It said: I’m out of options. Please yourself.
Rincewind stood up and brushed the dust and ash off his robe, removing quite a lot of the moulting red plush as well. He removed his hat, made a preoccupied attempt at straightening the point, and replaced it on his head.
Then he walked unsteadily towards the Tower of Art.
There was a very old and quite small door at the base. He wasn’t at all surprised when it opened as he approached.
‘Strange place,’ said Nijel. ‘Funny curve to the walls.’
‘Where are we?’ said Conina.
‘And is there any alcohol?’ said Creosote. ‘Probably not,’ he added.
‘And why is it rocking?’ said Conina. ‘I’ve never been anywhere with metal walls before.’ She sniffed. ‘Can you smell oil?’ she added, suspiciously.
The genie reappeared, although this time without the smoke and erratic trapdoor effects. It was noticeable that he tried to keep as far away from Conina as politely possible.
‘Everyone okay?’ he said.
‘Is this Ankh?’ she said. ‘Only when we wanted to go there, we rather hoped you’d put us somewhere with a door.’
‘You’re on your way,’ said the genie.
‘In what?’
Something about the way in which the spirit hesitated caused Nijel’s mind to leap a tall conclusion from a standing start. He looked down at the lamp in his hands.
He gave it an experimental jerk. The floor shook.
‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘It’s physically impossible.’
‘We’re in the lamp?’ said Conina.
The room trembled again as Nijel tried to look down the spout.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said the genie. ‘In fact, don’t think about it if possible.’
He explained - although ‘explained’ is probably too positive a word, and in this case really means failed to explain but at some length - that it was perfectly possible to travel across the world in a small lamp being carried by one of the party, the lamp itself moving because it was being carried by one of the people inside it,
because of a) the fractal nature of reality, which meant that everything could be thought of as being inside everything else and b) creative public relations. The trick relied on the laws of physics failing to spot the flaw until the journey was complete.
‘In the circumstances it is best not to think about it, yuh?’ said the genie.
‘Like not thinking about pink rhinoceroses,’ said Nijel, and gave an embarrassed laugh as they stared at him.
‘It was a sort of game we had,’ he said. ‘You had to avoid thinking of pink rhinoceroses.’ He coughed. ‘I didn’t say it was a particularly good game.’
He squinted down the spout again.
‘No,’ said Conina, ‘not very.’
‘Uh,’ said the genie, ‘Would anyone like coffee? Some sounds? A quick game of Significant Quest?’[23]
‘Drink?’ said Creosote.
‘White wine?’
‘Foul muck.’