as he again manipulated his tiny
force-tube.

* * * * *

Every light was extinguished and there was felt a profoundly deep
vibration--a note so low as to be palpable rather than audible; and
simultaneously the utter darkness was relieved by a tinge of red so dark
as to be barely perceptible, while a peculiar somber fragrance pervaded
the atmosphere. The music rapidly ran the gamut to the limit of
audibility and, in the same tempo, the lights traversed the visible
spectrum and disappeared. Then came a crashing chord and a vivid flare
of blended light; ushering in an indescribable symphony of sound and
color, accompanied by a slower succession of shifting, blending odors.

The quality of tone was now that of a gigantic orchestra, now that of a
full brass band, now that of a single unknown instrument--as though the
composer had had at his command every overtone capable of being produced
by any possible instrument, and with them had woven a veritable tapestry
of melody upon an incredibly complex loom of sound. As went the harmony,
so the play of light accompanied it. Neither music nor illumination came
from any apparent source; they simply pervaded the entire room. When the
music was fast--and certain passages were of a rapidity impossible for
any human fingers to attain--the lights flashed in vivid, tiny pencils,
intersecting each other in sharply drawn, brilliant figures, which
changed with dizzying speed; when the tempo was slow, the beams were
soft and broad, blending into each other to form sinuous, indefinite,
writhing patterns, whose very vagueness was infinitely soothing.

"What do you think of it, Mrs. Seaton?" Orlon asked.

"Marvelous!" breathed Dorothy, awed. "I never imagined anything like it.
I can't begin to tell you how much I like it. I never dreamed of such
absolute perfection of execution, and the way the lighting accompanies
the theme is just too perfectly wonderful for words! It was incredibly
brilliant."

"Brilliant--yes. Perfectly executed--yes. But I notice that you say
nothing of depth of feeling or of emotional appeal." Dorothy blushed
uncomfortably and started to say something, but Orlon silenced her and
continued: "You need not apologize. I had a reason for speaking as I
did, for in you I recognize a real musician, and our music is indeed
entirely soulless. That is the result of our ancient civilization. We
are so old that our music is purely intellectual, ent