chance as much as possible of the time, leaking slightly a certain signal now and then.
Even under this microscopic re-examination, he knew nothing whatever of
Kandron; nothing of Onlo or of Thrale; nothing of any Boskonian organization, activity,
or thing; and Nadreck, although baffled still, remained undisturbed. This trap, he
thought, could almost certainly be used against the trapper. Until a certain call came
through his relay in the base, he would investigate the planets of this system.
During the investigation a thought impinged upon his Lens from Karen Kinnison,
one of the very few warm-blooded beings for whom he had any real liking or respect.
“Busy, Nadreck?” she asked, as casually as though she had just left him.
“In large, yes. In detail and at the moment, no. Is there any small problem in
which I can be of assistance?”
“Not small—big. I just got the funniest distress call I ever heard or heard of. On a
high band—way, “way up— there. Do you know of any race that thinks on that band?”
“I do not believe so.” He thought for a moment. “Definitely, no.”
“Neither do I. It wasn’t broadcast, either, but was directed at any member of a
special race or tribe—very special. Classification, straight Z’s to ten or twelve places,
she— or it—seemed to be trying to specify.”
“A frigid race of extreme type, adapted to an environment having a temperature
of approximately one degree absolute.”
“Yes. Like you, only more so.” Kay paused, trying to put into intelligible thought a
picture inherently incapable of reception or recognition by her as yet strictly three-
dimensional intelligence. “Something like the Eich, too, but not much. Their visible
aspect was obscure, fluid . . . amorphous . . . Indefinite? . . . skip it—I couldn’t really
perceive it, let alone describe it I wish you had caught that thought.”
“I wish so, too—it is very interesting. But tell me— if the thought was directed, not
broadcast, how could you have received it?”
“That’s the funniest part of the whole thing.” Nadreck could feel the girl frown in
concentration. “It came at me from all sides at once—never felt anything like it. Naturally
I started feeling around for the source—particularly since it was a distress signal—but
before I could get-even a general direction of the origin it . . . it . . . well, it didn’t really
disappear or really weaken, but something happened to it. I couldn’t read it any
more—and that really did throw me for a loss.” She paused, then went on. “It didn’t so
much go away as go down, some way or other. Then it vanished completely, without
really going anywhere. I’m not making myself clear—I simply can’t—but have I given
you enough leads so that you can make any sense at all out of any part of it?”
“I’m very sorry to say that I can not.”
Nor could he, ever, for excellent reasons. That girl had a mind whose power,
scope, depth, and range she herself did not, could not even dimly understand; a mind to
be fully comprehended only by an adult of her own third level. That mind had in fact
received in toto a purely fourth-dimensional thought. If Nadreck had received it, he
would have understood it and recognized it for what it was only because of his
advanced Arisian training—no other Palainian could have done so—and it would have
been sheerly unthinkable to him that any warm-blooded and therefore strictly three-
dimensional entity could by any possibility receive such a thought; or, having received it,
could understand any part of it. Nevertheless, if he had really concentrated the full
powers of his mind upon the girl’s attempted description, he might very well have
recognized in it the clearest possible three-dimensional delineation of such a thought;
and from that point he could have gone on to a full understanding of the Children of the
Lens.
However, he did not so concentrate. It was constitutionally impossible for him to
devote real mental effort to any matter not immediately pertaining to the particular task
in hand. Therefore neither he nor Karen Kinnison were to know until much later that she
had been en rapport with one of Civilization’s bitterest, most implacable foes; that she
had seen with clairvoyant and telepathic accuracy the intrinsically three-dimensionally-
indescribable form assumed in their winter by the horrid, the monstrous inhabitants of
that viciously hostile world, the unspeakable planet Floor!
“I was afraid you couldn’t.” Kay’s thought came clear. “That makes it all the more
important—important enough for you to drop whatever you’re doing and join me in
getting to the bottom of it, if you could be made to see it, which of course you can’t.”
“I am about to take Kandron, and nothing in the Universe can be as important as
that,” Nadreck stated quietly, as a simple matter of fact. “You have observed this that
lies here?”
“Yes.” Karen, en rapport with Nadreck, was of course cognizant of the captive,
but it had not occurred to her to mention this monster. When dealing with Nadreck she,
against all the tenets of her sex, exhibited as little curiosity as did the coldly emotionless
Lensman himself. “Since you bid so obviously for the question, why are you keeping it
alive— or rather, not dead?”
“Because he is my sure link to Kandron.” If Nadreck of Palain ever was known to
gloat, it was then. “He is Kandron’s creature, placed by Kandron personally as an
agency of my destruction. Kandron’s brain alone holds the key compulsion which will
restore his memories. At some future time— perhaps a second from now, perhaps a
cycle of years— Kandron will use that key to learn how his minion fares.* Kandron’s
thought will energize my re-transmitter in the dome; the compulsion will be forwarded to
this still-living brain. The brain, however, will be in my speedster, not in that undamaged
fortress. You now understand why I cannot stray far from this being’s base; you should
see that you should join me instead of me joining you.”
“No; not definite enough,” Karen countered decisively, “I can’t see myself passing
up a thing like this for the opportunity of spending the next ten years .floating around in
an orbit, doing nothing. However, I check you to a certain extent—when and if anything
really happens, shoot me a thought and I’ll rally “round.”
The linkage broke without formal adieus. Nadreck went his way. Karen went
hers. She did not, however, go far along the way she had had in mind. She was still
precisely nowhere in her quest when she felt a thought, of a type that only her brother or
an Arisian could send. It was Kit.
“Hi, Kay!” A warm, brotherly contact. “How’r’ya doing, sis—are you growing up?”
“Of course I’m grown up! What a question!”
“Don’t get stiff, Kay, there’s method in this. Got to be sure.” All trace of levity
gone, he probed her unmercifully. “Not too bad, at that, for a kid. As dad would express
it, if he could feel you this way, you’re twenty-nine numbers Brinnell harder than a
diamond drill. Plenty of jets for this job, and by the time the real one comes, you’ll
probably be ready.”
“Cut the rigmarole, Kit!” she” snapped, and hurled a vicious bolt of her own. If Kit
did not counter it as easily as he had handled her earlier efforts, he did not reveal the
fact. “What job? What d’you think you’re talking about? I’m on a job now that I wouldn’t
drop for Nadreck, and I don’t think I’ll drop it for you.”
“You’ll have to.” Kit’s thought was grim. “Mother is going to have to go to work on
Lyrane II. The probability is pretty bad that there is or will be something there that she
can’t handle. Remote control is out, or I’d do it myself, but I can’t work on Lyrane II in
person. Here’s the whole picture—look it over. You can see, sis, that you’re elected, so
hop to it.”
“I won’t!” she stormed. “I can’t—I’m too busy. How about asking Con, or Kat, or
Cam?”
“They don’t fit the picture,” he explained patiently—for him. “In this case hardness
is indicated, as you can see for yourself.”
“Hardness, phooey!” she jeered. “To handle Ladora of Lyrane? She thinks she’s
a hard-boiled egg, I know, but . . .”
“Listen, you bird-brained knot-head!” Kit cut in, venomously. “You’re fogging the
issue deliberately—stop it! I spread you the whole picture—you know as well as I do
that while there’s nothing definite as yet, the thing needs covering and you’re the one to
cover it. But no—just because I’m the one to suggest to or ask anything of you, you’ve
always got to go into that damned mulish act of yours . . .”
“Be silent, children, and attend!” Both flushed violently as Mentor came between
them. “Some of the weaker thinkers here are beginning to despair of you, but my