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Updated: September 19, 2024
Arcot spent the rest of the evening teaching them the Venerian system of telepathy. They all rose at nine. Arcot got up first, and the others found it expedient to follow his example shortly thereafter. He had brought a large Tesla coil into the bedroom from the lab and succeeded in inducing sufficient voltage in the bedsprings to make very effective, though harmless, sparks.
We want to thank you for your quick response to our signals. We had not thought that you could answer us so soon." The Venerian seemed to relax as the message was finished. It obviously had required great mental effort. Arcot looked steadily into his eyes now, and tried to concentrate on a message on a series of ideas.
"Perpetual motion ridiculous!" snapped from the sending disk upon the helmet of the master of mechanism. "Not at all, Amonar," put in his fellow Venerian, "any more than a turbo-generator at the foot of a waterfall is perpetual motion. Those radiations originate we know not where, probably as a result of intra-atomic reactions.
You must get back to your wonderful ship as quickly as possible; and yet you must know what has happened here on our world in the last few years, as well as what happened twenty centuries ago. "Come with me to my office, and we will talk. When your friend has also learned, you may tell him." Quickly Arcot followed the Venerian down the long corridors of the building.
Distorted as it was, Arcot recognized the meaning without difficulty. Vocal cords wrong. Talk by brain." He switched to communication by the Venerian method, telepathically, but without hypnotism. "Good enough. When you attempted to hypnotize me, I didn't known what you wanted. It is not necessary to hypnotize to carry on communication by the method of the second world of this system.
Black behind them the night of space was pricked by points of light, the infinite multitude of the stars. Before them lay nothing. The utter emptiness of space between the galaxies. "Thlek Styrs! What happened?" asked Morey in amazement, his pet Venerian phrase rolling out in his astonishment. "Tried an experiment, and it was overly successful," replied Arcot, a worried look on his face.
The Venerian had picked up a small rectangle of black material, smooth and solid. He drew quickly upon it with what appeared to be a pencil of copper. In a moment he handed the tablet to Arcot, who reached out for it, then changed his mind, and motioned that he didn't want to burn his fingers. The old Venerian held it where Arcot could see it.
Since the ship was made of the Venerian metal, coronium, which was only slightly magnetic, the plate was obviously the magnet's only load. "Never mind. I'll tell you later. Get an I-beam, say about twenty feet long, and see if you can't help lift that crazy mass. I think we ought to manage it that way." And so it proved.
What brings you to our system? From what system do you come? What do you wish to say?" The other, not having learned the Venerian system, had great difficulty in communicating his thoughts, but Arcot learned that they had machines which would make it easier, and the terrestrian invited them into his laboratory, for the crowd was steadily growing.
You fellows might break one out and shunt it onto this circuit while Dol Kenor is hunting up something for us to look at. "Hi, old Infra-Eyes!" he went on, as the Venerian scientist waddled into the room in his bulging space-suit. "We've got something here that's right down your alley. Want to see what you can see?" "Ah, a beautiful scene!" exclaimed Dol Kenor, after one glance into the plate.
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