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Dimension of Dreams
Blade 11
by Jeffrey Lord
Chapter One
Richard Blade looked up at the forty-foot aluminum mast to the spi
And then he raised his voice to carry over the wind and shouted to be heard below in the cabin of the motorsailer, «A
A muffled acknowledgment floated out from behind the polished teak door. Then the door swung open and Lady A
He didn't care much for having to drop the spi
The oiled winch worked smoothly, but he had not expected it to do anything else. Everything aboard A
That was why he was aboard her motorsailer this spring day. Blade had all the assets needed to make him attractive to women. Good looks, an athletic body well over six feet tall, charm, apparent wealth, and (as those women who carried matters far enough discovered) abounding virility. There were always women around him, and among them were always a good many who could not help imagining themselves as Mrs. Blade.
Which was impossible. Richard Blade was not merely the imposing, middle-aged man-about-town he seemed. In reality he was the best secret agent the intelligence office MI6 had ever possessed. He had survived the better part of twenty years of the deadliest sort of fieldwork. And more than fieldwork.
What often seemed like half a lifetime ago, Britain's leading computer expert, Lord Leighton, had conducted an experiment directly linking a man's mind to his latest computer. That man had been Blade. With his combined qualities of mind and body, he had been the perfect-well, call it the perfect guinea pig.
And now he was still a guinea pig. The computer had hurled Blade straight into another dimension with a Dark Ages level of civilization. Only those qualities of mind and body that had led to his selection in the first place kept Blade alive to return to his own dimension. Those same qualities had kept him alive-at times by the narrowest of margins-during nine more trips into nine different dimensions, or at least nine different aspects of what Lord Leighton called Dimension X.
Project Dimension X had been launched the moment Blade returned from his first trip. The value to England of being able to penetrate and explore other dimensions and bring back their wealth or knowledge was obvious. Blade's superior, the man called J, who headed MI6, had reluctantly parted with his best agent. The prime minister himself had fu
Obviously, either his luck or his endurance would run out sooner or later if they kept sending him back. Blade knew it and took it for granted. J also knew it and was horrified at the thought. Lord Leighton knew it and usually seemed quite indifferent. There was a subproject afoot to find other qualified candidates for trips into Dimension X, and both J and the prime minister had given it their blessing and their personal support. But so far it had produced nothing. Blade was still indispensable.
So he could not marry. Few women could tolerate having their husbands suddenly snatched away on mysterious errands for weeks or months at a time and unexpectedly returning scarred, ta
Now the spi
A
She frowned. «Not unless we want to make the approach after dark.»
Blade shook his head.
She gri
Blade looked at A
Suddenly a shout of surprise from A
Blade watched tiny figures appear on the submarine's bridge, and then a patch of white that grew suddenly larger as the wind caught it and whipped it out stiff and brilliant in the sun-the white ensign of the Royal Navy. An impulse to follow what had once been tradition moved Blade. He reached for the halyard of the motorsailer's own flag and pulled gently, so that it dipped twice. Across the water there was a flurry of motion on the submarine's bridge. Blade realized he had caught them by surprise with the traditional gesture. Probably no one aboard the submarine, from the captain on down, had ever witnessed this act. But then the white ensign shivered and moved down and then up with stately grace. Blade smiled-the Royal Navy could usually come up punching.