Although they had long since learned that their asexuality was practically unique, that bisexual life dominated the universe, this knowledge served only to stiffen their determination to rule, and finally to change to their own better standards, that universe. They were still seeking a better proxy race; the more nearly asexual a race, the better. One race, the denizens of a planet of a variable sun, approached that idea closely. So did the Kalonians, whose women had only one function in life--the production of men. Now these creatures had learned of the matriarchs of Lyrane. That they were physically females meant nothing; to the Eddorians one sex was just as good--or as bad--as the other. The Lyranians were strong; not tainted by the weaknesses which seemed to characterize all races believing in even near-equality of the sexes. Lyranian science had been trying for centuries to do away with the necessity for males; in a few more generations, with some help, that goal could be achieved and the perfect proxy race would have been developed. It is not to be supposed that this story was obtained in such straight-forward fashion as it is presented here. It was dim, murky, confused. Cleonie never had understood it. Clarrissa understood it better, but less accurately; for in the version the Red Lensman received, one minor change was made--in it the Ploorans and the Eddorians were one and the same race! She understood, however, that that actually unnamed and to her unknown race was the highest of Boskone, and the place of the Kalonians in the Boskonian scheme was plain enough. "I am giving you this story," the Kalonian Lensman told Cleonie coldly, "not of my own free will but because I must. I hate you as much as you hate me. What I would like to do to you, you may imagine. Nevertheless, so that your race may have its chance, I am to take you on a trip and, if possible, make a Lensman out of you. Come with me." And, urged by her jealousy of Helen, her seething ambition, and probably, if the truth were to be known, by an Eddorian mind, Cleonie went. There is no need to dwell at length upon the horrors, the atrocities, of that trip; of which the matter of Eddie the meteor miner was only a very minor episode. It will suffice to say that Cleonie was very good Boskonian material; that she learned fast and passed all tests successfully. "That's all," the Black Lensman informed her then, "and I'm glad to see the last of you. You'll get a message when to hop over to Nine and pick up your Lens. Flit--and I hope that the first Gray Lensman you meet will ram his Lens down your throat and turn you inside out." "The same to you, brother, and many of them," Cleonie sneered. "Or, better, when my race supplants yours as Proxies of Power, I shall give myself the pleasure of doing just that to you." * * * * *