“Mars we could say is a symbol for the combustion engendered by fire, the same as Uranus is, in a way, a symbol of explosiveness, and Neptune seems to represent a sort of disintegration, diffusion and slow separation of atoms, not by explosion but by attrition.”
To Roger it was all pretty much like Egyptian hieroglyphics but the man seemed to be talking what he considered sensible phrases.
“Let us say that we place a pellet of putty between two machines, one engendering a force like repulsion; the other giving quick, and very high-frequency stabs of current toward the other. The answer might be that the pellet would explode or fly into its atoms.
“But,” the old man went on, “The force of cohesion would hold our earth together in such an experiment, though the volume or size of the tiny pellet would be too little for it to act on sufficiently to keep the form together. That, in a way, is what so many people misunderstand when they talk about astrology. Properly used, correctly interpreted, it enables us to understand our reactions—emotions——”
Roger was in the next room, loading the papers on the dumb-waiter to send to the cellar. As he came back, gathering up more, Astrovox, as if he had ranted along on his favorite topic without ceasing, said:
“—fire.” He stood up. “Where were you? I was telling about Mars and Uranus exploding things and starting fires.”
“I have to work.”
“Yes, that’s so. Well, this is your last load.”
Roger gathered the great heap of heavy wrapping paper, and left him shifting one bed of plants from under a deep ruby glass so that they would be exposed to a pale green color filtration.
Going down to remove the papers from the dumb-waiter, Roger saw Mr. Millman finish recording the multitude of gyrations of a sparking motor shaft which Mr. Ellison was photographing with his camera.