The security spells on the approaches to Lord Hairstreak’s weather-beaten Keep were set to discourage hawkers, messengers and casual callers by means of lethal force, teleporting the resultant corpses to the bottom of a disused, and now somewhat smelly, quarry. But an exception was programmed in for the engineers of Consolidated Magical Services who serviced Hairstreak’s Body in a Box, every six months as per contract, and who required free access in the event of an emergency.
The man in the reception hall was clearly no engineer. He wore a tailored suit in place of overalls and smelled of cheap aftershave rather than oil. Hairstreak could only assume the spell card had been confused by the CMS logo on his blazer pocket and permitted him entry in error.
The man stood up politely as Battus Polydamas trundled Hairstreak into the room. ‘Good morning, My Lord. May I say what a pleasure – indeed honour – it is to meet you.’
‘What do you want?’ Hairstreak growled. His tolerance of unexpected visitors, always low, had dropped to zero since he lost his natural body. This man looked like an accountant – he had flat, black, oiled-down hair and a pencil-slim moustache – which probably meant he’d come to try to raise the leasehold on Hairstreak’s Body. Not that he had any chance. Hairstreak’s lawyers had gone over the contract with a fine-tooth comb.
‘My name is Sulphur, Lyside Sulphur,’ the man introduced himself, ‘and it’s not so much what I want as what I can do for you, Your Lordship.’ He smiled and maintained firm eye-contact.
Oh Gods, he was a salesman! How had he made it past the mastiffs? They should have sniffed him out a mile away, even if he’d fooled the security system. But then Hairstreak should have spotted him himself. The moustache was a dead giveaway.
‘Have him fed to the alligators,’ he instructed Batty. ‘After you wheel me back to my study.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Battus began struggling to angle the barrow.
‘We can give you back your body,’ Mr Sulphur said.
‘Belay that order,’ Hairstreak said to Battus. He waited while his retainer manoeuvred him so he was facing the salesman again. ‘What did you say?’
Sulphur started to smile, caught Hairstreak’s expression and changed his mind. He swallowed audibly. ‘Well, obviously not your old body – that’s gone for good. Unfortunately. Or perhaps not. But we can give you a body.’
‘We?’
‘Consolidated Magical Services.’ He pointed at the logo on his jacket.
‘I know who you represent,’ said Hairstreak quietly. ‘I already have a CMS body.’
‘I’m not talking about a Body in a Box, sir – I mean a body. One that can walk and lift things.’ Sulphur was watching Hairstreak apprehensively, but clearly thought he’d grabbed an advantage because he pasted on the phony smile again and launched directly into his sales patter. ‘What’s more, sir, we have a special offer, one day only, for our existing customers. Trade in your present Body in a Box against our new, updated, stylish, fully automated BodyFree model and you will not only cover the down payment, but also qualify for an astounding twelve per cent discount on the overall purchase price, plus free head transfer and installation. What’s more, sir, should you elect to buy the deluxe model – which I’m sure a man of your discernment and stature would certainly consider – you qualify for our new two-year-guarantee no-cost after-sales service and the gift of a free fountain pen that will write with green ink under water.’
‘It can walk?’ Hairstreak said.
Sulphur frowned. ‘The pen?’
‘The body, you blithering idiot!’
Sulphur nodded enthusiastically. ‘Sir, this is one of the breakthroughs of the aeon. My company has taken the basic Body in a Box technology and revolutionised it. Our new entry-level model can not only support life just as effectively as the old-style cube, but walk under its own power, grip and lift objects with its mechanical arms and generally perform the motor functions of a normal human body.’
‘I could walk?’ Hairstreak said.
Sulphur was grinning broadly now. ‘Walk, dress yourself, feed yourself… with practice, of course. Could I interest you in a demonstration?’
‘Yes,’ Hairstreak said shortly.
Lyside Sulphur opened the briefcase he’d left beside his chair and took out a small, brightly coloured box. He cracked the sealant with his thumb, set it on the floor and flipped the lid. A stream of silver vapour poured out to form itself into a headless humanoid robotic shape which then solidified. ‘We have an artificial head,’ Sulphur explained as he fished in the briefcase again. ‘It runs on a chicken’s brain, so it’s very limited, but it’ll give you an idea of the unit’s capabilities.’ He unfolded a silver sphere and screwed it expertly on to the body. ‘Walk!’ he commanded.
The silver body lumbered across the room in Hairstreak’s direction, did a smart about-turn before it reached him and lumbered back again.
‘Pick up the vase on the table!’ Sulphur glanced reassuringly at Hairstreak. ‘Don’t worry, sir, we’re insured for breakages.’
The creature – now it had a head of sorts, Hairstreak was beginning to think of it as a creature in its own right – clumped over to the table and picked up the vase with surprising ease.
‘Now watch this,’ Sulphur instructed excitedly. ‘Toss the vase and catch it!’
Hairstreak wouldn’t have bet tuppence on the fate of his vase, but the thing threw it several feet in the air and caught it expertly on the way down.
‘Impressive or what?’ Sulphur exclaimed.
‘Impressive,’ Hairstreak grunted grudgingly.
‘Of course,’ Sulphur said in that irritatingly informal way salesmen always seemed to adopt when they were circling for the kill, ‘if you’re concerned with looks, then the unit leaves a lot to be desired. It’s a little better when you put clothes on it, but – and my boss would jail me if he knew I’d told you this – I don’t like the design at all. The technology – wonderful. The design – well…’ He shook his head sadly, then brightened suddenly. ‘The deluxe model makes up for a great deal in that department.’ He batted his eyelids in Hairstreak’s direction and asked innocently, ‘Would you like to see a demonstration of our deluxe model, Lord Hairstreak?’
‘Yes,’ Hairstreak told him. Within the confines of his present Body in a Box, the area of his stomach was feeling a tingle of excitement.
‘I’m not taking up too much of your valuable time?’ Sulphur asked.
Hairstreak wondered vaguely what the penalty was for strangling a salesman with your bare hands. Not that he had bare hands to strangle with, but if he bought the body that had tossed the vase, it could be one of his first actions as a newly mobile Faerie of the Night. For the moment, however, he bit back his irritation and simply answered, ‘No, you’re not.’
Smiling slightly to himself, Sulphur returned to his briefcase. This time the box he took out had none of the garish colours of the last one. Instead, it sported a sophisticated holographic design that incorporated – Hairstreak noticed at once – the Hairstreak family crest. It was a typical salesman’s set-up. CMS had obviously created custom packaging for the body they hoped to sell him, perhaps even created a custom body. The basic model, robotic, clumsy, chicken-brained and ugly was still standing there to create a contrast with the deluxe super-duper model. What he was about to see would be very, very expensive indeed. But it might also be quite interesting.
It was certainly very different. Hairstreak saw that at once, the moment Sulphur flipped open the box. In place of the silver vapour (which was obviously based on the old genie technology) a pink and black origami sheet emerged. It began to unfold itself into an elaborate flower, from the centre of which sprang a life-sized hologram of a naked human figure that began to solidify visibly on contact with the air. Where the original metallic robot had been headless, this form was complete. As it stabilised, it turned slowly towards him and Hairstreak realised he was looking at a perfect representation of himself, head to toe. And not as he was now, but as he used to be when he enjoyed the fullness of his health.
He fought back the instinct to gasp, which would have given the oily little salesman an advantage in negotiations. The body was incredible, his replica in every way, yet with subtle exceptions. It was taller than he used to be and better muscled. The skin tone looked more healthy – smoother, with fewer blemishes and less body hair. There was an aura of strength and power about this creature that he liked very, very much.
‘Of course the head is for display purposes only,’ Sulphur said, disconcertingly passing his hand through it to demonstrate. ‘But our designers have animated it to give you some small feel of how you would look should you decide to invest in our new BodyFree deluxe design.’ He patted the solid shoulder and the head smiled at Hairstreak benignly. It was a beautiful smile, full of depth and wisdom.
Hairstreak knew he was going to buy this BodyFree deluxe whatever it cost. Knew he had to have it, and put Battus out to pasture for a long-overdue retirement. But he held tight rein on his emotions and said flatly, ‘Let’s see it move.’
‘Certainly, Your Lordship. Perhaps if your factotum wheeled you back a bit, we could give it a little more room…’
Hairstreak gave an eye signal to Battus, who pulled the barrow back towards the door. ‘That good enough?’ Hairstreak asked.
‘Admirable,’ said Sulphur.
The demonstration was incredible. The figure burst into action like an athlete. It ran the entire length of the reception chamber with the grace of a gazelle, then cartwheeled back in the fashion of a gymnast. It leaped over tables and chairs, then hurled itself upwards to swing briefly from the chandelier before dropping lightly to the ground with its back arched, arms stretched and bum pushed out.
‘I’ll take it,’ Hairstreak said.
‘Our entry-level model or the deluxe?’ asked Sulphur innocently.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Hairstreak growled. ‘Now talk to me about the head transfer.’
Sulphur was grinning broadly now. His commission on this single sale would probably earn him an obscene sum of money. ‘That’s another benefit of our deluxe model, sir. We find our customers are typically – and understandably – impatient to experience the benefits of their new bodies, so this model comes equipped as standard with the very latest magnetic slide technology which completely obviates the need for surgery. Essentially, what we do is to infuse your present Body in a Box with specially treated iron filings. These are absorbed by your natural head, thus rendering it magnetic. After that, a simple stasis spell allows us to remove your head from the box and transfer it to the shoulders of your new body – you experience the moment of blankness typical of the stasis spell. Once in place, the magnetic field of the body holds the head firmly in place – we’ve tested it against a pull of seven thousand tons; far in excess of anything your natural body could ever have withstood. The greatest benefit, of course, is that henceforth all your body-head connections are magnetic – far more efficient than the old flesh/blood/nerve connectors of a natural body.’
‘What are the vulnerabilities?’ Hairstreak asked.
‘None. As I think I mentioned, the base technology is that of our Body in a Box, so the unit is solar powered and indestructible. Once you’ve been joined, you are essentially immortal and invulnerable.’
Hairstreak frowned. ‘Essentially?’
‘Your natural head remains vulnerable,’ Sulphur explained. ‘Although we can offer at extra cost a spray-on armour plating that will help somewhat with that problem. The body itself is immortal and invulnerable. It doesn’t even require our after-sales service.’
Hairstreak licked his lips, his eyes bright. ‘I assume all this involves a visit to the CMS clinic? How long does the transfer take?’
Sulphur picked up his briefcase again and began to shuffle papers. ‘Actually, sir, this is the great benefit of magnetic slide technology. Once you have signed the contract, we can make the transfer, without any need of clinic facilities, here in your own home. Typically the whole thing takes less than half an hour.’
‘Let’s have the contract,’ Hairstreak said.
Once the transfer was complete, Hairstreak celebrated the athletic abilities of his new body by slitting Sulphur’s throat, disposing of the corpse, tearing up the contract and carefully destroying all evidence that the salesman had ever visited. No sense letting his enemies know he was fully mobile again. They’d find out eventually, of course, but in the interim, Sulphur’s disappearance would give him a definite edge.
He had a slight problem with clothing – the new body was bigger than his old one – but he found some formal garments that hung well enough once he removed their padding. Then he walked – walked! – to the gardens in the central courtyard.
He found Mella seated on a bench talking to a rabbit: how much the sweet child enjoyed the small glories of the natural world! And how few things fazed her. She devoted no more than a passing glance to his new body before focusing on his face and smiling broadly. ‘Why, Uncle Hairstreak, how kind of you visit. It’s not your usual day, unless I’m very much mistaken.’
Hairstreak sat down beside her. ‘Not mistaken at all. But I have something I wish to discuss with you.’
She shooed away the rabbit – which was just as well, Hairstreak thought, for even rabbits had ears – and turned to face him, knees primly together, a look of rapt attention on her face.
‘You know, of course, that I have plans to make you Queen of our Realm in the very near future,’ Hairstreak said.
‘Indeed, Uncle, and I am very grateful,’ Mella told him.
‘Well,’ said Hairstreak easily, ‘it occurred to me that now I have regained my mobility, regained my body, so to speak…’ He gestured at the new BodyFree and smiled slide-magnetically, ‘… it occurred to me that we might marry, so I could guide you henceforth as your husband and, eventually, as your King.’
‘Why, Uncle,’ Mella said. ‘What an absolutely spiffing idea!’