Children of the lens by E.E Doc Smith

the Lens broke their linkage and stared at each other, aghast.

They knew starkly what it must mean, but that conclusion was unthinkable.

Kinnison—their dad—the hub of the universe—the unshakable, immutable Rock of

Civilization—he couldn’t be dead. They simply could not accept the logical explanation

as the true one.

And while they pondered, shaken, a call from their Red Lensman mother came

in.

“You are together? Good! I’ve been so worried about Kim going into that trap. I’ve

been trying to get in touch with him, but I can’t reach him. You children, with your

greater power . . .”

She broke off as the dread import of the Five’s surface thoughts became clear to

her. At first she, too, was shaken, but she rallied magnificently.

“Nonsense!” she snapped; not in denial of an unwelcome fact, but in sure

knowledge that the supposition was not and could not be a fact. “Kimball Kinnison is

alive. He’s lost, I know—I last heard from him just before he went into that tube—but he

did not die! If he had, I would most certainly have felt it. So don’t be idiots, children,

please. Think—really think! I’m going to do something—somehow—but what? _

Mentor? I’ve never called him and I’m terribly afraid he might not do anything. I could go

there and make him do something, but that would take so long—what shall I do? What

can I do?”

“Mentor, by all means,” Kit decided. “He’ll do something —he’ll have to. However,

there’s no need of you going to Arisia in person.” Now that the Eddorians had ceased to

exist, inter-galactic space presented no barrier to Arisian thought, but Kit did not go into

that. “Link your mind with ours.” She did so.

“Mentor of Arisia!” the clear-cut thought flashed out. “Kimball Kinnison of Klovia is

not present in this, his normal space and time; nor in any other continuum we can

reach. We need help.”

“Ah; ’tis Lensman Clarrissa and the Five.” Imperturbably, Mentor’s mind joined

theirs on the instant. “I have ‘given the matter no attention, nor have I scanned my

visualization of the Cosmic All. It may therefore be that Kimball Kinnison has passed on

from his plane of exist . . .”

“He has NOT! It is stark idiocy even to consider such a possibility!” the Red

Lensman interrupted violently, so violently that her thought had the impact of a physical

blow. Mentor and the Five alike could see her eyes flash and sparkle; could hear her

voice crackle as she spoke aloud, the better to drive home her passionate conviction.

“Kim is ALIVE! I told the children so and now I tell you so. No matter where or when he

might be, in whatever possible extra-dimensional nook or cranny of the entire macro-

cosmic universe or in any possible period of time between plus and minus eternity, he

couldn’t die—he could not possibly die— without my knowing it. So find him,

please—please find him, Mentor—or, if you can’t or won’t, just give me the littlest, tiniest

hint as to how to go about it and I’ll find him myself!”

The Five were appalled. Especially Kit, who knew, as the others did not, just how

much afraid of Mentor his mother had always been. To direct such thoughts to any

Arisian was unthinkable; but Mentor’s only reaction was one of pleased interest.

“There is much of truth, daughter, in your thought,” he replied, slowly. “Human

love, in its highest manifestation, can be a mighty, a really tremendous thing. The force,

the power, the capability of such a love as yours is a sector of the truth which has not

been fully examined. Allow me, please, a moment in which to consider the various

aspects of this matter.”

It took more than a moment. It took more than the twenty-nine seconds which the

Arisian had needed to solve an earlier and supposedly similar Kinnison problem. In fact,

a full half hour elapsed before Mentor resumed communication; and then he did so, not

to the group as a whole, but only to the Five; using an ultra-frequency to which the Red

Lensman’s mind could not be attuned.

“I have not been able to reach him. Since you could not do so I knew that the

problem would not be simple, but I have found that it is difficult indeed. As I have

intimated previously, my visualization is not entirely clear upon any matter touching the

Eddorians directly, since their minds were of great power. On the other hand, their

visualizations of us were probably even more hazy. Therefore none of our analyses of

each other were or could be much better than approximations.

“It is certain, however, that you were correct in assuming that it was the Ploorans

who set up the hyper-spatial tube as a trap for your father. The fact that the lower and

middle operating echelons of Boskonia could not kill him established in the Ploorans’

minds the necessity of taking him alive. That fact gave us no concern, for you, Kathryn,

were on guard. Moreover, even if she alone should slip, it was manifestly impossible for

them to accomplish anything against the combined powers of you Five. However, at

some undetermined point in time the Eddorians took over, as is shown by the fact that

you are all at a loss: it being scarcely necessary to point out to you that the Ploorans

could neither transport your father to any location which you could not reach nor pose

any problem, including his death, which you could not solve. It is thus certain that it was

one or more of the Eddorians who either killed Kinnison or sent him where he was sent.

It is also certain that, after the easy fashion in which he escaped from the Ploorans after

they had captured him and had him all but in their hands, the Eddorians did not care to

have the Ploorans come to grips with Kimball Kinnison; fearing, and rightly, that instead

of gaining information, they would lose everything.”

“Did they know I was in that tube?” Kathryn asked. “Did they deduce us, or did

they think that dad was a superman?”

‘That is one of the many points which are obscure. But it made no difference,

before or after the event, to them or to us, as you should perceive.”

“Of course. They knew that there was at least one third-level mind at work in the

field. They must have deduced that it was Arisian work. Whether it was dad himself or

whether it was coming to his aid at need would make no difference. They knew very

well that he was the keystone of Civilization, and that to do away with him would be the

shrewdest move they could make. Therefore we still do not understand why they didn’t

kill him outright and be done with it—if they didn’t.”

“In exactness, neither do I . . . that point is the least clear of all. Nor is it at all

certain that he still lives. It is sheerest folly to assume that the Eddorians either thought

or acted illogically, even occasionally. Therefore, if Kinnison is not dead, whatever was

done was calculated to be even more final than death itself. This premise, if adopted,

forces the conclusion that they considered the possibility of our knowing enough about

the next cycle of existence to be able to reach him there.”

Kit frowned. “You still harp on the possibility of his death. Does not your

visualization cover that?”

“Not since the Eddorians took control. I have not consciously emphasized the

probability of your father’s death; I have merely considered it—in the case of two

mutually exclusive events, neither of which can be shown to have happened, both must

be studied with care. Assume for the moment that your mother’s theory is the truth, that

your father is still alive. In that case, what was done and how it was done are eminently

clear.”

“Clear? Not to us!” the Five chorused.

“While they did not know at all exactly the power of our minds, they could

establish limits beyond which neither they nor we could go. Being mechanically inclined,

it is reasonable to assume that they had at their disposal sufficient energy to transport

Kinnison to some point well beyond those limits. They would have given control to a

director-by-chance, so that his ultimate destination would be unknown and unknowable.

He would of course land safely . . .”

“How? How could they, possibly . . .?”

“In time that knowledge will be yours. Not now. Whether or not the hypothesis

just stated is true, the fact confronting us is that Kimball Kinnison is not now in any

region which I am at present able to scan.”

Gloom descended palpably upon the Five.

“I am not saying or implying that the problem is insoluble. Since Eddorian minds

were involved, however, you already realize that its solution will require the evaluation of

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