Making Money (Discworld 36) - Page 142

'Would that it were that simple,' said Ponder, politely taking it from her, 'but, you see, if a Curiosity is taken away from the Cabinet Room for more than fourteen hours and fourteen seconds, the Cabinet stops working. Last time it took us three months to restart it. But you can drop in at any time to, er, check that we're not mistreating it.'

Moist laid a hand on Adora Belle's arm to forestall an Incident.

'She's very passionate about golems,' he said. 'The Trust digs them up all the time.'

'That's very commendable,' said Ponder. 'I'll talk to Dr Hicks. He's the head of the Department of Post-Mortem Communications.'

'Post-Mortem Com - ' Moist began. 'Isn't that the same as necroman - '

'I said the Department of Post-Mortem Communications! said Ponder very firmly. 'I suggest you come back at three o'clock.'

'Did anything about that conversation strike you as normal?' said Moist, as they stepped out into the sunlight.

'Actually, I thought it went very well,' said Adora Belle.

'This wasn't how I imagined your homecoming,' said Moist. 'Why the rush? Is there some problem?'

'Look, we found four golems at the dig,' said Adora Belle.

'That's... good, yes?' said Moist.

'Yes! And you know how deep they were?'

'I couldn't guess.'

'Guess!'

'I don't know!' said Moist, bewildered at suddenly having to play 'What's My Depth?'. 'Two hundred feet down? That's more tha - '

'Half a mile underground.'

'Impossible! That's deeper than coal!'

'Keep it down, will you? Look, is there somewhere we can go and talk?'

'How about  -  the Royal Bank of Ankh-Morpork? There's a private dining room.'

And they'll let us eat there, will they?'

'Oh yes. The chairman is a great friend of mine,' said Moist.

'He is, is he?'

'He certainly is,' said Moist. 'Why, only this morning he licked my face!'

Adora Belle stopped and turned to stare at him. 'Really?' she said. 'Then it's just as well I got back when I did.' reak  -  The prospect of the kidney sandwich  -  The barber-surgeon's knock  -  Suicide by paint, inadvisability of  -  Angels at one remove  -  Igor goes shopping  -  The use of understudies at a hanging, reflections on  -  Places suitable for putting a head  -  Moist awaits the sunshine  -  Tricks with your brain  -  'We're going to need some bigger notes'  -  Fun with root vegetables  -  The lure of clipboards  -  The impossible cabinet

ON THE ROOF OF the Tanty, the city's oldest jail, Moist was more than moist. He'd reached the point where he was so wet that he should be approaching dryness from the other end.

With care, he lifted the last of the oil lamps from the little semaphore tower on the flat roof, and tossed its contents into the howling night. They had been only half full in any case. It was amazing that anyone had even bothered to light them on a night like this.

He felt his way back to the edge of the roof and located his grapnel, moving it gently around the stern crenellation and then letting out more rope to lower it down to the invisible ground. Now he had the rope around the big stone bulk he slid down holding on to both lengths and pulled the rope down after him. He stashed both grapnel and rope among the debris in an alley; they would be stolen within an hour or so.

Right, then. Now for it...

The Watch armour he'd lifted from the bank's locker room fitted like a glove. He'd have preferred it to fit like a helmet and breastplate. But in truth it probably didn't look any better on its owner, currently swanking along the corridors in the bank's own shiny but impractical armour. It was common knowledge that the Watch's approach to uniforms was one-size-doesn't-exactly-fit-anybody, and that Commander Vimes disapproved of armour that didn't have that kicked-by-trolls look. He liked armour to state clearly that it had been doing its job.

Moist took some time to get his breath back, and then walked round to the big black door and rang the bell. The mechanism rattled and clanked. They wouldn't rush, not on a night like this.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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