by Джеффри Лорд
Apart from its condition, the location of the house made it suitable only for someone who wanted to be fairly close to London, but otherwise wanted as much solitude as he could get in southern England. That was a perfect description of Blade. He'd always been a man who preferred to walk alone, like a cat. Otherwise he'd never have gone into intelligence work and then into Project Dimension X. As time went by, his experiences in Dimension X set him more and more apart from everyone else in the world. He'd long since stopped caring about the London party circuit, with its light chatter, light minds, and light women who could give him a night's pleasure but not a minute's real companionship.
Then he came home from the forest of Binaark with the semi-intelligent hunting cat, Lorma. He wasn't going to let her spend the rest of her life in the hands of the Project's veterinarians, and their curiosity be damned! As soon as he was out of the hospital after his trip to Kaldak, he started looking for a country house. Now he'd found one, if he could only get the price down!
Blade climbed into the Rover and turned on the headlights and engine. Then he put the car in gear and started his slow creep back down the lane. Behind him the house was now completely invisible in the rain and the gathering twilight.
Blade didn't drive back to London that night. He checked into a hotel in Basingstoke, ate a good if overpriced dinner with plenty of whiskey and soda, then called his home for any recorded messages. As soon as he'd heard what J left, he called the number J used when Blade or a select handful of other people weren't using a scrambled phone.
As usual, nobody answered. Blade sipped at his drink, then said, «Record. J, this is Richard, returning your call. I'm at the Golden Keys in Basingstoke,» and gave the hotel's telephone and his own room number. «I'll come straight to the branch office. I should be there by ten A.M.
«I certainly think we ought to discuss this matter with His Excellency.[1] But I think we should put it in the form of a question-does he have any new investment plans? That should also conceal the sources of our information. End recording.»
Blade suspected that telling J to be tactful with Lord Leighton was like teaching his grandmother to suck eggs. But you couldn't be too careful in dealing with Lord Leighton, with his improbably brilliant mind and impossibly short temper. Also, J sometimes behaved toward Blade like a mother hen with one chick. Blade knew why J did this, and also knew it could sometimes cause more problems than the Project could tolerate.
Whatever J said to Leighton, Blade hoped he'd say it before Leighton discovered that his secret scheme wasn't a secret anymore. Otherwise there wouldn't be much chance of avoiding a bloody awful scene. Blade shuddered at the thought, considered having another drink, then decided against it. He was going to be getting up early if he wanted to be in London by ten tomorrow morning. He did a quick one hundred and fifty push-ups; then with his pajamas and towel over his arm, he walked into the bathroom.
Chapter 3
Unfortunately, Leighton worked faster and better than either J or Blade expected. He not only discovered that the cat was out of the bag but who'd let it out. When J learned everything the scientist had done to discover the secrets, he was impressed. He even told Leighton, «You might have had quite a career in intelligence work, if you'd wanted it.»
By then Leighton and J were on speaking terms again, so the scientist didn't tell J what he could do with intelligence work and intelligence agents. He merely grunted and raised his bushy white eyebrows higher than usual.
The morning Blade came to Complex Two, however, things were different. It wasn't at all certain that the two older men would ever be on speaking terms again. Blade suspected that Project Dimension X came closer to being wrecked that morning than it had since the affair of the KALI computer.
He walked into Leighton's office just before ten. The cordon of guards and secretaries outside were trying very hard to pretend there was nothing wrong. Blade knew that look and what it might mean, and sighed. He'd rather fight a tiger bare-handed than walk into what probably lay beyond that soundproof door, but there were no tigers around.
He opened the door to hear tight, controlled «accusation is not only ridiculous, it's adding insult to injury,» from Leighton. Blade shut the door as J replied. His voice was not as controlled as Leighton's, and his face was the color of a ripe strawberry.
«Do you think you've been injured?»
«I know I've been injured,» replied Leighton. «Spied on in my own office, at my own work, over matters which have nothing to do with Project security. What are you trying to do, find something you can use to blackmail me?»
J's face got even redder at that charge, but he fortunately couldn't find his voice. That gave Blade his chance. He'd have liked to wait until he knew a little more about what had really happened, but didn't think he had time. The two men needed a peacemaker right now.
«I think that's a rather wild accusation itself, if you don't mind my saying so,» said Blade. He looked at Leighton in a way which clearly showed he didn't care if Leighton minded or not. This got Leighton's attention long enough for J to catch his breath and recover his voice.
«I agree,» he said. «Blackmailing you never entered my mind. I admit that our man was overzealous-«
«Overzealous!» exploded Leighton. His eyebrows and hair were bristling as if they were charged with electricity.
«That damned young puppy has made it impossible for me to trust-«
«What is all the fuss about, sir?» asked Blade. He hoped this pretense of innocence would fool Leighton, and perhaps diffuse the volatile situation.
Leighton sighed. «I suppose I'd better go back and tell Richard exactly what's happened. I imagine you've already given him your version, J. Now it's my turn. With your permission?» he added sarcastically.
J nodded. «Be my guest.»
Before long, Blade was so interested in Leighton's ideas about the computer's electrical field that he was forgetting to be angry over the scientist's bad manners to J. No doubt about it-Leighton had conceived a brilliant theory. If it worked out in practice, it might be the biggest breakthrough in the history of the Project.
Would it work out in practice, though? Or would it become another KALI computer? They couldn't be sure without a full-scale test, and J was apparently in no mood to permit that. He thought Leighton was trying to sneak a major change in the Project past him. Leighton thought J was trying to take over the scientific part of the Project.
There was enough right on both sides to make it hard for Blade to choose between them. If both men hadn't lost their tempers, they'd probably have already seen this for themselves. The damage was done, however. Now it was up to Blade to repair it.
For a moment he was tempted to tell Leighton about the Prime Minister's order to J. If the scientist knew J wasn't entirely his own master in this affair, he might calm down. Unfortunately, this wasn't Blade's secret to reveal. J wouldn't have even told Blade if they hadn't been so close for so long.
«How long before the KALI capsule is fixed?» Blade asked Leighton. «The last time I heard, it would be about another month.»
The scientist's face twisted as if he'd bitten into a rotten fruit. «Now it's about six weeks. We've found a few more parts which need replacing. We've already cannibalized everything we can from the spare capsule. So now everything new has to be hand-built…. «
«I see.» Blade looked at the sketches of the field-generator booth spread across Leighton's desk. «How long would it take to build and test one of these?»
Blade wished Leighton wouldn't grin so triumphantly. «About three weeks. The beauty of this is that we can use of-the-shelf components for most of it.»
«Provided that they give an adequate margin of safety, yes,» put in J.
Leighton's mood was so much improved that he ignored the remark and went on. «With this system we don't have to be nearly as precise outside the computer itself. The field strength can vary up to twenty-five percent and still be effective-and safe,» he added, as J opene
d his mouth.
«Then it seems to me Lord Leighton ought to go ahead with the field-generator booth,» said Blade. «He can have it ready in half the time it will take to repair the KALI capsule. It'll certainly be safer than using the KALI capsule in its present condition»-Leighton nodded-«and we can be careful this time around.»
«Exactly what do you mean by that?» said J. He sounded as if he was now suspicious of Blade's motives instead of Lord Leighton's.
Blade held up one of the sketches. It showed a stick figure wearing a heavy pack and bristling with enough weapons for three men. «It will be safer because I'll be so well equipped, though in this one His Lordship has me loaded up like a pack mule. I suggest we start with something a little simpler. Say shorts, footgear, a canteen, and some sort of easily hidden weapon.»
Leighton leaned back in his chair and made a steeple of his fingers. «That's a reasonable suggestion. We can use the same fabric we used for Richard's loincloths when we were using the capsule and the electrodes. It may not make the trip, but at least we know it isn't dangerous. If we can waterproof it, we can make a canteen. With extra layers, we can make sandals.»
«What about the weapons?» asked J. Blade was relieved to hear J sound merely curious now, instead of suspicious of anybody.
«That depends on what you want, Richard. If you can manage with a knife, we have more than enough Englor Alloy Two to make one.»
The nonconducting alloy from Englor had also been thoroughly tested. A loinguard made of it had survived Blade's trip to Kaldak and back. He nodded. «A knife will be easier to make and definitely easier to hide. Also, it won't make anyone in a pretechnological Dimension suspicious the way a gun would.» He thought for a moment, then added, «If you ever want to make a long-range weapon for me, try a crossbow instead of a gun.»
«One thing at a time,» said Leighton. «We've got the production of EA Two up to five pounds a week, but that's much less than what we'll need before long. We could triple it at once with enough money for-««If Richard survives this experiment, I'll support your request for more money,» said J.
«If I survive it, I think we won't have much trouble getting the money,» said Blade. «This is going to be a big step forward.»
«Are you both quite through telling me things I already know?» said J testily. Blade and Leighton looked at each other, then nodded. «Very well. Go ahead, Leighton, and good luck to both you and Richard.»
Blade caught up with J in the parking lot. The older man was standing with his bowler hat in one hand and his rolled-up umbrella in the other. He turned as he recognized Blade's step behind him.
«Ah, Richard. Thank you for playing peacemaker. I sometimes wonder if I'm getting too old for my job. Ten years ago I'd never have let someone like Leighton bait me into losing my temper.»
«There isn't anybody like Leighton, when it comes to a sharp tongue,» said Blade mildly. «Or if there is I never want to meet him. Besides, ten years ago we weren't involved in anything quite as important as the Project.»
«No, we weren't,» said J. «But I still shouldn't have lost my temper. And you shouldn't have agreed so enthusiastically to going along with Leighton's brainstorm. It's only going to encourage him to be careless-some other time, if not this one. Richard, I have to ask you. Do you think your judgment is slipping? I'd hardly blame you if it was, considering all that you've been through, but…» He let his voice trail off.
Blade nodded. He understood J's reason for the question. Apart from his personal affection for Blade, J was worried about his sense of self-preservation. The popular notion about secret agents being daredevils was a long way from the truth. They had to be brave, of course, and never hesitate to take necessary risks. They had to be equally firm against unnecessary ones, and good at telling the two apart. Field agents who didn't learn this were dangerous to themselves, their comrades, their informants, and the security of their organizations. Blade knew of cases where an agent's own people terminated him because he was too fond of unnecessary risks. Sometimes even an experienced agent like Blade started losing his grip, and if that was the case now, the sooner J knew the better.
Blade shrugged. «I'd probably be the last one to know if I was getting sloppy. Dimension X is a completely unpredictable environment, so it's hard to say what's an unnecessary risk. I don't really think I'm in trouble, though. Not yet. Besides, with Leighton's field-generator booth, my safety seems more certain than ever-not to mention the safety of some other Dimension X traveler, should such a candidate ever present himself.» Or herself, Blade thought. Sooner or later, there would be someone else besides Blade. The only question was, who?
Lord Leighton was better than his word, not only about producing the field-generator booth quickly but also about testing it thoroughly. The list of tests he'd performed on its components ran to six typewritten pages. By the time the booth was ready, Leighton was a red-eyed, tottering wreck, who looked every day of his age. J practically ordered him to put off the trip for a couple of days in order to get a decent night's sleep and a few solid meals.
Blade spent the extra days finishing the paper work on the option for the country house and saying good-bye to Lorma. On past trips there'd always been a last night or two with girl friends. This time there wasn't any human being Blade felt as close to as he did to Lorma, except for J and Lord Leighton. He knew he shouldn't feel this much apart from his fellow human beings, but doubted he could do anything about it. His experiences in Dimension X were driving him further and further apart from the rest of the human race in this Dimension, and that was all there was to it.
In the familiar changing room carved out of the rock wall of the underground Complex One, Blade went through an unfamiliar routine. He started as usual by stripping himself naked and smearing himself with rancid-smelling grease for protection against electrical burns. He used a lighter coating than he'd ever used before, though, one barely visible against his tanned skin. Then he began pulling on the new equipment.
There was the wire loinguard. There were blue waterproof shorts over them, with a belt of the same material. On the belt he tied a collapsible fabric canteen with a rubber stopper and sandals built up from several layers of the fabric. Finally he picked up a stiff cloth sheath and tied it to his left arm. Inside the sheath was a knife made entirely of Englor Alloy Two, except for a thin coating of plastic on the handle to give a better grip. It was a duplicate of the famous Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife used by the British Commandos in World War II. Forty years later it was still one of the best combat knives around, particularly in the hands of a trained fighter like Blade.
Blade looked at himself in the mirror, trying to get used to the new image. He decided it was going to take awhile. He looked like a cross between a champion weight lifter and a California surfer. He stepped out of the changing room and started threading his way through the consoles of the computer. He wasn't sure if he felt overdressed or underdressed, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong with the amount of clothing he had on.
At last he reached the spot in the center of the computer where the KALI capsule had stood. In its place was the amazingly simple field-generator booth, a rectangular frame of light steel I-beams completely encased in fine-gauge wire. The box stood freely on a thick insulating pad of rubber. The only thing which still bothered Blade slightly was the small size of the booth. There'd be only a few inches of air between him and the charged wires on all sides. Making the booth much larger would have meant heavy insulation all around, though, or the risk of affecting the computer. That would be far more dangerous to Blade than an electrical field, which Leighton could always cut off at the touch of a button.
That was the real beauty of the new system, as even J had to admit. Its success depended primarily on the computer, which was a tried and tested precision instrument, capable of being adjusted to the finest tolerances the human mind could imagine. Right now it was probably working even better than usual, thanks to its recent overhaul
. It could generate a field matching Blade's brain waves with no trouble at all, and that was the only thing which had to be done exactly right. Everything else in the operation of the field-generator booth had a bigger margin for error built into it than Blade hoped they'd ever need.
He realized suddenly that Leighton and J were both staring at him. He'd been woolgathering while they were waiting for him to step into the booth and get their part of the job over with. He mentally kicked himself and took a deep breath.
«I'm ready.»
Leighton pressed a button on a hastily rearranged master control panel, and the booth rose into the air. To make sure the electrical field was even all around Blade, the mesh was one unbroken piece. The only opening in the booth was at the bottom. For Blade to get inside, the booth was lifted off the rubber pad by a winch, then lowered back over him. As the booth settled back in place over Blade, he shifted his footing to give himself as much room on all sides as he could.
«Ready, Richard?» said J. Blade would have given a thumbs-up sign, but he didn't dare raise either arm that far. Instead he nodded.
Lord Leighton's hand came down on the master switch. The world around Blade turned into a blaze of light, forcing him to shut his eyes. For a moment all was silence, then he heard an ominous crackling and smelled pungent smoke. Had the experiment failed? Even worse, had it started an electrical fire in the complex?
Chapter 4
A moment later, the smells in the smoke told Blade he'd made the transition safely and was in Dimension X. He identified burning wood, straw, and manure, as well as another stench which a man never forgets once he's smelled it for the first time.
Burning human flesh.
Somewhere close at hand was battle, fire, or disaster.
Blade opened his eyes. He was standing in the same position he'd been in when Leighton pulled the switch, with all his equipment and clothing apparently intact. He was also facing a weathered timber wall with smoke oozing out of the joints between the boards. On top of the wall a thatched roof was blazing, dropping embers and hot ashes all around Blade. On either side was more smoke, a few dimly seen figures scurrying through it, and other figures lying still on the ground. Behind Blade was a stand of evergreen trees. He quickly retreated into their cover, then pulled on his sandals. If he'd had time, he would have savored this pleasure of putting something on his feet, but this looked like a good place to leave as soon as possible.