Perhaps. In the meantime, Blade's profession as an explorer of other dimensions made continuous trouble for him in his day-to-day existence in this one!

Take the matter of a new car, for example. Just before his last trip into Dimension X, Blade's MG had burned out a bearing. The car had been needing a lot of repairs recently, so Blade decided that it was time to say goodbye to the MG and get the best new car that he could afford. His means were a good deal better than the average Englishman's-much of what Blade brought back from Dimension X was gold and jewels, some worked or mounted, some raw. The raw gold and jewels were examined, then judiciously and quietly sold off through MI6 channels. Most of the money went to finance the project-its appetite for new equipment and new people never stopped growing-but the elderly spymaster known only as J insisted that some of the money go to Blade. He loved the younger man as he would have loved a son if marriage and a family had ever been part of his life. He saw no reason why Blade should not receive some tangible reward for all the time he spent in deadly danger on the very secret service of Her Majesty the Queen. Blade protested, but J insisted and went on insisting.

So a secret account was set up-again through MI6 channels-and bit by bit money trickled into it. Enough bits added up to quite a respectable sum. At the moment the balance in the account stood at just under fifty thousand pounds. Even with inflation, that was not a despicable sum of money.

It was certainly more than enough to buy any sort of car Blade might let himself dream of, even a Rolls-Royce or a Ferrari. A spectacularly expensive car, however, would make him conspicuous. It was not wise for a man in Blade's position to be conspicuous.