In spite of this disaster, they were trying to carry out their mission of extending the Menel empire. If they couldn't conquer this Dimension outright, perhaps they could do so by controlling some of the more formidable local wildlife? Some determined individual among the Menel must have asked that question. The result was the implanted bat-birds and sea reptiles.

Blade could not help wondering about the diary he held. Was it official and authorized, as a supplementary record of the Menel activities in this Dimension? Or had some Menel succumbed to the temptation to record privately what he and his comrades had done? Why had he succumbed, in that case? Out of loneliness, fear, despair, distrust of superiors who might not give him or someone close to him proper credit? Those were plausible motives for human beings in a situation like this, and ascribing those motives to the Menel made them seem much more human for a moment. It was also complete guesswork, and perhaps totally unjustified.

One thing was certain. The diary laid out for Blade to see all the weaknesses and vulnerabilities of the Menel. Whoever had kept that diary and for whatever reasons had, quite by accident, done his comrades a great deal of harm. Fortunately for him, he was probably one of the crash victims and would therefore never know. Meanwhile, Richard Blade sat with the diary in his hands.

It was almost ludicrous, the way the Great Menel Menace had evaporated or at least shrunk down to its proper size. Instead of a horde of Menel ready to sweep human beings from the face of this world, there was a battered handful of survivors desperately trying to improvise some sort of campaign with what little equipment they still had. Blade found himself reluctantly admiring their courage and determination, although he didn't think much of their common sense. And a campaign of conquest was still a campaign of conquest, no matter how sloppy or ineffective it might be.

There was also no guarantee that the Menel wouldn't sooner find some more effective method of attack. They might even find human allies, the way they'd found the Ice Master in the land of the Ice Dragons.

So there was still no time to waste. The peoples of this Dimension would have to be united, as fast as possible and as thoroughly as possible without telling them exactly why they had to unite. A few of the wisest leaders could be trusted with that truth, but for the time being no one else.

He would also have to give this Dimension gunpowder as quickly as possible. Gunpowder weapons were still not equal to the beamers of the Menel, but they would be better than spears and arrows. With a hundred cannon or a thousand muskets to every beamer, the Menel would certainly have their claws full in any battle.

Blade realized that he was letting his thoughts run on ridiculously far ahead of his knowledge, and turned back to the photographs in the diary. One of the last ones showed an aerial view of a two-masted sailing ship, all sails set and close-hauled. The human figures on the deck showed that the ship was about a hundred feet long. Most of the figures wore seaman's trousers, boots, and caps. Several wore long coats of chain mail, with horned helmets on their heads and broadswords or axes slung from belts at their waists.

What drew Blade's eye particularly were the long cylinders of various sizes pointing outward on either side of the main deck and also at the bow and stern. On the main deck someone was about to shove a large sponge on the end of a long pole into the outboard end of one of the cylinders. They could hardly be anything but cannon-perhaps crude, but judging from their size, quite powerful.

So somebody in this Dimension already had gunpowder. Who and where were they? There was no clue to where this picture had been taken. The sailing ship might have been just beyond the range of the Hauri canoes, or it might have been half a world away.

In any case, it was absolutely necessary to search out these people. If they became allies and friends, it would give the other peoples of this Dimension gunpowder weapons many years sooner. If they became enemies-or even worse allies of the Menel-well, that had to be prevented somehow.

Blade suddenly realized that the candle had gone out and the hut was so dark he could barely make out the photographs in the book across his knees. Fudan was slumped over his pile of shellfish, sound asleep, his knife still in his hand.

Blade yawned, and realized that he also was ready for sleep. Certainly he could do nothing more against the Menel now, even if he stayed up all night.

The storm died by morning and Fudan put out to sea in his canoe, a small bag of black pearls slung at his waist. He wanted Blade to come with him, but Blade refused. He did not want to bring any of the Menel equipment to a Hauri village or a Kargoi camp at the moment.

«It is possible that the Menel have put in some of these little machines devices that give off signals-like smoke signals, but invisible. Such signals can be heard many days' sailing away. The Menel might follow the signals in another flying machine and destroy whatever and whoever they found. If they do that while I am here, I alone will die, not a whole village.»

Fudan sighed. «I could say that your wisdom is worth a whole village, and it would be true. But it would not change your mind, would it?»

Blade shook his head. «If I am killed, look for a boulder marked with a blue triangle on top of that hill to the east.» He pointed. «Under it I will put a written plan of how to fight the Menel. In that plan will be everything you will need to know to go on without me.»

«Should I tell anyone else of what we have seen and learned on this voyage?»

Blade was about to shake his head, but some note in Fudan's voice made him stop. «Are you thinking of anyone in particular?»

«Yes. The man you would have as High Baudz of the Kargoi, Paor. He has been asking many questions about what we have seen of the sea reptiles. I began to wonder if he suspects something about them.»

«But you didn't tell me, because I didn't ask?» said Blade, laughing.

«That is true. Then you wish me to tell him?»

«Yes. It is time that he learned. I trust him to keep silent until it is time to speak of this to other people.»

«Very good. Farewell, Blade, and do not stay here alone too long. Both the Hauri and the Kargoi have too great a need of you.»

Blade shook hands with Fudan and watched the chief go down to the shore and climb into his canoe. When Fudan's sail was out of sight, Blade returned to the hut and the study of his Menel souvenirs.

For all that he learned from them during the next four days, Blade might just as well have gone with Fudan. Even the photographs lost interest for him after looking at them twenty times. He was able to spend a day writing up his report and concealing it on the hill, but that was only one day, and he was determined to give the Menel at least a week. If they hadn't done anything to trace their missing gear by then, it would probably be safe for him to go home.

Blade was just lighting the candle on the fifth evening when someone knocked on the door of the hut. He blew out the candle, picked up his sword, and went to the door.

He needed no weapons for the visitor. It was Loya, dressed in her usual trousers, her staff in one hand and a bag of food slung over the other shoulder. She was barefoot and there were salt stains on her trousers and in her hair.

«Am I welcome, in spite of that?» she said, pointing at the sword. Her broad mouth curved into a mocking smile.

«Certainly.» Blade put down the sword and closed the door behind her. «Perhaps in return for my welcome you will tell me why you have come here?»

«Why does any woman come to a man she has chosen and who has accepted her-or so she has been told?» There was no mockery in the smile now. «It is not good for you to be alone so long.»