It has been said that the drive of the Eddorians was a for power; a which should be and modified. Their warrings, their strifes, their and were of the and capability—and the limitations—of their minds. Not upon any one to keep such minds as theirs occupied; and, the Arisians, they not themselves in a study of the possibilities of the Cosmic All. They had to be doing something; or, yet, making other and beings do to make the physical to their idea of what a should be.
Their was to set up the of control. The second echelon, the Masters, was of the most important, and after a survey of they to give this high to the Ploorans. Ploor, as is now well known, was a of a sun so that all Plooran life had to in physical in order to live through the in its every year. Physical form, however, meant nothing to the Eddorians. Since no other like theirs in this, our normal plenum, like theirs would be impossible; and the Plooran left very little to be desired.
In the third there were many different races, among which the frigid-blooded, poison-breathing Eich were the most and most callous; and in the fourth there were millions upon millions of thousands upon thousands of widely-variant races.
Thus, at the pinpoint in history by the time of Virgil Samms and Roderick Kinnison, the Eddorians were busy; and if such a word can be used, happy. Gharlane of Eddore, second in authority only to the All-Highest, His Ultimate Supremacy himself, paid little attention to any one or to any one race. Even such a mind as his, when the of twenty and then sixty and then a hundred worlds, can do so only in broad, and not in fine.
And thus the reports which were now in to Gharlane in a and groups of worlds, and systems, and regions. A might be mentioned as of a class, but no than a Plooran was named or discussed. Gharlane those reports; collated, digested, compared, and them; and and most resultants. Gharlane orders, the out of which would make an entire region fit more and more into the Great Plan.
But, as has been pointed out, there was one in the Boskonian system. Underlings, then as now, were to over their own mistakes, to up their own incompetences. Thus, since he had no to specifically, Gharlane did not know that anything had gone on Sol Three, the which had him more trouble than all the of his worlds combined.
After the fact, it is easy to say that he should have his personal of Earth, but can that view be defended? Egotistical, self-confident, arrogant, Gharlane that he had Tellus into line. It was the same now as any other of its class. And had he it while to make such a exception, would not the Elders of Arisia have intervened?
Be those as they may, Gharlane did not know that the new-born Galactic Patrol had been successful in Triplanetary's Hill against the Black Fleet. Nor did the Plooran Assistant Director in charge. Nor did any of that group of Eich which was then calling itself the Council of Boskone. The highest-ranking Boskonian who of the fiasco, of his own ability, had not this minor of to report to his superior. He had already taken steps to the condition. In fact, as now stood, the thing was more than otherwise, in that it would the Patrol into themselves in a position of superiority—a which would, at election time, prove fatal.
This being, to the limit of for a but coloration, had been with Senator Morgan for a of two hours.
"In the covered, your reports have been complete and conclusive," the visitor said finally, "but you have not reported on the Lens."
"Purposely. We are it, but any report upon our present knowledge would be and inconclusive."
"I see. Commendable enough, usually. News of this has, however, gone and higher than you think and I have been ordered to take of it; to decide or not to it myself."
"I am of...."
"I will decide that, not you." Morgan subsided. "A report is therefore in order. Go ahead."
"According to the submitted and approved, a Lensman was taken alive. Since the Lens has properties, and hence is at great distances, the operation was out in the possible time. The Lens, upon from the Patrolman's arm, to and the who the thing died. It was then by to four other men—workers, these, of no importance. All four died, thus all possibility of coincidence. An attempt was to a of the active material, without success. It to be inert. Neither was it by or by sub-atomic bombardment, by any available. Meanwhile, the man was of being questioned, under truth-drug and beams. His mind any knowledge of the nature of the Lens; a thing which I am to believe. His mind to the that he the Lens upon the Arisia. I am for your my opinion that the high-ranking officers of the Patrol are using to the of the Lens."
"Your opinion is for consideration."
"The man died examination. Two minutes after his death his Lens disappeared."
"Disappeared? What do you mean? Flew away? Vanished? Was stolen? Disintegrated? Or what?"
"No. More like or sublimation, that there was no in volume, and there was no residue, either solid, liquid, or gaseous. The platinum-alloy intact."
"And then?"
"The Patrol in and our was destroyed."
"You are sure of these facts?"
"I have the records. Would you like to see them?"
"Send them to my office. I you of all in the of the Lens. In fact, I may decide to it to a higher echelon. Have you any other material, not necessarily facts, which may have bearing?"
"None," Morgan replied; and it was just as well for Virgilia Samms' well-being that the Senator did not think it while to mention the of his Number One and a members of a gang. To his way of thinking, the Lens was not involved, very incidentally. Herkimer, in of and orders, had got with the girl, and Samms' had him out. Served him right.
"I have no of any phase of your work. You are doing a particularly job on thionite. You are of all as to key personnel?"
"Certainly. Thorough and watchfulness. Our Mr. Isaacson is about to promote a man who has proved very capable. Would you like to the proceedings?"
"No. I have no time for minor matters. Your results have been satisfactory. Keep them that way. Good-bye." The visitor out.
Morgan for a switch, then his hand back. No. He would like to in on the interview, but he did not have the time. He had Olmstead and personally; he what the man was. It was Isaacson's department; let Isaacson it. He himself must work full time at the job which only he handle; the Nationalists must and would win this election.
And in the office of the president of Interstellar Spaceways, Isaacson got up and hands with George Olmstead.
"I called you in for two reasons. First, in reply to your message that you were for a job. What makes you think that any such are available?"
"Do I need to answer that?"
"Perhaps not ... no." The magnate quietly. Morgan was right; this man not be of being dumb. "There is such a job, you are for it, and you have your in the work of harvesting. Second, why did you cut down, of as ordered, the weight of trip? This, Olmstead, is serious."
"I why. It would have been more the other way. Didn't you I what I was talking about?"
"Your may have been in transmittal. I want it from you."
"Very well. It isn't to be greedy. There's a point at which something that has been a a thing that has to be out. Since I didn't want to be in that when the Patrol it out of the ether, I cut the take, and I you to keep it down. What you're now is a more than you got before, and a of a more than none at all. Think it over."
"I see. Upon what did you arrive at the you established?"
"Pure guesswork, nothing else. I that about three hundred of the previous month ought to satisfy who wasn't too to have good sense, and that more than that would ring a loud, clear right where we don't want any noise made. So I cut it to three, and Ferdy either to keep it at three or while he was still all in one piece."
"You your authority ... and were ... but it wouldn't me if you were right. You are right in principle, and the poundage can be by and analysis. But in the meantime, there is pressure for production."
"I know it. Pressure be damned. My dear Virgil is, as you already know, a crackpot. He is visionary, idealistic, full of sweet and of what the would be like if there weren't so many people like you and me in it; but don't make the mistake of him off as anybody's fool. And you know, than I do, what Rod Kinnison is like. If I were you I'd tell is doing the to their mouths they their teeth their throats."
"I'm very much to take your advice. And now as to this promotion. You are of familiar in a way with our operation at Northport?"
"I help something about the biggest on Earth. However, I am not well in detail to make a good executive."
"Nor is it necessary. Our is to make you a key man in a new and branch of the business, as Department Q. It is neither with production with uranium."
"Q as in 'quiet', eh? I'm with ears. What would be with this ... er ... position? What would I do?"
Two of hard locked and held, into each other's depths.
"You would not be to learn that other than occasionally Northport?"
"Not too surprised, no," Olmstead dryly. "What would I do with it?"
"We need not go into that here or now. I offer you the position."
"I accept it."
"Very well. I will take you to Northport, and we will continue our talk en route."
And in a spy-ray-proof, sound-proof of a Spaceways-owned they did so.
"Just for my information, Mr. Isaacson, how many have I had on this particular job, and what to them? The Patrol them?"
"Two. No; we have not been able to any that the Samms has any of us. Both were too small for the job; neither personnel. One got ideas, the other couldn't the strain. If you don't ideas, and don't up, you will make out in a big—and I big—way."
"If I do either I'll be more than surprised." Olmstead's set themselves into a mirthless, uncompromising, somehow grin.
"So will I." Isaacson agreed.
He what this man was, and just how case-hardened he was. He that he had Morgan himself to a tie after Herkimer—and he was no soft touch—into a pretzel in nothing flat. At the of the secretary, so and so vanished, the magnate's mind left for a moment the in hand. What was at the of that affair—the Lens or the woman? Or both? If he were in Morgan's shoes ... but he wasn't. He had of his own, without about any of Morgan's stinkeroos. He Olmstead's inscrutable, and that he had a wise decision.
"I that I am going to be one of the main in the of deliveries. What's the technique, and how do I up?"
"Technique first. You go fishing. You are an expert at that, I believe?"
"You might say so. I won't have to do any there."
"Some week-end soon, and every week-end later on, we hope, you will in your sport at some or other. You will take the solid and liquid along in a lunch-box. When you have you will the lunch-box overboard."
"That all?"
"That's all."
"The lunch-box, then, will be special?"
"More or less, although it will look ordinary enough. Now as to the cover-up. How would 'Director of Research' sound?"
"I don't know. Depends on what the are doing. Before I an I was a pure scientist of sorts; but that was a while ago and I was a specialist."
"That is one why I think you will do. We have of specialists—too many, I often think. They off in all directions, without or reason. What we want is a man with scientific to know in what is going on, but what he will need mostly is hard common sense, and ability—mental force, you might call it—to the to earth and make them together. If you can do it—and if I didn't think you I wouldn't be talking to you—the whole will know that you are earning your pay; just as we not the that your two weren't."
"Put that way it good. I wouldn't wonder if I it."
The on, but the of it is of little here. The plane landed. Isaacson the new Director of Research to Works Manager Rand, who in turn him to a of his scientists and to the and red-head who was to be his private secretary.
It was clear from the that the Research Department was not going to be an easy one to manage. The top men were defiant, the middle ranks were sullen, the smaller were as well as sullen. The on shoulders. Men and the of the old "a new clean" for the third time in twice that many months, and they were him to do his worst. Wherefore they were very much when the new did nothing for two solid read reports and with his department.
"How d'ya like your new boss, May?" another asked, a break.
"Oh, not too ... I guess." May's was full of reservations. "He's quiet—sort of reserved—no or anything like that—it'd be if I got a that had something on the ball, wouldn't it? But you know what, Molly?" The red-head suddenly. "I had a camera-fiend first, you know, with a credits' of stereo-cams and such stuff, and then a golf-nut. I wonder what this Dr. Olmstead with his cash?"
"You'll out, dearie, no doubt." Molly's gave the a meaning different from the one of their arrangement.
"I to, Molly—I to." May's meaning, too, was not by the of used. "It must be tough, a boss's life. Having to at a or be in six or seven hours a day—when he isn't playing around somewhere—for a thousand or so a month. How do they that way?"
"You said it, May. You said it. But we'll ours, huh?"
Time on. George Olmstead reports, and more reports. He read one, and re-read it, frowning. He it with another; then sent red-headed May to up one which had been in a of before. He took them home that evening, and in the he three buttons. Three men his summons.
"Good morning, Doctor Olmstead."
"Morning, boys. I'm not up on the of any one of these three reports, but if you this, and this, and this," heavily-penciled of the three documents, "would you, or would you not, be able to work out a that would do away with about three-quarters of the final and processes?"
They did not know. It had not been the of any one of them, or of all them collectively, to out.
"I'm making it your as of now. Drop you're doing, put your together, and out. Theory first, then a small-scale laboratory experiment. Then come here on the double."
"Yes, sir," and in a days they were back.
"Does it work?"
"In it should, sir, and on a laboratory it does." The three men were, if possible, than before. It was not the time, would it be the last, that a Director of Research would for work which he was not of doing.
"Good. Miss Reed, me Rand ... Rand? Olmstead. Three of my boys have just out something that may be a a year to us.... Me? Hell, no! Talk to them. I can't any one of the three parts of it, to say nothing of it. I want you to give 'em a class AAA on the pilot plant, as of right now. If they can it, and I'm they can, I'm going to put their pictures in the Northport News and give 'em a of thousand and a of to it in.... Yeah, I'll send 'em in." He to the three. "Take your in to Rand—now. Show him what you've got; then tear into that pilot plant."
And, a little later, Molly and May again met in the room.
"So your new is a fisherman!" Molly snickered. "And they say he paid over two hundred for a reel! You were right, May; a boss's life must be hard to take. And he around more and less, they say, than any other in the plant."
"Who says so, the dirty, liars?" the red-head blazed, that she had her position. "And if it was so, which it isn't, he can do more work perfectly still than any other in the whole Works can do around at parsecs a minute, so there!"
George Olmstead was earning his salary.
His position was when, a days later, a of ran through the Research Department. "Heads up, everybody! Mr. Isaacson—himself—is coming—here! What for, I wonder? Y'don't s'pose he's going to take the Old Man away from us already, do you?"
He came. He through, for the time, the entire department. He minutely, and he what he saw.
Olmstead the Big Boss into his private office and the which that proof against any and all of spying, eavesdropping, intrusion, and communication. It did not, however, close the deeper, which the Lensmen used.
"Good work, George. So good that I'm going to have to take you out of Department Q and make you Works Manager of our new plant on Vegia. Have you got a man you can in to take your place here?"
"Including Department Q? No." Although Olmstead did not it, he was at the word "Vegia". He had been much higher than that—at the of the Boskonian Armed Forces, no less—but there might still be time to win a transfer there.
"Excluding. I've got another good man here now for that. Jones. Not enough, though, for Vegia."
"In that case, yes. Dr. Whitworth, one of the boys who out the new process. It'll take a little time, though. Three minimum."
"Three it is. Today's Friday. You've got in shape, haven't you, so that you can take the week-end off?"
"I was on it. I'm not going where I I was, though, I imagine."
"Probably not. Lake Chesuncook, on Route 273. Rough country, and the hotel is something less than fourth rate, but the can't be beat."
"I'm of that. When I fish, I like to catch something."
"It would if you didn't. They stock lunch-boxes in the cafeteria, you know. Have your girl you one, full of sandwiches and stuff. Start early this afternoon, as soon as you can after I leave. Be sure and see Jones, with your lunch-box, you leave. Good-bye."
"Miss Reed, send Whitworth in. Then to the and me a lunch-box. Sandwiches and a of coffee. Provender for a wet and fisherman."
"Yes, sir!" There were no now; the red-head's was the top of the whole plant.
"Hi, Ned. Take the throne." Olmstead his hand at the now chair the big desk. "Hold it 'til I back. Monday, maybe."
"Going fishing, huh?" Gone was all of stiffness, of reserve, of unfriendliness. "You big, lucky stiff!"
"Well, my squirt, maybe you'll old and to go some day. Who knows? 'Bye."
Lunch-box in hand and with tackle, Olmstead walked along the to the office of Assistant Works Manager Jones. While he had not just what to expect, he was not to see a lunch-box like his own upon the side-table. He his box it.
"Hi, Olmstead." By no of did either Lensman step out of character. "Shoving off early?"
"Yeah. Dropped by to let the Head Office know I won't be in 'til Monday."
"O.K. So'm I, but more speed for me. Chemquassabamticook Lake."
"Do you that or it? But have fun, my boy. I'm with pleasure, though—breaking in Whitworth on my job. That Fairplay thing is going to in about an hour, and it'll the off of him. But it'll keep until Monday, anyway, and if he it right he's just about in."
Jones grinned. "A brutal, perhaps, but a sure way to out. 'Bye."
"So long." Olmstead out, up the box on the way, and left the building.
He ordered his Dillingham, and the lunch-box as as though it did not an unknown number of millions of credits' of clear-quill, thionite.
"I you have a week-end, sir," the yard-man said, as he helped and tackle.
"Thanks, Otto. I'll you a of fish Monday, if I catch that many," and it should be said in that he them. Lensmen keep their promises, under or given.
It being mid-afternoon of Friday, the traffic was already heavy. Northport was not a metropolis, of course; but on the other hand it did not have multi-tiered, one-way, non-intersecting streets. But Olmstead was in no hurry. He his mount—it was a green in color, with there was any for to be—across the city and into the north-bound of the superhighway. Even then, he did not hurry. He wanted to the station at the of the Preserve at dusk. Ninety miles an hour would do it. He his way into the ninety-mile and relative to the other vehicles on the strip.
It was a sensation; it as though the themselves were stationary, with the them. There was no passing, no weaving, no in and out. Only occasionally would the be as a car would shift almost to one or the other; up or to match the speed of the way.
The was and clear, neither too too cold. Olmstead his drive thoroughly, and at the turn-off right on schedule. Leaving the wide, way, he abruptly; a Dillingham Super-Sporter not make speed on the narrow, rough, and road to Chesuncook Lake.
At he the Post. Instead of stopping on the he off the road, got out, hugely, and took a drum-major's steps to take the out of his legs.
"A of road, eh?" the smartly-uniformed remarked. "No guns?"
"No guns." Olmstead opened up for inspection. "From Northport. Funny, isn't it, how hard it is to stop, when you aren't in any particular hurry? Guess I'll eat now—join me in a sandwich and some coffee or a cold or soda?"
"I've got my own supper, thanks; I was just going to eat. But did you say a cold sour?"
"Uh-huh. Ice-cold. Zero Centigrade."
"I will join you, in that case. Thanks."
Olmstead opened a frost-lined compartment; took out two half-liter bottles; them and his open lunch-box on the low wall.
"Hm ... m ... m. Quite a you got there, mister." The at the luxurious, two-wheeled monster; to its almost hum. "I've about those new supers, but that is the one I saw. Nice. All the of home, eh?"
"Just about. Sure you won't help me clean up on those sandwiches, they stale?"
Seated on the wall, the two men ate and talked. If that had what was in the box his leg he would have over backward; but how was he to suspect? There was nothing or or about any of the work of any of Boskone's high-level operators.
Olmstead on to the and took up his at the hotel. He slept, and and early the next he was up and fishing—and this part of the performance he enjoyed. He his and the fish were there; big, wary, and game. He loved it.
At he ate, and openly and the "empty" box to the deep. Even if he had not had so many fish to carry, he was not the type to a lunch-box to town. He all afternoon, without the limit, and as the sun the he started his putt-putt and to the dock.
The thing hadn't sent out any yet, Northrop him tensely, but it would, and when it did they'd be ready. There were Lensmen and Patrolmen all over the place, than on a dog.
And George Olmstead, and yet of one more day of sport, up his and his fish and toward the hotel.
