Lensman from rigel, p.13
Lensman From Rigel, page 13
So, it would seem, the enemy ships were scouts which the Patrol had stumbled upon. To attack the Patrol or to defend the scouts, the enemy had arrived in strength. Nearly frightened into retreat, the Patrol, instead, had broken through a lightly armed enemy. Or an inexperienced enemy. Or were allowed to escape.
Nothing sinister about this analysis, except possibly the idea that escape had been permitted.
However, there were other disturbing facts. The enemy had increased in number in a phenomenally short time. Did they have a new propulsion system? Did they have a new cloaking device? Did they have a new, ultra-dimensional commitment to battle? Or was the enemy simply well-organized and capable of instantaneous responses to instantaneous commands? That last possibility, bad though it was, but more reassuring than/the others, was probably the truth.
Why did the Patrol missiles miss their targets? Why did the super ray beams fail? Poor equipment or training of the Patrol? No. New defensive equipment or tactics of the enemy? Probably. Local space-time conditions, naturally or artificially present? Possibly. An illusion, showing no destruction when there was, or enemy ships where there weren't any? Possibly.
At this point, Kinnison said, "I want Thorndyke here with us with data on space-time conditions!" and gave the order. And Worsel said, "I want Lalla Kallatra here with us with her latest research on Delgonian Overlord illusions and the Eichwoor." Whereupon Kinnison flashed a quick question about the current physical status of "that robot-girl Lensman" and received back from Worsel the immediate assurance that she was "progressing excellently, both personally and professionally."
Kinnison revised his order by an immediately Lensed command. "Send for Lensman Lalla Kallatra, too," and repeated Worsel's specific request for her data.
The brainstorming continued.
Why did the enemy's supposedly weak apex of its formation show the greatest power? Why did the Patrol's beams strike defending screens there, but no other place? How could the enemy retreat so quickly off the Patrol's screens? Answers to these questions depended on the answers to the questions asked earlier as to how and why the enemy appeared in the first place.
They had gone through the problem now, but had formed no final conclusion except for a tentative one from Worsel.
"I have an uneasy sense, an intuition," Worsel said, to break the reflective silence, "about an illusion. This may have been a phantom fleet, a spell of the mind. Or it may have been ghosts from another plane of existence. I have that feeling. I know that the instruments registered material things. And some very real exchanges of energy on a massive scale by offensive and defensive armaments were reported. But I still have that feeling. Thorndyke and Kallatra may have some contribution, and they should be here shortly. Meanwhile, before we take up Cloudd's primary mission here, about the datadrones, I suggest we check the progress of the conference of scientists, considering that so far none of us have been able to attend."
Kinnison summoned an aide, who silently placed a memo clipboard with a one-sheet summary on the oversized right arm of his chair, his miniature communications console desk.
Kinnison said, "Great!" and slammed his two hands together with a simultaneous crack! His voice and thought were enthusiastic. "Great news! Listen to this!" A flip of a switch brought a large video screen to life at one end of the room. Sir Austin Cardynge of Tellus, chairman of the conference, appeared, his aged and fragile body magnified far larger than life.
"Mr. Coordinator, Council members, members of the Patrol. We have taken up the second most urgent matter, the Sunbeam weapon. I am happy to report that there is no problem. Since the original concept by Kimball Kinnison and its construction by LaVerne Thorndyke, individual council members continued their research on it. They recognized the probability that Boskone would build and use this terrible weapon.
"As will be recalled, there was a 'winking phenomenon' when the sun's power waxed and waned as the Battle of Tellus began. The wavering was caused by Boskonian defenses, which almost succeeded. They made, however, a fundamental mistake.
"First, for your understanding, let me recapitulate: "The quantity of energy used in the operation of the Sunbeam is unthinkably enormous, concentrating as it does the entire fantastic power of a sun or star by using other solar bodies to form a mammoth vacuum tube in space. And in direct ratio to it is the unthinkably enormous inefficiency of the weapon created. Consider that the process is to draw off from the prime source and focus on a target its total energy. As in the actual case of old Sol, itself--a moderately sized star--the total energy amounts to four and a half million tons of mass converted every second into neutrinos and gamma rays. The wattage of such released energy every second equals the number of kilograms of the mass destroyed multiplied by 90 million billion, the meters-per-second velocity of light multiplied by itself! Although this incredible power is collected into a beam and directed at its target, only a fraction of it drives straight ahead, due to the inconceivable turbulence and back-pressure. Even so, there is nothing to compare to it in effective raw power. Some radiates away, proportionately to the length and thickness of its beam. The power beam which penetrates its own turbulence and strikes a defensive screen is absorbed rapidly up to that screen's capability. The screen dissipates the incoming energy over the screen's total area. For these reasons, the Sunbeam, if defended against properly, is no more dangerous than the concentrated fire power of a large fleet.
"I emphasize that most power is wasted, and that which strikes a screen is absorbed rather than punching through as a coherent beam. Therefore, if defensive screens are expanded into large, if weakly thin, curtains, the sunbeams will themselves be spread out, absorbed, and thus stopped, or at least drastically reduced in efficiency. The titanic magnitude of the Sunbeam's intrinsic energy thus should never be realized.
"So, as can be seen, the Patrol's defensive screens, even of that period, if linked together as in a very large fleet, could probably have handled a Sunbeam weapon if it had been turned on us. The Boskonians did not allow for the dissipation of power. They contracted their screens for greater shielding, a natural reaction. They should have, instead, expanded their shields to dissipate the energy. They simply burned out their screens by the wrong defense.
"The Patrol can defend against the Sunbeam, if Boskonians themselves succeed in inventing it. The secret is in defensive tactics, not in any new technology.
"The council points out that the Sunbeam could be used to make an opponent spread his screens thinly and then to be attacked with needle-rays, but believes the logistics make it not viable. The conclusion of the council, therefore, is that Civilization need not fear deployment of the Sunbeam.
"This report ends.
"We are now assembling facts on the other items on the agenda. Our preliminary findings are that, first: small black holes may be serious inconveniences if manipulated, but, as yet, large ones cannot be, and pose no major threat. Two: datadrones, like small black holes, are at present only an annoyance. And, finally: the use of hyperspatial tubes is now considered potentially catastrophic, particularly as it relates to the health of every scientist. The council feels that even a small loss of any of its members by injury, kidnapping or death is completely unacceptable to the members. They believe that they are the most valuable assets that Civilization has.
"We are drawing this conviction especially to the attention of Kimball Kinnison. So pay attention to what I'm saying, young man! The Galactic Patrol must defend all scientists as its first priority. Is that clear? Frankly, I'm surprised that Tregonsee, who is usually so reliable, should have had such slip-shod security for some of our most important brains. If this is negligence, it is inexcusable and will not be tolerated by me. Or any of us. You've given me cause to criticize you in the past, but you're older now, and shouldn't allow yourself or others any mistakes. You must realize, young man, what great responsibilities you and Tregonsee have.
"The conference will not adjourn until it feels it has understood and solved this problem.
"Cardynge out."
The screen flickered in many colors and Kinnison turned off the power.
"Well," Kinnison chuckled, "I guess Sir Austin has told me off good and proper! And it's really very reassuring--that peppery old man is still full of beans."
"Full of beans?" There came to Cloudd's mind a more vulgar expression. Cloudd, unfamiliar with the idiosyncrasies of both Cardynge and Kinnison, was both perplexed and disturbed by what seemed to him such intolerant language. Kinnison's picturesque phrasing, picked up from the faddish regional culture of his boyhood, frequently bewildered the uninitiated.
Kinnison noted the troubled thought. "Still firing on all jets," he clarified. "I suggest we all jointly Lens our sincere congratulations to him for conveyance to the scientists assembled." The four Second Stage Lensmen promptly did so, expressing also their thorough agreement that the Galactic Patrol would defend them as its first priority. The scientists sounded scared stiff; no wonder their bickering had so far been kept at a surprisingly low level.
"It's only right for me to point out to you, Cloudd," Kinnison said, "that Cardynge isn't really worried about himself. That wispy little scientific wizard has the courage of a bantam cock--it's the others he's speaking for, with genuine concern, too. As to be expected, the conference is doing a fine job--although, as is also to be expected, they're exhibiting a mixture of complacency and imperious exaggeration. Now let's get back to the question of the datadrones which they so lightly dismiss."
Once more Cloudd was interrogated, both inside and outside his mind, and the discussion began.
Where were the datadrone probes coming from? From, a source inside one of the galaxies? From beyond the galaxies? But there were no life forms beyond the twin galaxies, mostly because there were practically no planets elsewhere. Nothing conclusive. Arguments could be made for either source. But they were definitely coming from some unexplored region of space, and were most active on the edges of the two galaxies. Most likely the source could be a globular cluster, outside the galaxies proper, but part of either one of the galactic systems.
What were they? Most obviously, they were parts of an information collection system. Did they have any other function? Unknown.
Who could be collecting information? Boskonia? Highly improbable. The Spawn or other pirates? The most likely possibility, but recently partially discounted. An undiscovered alien race? Quite possible. A secret activity of one of the Civilized planets? Highly unlikely, but just possible. There were some strong clues present, based on Cloudd's examinations. The technology was not alien, could be definitely identified with Civilization. It had markings suggestive of humanoid culture: reversed-S symbols, wedged-shaped symbols, painted for the visible light optic spectrum of Tellurians and Tellurian types.
When did this probing start? Was it increasing? It was discovered not much more than a year before, in the First Galaxy. It had spread to the Second Galaxy. It certainly was on the increase.
Were the Civilized planets suffering any ill effects? Not really. The datadrones avoided dangerous situations: caused no transportation system foul-ups; interfered with no communications or other frequencies. But they did cause apprehension and unrest by their presence alone.
What did they actually do? They just seemed to drift around in vacuum, rarely in atmosphere, observing. Sometimes they actually took small objects. A dozen or so complex mechanical parts had been found in drones, all broken or worn out. They had, the inevitable deduction seemed to indicate, come from discarded parts, trash dumps, or junk discarded from spaceships. Why? Obviously so as not to disturb the normal functioning of the culture probed? Why weren't they obvious on the surface of planets? Why so considerate? Why so cautious? Perhaps there was a fear of alerting too many ordinary people? Perhaps they were building a tolerance? Perhaps they weren't even collecting anything, but were serving merely as monitoring or warning devices? Why? Why? Why?
What happened to the objects collected? Cloudd concluded that they were scanned, analyzed, tested, and jettisoned, sometimes unchanged and sometimes as atomic particles. They were used only as articles for examination, that seemed definite.
Were they a threat to Civilization? Unknown, but for that very reason they had to be considered as a potential threat of great magnitude.
How did they operate? Small probes passed information on to larger probes, which transmitted such information, encoded, by an undiscoverable method. Significantly, all datadrones contained sizable amounts of anti-matter with unexaminable shielding. Why? The only purpose the antimatter seemed to serve was to inhibit the Patrol from examining the drones thoroughly. One mistake and there was a violent explosion. It had happened. Propulsion was a form of universal energy picked up by each probe in a so far undecipherable way. The use of sub-ether or Nth space was being investigated.
"We have examined all aspects of this situation, Trig," Kinnison said, concluding the exploration of the subject. "It certainly is mysterious, but it doesn't seem to be any immediate or dangerous threat. Why are you so concerned?"
"My investigators indicated that there is definitely an organization known as the Spawn of the Boskone, and that this Spawn is attempting to solve the RIDDLE OF THE DATADRONES. Cloudd, without being influenced by me, has independently come to the conclusion that the drones are considered inimical by our foes in the field. They may think these drones are ours. They may be as worried about them as we are. And they may succeed in finding out about them before we do. The possibility exists that they may discover something to use against us to our great, perhaps fatal, misfortune. I emphatically feel that this may be, eventually, one of the greatest threats we have ever faced, insidious because it is so mysterious."
"I take your point, Trig," Kinnison said. "But Thorndyke is outside now, and Kallatra is ready to join us by Lens while she's en route from her lab at Research Park outside of town. We will get back to the datadrones later."
Thorndyke came in, not nearly as agitated as when Kinnison had first seen him so many hours before.
"You know the problem, Thorny," Kinnison said. "Was the enemy fleet involved in a space-time warp of some sort?"
"No," Thorndyke said. He told them his reasons for his conclusion, and went into a lot of technical detail, using readings from the Sector Patrol Task Force's battle recordings, to indicate that the encounter was far more mysterious than the Lensmen had been considering it. Cloudd couldn't get a clear picture of Thorndyke's reasoning because Thorndyke was not a Lensman and the telepathy to Cloudd's telepathically undeveloped mind, which was dependent on re-transmission by the Lensmen, rendered the conversation fuzzy. Cloudd felt a great kinship toward the dynamic non-Lensman who was the greatest technician in the entire Patrol. Here was a man Cloudd could identify himself with without losing a bit of his own self-assertiveness.
"I've been listening, sirs," came another mind. To Cloudd it was firm and clear, and he knew from the warm greetings of Kinnison and Worsel that this was Lalla Kallatra, a woman Lensman. Cloudd had never met a woman Lensman, and he was intrigued by the prospect. The mind was certainly
impressive, moving and touching like a cool, sweet running brook.
"I've been listening and I have something very serious to offer. I believe Worsel is on the right track. There is more than just a touch of the psychic involved in this. Deuce O'Sx, the Voice-from-Beyond-the-Grave, has told me to beware. I suggest that the Chaplain General, who has grown to know my extramundane work so well, be summoned to this meeting, too. The phantom fleet of the enemy was really phantom. I believe the ships did not exist!"
Conspiracy on Kresh-kree
In the center of the domed room there blazed a sphere of great beauty. Its surface swirled with all the hues of the spectrum, brilliant and dull and intense and faded. Shimmering bands streamed in one direction, then in another. Sometimes the ball sparkled and revolved vertically, sometimes it flamed and turned horizontally. Fast, slow, pulsating, one moment as small as a human skull, another moment ten times as large, it sprayed dancing light from curved floor to ceiling. The sculptured crystal pendants, which hung like numberless clusters of stalactites, glistened, sometimes with streaks of color, sometimes with specks of light.
This was a force-ball, created out of pure thought by a mighty race of entities. Its simplest function, to which use it was now being put, was as an intra-galactic communicator.
Emanating from this sphere, which, ironically was as overwhelmingly gorgeous and pristine as the creature which created it was overwhelmingly ugly and evil, came a thought:
"Imperial Kalonians! Acknowledge your Master!"
On the floor, sitting in pairs to form a large circle, were six male and six female Kalonians, dressed in purple silken lounge suits. Only their styles of hair and their individual jeweled necklaces or strings of beads set them apart. The flecks of color passing across their bare arms and shoulders and faces accentuated the blue skin tones of their flesh. They were all beautiful, the features of the men strong and sharp, the bodies of the women soft and full. Physically, in fact, they were too perfect, smoothly, artificially prettified products of the wealth of aristocrats of the defunct Thrale-Onlonian Empire.
The voice from the sphere had an immediate effect. Each male grasped the coiffured hair of his mate and pulled her head back, exposing her bare, arched throat. Each male pulled from a scabbard at his belt a long knife and placed it against his mate's throat. The razor sharpness of the blades in two instances, slight though the pressure was, sliced the perfect skin so that purplish drops of blood began to trickle down.
