Children of the lens by E.E Doc Smith

he looked much older and more mature than before; he felt immensely older than he

looked. The concluding conversation of that visit, however, is worth recording.

“You now know, Christopher,” Mentor mused, “What you children are and how

you came to be. You are the accomplishment of long lifetimes of work. It is with

profound satisfaction that I now perceive clearly that those lifetimes have not been

spent in vain.”

“Yours, you mean.” Kit was embarrassed, but one point still bothered him. “Dad

met and married mother, yes, but how about the others? Tregonsee, Worsel, and

Nadreck? They and the corresponding females—-don’t take that literally for Nadreck, of

course—were also penultimates, of lines as long as ours. You Arisians decided that the

human stock was best, so none of the other Second-Stage Lensmen ever met their

complements. Not that it could make any difference to them, of course, but I should

think that three of your fellow students wouldn’t feel so good.”

“Ah, youth, I am very glad indeed that you mention the point.” The Arisian’s

thought was positively gleeful. “You have at no time, then, detected anything peculiar

about this that you know as Mentor of Arisia?”

“Why, of course not. How could I? Or, rather, why should I?”

“Any lapse on our part, however slight, from practically perfect synchronization

would have revealed to such a mentality as yours that I whom you know as Mentor am

not an individual, but four. While we each worked as individuals upon all of the

experimental lines, whenever we dealt with any one of the penultimates or ultimates we

did so as a fusion. This was necessary, not only for your fullest possible development,

but also to be sure that each of us had complete data upon every minute facet of the

truth. While it was in no sense important to the work itself to keep you in ignorance of

Mentor’s plurality, the fact that we could keep you ignorant of it, particularly now that you

have become adult, showed that our work was being done in a really workman-like

fashion.”

Kit whistled; a long, low whistle which was tribute enough to those who knew

what it meant. He knew what he meant, but there were not enough words or thoughts to

express it.

“But you’re going to keep on being Mentor, aren’t you?” ,’ he asked.

“I am. The real task, as you know, lies ahead.”

“QX. You say I’m adult. I’m not. You imply that I’m more than several notches

above you in qualifications. I could laugh myself silly about that one, if it wasn’t so

serious. Why, any one of you Arisians has forgotten more than I know, and could tie me

up into bow-knots!”

“There are elements of truth in your thought. That you can now be called adult,

however, does not mean that you have attained your full power; only that you are able

to use effectively the powers you have and are able to acquire other and larger powers.”

“But what are those powers?” Kit demanded. “You’ve hinted on that same theme

a thousand times, and I don’t know what you mean any better than I did before!”

“You must develop your own powers.” Mentor’s thought was as final as Fate.

“Your mind is potentially far abler than mine. You will in time come to know my mind in

full; I never will be able to know yours. For the lesser, but full mind to attempt to instruct

in methodology the greater, although emptier one, is to set that greater mind in an

undersized mold and thus to do it irreparable harm. You have the abilities and the

powers. You will have to develop them yourself, by the perfection of techniques

concerning which I can give you no instructions whatever.”

“But surely you can give me some kind of a hint!” Kit pleaded. “I’m just a kid, I tell

you—I don’t even know how or where to begin!”

Under Kit’s startled mental gaze, Mentor split suddenly into four parts, laced

together by a pattern of thoughts so intricate and so rapid as to be unrecognizable. The

parts fused and again Mentor spoke.

“I can point the way in only the broadest, most general terms. It has been

decided, however, that I can give you one hint—or, more properly, one illustration. The

surest test of knowledge known to us is the visualization of the Cosmic All. All science

is, as you know, one. The true key to power lies in the knowledge of the underlying

reasons for the succession of events. If it is pure causation—that is, if any given state of

things follows as an inevitable consequence because of the state existing an

infinitesimal instant before— then the entire course of the macro-cosmic universe was

set for the duration of all eternity in the instant of its coming into being. This well-known

concept, the stumbling-block upon which many early thinkers came to grief, we now

know to be false. On the other hand, if pure randomness were to govern, natural laws

as we know them could not exist. Thus neither pure causation nor pure randomness

alone can govern the succession of events.

“The truth, then, must lie somewhere in between. In the macro-cosmos,

causation prevails; in the micro-, randomness; both in accord with the mathematical

laws of probability. It is in the region between them—the intermediate zone, or the

interface, so to speak—that the greatest problems lie. The test of validity of any theory,

as you know, is the accuracy of the predictions which are made possible by its use, and

our greatest thinkers have shown that the completeness and fidelity of any visualization

of the Cosmic All are linear functions of the clarity of definition of the components of that

interface. . Full knowledge of that indeterminate zone would mean infinite power and a

statistically perfect visualization. None of these things, however, will ever be realized;

for the acquirement of that full knowledge would require infinite time.

“That is all I can tell you. It will, properly studied, be enough. I have built within

you a solid foundation; yours alone is the task of erecting upon that foundation a

structure strong enough to withstand the forces which will be thrown against it.

“It is perhaps natural, in view of what you have recently gone through, that you

should regard the problem of the Eddorians as one of insuperable difficulty. Actually,

however, it is not, as you will perceive when you have spent a few weeks in re-

integrating yourself. You must not, you shall not, and in my clear visualization you do

not, fail.”

Communication ceased. Kit made his way groggily to his control board, went

free, and lined out for Klovia. For a guy whose education was supposed to be complete,

he felt remarkably like a total loss with no insurance. He had asked for advice and had

got—what? A dissertation on philosophy, mathematics, and physics—good enough

stuff, probably, if he could see what Mentor was driving at, but not of much immediate

use. He did have a brainful of new stuff, though— didn’t know yet what half of it

was—he’d better be getting it licked into shape. He’d “sleep” on it.

He did so, and as he lay quiescent in his bunk the tiny pieces of an incredibly

complex jig-saw puzzle began to click into place. The ordinary zwilniks—all the small fry

fitted in well enough. The Overlords of Delgon. The Kalonians . . . hm . . . he’d better

check with dad on that angle. The Eich—under control. Kandron of Onlo, ditto. “X” was

in safe hands; Cam had already been alerted to watch her step. Some planet named

Floor—what in all the purple hells of Palain had Mentor meant by that crack? Anyway,

that piece didn’t fit anywhere—yet. That left Eddore—and at the thought a series of cold

waves raced up and down the young Lensman’s spine. Nevertheless, Eddore was his

oyster —his, and nobody else’s. Mentor had made that plain enough. Everything the

Arisians had done for umpteen skillions of years had been aimed at the Eddorians.

They had picked him out to emcee the show—and how could a man coordinate an

attack against something he knew nothing about? And the only way to get acquainted

with Eddore and its denizens was to go there. Should he call in the kids? He should not.

Each of them had her hands full of her own job; that of developing her own full self. He

had his; and the more he studied the question, the clearer it became that the first

number on the program of his self-development was—would have to be—a single-

handed expedition against the key planet of Civilization’s top-ranking foes.

He sprang out of his bunk, changed his vessel’s course, and lined out a thought

to his father.

“Dad? Kit. Been flitting around out Arisia way, and picked up an idea I want to

pass along to you. It’s about Kalonians. What do you know about them?”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *