"If any man was pleased with the success of this undertaking, Rene must have been. He achieved it with great risk, in a hazardous flight into the sub-stratosphere. We must at least give him credit for this daring feat, also for the cleverness of his Martian code, which he sent by wireless from this great height, and the perfect artistry of English into which it was so easily transcribed by Mr. Olinski. My suspicions of Rene's sub-stratosphere performance, in his plane, were confirmed after I had discovered a visored aluminum helmet, and a rubber fabric suit, in which he had received oxygen, hidden under some rubbish in the hangar.
"It is perfectly amazing to me how he accomplished two such remarkable feats in one night, transmitting the Martian message from the sub-stratosphere, garbling it and fading out, to indicate ethereal disturbance, and dropping the rocket on the water-front. Oh, he must have dropped it from his plane while flying low over the beach! There can be no other explanation. He had plenty of time in which to return to the field, after the altitude flight, attach the rocket under the plane, on the principle of a bomber, with Orkins' assistance, of course, and soar off again. The rocket appears heavy, but, as you know, it is constructed of comparatively light metal, and, without fuel, is easily handled. The exterior of the rocket was purposely fired in advance, I found, to give the effect of its having traveled through the earth's atmosphere at great speed.
"In this stunt, he had the spectacular accessory of the falling meteors, and he added to the realism by sending off a great quantity of fire-works from the plane when he dropped the rocket on the beach. There was little chance of his plane being detected at this time of night; he was just another strange traveler in the sky. He carried enough fire-works to equip a Fourth of July celebration. In my investigation, I found a dozen or so burned out Roman candles, and other unused fire-works, which he had secreted under his work-bench in the hangar.
"His mission achieved, he went into retreat. For weeks we lived in practical isolation, while the world buzzed with the great Martian revelations, and honors were heaped upon Mr. Royce. It is not easy for the mind to grasp how Rene managed to put over this stupendous hoax, having as its object the humiliation of a bitterly hated rival, unless one considers that it was the cold-blooded scheme of a great mind gone wrong. And into that deranged mind there must have gleamed some light of inspiration. His detailed description of life as it exists at present on Mars, which he set forth in the cuneiform code, contained in the scroll, I consider marvelous—absolutely marvelous. It is logical, and it rings true. No scientist, ancient or modern, has ever given a more plausible picture of the history of Mars, and conditions of life there. No scientist in his right mind would have been so fearless. But Rene—the madman—dared.
"I'm sorry it isn't true. I want it to be true. I want to think there are people like ourselves living on Mars. We know now that it is technically possible to bridge the space between us with radio, to register our music, our ideas, in that planet. And we need the Martian ideas, and their hopes and illusions, as well, to buoy up our drooping spirit, just as much as they need ours. Perhaps, after we're all dead and buried, this revelation from Mars will come. Radio was given to the world to bring about universal harmony, to bring nations closer together. Why not interstellar harmony? Oh, it's coming! Who knows?
"And now, my friends, since I've given you every detail I can think of, what have you to say?"
There was deep silence for a few moments, and then I spoke. "Your findings and deductions, Mrs. LaRauche, are all very wonderful, and very convincing," I said; "but there is still one very important matter to be cleared up. It may be that your memory is at fault."
"Something important that I've overlooked?" Mrs. LaRauche asked, thoughtfully.
"Quite so," I replied. "We have awaited breathlessly for your theory regarding the passenger in the rocket—the man-ape."
"The dear, lamented ambassador of good will from Mars," Henry burst out, with a deep tremor in his voice; "the late Mr. Zzyx!"