Blade's first mental reaction must have been negative. Cheeky stood up, yeeeping indignantly, his feathers bristling, shaking both paws at Lord Leighton. «Easy, Cheeky, easy,» said Blade.

Leighton went on. «Cheeky is particularly suitable because of his small size, and his association with Blade.» (J noted that Leighton didn't use the word «telepathy.») «He is also intelligent enough to survive for a while if he and Blade got separated.»

«A short while, yes,» said Blade dubiously. «But that depends on the climate and the weather. I'll have to ask him.» Leighton's eyebrows rose, and Blade's voice hardened. «If you treat him as an experimental animal with no will of his own, I won't take him. I won't even leave him in your hands while I'm gone, and the devil take the Official Secrets Act!»

J nodded. He rather wished Richard hadn't forced the issue so bluntly, but he certainly had the, right of it.

«Very well,» said Leighton. «You can ask his consent. But before you do, let me finish, if you please.»

«The worst danger,» Leighton continued, «is in the transitions into Dimension X and back to Home Dimension. You see, we're not sure exactly how much molecular cohesion a body retains while transitioning between Dimensions. You've done your best to describe your sensations, Blade, but I'm afraid it hasn't been good enough.»

J relaxed. If Leighton was willing to admit any sort of limits on their knowledge of the experiment, he was likely to be reasonable. Then the scientist's next words grabbed his attention.

«If your molecules and Cheeky's lose their cohesion on the way, they might intermingle. They might also not-ah-sort themselves out before you reached the other side. Do you remember the film The Fly?»

Blade obviously did. So did J. He imagined a monstrous creature, half Blade and half Cheeky, stumbling out of the booth or lost in the wilderness of some unknown Dimension. Only a lifetime of selfcontrol kept Blade's nausea from showing on his face.