«I thought so,» said Blade. «But why did they make the Ice Dragons in the first place?»
The scientist's gesture was the Menel equivalent of a shrug. «Who is to be certain, now they are dead. It is known that the leaders of Menel expeditions sometimes go mad. One out of a thousand, no more, but it has happened. Sometimes they even find the crew is behind them, not fighting them. We try to find ways that it will not happen again, and the Kananites help us. So far-no success.» Another shrug.
The discussion turned to Blade's other meeting with the Menel, where they'd been sending the birds and sea beasts against the human inhabitants of a Dimension slowly vanishing under a rising sea. The scientist agreed with Blade's guess that it was a case of a shipwrecked expedition trying to do the best it could with limited resources.
«I do not say what they did to the people or even the animals is good,» he said. «Yet-we Menel cannot live well too close to water, with air too wet. They needed land on the continents, not just on their island. The people you have described-they would not make peace with those shaped like us. Or do you think otherwise?»
Blade had to admit the scientist was right. Even highly civilized people could fly into a panic over minor differences of skin color. Tribes of barbarians seeing a Menel would shoot first and not ask questions at all.
«When they have some land of their own, they will try to make peace with the humans and help them. Otherwise they could only sit down on their island and die.»
The scientist hesitated, then went on in a tone Blade recognized even through the electronic translation of the Speaker. It was the tone of a scientist who will not pretend to knowledge he doesn't have.
«At least-these things I have said would be so, if the Menel you met were the Menel of this Dimension. I do not think both of them were. I would say that the Menel who made the Ice Dragons were of a Dimension in which they were rulers and conquerors of space and stars. Perhaps there never were Kananites, or perhaps the Menel were the masters.»
Blade swallowed. «And the Menel of the water world?»
«It is not impossible they were my people. They seem to be very much like them. Certainly starships disappear at times. Who knows if they do not pass into another Dimension, where the world they seek is not as they expect? But I think they also are a different Menel, less different than those of the Ice Dragons but still not my people.»
The scientist went on, painting a mind-freezing picture of a reality consisting of an infinite number of Dimensions, each of which might be infinite in space. The idea had occurred to Blade, but he found it hard to sit calmly and hear someone else discuss it as a real possibility.
«I don't reject this,» he said finally. «In fact it's much the simplest explanation. Among other things, it means I haven't been getting bounced around in space as well as in Dimension. But if there is this infinity of infinities, why did I end up three times in Dimensions with Menel in them?»
«If I knew that answer, I would be much closer to that Dimension X secret you would be happy we did not have,» said the scientist. «I do not. I have only the theory, that Dimensions which have things in common-«
«Such as Menel?»
«Yes. Or your race, which you have always found in Dimension X. These Dimensions with things in common-they are closer together than Dimensions which have other life or no life at all. I think the Dimension where you met the Wizard of Rentoro must have been the closest one of all, so close he could pass into it by his mind strength alone.»
Blade laughed. The Menel scientist's words gave him a picture of reality as a huge vinyard, with each grape a Dimension and each bunch of grapes a cluster of Dimensions with something in common. In some bunches the link was the Menel, in others humans, in others Kananites, in others beings who breathed hydrogen, saw by infrared, and had twelve tentacles, in still others things beyond imagining.
It was a weird picture, but then any picture of a reality that was infinite in several different ways at once couldn't be anything else. Once again Blade was glad he hadn't tried to become a scientist. He simply didn't have whatever was needed to make a person able to deal with this sort of concept day after day. His talents ran more to dealing with the practical problems of one Dimension at a time.
Lord Leighton, on the other hand, was going to have fun with this picture. Perhaps «fun» wasn't the right word. It raised an ugly question: was any reliable sort of inter-Dimension travel ever going to be possible? If it wasn't, what would be left to justify Project Dimension X? It was far too expensive to keep going as a pure research project, although Lord Leighton would still fight for it like a mother bear for her cubs.
There could be a nasty homecoming ahead, Blade realized. First, though, came the comparatively straightforward job of removing Loyun Chard's starship from this Dimension. Lord Leighton could take his turn.
Blade ended the discussion with the Menel scientist as soon as he politely could. Then he ordered several bottles of wine and called up Riyannah. He wanted a lot of both to help him get back in touch with the one reality around him.
Blade and Riyannah returned to Targa in a Kananite ship. Riyannah was now disguised as a Targan. The best doctors and surgeons on Kanan did the work, but even so it wasn't completely successful. Her hair was now dark and close-cropped but still too fine for any Targan's. Artificial skin fastened the last two fingers of each hand together into an awkward bundle but couldn't completely hide the extra joints. Chemical injections changed her skin and eye color to something that just possibly might have been Targan. There was nothing anybody could do about her slimness.
Fortunately she didn't have to fool the underground, because she never could. Blade wasn't even sure she'd be able to fool the enemy, «unless the light is weak and they're in a hurry or too drunk to see straight,» as he put it. He still didn't object, since Riyannah wanted it this way. She had almost enough reasons to justify risking her neck.
«I'm an observer for the War Council, and how can I do my job if I can't go where I can observe? Besides, you may need another pair of eyes and ears and another gun for dealing with the underground. You've said it yourself-'Bare is the back that has no brother to defend it.' Perhaps a sister will do as well.»
«If that sister is you, she will,» said Blade. He hoped things would work out so that Riyannah didn't have to follow him every inch of the way. Otherwise nothing short of locking her up would keep her out of danger.
They made the return trip considerably faster than they'd made the trip out. The captain was pushing both the ship and the passengers to their limits. After the first Transition Riyannah was unconscious for six hours and Blade was disoriented for half the next day. After that they both put away their pride and took the other three Transitions to Targa under drugs.
They spent several days on the asteroid base. Blade noticed two welcome signs that someone was taking the danger of war seriously. A Menel starship came in and unloaded a dozen short-range patrol ships. A big Kananite ship loaded several hundred civilians and all their baggage, then left for home.
On the sixth day another Kananite ship unloaded the interplanetary craft that would take Blade and Riyannah the rest of the way to Targa. She was small, sleek, heavily armored, and bristling with hurd-ray projectors and missile launchers. Her crew were proud of their ship and ready for a fight against the Targans. They were almost disappointed when Blade told them their mission on this trip was to sneak in without being detected.