“Your own sacred Book tells of the—is it not the Tower of Babel?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And is there not the word that prophets, as fire descended upon their heads, spoke ‘with many tongues’?”
“Yes, sir——”
“We, in Tibet, have methods for reproducing many miracles—as they would seem to you, for all of your scientific wisdom. Let me show you.”
As though understanding what was to come, the lama approached, and under the steady gaze of the other, seemed to assume a trance-like fixedness of expression. Standing, his body was still rigid, but he did not sway or totter or fall.
Presently, as Roger and Tip watched, knowing it might be hypnotism, but still marveling at the produced result, they heard:
“I am in a great laboratory.” And the man used perfect English, not even slightly inflected as had been that of the other, “There is an office with a pair of desks. At one, a woman typewrites. At the other, Grover Brown interviews his staff, and tells what Roger has sent him by the Morse code and which he ‘picked up’ on four stages of radio-frequency and three audio.”
It was almost weird, uncanny. Of course, there might be such a thing as mind-reading—but——
“In the chemical division, a man, Zendt, experiments with tissue, and a new—to him—process for causing a medicinal reaction by the application of Ellison’s sun-lamp.