Thief of Time (Discworld 26) - Page 77

'Look, I might not be one of the Fearsome Four, but I do keep my eyes and ears open,' said Ronnie. 'But that's the end of the world!'

'No, it's not,' said Ronnie calmly. 'Everything's still here.'

'But it's not going anywhere!'

'Oh, well, that's not my problem, is it?' said Ronnie. 'I do milk and dairy products.' Lu-Tze looked around the sparkling dairy, at the glistening bottles, at the gleaming churns. What a job for a timeless person. The milk would always be fresh. He looked back at the bottles, and an unbidden thought rose in his mind. The Horsemen were people-shaped, and people are vain. Knowing how to use other people's vanity was a martial art all in itself, and Lu-Tze had been doing it for a long time. 'I bet I can work out who you were,' he said. 'I bet I can work out your real name.'

'Hah. Not a chance, monk,' said Ronnie. 'Not a monk, just a sweeper,' said Lu-Tze calmly. 'Just a sweeper. You called them the Law, Ronnie. There's got to be a law, right? They make the rules, Ronnie. And you've got to have rules, isn't that true?'

'I do milk and milk products,' said Ronnie, but a muscle twitched under his eye. 'Also eggs by arrangement. It's a good steady business. I'm thinking of taking on more staff for the shop.'

'Why?' said Lu-Tze. 'There won't be anything for them to do.'

'And expand the cheese side,' said Ronnie, not looking at the sweeper. 'Big market for cheese. And I thought maybe I could get a c-mail address, people could send in orders, it could be a big market.'

'All the rules have won, Ronnie. Nothing moves any more. Nothing is unexpected because nothing happens.' Ronnie sat staring at nothing. 'I can see you've found your niche, then, Ronnie,' said Lu-Tze soothingly. 'And you keep this place like a new pin, there's no doubt about it. I expect the rest of the lads'd be really pleased to know that you're, you know, getting on all right. Just one thing, uh ... Why did you rescue me?'

hopped her head off!'

'Don't shout! And keep your head down!' Susan hissed. 'But he-'

'I think she knows! Anyway, it's an it. And so's it.'

'What's going on?' Susan drew back into the shadows. 'I'm not... entirely sure,' she said, 'but I think they've tried to make themselves human bodies. Pretty good copies, too. And now... they're acting human.'

'Do you call that acting human?' Susan gave Lobsang a sad look. 'You don't get out much, do you? My grandfather says that if an intelligent creature takes a human shape, it starts to think human. Form defines function.'

'That was the action of an intelligent creature?' said Lobsang, still shocked. 'Not only doesn't get out much, also doesn't read history,' said Susan glumly. 'Do you know about the curse of the werewolves?'

'Isn't being a werewolf curse enough?'

'They don't think so. But if they stay wolf-shaped for too long, they stay a wolf,' said Susan. 'A wolf is a very strong... form, you see? Even though the mind is human, the wolf creeps in through the nose and the ears and the paws. Know about witches?'

'We, er, stole the broomstick of one of them to get here,' said Lobsang. 'Really? Bit of luck for you that the world's ended, then,' said Susan. 'Anyway, some of the best witches have this trick they call Borrowing. They can get into the mind of an animal. Very useful. But the trick is to know when to pull out. Be a duck for too long and a duck you'll stay. A bright duck, maybe, with some odd memories, but still a duck.'

'The poet Hoha once dreamed he was a butterfly, and then he awoke and said, “Am I a man who dreamed he was a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming he is a man?”' said Lobsang, trying to join in. 'Really?' said Susan briskly. 'And which was he?'

'What? Well... who knows?'

'How did he write his poems?' said Susan. 'With a brush, of course.'

'He didn't flap around making information-rich patterns in the air or laying eggs on cabbage leaves?'

'No one ever mentioned it.'

'Then he was probably a man,' said Susan. 'Interesting, but it doesn't move us on a lot. Except you could say that the Auditors are dreaming that they're human, and the dream is real. And they've got no imagination. Just like my grandfather, really. They can create a perfect copy of anything, but they can't make anything that's new. So what I think is happening is that they're finding out what being human really means.'

'Which is?'

'That you're not as much in control as you think.' She took another careful look at the crowd in the square. 'Do you know anything about the person who built the clock?'

'Me? No. Well, not really...'

'Then how did you find the place?'

'Lu-Tze thought this was where the clock was being built.'

'Really? Not a bad guess. You even got the right house.'

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024