The Garments of Caean

‘Aha! Caution, caution!’ Jadper tapped the side of his nose with his finger. ‘All right, then. Afterwards you can come back here and we’ll talk money.’

‘I’d rather it was somewhere outside, preferably in public,’ Mast said.

‘Oh, come, come! Don’t insult my hospitality!’

They sauntered back to the villa. From his manner one would think Jadper had ceased playing his jokes now. Mast pressed him once again to reveal how he was able to invoke clothing and buildings out of thin air.

‘It’s perfectly simple, really,’ Jadper said. ‘I’ll show you.’

As they went into the vestibule Mast glanced back and saw that the pavilion had already begun to collapse and dissolve, the panels of the walls curling up like paper in a fire. Jadper disappeared through a side door and returned a few moments later carrying a cylinder with a handgrip and an array of nozzles.

‘See.’ He pointed the nozzles and pressed a grip. A set of furniture shimmered into being across the floor: a dining table, chairs, and a sideboard.

‘There’s an aerosol for everything these days,’ Jadper chuckled. He opened the side of the cylinder and explained to Mast how the gadget worked. It was a programmed extrusion process controlled by insertable templates. Liquid plastic from a reservoir sprayed out in an atomized mist, hardening on contact with the air to form whatever structures the templates dictated.

The reservoir held an amazingly small volume of liquid. ‘It mixes with the air to make practically any bulk you like,’ Jadper told him. ‘And those solid objects are ninety nine point nine per cent air.’

‘Hence their lack of permanence,’ Mast commented.

‘Oh, they could be as durable as you like. But that would be in awful nuisance, don’t you think? I use a mixture with an ingredient that makes them instantly degradable.’

‘Ingenious,’ admitted Mast, ‘but I didn’t see you use an aerosol in the garden.’

For an answer Jadper laid the gadget down on an occasional table and, using his right hand, disconnected his left hand at the wrist. ‘I lost my real hand some years ago. Just making a virtue of necessity. Very handy, as you might say, for an amateur conjuror, eh?’

‘Is that what you call yourself?’ Mast responded drily. ‘It’s all very interesting.’ He watched the dining table, the sideboard and the chairs suddenly lose strength and cave in on themselves, gradually dissolving to tatters and then to dust. It would make a good epitaph for the quality of Jadper’s mind, he thought.

‘There’s an eating house called Mona’s at the corner of Engraft Street,’ he said. I’ll be there at three after noon, the day after tomorrow. Can I look forward to seeing your man?’

Jadper fastened his left hand back on with a click. ‘I’ll let you know if he can’t make it.’

‘How many more gadgets have you got in that hand?’ Mast asked, idly curious. ‘No – don’t show me. It doesn’t matter. As our business seems to be concluded for the moment I’ll be on my way.’

Hesitantly he stepped towards the door. Jadper raised the prosthetic hand in farewell.

‘Good luck attend you!’ he grinned.

As Mast passed through the doorway a bag of flour emptied over him from above. Jets of coloured fluid attacked him from several directions and he heard Jadper giggling and snorting behind him.

The step on the threshold gave way beneath his feet. He hurtled down a chute, where he felt metal fingers picking and tugging at him in the confused darkness. Seconds later he popped up again and found himself standing on the pathway some yards from the villa. He was wearing enormous pink pantaloons with purple spots, and an oversize baby’s bib.

He tore the foolery from him, wiped his face free of flour and mush, and after a last acrimonious glance at the villa, dodged the flailing arms of the jack-in-the-box and fled towards the gate.

*

Peder braced his legs against the acceleration of the slim private elevator as it raced up the shaft to the summit of the 300-storey Ravier Building. The elevator was his very own now that he had rented the penthouse on the skyscraper’s roof. It was one of several private shafts which served various levels of the tower.

The elevator slowed, giving him a momentary feeling of free fall, then slid smoothly to a stop. He stepped into the spacious main room of his apartment.

The view through the great curved window was still novel enough to cause him to pause to take it in. Gridira lay spread out below, sparkling in the sun. The River Laker curved round the south side of the city in the distance, glinting here and there where it became visible between buildings.

Definitely an improvement on Tarn Street!

He crossed the lounge to his desk. The vid had received a number of messages in his absence, mostly relating to his new business ventures. He replied to a few of these, giving instructions to his broker, to the manager of the new store he was opening in Gridira’s main shopping avenue, and to his financier.