'And if we want any more it's five times the old price,' said Goodmountain, coming up. 'The Engravers are buying it up. Supply and demand, King says.'
'King?' William's brow wrinkled. 'You mean Mr King?'
'Yeah, King of the Golden River,' said the dwarf. 'And, yeah, we could just about pay that but if them across the road are going to sell their sheet for 2p we'll be working for practically nothing.'
'Otto told the man from the Guild that he'd break his pledge if he saw him here again,' said Sacharissa. 'He was very angry because the man was angling to find out how he was taking printable iconographs.'
'What about you?'
'I'm staying. I don't trust them, especially when they're so sneaky. They seemed very... low-class people,' said Sacharissa. 'But what are we going to do?'
William bit his thumbnail and stared at his desk. When he moved his feet a boot fetched up against the money chest with a reassuring thud.
'We could cut down a bit, I daresay,' said Goodmountain.
'Yes, but then people won't buy the paper,' said Sacharissa. 'And they ought to buy our paper, because it's got real news in it.'
The news in the Inquirer looks more interesting, I have to admit,' said Goodmountain.
That's because it doesn't actually have to have any facts in it!' she snapped. 'Now, I don't mind going back to a dollar a day and Otto says he'd work for half a dollar if he can go on living in the cellar.'
William was still staring at nothing. 'Apart from the truth,' he said in a distant voice, 'what have we got that the Guild hasn't got? Can we print faster?'
'One press against three? No,' said Goodmountain. 'But I bet we can set type faster.'
'And that means... ?'
'We can probably beat them in getting the first paper on to the street.'
'O-kay. That might help. Sacharissa, do you know anyone who wants a job?'
'Know? Haven't you been looking at the letters?'
'Not as such
'Lots of people want a job! This is Ankh-Morpork!'
'All right, find the three letters with the fewest spelling mistakes and send Rocky round to hire the writers.'
'One of them was Mr Bendy,' Sacharissa warned. 'He wants more work. Not many interesting people are dying. Did you know he attends meetings for fun and very carefully writes down everything that's said?'
'Does he do it accurately?'
'I'm sure he does. He's exactly that sort of person. But I don't think we've got the space--'
Tomorrow morning we'll go to four pages. Don't look like that. I've got more stuff about Vetinari, and we've got, oh, twelve hours to get some paper,'
'I told you, King won't sell us any more paper at a decent price,' said Goodmountain.
There's a story right there, then,' said William.
'I mean--'
'Yes, I know. I've got some stuff to write, and then you and I will go to see him. Oh, and send someone to the semaphore tower, will you? I want to send a clacks to the King of Lancre. I think I met him once.'
'Clacks cost money. Lots of money.'
'Do it anyway. We'll find the money somehow,' William leaned over towards the cellar ladder. 'Otto?'