In the brief respite Curt remembered Landreth, and the _Energon-form_. The same thing was happening now! The bodies coalesced with an inner aura of electric-blue. Four _Energons_ emerged swiftly and hung poised, spinning, crackling with angry radiance. Then they darted forward. "Don't let them touch you!" Curt hurled Lorine aside, sprang forward with rifle upraised. Before he could touch the firing stud, the _Energons_ were tumbling back, wildly--as if in panic! Curt stared. It wasn't his weapon they feared-- Then Curt knew! _It was Tor Ekkov's voice behind him, sending his strident, high-pitched aria into the telector-beam to Mars. Sound! These things feared super-sonic sound!_ Lorine screamed, clutched at Curt's arm. Far down the corridor, reaching almost from wall to wall, the huge bulk of the Zemmd itself sped toward them. Streamers of angry violet splashed before it, illuminating the scene. The Zemmd's own men tumbled pell-mell out of the way. The four smaller _Energons_ sped toward the parent bulk, touched, and merged. But the Zemmd never paused. Tor's high-pitched tune seemed not to affect it! A heavy potential rose crackling from the walls. Lorine crumpled and went down. Jeffers, reeling upon his feet, still blasted with the electro but to no avail. Part of the potential washed upon Curt and sent him staggering.... Curt hurled himself back into the room, jabbed the rifle at Tor before the Martian knew what was happening. "Sing, damn you, keep singing! Send your song to Mars! You were right after all!" Tor's eyes went wide, but he needed no urging. He sang! The Martian sibilants were meaningless to Curt, nor did he care. Tor's voice reached the higher octaves, far higher than any operatic star of Earth! Down the scale, then up, and up, endlessly, Tor sang his message to Mars. It took on a savage note, something of the pagan was in it--and something of fright. For now it was Curt who had gone mad with fanatical purpose! "Sing, damn you, or I'll blast you where you stand." He reached to Tor's side and lifted the electro. He reached to the Tele-panel and fumbled at the controls. Suddenly the sound amplified a thousand-fold. It flooded the room, reverberating, rebounding into the corridor from wall to wall, as selenic cells poured additional power into the instrument. "Sing!" Curt shouted. And Tor nodded. Sanity seemed to come back to him, and he realized what was happening. Curt hurried to the corridor. Already the Zemmd's potential was diminishing! The great bulk was tumbling back, trying to escape the waves of strident sound that washed upon it. Now Curt could _feel_ the shrieking crescendo, like a file rasping over naked nerve-ends. And the Zemmd seemed to disintegrate! The color died away. It broke apart into hundreds of the smaller _Energon_ shapes. They were dull and disorganized now, moving aimlessly, crashing into the walls where they clung, then slid to the floor.