The captain, or whoever was in charge, would send for him; that was a foregone conclusion. He would have to find out what it was that he had caught; he would have to make a preliminary report of some kind. And somebody would slip. One hundred percent vigilance was impossible, and Kinnison would be on his toes to take advantage of that slip, whatever or however slight it might be. But the captors did not take Kinnison to the captain. Instead, accompanied by half-a-dozen armored men, that worthy came to Kinnison. "Start talking, fellow, and talk fast," the Boskonian directed crisply in the lingua franca of deep space as the armored soldiers strode out. "I want to know who you are, what you are, what you've done, and everything about you and the Patrol. So talk--or do you want me to pull you apart with these tractors, armor and all?" Kinnison paid no attention, but drove at the commander with his every mental force and weapon. Blocked. This ape too had a full-body, full-coverage screen. There was a switch, at the captain's hip, handy for finger-tip control. If he could only move! It would be _so_ easy to flip that switch! Or if he could throw something, or make one of those other fellows brush against him just right, or if the guy happened to sit down a little too close to the arm of a chair, or if there were a pet animal of any kind around, or a spider or a worm or even a gnat-- VI. Second-Stage Lensman Tregonsee of Rigel IV did not rush madly out into space in quest of something or anything Boskonian in response to Kinnison's call. To hurry was not Tregonsee's way. He could move fast upon occasion, but before he would move at all he had to know exactly how, where, and why he should move. He conferred with his three fellows, he furnished them with all the data he possessed, he helped integrate the totaled facts into one composite. That composite pleased the others well enough so that they went to work, each in his own fashion, but it did not please Tregonsee. He could not visualize any coherent whole from the available parts. Therefore, while Kinnison was investigating the fall of Antigan IV, Tregonsee was sitting--or rather, standing--still and thinking. He was still standing still and thinking when Kinnison went to Radelix. Finally he called in an assistant to help him think. He had more respect for the opinions of Camilla Kinnison than for those of any other entity, outside of Arisia, of the two galaxies. He had helped train all five of the Kinnison children, and in Cam he had found a kindred soul. Possessing a truer sense of values than any of his fellows, he alone realized that the pupils had long since passed their tutors; and it is a measure of his quality that the realization brought into Tregonsee's tranquil soul no tinge of rancor, but only wonder. What those incredible Children of the Lens had he did not know, but he knew that they--particularly Camilla--had extraordinary gifts.