'So it's all going well, then?' said Ridcully, in a kind of mystified voice.
'Apparently so, sir.'
'Well, I suppose I'd better leave it alone,' said Ridcully. He hesitated, feeling at a bit of a loose end, and found another thread to pull. 'And how are those rules coming along, Mister Stibbons?'
'Oh, quite well, thank you, Archchancellor. I'm keeping in some of the ones from the street game, of course, to keep everybody happy. Some of them are quite strange.'
'Mister Nutt is quite a decent chap, it appears.'
'Oh yes, Archchancellor.'
'Very good idea of his to redesign the goal, I thought. Makes it more fun.'
'Aren't you going to train, sir?' said Ponder, pulling another document towards him.
'I am the captain! I do not need to train.' Ridcully turned to leave and stopped with his hand on the doorknob. 'Had a long chat with the former Dean last night. Decent soul at heart, of course,' he said.
'Yes, I understand the atmosphere in the Uncommon Room was very convivial, Archchancellor,' said Ponder. And expensive, he added to himself.
'You know young Adrian Turnipseed is a professor?'
'Oh, yes, Archchancellor.'
'You wanna be one?'
'Not really, Archchancellor. I think there should be one or two posts in this institution that I don't hold.'
'Yes, but they've just called their machine Pex! Hardly a great leap of ingenuity, is it?'
'Oh, there are some significant differences. I believe he's using chickens to generate the blit diametric,' said Ponder.
'Apparently so,' said Ridcully. 'Something like that, anyway.'
'Hmmm,' said Ponder. And it was quite a solid hmmm, possibly one you could moor a small boat to.
'Something wrong?' said Ridcully.
'Oh, er, not really, Archchancellor. Did the former Dean mention anything about the need to totally rebuild the morphic resonator to allow for the necessary changes in the blit/slood interface?'
'Shouldn't think so,' said Ridcully.
'Oh,' said Ponder, his face blank. 'Well, Adrian is bound to get round to that. He is very clever.'
'Yes, but it was all based on your work. You built Hex. And now they're putting out that he's some big clever clogs. He's even on a cigarette card.'
'That's nice, sir. It's good when researchers get recognition.'
Ridcully felt like a mosquito that was trying to sting a steel breastplate. 'Hah, wizardry has certainly changed since my day,' he said.
'Yes, sir,' said Ponder noncommittally.
'And by the way, Mister Stibbons,' said Ridcully as he opened the door, 'my day isn't over yet.' ;Have you been hit on the head with something?' said Stronginthearm. 'Because, if so, I'd like it to drop on me.'
'Well, it's spreading the dream, isn't it?' said Glenda, carefully arranging the samples in her suitcase. 'It's a bit more important than I thought.'
She made fourteen more successful calls before calling it a day, posted the orders through Stronginthearm's letterbox and, with a light case and uncharacteristically light heart, went back to work.
Ridcully turned the corner and there, right in front of him, was... His mind spun as it sought for the correct mode of address: 'Archchancellor' was out of the question, 'Dean' too obvious an insult, 'Two Chairs' ditto with knobs on, and 'ungrateful, backstabbing, slimy bastard' took too long to say. What the hell was the bastard's name? Great heavens, they'd been friends since their first day at UU... 'Henry!' he exploded. 'What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here to our miserable and sadly out-of-date little university?'