Richard Blade was walking along Westminster Embankment. A London fog swirled around him, but within his mind there was total clarity. He was running his mind back over what had happened since his return from Tharn.
Lord Leighton had managed to contain himself until he heard the full story of Blade's adventures in Tharn. Then he exploded. A return to a previously visited dimension! A people who could travel at will and regularly from one dimension to another, almost as easily as a London businessman going home to the suburbs! A people who also had antigravity, incredibly advanced power sources, at least half a dozen astounding weapons, and much else! But how much information had Blade brought back about any of these breakthroughs, other than the fact of their existence?
Nothing.
At least it was nothing from Lord Leighton's viewpoint, and as usual that was the only one the scientist would consider. Lord Leighton was a man who would maintain his views in the face of God Almighty, let alone Blade or even J. Nor would he be very tactful about how he set them out. He certainly hadn't been so this time. In fact he had set some sort of a record, for all the years Blade had watched the scientist in action.
About the return to Tharn itself there wasn't much Blade could have done, admittedly. He couldn't have expected it and it happened too fast. But the Looters, with all their marvelous scientific gifts-now that was another matter.
«What was I supposed to do?» was Blade's question.
And Lord Leighton had shrugged his shoulders and replied, «You could have always joined the Looters and found out as much about them as you could before returning home.»
A silence came down in J's apartment when Lord Leighton said that. It was the deadest, coldest silence that Blade had ever heard. He took advantage of the silence to excuse himself and leave, leave so fast that he forgot his hat and umbrella. But he knew he had to leave. If he stayed around, he would say things to Lord Leighton that might make it hard for them to work together in the future. That would be bad for the project and for England. But that didn't alter the fact that he had never been so angry in his life. In some less civilized dimensions, he would probably have snatched the scientist out of his chair and dashed out his brains against the nearest wall.
But J was no doubt calming Lord Leighton down, and the long walk in the bitter foggy air had done the same for Blade. He could now admit that Lord Leighton was perfectly within his rights in being half-wild with frustration and annoyance. Half a dozen of his cherished dreams had been handed to him practically on a silver platter, and nothing would come of them because Blade had been too damned busy saving the people!
Possibly Lord Leighton was even partly right. No, Lord Leighton was entirely right-for some other dimension. In any other dimension there would have been a point beyond which Blade owed the project more than he owed the local people. In no other dimension but Tharn would he have genuinely neglected his duties to the project-to England-by being so wholeheartedly on the side of the local people that he threw aside all the opportunities for scientific discoveries.
But Tharn was different. Tharn was the land of the people he had helped create, ruled by his son, his own son. He could not have left one stone unturned to aid them, or sacrificed one of them for any number of scientific discoveries. He knew this; J knew this, and no doubt in time Lord Leighton would calm down enough to realize it also. Meanwhile the best thing he could do was stay away from the scientist and remember what he had seen and done in Tharn this time.
It was a memory that he knew would cast a warm light down all the years of his life to come, however many they might be. He might have no son that the world knew about, but there was more than one world.
Who could be sure? Perhaps the next word about Tharn would come when someone from Tharn passed through into Home Dimension! The Peace Lords might prove a very interesting addition to Tharn-very interesting indeed.
But that was for a future Blade was quite sure he would not live to see. No matter-he had seen and done enough in Tharn, for Tharn, for the people-for his son.
He buttoned up his Burberry the rest of the way against the chill, turned, and began to walk back the way he had come.