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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
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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
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 -- æstubbornness', 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
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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
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