Making Money (Discworld 36) - Page 275

'They arc perfect, Mr Spools!'

'Anything but. But it's kind of you to say so. We've done seventy thousand so far.'

'Nothing like enough!'

'With respect, we are not printing a newspaper here. But we're getting better. You have talked about other denominations... ?'

'Oh, yes. Two, five and ten dollars to start with. And the fives and tens will talk.'

Nothing like enough, he thought, as the colours of money flowed through his fingers. People will queue up for this. They won't want the grubby, heavy coins, not when they see this! Backed by golems! What is a coin compared to the hand that holds it? That's worth! That's value! Hm, yes, that'd look good on the two-dollar note, too, I'd better remember that.

'The money... will talk?' said Mr Spools carefully.

'Imps,' said Moist. 'They're only a sort of intelligent spell. They don't even have to have a shape. We'll print them on the higher denominations.'

'Do you think the university will agree to that?' said Spools.

'Yes, because I'm going to put Ridcully's head on the five-dollar note. I'll go and talk to Ponder Stibbons. This looks like a job for inadvisably applied magic if ever I saw one.'

'And what would the money say?'

'Anything we want it to. "Is your purchase really necessary?" perhaps, or "Why not save me for a rainy day?" The possibilities are endless!'

'It usually says goodbye to me,' said a printer, to ritual amusement.

'Well, maybe we can make it blow you a kiss as well,' said Moist. He turned to the Men of the Sheds, who were beaming and gleaming with new-found importance. 'Now, if some of you gentlemen will help me carry this lot into the bank...'

The hands of the clock were chasing one another to the top of the hour when Moist arrived, and there was still no sign of Mr Bent.

'Is that clock right?' said Moist, as the hands began the relaxing stroll to the half-hour.

'Oh yes, sir,' said a counter clerk. 'Mr Bent sets it twice a day.'

'Maybe, but he hasn't been here for more than - '

The doors swung open, and there he was. Moist had for some reason expected the clown outfit, but this was the smooth and shiny, ironed-in-his-clothes Bent with the smart jacket and pinstripe trousers and-

-the red nose. And he was arm in arm with Miss Drapes.

The staff stared at it all, too shocked for a reaction.

'Ladies and gentlemen,' said Bent, his voice echoing in the sudden silence, 'I owe so many apologies. I have made many mistakes. Indeed, my whole life has been a mistake. I believed that true worth lodged in lumps of metal. Much of what I believed is worthless, in fact, but Mr Lipwig believed in me and so I am here today. Let us make money based not on a trick of geology but on the ingenuity of hand and brain. And now - ' He paused, because Miss Drapes had squeezed his arm.

'Oh, yes, how could I forget?' Bent went on. 'What I do now believe with all my heart is that Miss Drapes will marry me in the Chapel of Fun in the Fools' Guild on Saturday, the ceremony to be conducted by the Reverend Brother "Whacko" Whopply. You are all of course invited - '

' - but be careful what you wear because it's a whitewash wedding,' said Miss Drapes coyly, or what she probably thought was coyly.

'And with that it only remains for me to - ' Bent tried to continue, but the staff had realized what their ears had heard, and closed in on the couple, the women drawn to the soon-not-to-be-Miss Drapes by the legendarily high gravity of an engagement ring, while the men went from slapping Mr Bent on the back to the unthinkable, which involved picking him up and carrying him around the room on their shoulders.

Eventually it was Moist who had to cup his hands and shout: 'Look at the time, ladies and gentlemen! Our customers are waiting, ladies and gentlemen! Let us not stand in the way of making money! We mustn't be a dam in the economic flow!'

... and he wondered what Hubert was doing now...

With his tongue out in concentration, Igor removed a slim tube from the gurgling bowels of the Glooper.

A few bubbles zigzagged to the top of the central hydro unit and burst on the surface with a gloop.

Hubert breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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