any length, pay any
price whatever, to keep you from returning to your own world, to prevent the inrush of
your barbarous hordes here . . ."
"Oh! So that's it!" Kinnison exclaimed. "You think that some of our people might
want to settle down here, or to have traffic with you?"
"Yes." She went into a eulogy concerning Lyrane II, concluding, "I have seen the
planets and the races of your so-called Civilization, and I detest them and it. Never
again shall any of us leave Lyrane; nor, if I can help it, shall any stranger ever come
here."
"Listen, angel-face!" the man commanded. "You're as mad as a Radeligian
cateagle—you're as cockeyed as Trenco's ether. Get this, and get it straight. To any
really intelligent being of any one of forty million planets, your whole Lyranian race
would be a total loss with no insurance. You're a God-forsaken, spiritually and
emotionally starved, barren, mentally ossified, and completely monstrous mess. If I,
personally, never see either you or your planet again, that will be exactly twenty seven
minutes too soon. This girl here thinks the same of you as I do. If anybody else ever
hears of Lyrane and thinks he wants to visit it, I'll take him out of— I'll knock a hip down
on him if I have to, to keep him away from here. Do I make myself clear?"
"Oh, yet—perfectly!" she fairly squealed in school-girlish delight. The Lensman's
tirade, instead of infuriating her farther, had been sweet music to her peculiarly insular
mind. "Go, then, at once—hurry! Oh, please, hurry! Can you drive the car back to your
vessel, or will one of us have to go with you?"
"Thanks. I could drive your car, but it won't be necessary. The "copter will pick us
up."
He spoke to the watchful Ralph, then he and the Aldebaranian left the hall,
followed at a careful distance by the throng. The helicopter was on the ground, waiting.
The man and the woman climbed aboard.
"Clear ether, persons!" The Lensman waved a salute to the crowd and the
Tellurian craft shot into the air.
Thence to the Dauntless, which immediately did likewise, leaving behind her,
upon the little airport, a fused blob of metal that had once been the zwilnik's speedster.
Kinnison studied the white face of his captive, then handed her a tiny canister.
"Fresh battery for your thought-screen generator; yours is about shot." Since she
made no motion to accept it, he made the exchange himself and tested the result. It
worked. "What's the matter with you, kid, anyway? I'd say you were starved, if I hadn't
caught you at a full table."
"I am starved," the girl said, simply. "I couldn't eat there. I knew they were going
to kill me, and it . . . it sort of took away my appetite."
"Well, what are we waiting for? I'm hungry, too—let's go eat."
"Not with you, either, any more than with them. I thanked you, Lensman, for
saving my life there, and I meant it. I thought then and still think that I would rather have
you kill me than those horrible, monstrous women, but I simply can't eat."
"But I'm not even thinking of killing you—can't you get that through your skull? I
don't make war on women; you ought to know that by this time."
"You will have to." The girl's voice was low and level. "You didn't kill any of those
Lyranians, no, but you didn't chase them a million parsecs, either. We have been taught
ever since we were born that you Patrolmen always torture people to death. I don't quite
believe that of you personally, since I have had a couple of glimpses into your mind, but
you'll kill me before I'll talk. At least, I hope and I believe that I can hold out."
"Listen, girl." Kinnison was in deadly earnest. "You are in no danger whatever.
You are just as safe as though you were in Klono's hip pocket. You have some
information that I want, yes, and I will get it, but in the process I will
price whatever, to keep you from returning to your own world, to prevent the inrush of
your barbarous hordes here . . ."
"Oh! So that's it!" Kinnison exclaimed. "You think that some of our people might
want to settle down here, or to have traffic with you?"
"Yes." She went into a eulogy concerning Lyrane II, concluding, "I have seen the
planets and the races of your so-called Civilization, and I detest them and it. Never
again shall any of us leave Lyrane; nor, if I can help it, shall any stranger ever come
here."
"Listen, angel-face!" the man commanded. "You're as mad as a Radeligian
cateagle—you're as cockeyed as Trenco's ether. Get this, and get it straight. To any
really intelligent being of any one of forty million planets, your whole Lyranian race
would be a total loss with no insurance. You're a God-forsaken, spiritually and
emotionally starved, barren, mentally ossified, and completely monstrous mess. If I,
personally, never see either you or your planet again, that will be exactly twenty seven
minutes too soon. This girl here thinks the same of you as I do. If anybody else ever
hears of Lyrane and thinks he wants to visit it, I'll take him out of— I'll knock a hip down
on him if I have to, to keep him away from here. Do I make myself clear?"
"Oh, yet—perfectly!" she fairly squealed in school-girlish delight. The Lensman's
tirade, instead of infuriating her farther, had been sweet music to her peculiarly insular
mind. "Go, then, at once—hurry! Oh, please, hurry! Can you drive the car back to your
vessel, or will one of us have to go with you?"
"Thanks. I could drive your car, but it won't be necessary. The "copter will pick us
up."
He spoke to the watchful Ralph, then he and the Aldebaranian left the hall,
followed at a careful distance by the throng. The helicopter was on the ground, waiting.
The man and the woman climbed aboard.
"Clear ether, persons!" The Lensman waved a salute to the crowd and the
Tellurian craft shot into the air.
Thence to the Dauntless, which immediately did likewise, leaving behind her,
upon the little airport, a fused blob of metal that had once been the zwilnik's speedster.
Kinnison studied the white face of his captive, then handed her a tiny canister.
"Fresh battery for your thought-screen generator; yours is about shot." Since she
made no motion to accept it, he made the exchange himself and tested the result. It
worked. "What's the matter with you, kid, anyway? I'd say you were starved, if I hadn't
caught you at a full table."
"I am starved," the girl said, simply. "I couldn't eat there. I knew they were going
to kill me, and it . . . it sort of took away my appetite."
"Well, what are we waiting for? I'm hungry, too—let's go eat."
"Not with you, either, any more than with them. I thanked you, Lensman, for
saving my life there, and I meant it. I thought then and still think that I would rather have
you kill me than those horrible, monstrous women, but I simply can't eat."
"But I'm not even thinking of killing you—can't you get that through your skull? I
don't make war on women; you ought to know that by this time."
"You will have to." The girl's voice was low and level. "You didn't kill any of those
Lyranians, no, but you didn't chase them a million parsecs, either. We have been taught
ever since we were born that you Patrolmen always torture people to death. I don't quite
believe that of you personally, since I have had a couple of glimpses into your mind, but
you'll kill me before I'll talk. At least, I hope and I believe that I can hold out."
"Listen, girl." Kinnison was in deadly earnest. "You are in no danger whatever.
You are just as safe as though you were in Klono's hip pocket. You have some
information that I want, yes, and I will get it, but in the process I will
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