“It means that we are listening in on interplanetary thought transmissions. I believed that other heavenly bodies conversed by means of geometry or music. I was wrong. I should have known that they would be far enough advanced to use telepathy—radio telepathy.”
“These voices that do not seem to be real voices—are they from Mars?”
“Probably they are. Mars is closest to us in the solar system. The Music of the Spheres!”
All this without a word having been spoken....
As the two men listened it seemed that they were actually hearing voices, that the thoughts which the set was pouring into their heads were human voices whispering into their ears. There were conversations of all sorts: plans, plots, love confidences—all that one would expect to hear if he cut in on all the telephone conversations taking place at one time in a big city. For each change of a hundredth part of a wave-length which Dick made with the dials a new flood poured in: discussions of inventions unknown to Earthmen, which might advance them a hundred thousand years—secrets which would revolutionize Earth’s every art. And all within the power of two men to disclose!
Of a sudden, growing gradually louder and louder and louder until it dominated all the minor whispers, rose one voice above the others, in the booming tones of a leader of his kind. “Aie! Aie! This is Marlars, chief and war lord over this red planet, which is the lord of all the red planets. I tell of the council to be held even now upon this, the lord of red planets—the council which, according to the legends of our people, has always been held after each hundredth occurrence of the vernal equinox of that small place called Earth by its inhabitants. Press your thought cones to your foreheads in the customary manner, and stay unmoved for one space of time, when I will call you to me. For I am Marlars, lord of this red planet which is the lord of all the red planets.”
Dick Jarvis and Stan Ross removed their head-phones and placed them against their foreheads as if mesmerized, and obeying the commands of a stronger will. The hum of the big transformer rose till it became a whine—or was it a shrieking wail? The head-phones, which seemed to be burning into their foreheads, seemed to be changing shape in their very hands. The two felt a tremendous force exerting itself on them—pulling —pulling....
A week or so later Mrs. Sharpe, the landlady of the house in which Dick Jarvis had lived, was terrifiedly answering the questions of two detectives, one sent from the local police station, another from Dick’s father.
“S’help me,” she was entreating, “that’s the truth and nothin’ else. I come upstairs, just like what I said, to make the beds, and found a big black box on the table the boys had built beneath the window, with some big lamps inside, a-burnin’ and a-snappin’. One of ’em were so big.”