The last words of the christening ceremony, echoed away through the high vaulted nave of the church. As the echoes died away, Richard Blade heard the bells in the tower high above begin to ring.

Bim-bong-bunnnng. Bim-bong-bunnnng.

Reginald Smythe-Evans turned to Blade. His thin face split in a broad, toothy, but unmistakably sincere grin. «Well, Richard. Very glad you could be young Edward's second godfather. Zoe wanted it badly, but we couldn't be sure you'd be around for the christening. Dashedly awkward if one of the godfathers didn't show up, eh? And we know you're always flitting off on dangerous business of some sort. But you made it.» He thrust out a pale, long-fingered hand, to grip Blade's with surprising strength.

Blade found himself able to smile back with almost as much sincerity as Reginald. He hadn't felt much like smiling when Zoe's letter first arrived, asking him to be second godfather to Edward Thomas Richard Smythe-Evans. A long time ago Richard Blade had loved Zoe. She had loved him, too. But one evening she had said good-bye, and a few months later she married Reginald. That had hurt. It stopped hurting for a while, but Zoe's letter picked away at the old scar.

Yet there was nothing Blade could have done about it. It was his «always flitting off on dangerous business of some sort» that had done in his relationship with Zoe. But he couldn't give that up. It was a matter of duty-duty to England.

Richard Blade's business was to travel into other dimensions-the infinity of other dimensions that exist parallel to the one where he had been born and lived most of his life. It was an infinity called Dimension X, to conceal how little even wise men really knew about it.

It had been discovered the day Richard Blade's mind was linked to Lord Leighton's latest computer. The scientist had wanted to combine Blade's mind and the computer into a superintelligence.

Instead Lord Leighton had altered Blade's mind until he sensed and lived entirely in one of those parallel dimensions-a barbaric land called Alb. Blade was a superb mental and physical specimen, so he had survived in Alb long enough for Lord Leighton to figure out what had happened and bring him back to England. It had also helped that Blade was a top agent for the secret intelligence agency MI6. That made him very much a professional survivor type.

It didn't require much thinking for people to realize how valuable the ability to travel among dimensions might be for England. It didn't require much argument to persuade the Prime Minister to underwrite Project Dimension X from the secret funds.

But it did require Richard Blade to keep his sudden and mysterious comings and goings secret from the woman he loved. The Official Secrets Act dropped down between him and Zoe like an armored wall.

Eventually she had decided she wanted a husband who would stay close at hand and said good-bye. Blade went off to a land called Tharn, and a few months later Zoe married Reginald Smythe-Evans, the only son and heir of some large and wealthy figure in the city's financial circles.

Blade had seen her get married. In fact, he had seen the wedding nearly disrupted by an actor pretending to be him making a drunken ass of himself. That had been part of a trick to throw the Russians off the scent of Project Dimension X. Poor Zoe couldn't know that, of course.

But apparently she had forgiven the wedding and remembered other things. Thus the request that he stand as godfather to her son.

There was Zoe now, coming up the church aisle with the nurse behind her, carrying young Edward. She walked up to her husband and took one tweed-covered arm, but her eyes were on Blade and her smile was for him. The eyes were as bright as ever, and the smile as warm. She hadn't changed or aged much, in spite of two children and marriage to Reginald. Blade didn't imagine that Reginald was complaining, either. Over the years they would no doubt make a marriage as good as most and better than a good many.

But Blade couldn't look at the red-faced, whimpering bundle the nurse was handing to Zoe without remembering how it had been between him and that baby's mother. If things had been otherwise, that baby might be his son as well-his and Zoe's.

The christening party drifted out into the sunlight on the church lawn and broke up. Blade exchanged a few polite words with the parish priest, a few more with Reginald, and finally a long last exchange with Zoe. Then he turned his back on the party, buttoned up his Burberry against the chill breeze, and climbed into his MG.

It took him three tries to start the car, and once again he considered trading it in on something newer. He could afford a much better car now, if he wanted one. From his last trip into Dimension X, he had returned with a diamond worth so much that even Lord Leighton had whistled at the appraiser's figure. Twenty thousand pounds of that sum sat in a special tax-free account for him. If he wanted to, he could afford a Lotus or even a Rolls-Royce!

But luxury cars drew attention. That wasn't a good idea for a man in any kind of secret work. Blade had learned that many times over during his years as a secret agent. Secret agents who didn't learn that didn't live very long.

Besides, Blade knew he drew enough attention as it was.

He stood six feet one in his socks, weighed two hundred and ten pounds, and his heavy-boned frame was layered with masses of perfectly conditioned muscle. He was an expert with a dozen kinds of deadly weapons, as well as holding a black belt in karate. About him hung the mysterious air always attached to a strong, attractive man who does something unknown but obviously dangerous and refuses absolutely to talk about it. It drew many women to him, but since Zoe Blade had discouraged any who showed interest in more than a casual affair.

Blade threw in the clutch and the MG went jolting down the church driveway. He shook his head in weary amusement. He almost filled the classic picture of «the man who has everything.» He even had the best of all imaginable jobs, for Blade preferred to live on the frontiers of danger. Dimension X gave him all the opportunities for that any man could ask for.

But he had never found a woman who could or would live out there on the frontiers with him, or at least understand what drove him out there. So he did not have everything, and sometimes it hurt.

The elevator door slid silently open, and Richard Blade stepped out into the corridor beyond it. He was two hundred feet below the Tower of London, in the overgrowing complex that housed most of Project Dimension X. At the end of that corridor stood Lord Leighton's computer. In less than half an hour that computer would be hammering its complex pulses into Blade's brain, twisting his perceptions so that for him reality itself would also be twisted.

When it untwisted itself again, he would be seeing Dimension X.

Blade strode down the apparently empty corridor, listening to the echo of his footsteps from the tile floors and the whir of machinery behind metal doors. There was no sound from the all-seeing, unsleeping electronic sentinels that kept watch on every inch of the corridor.

He found that he felt his usual mixture of tension and anticipation as the time of his next journey came closer. It was impossible for even a man as used to danger as Blade to ignore the fact that each trip was a leap into the unknown. So far there was no way of controlling or even predicting where he would land. The one thing that was certain was that Richard Blade was the only living man who could return from Dimension X both alive and sane.