«… refuse to use the word 'apologize' under the circumstances.»
«Richard, there's no point in not calling a spade a spade. I realize you're reluctant to save Lord Leighton's pride after what he said to you-«
«You're bloody right I'm reluctant!»
«-but do you see anything else to do? Richard, if you're going to be stubborn about this, I'm going to question the soundness of your judgment.»
«Is that a threat?»
«It is not,» said J in the chilliest voice Blade could recall hearing him use in years. «It's simply a statement of fact.»
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask J what right he had to try making up the quarrel between Blade and Lord Leighton, considering how he'd lost his temper with the scientist not too long ago, but refrained. If he said it, there'd simply be a quarrel with J added to the one with Lord Leighton.
«I'll talk to you tomorrow,» he said briskly to J, and hung up. It was the first time he'd hung up on J. He felt that he was showing rather a lot of self-restraint in not slamming the receiver down.
He went over to the sideboard and poured himself a large whiskey. It was only his second of the evening. He didn't plan to get drunk-not tonight. He wasn't that angry yet.
«Yeeeep?»
«All right, Cheeky. You can have something, too.»
Blade opened another can of preserved fruit and added some salted nuts, then poured the mixture into a bowl and set it on the sideboard. Cheeky jumped up and began munching happily, his tail waving back and forth.
Good thing nobody can see how happy he is, thought Blade. They'd suspect my story. Blade had claimed that because of their telepathic link, he and Cheeky had developed a strong bond, and the feather-monkey would refuse to eat if Blade was not present. Thus Cheeky would have to stay with him until he adjusted to Home Dimension. The Project scientists were too afraid of losing the creature not to let Blade have his way. So the Feathered One came home with his master. There he would stay, if not until hell froze over, at least for a month or two.
If the scientists suspected that he had lied to keep Cheeky away from them, however, they would have fits. They would also join forces with Lord Leighton, and then all the scientific staff of Project Dimension X would be on bad terms with Richard Blade. He knew that before this happened, he'd have to back down. As little as he liked the idea of eating crow, he knew he'd do it if the alternative was wrecking the Project.
Indeed, it appeared that the earlier squabble between Leighton and J over the spymaster's intelligence work was minor in comparison with the state of affairs in the Project now. As soon as Blade had returned from Dimension X, everybody began yelling at everybody else. Leighton was furious because Blade had brought back only a monkey and nothing else, even failing to return with the shorts and sandals. Blade could hardly control his voice as he explained that these «clothes» didn't even make good underwear, and that from the looks he got when he first appeared in Dimension X, he'd have been better off stark naked, the way he usually was when he arrived. At least the commando knife had proved useful, and he had returned with that, though he would have preferred a weapon more like those used in the other Dimension. Then Leighton and J both began questioning Blade's powers of judgment for not finding out about the metal reflector and the mysterious Fathers, and Blade lost all patience as he angrily explained that his attachments to people in other Dimensions sometimes took priority over learning the mysteries of their lands. By the time the meeting ended, no one was talking to anyone else, and it seemed that for all anyone cared the Project could collapse.
Blade was going to have to do something, but he wasn't going to do it soon, no matter what J said! If Lord Leighton was going to say things like «Richard's more loyal to the girls he picks up in Dimension X than he is to the Project,» he bloody well ought to stew in his own juice for a few days! No doubt Leighton and J had reason to be angry about Blade's failure to learn anything about the origins of the Feathered Ones or the reflector. But most of the failure wasn't his fault, and there was absolutely no call to insult Miera's memory. None at all.
Blade discovered that his whiskey was gone and considered pouring a third. He hadn't yet made up his mind when there was a knock on the door.
It was one of the Special Branch men assigned to the Project, with a small attache case chained to his wrist. «Mr. Blade? A letter for you, from Lord Leighton. You'll have to sign for it.»
Blade got out a pen. It seemed unlikely that Leighton had reached the point of sending him letter bombs. He signed for the letter but waited until the door was closed and locked before opening it.
It was a good thing he did. When he'd read the letter and looked at the other item in the envelope, he poured himself a third whiskey. Then he sat down and read the letter again. If he read it often enough, he might really believe it.
Dear Richard,
I apologize for everything I said in connection with what you did or left undone in the Dimension of the Crimson River. Absolutely, and without reservation, I apologize. It was not your fault that you could not learn more about the origins of the Feathered Ones. Even if it was, I had no right to insult the memory of Miera, for whom you obviously cared very much.
I have never married, never contemplated doing so, and never really missed it. My work has always given me as much order in my life as I needed. I am not sure that you are the same type of man.
I'd also like to mention that my hopes for the Project have grown by leaps and bounds, now that we've all had a chance to calm down. I won't even try to keep secret from J and his spies the fact that our new field-generator booth is a total success, and that I have great plans for eventually sending you and your feather-monkey friend to Dimension X. I also have some ideas for a new weapon we can send with you, and I've come up with an outfit I think you'll really like.
Meanwhile, I understand you have been thinking of buying a country house. I don't know how far your plans have gone, but it would certainly be a step in the right direction if you did so. I therefore enclose this contribution to your house fund.
Yours sincerely, Leighton
«This contribution» was a check on Lloyd's Bank for twenty-five thousand pounds. Blade read the letter a third time, poured himself a fourth whiskey, then carefully put the check in his pocket. His fellow human beings were the kind of mysteries that made Dimension X look simple and predictable. This wasn't a new discovery, but he'd seldom had the fact shoved in his face this way!
He sipped at his whiskey and scratched Cheeky all over from his head to the base of his tail. So now he would have a companion after all, traveling with him to Dimension X. But Blade put such thoughts out of his mind so that he could concentrate on the present. He took out the check and looked at it again. Twenty-five thousand pounds-more than enough to buy and rebuild that house in Hampshire. He'd telephone the real-estate people in the morning.
Then, with any luck, he could have a month to himself; during which he wouldn't even need to remember that there was such a place as Dimension X.