Return to Kaldak.

by Jeffrey Lord.

Chapter 1.

The dark green Rover pulled into a reserved s.p.a.ce in the parking lot. The man who got out wore a tweed sport jacket, corduroy trousers, and nondescript walking shoes. The clothing didn't disguise his powerful frame or his athlete's grace of movement as he walked toward one of the brick buildings around the parking lot.

He was hatless, so the breeze ruffled thick black hair cut unfashionably short. Women were apt to describe his face as ruggedly handsome. This did no justice to the penetrating quality of his large gray eyes. They flicked their gaze continuously from point to point, never leaving anything around him un.o.bserved for more than a few seconds.

Then the man reached the door of the building and vanished from the sight of the two men watching from the window above. The taller one turned to the other and said, "As much as I hate to admit it, Richard looks in splendid form."

"You don't really hate to admit that he's fit for another trip, do you, J?" said the second man.

"Not really, Leighton. But if I thought he weren't, I'd insist on a delay no matter what hopes you had for your new booth!"

Leighton ran his long arthritic fingers through what remained of his white hair. Then he smiled thinly. "I hardly need to be reminded of that, J."

"True." Lord Leighton was actually being exceptionally moderate. His scientific genius was world famous. So was his temper. When someone seemed to be in the way of one of his experiments, he behaved like a she-bear defending her cubs. Although he was past eighty, he showed no signs of mellowing.

But then, J reflected, that was hardly to be expected. The man was a b.l.o.o.d.y genius, and had a right to be proud of it, particularly when he was still producing fine work. Also, if you're born with a hunchback and half-crippled by polio as a child, you learn to fight your own battles early. No one else will fight them for you. Not for the first time, J thanked whatever or whoever was responsible that he himself still enjoyed good health at an age when he could have been drawing his civil service pension.

The main reason J wasn't retired was the man who'd just entered the building. His name was Richard Blade. J had picked him as a promising candidate for the secret intelligence agency MI6A when Blade was fresh out of Oxford. He'd more than fulfilled that promise.

Then Lord Leighton conceived the experiment of linking an advanced computer with a human brain Blade's, to be precise. He hoped to create a superior combination of human and electronic intelligence, by having the computer generate a field matching Blade's brain waves. The actual result was Blade's being hurled off into a parallel world. Leighton christened it Dimension X after Blade got back.

Giving the mystery world a name didn't make it any the less mysterious. It didn't help, either, that Blade turned out to be the only man in the free world who could make the journey. Others returned insane or not at all. Millions of pounds and dozens of Lord Leighton's experiments later, this was still true. Meanwhile, J had a busy time defending Project Dimension X from enemy agents, accidents, and sheer human stupidity. He had almost as busy a time defending Richard Blade from Leighton's wilder experiments.

To J, Blade was more than a friend or a trusted subordinate. He was the son the aging bachelor spymaster would never have. To Leighton, Blade was hardly more than an experimental guinea pig.

Or at least he had been once. That was before Leighton's experiment with the new KALI computer let an immaterial but deadly monster from another Dimension loose on the world. Blade eventually defeated the Ngaa, and Leighton seemed to have learned his lesson. At least he hadn't sprung either of his latest ideas on J and Blade at the last minute, the way he used to.

Also, the Project was actually beginning to creep toward solutions to some of its long-standing problems. Blade could now take some equipment with him, even though it had to be expensively fabricated from a special alloy he'd discovered in a Dimension called Englor. The transitions themselves no longer left him weakened or suffering from headaches. From the last trip he'd even brought back a live, functional animal- "Yeep!" A small brightly colored shape darted out from behind Lord Leighton's desk. It was Cheeky, the "Feathered One" from the Dimension of the Crimson River. He was about the size and shape of a monkey, but covered from head to foot with bright blue and green feathers instead of fur.

He was also telepathic.

J had always been open-minded about the possibility of telepathy. He'd seen too many odd things in too many lands only a little less strange than Dimension X. Leighton had always been a militant skeptic.

What Cheeky did when he was around Blade had converted J to a believer. Even Leighton was saying, "I'd like to run some experiments under carefully controlled conditions. That's been the biggest stumbling block in dealing with ESP poorly designed experiments run by believers or outright nut cases!"

J put his foot down, however, on running the experiments right after Blade's return from the Dimension of the Crimson River. Blade was obviously suffering from something like combat fatigue. Although he was the sanest and toughest man J had ever known, with enough courage and survival skills for any six normal people, Blade still reached the limits of endurance at times.

Was the sheer loneliness of Blade's profession also catching up with him? J had to wonder. Blade's fiance, Zoe Cornwall, had broken off her engagement because the Official Secrets Act didn't let him explain his trips to Dimension X. When they were on the verge of getting back together, she was kidnapped and horribly killed by the Ngaa. By all accounts Blade had left a good dozen children in the various lands of Dimension X, but in England he had neither wife nor child nor steady girlfriend nor much of a home life to help him forget the grim battles he had to fight alone in Dimension X.

That was why J was so glad when Blade went out and bought himself a country house in Hampshire. He was even happier to hear that Lord Leighton contributed part of the money. Now Richard was busily restoring the place. While he was doing this, he'd be too busy between trips to feel lonely. When the house was finished, he would have a place he could call his own to come back to.

If he lived long enough, he would even be able to retire there and-who could say?-marry and raise a family.

Cheeky yeeeeped again, breaking J's train of thought, and started racing around the room. Leighton stood protectively in front of his desk, arms spread wide to keep the feather-monkey from jumping up on it and scattering valuable papers to the four winds. J wondered if it was his own thoughts about Richard Blade which had excited the little animal. Then he heard familiar footsteps on the stairs outside the office.

So did Cheeky. He ran to the door, leaped up, and caught the doork.n.o.b with both paws. He swung there, turning the k.n.o.b while he kicked at the door frame with both feet. The door swung open and Richard Blade walked in.

Seen close up, he seemed to have gone gray-haired all at once. Then J took a still closer look and recognized plaster dust. He also saw dark rings of grit under Blade's usually well-manicured fingernails.

"Just come from the house, Richard?"

"Drove up this morning," said Blade with a grin. "The workers knocked off at their usual time, leaving the job half-a.r.s.ed. So I finished it off myself. Up until midnight doing it, too, and then of course there wasn't any hot water!"

Leighton made a tut-tutting noise of mock indignation. "The union will get you for that, Richard."

"What they don't know won't hurt them," said Blade cheerfully. "Besides, the contractor's foreman is the son of my father's old groom. He's not going to sneak."

"Good," said J. "How is the house coming, by the way?" He'd seen it once. It was an eighteenth-century squire's establishment, appallingly run-down when Blade acquired it.

"Well, we can keep partridges and stray pigs out of the ground-floor rooms now. There are four rooms on the upper floor where you don't need an umbrella when it rains. And you can light at least one fireplace without fumigating the whole house."

At this point Cheeky yeeeped indignantly at being ignored and took a flying leap onto Blade's shoulder. Blade scratched his feathery crest absentmindedly, without taking his eyes off Lord Leighton and J. "Well, from the look on His Lordship's face I should say he's pickled another bright idea for us," he said. "Do I go through hanging from a trapeze this time?"

J swallowed his laughter. Leighton merely shook his head. "No. It's simply a couple of logical extrapolations from our experience last time."

The last trip into Dimension X, Leighton used a new technique. Whereas in the past Blade had been greased up and wired all over with electrodes, for the last trip he had stood in the middle of a booth of wire mesh, charged with an electrical field linked to the computer. Since he always came back without being physically linked to the computer, why couldn't he go the same way?

It worked-once. Leighton had a scientist's confidence that what had worked once would work again, under the same conditions. J was less optimistic, but he was willing to go along with the scientist, if Richard agreed.

Leighton explained. "With the new booth, there is a lot more room within the area the electrical field covers. Room for more than a more-or-less naked Blade. We don't have a second person trained and ready to go, but we do have Cheeky."

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 a.s.sociation 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.

"If the new booth hadn't worked out so smoothly the first time, I'd have my doubts," said Blade slowly. "As it is, I'm willing to try it. What about you, Cheeky?" He spoke as if he was speaking to an intelligent, rational being. J found himself looking around for the person being addressed.

"Yik-yik-yeeeek!" went the feather-monkey. Then he hopped up on top of Blade's head and clung with all his fingers and toes buried in Blade's hair. Blade stood with a long-suffering expression until Cheeky climbed back down onto his shoulder. Then he nodded.

"He's willing to try it."

"Splendid!" said Leighton, with genuine relief and enthusiasm in his voice. "The new booth is a real breakthrough. The faster we can exploit it, the faster we can make the Project really successful. Or at least less vulnerable to accidents," he added. "I'll really sleep a trifle better when the Project can survive Richard's falling off a ladder while fixing the roof on that confounded Hampshire mausoleum of his!"

"I couldn't agree more," said Blade. "In fact, do we need to limit my equipment anymore? The fabric and rubber material I took through last time survived as well as the Englor Alloy."

"More equipment, as well as Cheeky?" said J dubiously. "That's two experiments on one trip."

"True," said Blade. "But some sort of backpacking outfit shouldn't make that much difference. I was also thinking of Cheeky. I can forage for my meals or tighten my belt better than he can. I've got to take some food for him, at least." The feather-monkey yeeeped in apparent approval.

"I must say I was thinking along similar lines my self," said Leighton. "I would suggest some care, though. We've got a second knife made of EA Two, so you'll have a spare. We can also make up one for Cheeky in a few days. Other than that, I'd suggest not taking anything metal. Above all, no guns. I'd be a trifle uneasy about subjecting anything explosive to the new field this time."

"I wasn't thinking of a gun," said Blade. "It's the sort of thing I might find a bit hard to explain if I landed in a pretechnological society. I've been suspected of black magic often enough as it is. What about one of those knockdown crossbows we used to have in MI6A? You remember them, sir. Fit in an attache case, but a two-hundred-pound pull and no metal in them."

J nodded. "I think I still have enough influence to rout one of them out of the Weapons people."

"Then it's settled, is it?" said Leighton.

"As far as I'm concerned, it is," said Blade. "What about you, sir?"

J still had reservations. This was going to be the biggest leap into the dark since the original KALI computer. However, they were already far beyond the limits of what anyone outside the Project considered science. What did they have to lose?

"Might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb," said J. "See you next week, Richard." They shook hands, and J also reached up and patted Cheeky's head. Blade had tried to teach the feather-monkey to shake hands, but he flatly refused.

Outside, J was so preoccupied as he walked to his car that he was nearly run down by a delivery truck pulling into Complex Two. Several men came out and started unloading crates and film canisters. J watched them idly for a moment. It seemed that Complex Two was growing every time he came.

Well, it certainly didn't hurt the Project to have room to expand. There was already more than enough equipment and people to fill two of the three buildings. If the Project was on the edge of a real breakthrough . . .

J firmly squelched his optimism and climbed into his car. No matter how close they were to a breakthrough, everything still depended on Richard Blade.

Chapter 2.

During the next few days, everyone's nerves were stretched tight over the risks they were taking. Blade tried at first to a.s.semble his equipment from many different countries, so that no one would be able to tell where he himself came from. He spent several days trying to find South African hiking boots and Czech canteens before realizing that he was wasting his time. The Russians had penetrated Project Dimension X twice, but both times their agents had died before revealing its secret. It was highly unlikely that he would meet anyone in Dimension X who knew or cared where his gear came from.

He still carefully tore off all the labels and tags. If he landed in an advanced society, someone might notice the strange language and the unknown names and get curious. Such curiosity could be as dangerous to the Dimension X secret as Russian spies, even if it didn't have immediate consequences in Home Dimension.

Blade bought new clothing and equipment, but decided to keep his old hiking boots, which were well broken-in and comfortable. He was prepared to die for England but not get unnecessary blisters for it.

Cheeky was a strict vegetarian, but he would eat nearly anything which wasn't meat. Blade had seen him munch brussel sprouts, daffodil bulbs, and sc.r.a.ps of leather. The same fruits, nuts, whole-grain cereal bars, and chocolate Blade was going to eat would also do for Cheeky.

Lord Leighton was not only nervous but found time on his hands. He kept making telephone calls to both J and Blade, fussing over trifles. The last straw came when he rang up Blade to ask which sedatives should be given to Cheeky when he was sent through the transition.

"No," said Blade, "I won't suggest what sedatives to use! I will not cooperate with this whole idiotic proposal! If you go on with it, you'll never find Cheeky, and you may have some trouble finding me!"

"Richard, you're-"

"I'm not what you're going to say I am, that's for b.l.o.o.d.y well certain. I'm tired of Cheeky's being treated as an experimental animal, that's what I am!"

"Besides," he added. "You're forgetting the telepathic link between me and Cheeky. Sedation might break it. How can we be sure he'll go with me without the telepathy? Can we even be sure of finding a safe sedative without a pile of experiments? Do you want to delay the next trip?"

"If you'd given us a free hand with Cheeky when you came back from the Crimson River, we could have made the experiments by now," said Leighton.

"Well, I didn't. With the att.i.tude you're showing now, I think I was b.l.o.o.d.y well right!"

After a long silence Leighton cleared his throat. "Richard, I'm sorry I raised the matter. I said I wouldn't put pressure on you. I meant it. I'm afraid I'm not thinking quite as clearly as I ought to. The strain, you know."

That was more of an apology than Leighton ever gave anybody, and Blade decided to accept it, such as it was. "I understand," he said. "Well, let's get me and Cheeky fired off into Dimension X, and you and J can both relax."

Blade still didn't breathe easy until two days later, when he and Cheeky showed up in Complex One ready for the trip into Dimension X. Complex One lay two hundred feet below the Tower of London, with a concealed entrance guarded by dark-suited Special Branch men. Once it held the whole Project, and it still held the master computer, the new booth, and everything else which might give away the secret of Dimension X.

That wasn't enough to fill the whole Complex. An entire corridor of offices and laboratories once alive with lights and voices and hard work was now dark and empty, the equipment having gone to the new Complex Two or else shrouded in dust covers. Blade had the feeling ghosts would be lurking in those empty rooms before long.

As usual, Blade stepped into the changing booth to get ready. Once, had had to strip to a loincloth and smear himself with foul-smelling black grease to prevent electrical burns from the ma.s.s of electrodes which linked him to the computer. Now he pulled on net underwear, heavy socks, woolen trousers and shirt, and a light windbreaker. He slipped one knife into a wrist sheath and hung the other along with a canteen on his belt. A light rucksack held a poncho, a spare canteen, extra socks and underwear, soap and toothbrush, several days' rations for himself and Cheeky, water purification tablets, snares, fishing line, and the disa.s.sembled crossbow.

Meanwhile, Cheeky was pulling on a modified dog sweater and belting on his own miniature knife. He wasn't quite intelligent enough to reason out for himself how to use unknown tools. He only had to be shown a couple of times, though.

With Cheeky perched on his shoulder, Blade stood as the wire-mesh booth was lowered over him. Last trip it had been about the same size and shape as the gla.s.s booth which held the rubber-padded chair of the original computer, before the KALI capsule. For this trip it was six inches larger all around, to provide just enough room for Cheeky. Looking out through the mesh, Blade saw Leighton standing by the manual control panel.

That was all right with Blade. For the first time he wouldn't reach Dimension X alone. For the first time he was also taking someone else into its unknown dangers. He was glad to see that Leighton wasn't adding to those dangers unnecessarily by using the untested new automatic sequencer.

"All right, Richard?" said Leighton.

Blade gave a thumbs-up gesture and Cheeky imitated him. Leighton's hand pulled the red master switch in one swift motion to the bottom of the slot.

From where J sat on a folding stool, the booth suddenly seemed filled with green light, with Blade and Cheeky clearly visible inside it. Then the light turned silvery, Blade and Cheeky blurred, and both they and the light vanished.

Leighton stood with his hand on the switch until the lights on the consoles seemed to satisfy him. To J, they made less sense than so many Egyptian hieroglyphics. Finally the scientist turned to J.

"Do you need a drink as badly as I do?"

"Probably more so."

"I sincerely doubt if that would be possible," said Leighton. He reached under the control panel and came out with a silver flask and a thermos jug.

"Weak or strong?"

Blade only saw the green light. Then the wire mesh and the room beyond it wavered. He seemed to be looking at them through the hot air rising from a fire. He felt a stab of some strong emotion in his mind from Cheeky, not quite fear but certainly discontent with the situation.