"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 30 - Dimension Of Horror" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

this is a different kind of problem, a different order of magnitude, you might say."

"You mean he can't remember his name?"

"His name? Why, my dear boy, he can't remember the English language! He can't remember not
to wet the bed!"

"But you have drugs. You have Leighton's bloody memory machines."

Ferguson sipped and grimaced. "Yes. Quite. We tried them of course. I even had a go at shock
therapy."

"Shock therapy? You used shock therapy on Blade?"

"Yes. I gave him a bit of a buzz. Thought it might help, but it didn't." He shrugged fatalistically.
"But there must be something . . . " "I'm open to suggestions. My own little bag of tricks is
empty. True amnesia is rare, you know, except on the telly and in films. There actually is no
treatment of choice for it. Thanks to all the experiments you and Leighton have been doing on
this poor chap, this hospital probably knows more about such things than anyone else, but it
seems that, as much as we know, it is not enough."
"Damn you, Ferguson!"

"Damn me? You're projecting, old man, as we say in therapy. If you must damn someone, damn
yourself. This is all your doing, you know."

"What are you saying? Blade is my friend. If there's a living soul I care about, it's him."

"Really? You've a funny way of showing affection, if you'll pardon my saying so. Downright
kinky, to use a layman's expression. But that's how it goes in Her Majesty's Service, doesn't it?
England is everything, the individual nothing. If you're angry though, I don't blame you. A
useless emotion, anger, but it hits us all now and then. I've a lovely little pill here." He reached
for the breast pocket of his flowery shirt. "It'll grow rose-colored glasses on the inside of your
eyes."

J edged away. "No, thanks. I'll be all right."

The psychiatrist took out a plastic bottle filled with white oval capsules. "You know, J, I use
these little rascals myself. Perfectly safe, one at a time. And someday, if jolly old England gets a
bit much for me, I can swallow a dozen at a gulp and kiss the whole bloody mess goodbye." His
tone had been growing steadily more bitter, but now his mood changed abruptly and he smiled
again, stuffing the bottle back in his shirt pocket. "But if I tell you my troubles, you'll probably
send me a bill for listening. I would, if I were in your place. It's your friend Richard Blade we
should be talking about"

"I'm glad you finally realized that," J said acidly.

"I'm not giving up on the poor chap. I'm sure we'll think of something if we sit around and scratch
our heads a while. Hmm. Seems to me I recall hearing about a similar case. Wasn't there another
one of your men who came back from the X dimensions with much the same symptoms before I
started working here?"