"That is right, Larry Wilson."
"Then sound—" began Larry.
Sert shook his head. "Do you forget the menaudo, my friends? The Masters wear it at all times. It blocks out the sound waves that would torture them, drive them mad."
"I haven't forgotten it," grunted Larry. "I'm trying to think of a way to pour sound over 'em without making 'em remove the football helmet. And I think I know how to do it. Strangely enough, you have to make them turn on the golden force-ray before it will work!"
"I don't understand," said Sert. Others edged in curiously as Larry explained.
"When the force ray surrounds them," he explained, "their bodies become, in effect, a helical core. Such a core can be made responsive to musical tones by what, in my day, we called C.E.M.F.—counter electromotive force. I suppose you know the method of manufacture of the force ray?"
"Not the details. But the purely mechanical part, yes. We wind the relays in this shop—"
"Then," said Larry crisply, "you've got 'em licked! We'll get to work—now!—and build an electrical resonator. One that shoots out plenty of noise on the wave length to which their force-fields are attuned. When this howler gets going, the force-field will act as a conductor, leading the sound directly into their bodies!"
Sert's face broke in a huge grin. "And if they turn off the force-field—" he howled.
"Right! You work out on them with whatever you can lay your hands on." Larry was suddenly all work. "Give me one or two technicians and I'll rig up the electrical siren in jig-time. The rest of you start gathering weapons. This rebellion starts the minute they find out what we're cooking up!"