Or worse than embarrassing. That was another problem this Dimension offered, one which Blade had only rarely encountered before. This was an advanced, civilized, organized society, one that was also on the very edge of war.

In more primitive Dimensions, Blade could escape punishment for mistakes by simply hitting the nearest dozen people over the head and taking to his heels. No one could follow him faster than a horse could gallop, and no one could search him out in the wilderness if he didn't want to be found. No one would think his behavior at all unusual, either.

Here in Englor things would be very different. He would have to escape from a dozen men with Uzis, not a dozen with swords or spears. If he did escape, they could pursue him in cars and helicopters and planes, with tear gas and rifles with telescopic sights and infrared detection devices for night work.

If by some chance he did get clear, there would be no wilderness with game and fruit to live on, or wandering tribesmen and hunters to take him in. There would be cities and suburbs, towns and villages, farms no farther than a telephone call from their neighbors. Everywhere there would be hotelkeepers and salesclerks and bus drivers, asking for money or identification or both before they would lift a finger to do anything for him.

Of course, hitting people in the first place simply wouldn't do! Hitting one person would get him locked up. Hitting a dozen would get him locked up for a long time. Killing anybody would be even worse. Blade somehow did not think Englor would be reluctant to impose the death penalty.

Blade was no foolish romantic believer in the virtues of primitive societies. He was very conscious of the advantages of antibiotics, jet planes, hot showers, and guns. At the same time, he was painfully aware that it was a much tougher proposition escaping from civilized captors, if and when escaping became necessary.