"Surely, the Energon screen's not faltering!" It was unthinkable. "No, but at the rate it's consuming energy in warding off that electronic barrage, it's but a question of time until we're left with a mechanical and mathematically perfect screen dead from lack of power!" "And, you had in mind, Nydron...?" Bill was aware the great military expert had something to propose. Only, Nydron's strategy was never orthodox, and quite often overwhelming. Nydron shrugged his shoulders and inhaled deeply of a pungent Venusian cigarette. "We've reached a stalemate. Those fiends out there," he gestured towards the Globes, "can't penetrate our screen, but they can detonate our strato-bombs at will. The question is, which source of power will last longer, theirs or ours!" He paused, and puffed again. "Every soldier knows death's to be expected sooner or later--it's part of our creed. But you've brought a shipful of master minds, doubtless of irreplaceable value to the Inter-Planetary League. Now, if these were purely a military expedition ..." He left the rest unsaid. "In that event, what would you do?" Bill strove to be as patient as he could, for Nydron was allowing only those thoughts he wanted, to trickle through. "Employ the sub-atomic Dispersal Beam to penetrate their defensive screen, pick off individual Globes and launch radiant energy bombs as close as possible, and see if that doesn't take care of their ... what you termed their Achilles Heel. Of course," he murmured softly, "that _might hasten our end_, by using up our reserves of power all the sooner." "Sub-atomic dispersal beam!" the Martian went stiff. "Why, that might be an Energon neutralized ... you mean to say that Terra...!" "Naturally." Nydron seemed to be enjoying himself. "What else could it be? You didn't think Terra was going to remain wholly helpless? Every poison has an antidote. However, it has not been tried as yet." It was as brilliant and ruthlessly simple a plan, as only Nydron's mind could conceive. * * * * * From what Bill Nardon had witnessed in the silent city's tower, he had correlated the Cinnabarian's hyper-sensitivity to vibration. The strange being had died from the concussion of the atomo-pistol. No wonder they even filtered mental vibrations through a docile, captive mind before they permitted the telepathed messages to reach them. Bill had demanded atomo-cannon with intensified detonative power, but this--this plan to strip them of their protective screen and spray them with radiant energy bombs which continued to detonate until the last minute spark was released--if it worked, it was the answer to their problem. The danger was very great, Bill knew. But in seconds he weighed the involved factors, and found only one definitive answer. He gave it.