Pseudonymus-Observer Report: Universe Sector 0081422-Introducing an Anachronism

by Pseudonymus, Call Sign: Alpha-Echo-Gamma-42179

(Transcribed from the Original Memory Report by Guthrie Prentice, contact in Universe Sector 0057alpha.)

Introduction:

This analysis and the attached memory files highlight a particular problem that we may have overlooked in our attempting to approach other type 5 civilizations when exposing them to our difficulties, the multiverse at large, and the precepts to which we hold. While many of them, as with the four great alliances of type 5 civilizations we've been a part of over the past several hundred thousand zarnaks, understand that multiverse travel and communication requires the incorporation of all dimensions as a physical direction we must take into account, or at least they do in some form, there are some type 5 entities who do not have the slightest notion of how vulnerable they are, despite the fact that they are operating outside a universal level.

Take, for example, this particular incident. The lack of understanding displayed here shows a clear blind spot that if not addressed, can overwhelm any inter-dimensional group, and it is one we should be watching all the more carefully for, as we are attempting to counter entities that emerged from 26 dimensional space. If this group can overlook the “fourth dimension's” importance, then perhaps we, and other allies who may help us, can be blindsided by yet another dimension's directions or permutations that we have overlooked, and potentially get ourselves and everyone who rely on us, killed permanently. In accordance with article 15 of the Inter-dimensional Sentient Rights Proclamation, we cannot afford to set a bad example for other sentient species. At the end of this report, there will be potential solutions that can be explored to address this problem in future.

Codex 1:

It started immediately after I was released from Universe Sector 002517442 and my extended temporal research project had been completed. I was on my way back to my safe haven in Universe Sector ??113, when, much to my surprise, I wound up in what appeared to be the control room of a spaceship. Upon entering the universe line, I was promptly tossed straight into the bulkhead of the control room with such force that I was lucky that I only felt two ribs crack.

I sunk to the floor, grunting in pain. No sooner had I done this, then an elderly gentleman, in gray overalls who had been at the controls promptly turned around and came over to me asking, “Are you alright?”

“No, I'm not,” I said through labored breathing. “I think something's broken and I'm feeling very dizzy.”

“Well, let's get you down to the sick-bay and get you patched up,” said the gray clad man. Then, he took a good look at me, and I felt something touch my mind. “Hang on,” he said both in words and in my head. “You're not from my crew. From what I can tell, wait, there's two minds at work in this body.” At this he whipped out what looked like a very odd laser pistol and said, “My micro-projector is aimed at you, don't move a muscle.” He then proceeded to go silent and his expression changed and the force disappeared from my mind.

It was at about this point the pain was seriously starting to get to me, but through the blur that was starting to develop over my vision, I could see multiple soldiers come in including a sort of lizard/dragon/snake like looking figure come in. They restrained me, and something got injected into my arm. Everything went dark.

Codex 2:

When I came to, I was lying attached to a bed, still feeling very hazy, and like I was floating in and out of reality. I tried to move and couldn't. Then I noticed that my wrists felt a little off, and moved my head to see that both my wrist computer and Casimir shield were gone. I could still feel the connection to my currently assigned hypersphere, which suggested that at least the wrist computer hadn't been damaged in any way, shape, or form.

At this point, the same elderly gentleman in gray overalls walked in and said, “OK. So here's what's going to happen. You're being shipped to Arisia on Mentor's orders. Of course, your medical treatment and return of your items will be contingent on how you answer my questions and how well you cooperate.”

At this point, a memory clicked from my previous host body. I remembered growing up as a kid in Universe Sector 0025 reading old classic books from decades before I was born, and some of them were from something called the Lensman series. It was also at this moment I realized something was off. I tried to access the hypersphere network via direct mental contact to see whether or not the High Committee had any knowledge pertaining to the Lensman Universe Sector, but got no response back. That either meant that there was no information, or my mental link was starting to suffer without my wrist computer physically on my person to help maintain the connection to my hypersphere.

I responded shakily through the haze, “OK. I know who Mentor and the Arisians are. I also know that your refusal to give me medical treatment is behavior unbecoming of what I assume is a Gray Lensman. Mentor would tell you the same.”

The Gray clad man shook his head, “Mentor has explicitly told us that anyone showing up inexplicably and under mind control is another Boskonian agent.”

“Hang on, when are we?” I asked. “I thought Boskonia had been defeated.”

The Gray clad man back handed me. “Silence Boskonian! I ask the questions here,” he said. “Now you will allow me to probe your mind and answer my questions. Or otherwise, I'll ignore what Mentor said and kill you here and now!”

My head was reeling, both from the haze of my faulty connection, the hit, and most of all, from the fact that this was completely opposite to everything that I remembered reading that civilization and the Galactic Patrol stood for. How could a lensman act so ruthlessly? So violently? No, this was down and out cruelty. Unfortunately, all this was too much for me, so I dropped unconscious again.

Codex 3:

When I came to yet again, I was on a planet's surface in front of an old Chinese gentleman. He took a look at me and smiled, saying, “Interesting. I have used all my power of mind, and I know I have

blocked the non-human mind, yet there still remain two minds in your head. This must be some new Boskonian trick my vision of the Cosmic All did not foresee.”I took a sense and couldn't even feel my hypersphere. At this rate, I knew how this could go. I had less than half an hour to live. Without the hypersphere connection, I would not receive the full dimensional access I needed and would die of information atrophy in a very short period.

I responded saying, “Let's cut through this charade. I know that as Mentor, you are a four ply fusion of Drounli, Kriedigan, Nedanillor, and Brolenteen. I also know that the Boskonians should have been defeated by now, which also means that you are not actually Mentor, but Kimball and Clarissa Kinnison's children, the Children of the Lens. I also know that the Galactic Patrol doesn't kill people needlessly. I will die in a few minutes unless my connection is made again. Please, grant me back my wrist device and my higher dimensional connection at least.” There was desperation and a tremor in my voice as I pleaded with them. I could already start to feel my breath slowing and I was sweating profusely, knowing that I was about to die.

At this, a man and four women materialized where the Chinese man once stood, and all of a sudden, my wrist computer was back on my left wrist. I could feel my head starting to clear. As soon as I had a breath, I promptly stood, with what little strength I had, hit a button on the wrist device, and made the purple dimensional pocket appear. I collapsed my hypersphere into 3 dimensional space and yelled, “This is Pseudonymus, Call Sign: Alpha-Echo-Gamma-42179 requesting backup assistance!”

I felt a force flow through me and I knelt down. A deep voice spoke through me as a flash of white light burst from around me, and I stood wearing two sets of angelic looking wings and said, “By Objective Reality, I am the Mystic Avenger, Inter-space Adventurer Extraordinaire! As you are in violation of Article 1 of the Inter-dimensional Sentient Rights Proclamation, I will hereby restrain you and take you for processing.”

The young man snorted and said, “I've already seen into your mind, and you don't have enough power to match us.”

“No, but I do,” said an even deeper voice as the sets of angelic wings grew from two to four, and I felt a presence take over my body and integrate with my mind that all Observers knew of, but few had ever directly interacted with. “I am Flux. And I must ask you, why do you torture one of our own?”

At this, what looked like a giant contact lens spread out in front of the Children of the Lens, and a bolt of raw energy struck me. However, my mind fused with Flux, and all of a sudden, I felt, inexplicably, the energy redirected through another dimension, and straight into my hypersphere completely recharging it after a micro power surge. Flux spoke again, but not through my mouth this time.

“Ah, Pseudonymus confirmed my suspicions it seems,” he thought at the Children. “I should have put better safety protocols on that conversion node to 26 dimensional space-time I was experimenting with.”

“You block our power? You must be the next threat against our universe,” thought the Children's fusion, the Unit.

Flux shook my head. “The threat that is affecting is far, far more dangerous than the Eddorians were. And when I tracked the energy back, I was afraid this might happen. Your time-line has been shifted, which is in part why you and the Galactic Patrol are now so cruel.”

The Unit snorted, “Don't be absurd! This is the way things have always been. Only through strength can Civilization be defended,” and they proceeded to fire another bolt of mental energy. Flux at this point took the bolt in full, but held onto it, and opened his mind to the fusion. He showed them the memories that both he and I knew from the reading. He showed how they originally defeated the Eddorians, and more importantly, the reason why. From reading their mind, he saw something, then stopped.

“I see where the discrepancy is,” he said. “The time-line has been changed from when you, Kit, went under the thought screens to investigate the Eddorians, prior to their final defeat. Apparently while you were under mental attack from all of Eddore, that's when the Unknown Manipulation Ray got hold of you and started festering. Now that it's what, two centuries later? There's been enough time for it to fester in your fusion. Haven't you wondered as time went on where the cruel thoughts inexplicably came from?”

At this, the Unit's fusion broke apart. One of the women, whom flux told me was Constance, said, “OK. From what we can tell, you genuinely at least believe what you're speaking. If there really was an offset to our time-line, then Civilization has gotten off on the wrong track and you're mentioning a new threat? Also, what was this we saw about closed time-like curves?”

Flux spoke through me by voice and said, “Part of the problem is that apparently you don't have a sense that as you cross through the multiverse, if you hit the right combination of higher dimensions, you can actually travel backwards or forwards in time relative to where you are. The threat we Observers face, which we call the Unknown, are beings who do one step worse than us. They apparently can sit outside of time, and literally manipulate entire universes such that civilizations collapse. Then they harvest the universes for all available matter and energy. Your perception sense would normally have perceived the enemy incoming, but you only have a 5 dimensional perception of the multiverse. We Observers perceive 11 dimensions at present, and we know that there are 26 from mathematical extrapolation and indirect evidence, though we cannot directly perceive them.”

Kit Kinnison at this point spoke and said, “So how do you propose we handle this issue?”

“There's only one method,” said Flux. “We will need to reintegrate you back in time to reset the time-line more effectively.”

“Will we know of these events afterward?” said Camilla, one of the others. “And what of our children that have come in the past two centuries?”

“If you allow us, we will reintegrate all of your consciousnesses when they are properly reborn into a universe line that you all much more would have desired,” said the Mystic Avenger, chiming in. “All we need to do is upload your consciousnesses to the hypersphere network. You will be set back in time, back to a few moments before you first formed the Unit and defeated Eddore. Hopefully, by reintegrating, with memories of knowing that a manipulation ray was festering in your consciousness and causing you to mislead Civilization, you'll be able to neutralize it with sheer mental will, and figure out how to handle the threat next time.”

Kit smiled, “Alright,” he said. “Since what you've shown us does indicate that traditional L3 thought isn't sufficient to handle the next threat, we accept your help. We have to ask what's the catch

though?”

“The catch is that we'll need the help of Civilization to start looking for irrationality spreading throughout its system, just like with Eddore,” I said. “However, it will be far more insidious. Also, check for inexplicable time dilation fields. If the local dimensions you normally perceive appear fine, yet time appears to get dilated, distorted or shifted, and that couples with inexplicable irrationality, it means the Unknown are hiding and attempting to destroy your civilization by manipulating it and your history. You will also want to develop a successor group who can perceive time as a spatial dimension. The sooner you can get that, the sooner you can help us Observers have an extra set of people looking at the Unknown and attempting to expose them. We need all the help we can get.”

At this point, the Unit reformed, and thought, “May we fuse with you so as to access this network of yours?”

“Gladly,” I said. At that, the bodies collapsed as a 5-ply fusion of minds merged with mine, Flux's and the Mystic Avenger's. I have never had so many minds occupying one brain at the same time. It was fascinating, a little horrifying, and causing me a searing headache feeling like my head was about to burst. I hit the button on the wrist device, and there was a gunshot as we left the Universe Sector.

Codex 4:

There was a gunshot as I popped into my safe haven in ??113 to recalibrate, and a second gunshot as I bounced back out to Universe Sector 0081422.

Codex 5:

Kit, son of his father, was pacing the floor, chain-smoking.

Constance was alternately getting up and sitting down—up—down—up. She, too, was smoking; or, rather, she was lighting cigarettes and throwing them away. Kathryn was sitting, stiffly still, manufacturing Lenses which, starting at her wrists, raced up both bare arms to her shoulders and disappeared. Karen was meticulously sticking holes in a piece of blank paper with a pin, making an intricate and meaningless design. Only Camilla made any pretense of calmness, and it was as transparent as glass. She was pretending to read a novel; but instead of absorbing its full content at the rate of one glance per page, she had read half of it word by word and still had no idea of what the story was about.

I popped in with a gunshot sound. The Children of the Lens all turned to face me, but it didn't last long. As I moved quickly, I grabbed hold of Kit and promptly went into a touch telepathic contact with him. At this, the potential future version of him popped out of my mind, and straight back into his past self. The fully integrated Kit Kinnison turned, and using the power of Flux, myself, the Mystic Avenger, and his sisters, managed to override the minds of his sisters' past selves, and reintegrate the potential future selves in place.

At this, I let go. The Children of the Lens, while hiding it from Mentor, formed the Unit, and started searching Kit's past mind for any sign of manipulation. Sure enough, there was a faint trace of thought. Just a little bead, that they had completely missed the first time. It was plucked out, and erased. At this point, I was about to hit my wrist device, and leave, but Karen held her hand up.

“Are you sure you don't want to see us defeat irrationality first hand?” thought the Unit. “You said you're trying to counteract these Unknown, perhaps you might learn something here.”

The Mystic Avenger thought through me, “I and Flux have to get back to our original projects now, but Pseudonymus will stay here and observe the events at this point in time. He just got finished with a punishment on improperly handling irrationality. Perhaps by observing some wiser heads than his, he might learn something.” With that, I felt the Mystic Avenger and flux leave my system and I sagged to the floor, feeling drained.

“Don't worry,” said Kathryn as the Unit broke apart. “We will shield your existence from Mentor and the others here. If I understand this time travel thing correctly, changing time by accident could make matters worse.”

“In a nutshell,” I said. “So, is there some way I can get popcorn and sit back to watch the main event?”

“What's popcorn?” asked Kit. So I invited them to look into my mind about movie theaters, which by their time would have existed thousands of years before. They laughed upon seeing my memories, but the time was quickly approaching where they would have to deal with Eddor, and so resumed their positions.

"Are you ready, children?" Mentor's thought came in at last.

"Ready!" Without knowing how they got there, the Five found themselves standing in the middle of the room, packed tight.

"Oh, Kit, I'm shaking like a torso-tosser!" Constance wailed. "I just know I'm going to louse up this whole damn war!"

"QX, baby, we're all in the same fix. Can't you hear my teeth chatter? Doesn't mean a thing. Good teams—champions—all feel the same way before a big game starts... and this is the biggest game ever... steady down, kids. We'll be QX as soon as the whistle blows—I hope..."

"P-s-s-t!" Kathryn hissed. "Listen!"

"Lensmen of the Galactic Patrol!" Mentor's resonant pseudo-voice filled all space. "I, Mentor of Arisia, am calling upon you because of a crisis in which no lesser force can be of use. You have been informed upon the matter of Ploor. It is true that Ploor has been destroyed; that the Ploorans, physically, are no more. You of the Lens, however, already know dimly that the physical is not the all. Know now that there is a residuum of non-material malignancy against which all the physical weapons of all the universes would be completely impotent. That evil effluvium, intrinsically vicious, is implacably opposed to every basic concept and idea of your Patrol. It has been on the move ever since the destruction of the planet Ploor. Unaided, we of Arisia are not strong enough to handle it, but the massed and directed force of your collective mind will be able to destroy it completely. If you wish me to do so, I will supervise the work of so directing your mental force as to encompass the complete destruction of this menace, which I tell you most solemnly is the last weapon of power with which Boskonia will be able to threaten Civilization. Lensmen of the Galactic Patrol, met as one for the first time in Civilization's long history, what is your wish?"

A tremendous wave of thought, expressed in millions of variant phraseologies, made the wish of the Lensmen very clear indeed. They did not know how such a thing could be done, but they were supremely eager to have Mentor of Arisia lead them against the Boskonians, whoever and wherever they might be.

"Your verdict is unanimous, as I had hoped and believed that it would be. It is well. The part of each of you will be simple, but not easy. You will all of you, individually, think of two things, and of only two. First, of your love for and your pride in and your loyalty to your Patrol. Second, of the clear fact that Civilization must and shall triumph over Boskonia. Think these thoughts, each of you with all the strength that in him lies.

"You need not consciously direct those thoughts. Being attuned to my pattern, the force will flow at my direction. As it passes from you, you will replenish it, each according to his strength. You will find it the hardest labor you have ever performed, but it will be of permanent harm to none and it will not be of long duration. Are you ready?"

"WE ARE READY!" The crescendo roar of thought bulged the galaxy to its poles. "Children—strike!" The generators flared into action—the mechanical screens collapsed —the Unit struck. The outermost mental screen went down. The Unit struck again, almost instantly. Down went the second. The third. The fourth.

It was that flawless Unit, not Camilla, who detected and analyzed and precisely located the Eddorian guardsman handling each of those far-flung screens. It was the Unit, not Kathryn and Kit, who drilled the pilot hole through each Eddorian's hard-held block and enlarged it into a working orifice. It was the Unit, not Karen, whose impenetrable shield held stubbornly every circular mil of advantage gained in making such ingress. It was the Unit, not Constance, who assembled and drove home the blasts of mental force in which the Eddorians died. No time whatever was lost in consultation or decision. Action was not only instantaneous, but simultaneous with perception. The Children of the Lens were not now five, but one. The UNIT.

"Come in, Mentor!" Kit snapped then. "All you Arisians and all the Lensmen. Nothing specialized—just a general slam at the whole screen. This fifth screen is the works—they've got twenty minds on it instead of one, and they're topnotchers. Best strategy now is for us five to lay off for a second or two and show 'em what we've got in the line of defense, while the rest of you fellows give 'em hell!"

Arisia and the massed Lensmen struck; a tidal wave of such tremendous weight and power that under its impact the fifth screen sagged Sat against the planet's surface. Any one Lensman's power was small, of course, in comparison with that of any Eddorian; but every available Lensman of the Galactic Patrol was giving, each according to his strength, and the output of one Lensman, multiplied by the countless millions which was the number of Lensmen then at work, made itself tellingly felt.

Countless? Yes. Only Mentor ever knew how many minds contributed to that stupendous flood of force. Bear in mind that in the First Galaxy alone there are over one hundred thousand million suns: that each sun has, on the average, something over one and thirty seven hundredths planets inhabited by intelligent life: that about one-half of these planets then adhered to Civilization; and that Tellus, an average planet, graduates approximately one hundred Lensmen every year. '

"So far, Kit, so good," Constance panted. Although she was no longer trembling, she was still highly excited. "But I don't know how many more shots like that I've—we've—got left in the locker."

"You're doing fine, Connie," Camilla soothed.

"Sure you are, baby. You've got plenty of jets," Kit agreed. Except in moments of supreme stress these personal, individual exchanges of by-thoughts did not interfere with the smooth functioning of the Unit. "Fine work, all of you, kids. I thought we'd get over the shakes as soon as..."

"Watch it!" Camilla snapped. "Here comes the shock wave. Brace yourself, Kay. Hold us together, Kit!"

The wave came. Everything that the Eddorians could send. The Unit's barrier did not waver. After a full

second of it—a time comparable to days of saturation atomic bombing in ordinary warfare—Karen, who had been standing stiff and still, began to relax.

"This is too, too easy," she declared. "Who's helping me? I can't feel anything, but I simply know I haven't got this much stuff. You, Cam—or is it all of you?" Not one of the Five was as yet thoroughly familiar with the operating characteristics of the Unit.

"All of us, more or less, but mostly Kit," Camilla decided after a moment's thought. "He's as solid as an inert planet."

"Not me," Kit denied, vigorously. "Must be you other kids. Feels to me like Kat, mostly. All I'm doing is just sort of leaning up against you a little— just in case. I haven't done a thing so far."

"Oh, no? Sure not!" Kathryn giggled, an infectious chuckle inherited or copied directly from her mother. "We know it, Kit. You wouldn't think of doing anything, even if you could. Just the same, we're mighty glad you're here, chum!"

"QX, kids, seal the chatter. We've had time to learn that they can't crack us, and so have they, so let's get to work."

Since the Unit was now under continuous attack, its technique would have to be entirely different from that used previously. Its barrier must vanish for an infinitesimal period of time, during which it must simultaneously detect and blast Or, rather, the blast would have to be directed in mid-flight, while the Unit's own block was open. Nor could that block be open for more than the barest fractional millimicrosecond before or after the passage of the bolt. It is time that the bolt compared with the power of the Unit very much as the steady pressure of burning propellant powder compares with the disruptive force of detonating duodec: even so it would have wrought much damage to the minds of the Five had any of it been allowed to reach them.

Also, like parachute-jumping, this technique could not be practiced. Since the timing had to be so nearly absolute, the first two shots missed their targets completely; but the Unit learned fast. Eddorian after Eddorian died.

"Help, All-Highest, help!" a high Eddorian appealed, finally.

"What is it?" His Ultimate Supremacy, knowing that only utter desperation could be back of such intrusion, accepted the call.

"It is this new Arisian entity..."

"It is not an entity, fool, but a fusion," came curt reprimand. "We decided that point long ago."

"An entity, I say!" In his urgency the operator committed the unpardonable by omitting the titles of address. "No possible fusion can attain such perfection of timing, of synchronization. Our best fusions have attempted to match it, and have failed. Its screens are impenetrable. Its thrusts cannot be blocked. My message is this: solve for us, and quickly, the problem of this entity. If you do not or cannot do so, we perish all of us, even to you of the Innermost Circle."

"Think you so?" The thought was a sneer. "If your fusions cannot match those of the Arisians you should die, and the loss will be small."

The fifth screen went down. Eddore lay bare to the Arisian mind. There were inner defenses, of course, but Kit knew every one; their strengths and their weaknesses. He had long since spread in Mentor's mind an exact and completely detailed chart: they had long since drawn up a completely detailed plan of campaign. Nevertheless, Kit could not keep from advising Mentor:

"Pick off any who may try to get away. Start on Area B and work up. Be sure, though, to lay off of Area

K or you'll get your beard singed off."

"The plan is being followed, youth," Mentor assured him. "Children, you have done very well indeed. Rest now, and recuperate your powers against that which is yet to come."

"QX. Unlace yourselves, kids. Loosen up. Relax. I'll break out a few beakers of fayalin, and all of us—you especially, Con—had better stoke up with candy bars."

"Eat! Why, I couldn't..." but at her brother's insistence she took an experimental bite. "But say, I am hungry, at that!"

"Of course you are. You've been putting out a lot of stuff, and there's more and worse coming. Now rest, all of you."

They rested. Somewhat to their surprise, they could rest; even Constance. But the respite was short. Area K, the headquarters and the citadel of His Ultimate Supremacy and the Innermost Circle of the Boskonian Empire, contained all that remained of Eddorian life.

But this, Kit knew, was the crux. This was what had stopped the Arisians cold; had held them off for all these millions upon millions of years. Everything up to now the Arisians could have done themselves; but even the totalized and integrated mind of Arisia would hit Area K and bounce.

To handle Area K two things were necessary: the Unit and the utterly inconceivable massed might of the Lensmen.

Knowing better even than Mentor what the situation was, Kit felt again a twinge of panic, but managed to throw it off.

"No tight linkage yet, kids," Kit the Organizer went smoothly to work. "Individual effort—a flash of fusion, perhaps, now and then, if any of us call for it, but no Unit until I give the word. Then give it everything you've got. Cam, analyze that screen and set us up a pattern for it—you'll find it'll take some doing. See whether it's absolutely homogeneous—hunt for weak Spots, if any. Con, narrow down to the sharpest needle you can possibly make and start pecking. Not too hard—don't tire yourself—just to get acquainted with the texture of the thing and keep them awake. Kay, take over our guard so Eukonidor can join the other Arisians. Kat, come along with me—you'll have to help with the Arisians until I call you into the Unit.

"You Arisians, except Mentor, blanket this dome. Thinner than that— solider, harder... there. A trifle off-balance yet—give me just a little more, here 'on this side. QX—hold it right there! SQUEEZE! Kat, watch 'em. Hold them right there and in balance until you're sure the Eddorians aren't going to be able to put any bulges up through the blanket.

"Now, Mentor, you and the Lensmen. Tell them to give us, for the next five seconds, absolutely everything they can deliver. When they're at absolute peak, hit us with the whole charge. Dead center. Don't pull your punch. We'll be ready.

"Con, get ready to stick the needle right there—they'll think it's just another peck, I hope—and slug as you never slugged before. Kay, get ready to drop that screen and stiffen the needle—when that beam hits us it'll be NO pat on the back. The rest of us will brace you both and keep the shock from killing us all. Here it comes... make Unit!...

GO!"

The Unit struck. Its needle of pure force drove against the Eddorians' supposedly absolutely impenetrable shield. The Unit's thrust was, of itself, like nothing ever before known. The Lensmen's pile-driver blow—the integrated sum total of the top effort of every Lensman of the entire Galactic Patrol—was of itself irresistible. Something had to give way.

For an instant it seemed as though nothing were happening or ever would happen. Strong young arms laced the straining Five into a group as motionless and as sculpturesque as statuary, while between their bodies and around them there came into being a gigantic Lens: a Lens whose splendor filled the entire room with radiance.

Under that awful concentration of force something had to give way. The Unit held. The Arisians held. The Lensmen held. The needle, superlatively braced, neither bent nor broke. Therefore the Eddorian's screen was punctured; and in the instant of its puncturing it disappeared as does a bubble when it breaks.

There was no mopping up to do. Such was the torrent of force cascading into the stronghold that within a microsecond after its shield went down all life within it was snuffed out.

The Boskonian War was over.

Codex 6:

I watched it all the way through. I got to see through the minds and eyes of the Unit as they defeated the Innermost Circle of Eddor. Surprisingly, there was enough energy going to the Unit that they were able to spare just a little bit, both to maintain a trickle of thought connection to me so I could watch through their eyes, and also enough that I could be shielded. No one even knew I was there. So much was the focus going on on defeating Boskone, that no one even thought to check for an intruder somewhere on the Civilization side. It was a good thing too. Otherwise, it might not have ended well for me given the mindset.

Now I must confess, I did not like the idea of killing. Article 173 in the punishments section of the Proclamation quite clearly states that if you kill someone, they don't learn anything, so one must always attempt to preserve the consciousness of the person you are physically killing in some form and then put said consciousness through an appropriate rehabilitation or re-parametrization process to get them back on the mend. Now I knew, intellectually from reading the Lensman books that the Eddorians could not be reasoned with. However, knowing something intellectually, and actually experiencing it firsthand are two very different things. What I perceived through the Unit's Mind as they took out the Innermost Circle made the words of a certain Dr. Edward Elmer Smith, that I had read as a child, look like an understatement by about 10 orders of magnitude.

The feelings of the Unit, as they took out the Eddorians, were quite clear. They were a singular focal thousands, no millions of minds across an entire galaxy. But in there, I noticed something that I don't think any of us Observers have seen before. I noticed the thoughts of the Unit, in their subconscious, in addition to shielding me, were a mix of pity, sadness, but knowing what needed to be done. I saw in them what I had read in the books about being unable to understand how the Eddorians could oppress. But in the Unit's mind from Kit's memories of his investigation behind the thought screens, I saw the reasons for Eddorians developing as oppressors. I saw the sheer contempt and arrogance that the Eddorians had. But as I was basking in everything, something occurred to me. I remembered about other Amoebic species the Observers had come across, and how a lot of them seemed to be cooperative and not oppressive, and I realized it wasn't actually the fission process that caused the oppressive tendencies. It was the sheer belief that they knew everything. Upon later checking with the Central Database of the Observers if there were any details about a Universe that might have originally held the Eddorian planet, I tracked dimensional distortions through space and time, and we found a way to look in on very early Eddorian evolution, as they were just becoming sentient, that indicated where their system evolved from.

It turned out that the reason the Eddorian fission went differently is that they originally started as a single giant amoeba who was quite literally, the only fully sentient life form on its planet. It figured that since it was alone and was the only one that could think, it should rule over everything and make itself a God, figuring its superior intelligence would automatically guide everything else to the truth. However, when it fissioned in order that there might be more of it in order to go about the work necessary to helping guide the other life to sentience, the newly split off entities lost a bit of memory about the original purpose, but the superiority belief and the belief in strength remained. As it kept fissioning, only that sort of oppressive mentality remained, while the memories of its original position, flawed as they were anyway, completely lost, only with the drive to become top dog remaining. It just got worse and worse with each new fission or generation. I initially contemplated trying to pop into the Universe Sector 0015584, the Eddorian home universe, at that early point in time, in an attempt to convince the first Eddorian that this wasn't necessary, but then I thought better of it, as I didn't want to affect the development of billions of entities across a number of worlds. As this timeline was trans-universal, I couldn't affect it without destroying a large number of other Universe lines in the process.

While I was running all this through my hypersphere, in Universe Sector 0081422, barely 5 minutes had passed by after the end of the destruction of Eddor, when I got a thought beam bringing me back to my host body.

“We've got a problem, and need your help,” thought Kit Kinnison urgently. “We remember going through this part where our father Kim is stuck in another universe beyond our perception. We could use your help in getting him back.”

Snapping back to “reality,” I thought back, “Well as you've already lived this part via a potential future, you should know how this works out already. Just do what you did last time and your father will come back.”

“Yes, but we didn't have you here before,” thought Kit. “And if there is one thing I comprehended from the fusion with you and your friends was that the number of universes you can sense and locate is far greater than any we can project to. Also, it's possible that he was stuck in one of those dimensions that we can't see. If you could project our mum's thoughts through your network to reach dad and give us a hand, maybe we can pull him back easier. Also, he just materialized in front of us the last time. Isn't that one of your strengths?”

“Yes,” I thought. “But it's not my place to interfere. You've seen enough knowledge from the network. Just try to push your mum's signal farther. You should be able to do this much yourselves.”

“Fair enough,” said Kit. The thought line cut out, and I fiddled a bit more with my wrist computer.

Kimball was returned to his wife Clarissa and the timeline went on as originally planned. As it turned out, the Children of the Lens were really good at acting as if they hadn't had lived through two centuries of a potential future that was now safely sealed away. They repeated just like clockwork before, the rest of the Galactic Patrol and Civilization thought that Boskone was actually controlled by Ploor, Mentor and the rest of the Arisians went off to explore more planes of existence.

Funnily enough though, they didn't actually die. While it is true that they were no longer detectable by any mind in Civilization, including the Kinnisons, I specifically sent a call to the Observer High Committee requesting special integration status be granted to the Arisians. An edict by the High Committee was later released after this incident saying that incorporation into the hypersphere network

and turning any type 5 entity into a Observer Operative was an offer that we were supposed to extend to any type 5 species that wanted to explore beyond its limits if it couldn't any other way. The Arisians wound up being Level 1, Stage 6 operatives, except for Mentor, all of whom wound up initially as stage 7. They got to explore what was beyond what they perceived as death, and are still helping us catalog other universes, as well as founding the R&D department on how to access pure thought without the use of hyper-spheres. We'll keep an eye on the progress of that though.

While the coverup was happening, etc, I decided to take a year off, as a vacation to explore Tellus, the human planet of Civilization, take part in the festivities, see the sights, and essentially do something I hadn't had a chance to do in a long number of universes; play tourist. I got to take in a concert or two, watch the fireworks, I even did street magic for some kids and families that were out on one of the promenades. Luckily, I didn't have to worry about not having papers or anything. The Children of the Lens introduced me to their parents as a stray that they had picked up and claimed that I was from outside of civilization and interested in learning about it from personal experience, and that I was in need of papers and credits. Of course, Clarissa and Kimball, though thinking the full story wasn't being told, interpreted that as I was a refugee from one of the human inhabited planets in Boskone, and as a result, they made a number of calls to get me set up with enough credits to get started, and a set of papers that had me introduced as Henry Smith, magician and comedian. Of course, I've never liked doing stage shows. So I went around Tellus as a street magician, performing for families and asking for credits to be transferred to my wrist device, while taking in the landmarks and all the places worth visiting. Let's just say that the travel was well worth it. I don't think I've ever met friendlier, more thoughtful, or more caring people in any Universe I've gone to.

After all was said and done though, I wound up meeting the 5 Kinnison children for lunch at the siblings' private residence. We started discussing how to address the threat of the Unknown when they finally became aware of Universe Sector 0081422 and what the next plan would be. Needless to say, while I'd been gone, as they wanted to talk to me about a few things before I left, and get my analysis of their world, they decided to not invite their parents, but for the past year, they had been upgrading their personal residence with all of the latest stealth technology, including up to date spy-ray blocks, and even adapting the Eddorian thought screens that blocked out third level thought, just in case the Unknown came and tried to manipulate them again.

“I personally like the idea of signing the Inter-dimensional Sentient Rights Proclamation,” said Karen, twirling her spoon in her ice cream. “I mean we can perceive and send our minds to other universes, maybe we should really help directly.”

“Look to our own,” said Constance. “We clearly don't know how when or where or even how these Unknown will attack, or even what form they will take. Remember how much of a power discrepancy there was between the Arisians and the Eddorians? If what Pseudonymus tells us about the Unknown is true, then chances are the power discrepancy between the Observers and the Unknown is at least 50 orders of magnitude greater or more. And we're nowhere near the capabilities of the Observers yet.”

Kathryn sided with Karen, “Yes, but the fact that we are inter-dimensional means that we should be finding new ways to help the Observers as quickly as possible. Our perception and visualization of the Cosmic All could be very useful to the Observers provided we can figure out how to see time in a spatial sense.”

“Have you two managed to start perceiving more than 5 dimensions, then?” asked Camilla. “Because I'm having difficulty even visualizing that concept. Face it, while we may be able over the next aeons

be able to expand our visualization of the cosmic all by 10 or even 20 orders of magnitude or even more, the fact remains we will only be able to expand them along the dimensions we can perceive. We need to focus on doing what the Arisians did; selectively breeding the next group of L3s who can perceive what we can't, and figure out how to remove the Unknown once they come into our universe.”

“They wouldn't actually enter your universe,” I said. “From what we've seen, they apparently hide in higher dimensional space, work through conduits by manipulating them, who don't even realize they're being manipulated in the first place, and heighten the conduits' charisma just enough to bypass rationality on both sides of an argument and collapse the societies from within.”

“Enough!” said Kit, slamming his hand on the table. “I'm sorry, but you ladies have been at each others' throats for months debating the issues surrounding the documents that Pseudonymus left us with. As Guardians of this and the surrounding Universes, we have to come to a decision as to how we're going to handle the next upcoming threat. Pseudonymus, truth be told, I agree with all of my sisters. We should sign up as we could use your help, but we're not much use to you if we can't exactly perceive a sixth dimension. Now you clearly showed us through the math that closed time-like curves need at least 6 dimensions with a signal transmitted faster than light to be properly formed. And we all understand the math perfectly well. However, due to our lack of perceptual capability, I am very wary about attempting such experiments, even in another universe, simply because of the lives being lost. The breeding program also has one fatal flaw though,” he said turning to Camilla. “We are breeding from sentient species who are still from similar stock as us. We may be able to selectively breed more perceptive L3s, but unless a mutation is actually there that might be more open to time travel in some form, we don't have the basic stock we need to breed what we want. That's why I'm asking again, Pseudonymus, can you give us the genetic code to start us off?”

“And again, I have to say no,” I said. “Article 7 clearly states that we are not allowed to give information beyond an entity's understanding, only hints towards it. This is why I got stuck in a time loop as punishment. I revealed a wormhole jump directly to a person who wasn't fully cognizant of what such technology was and violated the Non-Exposure Directive.”

“Well we need to at least figure out something,” said Constance, who was now stabbing her cake rather forcefully with her fork.

“Wait, I've got it,” said Kit. “What about setting up a test for the next breed of L3?”

“What do you mean?” asked Karen, with a puzzled expression on her face, further highlighting the beauty of her curvy chin.

“I mean,” said Kit, “that we put a message somewhere with a recording of our history somewhere for the New L3s to read and come find us. There is the old adage that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Well we are dealing with our very timeline itself being changed. And if the timeline is altered again, then perhaps maybe the discrepancy from the original history will have the L3s contact us and mention that something seems off.”

At this, I smiled. I had remembered the thought box that Kit had set up in the Epilogue of the “Children of the Lens” book with records of the entire Boskonian War, and I had been waiting for him to come to this himself. Another hour of discussion and I was about ready to drop the idea in myself just to complete what I remembered of the timeline. “Well that's great for the testing, but how are you going to protect the message, and how are you going to do the breeding since I can't give you the genetic code?”

I asked smiling, eager to see what he had in mind.

“We don't necessarily need to have a new genetic stock, if we encode the math you gave us as a genetic code itself,” said Kathryn, after a moment, with an impish grin, spread from ear to ear. “We literally transcribe the mathematical theory itself as a genetic sequence, which gets injected as part of standard vaccination into some of the children of the potential genetic lines of a number of species, and then do the process from there. In a few millennia, the idea will crop up in entirely new minds. Those L3s will be able to then translate those ideas into a new vision of the Cosmic All and perceive the sixth dimension at least.”

“And,” said Karen, smiling as well, “we should get Pseudonymus here to put the message in some dimension somewhere that won't necessarily be affected or sensed immediately. It will be the perfect way to protect the message, and test to see if the new L3s can actually perceive higher dimensions than we can.”

“I still think we should be cautious about stretching out into extra dimensions that we can't perceive,” said Camilla. “Again, if we and the rest of the universe are vulnerable to manipulation of history, how are we going to know if the message itself hasn't been compromised?”

Kit turned to me with an exasperated expression and a thought in my head of, “You see what I mean? I can only seem to get them to agree completely when we're in the Unit.” I chuckled and he said out loud, “Well isn't it obvious? We sign the Proclamation, but with the proviso that the Observers have to watch our backs and defend us against the Unknown until such time as the breeding project is completed. Then, the New L3s will start coming up with new angles and solutions the Observers have overlooked.”

“Well it is true that we're already using some help from the Arisians,” I said. “But they're still getting up to speed, and it's going to take a long time for them.”

“Wait, what?” asked Camilla, looking dead angrily at me. “What did you do to the Arisians?”

“Nothing they didn't agree to,” I said. “They wanted to explore more planes of existence, and wound up, purely by accident, popping through dimension 7 right into a hypersphere. We offered them the chance to become full fledged Observer Operatives and explore the multiverse as far as we knew it. They accepted, signed the Proclamation, and are now heading up multiple sections of research for us. We always need fresh minds, and we need all the help we can get.”

At this, Camilla's expression softened. The fact that the Arisians had already signed the Proclamation apparently had something of an effect on her. She turned to Kit. “I changed my mind, we need to sign the Proclamation,” she said. “If the Arisians are already on board with the Observers, the least we can do is help them in our own small way.”

“Then it's agreed that this is the plan?” asked Kit. All four sisters nodded. He turned to me. “Then it's settled. Please accept the Unit's signature of the Inter-dimensional Sentient Rights Proclamation and that we swear to uphold its articles and principles in our section of the Multiverse and help in its upholding wherever possible.” At this, I nodded, opened my wrist device, hit the button for transmission and placed my hand on the table. Everyone else touched my right hand as they formed the Unit and entered into telepathic contact with me via touch.

“This is Pseudonymus, Call Sign: Alpha-Echo-Gamma-42179, Adjunct: 1744271, Code Word: Ylona reporting in,” I thought, projecting through the hypersphere network. “In connection with me are the Kinnison Unit, as they are to be called in our data banks. Please patch me through to the High Committee of the Observers.”

After a moment, a fusion responded. “This is the High Committee of the Observers. Though we are many, we speak with one voice, that through many observations, the truth may be revealed. What is your request Pseudonymus?” asked the High Committee.

“Greetings O Learned Ones. Though you may issue the theory, I seek the data for its confirmation, refutation, and/or contextualization, so that science and independent review may be upheld,” I said, responding with the formal reply of greeting. “With me are the Kinnison Unit, the successors to the Arisians. They wish to sign the Inter-dimensional Sentient Rights Proclamation, with a detailed understanding that we are to help defend them from threats coming from dimensions that they cannot perceive, in exchange for developing what they call L3s who can perceive what we see without the aid of hyper-spheres, thus seeing more or a different angle that we have missed when they get access to our technology.”

“Is this true?” asked the High Committee.

“Yes,” thought the Unit. “We have worked out a method by which we can provide you with some of the extra observation and fresh perspective you need. Courtesy of a bit of math Pseudonymus showed us, we should be able to get this ready for you in a few millennia from our perspective. We just need you to help protect us from the dimensions we cannot perceive until then.”

“Math that Pseudonymus showed you?” asked the High Committee. “Pseudonymus, you are to return to your Safe Haven at once while we review what punishment you will have to take. This is your second violation of Article 7.”

“He has not violated the Proclamation,” thought the Unit. “Article 7 states that information must be shown in terms an entity can understand with hints towards something more. Article 590 also states that when necessary for empirical reasons, any other article may be subsequently reviewed and revised in order to protect the underlying values. Out of necessity, Pseudonymus and two of your others took us back in time that we might avert a dangerous future we had fallen prey to, courtesy of a mistake one of those operatives made. Flux we believe his name was? Pseudonymus has alerted us to a very real threat that is coming, and we are fully capable of understanding multi-dimensional mathematics as we are type 5, as you call us. We just can't perceive the dimensions directly, and thus it is difficult for us to do anything but help develop those who can.”

There was a pause for about 30 seconds. Of course, considering this could have meant I was back on “an extended research assignment” in a repeated time loop again, possibly forever or until the Observers fell to the Unknown, it seemed like an eternity. After a bit, the High Committee responded. “You do have a point,” they thought grudgingly. “However, Article 15 also states that we must clearly set an example to others in upholding these principles. We cannot slack their proper application for one operative. To that end, Pseudonymus, your next assignment is assisting a fellow operative who we had to send out as a replacement for you while you were stuck in the Time Loop. A certain submarine is lost in a Universe Sector with no way home, and no idea how to complete its mission, let alone for the Operative how to complete ours. In short, its memories need awakening. The Mystic Avenger did it for you, it's time for you to do it for another agent. As for the Kinnison Unit, it is hereby established that

you are now part of the Type 5 Alliance, and your pass code is being forwarded accordingly. Pseudonymus will not be able to interpret it, though you will. For Discovery, Objectivity, Integrity and Clarity.”“For Discovery, Objectivity, Integrity and Clarity,” I thought as the High Committee signed off.

“Well,” said Kit as the Unit separated. “Now that we're officially part of the network, I'm assuming we should get to work on setting up the message so you can be on your way. Oh, how will we get hold of the Observers since we can't perceive the dimensions you are in?”

“Check your sense of perception, all of you,” I said. They did so, and breathed in sharply in surprise.

“There is a little dimensional pocket right between universes about one million universes away,” said Camilla. “I can't perceive some of its facets, but not the whole thing.”

“That is a hypersphere,” I said. “It's connected to the network and has been dropped into one of several that you should be able to perceive soon, as long as they pass through the dimensional line along whose other Universes you can perceive. Just simply send a thought to it, with your pass code included, and you should be able to contact anyone else on the network at that time. Now, on a more important note, what sort of message did you want to leave?”

“Oh, I've already taken care of that,” said Kit. He thought it at me, and I used my wrist computer to activate a hypersphere and create a dimension pocket in the dimension 6, attached to Universe Sector 0081422, but not detectable unless you were really looking. As it went in there, I caught a little message that warmed my heart, as I remembered it from the book's epilogue:

“To you who have scanned this report, further greetings:Since I who compiled it am only a youth, a Guardian only by title, and hence unable to visualize even approximately either the time of nor the necessity for the opening of this flask of force, I have no idea as to the bodily shape or the mental attainments of you, the entity to whom it has now been made available.

You already know that Civilization is again threatened seriously. You probably know something of the basic nature of that threat. While studying this tape you have become informed that the situation is sufficiently grave to have made it again necessary to force certain selected minds prematurely into the third level of Lensmanship.

You have already learned that in ancient time Civilization after Civilization fell before it could rise much above the level of barbarism. You know that we and the previous race of Guardians saw to it that this, OUR Civilization,, has not yet fallen. Know, now that the task of your race, so soon to replace us, will be to see to it that it does not fall.

One of us will become en rapport with you as soon as you have assimilated the facts, the connotations, and the implications of this material. Prepare your mind for contact.

Christopher K. Kinnison.”

I smiled at this, and looked at the five Children of the Lens. As I turned to face each of them, they smiled, and I felt a warm, tingly feeling, deep inside my soul, that at least this Universe Sector, was in capable hands, and likely to survive for a very long time.

I smiled, and nodded and said that it was time for me to go.

The four sisters of the lens grabbed me in a group hug, whereas Kit just shook my hand. “Clear ether,

Pseudonymus,” he said, nodding solemnly, yet smiling.

“QX, Clear ether Kinnisons,” I said. And with that, I opened my wrist computer, hit the wormhole button, and there was a gunshot as I disappeared.

Analysis and Discussion:

From this incident, there are a coupe of things I think we need to be aware of:

1. Type 5 classification has always been defined as being able to cross universe lines, inter-dimensionally, on a regular basis. Now up until this point, all Type 5 civilizations we have met have at least been aware of closed time-like curves and causality issues, even if they couldn't fully exploit them. It appears that this is not always the case.

2. These new Type 5 civilizations with this kind of deficit still have valuable techniques and ideas to teach us. For example, we saw from this how irrationality may force us to act. That said, killing and violence are ALWAYS a last resort, and even, in a way, the memories of the Eddorians were downloaded through the Kinnisons, so at least we found a way to help them not break Article 173.

For these two points, I would like to make the following recommendations:

1. That for necessity reasons, an addendum be attached to Article 7 of the Proclamation. If a type 5 species is suffering lack of knowledge, comprehension, or understanding about closed time-like curves or are limited in the number of dimensions they can perceive pertaining to us, even though they are type 5, it is essential that we at least give them some theoretical framework in this area that they can extrapolate from, if only so they can be prepared for what lies ahead.

2. I propose that the edict I initially requested from the High Committee and was finalized become a formal addendum to edict 347, which says that any species that achieves Type 5 may sign the treaty. We need to establish the idea that if any entity wishes to have the ability to share the thoughts of all others in the alliance, it should have access to that information, for the sake of the pursuit of Objective Reality.

Now that this report has been compiled, I am off to help Maltharius out with reawakening his memories and having the necessary mathematical skills to at least plot where in Inter-space he is. Until my next report, for Discovery, Objectivity, Integrity, and Clarity, or as the Lensmen say, “Clear ether!”

Acknowledgments/Appendix/References:

From the Author:

For a long while, I have been wanting to write a Pseudonymus or Observerse story in one of the universes created by one of the Big Five of twentieth century science fiction. Luckily, a review I came across (http://frankensteinbeck.blogspot.ca/2013/05/random-book-review-lensman-series.html) said that the Lensman series was officially in the public domain as it was on the Gutenberg project. I just hope I've done E.E. Doc Smith's work justice. But yeah, I trust you found this story at least somewhat enjoyable, and that it will actually get you to want to read the original series, even just to see if I did it justice.

There were two major blocks of quotes. They both come from the last book in the series, “Children of the Lens.” Yes, I had Pseudonymus actually remember that the universe was described in a book. Though I didn't use the actual term, this is a concept known as Myth is Reality or Pantheistic Solipsism. Also, I intend to reveal in later stories why Pseudonymus could not find any information in the Central database about the Lensman universe.

The reference to 6 dimensions being required for a closed time-like curve is actually lifted from a paper entitled “Closed Time-like Curves in Asymmetrically Warped Brane Universes” which can be found here:

http://arxiv.org/pdf/gr-qc/0603045v2.pdf

A small glossary of terms:

Inter-space is what the Observers call inter-dimensional space, or bulk space as string theorists call it, the space in which other universes sit.

A zarnak is what the Observers consider a full orbit of their planet around its sun. A zarnak is about one million earth years in length, and the Observers have been around for a million zarnaks.

A Micro-projector is basically a projector/energy weapon as described in the Lensman series, except it is now the size of a hand pistol as in that section of the timeline, 200 years had passed since the Boskonians had been defeated, so technology had advanced that much further.

A closed time-like curve is a theoretical physics term for traveling back in time.

A hyper-sphere is a 6 dimensional sphere that runs off Zero-point energy, and is combination gravitational sensor, computer, and wormhole generator. Each hyper-sphere is quantum entangled with every other hyper-sphere in the network, but turns those entanglements into microscopic traversable wormholes to allow information communication by faster than light traveling gravity wave or gravitational laser (courtesy of the wormhole making a shortcut). The back story on Pseudonymus and the Observers has links to papers explaining the physics of how non-traversable wormholes are equivalent to quantum entanglement.

The Inter-dimensional Sentient Rights Proclamation is a philosophical document and treaty that all Type 5 civilizations subscribe to. It has 590 articles which prescribe how Type 5 Civilizations are to conduct themselves, what values they hold, what the punishments are for violating them, and otherwise what beliefs are held. Basically summarized, its core principles are do not oppress or harm other sentient life, Uphold Empiricism in its truest form, and pursue objective reality. Article 590 also allows for review and retrofitting individual articles as necessary to help pursue the core values/principles in light of unique situations or new data.

A codex is kind of like a Chapter heading, but in terms of a memory report, it basically is a block of memory, kind of like a computer file. All memories from Observer operatives are uploaded to the Central Database, along with reports, so that every Observer can access what every other Observer has discovered, to help the entire species work on their ever evolving pursuit of Objective Reality, while trying to protect existence in the process.

For any other definitions, feel free to read other publications pertaining to the Pseudonymus-Observer Report series, follow the series at http://www.youtube.com/aikiboy1111111, read the Lensman series to understand terms quoted from there, or contact the author with any further questions.