Guardians Of The Coral Throne

Chapter 25

J cleared his throat and began to read aloud.

To: Dr. L. Ferguson, Principal Psychiatric Officer, Project Dimension X

From: J

Concerning: Psychiatric assessment of R. Blade (Subject 1) in Report 97, 25 August.

Dear Dr. Ferguson: I am obliged to express a strongly dissenting opinion concerning certain of your assessments of subject's condition after completion of his recent mission.

You feel that subject's indications of ambiguous feelings at various points in his mission suggests an impairment of his decision-making powers. It is obvious to me that at most of those points the situation was indeed ambiguous. Subject's ability to recognize situations that are ambiguous and require caution in making decisions has been a major part of his extraordinary talent for special missions during the entire period I have been associated with him. It is not, repeat not, indicative of any conceivable psychiatric disorder.

You feel that subject's expressed distaste for involvement in the affairs of the various peoples encountered upon this mission may in the future lead to some dysfunctional withdrawal at a crucial moment, possibly leading to the death of the subject or the failure of a mission. Subject has encountered a great many highly distasteful phenomena during my period of association with him and reacted to them without failing to complete a mission. Failure to so react to some of these phenomena would in my opinion indicate a degree of gross insensitivity far more dangerous and «dysfunctional» than any possible distaste for political plots or the murder of a woman he came to care for.

There is in my opinion no conceivable danger of subject becoming ineffective for further missions due to either of the above conditions. I therefore consider your report's recommendations can and shall be rejected.

Richard Blade whistled in admiration at J's command of bureaucratic language. «That's paying him back in his own coin with a vengeance, sir.»

J smiled grimly. «I confess I was tempted to reply a bit more succinctly. Something on the order of 'Doctor Ferguson, you are a blazing ass who doesn't know what he's talking about. Richard Blade isn't crazy, but I have my doubts about you. Sincerely, J.' «

Blade laughed. «I can see the point. But Ferguson's actually no more out of touch with what it's like out in the field than any other ivory-tower type we'd be likely to get. Now if we could just find a good doctor who was in the Royal Marine Commandos, for example…»

J sighed. «If one existed, we'd almost certainly have turned him up by now. Well, I just wanted to read through the letter for you, so when Doctor Ferguson howls like a banshee you'll know why. Going abroad, this time, aren't you?»

«Yes. Just over to Paris for a week or two, though. I haven't dropped over that way for a couple of years, and there are some friends I want to look up.»

Knowing Blade, the friends were probably female. But that was Richard's affair. J rose as Blade did, the two men shook hands, and the office door closed behind the younger man.

J sat back down and stared at the letter on his desk. He was more worried about Richard that he would ever let on to anybody except Lord Leighton, more worried by far than he had let show in the letter. It was obvious to him that Tera's death had hit Blade hard. It wasn't so much the loss itself-Richard had certainly known that Tera would be staying behind when he himself returned to Home Dimension. It was how it had driven home a reminder of his terrible loneliness, a loneliness that surrounded him both in Home Dimension and in Dimension X. Blade had lived with that loneliness now for more years than any man should be asked to stand. Could he really stand it for as many more years? J wondered.

The damnable thing was how little anybody could do about it, at least until Blade retired. But that was a long way off, as things looked now. For the moment, what was there to do?

Nothing, really. If by some miracle Blade could find a woman who accepted his secret comings and goings, and was grateful for as much of him as she could get-but where was such a woman? She would be a paragon of virtue, and Richard was too much of a gentleman to subject anyone he would be bound to respect highly to a continuous ordeal of this sort. Damn, damn, damn!

So they would go on as they had done, and hope for better luck. But it was getting harder and harder for J to accept that. He smiled. Perhaps that meant he was getting too unstable for the job? Perhaps. But he doubted it. He too had survived moments of gloom before, many of them over more than forty years. It was just that this job seemed to be giving him so damned many of them!

He sighed and pressed the button for his secretary.