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"It must be this way. In the first stage of training the Lens is a necessity;
just as is the crystal ball or some other hypnotic object in a seance. In the
more advanced stage the mind is able to work without aid. The Lens, however,
may beûin fact, it must beûendowed with uses other than that of a symbol of
identification; uses about which I as yet know nothing. Therefore, while I can
work without it, I should not do so except when it is absolutely necessary, as
its help will be imperative if I am to advance to any higher stage. It is also
clear that you were expecting my call. May I ask if I am on time?"
"You areûyour progress has been highly satisfactory. Also, I note with
approval that you are not asking for help in your admittedly difficult present
problem."
"I know it wouldn't do me any goodûand why." Kinnison grinned wryly. "But
I'll bet that Worsel, when he comes up for his second treatment, will know on
the spot what it has taken me all this time to find out."
"You deduce truly. He did."
"What? He has been back there already? And you told me..."
"What I told you was true and is. His mind is more fully developed and more
responsive than yours; yours is of vastly greater latent capacity, capability,
and force," and the line of communication snapped.
Calling a conveyance, Kinnison was whisked to Base, the spy-ray block full
on all the way. There, in a private room, he put his heavily-insulated Lens
and a full spool of tape into a ray-proof container, sealed it, and called in
the base commander.
"Gerrond, here is a package of vital importance," he informed him. "Among
other things, it contains a record of everything I have done to date. If I
don't come back to claim it myself, please send it to Prime Base for personal
delivery to Port Admiral Haynes. Speed, will be no object, but safety very
decidedly of the essence."
"QXûwe'll send it in by special messenger."
"Thanks a lot. Now I wonder if I could use your visi-phone a minute? I want
to talk to the zoo."
"Certainly."
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"Zoological Gardens?" and the image of an elderly, white-bearded man
appeared upon the plate. "Lensman Kinnison of TellusûUnattached. Have you as
many as three oglons, caged together?"
"Yes. In fact, we have four of them in one cage."
"Better yet. Will you please send them over here to base at once?
Lieutenant-Admiral Gerrond, here, will confirm."
"It is most unusual, sir," the graybeard began, but broke off at a curt word
from Gerrond "Very well, sir," he agreed, and disconnected.
"Oglons?" the surprised commander demanded. "OGLONS!"
For the oglon, or Radeligian cateagle, is one of the fiercest, most
intractable beasts of prey in existence; it assays more concentrated villainy
and more sheerly vicious ferocity to the gram than any other creature known to
science. It is not a bird, but a winged mammal; and is armed not only with the
gripping, tearing talons of the eagle, but also with the heavy, cruel,
needle-sharp fangs of the wildcat. And its mental attitude toward all other
forms of life is anti-social to the nth degree.
"Oglons." Kinnison confirmed, shortly. "I can handle them."
"You can, of course. But..." Gerrond stopped. This Gray Lensman was forever
doing amazing, unprecedented, incomprehensible things. But, so far, he had
produced eminently satisfactory results, and he could not be expected to spend
all his time in explanations.
"But you think I'm screwy, huh?"
"Oh, no, Kinnison, I wouldn't say that. I only... well... after all, there
isn't much real evidence that we didn't mop up one hundred per cent."
"Much? Real evidence? There isn't any," the Tellurian assented, cheerfully
enough. "But you've got the wrong slant entirely on these people. You are
still thinking of them as gangsters, desperadoes, renegade scum of our own
civilization. They're not. They are just as smart as we are; some of them are
smarter. Perhaps I'm taking unnecessary precautions; but, if so, there's no
harm done. On the other hand, there are two things at stake which, to me at
least, are extremely important; this whole job of mine and my life: and
remember thisûthe minute I leave this base both of those things are in your
hands."
To that, of course, there could be no answer.
While the two men had been talking and while the oglons were being brought
out, two trickling streams of men had been passing, one into and one out of
the spy-ray-shielded confines of the base. Some of these men were heavily
bearded, some were shaven clean, but all had two things in common. Each one
was human in type and each one is some respect or other resembled Kimball
Kinnison.
"Now remember, Gerrond," the Gray Lensman said impressively as he was about
to leave, "They're probably right here in Ardith, but they may be anywhere on
the planet. Keep a spy-ray on me wherever I go, and trace theirs if you can.
That will take some doing, as he's bound to be an expert. Keep those oglons at
least a mile-thirty seconds flying time-away from me; get all the Lensmen you
can on the job; keep a cruiser and a speedster hot, but not too close. I may
need any of them, or all, or none of them, I can't tell; but I do know thisûif
I need anything at all, I'll need it fast. Above all, Gerrond, by the Lens you
wear, do nothing whatever, no matter what happens around me or to me, until I
give you the word. QX?"
"QX, Gray Lensman. Clear ether!"
Kinnison took a ground-cab to the mouth of the narrow street upon which was
situated his dock-walloper's mean lodging. This was a desperate, a foolhardy
trick-but in its very boldness, in its insolubly paradoxical aspects, lay its
strength. Probably Boskone could solve its puzzles, but-he hoped-this ape, not
being Boskone, couldn't. And, paying off the cabman, he thrust his hands into
his tattered pockets and, whistling blithely if a bit raucously through his
stained teeth, he strode off down the narrow way as though he did not have a
care in the world. But he was doing the finest job of acting of his short
career; even though, for all he really knew, he might not have any audience at
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all. For inwardly, he was strung to highest tension. His sense of perception,
sharply alert, was covering the full hemisphere around and above him; his mind
was triggered to jerk any muscle of his body into instantaneous action.
* * *
Meanwhile, in a heavily guarded room, there sat a manlike being, humanoid
to eight places. For two hours he had been sitting at his spy-ray plate,
studying with ever-growing uneasiness the human beings so suddenly and so
surprisingly numerously having business at the Patrol's base. For minutes he
had been studying minutely a man in a ground-cab, and his uneasiness reached
panic heights.
"It is the Lensman!" he burst out. "It's got to be, Lens or no Lens. Who
else would have the cold nerve to go back there when he knows he's let the cat
completely out of the bag!"
"Well, get him, then," advised his companion. "All set, ain't you?"
"But it can't be!" the chief went on, reversing himself in mid-flight. "A
Lensman has got to have a Lens, and a Lens can't be invisible! And this fellow
has not now, and never has had, a mind-ray machine. He hasn't got anything!
And besides, the Lensman we're after wouldn't be sticking around-he
disappears."
"Well, drop him and chase somebody else, then," the lieutenant advised,
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