you try and drop something through the Earthâs atmosphere, it burns up, so as it turns out I neednât have bothered. All right?â
Jane stared. âAre you serious?â she demanded.
âNo,â Kiss said, pointedly not looking at the picture of the three kittens. âMost of the time Iâm aggravatingly frivolous. If you mean am I telling the truth, the answer is yes.â
âA friend of yours was trying to destroy the planet ?â
âWell, sort of.â Kiss yawned, and stretched. âActually, heâs just this bloke Iâve known for, oh, donkeyâs years; and he wasnât planning on destroying the Earth, just all non-vegetable life forms. Or at least I assume that was what he had in mind. My split-second spectroscopic analysis of the plant seeds leads me to believe that that would have been the inevitable result. Bloody great primroses,â he added with a grin. âWith teeth.â
âHadnât you better tell me whatâs going on?â
Kiss shook his head. âTricky,â he said. âYou remember what I told you about being limited to the possible? However; to start with the primary question, Is there a God? we really have to address the . . .â
Jane asked him to be more specific.
âGuesswork, largely,â Kiss replied, materialising an apple and peeling it with his claws. âMy guess is that somebody hired my old chum to destroy the human race. Somebody a bit funny in the head, I shouldnât be surprised.â
âThis chum of yours -â
âA genie,â Kiss explained. âA Force Twelve, like me. Thatâs pretty hot stuff, actually, though normally I wouldnât dream of saying so. We rank equal and above the Nine Dragon Kings, just below the Great Sage, Equal of Heaven. We get fuel allowance but no pension.â
âAnd this particular . . .â
âHe goes by the name,â Kiss said, straight-faced by sheer effort of will, âof Philadelphia Machine and Tool Corporation the Ninth, or Philly Nine for short. Remarkable chiefly for how little time heâs had to spend in bottles. Heâs a shrewd cookie, Philly Nine, always was. Mad as a hatter, too, of course.â
âI see.â Jane sat down on a desperately fragile Tang-dynasty vase, the molecular structure of which Kiss was able to beef up just in the nick of time. âSo heâs dangerous.â
âYou might say that,â Kiss responded, spitting out apple pips, âif you were prone to ludicrous understatements. If midwinter at the South Pole is a bit nippy and the Third Reich was, on balance, not a terribly good idea, then yes, Philly Nine is dangerous. Apart from that, a more charming fellow you couldnât hope to meet. Plays the harpsichord.â
Jane blinked twice in rapid succession. âOh God,â she said.
âAh yes,â Kiss replied, âI was just coming on to that. If we posit the existence of an omnipotent supreme being -â
âWill you shut up!â Jane looked around for something solid and reassuring in which she could put her trust. Unfortunately, everything she could see had the disadvantage, as far as she was concerned, of having been materialised or otherwise supplied by a genie. Eventually she found her left shoe, which she had brought with her
from the life sheâd been leading before all this started to happen. She hugged it to her.
âSorry, Iâm sure. Do you want me to make a start on the conservatory?â
âAll this,â Jane mumbled. âIt is real, isnât it? I mean . . .â
Kiss clicked his tongue. âTry banging your head on it if youâre in any doubt. I have to say, I find all this ever so slightly wounding. I mean, I do my level best to make things nice for you, and the first thing I know youâre questioning its very existence. Gift horsesâ teeth, in other words.â
âI thought I told you to be