"So if I am understanding you correctly," Vetinari turned his personal lifetimer around in his hands, "according to this Wizard Schrodinger, it is possible for someone or something to be both alive and dead at the same time and he tried to prove it using a cat?"
ATTEMPTED, YES. Death took the hourglass back from Vetinari and replaced it on the shelf. I DON'T APPROVE OF CRUELTY TO CATS. I AM RATHER FOND OF CATS. THE CAT DIDN'T APPROVE OF THE EXPERIMENT EITHER.
"And the wizard didn't prove his theory?"
HE PROVED THAT CATS DON'T LIKE TO BE PUT IN BOXES.
"What happened to the cat?"
THE CAT PROVED TO THE WIZARD THAT IT IS POSSIBLE FOR A HUMAN TO BE HALF ALIVE AND HALF DEAD AT THE SAME TIME. I BELIEVE IT HAS FOUND A BETTER SITUATION FOR ITSELF AT MRS. CAKE'S BOARDING HOUSE.
"I, on the other hand, appear to be both alive and dead according to you."
YES, ALTHOUGH YOU ARE MOSTLY DEAD.
"At the moment."
AT THE MOMENT.
"That would seem to imply I could also go back to being mostly alive. Or all alive?"
IF CIRCUMSTANCES PERMITTED. THAT IS THE OTHER MATTER I WISHED TO SPEAK TO YOU ABOUT.
"Ah." So that was it. Vetinari knew this game. It all came down to angels after all – or angles. "You want something from me, I take it."
I CANNOT CREATE THE CIRCUMSTANCES THAT WOULD PERMIT YOU TO RETURN TO YOUR LIFE. ONLY YOU CAN DO THAT.
"And you, naturally, are about to tell me how to do it."
FIRST I NEED TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING, IF YOU ARE WILLING. YOU NEED TO BE ABLE TO SEE THIS ROOM AS I SEE IT. Death placed a bony hand just above Vetinari's shoulder. I CAN HELP YOU TO DO THIS, BUT IT WILL NOT BE PLEASANT FOR YOU.
"Many of the things I have to deal with are unpleasant. By all means, do what you must. Show me what you must."
Death's hand came down on his shoulder, and Vetinari felt a chill run through him such as he had never known before. The shelves, the hourglasses – all of it – became surrounded by a golden glow, and a duplicate image of the chamber superimposed itself over everything. Now Vetinari could read the writing on the lifetimers, names, an endless stream of names . . . .
OBSERVE THE SAND IN THE TIMERS – ALL OF THEM.
It was dizzying, too much for his mind to take in, row upon row of lives stretching out toward infinity. He wanted to shrug off Death's hand, make the vision stop. Then he saw it. The original image of the room, underneath, showed the timers all as he had seen them before, with the varying amounts of sand remaining in the upper and lower parts, the streams flowing at different rates of speed . . . . but not in the new image that had superimposed itself. The glowing, golden image hovering in the foreground showed something far more terrible. All of the lifetimers he could see – all of them – surrounded in that golden glow were nearly at their end, the sands in every single timer almost run out.
NOW DO YOU UNDERSTAND?
"Everyone is . . . dying."
EVERYONE IS ALWAYS DYING. BUT THEY SHOULD NOT ALL DIE AT THE SAME TIME. THE HOURGLASSES SHOULD NOT ALL BE SO NEAR THEIR END. YET THEY ARE BEING TAMPERED WITH. AS YOU HAVE BEEN TAMPERED WITH. AS MANY THINGS HAVE BEEN TAMPERED WITH. A note of anger had crept into Death's deep, still voice. YOU ARE WONDERING IF THIS IS A VISION OF WHAT WILL BE, OR WHAT MAY OR MAY NOT BE. I CANNOT DETERMINE THAT. BUT YOU . . . . Death's hand wrenched Vetinari's gaze around to where his lifetimer had been placed back on the shelf. Now it appeared blurry and imprecise. Vetinari had a single moment to observe the blur before Death removed his bony grip and the golden glow, the vision faded. YOU. YOU MAY DETERMINE THAT.
Vetinari rubbed his eyes and realized yes, he still had them, they were real, they felt real, and rather sore. He looked at the room again. No more double image. The hourglasses were 'normal' again, running at different speeds, full of different amounts of sand.
"But it was real, wasn't it . . . ." Vetinari mumbled, a statement, not a question.
IT COULD BE REAL. I WOULD PREFER THAT IT NOT BECOME REAL.
"Well, it would certainly keep you busy . . . ." Vetinari chuckled and crumpled to his knees, which he also still had and which had suddenly gone weak. I am hysterical, he thought, momentarily outraged at himself, and I am never hysterical. I have never been hysterical in my entire . . . . oh, yes, that's right . . . .
I WARNED YOU THAT IT WOULD BE UNPLEASANT. Death stood aside and waited until Vetinari had brought his emotions back under control. WOULD YOU LIKE A HAND UP?
"Ah . . . no . . . no thank you. I think I would prefer to get up under my own power." Vetinari reached around and realized he did not have his customary cane with him. "Just give me a moment. I have a bit of a game leg, you see."
NOT HERE. THAT IS YOUR OTHER LEG.
"Eh?" Vetinari rose and found that it did not require as much effort as usual. The lingering lameness that he'd felt as a result of being shot by a gonne years ago had disappeared. He had a body here, eyes, eyebrows, legs – he was still Havelock Vetinari. But the familiar aches and pains he'd been accustomed to were gone. Even the soreness his eyes had felt after receiving Death's vision had faded as quickly as it came on. He was . . . well? He looked at his lifetimer again, not to see the sands inside it, but to catch his reflection in the glass. The image that stared back at him was the same as the one he saw in any mirror back at the Palace, the dark hair, neat goatee beard and mustache. He still looked like himself. He raised an eyebrow at himself and was adequately satisfied with the result. "So. I appear to still be me, but with improvements."
YOU HAVE A PHYSICAL PRESENCE HERE. YOU ARE NOT A GHOST. NOR ARE YOU COMPLETELY DEAD YET.
"And the other hourglasses are not nearly run out yet. Matters can still be fixed, so we had best get about fixing them." Vetinari adjusted his collar and turned from his reflection to face Death once more.
YOU ARE TAKING ALL OF THIS BETTER THAN I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT.
"Am I? I am barely in a state I would consider functional under normal circumstances. But as you say, these are not normal circumstances, so we must adapt and shift the best we can. We both have a problem and where there are problems there are solutions. That is why you are showing me these things – so I can be part of the solution."
Death nodded.
I BELIEVE YOU ARE READY TO MEET THE OTHERS.
"More mostly dead people?"
NOT EXACTLY, ALTHOUGH I SUPPOSE ALBERT QUALIFIES. YOU ARE SOMEWHAT UNIQUE.
"Always."
Vetinari followed Death back out of the hall of lifetimers and headed toward yet another room, from which he could hear voices and the sound of somber rodent squeaks coming.
I DO NOT EXPECT YOU TO FIND A SOLUTION TO OUR MUTUAL PROBLEM ON YOUR OWN. I AM NOT UNREASONABLE, WHATEVER MY GRANDDAUGHTER MAY THINK OF ME. I HOPE YOU CAN WORK WELL IN A GROUP.
Death and Vetinari left the blackness of the long corridor and entered another chamber that was well lit, colorful and, compared to the rest of the HOUSE downright livable, a library filled with brightly bound books and comfortable overstuffed leather chairs arranged in a half circle around a crackling fireplace.
Crouched in front of the fire an elderly man with a drippy red nose was roasting a pan of chestnuts. Standing not far from him, engaged in pleasant conversation, were two men Vetinari did not know personally but recognized nevertheless. One was the milkman who delivered fresh dairy products to the Palace every morning, the other a wizened, balding and thin man in a tattered, ratty grey robe held together with a stained piece of string. The latter man wore sandals on bare, callused, wrinkly feet, had a cigarette of dubious appearance half-clutched in one corner of his mouth, and kept a broad-headed broom in the crook of one arm. On the other side of the library, a striking young woman with black-streaked white hair gestured in a state of earnest argument with Death's rodential replica. She was the first to notice Vetinari and Death's arrival.
"Now who are you dragging into this, Grandfath-" She broke off the rest of her question and turned a shade paler as she saw Vetinari. "Oh, god."
"I hope not," Vetinari said with a smile. "Being Patrician is quite difficult enough."
The milkman, his tattered companion, and the elderly roaster of chestnuts all looked in their direction, and the tattered man with the broom stubbed out his cigarette in one quick motion and strode over to greet Vetinari with a twinkling grin.
"In that case, Your Lordship, you should be very relieved to learn that our task is a simple one. All we have to do is save the world!"
[-]
HE is interfering.
What of it? WE are interfering. He can do nothing to Us.
The Others thought that, and they failed.
WE are not the Others. WE will not fail. His attempts to stop Us will be futile.
WE do not doubt?
No, WE do not.
[* * * *]