"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 28 - Wizard of Rentoro" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

more than his age.
Blade stood in silent sympathy. Once again he couldn't help feeling that perhaps he was the lucky
man in the Project. In another hour he would be striking out across some unknown land far off in
Dimension X. J would still be here inBritain , sweating over irritated Prime Ministers, the internal politics
of American intelligence agencies, and a dozen other administrative problems.
Any of them would have quickly driven Blade mad. He was not an administrator. A desk could never
be his home. He was a natural adventurer, born into the wrong century. Yet somehow he'd found the one
job which he could do better than any other human being. That was better luck than Blade would have
believed any man could enjoy—certainly better luck than J's or Lord Leighton's.
The door in front of the two men hissed open, and Lord Leighton's gnome-like face peered out at
them. His glasses were shoved up on his wrinkled forehead, and for a moment he didn't seem to
recognize them. Then he pulled his glasses down into position and gave his usual brief smile of welcome.
In silence J and Blade followed the scientist into the room that was Leighton's private preserve. All
around them the gray crackle-finished consoles of the master computer towered toward the bare rock of
the ceiling. In the exact center of the room a grimly functional metal chair squatted inside a transparent
glass booth. That chair was the beginning and the end for Blade's trips into Dimension X.
Blade left the other two men. J sat down on the folding spectator seat, while Leighton took his
position by the main control panel. Blade went to the changing room carved into the rock wall, pulled the
door shut behind him, and began stripping of his clothes.
When he was naked, he picked up the pot of dark grease from one corner and began smearing it
over every square inch of his skin. It had the consistency of suet pudding mixed with well-rotted rabbit
droppings, and smelled nearly as unpleasant. Blade would have been more than willing to leave it off, if it
hadn't been for the danger of electrical burns. A frightening amount of current passed through his body as
he was hurled into Dimension X. He would not run even the slightest risk of winding up fried like a
chicken.
Blade finished smearing himself, knotted a loincloth about his waist, and stepped out of the changing
room. Leighton was standing by the chair now, a bundle of wires and electrodes gripped in one
surprisingly large and strong hand. The scientist must be more eager than usual to see me off, thought
Blade. Well, he can hardly be more eager than I am. At this point the last of Blade's tension always faded
away, leaving behind only a great impatience to be off on his next adventure.
Blade sat down in the chair, feeling the chill rubber of the back and seat against his bare skin. He
leaned back and started breathing quickly and deeply, filling his whole system with oxygen. The doctors
of the Project had the notion that if he hyperventilated before the computer gripped him, it might help
prevent the splitting headache he usually felt after arriving in Dimension X. The headache always went
away within a few minutes, but during those few minutes it was often so painful that Blade could hardly
move. It would be an advantage to be ready for action the moment he awoke in Dimension X. Only a
small advantage, to be sure—but Blade's training and experience had taught him how much even small
advantages could mean to survival.
Lord Leighton practically ran in circles around Blade, attaching the cobra-headed metal electrodes to
every part of Blade's body. From each electrode a colored wire led off into the bowels of the computer.
By the time Leighton finished, Blade sprouted wires from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. He
looked like the victim of a mad scientist in a low-grade horror film.
Well, Lord Leighton certainly looked enough like a mad scientist to be cast for the part. There were
probably some people who thought he actually was mad. Certainly he could be eccentric, stubborn,
outrageous, and totally impossible to get along with. Blade wondered how many of the white hairs on J's
head had been added by having to deal with the scientist. Probably quite a few. But it was worth it. Lord
Leighton might hold a large part of the future of the human race in his mind and hand.
Blade saw the room around him appearing with unnatural clarity and felt his head beginning to swim.
He knew that he'd done enough deep breathing, stopped, and let himself relax. As he did, Leighton
stepped to the main control panel and pulled the red master switch down to the bottom of its slot.