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 coordinator 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 coordinator.
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 mid-summer 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 ‘fourcycle 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, RTSL and so on. 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 a few
other things, 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 it was planted, either, so there . . .”
“Let me in a second!” Kit demanded. “I didn’t know 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 on temperature. No
change takes place as long as the temperature stays constant. Your TUUV could have
been flitting around in a space-ship at constant temperature. Could this apply here,
Cam, do you think?”
“Could it?” Kinnison exclaimed. “That’s it, Cris, for all the tea in China!”
“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 any precisely-known coordinates; 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 similar 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 thing 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 he wasn’t lying to you?
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 . . . urn . . . 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 coordinator, 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—and fast. 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 coordinates 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?—Floor . . .”