Shortly thereafter another Patrol cruiser hove in sight. This meeting, however, was to be no casual one, for the nurse could not be inerted from the free state in the Dauntless" cocoon. No such device ever built could stand it—and those structures are stronger far than is the human frame. Any adjustment which even the hardest, toughest spacehound can take in a cocoon is measured in feet per second, not in miles.
Hundreds of miles apart, the ships inerted and their pilots fought with supreme skill to make the two intrinsics match. And even so the vessels did not touch, even nearly. A space–line was thrown; the nurse and her space–roll were quite unceremoniously hauled aboard.
Kinnison did not meet her at the airlock, but waited for her in his con room; and the details of that meeting will remain unchronicled. They were young, they had not seen each other for a long time, and they were very much in love. It is evident, therefore, that Patrol affairs were not the first matters to be touched upon. Nor, if the historian has succeeded even partially in portraying truly the characters of the two persons involved, is it either necessary or desirable to go at any length into the argument they had as to whether or not she should be inducted so cavalierly into a service from which her sex had always, automatically, been barred. He did not want to make her carry that load, but he had to; she did not—although for entirely different reasons—want to take it.
He shook out the Lens and, holding it in a thick–folded corner of the insulating blanket, flicked one of the girl's fingertips across the bracelet. Satisfied by the fleeting flash of color which swept across the jewel, he snapped the platinum–iridium band around her left wrist, which it fitted exactly.
She stared for a minute at the smoothly, rhythmically flowing colors of the thing so magically sprung to life upon her wrist; awe and humility in her glorious eyes. Then:
"I can't,. Kim. I simply can't. I'm not worthy of it," she choked.
"None of us are, Cris. We can't be—but we've got to do it, just the same."
"I suppose that's true—it would be so, of course…I'll do my best…but you know perfectly well, Kim, that I'm not—can't ever be—a real Lensman."
"Sure you can. Do we have to go over all that again? You won't have some of the technical stuff that we got, of course, but you carry jets that no other Lensman ever has had. You're a real Lensman; don't worry about that—if you weren't, do you think they would have made that Lens for you?"
"I suppose not…it must be true, even though I can't understand it. But I'm simply scared to death of the rest of it, Kim."
"You needn't be. It'll hurt, but not more than you can stand. Don't think we'd better start that stuff for a few days yet, though; not until you get used to using your Lens. Coming at you, Lensman!" and he went into Lens–to–Lens communication, broadening it gradually into a wide–open two–way. She was appalled at first, but entranced some thirty minutes later, when he called the lesson to a halt.
"Enough for now," he decided. "It doesn't take much of that stuff to be a great plenty, at first."
"I'll say it doesn't," she agreed. "Put this away for me until next time, will you, Kim? I don't want to wear it all the time until I know more about it."
"Fair enough. In the meantime I want you to get acquainted with a new girl– friend of mine," and he sent out a call for Illona Potter. "Girl– friend!"
"Uh–huh. Study her. Educational no end, and she may be important. Want to compare notes with you on her later, is why I'm not giving you any advance dope on her—here she comes."
"Mac, this is Illona," he introduced them informally. "I told them to give you the cabin next to hers," he added, to the nurse. "I'll go with you to be sure everything's on the green." It was, and the Lensman left the two together. "I'm awfully glad you're here," Illona said, shyly. "I've heard so much about you, Miss…"
"'Mac' to you, my dear—all my friends call me that," the nurse broke in. "And you don't want to believe everything you hear, especially aboard this space– bucket." Her lips smiled, but her eyes were faintly troubled.
"Oh, it was nice," Illona assured her. "About what a grand person you are, and what a wonderful couple you and Lensman Kinnison make—why, you really are in love with him, aren't you?" This in surprise, as she studied the nurse's face. "Yes," unequivocally. "And you love him, too, and that makes it…"
"Good heavens, no!" the Aldebaranian exclaimed, so positively that Clarrissa jumped.
"What? You don't? Really?" Gold–flecked, tawny eyes stared intensely into engagingly candid eyes of black. The nurse wished then that she had left her Lens on, so she could tell whether this bejeweled brunette hussy was telling the truth or not.
"Certainly not. That's what I meant—I'm simply scared to death of him. He's so…well, so overpowering—he's so much more—tremendous—than I am. I didn't see how any girl could possibly love him—but I understand now how you could, perhaps. You're sort of—terrific—yourself, you know. I feel as though I ought to call you 'Your Magnificence' instead of just plain 'Mac'."
"Why, I'm no such thing!" Clarrissa exclaimed; but she softened noticeably, none the less. "And I think that I'm going to like you a lot."
"Oh…h…h—honestly?" Illona squealed. "It sounds too good to be true, you're so marvelous. But if you do, I think that Civilization will be everything that I've been afraid—so afraid—that it couldn't possibly be!"
No longer was it a feminine Lensman investigating a female zwilnik; it was two girls—two young, intensely alive, human girls—who chattered on and on.
Days passed. Clarrissa learned some of the uses of her Lens. Then Kimball Kinnison, Second–Stage Lensman, began really to bear down. Since such training has been described in detail elsewhere, it need be said here only that Clarrissa MacDougall had mental capacity enough to take it without becoming insane. He suffered as much as she did; after every mental bout he was as spent as she was; but both of them stuck relentlessly to it.
He did not make a Second Stage Lensman of her, of course. He couldn't. Much of the stuff was too hazy yet; more of it did not apply. He gave her everything, however, which she could handle and which would be of any use to her in the work she was to do; including the sense of perception. He did it, that is, with a modicum of help; for, once or twice, when he faltered or weakened, not knowing exactly what to do or not being quite able to do it, a stronger mind than his was always there.
At length, approaching Tellus fast, the nurse and Kinnison had a final conference; the consultation of two Lensmen settling the last details of procedure in a long–planned and highly important campaign.
"I agree with you that Lyrane II is a key planet," she was saying, thoughtfully. "It must be, to have those .expeditions from Lonabar and the as yet unknown planet 'X' centering there."
"'X' certainly, and don't forget the possibility of 'Y' and 'Z' and maybe others," he reminded her. "The Lyrane–Lonabar linkage is the only one we're sure of. With you on one end of that and me on the other, it'll be funny if we can't trace out some more. While I'm building up an authentic identity to tackle Bleeko, you'll be getting chummy with Helen of Lyrane. That's about as far ahead as we can plan definitely right now, since this groundwork can't be hurried too much."
"And I report to you often—frequently, in fact." Clarrissa widened her expressive eyes at her man.