Karsten wiped his lips with a napkin and then handed his empty plate to the guide. "Any new rules this year, Warden?" he asked.
"No, I think the only new thing we have this year is that hunting jacket of yours, Mr. Karsten. It is new, isn't it?"
Karsten beamed. "Why, yes it is. Latest style, I think." He raised his arms to display the brilliant red garment the better. "It's a new kind of material. Guaranteed to be seen for half a mile, even at night." He lowered his arms, then patted one of the chest pockets. "But the best thing is that it's got a self-contained heating-cooling system built right in. All you have to do is to turn the dial and you get whatever weather you want."
The Warden looked impressed. "My," he said. "What won't they think of next." He smiled again. "I imagine that the people you're going to be hunting would give a pretty penny for one of those today. The weather man says it's going to be a bit chilly tonight."
Thurman lit a cigarette. "I guess it is rather hard on them, being dumped in the middle of the Preserve completely naked, so to speak." He sighed. "But then, they're criminals, after all."
"That's right," said Karsten. "And remember, they've got their paint to keep them warm," he added, laughing.
The Warden snapped his fingers. "I'm glad you reminded me, Mr. Karsten. The paint is a little different this year."
Karsten looked surprised. "They haven't changed the signals, have they?" he demanded.
"Oh, no," said the Warden. "Black stripes painted all around the body still mean he's an ordinary criminal, black and red alternating stripes mean crimes of passion, and all red stripes used for the subversives, of course. Just like always."