Children of the lens

by E. E. Smith

"Uh-huh," the Gray Lensman dissented. "There never was no court yet that didn't take orders from the big shots who kept the fat cats fat, and lawyers are the crookedest crooks in the whole Universe. You'll have to do better than that, pal."

"Well, then, how about a Lensman? You know about Lensmen, don't you?"

"A Lensman!" Kinnison gasped. He shook his head violently. "Are you completely nuts, or do you think I am? I do know Lensmen—a Lensman chased me from Alsakan to Vandemar once, and if I hadn't had a dose of Hell's own luck, he'd have got me. Lensmen chased me out of the First Galaxy—why else do you think I'm here? Use your brain, mister, use your brain!"

"You're thinking of Civilization's Lensmen—particularly of Gray Lensmen." The officer was manifestly enjoying Thyron's passion. "Ours—the Black Lensmen—are different—entirely different. They have as much power, or more, but they use it as it should be used. They work with us right along. In fact, they have been bumping Gray Lensmen off right and left lately."

"You mean that he could open up, for instance, your mind and mine, so that we could see that the other guy wasn't figuring on running in no stacked decks? And that he'd stand by and sort of referee this business deal we got on the fire? And do you know one yourself—personally?"

"He could, and would, do all that. Yes, I know one personally. His name is Melasnikov, and his office is on Kalonia III, not an hour's flit from here. He may not be there at the moment, but he will come in if I call. How about it—shall I call him now?"

"Don't work up a sweat. Sounds like it might work, if we can figure out an approach. I don't suppose that you and him would come out to me in space?"

"Hardly. After the way you have acted, you wouldn't expect us to, would you?"

"It wouldn't be very bright of you. And since I want to do business, I guess I got to meet you part way. How would this be? You pull your ships away, out of range. My ship takes station right above this here Lensman's office. I go down in my speedster, like I did here, and go inside to meet him and you. I'll wear my armor—and when I say it's real armor I ain't just snapping my choppers, neither."

"I can see only one slight flaw." The Boskonian was really trying to work out a mutually satisfactory solution. "The Lensman will open our minds to you in proof, however, that we will have no intention of bringing up our maulers or other heavy stuff while we are in conference."