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Chapter 21
There was a faint click in the silent library as Lord Leighton switched the tape recorder off. The silence returned, more thickly than ever. Outside J's flat a drizzling rain was falling, but the thick curtains over the windows kept both sound and the street lights out.
J let out his breath in a long whistling sigh. «No wonder Blade was in such a foul temper when he came back. Doesn't get to take a crack at the fellow responsible for all that rumpus on the river, doesn't get to bring back a sample of the healing drug, and nearly gets eaten alive by the river fish before we can bring him home. He must have ended up feeling that all fates were against him.»
Leighton nodded, but it was obvious to J that the scientist's mind was somewhere else. Finally he stood up and began pacing around the room, hands clasped behind his back and head bowed.
«J, we've absolutely got to push for a breakthrough on the Controlled Return Project. We've got to be able to send Blade-«
«Or somebody,» put in J.
«Or somebody,» said Leighton, testy at the interruption. «But we've got to be able to get back to this dimension and find those plants. Even a sample might be enough. If we could get even one of those pads, we could turn it over to the chemists and get it analyzed. And then turn the analysis over to one of the pharmaceutical firms, and we'd be able to give England a complete dominance of the pharmaceutical market.»
«Not to mention all the lives that would be saved,» said J quietly.
«To be sure, to be sure,» said Leighton. «But you do agree with me, don't you, J? We've simply got to get somebody back to this dimension. It's as important in a way as the dimension of the Menel.»
Considerably more important, thought J. The discovery of the nonhuman Menel in the Dimension of the Ice Dragons was earth-shaking enough, but rather remote from the average man's concerns. But the discovery of the healing drug that the cult of Ayocan extracted from the bush by the lake was something that would instantly justify the Project in the eyes of the most conservative and hardheaded M.P. or his constituents. And there were always the lives that could be saved. How many thousands or tens of thousands each year? J didn't know. He didn't even feel qualified to guess. But he had to admit he liked the idea of giving England something that would help heal, not kill, from the Project. He had dealt with death and secrets of death for most of his life. He would like a change.
And he would also like a change for Blade. The chap was certain to be willing to go back, but damn it, there was such a thing as flogging a willing horse! And if the Controlled Return technique was ever perfected, it would almost certainly mean that Blade would go on making trips into Dimension X. Even if they found a new man for trips into new dimensions, they would still need Blade to go back into the old ones, the ones that he had pioneered. Would perfecting Controlled Return amount in fact to a death sentence for Blade?
Perhaps. But J knew that he could not stand in the way of what England needed-what the world needed. And certainly not anything like this healing drug. He could not and would not, because Blade himself would not want him to.
«All right,» J said. «Shall I arrange an appointment with the Prime Minister?»
«Yes,» said Leighton. «Do that.»