"A LYRANIAN!" Maitland interrupted. Kinnison could feel the racing of his assistant's thoughts. "That complicates things. But how in Palain's purple hells, Kim, could Eddie ever have got to Lyrane--and if he did, how did he get away alive?" "I don't know, Cliff." Kinnison's mind, too, was working fast. "But you haven't got all the dope yet. Not only is she a Lyranian, but I know her personally--she's that airport manager who tried her level best to kill me all the time I was on Lyrane II." "Hm-m-m." Maitland tried to digest that undigestible bit. Tried, and failed. "That would seem to make the Lensman real, too, then--real enough, at least, to investigate--much as I hate to think of the possibility of a Lensman going that far off the beam." Maitland's convictions died hard. "Unless--could there be any possibility of coincidence?" "Coincidence is out. Don't think it's a trap, either--hasn't got the right earmarks." "You'll handle this yourself, then?" "Check. At least, I'll help. There may be people better qualified than I am to do the heavy work. I'll get them at it. Thanks, Cliff--clear ether." He lined a thought to his wife; and after a short, warmly intimate contact, he told her everything that had happened. "So you see, Beautiful," he concluded, "your wish is coming true. I couldn't keep you out of this if I wanted to. So check with the girls, put on your Lens, take off your clothes, and go to work." "I'll do that." Clarrissa laughed and her soaring spirit flooded his mind. "Thanks, my dear." [Illustration: KIT KINNISON] Then and only then did Kimball Kinnison, master therapist, pay any further attention to that which lay contorted upon the floor. But when Whyte folded up his notebook and left the place, the derelict was resting quietly; and in a space of time long enough so that the putative writer of space operas would not be connected with the cure, those fits would end. Moreover, Eddie would return, whole, to the void: he would become what he had never before been--a successful meteor miner. Lensmen pay their debts; even to spiders and to worms. IX. Her adventure in the hyperspatial tube had taught Kathryn Kinnison much. Realizing her inadequacy and knowing what to do about it, she drove her speedster at high velocity to Arisia. Unlike the Second-Stage Lensmen, she did not even slow down as she approached the planet's barrier; but, as one sure of her welcome, merely threw out ahead of her an identifying thought. "Ah, daughter Kathryn, again you are in time." Was there, or was there not, a trace of emotion--of welcome, even of affection?--in that usually utterly emotionless thought? "Land as usual."