Lensman 03 – Galactic patrol – E.E. Doc Smith

fool needlessly-he’d done that once already, and once was one time too many.

Therefore, reversing the procedure by which he had come, he went back to his

speedster, took her out into the ether, and slept. Then, when the light of morning

flooded the base, he cut his detector nullifier and approached it boldly.

“Radelix base! Lensman Kinnison of Tellus, Unattached, asking permission to land. I

wish to confer with your commanding officer, Lensman Gerrond.”

A spy-ray swept through the speedster, the web disappeared, and Kinnison

landed, to be greeted with a quiet and cordial respect. The base-commander knew that

his visitor was not there purely for pleasure-Gray Lensmen did not take pleasure jaunts.

Therefore he led the way into his private office and shielded it.

“My announcement was not at all informative,” Kinnison admitted then, “but my

errand is nothing to be advertised. I’ve got to try out something, and I want to ask you

and three of your best and — ‘stubbornness’, if I may use the term-officers to cooperate

with me for a few minutes. QX?”

“Of course.”

Three officers were called in and Kinnison explained. “I’ve been working for a

long time on a mind-controller, and I want to see if it works. I’ll put your books on this

table, one in front of each of you. Now I would like to try to make two or three of you-all

four of you if I can-each bend over, pick up his book, and hold it. Your part of the game

will be for each of you to try not to pick it up, and to put it back as soon as you possibly

can if I do make you obey. Will you?”

“Sure!” three of them chorused, and “There will be no mental damage, of

course?” asked the commander.

“None whatever, and no after-effects. I’ve had it worked on myself, a lot.”

“Do you want any apparatus?”

“No, I have everything necessary. Remember, I want top resistance.”

“Let her come! You’ll get plenty of resistance. If you can make any one of us pick

up a book, after all this warning, I’ll say you’ve got something.”

Officer after officer, in spite of strainingly resisting mind and body, lifted his book

from the table, only to drop it again as Kinnison’s control relaxed for an instant. He

could control two of them-any two of them-but he could not quite handle three.

Satisfied, he ceased his efforts, and, as the base commander poured long, cold drinks

for the sweating five, one of his fellows asked.

“What did you do, anyway, Kinnison-oh, pardon me, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Sorry,” the Tellurian replied uncomfortably, “but it isn’t ready yet. You’ll all know

about it as soon as possible, but not just now.”

“Sure,” the Radeligian replied. “I knew I shouldn’t have blasted off as soon as I

spoke.”

“Well, thanks a lot, fellows.” Kinnison set his empty glass down with a click. “I

can make a nice progress report on this do-jig now. And one more thing. I did a little

long range experimenting on one of your computers last night.

“Desk Twelve? The one who thought he wanted to integrate something?”

“That’s the one. Tell him I was using him for a mind-ray subject, will you, and

give him this fifty-credit bill? Don’t want the boys needling him too much.”

“Yes, and thanks . . . . . and . . . . . I wonder . . . . . the Radeligian Lensman had

something on his mind. “Well . . . . can you make a man tell the truth with that? And if

you can, will you?”

“I think so. Certainly I will, if I can. Why?” Kinnison knew that he could, but did

not wish to seem cocksure.

“There’s been a murder.” The other three glanced at each other in understanding

and sighed with profound relief. “A particularly fiendish murder of a woman-a girl,

rather. Two men stand accused. Each has a perfect alibi, supported by honest

witnesses, but you know how much an alibi means now. Both men tell perfectly straight

stories, even under a lie-detector, but neither will let me-or any other Lensman so far-

touch his mind.” Gerrond paused.

“Uh-huh,” Kinnison understood. “Lots of innocent people simply can’t stand

Lensing and have mighty strong blocks.”

“Glad you’ve seen such. One of those men is lying with a polish I wouldn’t have

believed possible, or else both are innocent. And one of them must be guilty, they are

the only suspects. If we try them now. we make fools of ourselves, and we can’t put the

trial off very much longer without losing face. If you can help us out you’ll be doing a lot

for the Patrol, throughout this whole sector.”

“I can help you,” Kinnison declared. “For this, though, better have some props.

Make me a box-double Burbank controls, with five baby spots on it-orange, blue, green,

purple, and red. The biggest set of headphones you’ve got, and a thick, black blindfold.

How soon can you try ’em?”

“The sooner the better. It can be arranged for this afternoon.”

The trial was announced, and long before the appointed hour the great court-

room of that world’s largest city was thronged. The hour struck. Quiet reigned. Kinnison,

in his somber gray, strode to the judge’s desk and sat down behind the peculiar box

upon it. In dead silence two Patrol officers approached. The first invested him reverently

with the headphones, the second so enwrapped his head in black cloth that it was

apparent to all observers that his vision was completely obscured.

“Although from a world far distant in space, I have been asked to try two

suspects for the crime- of murder,”‘ Kinnison son intoned. “I do not know the details of

the crime nor the identity of the suspects. I do know that they and their witnesses are

within these railings. I shall now select those who are about to be examined.”

Piercing beams of intense, vari-colored light played over the two groups, and the

deep, impressive voice went on.

“I know now who the suspects are. They are about to rise, to walk, and to seat

themselves as I shall direct.”

They did so, it being plainly evident to all observers that they were under some

awful compulsion.

“The witnesses may be excused. Truth is the only thing of importance here, and

witnesses, being human and therefore frail, obstruct truth more frequently than they

further its progress. I shall now examine these two accused.”

Again the vivid, weirdly distorting glares of light lashed out, bathing in intense

monochrome and in various ghastly combinations first one prisoner, then the other, all

the while Kinnison drove his mind into theirs, plumbing their deepest depths. The

silence, already profound, became the utter stillness of outer space as the throng,

holding its very breath now, sat enthralled by that portentous examination.

“I have examined them fully. You are all aware that any Lensman of the Galactic

Patrol may in case of need serve as judge, jury, and executioner. I am, however, none

of these, nor is this proceeding to be a trial as you may have understood the term. I

have said that witnesses are superfluous. I will now add that neither judge nor jury are

necessary. All that is required is to discover the truth, since truth is all-powerful. For that

same reason no executioner is needed here-the discovered truth will in and of itself

serve us in that capacity.

“One of these men is guilty, the other is innocent. From the mind of the guilty one

I am about to construct a composite, not of this one fiendish crime alone, but of all the

crimes he has ever committed. I shall project that composite into the air before him. No

innocent mind will be able to see any iota of it. The guilty man, however, will perceive its

every revolting detail, and, so perceiving, he will forthwith cease to exist in this plane of

life.”

One of the men had nothing to fear-Kinnison had told him so, long since. The

other had been trembling for minutes in uncontrollable paroxysms of terror. Now this

one leaped from his seat, clawing savagely at his eyes and screaming in mad abandon.

“I did it ! Help ! Mercy ! Take her away ! Oh . . . h . . h!” he shrieked, and died,

horribly, even as he shrieked.

Nor was there noise in the court-room after the thing was over. The stunned

spectators slunk away, scarcely daring even to breathe until they were safely outside.

Nor were the Radeligian officers in much better case. Not a word was said until

the five were back in the base commander’s office. Then Kinnison, still white of face

and set of jaw, spoke. The others knew that he had found the guilty man, and that he

had in some peculiarly terrible fashion executed him. He knew that they knew that the

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