“Then the jug was what Harper wanted,” Carter said, his voice just a bit too calm, calm to keep the terror out.
The spaceship had settled on the floor, was rapidly expanding.
“Quick, Elmer,” urged Lathrop, “tell me how the Martians grew small.”
Elmer was silent.
“Buster said it was tied up with the fourth dimension,” Lathrop said. “I can’t figure what the fourth dimension has to do with it.”
Elmer still was silent, silent so long Lathrop thought he wasn’t going to speak. But finally his thoughts came, spaced and measured with care, precise:
“To understand it you must think of all things as having a fourth dimension or fourth-dimensional possibilities, although all things do not have a fourth-dimensional sense. The Martians haven’t. Neither have the Earthmen. We can’t recognize the fourth dimension in actuality, although we can in theory.
“To become small, the Martians simply extended themselves in the direction of the fourth dimension. They lost mass in the fourth-dimensional direction, which reduced their size in the other three dimensions. To put it graphically, they took the greater part of themselves and shoved that greater part away where it wouldn’t bother them. They became subatomically small in the first three dimensions, extended their fourth dimension billions of times its original mass.”
Lathrop nodded slowly, thoughtfully. It was a novel idea — all things had a fourth dimension even if they didn’t know it, couldn’t know it, since they had no sense which would recognize the fourth dimension.
“Like stretching a rubber band,” said Carter. “It becomes longer but thinner. Its mass is increased in length, reduced in breadth and thickness.”