for traps; all four had been constantly on guard. What possible foresight could have
avoided a snare set so perfectly to match every detail of a man’s make-up?
But he wasn’t licked yet. They had to know what he knew, how he had done what
he had done, whether or not he had any superiors and who they were. Therefore they
had had to take him alive, just as he had had to take various Boskonian chiefs. And
they’d find out that as long as he was alive he’d be a dangerous buzz-saw to monkey
with.
The captain, or whoever was in charge, would send for him; that was a foregone
conclusion. He’d have to find out what he had caught; he’d have to make a report of
some kind. And somebody would slip. One hundred percent vigilance was impossible,
and Kinnison would be on his toes to take advantage of that slip, however slight it might
be.
But the captors did not take Kinnison to the captain. Instead, accompanied by
half a dozen unarmored men, that worthy came to Kinnison.
“Start talking, fellow, and talk fast,” the Boskonian directed crisply in the lingua
franca of deep space as the armored soldiers strode out. “I want to know who you are,
what you are, what you’ve done, and everything about you and the Patrol. So talk—or
do you want me to pull you apart with these tractors, armor and all?”
Kinnison paid no attention, but drove at the commander with his every mental
force and weapon. Blocked. This ape too had a full-body, full-coverage screen.
There was a switch at the captain’s hip, handy for fingertip control. If he could
only move! It would be so easy to flip that switch! Or if he could throw something—or
make one of those other fellows brush against him just right—or if the guy happened to
sit down a little too close to the arm of a chair—or if there were a pet animal of any kind
around —or a spider or a worm or even a gnat. . .
CHAPTER 6: TREGONSEE, CAMILLA, AND “X”
Second-Stage Lensman Tregonsee of Rigel IV did not rush madly out into space
in quest of something or anything Boskonian in response to Kinnison’s call. To hurry
was not Tregonsee’s way. He could move fast upon occasion, but before he would
move at all he had to know exactly how, where, and why he should move.
He conferred with his three fellows, he furnished them with all the data he
possessed, he helped integrate the totaled facts into one composite. That composite
pleased the others well enough so that they went to work, each in his own fashion, but it
did not please Tregonsee. He could not visualize any coherent whole from the available
parts. Therefore, while Kinnison was investigating the fall of Antigan IV, Tregonsee was
sitting—or rather, standing—still and thinking. He was still standing still and thinking
when Kinnison went to Radelix.
Finally he called in an assistant to help him think. He had more respect for the
opinions of Camilla Kinnison than for those of any other entity, outside of Arisia, of the
two galaxies. He had helped train all five of the Kinnison children, and in Cam he had
found a kindred soul. Possessing a truer sense of values than any of his fellows, he
alone realized that the pupils had long since passed their tutors; and it is a measure of
his quality that the realization brought into Tregonsee’s tranquil soul no tinge of rancor,
but only wonder. What those incredible Children of the Lens had he did not know, but
he knew that they—particularly Camilla —had extraordinary gifts.
In the mind of this scarcely grown woman he perceived depths which he could
not plumb, extensions and vistas the meanings of which he could not even vaguely
grasp. He did not try either to plumb the abysses or to survey the expanses; he made
no slightest effort, ever, to take from any of the children anything which the child did not
first offer to reveal. In his own mind he tried to classify theirs; but, realizing in the end
that that task was and always would be beyond his power, he accepted the fact as
calmly as he accepted the numberless others of Nature’s inexplicable facts. Tregonsee
came the closest of any Second-Stage Lensman to the real truth, but even he never did
suspect the existence of the Eddorians.
Camilla, as quiet as her twin sister Constance was boisterous, parked her
speedster in one of the capacious holds of the Rigellian’s space-ship and joined him in
the control room.
“You believe, I take it, that dad’s logic is faulty, his deductions erroneous?” the
girl thought; after a casual greeting. “I’m not surprised. So do I. He jumped at
conclusions. But then, he does that, you know.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, exactly. However, it seems to me,” Tregonsee replied
carefully, “that he did not have sufficient basis in fact to form any definite conclusion as
to whether or not Renwood of Antigan was a Boskonian operative. It is that point which I
wish to discuss with you first.”
Cam concentrated. “I don’t see that it makes any difference, fundamentally,
whether he was or not,” she decided, finally. “A difference in method only, not in
motivation. Interesting, perhaps, but immaterial. It is virtually certain in either case that
Kandron of Onlo or some other entity is the prime force and is the one who must be
destroyed.”
“Of course, my dear, but that is only the first differential. How about the second,
and the third? Method governs. Nadreck, concerning himself only with Kandron,
tabulated and studied only the Kandronesque manifestations. He may— probably
will—eliminate Kandron. It is by no means assured, however, that that step will be
enough. In fact, from my preliminary study, I would risk a small wager that the larger –
and worse aspects would remain untouched. I would therefore suggest that we ignore,
for the time being, Nadreck’s findings and examine anew all the data available.”
“I wouldn’t bet you a millo on that.” Camilla caught her lower lip between white,
even teeth. “Check. The probability is that Renwood was a loyal citizen. Let us consider
every possible argument for and against that assumption . . .”
They went into contact of minds so close that the separate thoughts simply could
not be resolved into terms of speech. They remained that way, not for the period of a
few minutes which would have exhausted any ordinary brain, but for four solid hours;
and at the end of that conference they had arrived at a few tentative conclusions.
Kinnison had said that there was no possibility of tracing a hyper-spatial tube
after it had ceased to exist. There were millions of planets in the two galaxies. There
was an indefinite, quite possibly an infinite number of co-existent parallel spaces, into
any one of which the tube might have led. Knowing these things, Kinnison had decided
that the probability was infinitesimally small that any successful investigation could be
made along those lines.
Tregonsee and Camilla, starting with the same facts, arrived at entirely different
results. There were many spaces, true, but the inhabitants of any one space belonged
to that space and would not be interested in the conquest or the permanent taking over
of any other. Foreign spaces, then, need not be considered. Civilization had only one
significant enemy; Boskonia. Boskonia, then, captained possibly by Kandron of Onlo,
was the attacker. The tube itself could not be traced and there were millions of planets,
yes, but those facts were not pertinent.
Why not? Because “X”, who might or might not be Kandron, was not operating
from a fixed headquarters, receiving reports from subordinates who did the work. A rigid
philosophical analysis, of which few other minds would have been capable, showed that
“X” was doing the work himself, and was moving from solar system to solar system to
do it. Those mass psychoses in which entire garrisons went mad all at once, those
mass hysterias in which vast groups of • civilians went reasonlessly out of control,-
could not have been brought about by an ordinary mind. Of all Civilization, only Nadreck
of Palain VII had the requisite ability; was it reasonable to suppose that Boskonia had
many such minds? No. “X” was either singular or a small integer.
Which? Could they decide the point? With some additional data, they could.
Their linked minds went en rapport with Worsel, with Nadreck, with Kinnison, and with
the Principal Statistician at Prime Base.
In addition to Nadreck’s locus, they determined two more—one of all inimical
manifestations, the other of those which Nadreck had not used in his computations.
Their final exhaustive analysis showed that there were at least two, and very probably
only two, prime intelligences directing those Boskonian activities. They made no attempt
to identify either of them. They communicated to Nadreck their results and their