"It is a very complex process," Unger answered. "The music and the perfume are part of it. But we, the Dreamers, are the heart and the core and the soul of it. What you call hypnosis is involved in part. We Dreamers reach the minds of our audience. We bring up to the level of awareness the most cherished dream of those who are in rapport with us. We Dreamers see, feel, and share in the dreaming of our audience. To some extent we direct their dreaming. They have no comprehension of what is involved. To them the Dreaming is a sacred thing. The Dreamers are minor gods."
"But how do you float?" Martin repeated.
"We take the force which you call gravity. It is an energy state. We tap this energy to reach the minds of our audience, to control and to come into rapport with them." The Venusian's breath was coming in gasps.
"Yes. Go on." Martin was the hound on the scent of prey, the eager scientist following the clue no matter where it lead, knowing there was an answer and determined to have that answer no matter the cost.
Unger stopped. A door was ahead. He fumbled with a catch. The door swung open.
Rain and the darkness of the night swept through the opening. In the far distance lightning walked across the sky. Outside was the streets of the city.
"Seek safety!" Unger's voice was hoarse. "It will perhaps be better if you leave Venus. I warn you fairly, my people are wolves. They hold the dreaming sacred. Sometimes they hold the Dreamers sacred. But if they think you have stolen the secrets of the dreaming—Well, it would be better for you for wolves to tear you to pieces than it would be for my people to catch you." He leaned against the open door.
"But the secret of the floating?" Martin insisted.
"You have it on your recorder." Unger answered. "It is a matter of frequency, of vibration and interwoven vibration. From the information on your recorder, you can develop the equations you will need. Go."
"Good!" Martin's voice was a shout of exultation rising in the dark night.