Men at Arms (Discworld #15)(63)

A very large tunnel, almost blocked with debris and silt, led off in what Cuddy was pretty sure was the direction of the estuary.

It was almost pleasant. There was no smell, other than a damp, under-a-stone mustiness. And it was cool.

'I've seen big dwarf halls in the mountains,' said Cuddy, 'but I've got to admit this is something else.' His voice echoed back and forth in the chamber.

'Oh, yes,' said Detritus, 'it's got to be something else, because it's not a dwarf hall in the mountains.'

'Can you see any way up?'

'No.'

'We could have passed a dozen ways to the surface and not known it.'

'Yes,' said the troll. 'It's a knotty problem.'

'Detritus?'

'Yes?'

'Did you know you're getting smarter again, down here in the cool?'

'Really?'

'Can you use it to think of a way out?'

'Digging?' the troll suggested.

There were fallen blocks here and there in the tunnels. Not many; the place had been well built . . .

'Nah. Haven't got a shovel,' said Cuddy.

Detritus nodded.

'Give me your breastplate,' he said.

He leaned it up against the wall. His fist pounded into it a few times. He handed it back. It was, more or less, shovel shaped.

'It's a long way up,' Cuddy said doubtfully.

'But we know the way,' said Detritus. 'It's either that, or stay down here eating rat for rest of your life.'

Cuddy hesitated. The idea had a certain appeal. . .

'Without ketchup,' Detritus added.

'I think I saw a fallen stone just a way back there,' said the dwarf.

Captain Quirke looked around the Watch room with the air of one who was doing the scenery a favour by glancing at it.

'Nice place, this,' he said. 'I think we'll move in here. Better than the quarters near the Palace.'

'But we're here,' said Sergeant Colon.

'You'll just have to squash up,' said Captain Quirke.

He glanced at Angua. Her stare was getting on his nerves.

'There'll be a few changes, too,' he said. Behind him, the door creaked open. A small, smelly dog limped in.

'But Lord Vetinari hasn't said who's commanding Night Watch,' said Carrot.

'Ho, yes? Seems to me, seems to me,' said Quirke, 'that it's not likely to be one of you lot, eh? Seems to me it's likely the Watches'll be combined. Seems to me there's too much sloppiness around the place. Seems to me there's a bit too much of a ragtag.'

He glanced at Angua again. The way she was looking at him was putting him off.

'Seems to me—' Quirke began again, and then noticed the dog. 'Look at this!' he said. 'Dogs in the Watch House!' He kicked Gaspode hard, and grinned as the dog ran yelping under the table.

'What about Lettice Knibbs, the beggar girl?' said Angua. 'No troll killed her. Or the clown.'

'You got to see the big picture,' said Quirke.

'Mister Captain,' said a low voice from under the table, audible at a conscious level only to Angua, 'you got an itchy bottom.'

'What big picture's this, then?' said Sergeant Colon.

'Got to think in terms of the whole city,' said Quirke. He shifted uneasily.

'Really itchy,' said the sub-table voice.

'You feeling all right, Captain Quirke?' said Angua.

The captain squirmed.

Trickle, prickle, prickle,' said the voice.

'I mean, some things are important, some ain't,' said Quirke. 'Aargh!'

'Sorry?'

Trickle.'

'Can't hang around here talking to you all day,' said Quirke. 'You. Report to me. Tomorrow afternoon—'

Trickle, prickle, prickle—'

'Abouuut face!'

The Day Watch scurried out, with Quirke hopping and squirming in, as it were, the rear.

'My word, he seemed anxious to get away,' said Carrot.

'Yes,' said Angua. 'Can't think why.'

They looked at one another.

'Is that it?' said Carrot. 'No more Night Watch?'

It's generally very quiet in the Unseen University library. There's perhaps the shuffling of feet as wizards wander between the shelves, the occasional hacking cough to disturb the academic silence, and every once in a while a dying scream as an unwary student fails to treat an old magical book with the caution it deserves.

Consider orang-utans.

In all the worlds graced by their presence, it is suspected that they can talk but choose not to do so in case humans put them to work, possibly in the television industry. In fact they can talk. It's just that they talk in Otang-utan. Humans are only capable of listening in Bewilderment.

The Librarian of Unseen University had unilaterally decided to aid comprehension by producing ar.

Orang-utan/Human Dictionary. He'd been working on it for three months.

It wasn't easy. He'd got as far as 'Oook.'[23]

He was down in the Stacks, where it was cool.

And suddenly someone was singing.

He took the pen out of his foot and listened.

A human would have decided they couldn't believe their ears. Orangs are more sensible. If you won't believe your own ears, whose ears will you believe?