Once more, in an infinitesimal tick of time, the galaxy was crossed and the void of the Universe penetrated almost to the end of infinity, where the curtain of the next existence hung. Once more Eichwoor, like smoke blown through gauze, slipped beyond and hovered there. Kallatra halted on this side. 24of6 did not. He did not hesitate; he glided through and struck Eichwoor, floating on the other side, and they both vanished.
Worsel's mind whirled backward in a long, spiraling return journey, sucked along in the wake of Kallatra. He was again in his body, eye stalks relaxed, muscles soothed, all pain gone. "Deuce is dead," Kallatra said, listlessly. "He crossed over.
His life force is gone from our world. He'll never be back. But neither will the Eich"
Kallatra moved what was now her prosthedon, her Lens flickering through the transparent window in the domed casing. Kallatra's transference was entirely successful, but she wasn't jubilant. "It's all over."
"Not quite," said Worsel. "There may be a Black Lensman."
"I think not,"' Kallatra said. The girl ceased all transmissions, totally exhausted. Worsel listened to the unaccustomed silence in the room and felt at peace for the first time in a long time.
"No, I must agree, there isn't," Worsel told himself. He let the compartments of his brain argue the idea until he finally decided upon his conclusion "There is no Black Lensman.
There never was such a forthright enemy-understandably misled, misguided, mistaken.
That was our imagination. A Black Lensman was our attempt to explain the inexplicable.
And Eichwoor fed the delusion. There was only the Lensman illusion of the Lnman-Fiend-vicious, depraved, evil." Worsel played back that statement in his mind, reviewed it, and decided it was right. During this time he had gathered up the remains of the girl's body, shaped it and wrapped it in one of the sheets. He did the same with the lump of flesh that had been 24of6, checking to see if the Lens was dead to confirm that 24of6 had not somehow survived. That Lens indeed was dead and disintegrating. He left it alone to vaporize into nothingness. He stowed the grisly items in his speedster and called Kinnison.
The good news far outweighed the bad news. Kinnison was sorry to hear about Deuce O'Sx. He was astounded to hear of a ghostly Eich. But he was elated about the banishment of the Eich and the fact that there was no such a thing as an enemy Lensman, be he Black, Boskonian, zwilnik or otherwise. He wanted to convey his personal thanks and good wishes to Lalla Kallatra, but her brain was dormant in its shell, still in a recharging state of sleep.
"Deuce's death knocks me for a loop, Worsel," Kinnison said. "I liked that bucket of bolts for the genuine human qualities he somehow managed to retain. As for Lalla, by Klono, she may not be the youngest Lensman, male or female, around, but she'll be the youngest around with Patrol Honors, you can bet! We'll fix her up with the finest new body we can make, that's a promise."
"Speaking of bodies, Kinnison, my friend," Worsel said. "It will take a while, but we'll see Lalla Kallatra again as we know her. She would have had a hand regeneration. Instead, there's a more ambitious opportunity. With the Council's approval, I propose to clone a body for Lalla Kallatra."
"Wow!" Kinnison exclaimed. "What a superb ideal That means a future brain pattern transference. Has it ever been done? Who will do it? Who will grow the clone? Does Lalla approve? I would think so. Can the Red Lensman be of help?"
"Hold on, hold on, Kim," Worsel said. "I don't know all the answers yet. But I think a body can be grown without another brain, as one would grow an organ or an appendage. It could be engineered, improved. Male instead of female. Then there would be a brain transplant. Or perhaps there could be a more direct symbiotic growth, old brain blending into developing body. The time factor can be reduced to maybe a year or two. I'm sure the Dyaddub lab can handle either case."
"Count on me," Kinnison said. "We'll do the best for her, based on her choice. The important thing for everyone is to keep that brain of hers alive and healthy and well guarded. We need her psychic mastery. The welfare of Civilization may depend on her.
And, personally, I'm rooting for her to be a lovely young lady again. Meanwhile, Worsel, all this is under Lensman's Seal. You, me, Kallatra, anybody connected with this project.
QX?".
"Agreed," Worsel said.
"Only two others ought to know right now, Treg and Nadreck. Do you agree with this, too?" Within minutes of Worsel's approval, Tregonsee had responded with an acknowl- edgment, congratulations and good wishes.
Nadreck was next, with his typical impersonal, all-business attitude. "I have attempted to trace Eichwoor's frequency, but it does not exist. I am sure you had this remarkable experience, Worsel, and that it was not one of your hallucinations. However, nothing I have been asked to check out leads to anything. I can register no facts. Naturally I cannot verify that there was no Black Lensman. I cannot verify that there ever was or will be one. I cannot find a lensman-Fiend and respectfully point out that you initiated the term, not Mentor. I am happy, however, to be able to report thus in the negative.
"As for your psychic activities," the Palainian Lensman said, in his peculiarly gloomy way, "they intrigue me. As I cannot prove such a place exists, I do not believe a threat can come from there. Nevertheless, I will do some serious thinking about it. Personally, I do not believe in ghosts. This is especially significant, may I point out, inasmuch as so many of your fellow oxygen-breathers keep mistaking me for one."
Kinnison laughed at the humorous idea. Worsel wondered.
Kallatra, who was just stirring to wakefulness in an unfamiliar body, caught the drift of the discussion. She didn't wonder about the reality of ghosts-she wondered about how one went about killing a ghost when a ghost is already dead.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR.
David A. Kyle's experience in writing science fiction goes back to the "Golden Age" of the late 1930s when "Doc" Smith's works were setting the style for all others. For some years, Mr. Kyle confined himself to radio broadcasting (he owns one New York State station and is associated with several others), and then lived abroad. He has now returned to writing full time. His most recent book is Science Fiction and the World. Mr.
Kyle was a close personal friend of "Doc" Smith. During Smith's lifetime, the two discussed future stories in the "Lensman" series (considered the most famous series in the history of science fiction). Some of the concepts discussed are embodied in The Dragon Lensman.