Life on other planets -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space warfare -- Fiction
"QX. Well, fellows, I'd like to stay here with you, and so would Kit,
but we've got chores to do. I don't have to tell you to be careful, but
I'm going to, anyway. BE CAREFUL! And as soon as you get done, come
back home just as fast as Klono will let you. Clear ether, fellows!"
"Clear ether, Kim!"
Lensman father and Lensman son boarded their speedster and left. They
traversed the tube and emerged into normal space, all without a word.
"Kit," the older man ground out, finally. "This gives me the colly
wobblies, no less. Suppose some of them--or all of them--get killed out
there? Is it worth it? I know it's my own idea, but will we need it
badly enough to take the chance?"
"We will, Dad. Mentor says that we will."
And that was that.
XXIV.
Kit had had to get back to normal space as soon as possible, in order
to be available in case of need. He wanted to get back in time to help
his sisters pull themselves together. Think as he would, he could
find no flaw in any one of them; but he knew that Mentor would find
something or other the matter with each of them. Not a weakness in any
ordinary sense, but a strength which was not the ultimate.
Kinnison had had to get back because his business was really pressing.
He had called a conference of all the Second-Stage Lensmen and his
children; a conference which, bizarrely enough, was to be held in
person and not via Lens.
"Not strictly necessary, of course," the Gray Lensman half-apologized
to his son as their speedster neared the point of rendezvous with
the _Dauntless_. "I still think that it's a good idea, though,
especially since we were all so close to Lyrane anyway."
"So do I. It's been a mighty long time since we were all together.
Everybody's there now except Nadreck--he'll board about the same time
we do."
They boarded. Spacehounds both, they saw to it that their speedster was
dogged down solidly into her chocks before they went to the main saloon.
"Hi, Mums! Still stopping traffic at all intersections, I see!" Kit
lowered his mother's feet to the floor and attempted the physically
impossible feat of embracing all four of his sisters at once.
By common consent the Five used only their eyes. Nothing showed.
Nevertheless, the girls blushed vividly and Kit's face twisted into a
dry, wry grin.
"It was good for what ailed us, though, at that--I guess." Kit did
not seem to be at all positive. "Mentor, the lug, told me no less
than six times that I had arrived--or at least made statements which
I interpreted as meaning that. And Eukonidor just told me that I was
a 'finished tool,' whatever that means. Personally, I think that they
were sitting back and wondering how long it was going to take us to
realize that we never could be half as good as we used to think we
were. Suppose?"
"Something like that, probably. We've shivered more than once,
wondering whether we are really finished products yet or not."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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