"That's it," he breathed. "That's it--That's IT, just as sure as Klono has got teeth and claws." "What's it? What do you see?" she demanded. "I see how and why I got the way I am--and if the kids had Lenses theirs would be the same. Remember Dad's? Look at your dominants--notice that every one of them is duplicated in mine. Blank them out of mine, and see what you've got left--pure Kimball Kinnison, with just enough extras thrown in to make me an individual instead of a carbon copy. Hm-m-m credits to millos this is what comes of having Lensmen on both sides of the family. No wonder we're freaks! Don't know whether I'm in favor of it or not--I don't think that they should produce any more Lady Lensmen, do you? Maybe that's why they never did." "Don't try to be funny," she reproved; but her dimples were again in evidence. "If it would result in more people like you and your sisters, I would be very much in favor of it; but, some way or other, I doubt it. I know that you're squirming to go, so I won't hold you any longer. What you just found out about Lenses is fascinating. For the rest of it ... well ... thanks, son, and clear ether." "Clear ether, Mother. This is the worst part of being together, leaving so quick. I'll see you again, though, soon and often. If you get stuck, yell, and one of the kids or I--or all of us--will be with you in a split second." He gave her a quick, hard hug; kissed her enthusiastically, and left. He did not tell her, and she never did find out, that his "discovery" of one of the secrets of the Lens was made to keep her from asking questions which he could not answer. * * * * * The Red Lensman was afraid that she would not have time to put her new mind in order before reaching Lyrane II; but, being naturally a good housekeeper, she did. More, so rapidly and easily did her mind now work, she had time to review and to analyze every phase of her previous activities upon that planet and to lay out in broad her first lines of action. She wouldn't put on the screws at first, she decided. She would let them think that she didn't have any more jets than before. Helen was nice, but a good many of the others, especially that airport manager, were simply quadruply-distilled vixens. She'd take it easy at first, but she'd be very sure that she didn't get into any such jams as last time. She coasted down through Lyrane's stratosphere and poised high above the city she remembered so well. "Helen of Lyrane!" she sent out a sharp, clear thought. "That is not your name, I know, but we did not learn any other--" She broke off, every nerve taut. Was that, or was it not, Helen's thought; cut off, wiped out by a guardian block before it could take shape? "Who are you, stranger, and what do you want?" the thought came, almost instantly, from a person seated at the desk of the Chief Executive of the planet.