First Lensman by E. E. Smith (epub e ink reader .TXT) 📕

“But why now? Why not thousands of cycles ago? And why Virgil Samms?”

“To answer those questions would be to give you valuable data. You may⁠—too late⁠—be able to answer them yourself. But to continue: you accuse me, and all Arisia, of cowardice; an evidently muddy and inept thought. Reflect, please, upon the completeness of your failure in the affair of Roger’s planetoid; upon the fact that you have accomplished nothing whatever since that time; upon the situation in which you now find yourself.

“Even though the trend of thought of your race is basically materialistic and mechanistic, and you belittle ours as being ‘philosophic’ and ‘impractical,’ you found⁠—much to your surprise⁠—that your most destructive physical agencies are not able to affect even this form of flesh which I am now energizing, to say nothing of affecting the reality which is I.

“If this episode is the result of the customary thinking of the second-in-command of Eddore’s Innermost Circle⁠ ⁠… but no, my visualization cannot be that badly at fault. Overconfidence⁠—the tyrant’s innate proclivity to underestimate an opponent⁠—these things have put you into a false position; but I greatly fear that they will not operate to do so in any really important future affair.”

“Rest assured that they will not!” Gharlane snarled. “It may not be⁠—exactly⁠—cowardice. It is, however, something closely akin. If you could have acted effectively against us at any time in the past, you would have done so. If you could act effectively against us now, you would be acting, not talking. That is elementary⁠—self-evidently true. So true that you have not tried to deny it⁠—nor would you expect me to believe you if you did.” Cold black eyes stared level into icy eyes of Norwegian blue.

“Deny it? No. I am glad, however, that you used the word ‘effectively’ instead of ‘openly’; for we have been acting effectively against you ever since these newly-formed planets cooled sufficiently to permit of the development of intelligent life.”

“What? You have? How?”

“That, too, you may learn⁠—too late. I have now said all I intend to say. I will give you no more information. Since you already know that there are more adult Arisians than there are Eddorians, so that at least one of us can devote his full attention to blocking the direct effort of any one of you, it is clear to you that it makes no difference to me whether you elect to go or to stay. I can and I will remain here as long as you do; I can and I will accompany you whenever you venture out of the volume of space protected by Eddorian screen, wherever you go. The election is yours.”

Gharlane disappeared. So did the Arisian⁠—instantaneously. Dr. Nels Bergenholm, however, remained. Turning, he resumed his work where he had left off, knowing exactly what he had been doing and exactly what he was going to do to finish it. He released the zone of compulsion, which he had been holding upon every human being within sight or hearing, so dexterously that no one suspected, then or ever, that anything out of the ordinary had happened. He knew these things and did these things in spite of the fact that the form of flesh which his fellows of the Triplanetary Service knew as Nels Bergenholm was then being energized, not by the stupendously powerful mind of Drounli the Molder, but by an Arisian child too young to be of any use in that which was about to occur.

Arisia was ready. Every Arisian mind capable of adult, or of even near-adult thinking was poised to act when the moment of action should come. They were not, however, tense. While not in any sense routine, that which they were about to do had been foreseen for many cycles of time. They knew exactly what they were going to do, and exactly how to do it. They waited.

“My visualization is not entirely clear concerning the succession of events stemming from the fact that the fusion of which Drounli is a part did not destroy Gharlane of Eddore while he was energizing Gray Roger,” a young Watchman, Eukonidor by symbol, thought into the assembled mind. “May I take a moment of this idle time in which to spread my visualization, for enlargement and instruction?”

“You may, youth.” The Elders of Arisia⁠—the mightiest intellects of that tremendously powerful race⁠—fused their several minds into one mind and gave approval. “That will be time well spent. Think on.”

“Separated from the other Eddorians by intergalactic distance as he then was, Gharlane could have been isolated and could have been destroyed,” the youth pointed out, as he somewhat diffidently spread his visualization in the public mind. “Since it is axiomatic that his destruction would have weakened Eddore somewhat and to that extent would have helped us, it is evident that some greater advantage will accrue from allowing him to live. Some points are clear enough: that Gharlane and his fellows will believe that the Arisian fusion could not kill him, since it did not; that the Eddorians, contemptuous of our powers and thinking us vastly their inferiors, will not be driven to develop such things as atomic-energy-powered mechanical screens against third-level thought until such a time as it will be too late for even those devices to save their race from extinction; that they will, in all probability, never even suspect that the Galactic Patrol which is so soon to come into being will in fact be the prime operator in that extinction. It is not clear, however, in view of the above facts, why it has now become necessary for us to slay one Eddorian upon Eddore. Nor can I formulate or visualize with any clarity the techniques to be employed in the final wiping out of the race; I lack certain fundamental data concerning events which occurred and conditions which obtained many, many cycles before my birth. I am unable to believe that my perception and memory could have been so