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Going Postal A Novel of Discworld ® Terry Pratchett Contents The Nine-Thousand-Year Prologue The One-Month Prologue Chapter 1 The Angel Chapter 2 The Post Office Chapter 3 Our Own Hand, Or None Chapter 4 A Sign Chapter 5 Lost in the Post Chapter 6 Little Pictures Chapter 7 Tomb of Words Chapter 7A Post Haste Chapter 9 ... |
Wilkinson?” “Only the last bloke we had in this cell, he managed to get down that drain, sir. Very small man. Very agile. ” Moist looked at the little grid in the floor. He’d dismissed it out of hand. “Does it lead to the river?” he said. The warden grinned. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? He was really upset when we fi... |
“He says to get on with it, it’s long past dawn!” said the clerk. “Oh,” said Moist, staring at the black coach. That damn Vetinari had a warder’s sense of humor, too. “Come on , Mr. Spangler, you don’t want me to get into trouble, do you?” said the hangman, patting him on the shoulder. “Just a few words, and then we ca... |
“Your correct name, if you please,” said Lord Vetinari, not looking up from his desk. “What name did he sign, Drumknott?” The clerk craned his head. “Er…Ethel Snake, my lord, as far as I can make out. ” “ Do try to concentrate, Mr. Lipwig,” said Vetinari wearily, still apparently reading the paperwork. Moist signed aga... |
He looked down and kicked some straw away. There was a bright yellow bar, joining two short lengths of chain with a yellow shackle attached, one for each leg. The only way this horse would go anywhere was by hopping, just like him. They’d clamped it. They’d bloody clamped it… “Oh, Mr. Lipppppwig!” the voice boomed out ... |
“Remember? The first interesting thing about angels? I told you yesterday? I expect you were thinking about something else. The second interesting thing about angels, Mr. Lipwig, is that you only ever get one. ” CHAPTER 2 The Post Office In which we meet the staff • Glom of Nit • Dissertation on rhyming slang • “You sh... |
At one end was a monstrous oven, which, Moist learned later, had once been part of some kind of heating system, the Post Office having been a very advanced building for its time. Now a small round stove, glowing almost cherry-red at the base, had been installed alongside it. There was a huge black kettle on it. The air... |
He decided that the role of keen but bewildered manager was the one to play here. Besides, apart from the “keen” aspect, it didn’t need any effort. “Can you help me, Mr. Groat?” he said. “I don’t know anything about the post!” “Well, sir…what did you used to do?” Rob. Trick. Forge. Embezzle. But never—and this was impo... |
Then he started to cough, great, hacking, wooden, crackling lumps of cough that made the jars shake and caused a yellow mist to rise from his trouser bottoms. “’Scuse me a moment, sir,” he wheezed between hacks, and fumbled in his pocket for a scratched and battered tin. “You suck at all, sir?” he said, tears rolling d... |
For Two Hundred And Forty Years, Mr. Lipvig. But Now I Am Ambulating In The Sunlight. This Is Better, Mr. Lipvig. This Is Better!” T HAT NIGHT , Moist lay staring at the ceiling. It was three feet from him. Hanging from it, a little distance away, was a candle in a safety lantern. Stanley had been insistent about that,... |
Off a fig tree. ” “Har har, the joke’s on them, there’s no fig trees round here!” said Stanley in the manner of one exposing the flaw in a long-held dogma. “Yes, lad, very good, but it was a tin one anyway,” said Groat with patience. “And the wings?” said the boy. “We-ell, I ’spose they thought that the more wings the ... |
” He found Total Pins on the bottom rack. It had a smudgy, home-produced look, and the print was small and dense and lacked such subtleties as paragraphs and, in many cases, punctuation. The common comma had looked at Stanley’s expression and decided not to disturb him. When Moist put the little magazine onto the count... |
He’d never really liked doing this, but what else could he have done? Stanley ate like a bird and Groat mostly got by on tea and biscuits, but it all cost money, even if you went round the markets just as they closed up, and somewhere in the past, decades ago, the pay had stopped arriving. Groat had been too frightened... |
“Lipwig, small town in Near Uberwald,” she said, picking up a brick from the broken glass and debris on her desk, regarding it critically, and then turning to the ancient filing cabinet behind her and filing it under B. “Chief export: its famous dogs, of course. Second most important export: its beer, except during the... |
There’s…hints, here and there, but really we need something more solid…” “There will be an opportunity,” said Vetinari. Being an absolute ruler today was not as simple as people thought. At least, it was not simple if your ambitions included being an absolute ruler tomorrow. There were subtleties. Oh, you could order m... |
Slant,” said Vetinari, “merely mentioning to you the existence of a rumor is not actionable, as I am sure you are aware. ” “There is no proof that we had anything to do with the boy’s murder,” snapped Horsefry. “Ah, so you too have heard people saying he was murdered?” said Vetinari, his eyes on Reacher Gilt’s face. “T... |
” As they stood up, Reacher Gilt leaned across the table and said: “May I congratulate you, my lord?” “I am delighted that you feel inclined to congratulate me on anything, Mr. Gilt,” said Vetinari. “To what do we owe this unique occurrence?” “This, my lord,” said Gilt, gesturing to the little side table on which had b... |
I heard that they can do some nasty things when they’ve a mind. ” “I thought you called them penpushers?” “Yeah, but I didn’t say where, heehee. ” Groat caught Moist’s expression and coughed. “Sorry, didn’t mean it, just my little joke. We reckon the last new postmaster we had, Mr. Whobblebury, he was a dark clerk. Can... |
That was why Vetinari had put him here. He needed a man who couldn’t walk away, and who was incidentally completely expendable. It didn’t matter if Moist von Lipwig died. He was already dead. And then he tried not to think about Mr. Pump. How many other golems had worked their way to freedom in the service of the city?... |
People in Ankh-Morpork always paid attention to people on rooftops, in case there was a chance of an interesting suicide. There was a cheer, just on general principles, when the last letter was hammered back into place. Four dead men , Moist thought, looking up at the roof. I wonder if the Watch would talk to me? Do th... |
“You daft old woman!” Groat yelled. “What did you have to tell him that for?” “Mr. Groat!” snapped Moist. “I wish to speak to you inside!” He grabbed the old man by the shoulder and very nearly carried him through the amused crowd, dragged him into the building and slammed the door. “I’ve had enough of this!” he said. ... |
Now Tower 181 did maintenance on the fly or not at all, just like all the others, but it was still, proverbially, a good tower to man. Mostly man, anyway. Back down on the plains it was a standing joke that 181 was staffed by vampires and werewolves. In fact, like a lot of towers, it was often manned by kids. Everyone ... |
Had the letter, saw the address, delivered it, just like that! Maybe he has got postman’s blood! And he got them metal letters put back! Letters again, see? That’s a sign, sure enough. Hah, he can read words that ain’t there!” Groat spat out a fragment of fingernail, and frowned. “But…then he’ll want to know about the ... |
Things were moved in my study! I’m worried, Reacher! I’m the one who stands to lose here! If there’s an audit—” “You know there won’t be, Crispin. ” Gilt’s voice was like honey. “Yes, but I can’t get my hands on all the paperwork, not yet, not until old Cheeseborough retires. And Vetinari’s got lots of little, you know... |
He’d never spotted a staircase to the roof, but then, who knew what was hidden behind some pile of letters at the end of some blocked corridor… He squeezed his way along yet another passage lined with mail sacks, and came out into a space where big, bolted double doors led back to the yard. There were stairs there, lea... |
Of course, you’d have to be mad to believe it, but this was the Post Office. Poor Mr. Sideburn had stepped out onto a floor that wasn’t there anymore. Moist stopped before stepping out onto the balcony, reached down, and felt the chill on his fingertips once again as they went through the carpet. Who was it—oh, yes, Mr... |
He said, as much to himself as for the benefit of the golem, “It’s as though they want to be…read. ” “That Is The Function Of A Letter,” said Pump calmly. “You Will See That I Have Almost Cleared Your Apartment. ” “Listen, they’re just paper! And they talked !” “Yes,” rumbled the golem ponderously. “This Place Is A Tom... |
” “Look,” said Moist, “all that stuff…that was just to scare me, right?” “You leave it to me, sir,” Groat whispered. “But listen, the—” Moist began, and had a mouthful of hood. “Let him don the Boots!” the voice went on. Amazing how you can hear the capital letters , Moist thought, trying not to choke on the cloth. “Pa... |
It ripped as though cut by shears. “Postmen, what is the Third Oath?” shouted Groat triumphantly. “All together, lads: Strewth, what do they make these flaps out of, razor blades? ” There was a resentful silence. “He never had ’is ’ood on,” muttered a robed figure. “Yes he did! He wrapped it round his hand! Tell me whe... |
And perhaps some new shoes…” The doors swung open to reveal not the return of the dogs but Mr. Pump again. He picked up the box he’d left and headed on toward Moist. “Well, we’ll be off,” said the Worshipful Master. “Nice to have met you, Mr. Moist. ” “That’s it?” said Moist. “Isn’t there a ceremony or something?” “Oh,... |
“And The Statue Of The God, Sir. That Impressed Them Even More, I Would Say, Because Apparently It Was Melted Down Many Years Ago. ” “Did I do anything last night that suggested I was sane ?” “I Am Sorry, Sir?” said the golem. But Moist remembered the light, and the whispering of the mail. It’d filled his mind with…kno... |
“It’s the curse of the Post Office, sir. It had imps in it for the actual reading of the envelopes, but they all evaporated years ago. Just as well, too. ” Moist’s gaze took in the wire racks that occupied a whole wall of the big room. It also found the chalk outlines on the floor. The chalk glowed in the strange light... |
Sometimes they were letters that hadn’t been written, or might have been written, or were meant to have been written, or letters that people had once sworn that they had written and hadn’t really, but which nevertheless had a shadowy existence in some strange, invisible letter world and were made real by the machine. I... |
“We’ll…we’ll do things that are quite new, in interestin’ ways!” “You’re getting the hang of it already,” said Moist, rolling his eyes. T EN MINUTES LATER , the Post Office received its first delivery. It was Senior Postman Bates, blood streaming down his face. He was helped into the office by two Watch officers, carry... |
You could get away with bad penmanship much easier than you could with bad paper. In fact, rough penmanship often worked better than a week of industrious midnights spent getting every little thing right, because there was something in people’s heads that spotted some little detail that wasn’t quite right but at the sa... |
A voice behind him said: The Postman came down like a wolf on the fold , His cohorts all gleaming in azure and gold… Just for a moment, a flicker of time, Moist thought: I’ve been made, she knows. Somehow, she knows. Then his brain took over. He turned to Miss Dearheart. “When I was a kid, I always thought that a cohor... |
“I don’t need perfect, I want quick. ” “My word, you’re quick off the mark, Mr. Lipwig!” “Always move fast, Mr. Spools, you never know who’s catching up!” “Hah! Yes! Er…good motto, Mr. Lipwig. Nice one,” said Mr. Spools, grinning uncertainly. “And I want the five-pennies and one-dollars the day after, please. ” “You’ll... |
“ He doesn’t break down very easily. ” “Ah, yes. The golems. Some people say—” “What is your first name, Miss Cripslock?” said Moist. For a moment, the woman colored. Then she said: “It’s Sacharissa. ” “Thank you. I’m Moist. Please don’t laugh. The golems—you’re laughing, aren’t you…” “It was just a cough, honestly,” s... |
” “Practically?” Moist was pushed, firmly, into a large and complex swivel chair. His captor, or helper, or whatever he might turn out to be, gave him a reassuring smile. Other, shadowy figures helped him strap Moist into the chair, which, while basically an old, horseshoe-shaped one with a leather seat, was surrounded... |
“Oh, this isn’t him,” said the professor cheerfully, seeing Moist’s expression. “The housekeeper puts these little knitted wizard dolls in just to remind the kitchen staff that the jars shouldn’t be used for anything else. There was an incident with some peanut butter, I believe. I just have to take it out so that he d... |
” “I didn’t exactly say—” “In my experience, Miss Cripslock tends to write down exactly what one says,” Vetinari observed. “It’s a terrible thing when journalists do that. It spoils the fun. One feels instinctively that it’s cheating, somehow. And I gather you are selling promissory notes, too?” “What?” “The stamps , M... |
“And he’ll get me to Sto Lat, will he?” “Oh, at the very least, sir,” said Hobson. “Good horseman, are yer?” “When it comes to riding out of town, Mr. Hobson, there’s no one faster. ” “That’s good, sir, that’s good,” said Hobson, in the slow voice of someone carefully urging the prey toward the trap. “Boris does have a... |
Huge muscles bunched, and there was a long, slow, silent moment as he drifted over the cart. Hooves slid over the cobbles ahead of a trail of sparks when he landed again, but he recovered by sheer momentum and accelerated. The usual crowd around the Hubwards Gate scattered, and then, filling the horizon, there were the... |
“And it’s about time that clacks company was told what’s what! It was all fine up until a few months ago—I mean, they made you pay through the nose but at least stuff got where it was fast as a arrow, but now it’s all these breakdowns and repairs and they charge even more, mark you! And they never tell you how long we’... |
“Doing what? I mean, they don’t eat, so—” “Cleaning it, apparently ,” said Miss Maccalariat, contriving to suggest that she had dark suspicions on this point. “But I have heard them referred to as ‘Mister. ’” “Well, they do odd jobs all the time, because they don’t like to stop working,” said Moist. “And we prefer to g... |
Spools is very sorry, sir, he says it may be some kind of induced magic. You know, sir? Like, even a picture of a wizards’ tower might be a bit magical itself? There’s a few faults on some of the others, too. The printing went wrong on some of the black penny ones, and Lord Vetinari’s got gray hair, sir. Some haven’t g... |
Presumably he was insane, by the usual human standards, but it was hard to tell; the phrase “differently normal” might do instead. After all, Gryle could probably defeat a vampire within ten seconds, and had none of a vampire’s vulnerabilities, except perhaps an inordinate fondness for pigeons. He’d been a real find. “... |
“Lost his temper, took a swing, I went over, hit my head on that old bench there, I got up not knowing where the hell I was, you tried to hold Jim back, he hit me with that chair, the one just there, and down I went for keeps, the golems got you, Harry, but Jim went on the run, only to be tracked down by the Watch in S... |
“And this is for me,” he added with rather more satisfaction. “Eh? Damn right!” And I thought the Post Office was full of crazy people , Moist thought. “Thank you,” he said, standing. Then he remembered the strange letter in his pocket, for whatever use it was, and added: “Have you got a coach stopping at Pseudopolis t... |
Fifteen points right there if you get it to flow just right. Oh, and remember we’ll have an Igor standing by, so if your arm gets taken off do pick it up and hit the other bugger with it, it gets a laugh and twenty points. On that subject, do remember what I said about getting everything tattooed with your name, all ri... |
But the clacks was still making huge amounts. Can you understand that? Reacher Gilt and his gang acted, oh yes, friendly, but were buying up the mortgages and controlling banks and moving numbers around and they pulled the Grand Trunk out from under us like thieves. All they want to do is make money. They don’t care ab... |
It’s a message to King Het of Thut from his astrologers on their holy mountain, telling him that the Goddess of the Sea was angry and what ceremonies he’d have to do to placate her. ” “Didn’t that slide into the sea anyway? I thought he said—” “Yeah, yeah, Anghammarad got there too late and was swept away by the feroci... |
As he screamed, she dragged the bewildered Moist away. “Water…we’ve got to get water…” He groaned. “They’re burning! They’re all burning!” CHAPTER 10 The Burning of Words In which Stanley remains calm • Moist the hero • Searching for a cat, never a good idea • Something in the dark • Mr. Gryle is encountered • Fire and... |
“My vord, if ve vant news, all ve have to do is follow you!” Moist ignored him and shouldered his way to Miss Dearheart, who, he noticed, was not beside herself with worry. “Is there a hospice in this city?” he said. “A decent doctor, even?” “There’s the Lady Sibyl Free Hospital,” said Miss Dearheart. “Is it any good?”... |
It meant that the banshee was tracking you. No good looking behind you. It was overhead. There weren’t many of the feral ones, even in Uberwald, but Moist knew the advice passed on by people who’d survived them. Keep away from the mouth, those teeth were vicious. Don’t attack the chest, the flight muscles there are lik... |
There’s no stink more sorrowful than the stink of wet, burned paper , Moist thought. It means: The end. “Vetinari won’t rebuild this place, you know,” Miss Dearheart went on. “Gilt will get people to make a fuss if he tries it. Waste of city funds. He’s got friends. People who owe him money and favors. He’s good at tha... |
These were the moments he lived for, when he was really alive, and his thoughts flowed like quicksilver, and the very air sparkled. Later, that feeling would present its bill. For now, he flew. He was back in the game. But, for now, by the light of the burning yesterdays, he waltzed with Miss Dearheart while the scratc... |
Aggy said the Post Office won’t ever be rebuilt! He says Lord Vetinari will never release the money! Oh, Mr. Lipwig! I dreamed all my life of working on the counter here! My grandmother taught me everything, she even made me practice sucking lemons to get the expression right! I’ve passed it all on to my daughter, too,... |
Lipwig, you were chatting to people outside your regrettably distressed building when”—here the Patrician glanced at his notes—“you suddenly looked up, shielded your eyes, dropped to your knees, and screamed, ‘Yes, yes, thank you, I am not worthy, glory be, may your teeth be picked clean by birds, hallelujah, rattle yo... |
Even Miss Extremelia Mume, whose small, multipurpose temple over a bookmakers’ office in Cable Street handled the worldly affairs of several dozen minor gods, was doing good business among those prepared to back an outside chance. She’d hung a banner over the door. It read: IT COULD BE YOU. It couldn’t happen. It shoul... |
Lipwig, there are times when we humble practitioners of the craft of medicine have to stand aside in astonishment. Quite a long way aside, in the case of Mr. Groat, and preferably behind a tree. Take him away, please. I have to say that, against all the odds, I found him amazingly healthy. I can quite see why an attack... |
” When Pony was gone, Greenyham said: “Do you know what worries me right now?” “Do tell us,” said Gilt, folding his hands across his expensive waistcoat. “Mr. Slant is not here. ” “He has apologized. He says he has important business,” said Gilt. “We’re his biggest clients! What’s more important than us? No, he’s not h... |
They’ll say to me: Reacher, we’re giving good old George everything he asks for, what will we be getting in return?” Forgetting for the moment that it was a quarter of what he’d asked for, good old George said: “Well, we could patch up all round and get some of the really shaky towers back into some sort of order, espe... |
This is just too impressive for words. There was a buzz of whispering and a few gasps. There were a lot of customers, too, even in the early foggy hours. It’s never too late for a prayer. “Is everything all right, Mr. Groat?” he called down. Something white was waved in the air. “Early copy of the Times , sir!” Groat s... |
He’d fallen asleep at his desk again; his mouth tasted as though Tiddles had slept in it. Behind Vetinari’s head, he could see Mr. Groat and Stanley, peering anxiously around the door. Lord Vetinari sat down opposite him, after dusting some ash off a chair. “You have read this morning’s Times ?” he said. “I was there w... |
” Moist heard all the words, but had to wait for them to make sense. “Pot?” he said at last. “You mean like a bet?” “Yes, sir. A big bet,” said Stanley happily. “About you racing the clacks to Genua. People think that’s funny. A lot of the bookmakers are offering odds, sir, so Mr. Groat is organizing it, sir! He said t... |
“No name need be mentioned,” said Gilt smoothly. “It’s just sloppy design,” said Pony. “I daresay one of the lads found it by accident and tried it again to see what happened. They’re like that, the tower boys. Show ’em a bit of cunning machinery and they’ll spend all day trying to make it fail. The whole Trunk’s a las... |
Anyone who can do the job, Miss Maccalariat. Our job is moving the mail. Morning, noon, and night, we deliver. Was there anything else?” Now there was a glint in her eye. “I don’t have any difficulties with anyone who speaks up about what they are, Mr. Lipwig, but I must protest about dwarfs. Mr. Groat is hiring them. ... |
It watched them from the corner with mad little eyes, its genes remembering the time it had been a giant reptile that could have taken these sons of monkeys to the cleaners in one mouthful. Bits of dismantled mechanisms were everywhere. “Miss Dearheart told you about me, did she?” said Moist. “She said you weren’t a co... |
But we can’t get it onto the Trunk. They’re on to us. ” “Supposing I could get it onto the Trunk?” said Moist, staring at the lights. The towers themselves were quite invisible now. “You? What do you know about clacks codes?” said Undecided Adrian. “I treasure my ignorance,” said Moist. “But I know about people. You th... |
Call him up right now and tell him what’s going on, will you?” “Yes, Archchancellor. In fact, I’ll leave it a few hours, because it’s still nighttime in Genua. ” “That’s only their opinion,” said Ridcully, sighting again. “Do it now, man. ” F IRE FROM THE SKY … Everyone knew that the top half of the towers rocked as th... |
A bit more graffiti had been added to the strata that now covered the boarded-up window. It was just above knee-level and said, in crayon, Golms are Made of poo. It was good to see the fine old traditions of idiot bigotry being handed down in a no-good-at-all kind of way. Dolly Sisters , he thought wildly, staying with... |
” N OW IT WAS ten minutes to six. “If You Leave Now, Mr. Lipvig, You Will Be Just In Time For The Race,” the golem rumbled from the corner. “This is work of civic importance, Mr. Pump,” said Moist severely, reading another letter. “I am showing rectitude and attention to duty. ” “Yes, Mr. Lipvig. ” He let it go on unti... |
Gilt’s face was a mask of glee. Now he knew what Moist intended. Round and round she goes, and where she stops, nobody knows… It was the heart of any scam or fiddle. Keep the punter uncertain, or, if he is certain, make him certain of the wrong thing. “I demand that no broomstick is taken by the coach!” said Gilt to th... |
Undecided Adrian had fixed some of his little cold lights up the inner wall, and stones moved under Moist’s feet as he scrambled to the top. He paid them no attention, but ran up the spiral stair so fast that when he reached the top he spun. Mad Al caught him by the shoulders. “No rush,” he said cheerfully, “we’ve got ... |
Before Hex had evolved the control thaumarhythms, completing in a day a task that would have taken five hundred wizards at least ten years, omniscopes were used purely as mirrors, because of the wonderful blackness they showed. This, it turned out, is because “nothing to see” is what most of the universe consists of, a... |
What can we say of the men that caused this, who sat in comfort around their table and killed us by numbers? This— ” “I will sue the university! I will sue the university!” screamed Greenyham. He picked up a chair and hurled it at the omniscope. Halfway to the glass it turned into a small flock of doves, who panicked a... |
When she looked across the mountains, in the direction she’d learned to think of as downstream, she could see that Tower 180 was sending. At that moment, she heard the thump and click of 181’s own shutters opening, dislodging snow. We shift code , she thought, it’s what we do. Up on the tower, watching the starlike twi... |
It was raining now, a gray, sooty drizzle that was little more than fog with a slight weight problem. Some of the staff were waiting inside. He realized the news hadn’t got around. Even Ankh-Morpork’s permanent rumor mill hadn’t been able to beat him back from the university. “What’s happened, Postmaster?” said Groat, ... |
He’d fooled them all, even her. But the good bit was that he could go on doing it, he didn’t have to stop. All he had to do was remind himself, every few months, that he could quit anytime. Provided he knew he could, he’d never have to. And there was Miss Dearheart, without a cigarette in her mouth, only a foot away. H... |
Lord Vetinari was reading a report on the previous night’s secret meeting of the Thieves’ Guild inner inner council. He tidied up the trays quite noiselessly, and then came and stood by Vetinari. “There are ten overnights off the clacks, my lord,” he said. “It’s good to have it back in operation. ” “Indeed, yes,” said ... |
In the same way, the man climbing out of your window in a stripy jumper, a mask, and a great hurry might merely be lost on the way to a fancy-dress party, and the man in the wig and robes at the focus of the courtroom might only be a transvestite who wandered in out of the rain. Snap judgments can be so unfair. * In ar... |
Move both hands onto the new hold, swing gently, get his left hand around the pipe, and he could drag himself across the gap. Then it would be just— The pigeon was nervous. For pigeons, it’s the default state of being. It chose this point to lighten the load. Oh…kay. Correction: Two hands were now gripping the suddenly... |
Fat face, small beard which looked like Lord Vetinari’s, but whereas the Patrician’s was a goatee, the same style on that other man looked like the result of haphazard shaving. Someone from the bank, right? There’d been so many faces, so many hands to shake, and everyone wanted to get into the picture. The man looked h... |
Moist watched blankly as Vetinari took a small but heavy-looking box from a desk drawer, removed a stick of black sealing wax from it, and melted a small puddle of the wax onto the envelope with an air of absorption that Moist found infuriating. “Is that all?” he said. Vetinari looked up and appeared surprised to see h... |
We’ll See to That! He forced himself to read the Minutes, realizing that his eye was skipping whole paragraphs in self-defense. Then he started on the District Offices’ Weekly Reports. After that, the Accidents and Medical Committee sprawled its acres of words. Occasionally, Moist would glance at the mug. At twenty-nin... |
They’re stuck in the mud, they live in the past, they are hypnotized by class and wealth, they think gold is important. ” “Er…isn’t it?” “No. And thief and swindler that you are—pardon me, once were—you know it, deep down. For you, it was just a way of keeping score,” said Vetinari. “What does gold know of true worth? ... |
People didn’t immediately see him, but they sensed his presence. Now people were whispering into speaking tubes. The Patrician was here and no one was formally greeting him! There would be trouble! “How is Miss Dearheart?” said Vetinari, apparently oblivious of the growing stir. “She’s away,” said Moist bluntly. “Ah, t... |
Bent went on, while the torchlight reflected from the bullion and gilded his face. “There is Value! There is Worth! Without the anchor of gold, all would be chaos. ” “Why?” “Who would set the value of the dollar?” “Our dollars are not pure gold, though, are they?” “Aha, yes. Gold-colored, Mr. Lipwig,” said Bent. “Less ... |
Nice little thing, sir, lot of tiny detail, made by widow women according to tradition, costs a whole shilling ’cos the engraving is so fine. Takes the old girls days to do one, what with their eyesight and everything, but it makes ’em feel they’re bein’ useful. ” “But a sixteenth of a penny? One quarter of a farthing?... |
“Incidentally, sir, I of course know that the depraved would clip slivers of metal from a coin, but what is ‘sweating’?” “For the really depraved, I’m sorry to say,” said Moist. “You have a leather lining in your pocket, you put your gold coins in there, and you, well, you jingle them as often as you can. The gold dust... |
Moist’s mouth dropped open. “A contrast, I trust,” said Mrs. Lavish, patting him on the arm. “And now Havelock has sent you here to tell me how to run my bank. You may call me Topsy. ” “Well, I—” Tell her how to run her bank? It hadn’t been put like that. Topsy leaned forward. “I never minded about Honey, you know,” sh... |
” And the dog owns a piece of the bank, thought Moist. What a jolly people the Lavishes are, indeed. “I can see that you might not find it very funny, Mr. Bent,” he said. “I am pleased to say I find nothing funny, sir,” Bent replied as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “I have no sense of humor whatsoever. None at... |
Lavish’s posterity An ominous note Flight planning An even more ominous note, and certainly more ominous than the first note Mr. Lipwig boards the wrong coach MOIST HAD SEEN glass being bent and blown, and marveled at the skill of the people who did it, marveled as only a man can marvel whose skill is only in bending w... |
” “Then I expect they’ll be wanting to rampage back to the mountains,” said Hubert. “I think I would, if I were them. ” “You believe all that could really happen?” said Moist. “A bunch of tubes and buckets can tell you that?” “They are correlated to events very carefully, Mr. Lipswick,” said Hubert, looking hurt. “Corr... |
They’d been rich for centuries. The key players in the current crop of Lavishes, apart from Topsy, were her brother-in-law Marko Lavish and his wife, Capricia Lavish, daughter of a famous trust fund. They lived in Genua, as far away from other Lavishes as possible, which was a very Lavish thing to do. Then there were T... |
‘I, Moist von Lipwig, wish to make it clear that I have no desire or intention to run or be involved in the running of any bank in Ankh-Morpork, preferring instead to devote my energies to the further improvement of the Post Office and the clacks system. ’ Leave a space for Mr. Lipwig’s signature and the date. And then... |
“Yes, Stanley?” “Head of stamps at the Post Office, sir,” Stanley added, in case pin-point identification was required. “Yes, Stanley, I know,” said Moist patiently. “I see you every day. What is it that you want?” “Nothing, sir,” said Stanley. There was a pause, and Moist adjusted his mind to the world as seen through... |
Slant, taking another document from the thin and rather battered briefcase. “Yes, it says here: the shares will be distributed among any remaining members of the family. ” “Any remaining members of the family? What, his family? I don’t think he’s had much of a chance to have one!” “No, Mr. Lipwig,” said Slant, “the Lav... |
I’m thinking of retiring anyway, and a little extra will get me a long way away. ” “We had an agreement!” “An’ now we’re having another one,” said Morpeth. “This time you’re buying forgetfulness. ” The maker of things that seemed beamed happily. The young man looked unhappy and uncertain. “This is priceless to someone,... |
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