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Matthew worked mainly in business circles, keeping the City…if not actually honest, at least a lot more cautious. He also tended towards scorched-earth solutions to most problems, in which there was no such thing as an i
"Ah, Eddie…Super to see you again, old thing. You’re looking very…urban. Back from exile so soon? What happened, old boy? Run into something you couldn’t handle? You should have called me; you know I’m always ready to sail in and save the day."
"Yeah," I said. "That’ll happen. Actually, the Matriarch summoned me back here to personally brief me on my next mission." I don’t normally stoop to one-upmanship, but Matthew always did bring out the worst in me. His pleasant smile started to look a bit forced, so I pushed things a little further. "I’m surprised you didn’t hear, Matthew. I always thought you were cleared for top-level discussions."
"Really?" he murmured. "A secret mission, you say? Do tell…I’m just dying to know what kind of top-level mission would demand someone of your…particular talents."
"Sorry," I said. "But it would appear you don’t have high enough clearance."
He stiffened perceptibly and turned abruptly away to bestow his most charming smile on Alexandra. "Lexxy, darling, I come to you in need. I’m afraid I just have to have another truth field generator. I absolutely wore the last one out, following paper trails through the City on that big Brazilian fraud case…"
"Of course, Matthew. Nothing but the best for the family’s golden boy. Come with me, and I’ll fix you right up."
They both turned their backs on me and strolled away arm in arm, laughing easily together. The Armourer and I looked after them.
"What that girl needs," said the Armourer, "is a right good—"
I quickly dropped my clapped-out portable door on the bench in front of him. "I need this recharged. And as soon as possible."
"I know, I know; I’ve read the chitty. Matriarch wants you fully equipped with the best we’ve got and out of here, on the double. Business as usual, these days." He called for one of his interns, who came and took the portable door away, holding it at arm’s length like a dead mouse. The Armourer lurched to his feet and fixed me with a penetrating stare. "You come with me, Eddie. And I’ll show you a few things that might just keep you alive when everyone else wants you dead."
He led me over to another testing bench, shooing away half a dozen interns, and picked up a large silver handgun. He weighed it thoughtfully in his hand, and then passed it over to me. I raised an eyebrow at how heavy it was, and he smiled proudly.
"That is a Colt Repeater. It never runs out of bullets, and it aims itself. All you have to do is point it in the right general direction, and the gun will take care of the rest. Even you should be able to manage that, Eddie."
"What about recoil?" I said, just to be picky.
"Since I made it with people like you in mind, none worth the mention. Try not to use it for too long at one time, or the binding spells will overheat, and the replacement bullets might not be able to find the gun."
"Why is it so heavy?"
He gri
He tossed me a shoulder holster, and I struggled into it as he led me over to another bench. I hate shoulder holsters. How women manage with brassieres, I’ll never know. I’d got it more or less into place by the time the Armourer was ready to show me his next creation. It looked a whole lot like an ordinary wristwatch.
"It looks a whole lot like an ordinary wristwatch," I said.
"Well, you wouldn’t want one that shouted Look at me! I belong to a field agent!, would you? This is a reverse watch. Looks and works as normal, except for this button here. Don’t touch it, except when you mean to use it. Push it down hard, and the watch will reverse time, rewinding the last thirty seconds of your life. This will give you a second chance to undo your more serious mistakes. But be warned: any attempt to meddle with time is dangerous. Don’t use the reverse function too often; it might attract the attention of certain beings who take time disruption very seriously."
I accepted the watch gingerly. "How does it work?"
"You wouldn’t understand if I told you, so just put it on and pay attention to this."
I put the watch on, slipped my old Rolex into my jacket pocket, and looked at the compass the Armourer was holding. It looked a whole lot like an ordinary compass. The Armourer looked at me, but I just smiled politely. I hate to be predictable.
"This compass will show you the best way out of any situation, no matter how turned around you’ve got yourself. It’s preprogrammed to lock onto the nearest viable exit and take you there. Just follow where the needle points. The Matriarch specifically asked for something simple in this line, and this is so simple a dog could use it. Just keep it away from strong magnetic forces, or it gets confused. If it starts sticking, grease the works up with a little butter. Only the best butter, of course."
"Oh, of course."
"Now then, what else have I got for you? I had a really nice aboriginal pointing bone, but someone stirred their coffee with it, and it was never the same after that. Then there was the personality enhancer…Looked really good on the drawing board. The idea behind that one was that you’d use it to bring to the fore whatever part of your personality was best suited to deal with the situation you found yourself in."
"Do I gather something went wrong?"
"The enhancing part went fine. It was shutting the bloody things down afterwards that was the problem. So far we’re dealing with six cases of multiple personality disorder, and two cases of people refusing to talk to themselves. Further testing has been suspended. Ah! Yes; this is what I was looking for."
He presented me with a small blue-black lacquered box, not much bigger than a matchbox, with a big red button on top. I shook it to see if it would rattle, and the Armourer actually winced.
"Please don’t do that. What you’re holding is a prototype we haven’t finished testing yet, but the Matriarch said she wanted you supplied with the very best we could offer, so…That is a random teleport generator. Press the button, and the box will instantly send you somewhere else. And because it chooses each destination at random, no one will be able to trail you. Use it to escape from prison cells, blind alleys, death traps, that sort of thing. It works perfectly, except for the times when it doesn’t."
"What?"
"Which part of the word random do you need explained to you, Eddie? This box could send you anywhere, theoretically. It’s preprogrammed not to rematerialise you inside anything solid, but apart from that, all bets are off. You could end up at the North Pole. Or Death Valley. Or the Mariana Trench—"
"I get the idea. Think I’ll pass on this one."
I handed the box back to him very carefully. He shrugged and put the box down very carefully on the bench. "Suit yourself, boy."
"Maybe Matthew would like to test it."
"Now you’re just being nasty."
I gri
"You watch yourself out there, Eddie," he said gruffly. "It’s a lot scarier out in the world now, than it was in my day."
The Armourer had spent twenty years as a field agent. That was what made him such a fine Armourer. He always understood that his clever devices had to work in the real world, not just in the labs. Alexandra, on the other hand, had never been out in the field in her life.
"Don’t worry," I said. "I’ll be careful, Uncle Jack."