Kit had had to get back to normal space as soon as possible, in order
to be available in case of need. He wanted to get back in time to help
his sisters pull themselves together. Think as he would, he could
find no flaw in any one of them; but he knew that Mentor would find
something or other the matter with each of them. Not a weakness in any
ordinary sense, but a strength which was not the ultimate.
Kinnison had had to get back because his business was really pressing.
He had called a conference of all the Second-Stage Lensmen and his
children; a conference which, bizarrely enough, was to be held in
person and not via Lens.
"Not strictly necessary, of course," the Gray Lensman half-apologized
to his son as their speedster neared the point of rendezvous with
the _Dauntless_. "I still think that it's a good idea, though,
especially since we were all so close to Lyrane anyway."
"So do I. It's been a mighty long time since we were all together.
Everybody's there now except Nadreck--he'll board about the same time
we do."
They boarded. Spacehounds both, they saw to it that their speedster was
dogged down solidly into her chocks before they went to the main saloon.
"Hi, Mums! Still stopping traffic at all intersections, I see!" Kit
lowered his mother's feet to the floor and attempted the physically
impossible feat of embracing all four of his sisters at once.
By common consent the Five used only their eyes. Nothing showed.
Nevertheless, the girls blushed vividly and Kit's face twisted into a
dry, wry grin.
"It was good for what ailed us, though, at that--I guess." Kit did
not seem to be at all positive. "Mentor, the lug, told me no less
than six times that I had arrived--or at least made statements which
I interpreted as meaning that. And Eukonidor just told me that I was
a 'finished tool,' whatever that means. Personally, I think that they
were sitting back and wondering how long it was going to take us to
realize that we never could be half as good as we used to think we
were. Suppose?"
"Something like that, probably. We've shivered more than once,
wondering whether we are really finished products yet or not."
"We've learned--I hope." Karen, hard as she was, did shiver,
physically. "If we aren't it will be ... _p-s-s-t_--Dad's starting
the meeting!"
"... so settle down, all of you, and we'll get going."
What a group! Tregonsee of Rigel IV--stolid, solid, blocky,
immobile; looking as little as possible like one of the profoundest
thinkers Civilization had ever produced--did not move. Worsel, the
ultrasensitive yet utterly implacable Velantian, curled out three or
four eyes and looked on languidly while Constance kicked a few coils
of his tail onto a comfortable chaise longue, reclined unconcernedly
in the seat thus made, and lighted an Alsakanite cigarette. Clarrissa
Kinnison, radiant in her Grays and looking scarcely older than her
daughters, sat beside Kathryn, each with an arm around the other.
Karen and Camilla, neither of whom could ordinarily be described by
the adjective "cuddlesome," were on a davenport with Kit, snuggling
as close to him as they could get. And in the farthest corner the
heavily-armored, heavily-insulated spacesuit which contained Nadreck of
Palain VII chilled the atmosphere for yards around.
"QX?" Kinnison began. "We'll take Nadreck first, since he isn't any too
happy here, and let him flit--he'll keep in touch from outside after he
leaves. Report, please, Nadreck."
* * * * *
"I have explored Lyrane IX _thoroughly_." Nadreck made the
statement and paused. When he used such a thought at all, it meant
much. When he emphasized it, which no one there had ever before known
him to do, it meant that he had examined the planet practically atom
by atom. "There was no life of the level of intelligence in which
we are interested to be found on, beneath, or above its surface. I
could find no evidence that such life has ever been there, either as
permanent dwellers or as occasional visitors."
"When Nadreck settles anything as definitely as that, it stays
settled," Kinnison remarked as soon as the Palainian had left. "I'll
report next. You all know what I did about Kalonia, and so on. The
only significant fact I have been able to find--the only lead to the
Boskonian higher-ups--is that Black Lensman Melasnikov got his Lens on
Lyrane IX. There were no traces of mental surgery. I can see two, and
only two, alternatives. Either there was mental surgery which I could
not detect, or there were visitors to Lyrane IX who left no traces of
their visits. More reports may enable us to decide. Worsel?"
The Second-Stage Lensmen reported in turn. Each had uncovered leads to
Lyrane IX, but Worsel and Tregonsee, who had also studied that planet
with care, agreed with Nadreck that there was nothing to be found there.
"Kit?" Kinnison asked then. "How about you and the girls?"
"We believe that Lyrane IX was visited by beings having sufficient
power of mind to leave no traces whatever as to who they were or
where they came from. We also believe that there was no surgery,
but an infinitely finer kind of work--an indetectable subconscious
compulsion--done on the minds of the Black Lensmen and others who
came into physical contact with the Boskonians. These opinions are
based upon experiences which we five have had and upon deductions we
have made. If we are right, Lyrane is actually, as well as apparently,
a dead end and should be abandoned. Furthermore, we believe that the
Black Lensmen have not been and cannot become important."
The Co-ordinator was surprised, but after Kit and his sisters had
detailed their findings and their deductions, he turned to the
Rigellian.
"What next, then, Tregonsee?"
"After Lyrane IX, it seems to me that the two most promising subjects
are those entities who think upon such a high band, and the phenomenon
which has been called 'The Hell Hole in Space.' Of the two, I preferred
the first until Camilla's researches showed that the available data
could not be reconciled with the postulate that the life-forms of
her reconstruction were identical with those reported to you as
Co-ordinator. This data, however, was scanty and casual. While we
are here, therefore, I suggest that we review this matter much more
carefully, in the hope that additional information will enable us to
come to a definite conclusion, one way or the other. Since it was her
research, Camilla will lead."
* * * * *
"First, a question," Camilla began. "Imagine a sun so variable that
it periodically covers practically the entire possible range. It has
a planet whose atmosphere, liquid, and distance are such that its
surface temperature varies from approximately two hundred degrees
Centigrade in midsummer to about five degrees absolute in midwinter.
In the spring its surface is almost completely submerged. There are
terrible winds and storms in the spring, summer, and fall; but the
fall storms are the worst. Has anyone here ever heard of such a planet
having an intelligent life-form able to maintain a continuing existence
through such varied environments by radical changes in its physical
body?"
A silence ensued, which Nadreck finally broke.
"I know of two such planets. Near Palain there is an extremely variable
sun, two of whose planets support life. All of the higher life-forms,
the highest of which are quite intelligent, undergo regular and radical
changes, not only of form, but of organization."
"Thanks, Nadreck. That will perhaps make my story believable. From
the thoughts of one of the entities in question, I reconstructed
such a solar system. More, that entity himself belonged to just such
a race. It was _such_ a nice reconstruction," Camilla went on,
plaintively, "and it fitted all those other life-forms so beautifully,
especially Kat's 'four-cycle periods.' And to prove it, Kat--put up
your block, now--you never told anybody the classification of your pet
to more than seven places, did you, or even thought about it?"
"No." Kathryn's mind, since the moment of warning, had been unreadable.
"Take the seven. The next three were S-T-R. Check?"
"Check."
"But that makes it _solid_, Sis!" Kit exclaimed.
"That's what I thought, for a minute--that we had Boskone at last.
However, when Tregonsee and I first felt 'X,' long before you met
yours, Kat, his classification was TUUV. That would fit in well enough
as a spring form, with Kat's as the summer form. What ruins it, though,
is that when he killed himself, just a little while ago and long
after a summer form could possibly exist--to say nothing of a spring
form--his classification was _still_ TUUV. To ten places it was
TUUVWYXXWT."
"Well, go on," Kinnison suggested. "What do you make of it?"
"The obvious explanation is that one or all of those entities were
planted or primed--not specifically for us, probably, since we are
relatively unknown, but for any competent observer. If so, they don't
mean a thing." Camilla was not now overestimating her own powers or
underestimating those of Boskonia. "There are several others, less
obvious, leading to the same conclusion. Tregonsee is not ready to
believe any of them, however, and neither am I. Assuming that our data
was not biased, we must also account for the fact that the locations in
space were--"
"Just a minute, Cam, before you leave the classifications," Constance
interrupted. "I'm guarded--what was my friend's, to ten places?"
"VWZYTXSYZY," Camilla replied, unhesitatingly.
"Right; and I don't believe that it was planted, either, so there--"
"Let me in a second!" Kit demanded. "I didn't know that you were on
that band at all. I got that RTSL thing even before I graduated--"
"Huh? What RTSL?" Cam broke in, sharply.
"My fault," Kinnison put in then. "Skipped my mind entirely, when she
asked me for the dope. None of us thought any of this stuff important
until just now, you know. Tell her, Kit."
* * * * *
Kit repeated his story, concluding:
"Beyond four places was pretty dim, but Q P arms and legs--Dhilian,
eh?--would fit, and so would an R-type hide. Both Kat's and mine, then,
could very well have been summer forms, one of their years apart. The
thing I felt was on its own planet, and it _died_ there, and
credits to millos the thought I got wasn't primed. And the location--"
"Brake down, Kit," Camilla instructed. "Let's settle this thing of
timing first. I've got a theory, but I want some ideas from the rest of
you."
"Maybe something like this?" Clarrissa asked, after a few minutes
of silence. "In many forms which metamorphose completely the change
depends upon temperature. No change takes place as long as the
temperature remains the same. Your TUUV could have been flitting around
in a spaceship at constant temperature. Could this apply here, Cam, do
you think?"
"_Could_ it?" Kinnison exclaimed. "That's it, Chris, sure!"
"That was my theory," Camilla said, still dubiously, "but there is no
proof that it applies. Nadreck, do you know whether or not it applies
to your neighbors?"
"Unfortunately, I do not; but I can find out--by experiment if
necessary."
"It might be a good idea," Kinnison suggested. "Go on, Cam."
"Assuming its truth, there is still left the problem of location,
which Kit has just made infinitely worse than it was before. Con's and
mine were so indefinite that they might possibly have been reconciled
with Kat's precisely-known co-ordinates; but yours, Kit, is almost as
definite as Kat's, and cannot possibly be made to agree with it. After
all, you know, there are many planets peopled by races humanoid to ten
places. And if there are four different races, none of them can be the
one we want."
"I don't believe it," Kit argued. "Not that I think on that peculiar
band. I'm sure enough of my dope so that I want to cross-question Kat
on hers. QX, Kat?"
"Surely, Kit. Any questions you like."
"Those minds both had plenty of jets--how do you know that he was
telling you the truth? Did you drive in to see? Are you sure even that
you saw his real shape?"
"Certainly I'm sure of his shape!" Kathryn snapped. "If there had
been any zones of compulsion around, I would have known it and got
suspicious right then."
"Maybe, and maybe not," Kit disagreed. "That might depend, you know, on
how good the guy was who was putting out the zone."
"Nuts!" Kathryn snorted, inelegantly. "But as to his telling the truth
about his home planet--I'm not sure of that, no. I didn't check his
channels. I was thinking about other things then." The Five knew that
she had just left Mentor. "But why should he want to lie about a thing
like that--he would have, though, at that. Good Boskonian technique."
"Sure. In your official capacity of Co-ordinator, Dad, what do you
think?"
"The probability is that all those four forms of life belong on one
planet. Your location must be wrong, Kat--he gave you the wrong galaxy,
even. Too close to Trenco, too--Tregonsee and I both know that region
like a book and no such variable is anywhere near there. We've got to
find out all about that planet as soon as possible. Worsel, will you
please get the charts of Kit's region? Kit, will you check with the
planetographers of Klovia as to the variable stars anywhere near where
you want them, and how many planets they've got? I'll call Tellus."
* * * * *
The charts were studied, and in due time the reports of the
planetographers were received. The Klovian scientists reported that
there were four long-period variables in the designated volume of
space, gave the spatial co-ordinates and catalogue numbers of each,
and all available data concerning their planets. The Tellurians
reported only three, in considerably less detail; but they had named
each sun and each planet.
"Which one did they leave out?" Kinnison wondered audibly as he fitted
the two transparencies together. "This one they call Artonon, no
planets. Dunlie, two planets, Abab and Dunster. Descriptions, and so
on. Rontieff, one planet that they don't know anything about except the
name they have given it. Silly-sounding names--suppose they assemble
them by grabbing letters at random? Ploor--"
PLOOR: At last! Only their instantaneous speed of reaction enabled the
Five to conceal from the linkage the shrieked thought of what Ploor
really meant. After a flashing exchange of thought, Kit smoothly took
charge of the conference.
"The planet Ploor should be investigated first, I think," he resumed
communication with the group as though his attention had not wavered.
"It is the planet nearest the most probable point of origin of that
thought-burst. Also, the period of the variable and the planet's
distance seem to fit our observations and deductions better than any of
the others. Any arguments?"
No arguments. They all agreed. Kinnison, however, demanded action;
direct and fast.
"We'll investigate it!" he exclaimed. "With the _Dauntless_, the
_Z9M9Z_, and Grand Fleet; and with our very special knickknack as
an ace up our sleeve!"
"Just a minute, Dad!" Kit protested. "If, as some of this material
seems to indicate, the Ploorans actually are the top of the Boskonian
culture, even that array may not be enough."
"You may be right--probably are. What, then? What do you say,
Tregonsee?"
"Fleet action, yes," the Rigellian agreed. "Also, as you implied,
but did not clearly state, independent but correlated action by us
five Second-Stage Lensmen, with our various skills. I would suggest,
however, that your children be put first--very definitely first--in
command."
"We object--we haven't got jets enough to--"
"Overruled!" Kinnison did not have to think to make that decision. He
knew. "Any other objections?... Approved. I'll call Cliff Maitland
right now, then, and get things going."
* * * * *
That call, however, was never sent; for at that moment the mind of
Mentor of Arisia flooded the group.
"Children, attend! This intrusion is necessary because a matter has
come up which will permit of no delay. Boskonia is now launching the
attack which has been in preparation for over twenty years. Arisia
is to be the first point of attack. Kinnison, Tregonsee, Worsel, and
Nadreck will take immediate steps to assemble the Grand Fleet of the
Galactic Patrol in defense. I will confer at length with the younger
Kinnisons.
"The Eddorians, as you know," Mentor went on to the Children of the
Lens, "believe primarily in the efficacy of physical, material force.
While they possess minds of real power, they use them principally as
tools in the development of more and ever more efficient mechanical
devices. We of Arisia, on the other hand, believe in the superiority
of the mind. A fully competent mind would have no need of material
devices, since it could control all material substance directly. While
we have made some progress toward that end, and you will make more
in the cycles to come, Civilization is, and for some time will be,
dependent upon physical things. Hence the Galactic Patrol and its Grand
Fleet.
"The Eddorians, after ages of effort, have succeeded in inventing a
mechanical generator able to block our most penetrant thoughts. They
believe implicitly that their vessels, so protected, will be able to
destroy our planet. They may believe that the destruction of our planet
would so weaken us that they would be able to destroy us. It is assumed
that you children have deduced that neither we nor the Eddorians can be
slain by physical force?"
"Yes--the clincher being that no suggestion was made about giving
Eddore a planet from nth space."
"We Arisians, during an equally long time, have been aiding Nature in
the development of minds much abler than our own. While those minds
will not attain their full powers until after many years of work and
study, we believe that you will be able, immature as you are, to use
the Patrol and its resources to defend Arisia and to destroy the
Boskonian fleet. That we cannot do it ourselves is implicit in what I
have said."
"But that means ... this is the big show, then, that you have been
hinting at so long?"
"Far from it. An important engagement, of course, but only preliminary
to the real test, which will come when we invade Eddore. Do you agree
with us that if Arisia were to be destroyed now, it would be difficult
to repair the damage done to the morale of the Galactic Patrol?"
"Difficult? It would be impossible!"
"Not necessarily. We have considered the matter at length, however, and
have decided that a Boskonian success at this time would not be for the
good of Civilization."
"I'll say it wouldn't--that's a masterpiece of understatement if there
ever was one! Also, a successful defense of Arisia would be about the
best thing that the Patrol could possibly do for itself."
"Exactly so. Go, then, children, and work to that end."
"But how, Mentor--_how_?"
"Again I tell you that I do not know. You have powers--individually,
collectively, and as the Unit--about which I know little or nothing.
_Use them!_"