The Greatest Works of E. E. Smith. E. E. Smith

rebellious crew of cut-throats to Arisia? No. In the event of an outcome short of complete success, it would not do to lose face before that band of ruffians. Moreover, the idea of such a crew going insane behind him was not one to be relished. He would go alone.

      “Wolmark, come to the center,” he ordered. When that worthy appeared he went on: “Be seated, as this is to be a serious conference. I have watched with admiration and appreciation, as well as some mild amusement, the development of your lines of information; especially those concerning affairs which are most distinctly not in your department. They are, however, efficient—you already know exactly what has happened.” A statement this, in no wise a question.

      “Yes, sir,” quietly. Wolmark was somewhat taken aback, but not at all abashed.

      “That is the reason you are here now. I thoroughly approve of you. I am leaving the planet for a few days, and you are the best man in the organization to take charge in my absence.”

      “I suspected that you would be leaving, sir.”

      “I know you did: but I am now informing you, merely to make sure that you develop no peculiar ideas in my absence, that there are at least a few things which you do not suspect at all. That safe, for instance,” nodding toward a peculiarly shimmering globe of force anchoring itself in air. “Even your highly efficient spy system has not been able to learn a thing about that.”

      “No, sir, we have not—yet,” he could not forbear adding.

      “Nor will you, with any skill or force known to man. But keep on trying, it amuses me. I know, you see, of all your attempts. But to get on. I now say, and for your own good I advise you to believe, that failure upon my part to return to this desk will prove highly unfortunate for you.”

      “I believe that, sir. Any man of intelligence would make such arrangement, if he could. But sir, suppose that the Arisians .”

      “If your ‘if he could’ implies a doubt, act upon it and learn wisdom,” Helmuth advised him coldly. “You should know by this time that I neither gamble nor bluff. I have made arrangements to protect myself, both from enemies, such as the Arisians and the Patrol, and from friends, such as ambitious youngsters who are trying to supplant me. If I were not entirely confident of getting back here safely, my dear Wolmark, I would not go.”

      “You misunderstand me, sir. Really, I have no idea of supplanting you.”

      “Not until you get a good opportunity, you mean—I understand you thoroughly; and, as I have said before, I approve of you. Go ahead with all your plans. I have kept at least one lap ahead of you so far, and if the time should ever come when I can no longer do so, I shall no longer be fit to speak for Boskone. You understand, of course, that the most important matter now in work is the search for the Lensman, of which the combing of Trenco and the screening of the Patrol’s systems are only two phases?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Very well. I can, I think, leave matters in your hands. If anything really serious comes up, such as a development in the Lensman case, let me know at once. Otherwise do not call me. Take the desk,” and Helmuth strode away.

      He was whisked to the space-port, where there awaited him his special speedster, equipped long since with divers and sundry items of equipment whose functions were known only to himself.

      For him the trip to Arisia was neither long nor tedious. The little racer was fully automatic, and as it tore through space he worked as coolly and efficiently as he was wont to do at his desk. Indeed, more so, for here he could concentrate without interruption. Many were the matters he planned and the decisions he made, the while his portfolio of notes grew thicker and thicker.

      As he neared his destination he put away his work, actuated his special mechanisms, and waited. When the speedster struck the barrier and stopped Helmuth wore a faint, hard smile; but that smile disappeared with a snap as a thought crashed into his supposedly shielded brain.

      “You are surprised that your thought-screens are not effective?” The thought was coldly contemptuous. “I know in essence what the messenger from Ploor told you concerning them when he gave them to you; but he spoke in ignorance. We of Arisia know thought in a way that no member of his race is now or ever will be able to understand.

      “Know, Helmuth, that we Arisians do not want and will not tolerate uninvited visitors. Your presence is particularly distasteful, representing as you do a despotic, degrading, and anti-social culture. Evil and good are of course purely relative, so it cannot be said in absolute terms that your culture is evil. It is, however, based upon greed, hatred, corruption, violence, and fear. Justice it does not recognize, nor mercy, nor truth except as a scientific utility. It is basically opposed to liberty. Now liberty—of person, of thought, of action—is the basic and the goal of the civilization to which you are opposed, and with which any really philosophical mind must find itself in accord.

      “Inflated overweeningly by your warped and perverted ideas, by your momentary success in dominating your handful of minions, tied to you by bonds of greed, of passion, and of crime, you come here to wrest from us the secret of the Lens; from us, a race as much abler than yours as we are older—a ratio of millions to one.

      “You consider yourself cold, hard, ruthless. Compared to me, you are weak, soft, tender; as helpless as a newborn child. That you may learn and appreciate that fact is one reason why you are living at this present moment. Your lesson will now begin.”

      Then Helmuth, starkly rigid, unable to move a muscle, felt delicate probes enter his brain. One at a time they pierced his innermost being, each to a definitely selected center. It seemed that each thrust carried with it the ultimate measure of exquisitely poignant anguish possible of endurance, but each successive needle carried with it an even more keenly unbearable thrill of agony.

      Helmuth was not now calm and cold. He could have screamed in wild abandon, but even that relief was denied him. He could not even scream; all he could do was sit there and suffer.

      Then he began to see things. There, actually materializing in the empty air of the speedster, he saw in endless procession things he had done, either in person or by proxy, both during his ascent to his present high place in the pirates’ organization and since the attainment of that place. Long was the list, and black. As it unfolded his torment grew more and ever more intense, until finally, after an interval that might have been a fraction of a second or might have been untold hours, he could stand no more. He fainted, sinking beyond the reach of pain into a sea of black unconsciousness.

      He awakened white and shaking, wringing wet with perspiration and so weak that he could scarcely sit erect, but with a supremely blissful realization that, for the time being at least, his punishment was over.

      “This, you will observe, has been a very mild treatment,” the cold Arisian accents went on inside his brain. “Not only do you still live, you are even still sane. We now come to the second reason why you have not been destroyed. Your destruction by us would not be good for that struggling young civilization which you oppose.

      “We have given that civilization an instrument by virtue of which it should become able to destroy you and everything for which you stand. If it cannot do so it is not yet ready to become a civilization and your obnoxious culture shall be allowed to conquer and to flourish for a time.

      “Now go back to your dome. Do not return. I know that you will not have the temerity to do so in person. Do not attempt to do so by any form whatever of proxy.”

      There were no threats, no warnings, no mention of consequences; but the level and incisive tone of the Arisian put a fear into Helmuth’s cold heart the like of which he had never before known.

      He whirled his speedster about and hurled her at full blast toward his home planet. It was only after many hours that he was able to regain even a semblance of his customary poise, and days elapsed before he could think coherently enough to consider as a whole the shocking, the unbelievable thing that had happened to him.

      He wanted to believe that the creature, whatever it was, had been bluffing—that it could not kill him,