First Lensman - E. E. Smith (nonfiction book recommendations .txt) 📗

that shop. “The real difficulties lie in the fine detail, such as the length, mass, and exact place and position of landing, upon apron or floor, of each of your hairs as it is severed. Many factors are involved. Other clients passing by⁠—opening and shutting doors⁠—air currents⁠—sunshine⁠—wind⁠—pressure, temperature, humidity. The exact fashion in which the barber will flick his shears, which in turn depends upon many other factors⁠—what he will have been doing previously, what he will have eaten and drunk, whether or not his home life will have been happy⁠ ⁠… you little realize, youth, what a priceless opportunity this will be for me to check the accuracy of my visualization. I shall spend many periods upon the problem. I cannot attain perfect accuracy, of course. Ninety nine point nine nines percent, let us say⁠ ⁠… or perhaps ten nines⁠ ⁠… is all that I can reasonably expect.⁠ ⁠…”

“But, Mentor!” Samms protested. “I can’t help you on a thing like that! How can I know or report the exact mass, length, and orientation of single hairs?”

“You cannot; but, since you will be wearing your Lens, I myself can and will compare minutely my visualization with the actuality. For know, youth, that wherever any Lens is, there can any Arisian be if he so desires. And now, knowing that fact, and from your own knowledge of the satisfactions to be obtained from chess and other such mental activities, and from the glimpses you have had into my own mind, do you retain any doubts that we Arisians will be fully compensated for the trifling effort involved in furnishing whatever number of Lenses may be required?”

“I have no more doubts. But this Lens⁠ ⁠… I’m getting more afraid of it every minute. I see that it is a perfect identification; I can understand that it can be a perfect telepath. But is it something else, as well? If it has other powers⁠ ⁠… what are they?”

“I cannot tell you; or, rather, I will not. It is best for your own development that I do not, except in the most general terms. It has additional qualities, it is true; but, since no two entities ever have the same abilities, no two Lenses will ever be of identical qualities. Strictly speaking, a Lens has no real power of its own; it merely concentrates, intensifies, and renders available whatever powers are already possessed by its wearer. You must develop your own powers and your own abilities; we of Arisia, in furnishing the Lens, will have done everything that we should do.”

“Of course, sir; and much more than we have any right to expect. You have given me a Lens for Roderick Kinnison; how about the others? Who is to select them?”

“You are, for a time.” Silencing the man’s protests, Mentor went on: “You will find that your judgment will be good. You will send to us only one entity who will not be given a Lens, and it is necessary that that one entity should be sent here. You will begin a system of selection and training which will become more and more rigorous as time goes on. This will be necessary; not for the selection itself, which the Lensmen themselves could do among babies in their cradles, but because of the benefits thus conferred upon the many who will not graduate, as well as upon the few who will. In the meantime you will select the candidates; and you will be shocked and dismayed when you discover how few you will be able to send.

“You will go down in history as First Lensman Samms; the Crusader, the man whose wide vision and tremendous grasp made it possible for the Galactic Patrol to become what it is to be. You will have highly capable help, of course. The Kinnisons, with their irresistible driving force, their indomitable will to do, their transcendent urge; Costigan, back of whose stout Irish heart lie Erin’s best of brains and brawn; your cousins George and Ray Olmstead; your daughter Virgilia.⁠ ⁠…”

“Virgilia! Where does she fit into this picture? What do you know about her⁠—and how?”

“A mind would be incompetent indeed who could not visualize, from even the most fleeting contact with you, a fact which has been in existence for some twenty three of your years. Her doctorate in psychology; her intensive studies under Martian and Venerian masters⁠—even under one reformed Adept of North Polar Jupiter⁠—of the involuntary, uncontrollable, almost unknown and hence highly revealing muscles of the face, the hands, and other parts of the human body. You will remember that poker game for a long time.”

“I certainly will.” Samms grinned, a bit shamefacedly. “She gave us clear warning of what she was going to do, and then cleaned us out to the last millo.”

“Naturally. She has, all unconsciously, been training herself for the work she is destined to do. But to resume; you will feel yourself incompetent, unworthy⁠—that, too, is a part of a Lensman’s Load. When you first scan the mind of Roderick Kinnison you will feel that he, not you, should be the prime mover in the Galactic Patrol. But know now that no mind, not even the most capable in the universe, can either visualize truly or truly evaluate itself. Commissioner Kinnison, upon scanning your mind as he will scan it, will know the truth and will be well content. But time presses; in one minute you leave.”

“Thanks a lot⁠ ⁠… thanks.” Samms got to his feet and paused, hesitantly. “I suppose that it will be all right⁠ ⁠… that is, I can call on you again, if⁠ ⁠… ?”

“No,” the Arisian declared, coldly. “My visualization does not indicate that it will ever again be either necessary or desirable for you to visit or to communicate with me or with any other Arisian.”

Communication ceased as though a solid curtain had been drawn between the two. Samms strode out and stepped into the waiting vehicle, which whisked him back to his lifeboat. He blasted off; arriving in the control room of the Chicago precisely at