Life on other planets -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space warfare -- Fiction
"He is lying," Eichmil decided. "You of Delgon, take him out of his
armor." The Overlord did so, the Tellurian's struggles meaningless
to the reptile's superhuman strength. "Release your screen and see
whether or not you can make him tell the truth."
After all, the man might not be lying. The fact that he could
understand a strange language meant nothing at all. All Lensmen could.
"But in case he _should_ be the one we seek--" The Overlord hesitated.
"We will see to it that no harm comes to you--"
"We cannot," the Ninth--the psychologist--broke in. "Before any
screen is released I suggest that we question him verbally, under the
influence of the drug which renders it impossible for any warm-blooded
oxygen breather to tell anything except the complete truth."
The suggestion, so eminently sensible, was adopted forthwith.
"Are you the Lensman who has made it possible for the Patrol to drive
us out of the Tellurian Galaxy?" came the sharp demand.
"No," was the flat and surprising reply.
"Who are you, then?"
"Philip Morgan, class of--"
"Oh, this will take forever!" snapped the Ninth. "Let me question him.
Can you control minds at a distance and without previous treatment?"
"If they are not too strong, yes. All of us specialists in psychology
can do that."
"Go to work upon him, Overlord!"
The now fully reassured Delgonian snapped off his screen and a battle
of wills ensued which made the subether boil. For Kinnison, although he
no longer knew what the truth was, still possessed a large part of his
mental power, and the Delgonian's mind, as has already been made clear,
was a capable one indeed.
"Desist!" came the command. "Earthman, what happened?"
"Nothing," Kinnison replied truthfully. "Each of us could resist the
other; neither could penetrate or control."
"Ah!" and nine Boskonian screens snapped off. Since the Lensman could
not master one Delgonian, he would not be a menace to the massed minds
of the nine of Boskone, and the questioning need not wait upon the
slowness of speech. Thoughts beat into Kinnison's brain from all sides.
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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