was expected.”
“Huh? How could that be? I didn’t decide definitely, myself, until only a couple of
weeks ago.”
“It was inevitable. When we fitted your Lens we knew that you would return if you
lived. As we recently informed that one known as Helmuth . . . . .”
“Helmuth! You know, then, where . . .” Kinnison choked himself off. He would not
ask for help in that-he would fight his own battles and bury his own dead. If they
volunteered the information, well and good, but he would not ask it. Nor did the Arisian
furnish it.
“You are right,” the sage remarked, imperturbably. “For proper development it is
essential that you secure that information for yourself.” Then he continued his previous
thought.
“As we told Helmuth recently, we have given your civilization an instrumentality-
the Lens-by virtue of which it should be able to make itself secure throughout the
galaxy. Having given it, we could do nothing more of real or permanent benefit until you
Lensmen yourselves began to understand the true relationship between mind and
Lens. That understanding has been inevitable, for long we have known that in time a
certain few of your minds would become strong enough to discover that theretofore
unknown relationship. As soon as any mind made that discovery it would of course
return to Arisia, the source of the Lens, for additional instruction, which, equally of
course, that mind could not have borne previously.
“Decade by decade your minds have become stronger. Finally you came to be
fitted with a Lens. Your mind, while pitifully undeveloped, had a latent capacity and a
power that made your return here certain. There are several others who will, return.
Indeed, it has become a topic of discussion among us as to whether you or one other
would be the first advanced student.”
“Who is that other, if I may ask?”
“Your friend, Worsel the Velantian.”
“He’s got a real mind-‘way, ‘way ahead of mine,” the Lensman stated, as a
matter of self-evident fact.
“In some ways, yes. In other and highly important characteristics, no.”
“Huh?” Kinnison exclaimed. “In what possible way have I got it over him?”
“I am not certain that I can explain it exactly in thoughts which you can
understand. Broadly speaking, his mind is the better trained, the more fully developed.
It is of more grasp and reach, and of vastly greater present power. It is more
controllable, more responsive, more adaptable than is yours-now. But your mind, while
undeveloped, is of considerable greater capacity than his, and of greater and more
varied latent capabilities. Above all, you have a driving force, a will to do, an
undefeatable mental urge that no one of his race will ever be able to develop. Since I
predicted that you would be the first to return, I am naturally gratified that you have
developed in accordance with that prediction.”
“Well, I have been more or less under pressure, and I got quite a few lucky
breaks. But at that, ft seemed to me that I was progressing backward instead of
forward.”
“It is ever thus with the really competent. Prepare yourself !”
He launched a mental bolt, at the impact of which Kinnison’s mind literally turned
inside out in a wildly gyrating spiral vortex of dizzyingly confused images.
“Resists” came the harsh command.
“Resist! How-?” demanded the writhing, sweating Lensman. “You might as well
tell a fly to resist an inert spaceship !”
“Use your will-your force-your adaptability. Shift your mind to meet mine at every
point. Apart from these fundamentals neither I nor anyone else can tell you how, each
mind must find its own medium and develop its own technique. But this is a very mild
treatment indeed, one conditioned to your present strength. I will increase it gradually in
severity, but rest assured that I will at no time raise it to the point of permanent damage.
Constructive exercises will come later, the first step must be to build up your resistance.
Therefore resist!”
The force, .which had not slackened for an instant, waxed slowly to the very
verge of intolerability, and grimly, doggedly, the Lensman fought it. Teeth locked,
muscles straining, fingers digging savagely into the hard leather upholstery of his chair
he fought it, mustering his every ultimate resource to the task . . . . .
Suddenly the torture ceased and the Lensman slumped down, a mental and
physical wreck. He was white, trembling, sweating, shaken to the very core of his being.
He was ashamed of his weakness. He was humiliated and bitterly disappointed at the
showing he had made, but from the Arisian there came a calm, encouraging thought.
“You need not feel ashamed, you should instead feel proud, for you have made
a start which is almost surprising, even to me, your sponsor. This may seem to you like
needless punishment, but it is not. This is the only possible way in which that which you
seek may be found.”
“In that case, go to it,” the Lensman declared. “I can take it.”
The “advanced instruction” went on, with the pupil becoming ever stronger, until
he was taking without damage thrusts that would at first have slain him instantly. The
bouts became shorter and shorter, requiring as they did such terrific outpourings of
mental force that no human mind could stand the awful strain for more than half an
hour at a time.
And now these savage conflicts of wills and minds were interspersed with real
instruction, with lessons neither painful nor unpleasant. In these the aged scientists
probed gently into the youngster’s mind, opening it out and exposing to its owner’s gaze
vast caverns whose very presence he had never even suspected. Some of these
storehouses were already partially or completely filled, needing only arrangement and
connection. Others were nearly empty. These were catalogued and made accessible.
And in all, permeating everything, was the Lens.
“Just like clearing out a clogged-up water system, with the Lens the pump that
couldn’t work!” exclaimed Kinnison one day.
“More like that than you at present realize,” assented the Arisian. “You have
observed, of course, that I have not given you any detailed instructions nor pointed out
any specific abilities of the Lens which you have not known how to use. You will have to
operate the pump yourself, and you have many surprises awaiting you as to what your
Lens will pump, and how. Our sole task is to prepare your mind to work with the Lens,
and that task is not yet done. Let us on with it.”
After what seemed to Kinnison like weeks the time came when he could block
out Mentor’s suggestions completely, nor, now blocked out. should the Arisian be able
to discern that fact. The Lensman gathered all his force together, concentrated it, and
hurled it back at his teacher, and there ensued a struggle none the less Titanic because
of its essential friendliness. The very ether seethed and boiled with the fury of the
mental forces there at grips, but finally the Lensman beat down the other’s screens.
Then, boring deep into his eyes, he willed with all his force to see that Arisian as he
really was. And instantly the scholarly old man subsided into a . . . . a BRAIN I There
were a few appendages, of course, and appurtenances, and incidentalia to
nourishment, locomotion, and the like, but to all intents and purposes the Arisian was
simply and solely a brain.
Tension ended, conflict ceased, and Kinnison apologized.
“Think nothing of it,” and the brain actually smiled into Kinnison s mind. “Any
mind of power sufficient to neutralize the forces which I have employed is of course
able to hurl no feeble bolts of its own. See to it, however, that you thrust no such force
at any lesser mind, or it dies instantly.”
Kinnison started to stammer a reply, but the Arisian went on.
“No, son, I knew and know that the warning is superfluous. If you were not
worthy of this power and were you not able to control it properly you would not have it.
You have obtained that which you sought. Go, then, with power.”
“But this is only one phase, barely a beginning!” protested Kinnison.
“Ah, you realize even that? Truly, youth, you have come far, and fast. But you
are not yet ready for more, and lit is a truism that the reception of forces for which a
mind is not prepared will destroy that mind. Thus, when you came to me you knew
exactly what you wanted. Do you know with equal certainty what more you want from
us?”
“No”
‘Nor will you for years, if ever. Indeed, it may well be — that only your
descendants will be ready for that for which you now so dimly grope. Again I say, young
man, go with power.”
Kinnison went.
CHAPTER 19
Judge, Jury, and Executioner
It had taken the lensman a long time to work out in his mind exactly what it was that he