"And his weapons. His DeLameters, you know."
"No, I don't know, and you know that I don't know. What about them?"
"They are so ... so ... so obvious." The Velantian finally found the exact thought he wanted. "So big, and so clumsy, and so obtrusive. So inefficient, so wasteful of power. No subtlety—no finesse."
"But that's far and away the best hand weapon that has ever been developed!" Thorndyke protested.
"True. Nevertheless, a millionth of that power, properly applied, could be at least a million times as deadly."
"How?" The Tellurian, although shocked, was dubious.
"I have reasoned it out that thought, in any organic being, is and must be connected with one definite organic compound—this one," the Velantian explained didactically, the while there appeared within the technician's mind the space formula of an incredibly complex molecule; a formula which seemed to fill not only his mind, but the entire room as well. "You will note that it is a large molecule, and one of high molecular weight. Thus it is comparatively unstable. A vibration at the resonant frequency of any one of its component groups would break it down, and thought would therefore cease."
It took perhaps a minute for the full import of the ghastly thing to sink into Thorndyke's mind. Then, every fiber of him flinching from the idea, he began to protest.
"But he doesn't need it, Worsel. He's got a mind already that can—"
"It takes much mental force to kill," Worsel broke in, equably. "By that method one can slay only a few at a time, and it is exhausting work. My proposed method would require only a minute fraction of a watt of power and scarcely any mental force at all."