Pluto is, on the average, about times as away from the sun as is Mother Earth. Each square of Earth's surface about sixteen hundred times as much as each of Pluto's. The sun as from Pluto is a dim, speck. Even at perihelion, an event which only once in two hundred eight Tellurian years, and at and on the equator, Pluto is so cold that upon its surface cannot be by or to warm-blooded, oxygen-breathing man.
As good an as any can be given, perhaps, by the that it had taken the Patrol's best over six months to perfect the which Virgil Samms then wore. For no ordinary space-suit would do. Space itself is not cold; the only of is by into or through an almost perfect vacuum. In with Pluto's rocky, soil, however, there would be conduction; and the of the heat-loss the Tellurian scientists gasp.
"Watch your feet, Virge!" had been Roderick Kinnison's last thought. "Remember those psychologists—if they in with that ground for five minutes they their to the ankles. Not that the boys aren't good, but sometimes in more than one. If your start to cold, you're doing and drive here at max!"
Virgil Samms landed. His warm. Finally, that the of his the indefinitely, he his way on into the settlement near which he had come to ground. And there he saw his Palainian.
Or, speaking, he saw part of his Palainian; for no three-dimensional has or will see in any of any of the frigid-blooded, poison-breathing races. Since life as we know it—organic, three-dimensional life—is upon liquid water and oxygen, such life did not and not upon are only a above zero. Many, most, of these ultra-frigid have an of sorts; some have no at all. Nevertheless, with or without and without and water, life—highly life—did upon millions and millions of such worlds. That life is not, however, three-dimensional. Of necessity, in the forms, it an into the hyper-dimension; and it is this alone which makes it possible for life to under such conditions.
The makes it for any being to see anything of a Palainian the fluid, amorphous, ever-changing thing which is his three-dimensional of the moment; makes any attempt at or portraiture futile.
Virgil Samms at the Palainian; to see what it looked like. He not tell it had or antennae; legs, arms, or tentacles, teeth or beaks, or or feet; skin, scales, or feathers. It did not anything that the Lensman had seen, sensed, or imagined. He gave up; sent out an thought.
"I am Virgil Samms, a Tellurian," he sent out slowly, carefully, after he with the of the creature's mind. "Is it possible for you, sir or madam, to give me a moment of your time?"
"Eminently possible, Lensman Samms, since my time is of value." The monster's mind into with Samms' with a speed and that him gasp. That is, a part of it en with a part of his: years were to pass the First Lensman would know much more about the Palainian than he learned in that contact; no beings the Children of the Lens were to the intricacies, the complexities, of the Palainian mind.
"'Madam' might be correct," the native's on. "My name, in your symbology, is Twelfth Pilinipsi; by education, training, and I am a Chief Dexitroboper. I that you are a native of that Planet Three, upon which it was for so long that no life possibly exist. But with your has been almost ... Ah, the Lens. A device, truly. I would you and take it, for the that only you can it."
"What!" Dismay and Samms' mind. "You already know the Lens?"
"No. Yours is the that any of us has perceived. The mechanics, the mathematics, and the of the thing, however, are clear."
"What!" Samms again. "You can, then, produce Lenses yourselves?"
"By no means, any more than you Tellurians can. There are magnitudes, variables, determinants, and which no Palainian will be able to develop, to generate, or to control."
"I see." The Lensman himself together. For a First Lensman, he was making a indeed....
"Far from it, sir," the him. "Considering the of the into which you have so senselessly, your mind is well and strong. Otherwise it would have shattered. If our positions were reversed, the of the of your Earth would—come no closer, please!" The thing vanished; many yards away. Her were a of loathing, of terror, of detestation. "But to on. I have been attempting to and to your purpose, without success. That failure is not too surprising, of course, since my mind is weak and my total power is small. Explain your mission, please, as as you can."
Weak? Small? In view of the power the had just shown, Samms for irony, for or pretense. There was no of anything of the kind.
He tried, then, for fifteen solid minutes, to the Galactic Patrol, but at the end the Palainian's only was one of blank non-comprehension.
"I fail to the use of, or the need for, such an organization," she flatly. "This altruism—what good is it? It is that any other would take any or any for us, any more than we would for them. Ignore and be ignored, as you must already know, is the Prime Tenet."
"But there is a little our worlds; your people did not our psychologists; and you are not me," Samms pointed out.
"Oh, none of us is perfect," Pilinipsi replied, with a and what to be an of a multi-tentacled member. "That ideal, like any other, can only be approached asymptotically, reached; and I, being and silly, as well as weak and vacillant, am much less perfect than most."
Flabbergasted, Samms a new tack. "I might be able to make my position if I you better. I know your name, and that you are a woman of Palain Seven"—it is a measure of Virgil Samms' size that he actually "woman", and not "female"—"but all I can of your is the name you have it. What a Chief Dexitroboper do?"
"She—or he—or, perhaps, it ... is a of the work of dexitroboping." The thought, while perfectly clear, was meaningless to Samms, and the Palainian it. She again. "Dexitroboping has to do with ... nourishment? No—with nutrients."
"Ah. Farming—agriculture," Samms thought; but this time it was the Palainian who not the concept. "Hunting? Fishing?" No better. "Show me, then, please."
She tried; but demonstration, too, was useless; for to Samms the Palainian's movements were pointless indeed. The thing and forth, rose and fell, appeared and disappeared; the while in shape and and size, in and texture. It was now spiny, now tentacular, now scaly, now with feather-like fronds, each a slime. But it did not do anything whatever. The result of all its activity was, apparently, zero.
"There, it is done." Pilinipsi's again came clear. "You and understood? You did not. That is strange—baffling. Since the Lens did and tremendously, I that it might to the physical as well. But there must be some basic, difference, the nature of which is at present obscure. I wonder ... if I had a Lens, too—but no...."
"But yes!" Samms in, eagerly. "Why don't you go to Arisia and be for one? You have a magnificent, a mind. It is of Lensman in every respect one—you don't want to use it!"
"Me? Go to Arisia?" The would have been, in a Tellurian, a laugh of scorn. "How silly—how stupid! There would be personal discomfort, possibly personal danger, and two Lenses would be little or no than one in our two continua, which are in incommensurable."
"Well, then," Samms thought, almost viciously, "can you me to someone who is stupider, sillier, and more than you are?"
"Not here on Pluto, no." The Palainian took no offense. "That was why it was I who the Tellurian visitors and why I am now with you. The others you."
"I see." Samms' was grim. "How about the home planet, then?"
"Ah. Undoubtedly. In fact, there is a group, a club, of such persons. None of them is, of course, as insane—as aberrant—as you are, but they are all much more so than I am."
"Who of this would be most in a Lensman?"
"Tallick was the least of the New-Thought Club when I left Seven; Kragzex a close second. There may of have been since then. But I cannot that Tallick—even Tallick at his worst—would be to join your Patrol."
"Nevertheless, I must see him myself. Can you and will you give me a of a from here to Palain Seven?"
"I can and I will. Nothing you have will be of any use to me; that will be the and way of of you." The Palainian spread a in Samms' mind, the line, and about her business.
Samms, mind reeling, his way to his and took off. And as the light-years and the parsecs past, he and into a of speculation. What were—really—those Palainians? How they—really—exist as they to exist? And why had some of that dexitroboper's—whatever that meant!—thoughts come in so and clear and plain while others...?
He that his Lens would and would into his own any or message, or or sent or transmitted. The Lens was not at fault; his was. There were concepts—things—actualities—occurrences—so to Tellurian that no existed. Hence the mind the channels, the mechanisms, to them.
He and Roderick Kinnison had the possibility of of life so that would have no point of with them. After what Samms had just gone through, that was more of a possibility than either he or his friend had believed; and he grimly, as he how this with the Palainian had him, that the possibility would a fact.
He the Palainian easily enough, and Palain Seven. That planet, of course, was almost as dark upon its as upon the other, and its had no use for light. Pilinipsi's instructions, however, had been minute and exact; hence Samms had very little trouble in the city—or, rather, the village, since there were no cities. He the planet's one spaceport. What a thing to call a port! He back; this part of his with Pluto's Chief Dexitroboper.
"The place upon which space-ships land," had been her thought, when she him where it was in relationship to the town. Just that, and nothing else. It had been his mind, not hers, that had the and cradles, the service cars, the officers, and all the other taken for in space-fields as Samms them. Either the Palainian had not the with which Samms had her visualization, or she had not about his to go to the trouble of it; he did not know which.
The whole area was as as his hand. Except for the pitted, scarred, slagged-down which so what would do to such cold and metal, Palainport was in no way from any other of the planet's surface.
There were no signals; he had been told of no landing conventions. Apparently it was for himself. Wherefore Samms' landing lights out, and with their he came safely to ground. He put on his and to the air-lock; then his mind and to the cargo-port instead. He had to walk, but in view of the and and the unknown the and the town, he to the "creep" instead.
This vehicle, while slow, go—literally—anywhere. It had a cigar-shaped of magnalloy; it had big, soft, tires; it had tracks; it had air- and water-propellers; it had wings; it had driving, braking, and jets. It the of Mars, the and of Venus, the of Earth, the jagged, surface of an iron asteroid, and the cratered, of the moon; if not with equal speed, at least with equal safety.
Samms the thing and it into the lock, that he would have to the air of that lock into space he again the seal. The into the ship; the port closed. Here he was!
Should he use his headlights, or not? He did not know the Palainians' to or toward light. It had not to him while at Pluto to ask, and it might be important. The landing lights of his might already have done his harm. He drive by if he had to ... but he needed light and he had not a single or moving thing. There was no that there was a Palainian miles. While he had known, with his brain, that Palain would be dark, he had to and traffic—ground-cars, planes, and at least a space-ships—and not this nothingness.
If nothing else, there must be a road from Palain's city to its only spaceport; but Samms had not it from his and he not see it now. At least, he not it. Wherefore he in the drive and took off in a line toward town. The going was more than rough—it was rugged—but the was to up under and its pilot's chair was and to the same degree. Hence, while the itself was than the to Rigelston, Samms this much less than the other had been.
Approaching the village, he his and down. At its he cut them and his way by alone.
What a town! Virgil Samms had the places of almost every of Civilization. He had out in circles, sectors, ellipses, triangles, squares, parallelopipeds—practically every plan to geometry. He had of all and sizes—narrow skyscrapers, vast-spreading one-stories, polyhedra, domes, spheres, semi-cylinders, and and full and and pyramids. Whatever the plan or the of the units, however, those places had, without exception, been understandable. But this!
Samms, his now dark-accustomed, see well, but the more he saw the less he grasped. There was no plan, no or whatever. It was as though a hand had a hundreds of buildings, of and and and architectures, upon an otherwise empty plain, and as though each had been allowed since to in and it had to fall. Here and there were of three or more structures. There were a was almost orderly. Here and there were large, irregularly-shaped of bare, ground. There were no streets—at least, nothing that the man as such.
Samms the for one of those open areas, then stopped—declutched the tracks, set the brakes, and killed the engines.
"Go slow, fellow," he himself then. "Until you out what a actually while at his trade, don't take of or of doing damage!"
No Lensman knew—then—that frigid-blooded poison-breathers were not three-dimensional; but Samms did know that he had actually which he not understand. He and Kinnison had such enough; but the was to shake the mind of Civilization's First Lensman.
He did not need to be any closer, anyway. He had learned the Palainians' patterns well to Lens them from a than his present one; this personal visit to Palainopolis had been a of friendliness, not a necessity.
"Tallick? Kragzex?" He sent out the questing, thought. "Lensman Virgil Samms of Sol Three calling Tallick and Kragzex of Palain Seven."
"Kragzex acknowledging, Virgil Samms," a back, as diamond-clear, as precise, as Pilinipsi's had been.
"Is Tallick here, or on the planet?"
"He is here, but he is at the moment. He will join us presently."
Damnation! There it was again! First "dexitroboping", and now this!
"One moment, please," Samms requested. "I fail to the meaning of your thought."
"So I perceive. The fault is of mine, in not being able to my mind to yours. Do not take this, please, as any upon the or of your own mind."
"Of not. I am the Tellurian you have met?"
"Yes."
"I have with one other Palainian, and the same existed. I can neither it; but it is as though there are us so that in some is in impossible."
"A and a true one. This emmfozing, then—if I read correctly, your has only two sexes?"
"You read correctly."
"I cannot understand. There is no close analogy. However, has to do with reproduction."
"I see," and Samms saw, not only a brand-new to his experience, but also a new view of the powers and the of his Lens.
It was, by its very nature, of grade. It and them into English. There was some leeway, but not much. If any was such that there was no close or in English, the Lens would not it at all, but would give it a meaningless symbol—a symbol which would from that time on be associated, by all Lenses everywhere, with that one and no other. Samms then that he might, some day, learn what a actually did and what the act of actually was; but that he very would not.
Tallick joined them then, and Samms again glowingly, as he had done so many times before, the Galactic Patrol of his and plannings. Kragzex to have anything to do with such a thing, almost as as Pilinipsi had done, but Tallick lingered—and wavered.
"It is that I am not sane," he admitted, "which may the that I would very much like to have a Lens. But I gather, from what you have said, that I would not be a Lens to use purely for my own selfish purposes?"
"That is my understanding," Samms agreed.
"I was so." Tallick's was ... "woebegone" is the only word for it. "I have work to do. Projects, you know, of difficulty, of and scope, sometimes danger. A Lens would be of use."
"How?" Samms asked. "If your work is of to people, Mentor would give you a Lens."
"This would me; only me. We of Palain, as you already know, are selfish, mean-spirited, small-souled, cowardly, furtive, and sly. Of what you call 'bravery' we have no trace. We our ends by stealth, by indirection, by and deceit." Ruthlessly the Lens was Virgil Samms the exact English of the Palainian's every thought. "We operate, when we must at all openly, with the minimum of personal risk. These and will, I have no doubt, all possibility of Lensmanship for me and for every of my race."
"Not necessarily."
Not necessarily! Although Virgil Samms did not know it, this was one of the moments in the into being of the Galactic Patrol. By a conscious, a effort, the First Lensman was himself above the narrow, of and was attempting to see the whole through Mentor's Arisian mind of through his Tellurian own. That Virgil Samms was the being to be with the ability to that was one of the why he was the of the Lens.
"Not necessarily," First Lensman Virgil Samms said and meant. He was shocked—revolted in every fiber—by what this had so and thought. There were, however, many which no being understand, and there was not the of a that this Tallick had a mind. "You have said that your mind is feeble. If so, there is no of the of mine. I can only one, the human, of the truth. In a view it is possible that your is at least as 'noble' as mine. And to complete my argument, you work with other Palainians, do you not, to a common goal?"
"At times, yes."
"Then you can of the of with non-Palainian toward an end which would races?"
"Postulating such an end, yes; but I am unable to any such. Have you any project in mind?"
"Not at the moment." Samms ducked. He had already every in his locker. "I am certain, however, that if you go to Arisia you will be of such projects."
There was a period of silence. Then:
"I that I will go to Arisia, at that!" Tallick exclaimed, brightly. "I will make a with your friend Mentor. I will give him a share—say fifty percent, or forty—of the time and I save on my own projects!"
"Just so you go, Tallick." Samms right his opinion of the Palainian's scheme. "When can you go? Right now?"
"By no means. I must this project. A year, perhaps—or more; or possibly less. Who knows?"
Tallick cut and Samms frowned. He did not know the exact length of Seven's year, but he that it was long—very long.
