And again there passed the maddening job of not being able to do anything to the enemy. They patrolled the planet, but it was unsatisfactory patrol. Any ship that came too low was fired upon and collected by Guy's planet-mounted projectors. Solarians thought that they knew how to arm a planet, but Mephisto was well-nigh impregnable. Toroids stopped, torpedoes prematured, and MacMillans flashed in the sky, dissipating the energy with no harm save the blown fuses in the ships.
"How long?" asked Neville.
"Wait for Mars," smiled Monogon. "I insist that Mars be not left out. What's good enough for them is good enough for my world, too."
"He's right," said Guy. "We'll wait."
And finally Mars arrived on the scene, and the fleets went high to discuss the problem of extinguishing this menace. Guy followed their conference—and they suspected that he did. Their plan was bold. A power play, and it came in a down-thrust of the ships of three worlds. They drove toroids before them, filled the air with torpedoes, and interlaced the sky with MacMillans.
"Now?" asked Neville.
"Now," smiled Guy. His smile was bitter and hard. He stepped to the vast instrument and put the helmet over his head. His left hand turned the switch and the right hand adjusted the intensity. "Cease fire!"
The fighting stopped.
"Land!"
The inrushing of fighting ships continued, and they landed quietly, one after the other. Immediately, doors opened in three of them and three men emerged. Stiffly they walked to Maynard's headquarters where they were greeted and taken to Guy's room.