The words were unintelligible.  The language was totally unlike anything ever heard on the earth.  And yet, deliberately if somewhat cringingly, the voice proceeded with what was apparently a recitation.  There were modulations, pauses, sentences; but seemingly the paragraphs were all short and to the point.

As the thing went on the four men came closer and watched the operation of the machine.  The ribbon unrolled slowly; it was plain that, if the one topic occupied the whole reel, then it must have the length of an ordinary chapter.  And as the voice continued, certain dramatic qualities came out and governed the words, utterly incomprehensible though they were.  There was a real thrill to it.

After a while they stopped the thing.  “No use listening to this now,” as the doctor said.  “We’ve got to learn a good deal more about these people before we can guess what it all means.”

And yet, although all were very hungry, on Jackson’s suggestion they tried out one of the “records” that was brought from that baffling anteroom.  Smith was very much interested in that unopened door, and Van Emmon was in the midst of it when Jackson started the motor.

The geologist’s words stuck in his throat.  The disk was actually shaking with the vibrations of a most terrific voice.  Prodigiously loud and powerful, its booming, resonant bass smote the ears like the roll of thunder.  It was irresistible in its force, compelling in its assurance, masterful and strong to an overpowering degree.  Involuntarily the men from the earth stepped back.

On it roared and rumbled, speaking the same language as that of the other record; but whereas the first speaker merely used the words, the last speaker demolished them.  One felt that he had extracted every ounce of power in the language, leaving it weak and flabby, unfit for further use.  He threw out his sentences as though done with them; not boldly, not defiantly, least of all, tentatively, he spoke with a certainty and force that came from a knowledge that he could compel, rather than induce his hearers to believe.

It took a little nerve to shut him off; Van Emmon was the one who did it.  Somehow they all felt immensely relieved when the gigantic voice was silenced; and at once began discussing the thing with great earnestness.  Jackson was for assuming that the first record was worn and old, the last one, fresh and new; but after examining both tapes under a glass, and seeing how equally clear cut and sharp the impressions all were, they agreed that the extraordinary voice they had heard was practically true to life.

They tried out the rest of the records in that batch, finding that they were all by the same speaker.  Nowhere among the ribbons brought from the library was another of his making, although a great number of different voices was included; neither was there another talker with a fifth the volume, the resonance, the absolute power of conviction that this unknown colossus possessed.