He hoped that sooner rather than later Lord Leighton and J would come up with someone equally qualified. He was tough, he was smart, so far he had been lucky, and by temperament he was an adventurer in a century where adventurers too often found themselves the odd man out. But he could push his luck only so far. If it ran out before Lord Leighton and J found anybody else, Project Dimension X would be left high and dry. The whole purpose of the Project was to explore and perhaps someday exploit Dimension X for knowledge and raw materials that England could use. Without somebody able to travel into Dimension X, this would become impossible.

So Lord Leighton was looking for somebody new. J, head of MI6 and Blade's guide and mentor for twenty years, was looking for somebody new. And the prime minister, who had backed Project Dimension X and all its host of subprojects to the tune of many millions of pounds, was looking for somebody new. But so far Blade was in no danger of joining the ranks of the unemployed.

He went over to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. Four fingers of Scotch, a dash of soda, and he had a good stiff nightcap. He raised the glass in a silent toast to his unknown successor, whoever he might be, and drained it. Then he went to bed.

He was up early the next morning, and had a large breakfast. He had no idea how long he would be in Dimension X before he could find food. The last time he had gone across, Lord Leighton had sent along a comprehensive survival kit with several days' survival rations. But Blade had arrived with nothing and as naked as he had all the previous times. For safety's sake he preferred to assume the same thing would happen this time. Blade's experience as a field agent and then as an explorer of Dimension X had taught him the wisdom of assuming the worst.