat’ gas before it is concentrated into a cluster or group potential. A comparison of the excess entropy required, with that potentially available from supernova explosions associated with star formation (e.g. Valageas & Silk, 1999) shows that a high efficiency of heating of the intergalactic gas is required even in the most favourable circumstances – i.e. only a modest fraction of the supernova energy must be radiated away. However, such high efficiencies have been inferred on the basis of observations and modelling in the case of starburst winds (Strickland & Stevens, 2000), and so are not necessarily unreasonable during the epoch of galaxy formation.

A large reservoir of energy at high redshift is potentially available from the formation of massive black holes in galaxies (Valageas & Silk, 1999; Wu et al., 2000), although it is at present unclear how much of this energy can be coupled into heating of the IGM. Radiative heating from AGN cannot achieve the required high entropies, but quasar outflows may do so, although the physics and demographics involved are still subject to considerable uncertainties (Nath & Roychowdhury, 2002).

Finally, cosmological simulations suggest that a large fraction of the baryon content of the Universe is currently in the form of what has been dubbed the ‘warm-hot intergalactic medium’, with an entropy of the order of 300 keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$ (Cen & Ostriker, 1999; Davé et al., 2001). Davé et al. (2001) show that this high entropy gas is primarily heated, not by star-formation, but by the effects of shocks generated during the collapse of gas into filaments. It seems unlikely, however, that this mechanism can account for the excess entropy seen in the inner regions of groups and clusters, since the entropy of the IGM generated in this way declines steeply with redshift (Valageas et al., 2002), such that it should be well below the observed floor value, at the epoch when the gas in cluster cores was accreted. This is confirmed by the recent simulations of Borgani et al. (2002), for example, which find baryon distributions in clusters which are essentially self-similar, in the absence of non-gravitational heating processes.

Pioneering efforts to explore the effects of preheating through simulations or analytical treatments (Metzler & Evrard, 1994; Navarro et al., 1995; Cavaliere et al., 1997) have been largely superseded by more recent work, and we concentrate here on the latter. Considerable insight can be gained by analytical models in which preheated gas is accreted into clusters. The model of Babul, Balogh and coworkers has reached its most advanced stage of development in Babul et al. (2002). This model assumes Bondi accretion (Bondi, 1952) of preheated gas into a potential well represented by a (fixed) NFW profile. This accretion is taken to be isentropic in low mass systems, with introduction of a shock heated regime, motivated by the entropy profiles seen in numerical simulations, for systems above some critical mass. The level of preheating is tuned to achieve a good match to the $`L`$:$`T`$ relation across a wide temperature range (0.3–15 keV). Unfortunately, the entropy level required to achieve this (330 keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$), is well above that actually observed in the inner regions of groups. Moreover, the model predicts large isentropic cores in cool systems. The IGM in groups with $`M_{200}<8\times 10^{13}`$$`M_{}`$ (corresponding to $`2`$ keV, from our $`M`$:$`T`$ relation in Paper I) is entirely isentropic in these models, in strong conflict with our results (Fig. 1).

Tozzi & Norman (2001) and Dos Santos & Doré (2002) have attempted to evaluate the effects of shock heating on the preheated accreting gas. Dos Santos & Doré concentrate on the scaling properties of the gas entropy immediately inside the accretion shock. They find that this is expected to scale with mean system temperature according to $`(1+T/T_0)`$, where $`T_0`$ is an adjustable parameter related to the initial adiabat on which the preheated gas lies. By choosing the preheating entropy to be 120 keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$, corresponding to $`T_0=2`$ keV, they obtain a good match to the $`S(0.1R_{200})`$:$`T`$ plot of Lloyd-Davies et al. (2000), though their curve is rather too concave in comparison with the trend seen in Fig. 5. In order to calculate the expected $`L`$:$`T`$ relation from their model, Dos Santos & Doré make two key additional assumptions: the IGM is assumed to be isothermal, and entropy profiles, $`S(r/R_{200})`$, are assumed to have the same shape in all systems. Their resulting $`L`$:$`T`$ model steepens rather too gently to match the group data (which show a very steep slope – e.g. $`LT^{4.3}`$ from Helsdon & Ponman (2000)) entirely satisfactorily. The isothermal assumption is in conflict with our data (Fig. 3) and with the results of cosmological simulations, which generally show a decline in temperature by about a factor 3 from the inner regions to the virial radius (Frenk et al., 1999). A picture involving self-similar entropy profiles, with a scale factor given by $`(1+T/T_0)`$, is in remarkably good agreement with our results, as shown in Fig 2. However, it should be noted that the Dos Santos & Doré (2002) model predicts only the way in which entropy should scale just inside the shock – the self-similarity in the radial distribution of entropy inside the shock is an assumption, rather than an output of their model.

A more comprehensive treatment is provided by Tozzi & Norman (2001), who calculate entropy profiles based on solving the shock jump conditions over typical accretion histories, for systems spanning a range of final mass. They find that shock heating generates entropy profiles with a characteristic logarithmic slope $`Sr^{1.1}`$, outside a central isentropic core, which, for a given preheating level, occupies a larger fraction of $`R_{200}`$ in lower mass systems. The slope of 1.1 agrees well with our results (Fig. 1), and with numerical simulations (e.g. Borgani et al., 2001). However, as can be seen from Fig. 1, we do not see the larger isentropic cores in $`S(r/R_{200})`$ which appear to be a feature of all preheating models.

Nath & Roychowdhury (2002) explore the energetics and evolutionary history of preheating the IGM through outflows from radio loud, and broad absorption line quasars. Their conclusion is that AGN could provide the energy input required to account for the entropy floor. However, in the context of our results, their most interesting result is that the specific energy injected by AGN into the gas, is expected to be higher in low mass systems, for two reasons: the incidence of powerful AGN is expected to be higher in smaller clusters, and the fraction of their power expended in $`PdV`$ work is larger in smaller systems. This appears to be contrary to our entropy scaling results, shown in Figs. 5 and 6, which show that at small radii the excess entropy is similar ($`100`$ keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$) across a wide range of system masses, whilst at larger radii it is actually highest in moderately rich ($`T3`$–4 keV) clusters.

### 5.3 Star formation models

A natural development of cooling models, which can help to address the overcooling problem, is the incorporation of feedback due to star formation. In numerical studies, the successful implementation of such a scheme is extremely challenging, and has been the Holy Grail of those engaged in simulations of galaxy formation for some years. Voit & Bryan (2001) introduced an interesting perspective on this issue, in the context of similarity breaking in clusters, by noting that it makes rather little difference quite how effective feedback is in heating the IGM, since any gas within virialized systems which has low entropy will have a short cooling time, and so is removed from its location near the centre of a dark halo either by dropping out of the hot phase, or being heated by star formation in its vicinity, such that it escapes to large radii. In particular, they noted that the entropy of gas with a cooling time equal to the age of the Universe is $`100`$ keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$, in striking agreement with the entropy floor reported in groups and clusters. Since the cooling time scales as $`T^{1/2}/n`$ in systems with $`T>2`$ keV, where bremsstrahlung dominates cooling, whilst $`S=T/n^{2/3}`$, it follows that a given cooling time is achieved in gas with an entropy which scales as

$$S_{\mathrm{cool}}(t_{\mathrm{cool}}T)^{2/3},$$
(9)
so that the entropy floor generated in this way is expected to be higher in hotter systems (Voit & Bryan, 2001). This feature may help to explain the flat trend in entropy with temperature apparent in Fig. 5 – note the similarity between the dependence of $`S_{\mathrm{cool}}`$ on $`T`$, and the slope seen in Figs. 4,5 and 6.

This approach was developed further by Voit et al. (2002), who constructed models in which the entropy distribution is either truncated below some critical entropy (corresponding to gas cooling out, or being ejected as a result of vigorous heating), or shifted by the addition of an entropy boost throughout (corresponding to preheating of the entire IGM). The two different prescriptions for entropy modification produce only subtle differences in observable properties: shifted entropy models have rather flatter gas density profiles at large radii in poor groups, and also slightly higher gas temperatures. These differences are not distinguishable with data of the quality used in the present study, and may well be too challenging even for future studies with *XMM-Newton* and *Chandra*. One impressive feature of these models is that they contain essentially no adjustable parameters, since the entropy threshold is set by equating the cooling time of gas to a Hubble time of 15 Gyr. However, the predicted $`L`$:$`T`$ relation fails to steepen sufficiently at low temperatures to pass through the bulk of the galaxy group points, and the $`M`$:$`T`$ relation, whilst steeper than the self-similar relation ($`MT^{1.5}`$), is less steep than that derived from the present sample in Paper I.

One of the most recent numerical studies of cluster structure to incorporate the effects of both cooling and feedback is the work of Borgani et al. (2001, 2002). These simulations explore the effects of setting an entropy floor through instantaneous preheating at high redshift, and also through heating scaled to the expected supernova energy input in overdense regions throughout the evolutionary history of the Universe. The effects of radiative cooling are also included in one of the supernova heating runs. The main conclusions from this work, are that $`1`$ keV per particle of energy input is required to give a reasonable match to the observed steepening of the $`L`$:$`T`$ relation. The authors point out that such a large energy boost appears to exceed what is expected from supernova input alone, even if a high heating effeciency of the IGM is assumed.

Borgani et al. find that a somewhat larger suppression of $`L_X`$ in groups is achieved by injecting the same amount of energy progressively, compared to global preheating of the IGM. Entropy profiles generally agree well with the Tozzi & Norman (2001) slope of 1.1, but are flattened in low mass systems by the effects of energy injection, as are gas density profiles. The gas temperature profile becomes more centrally peaked in low mass haloes subject to additional heating. The $`M`$:$`T`$ relation is found to be little affected by heating, either in slope or normalization. However, cooling is found to decrease the normalization and steepen the slope of the relation, bringing it into better agreement with observations. In comparison to these results, we certainly observe flatter gas density profiles in cool systems (Paper I), and Fig. 2 provides some tentative evidence that the entropy slope may be rather shallower in lower temperature ($`T<3`$ keV) systems. In the case of the $`M`$:$`T`$ relation, Lloyd-Davies et al. (2002) and Voit et al. (2002) show that systematic variations in the concentration parameter of dark matter haloes with mass, may play a key role in steepening its slope, as discussed in Paper I.

## 6 Conclusions and suggestions

### 6.1 Existing models

Drawing the above results together, it seems that cooling-only models cannot provide a viable explanation for the similarity-breaking observed in clusters, unless one is willing to admit the presence of very large quantities of baryonic dark matter, which would have to dominate the baryon budget in groups.

Preheating models appear to have the generic property of generating large isentropic cores in low mass systems, in conflict with our observations. This seems to be an inescapable feature of simple preheating models in which the IGM is raised uniformly and ‘instantaneously’ to a high adiabat, since such gas can only be shocked when falling into potential wells deep enough for its motion to be supersonic. More complex preheating models may enable this problem to be circumvented, as we discuss below.

Models involving a mixture of cooling and star formation (or possibly AGN heating) appear more natural and promising. However, a number of features of our data appear to conflict with all models proposed to date:

1. The very large entropy excesses seen at large radii (Figs. 6 and 7) are a suprise. Models tend to show entropy enhancement in the inner regions of low mass systems, with a normal shock-generated entropy profile re-establishing itself at larger radii.
2. Closely related to this, is the fact that the entropy profiles appear to be approximately self-similar apart from a normalization constant, and in particular, that larger isentropic cores are not seen in galaxy groups. In fact, Fig. 1 shows that the lowest temperature systems actually have entropy profiles which appear to drop all the way into the centre, unlike hotter systems. The fact that the scaling suggested by Dos Santos & Doré (2002) brings our profiles into good agreement (Fig. 2) is a puzzle, given that this scaling is really not justified by their model as a scale factor for entropy profiles.
3. The temperature profiles shown in Fig. 3, are also not quite what is expected from the models. Any mechanism which gives an entropy boost should produce the strongest results in low mass systems. Since a rise in entropy has to be coupled with the maintenance of hydrostatic equilibrium, the natural consequence is a rise in central temperature, coupled with a decrease in density. The density drop is certainly observed, and there are indications that the temperature has been raised in cool systems outside the core, but the temperature profiles in groups seem to lack the expected central cusp. This is related to the lack of an entropy core in groups referred to in point (ii), above.
4. The behaviour of the gas core radius, discussed in Paper II, is similarly unexpected. As a fraction of $`R_{200}`$, the gas core radius is approximately constant at $``$10% over most of our temperature range, but falls dramatically, by an order of magnitude, in groups. The only study to predict this sort of behaviour is that of Wu & Xue (2002a), who show that fitting a convex profile which steepens progressively, with a beta model, can lead to smaller fitted core radii as the outer radius of detection shrinks. In Paper I we reported tests with fits to real data for two clusters, truncated at different radii, which suggested that this effect is not dominating our fits. However, X-ray surface brightness profiles extending to larger fractions of $`R_{200}`$ for groups are required to definitively settle this issue.

### 6.2 New possibilities

What might these disagreements with the models be pointing towards? Finoguenov et al. (2002) argued that the large excess entropy at $`R_{500}`$ in groups indicates that the entropy profiles in cool systems are dominated throughout by the effects of preheating. Two features of our results make us uneasy about this conclusion. Firstly, these excesses are now seen (Fig. 7) to extend up to moderately rich clusters, and to involve entropies several times those expected in the IGM at the present epoch (Valageas & Silk, 1999). Secondly, the slope of all our entropy profiles (Fig. 1) seem to scatter about the value predicted from shock heating. This is an uncomfortable coincidence if shock heating plays no role in establishing them. It is certainly possible to devise preheating scenarios which could reproduce any of our profiles, by varying the history of energy injection, and the density gradient of the gas into which this energy was injected, in the vicinity of systems of a given mass. However, such a solution would require a large amount of fine tuning.

If, on the contrary, we wish to retain shock heating as the basic mechanism responsible for generating the rising entropy profiles seen outside the core in both clusters and groups, how can this be achieved? The post-shock temperature is essentially determined by the infall velocity of gas into a halo, which could be reduced by pressure forces, but not increased above the free-fall value. Hence, the only way to raise the whole entropy profile in low mass systems, in the way implicit in Fig. 1, seems to be to reduce the density of the pre-shock gas accreting into lower mass systems, relative to that falling into rich clusters. In simple spherical collapse models, the matter turning around and accreting into haloes at a given epoch is expected to have a given overdensity. However, in reality, cosmological simulations show us that accretion is far from spherical, and that much of it takes place along filaments.

This change in topology does not in itself change the relationship between the mass of virialized systems and the density of the gas accreting into them, since structure formation is (almost) self-similar. Bigger systems have bigger filaments, and the mean density of the accretion flow at a given epoch is still set by the overdensity at turnaround, which is independent of system mass. However, this situation changes if preheating of gas in the filaments introduces an additional scale into the problem. In general, the scale height of gas in filaments will be set by hydrostatic equilibrium of the gas in the local gravitational potential of the dark matter (e.g. Valageas et al., 2002). The temperature to which gas is shock heated during the collapse of filaments will scale with their mass, and hence the effect of any thermal input into the IGM from galaxy formation or the growth of supermassive black holes will be more prominent in the smaller filaments associated with lower mass systems. Preheating will act to increase the scale height, and hence to reduce the density of gas in filaments. Even in filamentary structures which are still collapsing, preheating of the gas will increase its pressure, and retard its collapse relative to that of the dark matter.

The calculations of Tozzi & Norman (2001) show (albeit in the spherically symmetric case) that even in the preheated case, the accretion shock rapidly becomes strong once it is established, so that the post-shock entropy of gas accreting into a cluster will scale as $`T_{200}/n_1^{2/3}`$, where $`n_1`$ is the pre-shock density of the gas, and $`T_{200}`$ is the virial temperature of the cluster. Hence, if preheating reduces $`n_1`$ in lower mass systems, relative to rich clusters, then the entropy will scale sub-linearly with $`T_{200}`$, which is what we observe.

It is worth noting some features of this model. Firstly, the effect we invoke is intimately linked to the fact that the accreting gas is largely confined to filaments, and hence will not be seen in analytical and semi-analytical models, such as those of Tozzi & Norman (2001) and Babul et al. (2002), which assume spherically symmetric accretion. In the spherical case, the gas has nowhere to expand to in response to the initial preheating. Consequently any entropy rise due to preheating serves to raise the temperature of the gas, rather than to lower its density. In the lowest mass systems, this temperature rise can delay shock formation, and hence result in an isentropic core, but in high mass systems (and at large radii in low mass ones) it has essentially no effect, since the post-shock temperature is just $`T=\frac{1}{3}\mu m_pv_i^2`$ (Tozzi & Norman, 2001), where $`v_i`$ is the velocity at which gas, with mean particle mass $`\mu m_p`$, flows into the shock. In contrast, if preheating serves primarily to reduce the density of the pre-shock gas, then this will lead to a rise in post-shock entropy whatever the shock strength, since (for a given shock Mach number) the post-shock density simply scales with $`n_1`$, so that the post-shock entropy $`S_2n_1^{2/3}`$.

Secondly, this mechanism is a very efficient way of raising the entropy of intracluster gas for two reasons. As has been noted previously (Ponman et al., 1999) a given injection of energy produces a larger rise in entropy when the gas density is lower. Hence it is more effective to deposit energy into low overdensity structures such as filaments, than into fully collapsed systems like clusters. Moreover, if this injection places the gas onto a higher adiabat by reducing its density, then the effects of the accretion shock serve to raise it further. For example, Dos Santos & Doré (2002) show that the ratio between the post- and pre-shock adiabats is well approximated by

$$S_2/S_1=A(1+\frac{8\mu m_pv_i^2}{51kT_1}),$$
(10)
where A is a constant of order unity. So, a rise in $`S_1`$ by some factor, due to a density change (and hence with no change in $`T_1`$) driven by preheating, will boost $`S_2`$ by the same factor. Hence the shock has a multiplier effect, and if $`S_2/S_1`$ is large, a modest rise (in absolute terms) in $`S_1`$, may result in a much larger rise in $`S_2`$. Since the entropy will typically jump by an order of magnitude in the accretion shock, as its temperature is raised from $`10^6`$ K to $`10^7`$-$`10^8`$ K, entropy excesses of the magnitude reported here within clusters (i.e. 100-1000 keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$), might be generated from a rise in entropy of only $``$10-100 keV$`\text{ cm}^2`$ within the filaments which feed them.

Thirdly, if preheating acts primarily to reduce the density of the pre-shock gas, rather than to increase its temperature, then the Mach number of accretion shocks is not much reduced, compared to the unheated case. The post-shock entropy profiles are therefore almost entirely due to the evolution of the accretion shock, and $`S(r)r^{1.1}`$ profiles are expected, outside a small unshocked central core, in good agreement with observations.

Whilst the viability of this model clearly cannot be investigated by spherically symmetric analytical treatments, one might hope to find evidence to test it from 3-dimensional simulations of cluster formation. Rather few studies have been published which incorporate the effects of feedback into the IGM, together with a study of its effects on the entropy profiles of clusters. The results from the work of Borgani et al. (2001, 2002) and Muanwong et al. (2002), are not very encouraging. In both these studies, the effects of heating of the IGM serve to flatten the entropy profiles in clusters, with the effects being more pronounced in lower mass systems. This accords better with observations than do most 1-dimensional analytical models, insofar as distinct isentropic cores are not generally present. However, the progressive flattening of $`S(r)`$ towards lower mass systems does not agree with our observed properties (Fig. 1).

It is premature to conclude at this stage that the preheated filament model can be rejected. Feedback is very poorly understood, and its incorporation into numerical codes is notoriously difficult. In the study of Muanwong et al. (2002), feedback was included by simply raising the temperature of all gas particles by 1.5 keV at a redshift of 4. Borgani et al. (2001) adopted the approach of imposing an entropy floor on the gas in overdense ($`\delta >5`$) regions at a variety of redshifts from 1 to 5, whilst Borgani et al. (2002) attempted to model the effects of energy injection from galaxies in a more realistic way by using a semi-analytic scheme to predict the supernova rate, and sharing the resulting energy amongst gas particles in regions with $`\delta >50`$. Unfortunately, the interplay of feedback and cooling is extremely complex, and hard to model. Results tend to depend strongly on spatial resolution, and current simulations (including those of Borgani et al. and Muanwong et al. ) generally fail to reproduce the observed low cooled fraction of baryons. A wider exploration of the effects of different feedback schemes, and a study of the density of gas flowing into accretion shocks in simulations, should clarify whether the mechanism proposed here is actually the dominant effect in modifying the entropy of intracluster gas. At the same time, higher quality observations from *XMM-Newton* and *Chandra* will provide more robust determinations of observed entropy profiles in a wide range of virialized systems. Initial results from *XMM-Newton* for a small number of groups (Mushotzky et al., 2003; Pratt & Arnaud, 2003) confirm that no central isentropic core is present in these systems.

## Acknowledgments

We are grateful to Ed Lloyd-Davies and Maxim Markevitch for providing X-ray data and contributing to the original analysis, and to Stefano Borgani, Arif Babul and Paulo Tozzi for helpful discussions of the results presented here. AJRS acknowledges financial support from the University of Birmingham. This work made use of the Starlink computing facilities at Birmingham.


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# Gravitational Lensing by Burkert Halos

## 1 Introduction

It is currently believed that structure in the universe formed with nearly scale-free initial conditions from quantum fluctuations during the early parts of the inflationary phase. Subsequent growth of structure depends in part on the nature of the dark matter (DM); specifically if it is cold (non-relativistic at the epoch of matter–radiation decoupling), as would be the case for axions, clustering proceeds hierarchically with small structures collapsing before large ones. The exact nature of this evolution depends on the cosmological parameters and the nature of the DM. If the DM is entirely collisionless and cold, halos are expected to form with a nearly universal profile, independent of the final mass of the halo. A specific functional form for this profile was proposed by Navarro, Frenk & White (1996, hereafter NFW) on the basis of N-body simulations of hierarchical structure formation.

On a galaxy/sub-galaxy scale, the NFW profile for DM halos has been severely challenged by observations of rotation curves of disk galaxies (e.g. de Blok et al. 2001; Borriello & Salucci 2001). The rotation curves of low-surface-brightness (LSB), low-mass galaxies tend to rise significantly more slowly with radius than the NFW prediction. The Burkert profile for DM halos was proposed to explain the rotation curves of four dwarf galaxies (Burkert 1995), and appears to provide an excellent mass model for DM halos around disk systems up to 100 times more massive (Salucci & Burkert 2000). For the DM halos haboring elliptical galaxies, Keeton (2001) shows that the NFW profile is too concentrated to explain observed gravitational lensing. Recently, Borriello, Salucci & Danese (2002) show that the NFW profile is inconsistent with the Fundamental Plane (FP), and that the FP can be successfully explained with the Burkert profile. On a cluster scale, Wu & Xue (2000) find that the Burkert and NFW profiles provide almost indistinguishable fits to ROSAT cluster X-ray data. All this evidence suggests that the Burkert profile is a $`plausible`$ candidate for the DM halos on both galaxy and cluster scales, though it was empirically proposed and its physical origin is less well understood than the NFW profile.

Gravitational lensing offers a promising way to distinguish the different proposed halo profiles. In this letter we present an analytical expression for the Burkert-profile lens equation and show that this profile will produce strong lensing only for a certain combination of concentration index and lens–source distances. We find that Burkert halos of any mass are unlikely to act as strong lenses unless the spiral-galaxy scaling relation between characteristic mass and density breaks down on larger mass scales, or other (e.g. baryonic) components of the object provide the cusp necessary for image splitting.

In $`\mathrm{\S }`$ 2, we present the lens equation for the Burkert profile. In $`\mathrm{\S }`$ 3, we explore the properties of the Burkert lens and examine the implications of these properties. In $`\mathrm{\S }`$ 4, we summarize and discuss the results. In this letter, we consider $`\mathrm{\Lambda }`$CDM model: $`\mathrm{\Omega }_M`$ = 0.3 and $`\mathrm{\Omega }_\mathrm{\Lambda }=0.7`$ with a Hubble constant $`H_0=100h\mathrm{km}/\mathrm{s}/\mathrm{Mpc}`$ and $`h=0.75`$.

## 2 Lens Equation for the Burkert Profile

The Burkert profile has a constant density core (Burkert 1995):

$$\rho (r)=\frac{\rho _s}{(1+r/r_s)[1+(r/r_s)^2]},$$
(1)
where $`\rho _s`$ and $`r_s`$ are free parameters that represent the central DM density and the scale radius. The NFW profile has singularity at its center:

$$\rho _{\mathrm{NFW}}(r)=\frac{\rho _s}{r/r_s(1+r/r_s)^2}.$$
(2)
At very large radii, two profiles coincide: $`\rho r^3`$.

In the thin lens approximation, the lens equation for an axially symmetric mass profile is essentially one dimensional:

$$\psi (\theta )=\theta \frac{D_{LS}}{D_S}\frac{4GM_p(D_L|\theta |)}{c^2D_L\theta },$$
(3)
where $`D_{LS}=D_A(z_L,z_S)`$, $`D_L=D_A(0,z_L)`$ and $`D_S=D_A(0,z_S)`$. Here, $`z_L`$ and $`z_S`$ are respectively the redshifts of the lens and the source, and $`D_A(z_1,z_2)`$ is the angular-diameter distance from $`z_1`$ to $`z_2`$. And, $`\psi `$ and $`\theta `$ are respectively the positions of the source ($`\psi 0`$) and the image, and $`M_p(\xi )`$ is the projected mass enclosed within a projected radius $`\xi `$:

$$M_p(\xi )=2\pi _0^\xi x𝑑x_{\mathrm{}}^{\mathrm{}}𝑑z\rho (\sqrt{x^2+z^2})=4\pi \rho _sr_s^3a(\frac{\xi }{r_s}).$$
(4)
The function $`a(x)`$ can be worked out analytically:

$$a(x)=\{\begin{array}{cc}\mathrm{ln}\frac{x}{2}+\frac{\pi }{4}(\sqrt{x^2+1}1)+\frac{\sqrt{x^2+1}}{2}\mathrm{arccoth}\sqrt{x^2+1}\frac{1}{2}\sqrt{x^21}\mathrm{arctan}\sqrt{x^21}\hfill & (x>1)\\ \mathrm{ln}2\frac{\pi }{4}+\frac{1}{2\sqrt{2}}[\pi +\mathrm{ln}(3+2\sqrt{2})]\hfill & (x=1)\\ \mathrm{ln}\frac{x}{2}+\frac{\pi }{4}(\sqrt{x^2+1}1)+\frac{\sqrt{x^2+1}}{2}\mathrm{arccoth}\sqrt{x^2+1}+\frac{1}{2}\sqrt{1x^2}\mathrm{arctan}\mathrm{h}\sqrt{1x^2}\hfill & (x<1).\end{array}$$

The equivalent factor for the NFW profile, $`a_{\mathrm{NFW}}(x)`$, is given by Bartelmann (1996).

With $`\beta D_L\psi /r_s`$, $`\alpha D_L\theta /r_s`$, one can write the dimensionless lens equation:

$$\beta (\alpha )=\alpha \lambda \frac{a(|\alpha |)}{\alpha }$$
(5)
with

$$\lambda =16\pi \frac{G\rho _sr_s}{c^2}\frac{D_LD_{LS}}{D_S}=7.21h^1\left(\frac{\rho _s}{\mathrm{M}_{}\mathrm{pc}^3}\right)\left(\frac{r_s}{\mathrm{kpc}}\right)\frac{d_Ld_{LS}}{d_S},$$
(6)
where the reduced angular-diameter distance $`d_A`$ is defined to be $`d_AD_AH_0/c`$. In this letter, we use the angular diameter distance of the Friedmann-Robertson-Walker universe.

## 3 Lensing Properties and Implications

The parameter $`\lambda `$ determines all the properties of the Burkert-profile lens. Fig. 1 shows the lens equations for different values of $`\lambda `$. For $`0<\lambda \lambda _c=8/\pi `$, Burkert halos cannot induce strong lensing. In contrast, the NFW halos can induce strong lensing for any $`\lambda `$. Fig. 2 shows magnification $`\mu `$ of the Burkert halos for different values of $`\lambda `$: $`\mu =d\alpha ^2/d\beta ^2`$. For $`\lambda =4>\lambda _c`$, two peaks in the magnification curve correspond to the radial and tangential arcs respectively. For $`\lambda \lambda _c`$, the magnification curves have the peak at $`\alpha =0`$.

Modeling strong lensing with the Burkert halos requires $`\lambda >\lambda _c`$, for which multiple images are formed only if the impact parameter $`\beta \beta _c`$. Here, $`\beta _c`$ is the maximum of $`\beta (\alpha )`$ in the range $`\alpha <0`$ (see Fig. 1). The cross section for strong lensing by the Burkert halos is $`\sigma =\pi (\beta _cr_s/D_L)^2`$. If $`\beta =0`$, then an Einstein ring is formed at the radius $`\alpha _t`$, which is a positive solution of $`\alpha _t^2=\lambda a(\alpha _t)`$. (For a lens at $`z_L=0.5`$ with a scale radius $`r_s=30\mathrm{k}\mathrm{p}\mathrm{c}`$, $`\alpha _t=0.1`$ corresponds to $`\mathrm{\Delta }\theta 1\mathrm{}`$.) For $`0<\beta <\beta _c`$, three images are formed. The separation between the two brighter images is $`\mathrm{\Delta }\theta 2\alpha _tr_s/D_L`$. Fig. 3 shows the critical impact parameter $`\beta _c`$ and the Einstein radius $`\alpha _t`$ as a function of $`\lambda `$ for the Burkert and NFW halos. While the impact parameter of the Burkert halo is always less than that of the NFW halo for fixed $`\lambda `$, the image separation $`\alpha _t`$ of the Burkert halos becomes larger than that of the NFW halos when $`\lambda `$ becomes greater than $`7`$.

The difference between the two profiles near $`r=0`$ leads to a dramatic difference in the cross section for strong lensing for a given image separation $`\mathrm{\Delta }\theta `$ or $`\alpha _t`$. For small separations (say, $`\alpha _t0.1`$) the impact parameter $`\beta _c`$ required for the Burkert halo to induce splitting is considerably smaller than that of the NFW halo. For example, the ratios are $`8.9\times 10^4`$ and $`3.2\times 10^2`$ for $`\alpha _t=0.01,0.1`$ respectively; the relative cross sections scale as $`\beta _c^2`$. Thus for the same distribution of $`r_s`$, the lensing optical depth due to Burkert halos is almost vanishingly small compared to that due to NFW halos. This is particularly true for lensing by galaxy-scale objects; for example the probability for a QSO image to be split by a single intervening giant elliptical galaxy is at least $`10^3`$ times smaller for a Burkert profile than for an NFW profile, for the same $`r_s`$ and mass. This is not true for large image separations ($`\alpha _t1`$) as might be the case for giant arcs formed by cluster-scale lenses. In this case the Burkert halos yield optical depths comparable to the NFW halos, though slightly less (by a factor $`0.1`$ to $`0.5`$).

The condition $`\lambda >\lambda _c`$ corresponds to restricted area in the ($`\rho _s,r_s`$) parameter plane. The condition can be rephrased as:

$$\left(\frac{\rho _s}{\mathrm{M}_{}\mathrm{pc}^3}\right)\left(\frac{r_s}{\mathrm{kpc}}\right)>f(z_L,z_S)$$
(7)
where

$$f(z_L,z_S)=0.353h\frac{d_S}{d_Ld_{LS}}.$$
(8)
In Fig. 4 we plot strong lensing demarcation curves: $`(\rho _s/\mathrm{M}_{}\mathrm{pc}^3)(r_s/\mathrm{kpc})=f_m(z_S)`$ for $`z_S=1,3,5`$. Here, $`f_m(z_S)`$ is the minimum of $`f(z_L,z_S)`$ in the range $`0<z_L<z_S`$. Burkert halos with ($`\rho _s,r_s`$) located above the demarcation curve for a given $`z_S`$ can induce strong lensing, those below the demarcation curve cannot.

The rotation curves of late-type LSB galaxies and dwarfs suggest that Burkert halos for these galaxies lie in a narrow strip in the ($`\rho _s,r_s`$) plane: $`\rho _s/\mathrm{M}_{}\mathrm{pc}^3=4.5\times 10^2(r_s/\mathrm{kpc})^{2/3}`$, which is the thick solid line in Fig. 4. Salucci & Burkert (2000) confirmed the relation for disk galaxies up to 100 times more massive. At the highest masses in their sample there is an apparent change of slope, suggesting a cutoff in the masses of halos that harbor individual disk galaxies at $`M2\times 10^{12}\mathrm{M}_{}`$.

We overplot some of these low-redshift measurements in Fig. 4. The black circles with error bars are from the recent H$`\alpha `$ rotation curves of late-type dwarf galaxies by Marchesini et al. (2002), which lie near the scaling relation line. For comparison, we add the lensing cluster CL0024+1654 at $`z_L=0.39`$. The central density and scale radius of the cluster are estimated by Firmani et al. (2001). Though the cluster is claimed to have soft core (Tyson, Kochanski & Dell’Antonio 1998; however see Broadhurst et al. 2000), there is no evidence that the cluster has the Burkert profile. The cluster is clearly well off the scaling relation defined by low-redshift disk galaxies (which, like the cluster, are argued to be dark-matter dominated over most of their observed radii).

It is clear that the mass profiles of strong strong lens systems (e.g. Kochanek et al. 2003) must be cuspier than the Burkert profiles on the spiral-galaxy scaling relation. If these systems have Burkert profile DM halos, then the baryonic matter in these systems must be distributed in a much steeper way than the DM. It is then the baryonic matter (not DM) that induces strong lensing. Unless the baryonic matter has very steep core profiles, the total mass profile will remain close to the Burkert profile and still be highly unlikely to induce strong lensing. For example, the inclusion of exponential stellar disk effectively reduces the $`\lambda _c`$ for face-on spirals:

$$\lambda _c=\frac{8}{\pi +2\mathrm{\Sigma }_0/\rho _sr_s},$$
(9)
where $`\mathrm{\Sigma }_0`$ is the surface density of the stellar disk at $`\xi =0`$. For an $`L^{}`$ spiral with $`M_{\mathrm{disk}}=2\times 10^{11}M_{}`$, we obtain $`\mathrm{\Sigma }_0702\mathrm{M}_{}\mathrm{pc}^2`$, the disk scale length $`r_d4.76\mathrm{kpc}`$, $`\rho _s3.78\times 10^3\mathrm{M}_{}\mathrm{pc}^3`$ and $`r_s19.3\mathrm{kpc}`$ from the relation of Salucci & Borriello (2002), who extend the scaling relation of Burkert halos including the exponential stellar disk. For this system (the rotational velocity $`v_c=240\mathrm{k}\mathrm{m}/\mathrm{s}`$ at $`r=10\mathrm{k}\mathrm{p}\mathrm{c}`$), we have $`\lambda _c0.357`$, which is significantly less than $`8/\pi `$. However, $`\lambda `$ is less than $`0.18`$ up to $`z_S=8`$, which means that the face-on $`L^{}`$ spiral systems (Burkert halo + exponential stellar disk) cannot produce strong lensing up to $`z_S=8`$, unless other baryonic matter such as a bulge is included.

Fig. 4 also shows that the Burkert halos extrapolated from the late-type galaxy scaling relation cannot be used to account for lensing on cluster scales ($`r_s100\mathrm{k}\mathrm{p}\mathrm{c}`$). One can model a lensing cluster with a Burkert halo, whose $`(\rho _s,r_s)`$ should be beyond the demarcation line for a given $`z_S`$ as those of the galaxy cluster CL0024+1654 are. The cluster can induce strong lensing for $`z_S>1.0`$, not for $`z_S<1.0`$ if the cluster is indeed a Burkert halo. If DM halos at cluster scales do have the Burkert profile, there must be be (at least) two different families of the Burkert halos.

## 4 Discussion

We present an analytic lens equation for the Burkert halos, and use it to characterize their lensing properties. We show that, as a result of their soft core, the Burkert halos are much less likely to induce strong lensing than the NFW halos. While the qualitative result is fairly obvious, when calculated in detail, the differences in the strong-lensing predictions for the two profiles turn out to be quite dramatic. If galaxies are indeed harbored by the Burkert halos, it implies that the baryonic matter (not DM) is responsible for strong lensing and that it is distributed in a much steeper way than the Burkert profile in strong lensing systems. For strong lensing systems (mostly elliptical galaxies), the total mass profiles for these systems have steeper inner slopes than the Burkert profile (Koopmans & Treu 2003). It remains to be seen whether this is due to a distribution of baryons or cuspiness in the DM profile for these systems.

On a galaxy scale, lens modeling combining stellar and DM components has been carried out for the NFW profile (e.g. Keeton 2001) and is proving to be a useful tool to test the validity of the proposed DM profile. Similar modeling with the Burkert profile will test its validity. On a cluster scale, the validity of the Burkert halos can be tested through galaxy kinematics (e.g. Sand, Treu & Ellis 2002) and X-ray observations (e.g. Wu & Xue 2000). The detailed test methods will be addressed in future articles. While challenging, it also may be feasible to constrain halo profiles by combining measurements of tangential shear and strong lensing for the same objects.

We are grateful to Stefano Casertano for numerous conversations, sage advice, and insightful comments on the manuscript. Support for this work was provided by the Director’s Discretionary Research Fund at the Space Telescope Science Institute, which is operated by AURA, Inc., under NASA contract NAS 5-26555.


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# References

Atomic Qubit Manipulations with an Electro-Optic Modulator

P. J. Lee, B. B. Blinov, K. Brickman, L. Deslauriers, M. J. Madsen, R. Miller, D. L. Moehring, D. Stick, and C. Monroe

FOCUS Center and Department of Physics, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, MI 48109-1120

## Abstract

We report new techniques for driving high-fidelity stimulated Raman transitions in trapped ion qubits. An electro-optic modulator induces sidebands on an optical source, and interference between the sidebands allows coherent Rabi transitions to be efficiently driven between hyperfine ground states separated by $`14.53GHz`$ in a single trapped $`{}_{}{}^{111}Cd^+`$ ion.

OCIS codes: 020.7010, 020.1670, 300.6520, 270.0270.

A collection of trapped atomic ions is one of the most attractive candidates for a large-scale quantum computer . Ground-state hyperfine levels within trapped ions can act as nearly ideal quantum bit memories and be measured with essentially perfect quantum efficiency . Qubits based on trapped ions can be entangled by applying appropriate radiation that couples the internal levels of the ions with their collective quantum motion . Such quantum logic gates are best realized with stimulated Raman transitions (SRT), involving two phase-coherent optical fields with frequency difference equal to the hyperfine splitting of the ion . These fields are far detuned from the excited state, making decoherence due to spontaneous Raman scattering negligible, though the SRT coupling itself vanishes when the detuning becomes much larger than the excited state fine-structure splitting. We therefore desire qubit ions such as $`{}_{}{}^{111}Cd^+`$ or $`{}_{}{}^{199}Hg^+`$ that have a large fine-structure splitting. Such ions also exhibit a large ground-state hyperfine splitting, making it difficult to span the frequency difference with conventional acousto-optic modulators. In this letter, we describe several methods for driving SRT in trapped $`{}_{}{}^{111}Cd^+`$ ions using a high frequency electro-optic phase modulator (EOM).

The experiment is conducted in an asymmetric quadrupole rf ion trap, as described in previous work . Qubits are stored in the $`{}_{}{}^{2}S_{1/2}^{}`$ $`|F=1,m_F=0`$ and $`|F=0,m_F=0`$ ground state hyperfine levels of a single trapped $`{}_{}{}^{111}Cd^+`$ ion (nuclear spin $`I=1/2`$), with a frequency splitting of $`\omega _{HF}=14.53GHz`$, as shown in figure 1b.

Rabi oscillations are measured by performing the following sequence: (see Fig 1)(i) The ion is optically pumped to the $`|F=0,m_F=0`$ qubit state by $`\pi `$-polarized radiation resonant with the $`{}_{}{}^{2}S_{1/2}^{}(F=1)^2P_{3/2}(F=1)`$ transition. (ii) SRT are driven by applying the electro-optic modulated Raman beams to the ion for time $`\tau `$. (iii) The qubit state is measured by collecting the ion fluorescence from a $`1ms`$ pulse of $`\sigma ^{}`$-polarized radiation resonant with the cycling transition $`{}_{}{}^{2}S_{1/2}^{}(F=1)^2P_{3/2}(F=2)`$. This sequence is repeated multiple times for each $`\tau `$, and the Rabi frequency $`\mathrm{\Omega }`$ is extracted from the averaged fluorescence oscillation in time (an example is shown in Figure 2).

We use a tunable frequency-quadrupled Ti:Sapphire laser operating near 214.5nm for the resonant optical pumping and detection steps (i) and (iii). For the SRT in step (ii), a 458nm $`Nd:YVO_4`$ laser is phase-modulated with a resonant EOM at $`\omega _{HF}/22\pi \times 7.265GHz`$ and subsequently frequency doubled. The blue optical field following the EOM can be written as

$$E_1=\frac{E_0}{2}e^{i(kx\omega t)}\underset{n=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}J_n(\varphi )e^{in((\delta k)x\omega _{HF}t/2)}+c.c.,$$
(1)
where $`E_0`$ is the unmodulated field amplitude, $`J_n(\varphi )`$ is the n-th order Bessel function with modulation index $`\varphi `$, and $`\delta k=\omega _{HF}/2c`$. We couple the beam into a build-up cavity containing a BBO crystal for sum frequency generation. The free spectral range (fsr) of the cavity is carefully tuned to be 1/4 of the modulation frequency so that the carrier and all the sidebands resonate simultaneously. The resulting ultraviolet radiation consists of a comb of frequencies centered at 229nm and separated by $`\omega _{HF}/2`$. The carrier is detuned by $`\mathrm{\Delta }/2\pi 14THz`$ from the excited $`{}_{}{}^{2}P_{1/2}^{}`$ state (the fine-structure splitting between $`{}_{}{}^{2}P_{1/2}^{}`$ and $`{}_{}{}^{2}P_{3/2}^{}`$ is $`72THz`$), resulting in an expected probability of spontaneous emission per Rabi cycle of $`10^5`$. At the output of the cavity the electric field becomes

$$E_2=\eta \frac{E_0^2}{4}e^{2i(kx\omega t)}\underset{n=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}J_n(2\varphi )e^{in((\delta k)x\omega _{HF}t/2)}+c.c.,$$
(2)
where $`\eta `$ is the harmonic conversion efficiency (assumed constant over all frequencies considered). All pairs of spectral components of electric field separated by frequency $`\omega _{HF}`$ can individually drive SRT in the ion, but the net Rabi frequency vanishes due to a destructive interference. Therefore, the relative phases and/or amplitudes of the spectral components in Eq 2 must be modified in order to drive SRT. We present three schemes below.

One approach is to employ a Mach-Zehnder (MZ) interferometer, where the beam is split and recombined at another location with path length difference $`\mathrm{\Delta }x`$ (see figure 1c). The expression for the Rabi frequency is

$$\mathrm{\Omega }=\frac{\mu _1\mu _2E_2E_2^{}e^{i\omega _{HF}t}}{\mathrm{}^2\mathrm{\Delta }}=\mathrm{\Omega }_0e^{i(\delta k)(2x+\mathrm{\Delta }x)}\underset{n=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}J_n(2\varphi )J_{n2}(2\varphi )cos((2k+(n1)\delta k)\mathrm{\Delta }x),$$
(3)
where $`\mu _1`$ and $`\mu _2`$ are the matrix elements of the electric dipole moment for a transition between the respective hyperfine states and the excited state, and the fields are time-averaged under the rotating wave approximation ($`\mathrm{\Omega }<<\omega _{HF}<<\mathrm{\Delta }`$). The base Rabi frequency $`\mathrm{\Omega }_0=\frac{\mu _1\mu _2}{\mathrm{}^2\mathrm{\Delta }}\left|\eta E_0^2/4\right|^2`$ pertains to the usual case of SRT with a pair of monochromatic Raman beams separated in frequency by $`\omega _{HF}`$ and each with field amplitude $`\eta E_0^2/4`$. For $`(\delta k)\mathrm{\Delta }x=(2j+1)\pi `$, where $`j`$ is an integer, the Rabi frequency can be as high as $`\mathrm{\Omega }=0.487\mathrm{\Omega }_0`$ for $`\varphi =0.764`$. One drawback to the form of Eq 3 is that the $`k\mathrm{\Delta }x`$ factor in the cosine requires optical stability of the MZ interferometer. This can be circumvented by introducing a relative frequency shift $`\mathrm{\Delta }\omega >>\mathrm{\Omega }`$ between the two paths of the MZ. This shift can be compensated by changing the modulation frequency of the EOM by $`\pm \mathrm{\Delta }\omega /2`$, resulting in a Rabi frequency of

$$\mathrm{\Omega }=\mathrm{\Omega }_0e^{ik\mathrm{\Delta }x}e^{2i(\delta k)\mathrm{\Delta }x}\underset{n=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}J_n(2\varphi )J_{n2}(2\varphi )e^{in(\delta k)\mathrm{\Delta }x},$$
(4)
where $`\mathrm{\Delta }k=\mathrm{\Delta }\omega /2c<<\delta k`$. Note that the cosine term has been replaced by a phase factor $`e^{ik\mathrm{\Delta }x}`$, thus eliminating the effects of small changes in $`\mathrm{\Delta }x`$ on the magnitude of the Rabi frequency. In this case, the SRT Rabi frequency can be as high as $`\mathrm{\Omega }=0.244\mathrm{\Omega }_0`$ for $`\varphi =0.764`$ and $`\delta k\mathrm{\Delta }x=(2j+1)\pi `$, where $`j`$ is an integer.

In the experiment, we set $`\mathrm{\Delta }\omega `$ to be $`2\pi \times 4MHz`$ and measure the Rabi frequency $`\mathrm{\Omega }`$ as the relative path length $`\mathrm{\Delta }x`$ of the MZ is varied. We fit $`\mathrm{\Omega }`$ to Eq 4 to extract the modulation index $`\varphi `$, which is also independently measured with a Fabry-Perot spectrum analyzer. The results are plotted in Figure 3. The dependence on gross path length difference with spatial period $`\mathrm{\Delta }x=2\pi /\delta k=4.13cm`$ is clearly visible .

We also shaped the sideband spectrum without using a MZ interferometer by detuning the fsr of the frequency doubling cavity slightly from a subharmonic of the EOM frequency. This detuning modifies the amplitude and phase of each sideband with respect to the carrier, resulting in a Rabi frequency of

$$\mathrm{\Omega }=2\mathrm{\Omega }_0e^{2i(\delta k)x}\underset{n=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}\underset{m=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}\underset{l=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}\left(\frac{J_{nm}(\varphi )}{1i2(nm)\delta }\right)\left(\frac{J_m(\varphi )}{1i2m\delta }\right)\left(\frac{J_{n+2l}(\varphi )}{1+i2(n+2l)\delta }\right)\left(\frac{J_l(\varphi )}{1+i2l\delta }\right),$$
(5)
where $`\delta <1`$ is the number of cavity linewidths by which the first sideband is detuned from a cavity resonance. Figure 4 displays $`\mathrm{\Omega }`$ versus $`\varphi `$ for various cavity detunings, and the data agree with Eq 5.

Another possible scheme involves the suppression of certain spectral components. By setting the fsr of the cavity to be $`\omega _{HF}/(2n+1)`$ where n is an integer, only alternating sidebands will resonate. When the even or odd sidebands are selected, we find

$$\mathrm{\Omega }_{even}=\mathrm{\Omega }_0e^{2i(\delta k)x}\underset{n=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}\underset{m=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}\underset{l=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}J_{2(nm)}(\varphi )J_{2m}(\varphi )J_{2(n+1l)}(\varphi )J_{2l}(\varphi ).$$
(6)
$$\mathrm{\Omega }_{odd}=\mathrm{\Omega }_0e^{2i(\delta k)x}\underset{n=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}\underset{m=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}\underset{l=\mathrm{}}{\overset{\mathrm{}}{}}J_{2(nm)+1}(\varphi )J_{2m+1}(\varphi )J_{2(n+1l)+1}(\varphi )J_{2l+1}(\varphi ).$$
(7)
The maximum $`\mathrm{\Omega }_{even}`$ is $`0.230\mathrm{\Omega }_0`$ at modulation frequency $`\varphi =1.173`$, while the maximum $`\mathrm{\Omega }_{odd}`$ is $`0.279\mathrm{\Omega }_0`$ at $`\varphi =1.603`$.

The techniques reported here have been extended to drive SRT between internal and motional states of trapped ions for entangling quantum logic operations. Here, the modulated Raman beams are split with a beamsplitter and recombined at the ion with non-copropagating wavevectors. The resulting MZ interferometer gives rise to Rabi oscillations according to Eqs 3 or 4, with the additional dependence on the motional state of the ion. In addition, by inserting an appropriate relative frequency shift $`\mathrm{\Delta }\omega `$ between the arms of the interferometer, the resulting pair of offset frequency combs can be used to implement the Molmer-Sorensen bichromatic quantum logic gate scheme.

In summary, we have used a high-frequency EOM to demonstrate SRT Rabi oscillations on a single trapped $`{}_{}{}^{111}Cd^+`$ ion with a frequency separation of $`14.53GHz`$, where spontaneous emission is expected to be negligible. The techniques of shaping the sideband spectrum or creating an interference pattern between multiple modulated beams results in efficient use of the optical power for SRT. This new tool for coherent control of single ions brings us one step forward in buiding higher fidelity quantum logic gates.

We wish to acknowledge useful discussions with Ralph Conti and Chitra Rangan. This work was supported by the U.S. National Security Agency and the Advanced Research and Development Activity under U.S. Army Research Office contract DAAD19-01-1-0667, and the National Science Foundation ITR Program.