The music ceased and Ranson fell back weakly, worn by the storm of emotions that had surged in waves over him.
"You.... You win!" he gasped. "What kind of deviltry is this?"
"Deviltry?" Dr. Taen laughed. "But it is so simple. Music, even normal music, can produce moods. The uplift of the ancient earthsong, 'Marsailles,' the melancholy of the 'Valse Triste,' the passion of the 'Bolero.' Indeed, many years ago on Terra, there was a strange song entitled, 'Gloomy Sunday,' which caused numerous suicides on the part of those who heard it. As for the instrument, it's merely an electrical sound producer such as your electric organ, theremins, and so on. But to it I have added a full range of supersonic notes, which, though inaudible, are the real mood-changers."
"Supersonics?" Ranson exclaimed. "You mean they're what created the emotions inside me just now?"
"Exactly." Elath Taen nodded. "The audible music helps, but it is the supersonics that determine the emotions! Their effect is upon the brain, and nothing can shut them out except counter-notes such as are set up by our helmets!" He tapped the copper dome that encased his head. "The effects of supersonics upon the emotions is interesting, Mr. Ranson. I first got my idea from old twentieth-century records on Terra itself. I read how, in the days of motion pictures before television was perfected, one of your Hollywood companies introduced a supersonic note onto the sound-track of a film in hopes of creating an atmosphere of horror at a certain point in the picture. But so great was the terror induced at the private showing that the supersonic note was immediately cut from the sound-track, and the records of the case filed away. It was the discovery and study of these records that started me on the trail of super-music. Thus with cosmic irony, Mr. Ranson, Earth has created the weapon which will destroy her! Supersonics!"
Ranson stared at Elath Taen, bewildered. Supersonics creating emotions! That was what had infuriated Haller and himself, had driven the other officials of M.B.C. to various forms of death! And now, with M.B.C. in the hands of Taen's followers, they planned to arouse the silent little reddies of Mars to revolt!
"But why?" Ranson demanded. "Earthmen have brought new life, new progress to Mars! We've built roads, canals, spaceports, taught your people our science...."
"You are aliens!" Elath Taen cried. "You must be wiped out!" He drew a whistle from his pocket, blew a shrill blast. There was a pattering of feet, and a squat Martian, his arms scarred by flame-gun burns, entered the room.
"Place the terrestial in safe keeping," Elath Taen commanded. "Watch him well." He glanced at the blinking red light of a time-signal on the wall. "Come Zeila! It's time to go!"
The girl nodded, picked up the sonovox. At the door she paused, glanced back at Ranson.