«Good evening, Richard,» said the voice on the line. It was a well-educated, quiet, and supremely calm voice. The man called J was getting very old, but nobody had ever guessed it from talking to him over the telephone.

«Good evening, sir,» said Blade. «I'm back from the hills.»

«Very good. How soon can you reach London?»

«Is His Lordship breathing down your neck again?»

«Not precisely. He hasn't got another Portal Case in mind. But he would be happier with you on call.»

Over anything except a secure line, Blade and J always used language that suggested they were discussing an ordinary business matter to refer to the Project. A «Portal Case» was their name for one of Lord Leighton's brainstorms, which came at unpredictable intervals and usually left in their wake confusion, extra expense, and gray hairs on both Blade and J.

«I can easily be on call two days after reaching London,» said Blade. «I trust His Lordship can wait that long?»

«Certainly,» said J. «I'm very glad to hear you're coming back.» His voice was no longer quite so calm.

«It will be good to be back, sir,» said Blade. «Good night.» His own voice wasn't quite calm either.

J listened to the line go dead, gently put down the receiver, and stood up. Then he stretched both arms as far as they would go, first to either side and then over his head. A great deal of tension flowed out of him with those movements. He was tall, so that his fingers brushed the ceiling overhead, and still limber in spite of his years. Not as limber as he'd been when he stalked Germans behind the Hindenberg Line in the winter of 1917-18, of course. But one couldn't expect that unless one found the Fountain of Youth, and so far even Richard Blade hadn't found that in Dimension X.