"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 20 - Guardians of the Coral Throne" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

scientist lived up to his reputation of having a computer where other people had a heart. At other times it
was obvious that he really cared about Blade as more than a prize guinea pig for his grandest experiment.

"It's very good to hear you're feeling fit," J repeated. "I would feel rather bad of you had taken a tumble
carrying out one of my ideas."

"No need to worry on that score, sir," replied Blade. "It's only good sense to give me a refresher course
in modern commando and field-survival techniques. After all, there's no guarantee I won't land in a
technologically advanced Dimension again. I've done it several times already. If I do it again, I may find
myself part of a modern army rather than leading a sword-swinging horde. I might as well be able to
make myself valuable anywhere."

"True enough," said J. "But I have the feeling you find being the leader of the sword-swingers more, eh,
fun?"

Blade nodded. "I couldn't agree with you more, sir." It was sometimes uncanny how well the old man
understood him. But then part of J's skill at his work was sizing up people, and he had been watching
Blade for a fair number of years.

Now they were at the door to the main computer rooms. The last of the electronic sentinels scanning the
corridors of the complex and guarding its secrets gave them its invisible looking-over. A computer
registered their characteristics and matched them with data on people authorized to enter the complex. It
was a fairly sophisticated computer by most standards. But it was a helpless idiot compared to the
monster that filled the innermost chamber, Lord Leighton's private sanctuary.

The scientist himself was waiting to meet them as they entered the sanctuary. All around him the chamber
was gray-gray rock above, gray tile on the floor, the gray crackled finish of the towering consoles of the
huge computer. With his white hair, pale skin, and hunched body inside its dirty white lab coat, Leighton
looked like some weird creature accustomed to lurk in deep, lightless caves. But his eyes were bright and
his smile was surprisingly warm and open.

"Welcome, gentlemen, welcome. No rush this time-it's going to be slow and careful. If I thought we
could repeat the results of the last trip by rushing, I'd be more than happy to do so. But our best
psychiatrists think whatever caused Richard to return to Tharn was in his own mind. They'd rather like
some more time to try digging it out of him, sooner or later."

J raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you didn't think of postponing this trip while they did it?"

Lord Leighton looked as shocked as if he had just been accused of sacrificing virgins by the light of a full
moon. "And hold up the entire Project for someone's wild-goose chase? I hardly think that would be
reasonable."

J looked at Blade and Blade looked back at him. They were both thinking the same thing. Lord Leighton
was a fine one to talk, considering how often he had held up the Project, added thousands of pounds to
its budget, or actually endangered Blade's life and limb on his own wildgoose chases! But there was no
point in mentioning this now. Blade headed for the dressing booth carved into the rock wall, while J went
over and unfolded the spectator seat that Lord Leighton had installed for his benefit.

Inside the booth Blade went through the usual routine of stripping and smearing himself with smelly
grease as protection against electrical burns from the computer. He had done this so often by now that he