The Greatest Works of E. E. Smith. E. E. Smith

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СКАЧАТЬ and all, isn’t enough to do by force what’s got to be done, and even two men is too many to do it in the only way it can be done. You see, sir .”

      “No explanations, please. It’s on the spool, where we can get it if we need it. Are you informed as to the latest developments?”

      “No, sir. I heard a little coming in, but not much.”

      “We are almost back where we were before you took off in the first Brittania. Commerce is almost at a standstill. All shipping firms are practically idle, but that is neither all of it nor the worst of it. You may not realize how important interstellar trade is; but as a result of its stoppage general business has slowed down tremendously. As is only to be expected, perhaps, complaints are coming in by the thousand because we have not already blasted the pirates out of space, and demands that we do so at once. They do not understand the true situation, nor realize that we are doing everything we can. We cannot send a mauler with every freighter and liner, and mauler-escorted vessels are the only ones to arrive at their destinations.”

      “But why? With tractor shears on all ships, how can they hold them?” asked Kinnison.

      “Magnets!” snorted Haynes. “Plain, old-fashioned electromagnets. No pull to speak of, at a distance, of course, but with the raider running free they don’t need much. Close up—lock on—board and storm—all done!”

      “Hm . . m . . m. That changes things. I’ve got to find a pirate ship. I was planning on following a freighter or liner out toward Alsakan, but if there aren’t any to follow . I’ll have to hunt around .”

      “That is easily arranged. Lots of them want to go. We will let one go, with a mauler accompanying her, but well outside detector range.”

      “That covers everything, then, except the assignment. I can’t very well ask for leave, but maybe I could be put on special assignment, reporting direct to you?”

      “Something better than that,” and Haynes smiled broadly, in genuine pleasure. “Everything is fixed. Your Release has been entered in the books. Your commission as captain has been cancelled, so leave your uniform in your former quarters. Here is your credit book and here is the rest of your kit. You are now an Unattached Lensman.”

      The Release! The goal toward which all Lensmen strive, but which so few attain! He was now a free agent, responsible to no one and to nothing save his own conscience. He was no longer of Earth, nor of the Solarian System, but of the galaxy as a whole. He was no longer a tiny cog in the immense machine of the Galactic Patrol; wherever he might go, throughout the immensity of the entire Island Universe, he would be the Galactic Patrol!

      “Yes, it’s real.” The older man was enjoying the youngster’s stupefaction at his Release, reminding him as it did of the time, long years before, when he had won his own. “You go anywhere you please and do anything you please, for as long as you please. You take anything you want, whenever you want it, with or without giving reasons—although you will usually give a thumb-printed credit slip in return. You report if, as, when, where, how, and to whom you please—or not, as you please. You don’t even get a salary any more. You help yourself to that, too, wherever you may be; as much as you want, whenever you want it.”

      “But, sir . . . I . you . . . I mean . that is .” Kinnison gulped three times before he could speak coherently. “I’m not ready, sir. Why, I’m nothing but a kid—I haven’t got enough jets to swing it. Just the bare thought of it scares me into hysterics!”

      “It would—it always does.” Haynes was very much in earnest now, but it was a glad, proud earnestness. “You are to be as nearly absolutely free an agent as it is possible for a living, flesh-and-blood creature to be. To the man on the street that would seem to spell a condition of perfect bliss. Only a Gray Lensman knows what a frightful load it really is; but it is a load that such a Lensman is glad and proud to carry.”

      “Yes, sir, he would be, of course, if he .”

      “That thought will bother you for a time—if it did not, you would not be here—but don’t worry about it any more than you can help. All I can say is that in the opinion of those who should know, not only have you proved yourself ready for Release, but also you have earned it.”

      “How do they figure that out?” Kinnison demanded, hotly. “All that saved my bacon on that trip was luck—a burned-out Bergenholm—and at the time I thought it was bad luck, at that. And vanBuskirk and Worsel and the other boys and the Lord knows who else pulled me out of jam after jam. I’d like awfully well to believe that I’m ready, sir, but I’m not. I can’t take credit for pure dumb luck and for other men’s abilities.”

      “Well, cooperation is to be expected, and we like to make Gray Lensmen out of the lucky ones.” Haynes laughed deeply. “It may make you feel better, though, if I tell you two more things. First, that so far you have made the best showing of any man yet graduated from Wentworth Hall. Second, that we of the Court believe that you would have succeeded in that almost impossible mission without vanBuskirk, without Worsel, and without the lucky failure of the Bergenholm. In a different, and now of course unguessable fashion, but succeeded, nevertheless. Nor is this to be taken as in any sense a belittlement of the very real abilities of those others, nor a denial that luck, or chance, does exist. It is merely our recognition of the fact that you have what it takes to be an Unattached Lensman.

      “Seal it now, and buzz off!” he commanded, as Kinnison tried to say something; and, clapping him on the shoulder, he turned him around and gave him a gentle shove toward the door. “Clear ether, lad!”

      “Same to you, sir—all of it there is. I still think that you and all the rest of the Court are cockeyed; but I’ll try not to let you down,” and the newly unattached Lensman blundered out. He stumbled over the threshold, bumped against a stenographer who was hurrying along the corridor, and almost barged into the jamb of the entrance door instead of going through the opening. Outside he regained his physical poise and walked on air toward his quarters; but he never could remember afterward what he did or whom he met on that long, fast hike. Over and over the one thought pounded in his brain: unattached! Unattached!! UNATTACHED!!!

      And behind him, in the Port Admiral’s office, that high official sat and mused, smiling faintly with lips and eyes, staring unseeingly at the still open doorway through which Kinnison had staggered. The boy had measured up in every particular. He would be a good man. He would marry. He did not think so now, of course—in his own mind his life was consecrate—but he would. If necessary, the Patrol itself would see to it that he did. There were ways, and such stock was altogether too good not to be propagated. And, fifteen years from now—if he lived—when he was no longer fit for the grinding, grueling life to which he now looked forward so eagerly, he would select the Earth-bound job for which he was best fitted and would become a good executive. For such were the executives of the Patrol. But this day-dreaming was getting him nowhere, fast: he shook himself and plunged again into his work.

      Kinnison reached his quarters at last, realizing with a thrill that they were no longer his. He now had no quarters, no residence, no address. Wherever he might be, throughout the whole of illimitable space, there was his home. But, instead of being dismayed by the thought of the life he faced, he was filled by a fierce eagerness to be actually living it.

      There was a tap at his door and an orderly entered, carrying a bulky package.

      “Your Grays, sir,” he announced, with a crisp salute.

      “Thanks.” Kinnison returned the salute as smartly; and, almost before the door had closed, he was yanking off the space-black-and-silver-and-gold gorgeousness of the uniform he wore.

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