However, Adora Belle couldn’t conceal her dismay about losing her husband again for yet another prolonged absence in a foreign country.
‘Quirm isn’t that far away,’ Moist soothed. ‘And once I get the local lads on side it won’t be too bad.’
Adora Belle cleared her throat. ‘Garçons. If they’re lobsters, your lads will be known as garçons.’
‘What?’
‘Garçons. It’s Quirmian, but don’t worry, most of them speak Morporkian. And you know why? Because none of us can be bothered to learn Quirmian.’
‘Well, no matter what they’re called. Once the railway line’s built I’ll probably be able to come home more often.’ He paused to take another mouthful of pie. ‘By the way, Harry’s just had a clacks from the King of Lancre asking if we could eventually run a line all the way to his kingdom so that, and I quote, “Lancre can take its rightful place on the world stage”.’
‘Don’t underestimate that place,’ said Adora Belle. ‘They’ve got witches up there. They fly up to the clacks towers and scrounge coffee off the lads — well, at least one of them does, especially when the lads are young and the goblins aren’t on shift. And then there are all the dwarf mines up at Copperhead. I’m sure they could find a use for the railway.’
Moist made a face. ‘The lads say no way. It’s too steep, and anyway, the Lancre bridge wouldn’t take the weight of the engine. Sorry. But I suppose we could tell his majesty that we’ll send surveyors to take a look once the Quirm line’s complete.’ Moist put down his fork. ‘But here we are, and it looks like for the first time in ages we have an evening free. What shall we do? Perhaps it might be a good idea to give the staff the rest of the evening off …’
And Adora Belle replied with a smile, ‘Yes … What shall we do?’
‘It’s simply mechanical,’ said Ponder Stibbons over tea in the Uncommon Room at Unseen University. ‘It just looks magical.’
‘Shouldn’t be allowed, then,’ said the Senior Wrangler, spearing a whole pie with his fork. ‘Looking magical is our business.’
‘Well,’ said Mustrum Ridcully, pointedly ignoring him, ‘you can’t stand in the way of progress, so why don’t you hitch a ride on it? Does anyone else want a train ride? It gets so stuffy in here and I’m sure we don’t want people thinking of us as being stick-in-the-muds.’
‘But we are stick-in-the-muds,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. ‘I treasure the fact.’
‘Nevertheless, it’s time we looked the railway in the face. Mister Stibbons will lead the way.’
The wizards left the University in a small fleet of coaches which caused quite a stir when they appeared at the Ankh-Morpork terminus. Stibbons, knowing his fellow wizards, had made arrangements beforehand and a special train had been laid on for the occasion, with particularly well cushioned seats.
‘You will of course travel First Class, gentlemen,’ said the station master, who had been well primed by Stibbons. ‘But if you wish, some of you might be able to ride on the footplate.’ He hesitated and said, ‘Although I’m not sure those robes would be safe.’
The Archchancellor burst out laughing. ‘Young man, a wizard’s robe is impervious to fire. Good grief, if they weren’t we’d be burned alive every day before elevenses!’
Stibbons, who had already had several rides with Iron Girder over the previous weeks followed by some intense conversations with Dick Simnel, had got the hang of the business and took some pleasure in seeing the best minds in the University coming to terms with their first railway ride.
It was a short journey to Upunder and back, including a dinner at the halfway mark which lasted longer than the train ride itself. On the homeward stretch, the Chair of Indefinite Studies was allowed to operate the emergency brake to the envy of the rest of the wizards, and there was a certain amount of waving of flags, blowing of whistles, and slamming of doors at each stop for the wizards to try their hands at. Iron Girder was in full steam and the fireproof wizards taking their turn on the footplate stared into the fire box and approved.[37]
Replete and tired on their way back to Ankh-Morpork, they considered this new form of locomotion as a phenomenon. The Senior Wrangler thought about objecting again, but was too full.
‘Amazing, people waving at you as you go past,’ said Ridcully. ‘I’ve never seen that before. Who’d have thought it? Machinery making people smile. What are you writing down, Mister Stibbons?’
Blushing, Stibbons said, ‘I like to spot an occasional train, you know … I’m just interested in them … It’s like watching the future go past.’
The Archchancellor smiled and said, ‘Then perhaps we should be the ones who are minding the doors, not to mention the gap, because the future is coming down the track fast. And who knows what is going to arrive next.’
It was a wonderful sunny day. Skylarks sang in the deep blue sky. It was a great day to be alive. Moist, needing a change of air, walked away from the compound with a spring in his step, a little way along the railway track.
And right there on this perfect day … yes, there out of sight of anyone excepting, of course, the ambling Moist himself, on the rail that Iron Girder would have to travel along as soon as she came around the bend on to the little incline leading to the station, were two small … creatures. Rabbits, his common sense tried to tell him, plenty of them around here … even the compound was riddled with them. And, for a moment, the whole world stopped right in his face, leaving him spinning slowly in a little world of his own, looking out on to the real one.
There were the main engine sheds, over there was the crowd queueing for their rides, and there on the track was the future of the railway. It was one perfect moment where time stretched out, and Moist the only witness to this terrible tableau. It was like a strange game of high-speed chess unfolding before his eyes.
And then, suddenly, his legs took off from under him and he ran and ran, too breathless to shout, towards the two children who had hunkered down with their ears pressed against the rails, giggling because the vibrations were at times funny and bouncy and loud and …
RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!
And … gone …
Moist woke up, which could be interpreted as a good thing. First time round, Iron Girder was over him and he was dead, but his next careful waking was in a white room that smelled of camphor wood and other disinfectants, sharp and reassuring smells: tangible proof that he had a nose at least, because he couldn’t really feel anything else.
After a while subtle little noises grew into louder ones, coming closer and forming words, loudly reassuring and somewhat hearty words that crystallized into an individual in a white coat saying, ‘Well, madam, he keeps going up and down, but with fewer downs and a welcoming parade of ups. He’s getting more stable all the time and nothing’s broken, although he’s ruined a decent pair of boots — and, may I say, madam, that even here in the hospital there are already people organizing a whipround to replace them.’
Moist made a mighty heave, fought his way out of unconsciousness and arrived back in the here and now — a place where everything hurt. On the plus side, Adora Belle was looking at him, while looming behind her, in a white coat, was a large and expansive man of a sort that had played many rough competitive games when he was younger and wished he could do so now, if only the belly were smaller and the limbs willing.
Moist’s wife was regarding her husband carefully, as if checking that all the bits were there in their rightful places, at which point the doctor grabbed his hand and boomed, ‘Somebody up there must be watching over you, Mister Lipwig. How do you feel? As your physician I must tell you that jumping in front of railway trains is not recommended by medical practitioners, but acts of mindlessly idiotic bravery most certainly are, and can be applauded!’
37
Even Professor Rincewind, who spent most of the journey hiding under his seat in the firm belief that locomotion was exactly the kind of thing that usually led to certain death, conceded that trains could come in very handy when one wanted to get somewhere, or, more importantly,