Blade walked to the couch and thrust out his hand. 'I think you may be right. I need you as much as you need me. You know the ropes around here. I don't. We have to trust each other for the time being. And I have a proposition that I think might interest you.'
They shook hands. Their eyes met, steady and penetrating, and Blade had the sensation of peering into his own soul. The feeling was uncanny, nearly frightening, and Blade sensed that his double felt it also.
The Russian slapped his knee. 'There! That's done, then, and a good thing. And now, since I do know the ropes a bit better, I'll get us something to celebrate on.'
He went to a thick leather door studded with brass. He opened it and clapped his hands three times. A moment later a young girl came into the room carrying a large jug on a tray. There were two mugs. The Russian signed for the girl to place the tray on the floor before the couch. As she turned to leave he placed a hand on her bare arm. She wore only a pair of filmy pantaloons.
The Russian winked at Blade. 'Now, my friend, observe closely. There are many things to be said for life among the Moghs - and this is one of them.'
As Blade watched from the couch the Russian kissed the girl on the lips. She stood unmoving, her arms limp at her side. When the man had finished kissing her she smiled and said, 'Thank you, master.'
The Russian winked at Blade again and chuckled. 'You see. They all act like this.'
He stepped behind the girl, then reached around her to caress her bare breasts. She stared ahead with a fixed smile. The Russian manipulated her breasts - Blade could almost feel the flesh on his own fingers - squeezing and pushing first to one side, then the other, his fingers twiddling at her nipples.
The hands went lower along the tiny waist and slid over buttocks and reached around and explored her front. The girl trembled and moaned a bit, and Blade felt himself reacting.
The Russian gave her a little push and stepped away. 'That is all. You may go.'
The girl bowed. 'Thank you, master.'
The double came back to sprawl on the couch beside Blade. 'How about that, old man! They're all like that, all happy to oblige, and there must be a thousand of them around the palace. Nothing like that back in Russia, I assure you. I doubt if there is in England, from what I've seen.'
Blade sampled his wine just as the Russian did. Blade had poured and waited. The double raised his mug and his white teeth flashed. 'No monkey business, chap. No drugged wine. Not bad, is it?'
The wine was tart and dry. Blade guessed it had figs or dates as a base. He nodded. 'Very good. Now - are you interested in hearing my proposition?'
The Russian filled his glass again. Blade nurtured a faint hope, vain as it turned out, that the man was a drunk. It would make things easier.
'I'm listening,' said the double. For the first time there was a hard glint in his eyes that Blade recognized. He had seen it in his own.
Blade explained, briefly and without giving away any secrets, that the agent could regain Home Dimension only through Lord L's computer. There was no other way.
'This is not a time-space thing,' Blade said. 'Nor is it an all a dream, a reversal of reality. Nothing like that at all. There is no time slippage that can be corrected. I can't really explain it, and wouldn't if I could, but take my word for it. You are not going to suddenly wake up. Your brain was altered, molecularly restructured, by the computer. What has happened, in the simplest of terms, is that you have become aware of a new dimension that has been there all the time. You may very well have been walking through it, without perception, every time you entered the Kremlin. And the computer is the only way back.'
'Wizard,' said the Russian. 'Absolutely wizard. You chaps are far ahead of us. Our boffins haven't a clue to anything like this.'
Blade smiled. 'We hope to keep it that way. And I may as well tell you, by the way, that you overdo the 'British' bit a little. You sound like a stage Englishman.'
'Do I now? Strange, that I've only been copying you, Blade.'
Blade had to grin. 'Then I had better look to myself. Funny. I thought I was beginning to sound like a bloody Yank.'
'The proposition, old man?'
'Just that you defect to us.'
The Russian's amazement was genuine. 'Defect? Me? My very dear fellow, I - '
Blade watched him closely. 'Why not? In time, after all your security stuff is out of the way, you would have a better life. England is a better place to live, you know.'
The other man nodded slowly. He stared at Blade over the wine mug. 'That is opinion, not fact. But granting it - how could this be arranged?'
'Not difficult at all. You arrived naked, did you not?'
Another nod. A wry smile. 'Did I! Naked in a raging sea. Thinking I had lost my mind. If I hadn't found some floating wreckage I would have drowned.'
'You will be naked when you go back,' Blade said. 'You will be stunned and helpless and you will be arrested immediately. As a spy, an enemy agent, a man who threatened to blow up half of London. You will be put away for a very long time. You might want to defect then, but coming after the fact it won't carry much plausibility. But if you defect now, if you arrange it now with me, I can vouch for you when we get back. If we get back.'
The man leaned toward Blade. 'If, old man?'
Blade wanted to ruffle him, to worry him a bit. The man was too cool and sure of himself and Blade didn't like it. Psyche him a little, as the Americans said.
