"You have erred seriously," the entity was thinking coldly, emotionlessly, into the globe, "in not deducing until after it was too late to save your base that the Lensman had perfected a nullifier of subethereal detection. Your contention that I am equally culpable is, I think, untenable. It was your problem, not mine; I had, and still have, other things to concern me. Your base is of course lost; whether or not you yourself survive will depend entirely upon the adequacy of your protective devices." "But, Eichlan, you yourself pronounced them adequate!" There followed an interval of silence, as though those conferring were separated by such a gulf of space that even thought, with its immeasurable velocity of propagation, required finite time to traverse it. "Pardon me--I said that they _seemed_ adequate." [Illustration: _Through inter-Galactic space Helmuth's thought drove._ "_You said the defenses were adequate!_" "_I said they seemed adequate_," _said the Eichlan coldly._] "If I survive--or, rather, after I have destroyed this Lensman--what are your orders?" Another interval. "Go to the nearest communicator and concentrate our forces; half of them to engage this Patrol fleet, the remainder to wipe out all the life of Sol III. I have not tried to give those orders direct, since all the beams are keyed to your board and, even if I could reach them, no commander in that Galaxy knows that I speak for Boskone. After you have done that, report to me here." "Instructions received and understood. Helmuth, ending message." "Set your controls as instructed. I will observe and record. Prepare yourself, the Lensman comes. Eichlan, speaking for Boskone, ending message." The Lensman rushed. Even before he crashed the pirate's screens his own defensive zone flamed white in the beam of semiportable projectors, and through that blaze came tearing the metallic slugs of a high-caliber machine rifle. But the Lensman's screens were almost those of a battleship, his armor relatively as strong; he had at his command projectors scarcely inferior to those opposing his advance. Therefore, with every faculty of his newly enlarged mind concentrated upon that thought-screened, armored head behind the bellowing gun and the flaring projectors, Kinnison held his line and forged ahead. * * * * * Attentive as he was to Helmuth's thought-screens, the Patrolman was ready when it weakened slightly and a thought began to seep through, directed at that peculiar ball of force. He blanketed it savagely, before it could even begin to take form, and attacked the screen so viciously that the Boskonian had either to restore full coverage instantly or else die there and then.