Chapter 3.
That afternoon, Waleed's home became the headquarters of the inaugural Klatchian-Morporkian Relations Committee. Professor Nizam arrived early with Ponder Stibbons and an apologetic look that suggested arriving early had been Ponder's idea. Everyone else was late, which, in the scheme of things, meant they were not late at all, because nothing started until everyone had arrived.
By the time Waleed's fiancée Zayida Wazir and her father straggled in, Professor Nizam, Ponder Stibbons, and Captain Carrot had eaten nearly all the baklava.
"I have an excuse!" said Zayida, in an Ankh-Morpork accent that could at least have floated pebbles. "Mrs. Whitlow kept me later! Said I'm in charge of the whole laundry staff starting tomorrow, and if I play my cards right I might be in charge of the entire Unseen University housekeeping staff one day."
"Why aren't you working in your father's bookshop, Zayida?" asked Carrot.
"I have a brother, and there wasn't room for all of us to work in there. So I had to find other employment, and I have to say it's working out quite well. I've even gotten the confidence to stand up to a wizard and tell him that it doesn't matter if things from the Dungeon Dimensions invaded and his clothes are covered in green ichor, he'll have to wait until the next day to have them washed because all the other wizards whose clothes were covered in green ichor got their laundry into the queue before him."
"So Carrot, do we have any cases today?" said Waleed, though his eyes were still on his fiancée. She was beautiful, she was An Ankh-Morpork Success Story in the making (the Unseen University staff was so large and prestigious that leading it was rather like commanding an army, and, as such, it was something to be proud of), and she had a bookshop in the family. She was perfect. And she could stand up to wizards, which was very important, because Waleed had never gotten the knack of it and there were now two wizards in the room. Wizards were kindest to cooks, but they always made sure to avoid offending the ladies who got green ichor out of their robes as well. Otherwise, they would have to do it themselves.
"We do in fact have a case today. Minor dust-up in Dolly Sisters. Seems a man who lost a brother around the same time as the nearly-war blamed his neighbor, one Mr. Sharif. But we arrested him."
"And is that the end of it?"
"Well, yes. You see, Sergeant Angua informed the man that his brother had not, in fact, met his demise at the hands of Mr. Sharif, or even at Klatchian hands at all. He had fallen off a ship and drowned, and the ship wasn't even going to fight in the nearly-war. The Klatchians need not fear him any longer."
"I want to be at the trial," said Professor Nizam. "I want to make sure Mr. Sharif gets lesser punishment if all he did was defend himself."
"He didn't even do that. He cursed quite a bit, but he didn't throw a punch or a kick. He was trying to avoid a fight."
"He knows how it'd look if he did fight," said Waleed. "You know those violent Klatchians, always willing to cause an affray." Causing An Affray was perhaps Waleed's favorite phrase in the entirety of the Ankh-Morpork law book. He wouldn't want to be charged with it, of course, but it looked good on paper. You didn't have Affrays in Al-Khali. You had Mr. Kassim from Djelibeybi punching out Mr. Xerxes from Istanzia and then 71-Hour Ahmed not liking either of them because of course he is a D'Reg, and throwing both of them in jail and leaving the Grand Vizier—a Hersheban—to sort it all out, which he usually did, with a mind as sharp as a scimitar and, usually, with an actual scimitar as well. You could call it all an Affray, if you were willing to stretch the term to cover the playing-out of a thousand-year history of tribal warfare, and Waleed was not.
"You're an Assassin," Mr. Wazir pointed out. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."
"Ah, yes, but there is a difference between someone who kills and an Assassin. And an Assassin does not fight." This was not entirely true. Assassins fought a great deal, at school. Waleed had not gone a week without fighting, but usually the other fellow came off worse. It was true, however, that Assassins rarely fought on the streets of Ankh-Morpork. If someone was able to fight you, you hadn't done your job.
"Good point," said Zayida. "What's the next thing on the agenda?"
"Unseen University. Have any Klatchian students complained of mistreatment, Mr. Stibbons? Professor Nizam?" Ponder Stibbons was not, in point of fact, a Professor; he was merely a very busy research fellow, occasional finance officer, and all-round errand boy for the higher levels of wizardry. A professorship would only have given him more work to do, not because the other wizards would have forced him to do professor work, but because he'd have forced himself. Ponder Stibbons was that kind of person.
"Well, we sort of follow a program of benign neglect with regard to our students," said Ponder Stibbons. "Nizam is unusual in that he actually gives lectures and enjoys it. However, there have been some complaints about bledlows or fellow students. Ridcully's only prejudice is favoring wizards over non-wizards, so he won't be having with something as banal as racism in his university. And Professor Nizam of course is an invaluable resource. He counsels all our Klatchian students perfectly."
"A Klatchian Students' Association was recently formed. Perhaps I should invite them to get involved with the committee."
"An excellent idea, Professor Nizam. One final thing on the agenda. The guilds. Klatchians are well-represented in the Thieves' and Assassins' Guilds, sad to say, but many of the more…shall we say, above-board groups have neglected to invite people like Mr. Wazir despite their being successful merchants. The Merchants' Guild still rejects my father's applications, and he could buy some of the other members' shops! And don't even get me started on the press."
"Why not, Mr. Sahaffy?" asked Nizam, who, being a wizard, could rarely stop himself from asking questions.
"I wrote a perfectly serviceable article about the committee and submitted it before the deadline, and instead someone who wasn't even there writes the article based on an interview with Vimes! They are not interested in the Klatchian perspective! And their most recent article on Dejelibeybi left Pteppic in a rage! He told the entire Assassins' Guild about it in a newsletter! Good old Pteppic, never forgets the school even though he's ruling a city. A small city, but still a city. We're proud of him. And I graduated with a young lady who is now Chief Secretary to the Grand Vizier in Hersheba."
"You know, Nizam should know something about that," said Ponder.
"I do keep an eye on current events abroad, yes."
"Well, I meant like from your contacts. Isn't there a Viziers' Guild?"
"First of all, Mr. Stibbons, you cannot have a Viziers' Guild. They would squabble worse than wizards. Who were married to witches. Second, if there were such an organization, I would not be entitled to join it. Do I look at all fat men with beards and glasses and assume they're wizards?"
"Well no sir, but wizards have pointy hats. I'm surprised they haven't given you one."
"I have ceremonial reasons for wearing this turban."
"I'm surprised they didn't try to stick the pointy hat on top of it anyway."
"Giving me a turban with a point in the middle? I think not. And Rincewind was vocally against it as well. Seemed convinced it would 'eat away my Moral Wossname.' I attempted to point out that his cause and effect were out of order. Perhaps, I told him, it is not that being a Grand Vizier makes one evil, but rather there is something in the profession that attracts people who are already evil. And regardless, it is not, in fact, the hat that makes a Grand Vizier. People who are not wizards would do well to avoid wearing pointy hats, but in Klatch nothing ill will befall you for wearing a 'turban with a point in the middle.' What makes a Grand Vizier is his signet ring."
"You certainly know a lot about it for someone who claims no connection."
"In Klatch, you made it a point to understand Grand Viziers. Do you not in Ankh-Morpork try to understand your Patrician?"
"Oh yeah, we try. We try our arses off. Most of us don't succeed. Why would he just have Vimes hire the first poor Klatchian bugger what got caught? Why not someone with more experience?"
"I have met with Lord Vetinari. He did not mention anything about my partner in the venture becoming, as you say, the first poor Klatchian bugger what got caught. Besides, you're the first Klatchian bugger what accepted the job. Don't blame Vetinari, and don't come to undue conclusions. Imagine, Mr. Stibbons thinking I am a Vizier! If I were, why would I be lounging around Unseen University!"
"So…getting me was Vimes' idea?"
"Why do you act as if it is so impossible for Sir Vimes to have ideas, Mr. Sahaffy?" asked Nizam.
"No, it's not impossible for him to have ideas. It's impossible for him to have bloody stupid ideas like this! What are we even doing here! An Assassin and a man what looks like he should be steepling his fingers and cackling madly? It's like a joke! Assign these two and expect people to actually treat Klatchians better. If I didn't know better I'd think Vimes planned it so it'd go wrong, but Vimes hates everyone so much that he doesn't hate Klatchians specially."
"I don't think Vimes hates everybody," said Carrot, who wouldn't think that a man wearing an "I Hate Everybody" button hated everybody. "I think he just suspects everybody. There's a difference."
"Thank you for that insight, Captain Carrot. I've always told my fellow wizards you're one of the best men on the Watch," said Nizam.
"I know you can't tell by looking at me, but I am a dwarf," said Carrot.
"One of the best members of the Watch. I regret my former comment entirely, as it left out Sergeant Angua as well as the Watch's non-humans. Incidentally, I rather like Dwarfish. Taught myself a bit of it, even."
"Really, sir? I find that most Morporkians have difficulty with Dwarfish."
"Most Morporkians did not grow up speaking Klatchian," said Professor Nizam. "Once you can already make all manner of bizarre sounds, learning Dwarfish is simply a matter of putting them in new places."
"I think you've gotten a little off-topic, Captain Carrot," said Waleed. "However, this meeting is, until I can get some guild representatives in here, over."
"Not yet it isn't," said Professor Nizam. "We're not going to be meeting here next week. We're going to have an office."
"Really? You found us one on such short notice?"
"There's a vacant apartment in a building next to the Alchemists' Guild. Most people don't want to live near alchemists, but I think we'll be safe if we only work near them. We'll need furniture, of course."
"Furniture is no problem," said Waleed. "I'll just stop by my father's shop tomorrow. He imports wonderful Klatchian furniture, and rugs as well."
"I thought you said he was in Quirm?"
"He is, but someone's running the shop in his absence. I'll just have some things delivered to the vacant apartment, and next week we should have a working office. For now, you are all dismissed, except for Professor Nizam."
They all left. "Professor Nizam, are you so sure an office near the alchemists is a good idea?"
"It was the only vacant space I could find. Besides, my sister was an alchemist, so I know the guild. They'd never hurt us deliberately, and most of their precautions are good enough that only their own building takes damage. I looked at the building yesterday. It's perfectly fine."
"That's good to know. I think today went well."
"Very well. I'm truly sorry for questioning you for being an Assassin."
"And I am truly sorry for treating you like an evil vizier. You know, maybe we're not the worst people to be working for Klatchians after all. Maybe…we're the best."
"Explain, Mr. Sahaffy."
"Well, we're such extreme examples of types of Klatchians that you don't want to run into. If an Assassin and a Grand Vizier can be trustworthy, hard-working Ankh-Morpork success stories—and even get along with each other—what does that say about the rest of our people?"
"Ah yes, trustworthiness, the quality so few white human Morporkians have when they go about demanding it of foreigners and other species. But I rather like your hypothesis, and hope that we prove it right."
Professor Nizam shook Waleed's hand, put his coat back on, and left. Waleed made himself another cup of coffee and planned next week's agenda. He still had someone to assassinate, but he had figured out a way to get that done without doing it himself. After all, it would look awfully suspicious if Amir Sahaffy's son, who was also a consultant for city institutions now, and had so recently made remarks about the Merchants' Guild's unfair treatment of Amir Sahaffy, were found killing the merchant largely responsible for that unfair treatment. Oh, the Watch wouldn't get involved, if he remembered the paperwork this time, but they weren't the only people whose suspicions mattered now. Now, everyone's suspicions mattered, from Vimes and Vetinari right down to any bugger who could pick up a copy of the Times and actually read it. Waleed could still be an Assassin. He would have to be; he enjoyed eating and having a roof over his head, after all. He would just have to be careful of who he accepted contracts for. The KMRC was going to make enemies, and if Waleed ever had to kill any of those enemies on anyone else's orders, it would not look coincidental.
He wondered if what he had told Nizam was right after all, but then thought Well, I'm not going to be wrong in front of Nizam. We don't even have an office yet. Focus on that, Sahaffy. He had to focus on the office; he would be going to his father's shop the very next morning.
