On the morning of his twelfth day in the Dimension of the killer plants, Richard Blade sat on the bank of a river washing his feet.

Yesterday he'd seen what he hoped would be the last of the plants, and also the first signs of intelligent life in this Dimension. One sign was a trail beaten through the last of the jungle by hooves and bare feet. Another sign was a tumbled heap of moss-covered logs, once a fair-sized house. Blade was relieved. By temperament he was a rather solitary man, but there was a such a thing as being too solitary.

Besides, a journey to Dimension X spent wrestling carnivorous plants and climbing hills in his birthday suit would produce nothing likely to increase enthusiasm and support for Project Dimension X. Blade agreed with Lord Leighton that politicians tended to be shortsighted about the need for basic research. He also agreed with the politicians that scientists like Lord Leighton often expected the ultimate value of their projects to be taken on faith.

Blade stood up, stretched, and waded farther out into the river. It was too beautiful a day for worrying about Lord Leighton's running battle with the politicians. The sky was clear, with only a few puffs of cloud, and the sun was almost hot. The river was washing away the filth of his days in the jungle, and the hills on both banks of the river were a healthy green, with none of the man-eating plants anywhere in sight.

Blade had to wade nearly out to the middle of the river before it reached his waist. He dove and rose several times, splashing happily like a porpoise, then started scrubbing off the jungle filth with handfuls of sand from the bottom of the river. By the time he'd scrubbed off all the filth, he felt as if he'd also taken off the top layer of skin, but he didn't care.