As for something small-well, Blade figured that he got more than enough exercise in Dimension X. He didn't have to try shoehorning himself into an undersized sports car every time he wanted to go somewhere in Home Dimension. There were a good many women who liked doing this even less. Blade's Home Dimension social life was discreet, but it was active enough for him to have to consider this angle.

So he decided on a Rover-comfortable, fast enough, cheap enough to be fairly common, expensive enough to match his cover identity as a youngish man of good family and respectable private means. What else was there left to do but go down and buy the car?

Quite a bit, unfortunately. The money for the car had to creep out of the secret account into a more open one at Barclay's Bank and from there to Blade's pocket. His cover identity had to stand up under the usual host of credit checks without arousing anyone's suspicion, or even their curiosity. Then and only then could Blade go out and behave like a more or less normal man who wanted a new car.

At least his cover identity was in his own name. Beyond a certain point false names caused more trouble and confusion than they saved. That was good. There were times when, if Blade hadn't been able to sign his own name, he'd have wondered exactly who he was.

As he approached the taxi stand, a taxi came swinging by. He raised a hand to hail it, then stepped off the curb and ran toward it as it slowed. The driver threw open the door and Blade scrambled in.

«Westminster Embankment.»

«Yes, sir.» The driver let in the clutch and the taxi whirled off down the street as Blade settled back in the seat.

Chapter 2

The massive bronze doors in front of Blade slid smoothly open with a faint hiss. He was now two hundred feet below the Tower of London, in the secret complex that housed so much of Project Dimension X.