"I have thought of that, a great deal, and have...."
"Because Olmstead can not do it," a hitherto silent mind cut in, decisively. "I, Rularion of North Polar Jupiter, say so. There are psychological factors involved. The ability to separate and to evaluate the constituent elements of a complex situation; the ability to make correct decisions without hesitation; as well as many others not as susceptible to concise statement, but which collectively could be called power of mind. How say you, Bergenholm of Tellus? For I have perceived in you a mind approximating in some respects the philosophical and psychological depth of my own." This outrageously egotistical declaration was, to the Jovian, a simple statement of an equally simple truth, and Bergenholm accepted it as such.
"I agree. Olmstead probably could not succeed."
"Well, then, can Samms?" Kinnison demanded.
"Who knows?" came Bergenholm's mental shrug, and simultaneously:
"Nobody knows whether I can or not, but I am going to try," and Samms ended—almost—the argument by asking Bergenholm and a couple of other Lensmen to come into his office and by taking off his Lens.
"And that's another thing I don't like." Kinnison offered one last objection. "Without your Lens, anything can happen to you."
"Oh, I won't have to be without it very long. And besides, Virgilia isn't the only one in the Samms family who can work better—sometimes—without a Lens."
The Lensmen came in and, in a surprisingly short time, went out. A few minutes later, two Lensmen strolled out of Samms' inner office into the outer one.
"Good-bye, George," the red-headed man said aloud, "and good luck."