had wanted from the Arisians, and from no single source had the basic idea come. Part
of it had come from his own knowledge of ordinary hypnosis, part from the ability of the
Overlords of Delgon to control from a distance the minds of others, part from Worsel,
who, working through Kinnison’s own mind, had done such surprising things with a
Lens, and a great- part indeed from the Arisians themselves, who had the astounding
ability literally and completely to superimpose their own mentalities upon those of
others, wherever situation. Part by part and bit by bit the Tellurian Lensman had built up
his plan, but he had not had the sheer power of intellect to make it work. Now he had
that, and was ready to go.
Where? His first impulse was to return to Aldebaran I and to invade again the
stronghold of the Wheelmen, who had routed him so ignominiously in his one
encounter with them. Ordinary prudence, however, counseled against that course.
“You’d better lay off them a while, Kim, old boy,” he told himself quite frankly.
“They’ve got a lot of jets and you don’t know how to use this new stuff of yours yet.
Better pick out something easier to take!”
Ever since leaving Arisia he had been subconsciously aware of a difference in
his eyesight. He was seeing things much more clearly than he had ever seen them
before, more sharply and in greater detail. Now this awareness crept into his
consciousness and he glanced toward his tube-lights. They were out-except for the tiny
lamps and bulls-eyes of his instrument board the vessel must be in complete darkness.
He remembered then with a shock that when he entered the speedster he had not
turned on his lights-he could see and had not thought of them at all.
This, then was the first of the surprises the Arisian had promised him. He now
had the sense of perception of the Rigellians. Or was it that of the Wheelmen? Or both?
Or were they the same sense? Intently aware now, he focused his attention upon a
meter before him. First upon its dial, noting that the needle was exactly upon the green
hair-line of normal operation. Then deeper. Instantly the face of the instrument
disappeared-moved behind his point of sight, or so it seemed-so that he could see its
coils, pivots, and other interior parts. He could look into and study the grain and particle-
size of the dense, hard condensite of the board itself. His vision was limited, apparently,
only by his will to see.
“Well-ain’t-that-something?” he demanded of the universe at large, then, as a
thought struck him, “I wonder if they blinded me in the process?”
He switched on his lamps, discovering that his vision was unimpaired and normal
in every respect, and a rigid investigation proved to him conclusively that in addition to
ordinary vision he now had an extra sense-or perhaps two of them-and that he could
change from one to the other, or use them simultaneously, at will! But the very fact of
this discovery gave Kinnison pause.
He hadn’t better go anywhere, or do anything, until he had found out something
about his new equipment. The fact was that he didn’t even know what he had, to say
nothing of knowing how to use it. If he had the sense of a Zabriskan fontema he would
go somewhere where he could do a little experimenting without getting his jets burned
off in case something slipped at a critical moment. Where was the nearest Patrol base?
A big one, fully defended .
Let’s see . . . . . . Radelix would be about the closest Sector Base, he guessed-
he’d find out if he could raid that outfit without getting caught at it.
Off he shot, and in due course a fair, green, Earthlike planet lay beneath his
vessel’s keel. Since it was Earthlike in climate, age, atmosphere, and mass, its people
were of course more or less similar to humanity in general characteristics, both of body
and of mind. If anything, they were even more intelligent than Earthlings, and their
Patrol base was a very strong one indeed. His spy-ray would be useless, since all
Patrol bases were screened thoroughly and continuously-he would see what a sense of
perception would do. From Tregonsee’s explanation, it ought to work at this range.
It did. When Kinnison concentrated his attention upon the base he saw it. He
advanced toward it at the speed of thought and entered it, passing through screens and
metal walls without hindrance and without giving alarm. He saw men at their
accustomed tasks and heard, or rather sensed, their conversation, the everyday chat of
their professions. A thrill shot through him at a dazzling possibility thus revealed.
If he could make one of those fellows down there do something without his
knowing that he was doing it, the problem was solved. That computer, say, make him
uncover that calculator and set up a certain integral on it. It would be easy enough to
get into touch with him and have him do it, but this was something altogether different.
Kinnison got into the computer’s mind easily enough, and willed intensely what
he was to do, but the officer did not do it. He got up, then, staring about him in
bewilderment, sat down again.
“What’s the matter?” asked one of his fellows. “Forget something?”
“Not ,exactly,” the computer still stared. “I was going to set up an integral. I didn’t
want it, either-I could swear that somebody told me to set it up.”
“Nobody did,” grunted the other, “and you’d better start staying home nights-then
maybe you wouldn’t get funny ideas.”
This wasn’t so good, Kinnison reflected. The guy should have done it, and
shouldn’t have remembered a thing about it. Well, he hadn’t really thought he could put
it across at that distance, anyway-he didn’t have the brain of an Arisian. He’d have to
follow his original plan, of close-up work.
Waiting until the base was well into the night side of the planet and making sure
that his flare-baffles were in place, he allowed the speedster to drop downward, landing
at some little distance from the fortress. There he left the ship and made his way toward
his objective in a rapid series of long, inertialess hops. Lower and shorter became the
hops. Then he cut off his power entirely and walked until he saw before him, rising from
the ground and stretching interminably upward, an almost invisibly shimmering web of
force. This, the prowler knew, was the curtain which marked the border of the
Reservation, the trigger upon which a touch, either of solid object or of beam, would
initiate a succession of events which he was in no position to stop.
To the eye that base was not impressive, being merely a few square miles of
level ground, outlined with low, broad pill-boxes and studded here and there with
harmless-looking, bulging domes. There were a few clusters of buildings. That was all-
to the eye-but Kinnison was not deceived. He knew that the base itself was a thousand
feet underground, that the pill-boxes housed lookouts and detectors, and that those
domes were simply weathershields which, rolled back, would expose projectors second
in power not even to those of Prime Base itself.
Far to the right, between two tall pylons of metal, was a gate, the nearest
opening in the web. Kinnison had avoided it purposely, it was no part of his plan to
subject himself yet to the scrutiny of the all-inclusive photocells of that entrance.
Instead, with his new sense of perception, he sought out the conduits leading to those
cells and traced them down, through concrete and steel and masonry, to the control
room far below. He then superimposed his mind upon that of the man at the board and
flew boldly toward the entrance. He now actually had a dual personality, since one part
of his mind was in his body, darting through the the air toward the portal, while the other
part was deep in the base below, watching him come and acknowledging his signals.
A trap lifted, revealing a sloping, tunneled ramp, down which the Lensman shot.
He soon found a convenient storeroom, and, slipping within it, he withdrew his control
carefully from the mind of the observer, wiping out all traces of that control as he did so.
He then watched apprehensively for a possible reaction. He was almost sure that he
had performed the operation correctly, but he had to be absolutely certain, more than
his life depended upon the outcome of this test. The observer, however, remained calm
and placid at his post, and a close reading of his thoughts showed that he had not the
faintest suspicion that anything out of the ordinary had occurred.
One more test and he was through. He must find out how many minds he could
control simultaneously, but he’d better do that openly. No use making a man feel like a