Zero History

“Horrid man,” said Meredith, to Hollis.
“He is that,” Hollis agreed. “Prides himself.”
“I’m less anxious, now,” said George, though Hollis found it difficult to imagine him
anxious at all. “Hollis understands Reg’s process from experience. She puts things into
perspective.”
Meredith took Hollis’s cup now, and sipped gingerly from the slot in the plastic lid.
Wrinkled her nose. “Black,” she said.
“Sugar if you want it.”
“You’re really leaning on me now, aren’t you,” Meredith said to George.
“I am,” said George. “And I’ve waited until you’re in a very good mood.
“If that little shit hadn’t met my price,” Meredith said, “I wouldn’t be.”
“True,” said George, “but he did.”
“I think he wears them himself,” said Meredith. “Not that I think he’s gay. That would
make it okay, actually. He insisted on all the documentation, everything we’d collected on
their original owner. Something about that’s left me wanting a shower.” She took another
sip of hot black coffee and handed the cup back to Hollis. “You want to know who
designs the Gabriel Hounds.”
“I do,” said Hollis.
“Nice jacket.”
“A gift,” Hollis said, which was at least technically true.
“You’d have a hard time finding one now. They haven’t done them for a few seasons.
Not that they have seasons in the ordinary sense.”
“No?” Studiously avoiding the matter of who “they” were.
“When they remake the jackets, if they ever do, they’ll be exactly the same, cut from
exactly the same pattern. The fabric might be different, but only an otaku could tell.” She
began to collect the slender security cables that had secured the Chanel suits to their dress
forms, until she held them in one hand like a strange bouquet, or a steel flail.
“I don’t think I understand,” Hollis said.
“It’s about atemporality. About opting out of the industrialization of novelty. It’s about
deeper code.”
Reminding Hollis of something Milgrim might have said, but she’d forgotten exactly
what. She looked around, wondering if he was still in sight. He wasn’t.
“Lose something?”
“I’m here with someone. But never mind. Please.”
“I’m not sure I should help you with this. Probably I shouldn’t. And actually, I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“Because I’m no longer in the loop. Because they’ve gotten that much harder to find,
since I took Clammy to buy his jeans in Melbourne.”
“But you could tell me what you do know.” Hollis saw that George had busied himself
collapsing the chrome stands of the dress forms, closing up shop.