Clarrissa glanced at the sender and thought that she recognized the face. Her new channels functioned instantaneously; she remembered every detail. "Lensman Clarrissa, formerly of Sol III, Unattached. I remember you, Ladora, although you were only a child when I was here. Do you remember me?" "Yes. I repeat, what do you want?" The memory did not decrease Ladora's hostility. "I would like to speak to the former Elder Person, if I may." "You may not. It is no longer with us. Leave at once, or we will shoot you down." "Think again, Ladora." Clarrissa held her tone even and calm. "Surely your memory is not so short that you have forgotten the _Dauntless_ and its capabilities." "I remember. You may take up with me whatever it is that you wish to discuss with my predecessor Elder Person." "You are familiar with the Boskonian Invasion of years ago. It is suspected that they are planning new and Galaxy-wide outrages, and that this planet is in some way involved. I have come here to investigate the situation." "We will conduct our own investigations," Ladora declared, curtly. "We insist that you and all other foreigners stay away from this planet." "_You_ investigate a Galactic condition?" In spite of herself, Clarrissa almost let the connotations of that question become perceptible. "If you give me permission, I will land alone. If you do not, I shall call the _Dauntless_ and we will land in force. Take your choice." "Land alone, then, if you must land," Ladora yielded, seethingly. "Land at our City Airport." "Under those guns? No, thanks; I am neither invulnerable nor immortal. I land where I please." She landed. During her previous visit she had had a hard enough time getting any help from these pigheaded matriarchs, but this time she encountered a nonco-operation so utterly fanatical that it put her completely at a loss. None of them tried to harm her in any way; but not one of them would have anything to do with her. Every thought, even the friendliest, was stopped by a full-coverage block; no acknowledgment, even, was ever made. "I can crack those blocks easily enough, if I want to," she declared, one bad evening, to her mirror, "And if they keep this up very much longer, by Klono's emerald-filled gizzard, I _will_!" XIV. When Kimball Kinnison received his son's call he was in Ultra Prime, the Patrol's stupendous Klovian base, about to enter his ship. He stopped for a moment; practically in mid-stride. While nothing was to be read in his expression or in his eyes, the lieutenant to whom he had been talking had been an interested, if completely uninformed, witness to many such Lensed conferences, and knew that they were usually important. He was, therefore, not surprised when the Lensman turned around and headed for an exit. "Put her back, please. I won't be going out for a while, after all," Kinnison explained, briefly. "Don't know exactly how long."