‘Ah, soul!’ said Lord Vetinari. ‘I didn’t think you had one, Mister Lipwig. Well, I live and learn.’ He steepled his fingers. ‘Mister Lipwig, Mister Simnel’s activities have drawn the eyes of the world. Of course one could not expect that every country, sizeable town and great city would not start thinking about the railway. It is a weapon, Mister Lipwig, a mercantile weapon. You may not know this because you don’t live in my world. Young Mister Simnel came to Ankh-Morpork because this dirty old town, for all its faults, is the very place upon which this world spins, the place where history is changed, where because of an enlightened and caring government — which is to say me — every man, child, dwarf, troll, werewolf, vampire and even zombie and yes, goblin, can call themselves free; free of any master, save the law, which applies to everybody equally whatever their species and status in life: Civis Ankhmorporkianus sum!’
There was a thump as Lord Vetinari banged his fist on the table. ‘Ankh-Morpork, Mister Lipwig, is not to be outdone! Now, I know you have been spending a lot of your time these days in making sure that the first fully commercial and grown-up train will indeed have a railway upon which it can run, and when it does it will be the wonder of the world. But all things move on, and it is for us to keep our city in the forefront of that movement.
‘No doubt you, Mister Lipwig, Sir Harry and Mister Simnel are already thinking ahead. May I suggest that a daily railway service to and from Quirm could only set the seal on the usefulness of the railways. While a more efficient way to get to Uberwald is eminently desirable, alas I fear it must wait. I am naturally being badgered by all the other governments to bring the railway to them, but Quirm is our neighbour and an important trading partner and’ — he lowered his voice — ‘perhaps we could get our fresh seafood before it walks to Ankh-Morpork on its own. Agreed?
‘You may leave the final details of the negotiations for the line to Sto Lat to Drumknott,’ Vetinari continued. ‘He has my permission to call upon the services of one of the dark clerks … The talents of Mister Smith would be eminently suitable for sorting out any … recalcitrant landowners, I think.’
Moist noticed that Drumknott’s eyes had an unusual gleam in them, although the little secretary said nothing.
‘You may go, Mister Lipwig, and may I counsel you that riding a golem horse in here again will be a very dangerous errand and may result in you having kittens.’ His lordship smiled nastily and continued, ‘Cedric is always waiting — twinkle, twinkle.’[29]
Leading the golem horse from the office, Moist thought, ‘Twinkle, twinkle? Oh, gods, it’s catching.’
Mustrum Ridcully, Archchancellor of Unseen University, was held up on his walk across the University’s Great Hall by Barnstable, one of the Bledlows.
The man touched the brim of his bowler hat in traditional salute, coughed politely and said, ‘Mister Archchancellor, sir, there’s a … person who wants to see you, and he won’t take no for an answer. A very sorry-looking cove, sir, looks like he never had a decent meal in his life, sir. And personally, sir, I reckon he’s just after a handout. Bit of an undesirable, sir, and he’s wearing a kind of a dress. Shall I show him the door, sir?’
The Archchancellor thought for a moment and said, ‘This man, does he smell like a badger?’
‘Oh yes, sir, you got it in one!’
Ridcully smiled. ‘Mister Barnstable, the old man to whom you refer is a master of every martial art ever conceived. In fact he conceived most of them himself and he is the only known master of déjà fu[30]. He can throw a punch into the air and it’ll follow you home and smack you in the face when you open your own front door. He is known as Lu-Tze, a name that strikes fear in those who don’t know how to pronounce it, let alone spell it. My advice is to smile at him and, with great care, deliver him to my office.’
Lu-Tze looked carefully at the range of brandies on the Archchancellor’s heaving, creaking drinks trolley and sat back. Ridcully, his pipe smoking like the funnel of Iron Girder, said, ‘How nice to see you, my old friend. It’s all about the locomotion, yes?’
‘Of course, Mustrum — is there anything else to talk about? The Procrastinators are grinding and everybody in Oi Dong is fearful of the Ginnungagap … the darkness at the end of the world before the new world takes its place, hmm? Although personally, I think it’s a jolly good idea, what with this one being all battered about and unkempt and uncared for. The only problem I have yet to solve is how to get from the dying world into the new world. That is a bit of a puzzle. But even the Abbot is disturbed about the arrival of steam engines when it isn’t steam-engine time.’
Ridcully poked at his pipe with a pipe cleaner and said, ‘Ye-es, that is a conundrum. Surely the steam engine cannot happen before it is steam-engine time? If you saw a pig, you would, I think, say to yourself, well, here’s a pig, so it must be time for pigs. You wouldn’t question its right to be there, would you?’
‘Certainly not,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘In any case, pork gives me the wind something dreadful. What we know is that the universe is a never-ending story that, happily, writes itself continuously. The trouble with my brethren in Oi Dong is that they are fixated on the belief that the universe can be totally understood, in every particular jot and tittle.’
Ridcully burst out laughing. ‘Oh, my word! You know, my wonderful associate Mister Ponder Stibbons appears to have fallen into the same misapprehension. It seems that even the very wise have neglected to take notice of one rather important goddess … Pippina, the lady with the Apple of Discord. She knows that the universe, while it requires rules and stability, also needs just a tincture of chaos, the unexpected, the surprising. Otherwise it would be a mechanism — a wonderful mechanism, ticking away the centuries, but with nothing different happening. And so we may assume that the loss of balance will be allowed this time and the beneficent lady will decree that this mechanism might yield wonderful things, given a chance.’
‘For my part, I would like to give it a chance,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘Serendipity is no stranger to me. I know the monks have been carefully shepherding the world, but I rather think they don’t realize that the sheep sometimes have better ideas. Uncertainty is always uncertain, but the difficulty with people who rely on systems is that they begin to believe that nearly everything is in some way a system and therefore, sooner or later, they become bureaucrats.
‘And so, my friend, I think we say hail Pippina and the occasional discord. I’m sure the rest of the circle will be of the same mind, to judge by their activities. After all, it’s as clear as the nose on your face: here is a steam engine. Ergo, it is steam-engine time.’
‘Hurrah!’ said Ridcully. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
‘Why, thank you. I’ll have a tincture of brandy with my tea, to keep out the cold, if you don’t mind,’ said Lu-Tze.
Moist sat at his desk, his mind churning over how best to introduce the matter of Quirm to Sir Harry. He blankly registered a … substantial … gentleman in front of him saying, ‘Mister Lipwig? I have a proposition to—’
29
The feared kitten torture was actually one dreamed up by Moist, and Vetinari had been impressed. In the dungeons of the palace there was a large iron maiden, seldom used. In these modern times the kitten torture regime was the punishment that would cause the miscreant to pause before doing anything that would place them in the dungeon again. The mechanism and the kittens were presided over by Cedric: not clever, but grateful for the pay packet every month, and he was very fond of kittens, with which the streets of Ankh-Morpork were overflowing. The kittens would be placed in the iron maiden in large numbers, along with the miscreant who could just about sit. At the bottom was a little hatch, large enough to push through a sizeable saucer of milk. Every time a kitten was in distress and made its distress noticeable, Cedric would open up the maiden and give the victim a whack with his cudgel, the amount of cudgelling being contingent on the state of upset of said kitten. There were some idiots who thought this laughable, but it worked, and after a certain amount of cudgelling visitors were said to be amazed at the general atmosphere of happiness inside the iron maiden, where the purring was so loud it resonated throughout the dungeon.
30
A discipline where the hands move in time as well as in space, the exponent twisting space behind his own back whilst doing so.