"With everyone wearing one, the effects cancel pretty well," said Guy. "Except when the wearer intends to have his thoughts read. And the larger models, set in voting places and congressional groups, will be used to broadcast on frequencies open to anyone who cares to listen. I don't intend that this thing will be used to deprive people of their right to think as they please, but it can be used wisely and well to prevent criminal cliques, ill-advised minorities, and individual criminals." "It won't work." "That I want to see for myself. At any rate, either we put a stop to this warfare that will leave Sol lifeless or we will never be able to look up into the sky ourselves." "Far too much time and wealth is spent," said Neville slowly, "in fighting or preparing for war. The research--could use some of that money. No one has even got the first inkling of a defense against the vortex--you're right, if all have it, it will wind up in death to all. I'll help Maynard." "Because you think that Terra is unable to accomplish her purpose alone?" "No," answered Neville. "It's because you are sincere. You let me read your mind--and I know." "If used for nothing else," grinned Guy, "we can assume right now that any candidate for high office must use this machine. Any who do not will find their qualifications and intentions up for argument. The graft it will kill will be wonderful." XXII. Maynard's force swept out from Mephisto, drove in toward Sol, and slipped between Terra and Venus. They passed Sol just outside of the orbit of Mercury and headed outward again. Just beyond the orbit of Terra, the souped-up detectors flared briefly and then burst into full indication. Maynard smiled wryly and said: "How can any military strategy work when both sides have mental telepathy, even though it is mechanical?" The Martian task force was plunging into space almost on an opposite course, coming forward under battle acceleration. "We're not having any," snapped Guy. "They must have heard of the trouble Terra had with us," observed Turretman Holmes. "Maybe they'd like Mephisto?" "They aren't heading for Terra," said Guy. "Well, we're being attacked, technically. Let's have at them." The indication in the detector opened, and the pattern of the Martian fleet became clear. Guy shook his head at the perfection of the space lattice. Against the vortex, a perfect space lattice meant ruin. Into the Martian fleet went Maynard's group. At terrific velocity, the two fleets met, and the vortexes flowed from Guy's ships and ran together in a mad pattern through which there was no place to pass unharmed. There was a flash of MacMillan fire. Crossed beams radiated, and the space between the ships dotted with blinding flashes of premature torpedoes. The Martians were more interested in avoiding the toroids, and their fire was desultory. The Terrans were more interested in the Martian ships, and their fire was defensive only.