Sir Basil, as though he had made a sudden decision, went over to that part of his machine which he called the molecule-disintegrator.
“Oakham!” he called out. “I have taken you partly into my confidence. Now I want to show you something. Come here.”
Hale obeyed with misgivings. The scientist pointed out the window to a group of Indians, anxious relatives of Unani Assu.
“Watch!” he ordered.
Turning one of the projectors on the machine toward the window, he sighted carefully and pressed a button.
Immediately one of the Indians fell to the ground and struggled. His companions 304 began dancing around him in evident joy. Faintly to the laboratory came a familiar chant, which Hale recognized as Aña’s death song.
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Dust to dust Mind to Mind— He will shed his body As the green snake sheds his skin. |
As Hale watched, the struggling Indian’s body seemed to shrink, and then, instantly, it disappeared.
“Watch them scatter the dust!” said the scientist.
One of the Indians stooped and blew upon the grass.