Free Fain the Sorcerer by Steve Aylett Page B

like a bulbul in a calcium birdcage. Fain looked beyond him at the box-hedges, and behind a green metal gate, a garden of fountains and swans and cherry mint breezes. Here and there through the garden moved giant snails with the heads of crocodiles. The tile lizard was sunning itself, glued to Fain ’ s shoulder.
    ‘ You are as suspect as surgeon water, ’ said the man, ‘ whoever you are. But I can cope with that. I was born with a head for my own personal use, and free will — of a kind. Take a gander at this. ’ He opened the book with a thump. ‘ If a book ’ s not big enough to creak it ’ s worthless to a professional scholar. ’ 75
    ‘ Does a truth require the death of so many trees to be stated once? ’
    ‘ Listen to this: “ Are they stars or holes in the trees? Are they truths or holes in the lies? ”’ Then he sat back, pleased with himself.
    ‘ I ’ m with you so far. ’
    ‘ So far you idiot? I just explained the universe! ’
    ‘ Most people build on the obvious to make a point. You seem to have run out of steam. ’
    ‘ Steam is it? I ’ ll kill you! ’ The man threw himself across the table at Fain, who vanished and reappeared near an ivy-twined pillar nearby.
    ‘ It ’ s such a beautiful day — must we fight? I ’ ve looked forward to meeting you. I want to understand things. Did you write this book? ’
    ‘ Of course not! ’
    ‘ Then these are not your own thoughts. Tell me your own thoughts. ’ Fain gestured to a pair of skeletons hung by manacles from an overgrown wall. ‘ For instance, these fellows look a bit pasty. What ’ s the story behind those? ’
    ‘ Pasty? They ’ re skeletons. Pastiness is the least of their concerns. ’
    ‘ What ’ s the greatest then? ’
    ‘ Their lack of usefulness, I suppose. The people who ran them are gone — why must these remain? ’
    ‘ Perhaps some creatures re-use such skeletons the way certain snails take up residence in the shells of their dead comrades. ’
    ‘ Let us hope. Meanwhile, you may have noticed these giant snails with the heads of crocodiles. ’ The man led Fain into the larger garden. ‘ I call them Vetifers — though, like all animals, they do not respond. But will we as a people ever take the hint and stop putting names on animals? I don ’ t think so. ’
    ‘ They look quite cute. Are they dangerous? ’
    ‘ They differ from crocodiles in that they are much, much faster. ’
    ‘ But they ’ re hardly moving. ’
    ‘ Crocodiles spend most of their time completely motionless. Therefore these creatures, though moving very slowly, are much, much faster than crocodiles. Aren ’ t you, Tony? ’
    The particular Vetifer which the man had turned to address lashed suddenly at him and he leapt back, laughing.
    ‘ Not such a laugh when you ’ re chained to a floor staple. I keep these things to get me over a fear from childhood. Guess what happened to me. ’
    ‘ Pounced upon by eight screaming chimps? ’
    ‘ No! ’
    ‘ Then I don ’ t want to know, ’ said Fain, and realised too late that the man had been referring to the werewolf encounter of his infancy. Careful not to curse himself, Fain tried to veer the conversation back on track. ‘ However, childhood has always interested me. What of your parents? ’
    ‘ Gone. And my servants are fish with training wheels — see? ’
    Fain looked to a pavilion at the far end of the garden, where indistinct devices moved in circles. ‘ Alright. ’
    ‘ Tiny bells line their stomachs to alarm upon escape. I envy them — they grew with no illusions of safety or protection. ’
    ‘ We have not been introduced, sir — I am Fain the Gardener. ’
    ‘ Geoffrey Cubeline. ’
    ‘ How long have you lived here, Mr Cubeline? ’
    ‘ Thirty-eight years, ’ said Cubeline. ‘ All my life. ’
    ‘ I ’ m sorry, Mr Cubeline, ’ said Fain, and travelled twenty years into the past. He stood in the midst of trees. Returning to the terrace, he entered a black