First Lensman, E. E. Smith [top 100 novels of all time .txt] 📗

in any symbology known to our science; and it is about an even more inexplicable⁠—call it ‘hunch’ if you like⁠—that I asked to have a talk with you today.”

“But you are arguing in circles,” Samms protested. “Or are you trying to set up a paradox?”

“Neither. I am merely clearing the way for a somewhat startling thing I am to say later on. You know, of course, that any situation with which a mind is unable to cope; a really serious dilemma which it cannot resolve; will destroy that mind⁠—frustration, escape from reality, and so on. You also will realize that I must have become cognizant of my own peculiarities long before anyone else did or could?”

“Ah. I see. Yes, of course.” Samms, intensely interested, leaned forward. “Yet your present personality is adequately, splendidly integrated. How could you possibly have overcome⁠—reconciled⁠—a situation so full of conflict?”

“You are, I think, familiar with my parentage?” Samms, keen as he was, did not consider it noteworthy that the big Norwegian answered his question only by asking one of his own.

“Yes⁠ ⁠… oh, I’m beginning to see⁠ ⁠… but Commissioner Kinnison has not had access to your dossier. Go ahead.”

“My father is Dr. Hjalmar Bergenholm. My mother, before her marriage, was Dr. Olga Bjornson. Both were, and are, nuclear physicists⁠—very good ones. Pioneers, they have been called. They worked, and are still working, in the newest, outermost fringes of the field.”

“Oh!” Kinnison exclaimed. “A mutant? Born with second sight⁠—or whatever it is?”

“Not second sight, as history describes the phenomenon, no. The records do not show that any such faculty was ever demonstrated to the satisfaction of any competent scientific investigator. What I have is something else. Whether or not it will breed true is an interesting topic of speculation, but one having nothing to do with the problem now in hand. To return to the subject, I resolved my dilemma long since. There is, I am absolutely certain, a science of the mind which is as definite, as positive, as immutable of law, as is the science of the physical. While I will make no attempt to prove it to you, I know that such a science exists, and that I was born with the ability to perceive at least some elements of it.

“Now to the matter of the meteor of the Patrol. That emblem was and is purely physical. The pirates have just as able scientists as we have. What physical science can devise and synthesize, physical science can analyze and duplicate. There is a point, however, beyond which physical science cannot go. It can neither analyze nor imitate the tangible products of that which I have so loosely called the science of the mind.

“I know, Councillor Samms, what the Triplanetary Service needs; something vastly more than its meteor. I also know that the need will become greater and greater as the sphere of action of the Patrol expands. Without a really efficient symbol, the Solarian Patrol will be hampered even more than the Triplanetary Service; and its logical extension into the Space Patrol, or whatever that larger organization may be called, will be definitely impossible. We need something which will identify any representative of Civilization, positively and unmistakably, wherever he may be. It must be impossible of duplication, or even of imitation, to which end it must kill any unauthorized entity who attempts imposture. It must operate as a telepath between its owner and any other living intelligence, of however high or low degree, so that mental communication, so much clearer and faster than physical, will be possible without the laborious learning of language; or between us and such peoples as those of Rigel Four or of Palain Seven, both of whom we know to be of high intelligence and who must already be conversant with telepathy.”

“Are you or have you been, reading my mind?” Samms asked quietly.

“No,” Bergenholm replied flatly. “It is not and has not been necessary. Any man who can think, who has really considered the question, and who has the good of Civilization at heart, must have come to the same conclusions.”

“Probably so, at that. But no more side issues. You have a solution of some kind worked out, or you would not be here. What is it?”

“It is that you, Solarian Councillor Samms, should go to Arisia as soon as possible.”

“Arisia!” Samms exclaimed, and:

“Arisia! Of all the hells in space, why Arisia? And how can we make the approach? Don’t you know that nobody can get anywhere near that damn planet?”

Bergenholm shrugged his shoulders and spread both arms wide in a pantomime of complete helplessness.

“How do you know⁠—another of your hunches?” Kinnison went on. “Or did somebody tell you something? Where did you get it?”

“It is not a hunch,” the Norwegian replied, positively. “No one told me anything. But I know⁠—as definitely as I know that the combustion of hydrogen in oxygen will yield water⁠—that the Arisians are very well versed in that which I have called the science of the mind; that if Virgil Samms goes to Arisia he will obtain the symbol he needs; that he will never obtain it otherwise. As to how I know these things⁠ ⁠… I can’t⁠ ⁠… I just⁠ ⁠… I know it, I tell you!”

Without another word, without asking permission to leave, Bergenholm whirled around and hurried out. Samms and Kinnison stared at each other.

“Well?” Kinnison asked, quizzically.

“I’m going. Now. Whether I can be spared or not, and whether you think I’m out of control or not. I believe him, every word⁠—and besides, there’s the Bergenholm. How about you? Coming?”

“Yes. Can’t say that I’m sold one hundred percent; but, as you say, the Bergenholm is a hard fact to shrug off. And at minimum rating, it’s got to be tried. What are you taking? Not a fleet, probably⁠—the Boise? Or the Chicago?” It was the Commissioner of Public Safety speaking now, the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces. “The Chicago, I’d say⁠—the fastest and strongest thing in space.”

“Recommendation approved. Blastoff; twelve hundred hours tomorrow!”