Lensman from rigel, p.16
Lensman From Rigel, page 16
"Where has your mind been wandering? That's why Tsien and Voddon have both been put into a hypnotized state within the cubicle they are sharing--so they can recover from Nadreck's surgery."
"Surgery? Voddon? Something was in his brain, too?"
"My, my, Cloudd. You have been daydreaming!"
"Forgive me," Kallatra said. "I'm really to blame. I noticed you, Cloudd, slipping into some introspection and self-analysis, and my intuition told me to let it happen uninterrupted. So I sealed you off from what's been going on here. Now don't fret, my friend," she said, when Cloudd's blood boiled up at the invasion of his privacy and free-will. "I did not look into what you were thinking. No Lensman would ever violate your right of privacy without permission. I just caught your mood and gave you the peace to pursue it. The base psychiatrist told me--"
"Damn the base psychologist!" Cloudd exploded. "He has no right to bring you into my private life!"
"Psychiatrist, not psychologist," Kallatra corrected. "And on the contrary, sir. Considering your importance to us, he has every right. And, because of my own past psychic troubles, he asked me to help."
"Sorry," Cloudd said, quickly recovering. This new life of "Benson" instead of "D.D." was not coming easily to him. "I do understand."
"And please accept my apologies, too," Kallatra said. "I had no desire to upset you. I can tell that you found your insights, just now, profitable. I am happy for you. So now, let Strong bring you up to date."
"Voddon," Strong continued, taking this all in his stride, as though nothing unusually emotional had happened, "had a transmitter in his head."
"A transmitter!?"
"Yes. Seems as though he's been transmitting everything that's been going on here at Ultra Prime in which he participated."
"That's disastrous!" exclaimed Cloudd.
"Not at all. No transmissions got through. We're too well safeguarded."
"How could this be? I thought Lensmen couldn't be fooled as easily as this."
"We can't be fooled easily. Sometimes, though, with difficulty, we can be temporarily fooled. No harm done, and the crystal and the transmitter are safely boxed up in shielded containers."
"Boxed up? But,..? When...?"
"Kallatra did a good job on you, didn't she? Tsien and Voddon each had a fourth-dimensional extraction performed by Nadreck. Right here. Zip, zip! And they never knew a thing about it. Excuse me, Cloudd. I'll get out of your mind. Did I give you the whole picture?" Cloudd knew Strong had tried to print upon his brain all the details, but really hadn't succeeded. Cloudd wasn't yet that receptive, but he said yes anyhow; he did have the bare facts. "QX, Tregonsee, Cloudd's, yours."
Cloudd was now conscious of Tregonsee calling him, asking for his report on datadrones. With his mind still whirling from the disclosures of enemies within their midst, of a brain implanted with a bomb, of Kallatra's presumptuous prying--distracted by all this--Benson Cloudd gave his report almost automatically. He tried to limit himself only to the technical facts that they didn't already know:
"How are datadrones powered? They are not jet propelled. Not by liquid, solid, nuclear, nor any discoverable fuel. They do, though, have atomic particle emitters as control jets for precision steering. A datadrone's power plant seems electrical, in a general sense, a mix of gravitational and electromagnetic emission. These drones, therefore, sometimes sail by cosmic pressures--sometimes are propelled by electromagnetic induction--sometimes ride anti-matter or Nth space waves. Whatever, the force is almost infinite in strength and availability. No drone need carry any fuel. Even the retro-fuel is from matter collectible in the most empty places of space."
"Is the drive inertialess?" Cardynge asked. "Like the Bergenholm drive? The Patrol has found these drones traveling at the speed of light, even encountering them in free flight."
"They have to be inertialess, but a new energy source, or a new principle or combination, is involved. Mass enters significantly into this. The datadrone mass is extremely small, so we couldn't drive our warships with its power plant. Like a helium dirigible, the lighter the weight, the smaller and more efficient the vehicle can be. Large engines of the drone type would no doubt be clumsy, and maybe not even work. At best, such a system would reduce the size of personal speedsters to something much smaller, maybe suit-fitting, if it's worthwhile to do so. There is probably a limiting factor of acceleration, this system growing more efficient at light speed and beyond. Unlike Bergenholms, it would take time to build to maximum speed. That's, no doubt, why we've been able to capture so many, catching them just as they are beginning to accelerate."
Cloudd was finding this mix of communication modes less strange now. He accepted the fact that he talked aloud, but had his words heard by only half the group--while the others knew his thoughts even before he was through expressing them.
"What I find most fascinating is the capacity of their memory banks. With the right key, they are capable of absorbing the knowledge of an entire planet with a small drone. If they can scan a book, they can copy it. If they can understand the language, they can transcribe records instead of stealing files. They understand Tellurian English perfectly. And all the other languages which I'm competent to test. They can scan in three dimensions and through barriers that aren't too thick, such as filing cases and unarmored spaceships. They recognize and record all wave frequencies, including, I suspect, thought waves. The datadrone Type-2X1 is an incredibly sophisticated investigator and memory bank-- but nothing else. The datadrone Type-50 re-records the information gathered by the Type 2X through the Type-8, evidently functioning to evaluate and eliminate duplication and transmitting it into Nth space to an unknown destination. Nth space transmission could put the user on the other side of the universe, or any place in our own neighborhood which isn't blocked by the activities of the Patrol."
"Who is collecting this information?" Kinnison interjected. "Why are they? Is it dangerous for us? What can we do about it?"
"Well, let's consider the communications links. Some kind of exchange takes place. Probably it's only in one direction, back to its base. Perhaps simple commands might be sent to each separate drone--simple instructions to return to its mother ship or to destroy itself."
Cloudd felt that the pictures of charts and graphs which he was recalling as he spoke were being seen by the Lensmen as though they were pictures he was presenting. He noticed that both Tsien and Voddon were conscious, with the group, unaware of their experience.
"Of course, much of this is guesswork. But a single 2X1 contains billions of chips. That's a lifetime of work to examine all their combinations. That's an infinity of permutations. The chip circuitries would have to be taken to a laboratory such as on Medon for examination."
"Can you answer my questions?" Kinnison said. "Who? Why? What?"
"No, I'm afraid not, sir. I don't know who is doing this nor do I know why. As for danger, that's relative."
"Let me answer the question of what we can do about it," Tregonsee said. "We can increase our security--that is already being done. And very successfully in highly populated and advanced technological areas. But very poorly in lowly populated and low-level technological cultures. Datadrones are becoming more of a nuisance than of a threat to our secrets. So, from a defensive point of view, we certainly have the upper hand, if not complete control. Not, however, offensively--due mostly to our desire to capture them unharmed, and avoid deliberate destruction. The drones seem to be increasing in number, so we've decided now to let no drone escape. It's either capture or destroy. That's the current situation we have to live with."
"I don't seem to have been much help, sir," Cloudd said to Tregonsee.
"Don't underestimate yourself, Cloudd. You've helped us understand the situation. It's up to us all to get more data to work with. After P'Keen does his tests, Nadreck will scan the crystal as you've suggested. Now, gentlemen, let's consider the latest conference reports. From persistent evidence, one problem remaining, of some magnitude, is about some kind of super-black-hole experiment. This could be a super-weapon development undertaken by outlaws with Boskonian financing or direction, or maybe both." Tregonsee began to reel off statements, papers, and statistics so fast that they became a blur in Cloudd's mind.
Cloudd spent the next hour, while the Lensmen conferred, writing out a plan for himself on future action to be taken on the datadrone problem. When the meeting ended and he was leaving the room, Kallatra whirred over to him, using the wheeled platforms on the soles of her knee-high boots instead of stalking.
"I beg your pardon, Cloudd," Kallatra said, "but I've heard rumors of a so-called 'mech-planet,' anything from several hundred to several thousands of miles in diameter. Of course, this myth has been around a long time, but lately such tales have been heard more often. It strikes me that this suggests a gigantic datadrone or a drone collection station. Have you heard anything like this?"
"No, I'm sorry to say, I haven't. Not lately, that is." Cloudd felt self-conscious about looking directly at her metal face, a Lens imbedded in the middle of her forehead. "Thanks for the thought. It sounds provocative." Only her eyes moved. Were they organic? They seemed natural, a bluish gray, sparkling with life. She had no hair, a cloth skull cap, cut to go around her human-shaped metal ears, covering her head down to the nape of her neck. Her chin-high collar probably covered the swivel joint at her neck. The rest of her body, except for those metal hands, was covered with a standard tunic-and-pantaloons uniform of the Patrol.
He wondered if the silvery face really was in fact a death mask of the person she once had been. Rather boldly, he took his longest look yet. No, it wasn't--the representation was insipid. However, hadn't that been what had been implied when he had been introduced to her by her "godparent," Worsel?
Worsel himself suddenly came into his mind. "I caught my name, Cloudd. You're asking me about Lalla?"
"Not really, sir." Cloudd felt his face growing red. "But-- while you're here--with me, that is--well, how do I treat her? As an android or as a real human?"
As suddenly as Worsel had come into his mind, Cloudd suddenly possessed the essential facts about Lalla Kallatra.
She and Worsel had had a remarkable past battling Eichwoor ghosts. Her body had been destroyed, but Worsel had saved her brain. She'd been a normal, very young woman, only the second woman Lensman known by Worsel to exist. And now, although her body was gone, she was still alive as a much matured, undamaged brain. Treat her as a human being, Worsel said. Someday, if Worsel had anything to do with it, she'd have a natural face like the face she should have had, and Cloudd wouldn't be so uneasy.
Had Kallatra been staring at him? He caught those bluish eyes flicking away from him. Had she heard what just had been exchanged? He was conscious of his ears being red and his cheeks being flushed. Cloudd was finding his association with Lensmen at this close and intimate range a trying experience. He was growing into a new awareness, that was what was happening. He was mentally growing, and he felt he had no limits.
"A datadrone collection station. That's a fascinating idea, Kallatra," he picked up where he had left off, finding it easier now to say "Kallatra" without feeling he was anthropomorphically talking to one of his own servo-mechanisms back on the old ship. His face was cooling down. This mind might be more stimulating than Lucille's had been, but Lucille had been physically attractive. The contrast made him much more aware of his loss. And it again made him aware of his obsession. He would have to start exorcising the ghost of Lucille, by having girlfriends again. He would start now, as Benson and not as Double-Dee, to rejoin reality. Maybe he could start with that attractive assistant that Thorndyke seemed to have....
He daydreamed along, feeling uncommonly good about it, all the way out to the roof to catch an aircab to his quarters. He was there on the roof waiting when Tregonsee called him by telepathy and changed his plans. No doubt about it, he was getting quite accustomed to this method now, and it was really not unpleasant at all!
"I want you to go to see P'Keen immediately," Tregonsee said. "It's about the crystal."
Cloudd finally got to see P'Keen after an hour's wait.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Cloudd," P'Keen said, "I've been in contact with Mrs. Kimball Kinnison's home about delivering a present for her expected baby and got a real scare. Tregonsee said he's received a report warning of an impending attack on the Kinnison household. We checked out all security and found nothing. We've made things tighter than ever, and we're convinced there's no danger. Anyhow, what you're needed for is to let me probe your mind to see if there are any details you've overlooked or half-forgotten about the finding of that Ordovik crystal of yours."
For the next fifteen minutes Cloudd and P'Keen worked together, but nothing new seemed to emerge.
Then came another call from Tregonsee for Cloudd to meet him immediately in Kinnison's office.
When Cloudd came in there were only three men present, Kinnison, Tregonsee, and Chaplain General Chon. Kinnison and Chon nodded, and Tregonsee jumped into his mind immediately.
"We have a dangerous mission for you, Cloudd," he said, "if you want to take it."
"I'll take it, of course!" Cloudd said. "Great! Danger is my middle name." He used to tell people that all the time, when they asked him what "D.D." stood for.
"First, I'll tell you what it's all about. Then you can volunteer." Tregonsee explained that his mock death had succeeded in pinpointing the source of the personal tube attacks. He credited "two of my best agents, Seena-KK-45 at Kresh-kree near the inward side of the Green Parrot Nebula, and Ulie-KK-46 on Tanse, its distant neighbor" as having established the irrefutable evidence and briefly described the grim situation: a group of Kalonians, unrepentant aristocrats who had fled the overthrow of the Thrale-Onlonian Empire, were identified as one of the most serious focal points of continued Boskonian resistance. They were probably responsible for the recent tube attacks. They were interested in a new and terrible weapon. Perhaps it concerned the black hole rumors, but it also concerned some kind of new power discovered on a moon of Tanse among its neighboring star systems. This immeasurable power could affect organic minds and had so far blocked all mental attempts to investigate it. There was also some kind of force barrier preventing any life form from approaching it, except along a narrow channel directly from its mother planet. There was a deadline to meet to keep this power from somehow unleashing the ultimate of destructive forces against the Patrol and Civilization. A Patrol force with Lens capability had to go to Tanse immediately before the deadline and find out what was happening. Personal danger to the strike force was warned as being extreme. It would first require exposure to a savage culture in which physical death and torture were commonplace. Then, the next phase would be exposure to an unknown mental force, in which torture of the mind leading to quick destruction seemed to be inescapable if pursued.
"So," Tregonsee said, "a Second Stage Lensman is needed there immediately--in person, as the force barrier between it and the moon is too strong for mental projection. Worsel has his own task, assembling a Patrol fleet to go out to the edge of the galaxy in the vicinity of Green Parrot. Nadreck has agreed to join the fleet in his flitter and be on hand to evaluate possible Nth-spatial or multi-dimensional causations. That leaves available just me and Kinnison as L2s. Two hours ago we agreed to go together, along with another Lensman-- planning for me to be in space, Kinnison to be on Tanse, and the other Lensman to go to the deadly moon. This plan now seems impractical, yet the deadline for departure has come. I must make an immediate decision." Tregonsee's attitude and his speech seemed so stiff that to Cloudd the Rigellian was like another robotoid, like Kallatra, a strange, inhuman hulk, unmoving, expressionless, but behind its brain case a very intelligent mind ticking over. As for Kinnison, he was inattentive, seemingly occupied with other things. Cloudd couldn't see what Tregonsee was leading up to. He, Cloudd, wasn't a Lensman, so where was his dangerous mission?
Then Cloudd found out why Tregonsee was so solemn.
"The other Lensman was to have been Frank Garner," Tregonsee said. "Garner can't go. I'm suggesting you, instead."
Cloudd was flabbergasted.
"Me?" Cloudd said. "Me? With you and Kinnison? What do you mean? Are there others with me in this, ah, Patrol force?" --
"Does it matter? Would you go if we two were the only ones?"
"I'll go!" Cloudd said. "I'll go alone if that's best! You bet I'll go! I wouldn't miss this for anything!" Was he dreaming?
"But why me?" He looked at Kinnison, who caught his eye and smiled. He looked at Chaplain General Chon who looked somber, much as though he was professionally at a deathwatch.
"A sturdy, muscular Tellurian type is called for, Cloudd," Kinnison said. "And you fit the bill."
"But I'm not a Lensman," Cloudd protested. "Don't get me wrong, I'll love to go! But will I be good enough?"
"Frankly, Cloudd," Tregonsee said, "I don't have much choice. I need a Tellurian body, as Kim says, a man of youth, strength and agility; he has to fit into this barbarian culture we'll be stepping into. Being a Lensman could be a disadvantage when we face this 'Turmoil of Lost Souls' thing; I suspect that the stronger the mind, the stronger the reaction by this unknown force. Religion, human sacrifices, gods, and lost souls are some of the ingredients in this unique picture, so Chon, here, was considered to replace Garner. But he's really not young enough, and there's a chance that his automatic responses from his religious consciousness might be a detriment instead of a help. I'm happy to have someone like you, unsophisticated, mentally untrained, not privy to a lot of Patrol secrets. I think you can more easily pass yourself off as a barbarian."
Cloudd, for one fraction of a moment, was a bit chagrined to realize that he was being chosen as much for what he wasn't as for what he was. But that moment was fleeting; he wasn't all that egotistical to think that he could really stack up with Kimball Kinnison and Tregonsee of Rigel IV.
