It always seemed that Leighton would go on attaching electrodes until there was no more of Blade's skin to take them. It was always something of a surprise to Blade when Leighton stopped. But it always happened, sooner or later, and Leighton always stepped back to admire his work for a moment.

By this time J had parked himself on the small chair in the corner reserved for him. A mask of self-control had descended on his lined face as he watched Blade get ready to go into danger again. Blade knew that J loved him like a son, but both of them were caught in a net of duties that they could not give up-not without harm to England, and not until there was someone else to do each of their jobs.

Blade did not have to wait much longer. The big clock on the master control panel worked itself around to zero. The sequence-indicator lights all lighted up like a Christmas tree. The main sequence was in the computer's banks, ready to respond to the impulse from the master switch.

Lord Leighton's clawed hand hovered over the master switch, and his surprisingly bright, dark eyes looked questioningly at Blade.

Blade nodded.

«Good luck, Richard,» said J.

Blade nodded again. In this moment his throat was almost always too dry to talk. And his eyes were on Leighton's hand, now descending to pull down the switch. It slid down its polished slot and clicked into place.

As it did, the red lights on the panel suddenly began to swell and rapidly grow brighter, burning into Blade's eyes like miniature suns. In seconds the whole chamber was flooded with red light, pulsing and savage. Blade looked down at himself, saw the red light reflected in shimmering patterns from the glossy black grease on his skin. Or was it his skin that had turned glossy black? He stretched out an arm to look at it. It rose effortlessly. He stood up. Dimly, half lost in the red glare, he saw Lord Leighton and J shrinking away from him, transformed into dwarfed, apelike figures.