“Do it yourself. Just reach in and pull it out.”
“Reach in? I don’t want my hand to melt!”
“It won’t. The action isn’t instantaneous. You saw that yourself. It takes a few minutes for the change to take place. You can reach into the locker without any ill effects, if you don’t leave your hand exposed to the conditions for more than a minute or so. I’ll show you.” Galloway languidly arose, looked around, and picked up an empty demijohn. He dropped this into the locker.
The change wasn’t immediate. It occurred slowly, the demijohn altering its shape and size till it was a distorted cube the apparent size of a cube of sugar. Galloway reached down and brought it up again, placing the cube on the floor.
It grew. It was a demijohn again.
“Now the bench. Look out.”
Galloway rescued the little pyramid. Presently it became the original workbench.
“You see? I’ll bet a storage company would like this. You could probably pack all the furniture in Brooklyn in here, but there’d be trouble in getting what you wanted out again. The physical change, you know—”
“Keep a chart,” Vanning suggested absently. “Draw a picture of how the thing looks inside the locker, and note down what it was.”
“The legal brain,” Galloway said. “I want a drink.” He returned to his couch and clutched the siphon in a grip of death.