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

J nodded, remembering. "That's right. We were training a fellow named Dexter as a replacement
for Blade, but the first time he went through Leighton's bloody machine, he came back screaming
'The worm has a thousand heads! The worm has a thousand heads!' The man was definitively
bonkers, and remains so to this day. We've got him tucked away in a sanitarium in Scotland."

"I'd like to examine your Mr. Dexter, after I've studied his file." The fat man leaned back
reflectively. "Dexter and Blade may follow a common pattern."

J said sharply, "Are you telling me that Blade is going to spend the rest of his life tucked away in
some sanitarium?"

"Not necessarily. I have a better chance than the team that worked on Dexter. I have more data.
The state of the art in my field has progressed somewhat. No cause for undue pessimism, but on
the other hand we shouldn't expect any overnight casting out of unclean spirits. By the by, who
was on the team that handled Dexter?"
"Team?" J laughed mirthlessly. "There was no team. In those days the only psychiatrist in
England with a security clearance high enough to work with us was a Dr. Saxton Colby. Colby
handled the whole matter personally, without consultation with anyone."

Ferguson shook his head, frowning. "Bad show. No help for it now, though. Could I speak to Dr.
Colby?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? Why on earth not?"

J shifted uneasily. "We don't know where Colby is. We put him in charge of a testing program for
candidates for training for the project, potential replacements for Blade. To make a long
unpleasant story short, Colby did not develop any viable replacements, but he did develop a few-
ah, personal vices-which required his being taken off the project. Nothing nasty, so far as I can
recall, but we sent him back to private practice, carefully wrapped in the Official Secrets Act. As
to his present whereabouts I haven't the foggiest notion."

Ferguson burst out laughing, much to J's annoyance. "Do you mean to tell me that after all your
paranoid security screening, you ended up with a lunatic for your one and only expert on sanity?
Oh that's delightful!"

J said coldly, "Our screening can examine a man's past, but not his future. We don't use crystal
balls, you know."

"You should! You should!" The little psychiatrist sobered with effort. "And, though for some
reason I've never been able to fathom, your MI6A is called an 'intelligence service,' you've
unleashed this mad scientist, upon an unsuspecting world and now you don't even know where he
is. Really, old boy, the mind boggles!"

"If you want to talk to Colby, we'll find him, Doctor Ferguson!"

"Do that! It could be there is a reason why a man sane enough to pass all your tests should
suddenly develop these odd vices immediately after treating this Dexter fellow. We have an