Then she added, "But nature seemed to have compensated in our favor when we were able to develop telepaths." She eyed Lynne speculatively, added, "You must have tremendous powers. No other Earth-person has ever been able to make the grade. From what Rolf Marcein told me you were outstanding the moment Revere reached you."
"I don't pretend to understand it," said Lynne. "As far as my first few sessions on duty, it seemed to be all right."
"You weren't bothered?" The question was softly urgent.
"No." Lynne shook her head. "But I'm expecting to be."
"You will be, I'm afraid. Every telepath on Mars has been at least once. Revere had the bad luck to be the first—before the presence of these beings was even suspected. Hence he was surprised and his resistance was unprepared. Once they've gained possession it becomes progressively more difficult to keep them out."
"I suppose," said Lynne, "they pick on telepaths because they can only enter minds opened for message-reception."
"Probably," Lao informed her. "We can't be certain of anything until we know more about them and their motives. But you can see what a threat it has become. Thanks to the paralysis of lateral electronic communication, the survival of humanity on Mars depends almost entirely on telepaths. When these zombies or whatever they are take possession no telepath is worth a damn. Nor can any of them receive messages while the aliens are threatening them. If they do...."
Lao's silence was eloquent. Lynne took a sip of oxygen as her breathing became difficult. They were approaching one of the semi-ruined structures, a vast edifice, squatter and broader than the slim pinnacle which contained the broadcasting room, whose lower facade was a mass of friezes in high-relief.
Lynne, as part of her cultural training on Earth, had been taken on tours of the vast temples of India, Pakistan and Malaya—including Ankhor Vat. Yet not even the incredible and bizarre reliefs of those fabulous temples, with all of their grotesqueries and solemnly religious obscenities, prepared her for what she now saw.
The pantheocratic creatures of ancient Mars were far more diverse than their counterparts on Earth—and of course utterly exotic. Here were creatures with two, three and four heads, with innumerable appendages, with reproductive organs so weird as to defy comment or moral reaction.