Chapter 10
The next day Angelina had barely settled to work, when Vetinari walked in.
"How are you progressing?" he inquired after their brief greeting.
"Quite well, my lord. I have found out what I needed in the university library."
"What about the air sample analysis?"
" I have so far identified seventeen airborne toxic substances. Most of them are directly connected with some industry or other and their origins are fairly straightforward to trace."
"Seventeen Hershebean rubber scenarios?"
"I'm afraid not," she replied. "Most of these substances are intrinsic to the processes that produce them. The choice of raw materials would make no difference."
Vetinari looked over her shoulder at the list she had pulled out on her desk.
"I have a very bad feeling that you are going to suggest closing down these factories altogether, Miss Winter. Let me tell you straight away that this is not an option."
"There might be an alternative, my lord. I have read up on something. If I can identify exactly which toxins are emitted where, then it might be possible to insert suitable filters into the respective exhausts. Each type of filter would have to be specific to the substance it is targeting, and you would have to involve alchemists on a grander scale in order to produce them. But it should be feasible. Emission filters have been used with good effect elsewhere."
"Where?"
Angelina cringed. She rose from her seat, walked over to the window and looked outside.
"I'm afraid I don't know, my lord. I could give you names of places, but they would mean nothing to you, just like they mean nothing to me. They are not normal places. I think they are places ... elsewhere."
The Patrician sat down on the seat that Angelina had vacated and folded his hands on the tip of his cane.
"You have lost me there, Miss Winter. Pray, tell me very slowly what you mean."
She told him. Vetinari shook his head.
"My dearest Miss Winter, it beggars belief what you have got yourself involved in. Creatures from the dungeon dimensions will be queuing by the city gates. They are probably there already. And you are telling me the librarian took you there?"
"He did. He seemed to think it was safe enough, probably because he knew I had been there before. But I can promise you that I will not go there again. It was too creepy." She shuddered. "However, I do believe creatures from the dungeon dimensions or whatever you call them will not be a problem. This ... world, as far as I can tell, functions entirely without magic."
Vetinari raised both eyebrows in surprise.
"Is that so? How very interesting. What holds it together?"
"I do not know. There is something called electricity, though that seems to be a form of fuel. It is all very confusing as far as the general structure of the place is concerned. But the accounts of the filters were very precise and clear. I think the principle is sound."
"How would they work?"
"By inserting a layer of catalysts into the chimney. As the emissions travel through the filter, the targeted substance reacts with the catalyst and is retained there. Once the filter is worn out it can be disposed of safely, probably by burying."
"Of course. That does make sense."
"I think we should try this on a small scale and see what results we get. A very small trial run couldn't do any harm, do you think?" she pleaded.
Vetinari stroked his beard and sighed heavily.
"Try it then. On a very small scale, here in this room. If it works, we'll see what we can do on the full scale."
"Thank you, my lord. I am sure that is the right decision."
"Well, as long as you are careful."
"I will be, my lord. You know I always am. Oh, and one more thing. I believe they will be very expensive."
Vetinari sighed again.
"I thought there might be a catch. Have you considered how the manufacturers will react to this?"
"No. That's not my concern."
"Aha. It is for me to deal with?"
"Yes, my lord."
"I feel, Miss Winter, that this is becoming a very convenient excuse for you. I wish you would begin to see things a bit more in context."
Angelina shrugged.
"Enlighten me. What is the context?"
"Well, how exactly do you expect me to deal with it?"
"I thought you would just make it a law and that would be it. You're the tyrant, aren't you?"
A brief smile flickered across the Patrician's face.
"I hesitate to remind you of this incident, my dear Miss Winter, but I have a lively memory of how you reacted on the single occasion when you thought the tyrant was not paying heed to your recommendations. What makes you think that others in the city will not deem their interests similarly important?"
Angelina shrugged awkwardly.
"I dare say my so-called interest were a lot less selfish."
Vetinari shook his head.
"We are talking politics here, Miss Winter, not morality. It just so happens that the manufacturers are in a position of considerable influence in the guild council, not to mention the fact that they produce a large proportion of the city's wealth and pay the taxes from which you draw your salary."
"You mean to say they have the common good in mind?"
"Oh no. They have their personal gain in mind, just like you imply. The common good is a handy by-product. And that is the beauty of the entrepreneurial spirit. In politics, dearest Miss Winter, what matters is not intentions but results."
"Oh, that goes for just about anything. But I am afraid I have no head for politics. It's too complex for me."
"Don't you enjoy complexity?" he demanded.
"Not this kind. The complexity of a well-written fugue, yes. The intricate patterns of veins on a leaf, yes. But I cannot cope with intrigue and ambiguity. Politics always appears to me like a game of Thud!, where you have to think ahead and try to discover what devious plans your opponent has. I am not good at understanding people's hidden motives and predicting their guile, my lord. I tend to think well of everybody and depend on them being open with me."
Vetinari looked thoughtful.
"Do you realize that makes you extremely vulnerable?"
"Probably. But I have been lucky in that I have always been surrounded by people I could trust."
He walked over to where she stood by the window.
"And do you trust me?"
"Of course, my lord," she said simply.
"What rational reason do you have to trust me?"
She smiled.
"Rationality doesn't come into it much, my lord. The key is intuition. And experience, of course. You have yet to let me down."
He looked at her earnestly and she returned his gaze.
"I hope I never will," he said eventually.
She looked away and picked up some tongs and beakers that were lying on the windowsill.
"Get me those filters then," she replied and walked across the room to put the equipment into the cupboard.
"Very well," said Vetinari levelly. "Good day, Miss Winter."
-----
One afternoon not much later, when Lord Vetinari was in the Oblong Office writing instructions to his ambassador in Bonk while Drumknott was sorting through stacks of paperwork for filing, the Patrician asked suddenly:
"Have you ever thought about marrying, Drumknott?"
The younger man looked up.
"Well, yes, my lord. Before I got married."
Vetinari's eyebrows rose briefly, then he carried on with his task. After a while he began again:
"I do not want to appear unduly inquisitive, Drumknott, but the question somehow arises why you did not mention your marriage to me."
"Keeping you informed about my current marital status is not part of my contractual duties," said Drumknott, while he calmly went on with his work. "I did check, my lord."
Vetinari looked as if he was going to reply to this, but then thought better of it. After another pause, he asked:
"How long have you been married?"
"Just over a year, my lord. You might remember that I took a week's leave last April."
"So you did, Drumknott. Quite a low-key wedding, was it?"
"Not exactly so, my lord. We had a rather big party at my wife's home village near Sto Lat."
"Oh, did you."
The two men continued with their respective work, and for another while nothing was heard in the room but the shuffling of paper and the scratching of the quill.
"And are you satisfied with your marital status, Drumknott?" asked the Patrician at last.
"Very much so, my lord," replied the clerk.
"Would you recommend marriage to me?"
Drumknott stopped in mid-shuffle. He screwed up his face in an effort to think of a suitable reply.
"It would cause comment, my lord," he said eventually.
"Yes, I believe it would," said Vetinari gloomily. Another pause ensued.
"The tone of the comments would of course," Drumknott went on, "depend to a certain degree on the nature of the...candidate."
"Hmm."
"No doubt you are aware, my lord, that last summer there were substantial rumours circulating in the city that connected you with Dame Gina Dulci."
"Hmm. Substantial, were they?"
"However...," Drumknott began carefully.
Vetinari looked up.
"Well? However what, Drumknott?"
"However, personally I wouldn't be surprised if your choice fell on somebody much...smaller and ...err...closer to home."
He looked down on his stack of papers. Vetinari followed his glance and discerned the words "Emissions analysis, Dolly Sisters and Upper Broadway area" on the uppermost file. A smile briefly appeared on his face.
"Drumknott, you are, as usual, commendably astute."
"Thank you, my lord. I have been observing the development for a while. If I may be so bold as to say that I would consider it a very suitable connection. Not that my opinion is relevant, of course."
"Oh, but it is! If I did not value your judgement, I would not have asked. Nevertheless, it may never come to anything. There is the age difference. And in spite of my marked attentions, there don't seem to be signs of a particular...preference on the lady's side. Her look and manners are open, cheerful, and engaging, but without any symptom of peculiar regard. I have come to the conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart is not likely to be easily touched. It would not do to importune her."
With this the Patrician returned to his writing. Drumknott picked up the papers and made for the door, when he suddenly realised that he was in a unique position of superior experience. He turned around briefly and whispered:
"Courage, my lord!"
----
When the Patrician entered her room, he found Angelina busy with charts and calculations. Beads on an abacus clicked gently.
"Good morning, my lord. I'm in the last lap. The investigation should be completed by Wednesday."
"Excellent. That happens to coincide with the day I want you to present it to a little meeting I am arranging. I was suitably impressed with your trial run the other day. If you manage to convince the meeting, you will get your filters. There might even be tea and figgins afterwards."
She laughed.
"You certainly know my weaknesses, my lord."
"Do I?" he said, smiling.
"Well, not all of them, maybe," she replied, pushing her papers aside. "Come and see what I've found."
She led the way to a large box in the corner of the room. Vetinari followed her and peered inside cautiously. Nestled into a pile of newspaper scraps, a hedgehog was sleeping.
"Isn't it marvellous?" she asked, beaming at him. He looked at the animal without any particular expression.
"As far as I can tell, it is a common hedgehog. Folklore has it that the hedgehog cannot be ... specifically inconvenienced, but apart from that I do not see what is so extraordinary about it."
"Well, how many hedgehogs have you seen in Ankh-Morpork until now?"
Vetinari stroked his beard between his index finger and thumb.
"You know, Miss Winter, I don't think I've seen any. Are you going to tell me now that this is significant?"
"Indeed. When I did my baseline investigation in Offle, I found no evidence of any wild mammals in the city apart from rats, mice and feral cats and dogs. But in the last three weeks I have seen two hedgehogs, and a couple more have been reported to me. I found this one in the Street of Small Gods, near the cemetery, curled up in the middle of the road. It was almost run over by a cart, so I took it with me to keep it safe. I'll soon find a suitable place to let it go again, but I wanted you to see it first. It really looks like hedgehogs are coming back into the city, after what seems an amazingly short period of environmental improvements. But of course these little fellows can cover a lot of ground in a short time. I also saw a grass frog in Hide Park the other day. I regard that as an indicator that our efforts are beginning to have an effect."
"Good grief, Miss Winter, it'll be fish in the river next! You promised that clearing up pollution would improve the productivity of the workforce and avert a lethal epidemic – you did not mention an invasion by wildlife."
"Now, don't pretend to be dumb, my lord. You know as well as I do that all these things are interconnected."
"If you say so."
The Patrician abandoned the box and began to wander around the room. Angelina lingered in the corner, looking at the spiky little animal with an expression of smug satisfaction.
"May I ask you, Miss Winter, what your plans for the future are?" he asked abruptly.
She turned towards him, looking uneasy, but his voice had sounded benign.
"I believe I have adopted your lordship's theory about what people really want," she replied.
"For things to stay as they are? Is that all that you aspire to?"
"I am trying to be realistic."
Angelina could see that he was not pleased with her answer, but could not work out what he wanted to hear. Vetinari was still moving around the room, randomly picking up objects and setting them down again. She wondered if he had some reason to be angry with her. Had it been a clumsy move to show off the hedgehog?
"Miss Winter, I am not only referring to your professional ambitions. I am asking about your plans in general, about..."
He hesitated. His eyes were scanning the room as if to find a cue.
"...what you are hoping to – what on the Disc is this?" he interrupted himself.
He picked up an arrangement of small hourglasses in different sizes, mounted on a wooden frame in such a way that they could be individually turned.
"Oh, that", she said, grateful for the diversion. "That is my precision timer. I use it for certain procedures. My brother Felix made it for me some years ago. The smallest glass is a three second interval."
Vetinari looked incredulous.
"You call that a precision timer? Why don't you use a watch?"
"I detest imps."
"I hear there are good mechanical watches available in the Street of Cunning Artificers."
"Either too expensive or too unreliable. And anyway, Felix made this specially…"
Vetinari rummaged around in his robes.
"Take this," he said and dropped something into her hand. It was a pocket watch. She looked at it carefully.
"It is very beautiful," she ventured eventually. "But it doesn't look like a mechanical watch."
"I had the imp replaced a while ago with a clockwork mechanism by a very ... remarkable clockmaker. It is particularly accurate. You see, I wanted to upgrade rather than replace it, since it has some sentimental value for me. It belonged to my mother. I would like you to have it."
"Oh, I cannot take it," she said hurriedly and tried to hand it back to him. He quickly took her hand in both of his and closed her fingers over the watch.
"My lord, I cannot possibly..."
"Keep it. That is an order. An official measure to improve safety standards in this room."
His hands were still wrapped around hers and their eyes met briefly. Then she looked away and blushed. He released her and walked towards the door.
"Wednesday at eleven o'clock, Miss Winter," he said over his shoulder. "I expect a high standard of precision in your statement. The fate of the filters depends on it"
----
When Angelina walked home that evening, her hand was securely locked around the treasure in her coat pocket. She could scarcely believe that he should have given her such a gift, that he had pressed her, yes, literally pressed her to accept it. She had never before heard him admit to having any relatives whatsoever. And now he had given her his own keepsake from his mother. Miss Winter, I am not only referring to your professional ambitions. I am asking about your plans in general, about what you are hoping to... Suddenly his strange behaviour made sense. It was breathtaking.
At home she wolfed down her dinner under the suspicious eye of her landlady. She excused herself from the customary chat with Tvoolia and Goldy and rushed up to her room, where she played flute improvisations until Mrs Scunners knocked on the ceiling with a broom handle. With a rueful look towards the candle she decided that it was too late at night to write to Cassandra. She slept with the watch under her pillow. In the morning she attached it to the chain on which she had previously worn her grandmother's pendant. He would see it and understand that she approved. No other encouragement should be necessary. She was waiting for his next move.
----
Throughout the next day Angelina was busy preparing her presentation. Vetinari had left in his carriage early in the morning and had not returned by the time she went home. On Wednesday morning she gathered her papers and rehearsed her part in her mind. She drank a cup of camomile tea to calm her nerves. It was so important that she should be professional. Nothing could be worse than appearing in front of the meeting like a giggling teenager. She carefully removed the smile from her face and set off to the Rats Chamber. While she ascended the staircase it suddenly occurred to her that the guild leaders might recognize the watch as being Vetinari's. Quickly she dropped it into her dress so as not to compromise him.
When she arrived at the Rats Chamber, the room was already half full. She took her usual seat next to Vetinari.
"Good morning, my lord. Good morning, Mr Drumknott," she said and leaned forward to greet the clerk, who was sitting on the Patrician's other side. She was pleased with how calm she managed to sound. Then she placed her folded hands on top of her papers and glanced around the room. Seats were filling quickly. The hub-hub of voices died down when Vetinari raised his hand.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," he began. "Thank you for taking the time from your various, ahem, responsibilities to attend this meeting. As you will be aware, our environmental health department has produced sterling work over the last few months, which has already led to an improved quality of life in the city. I am sure you will agree with me that it is in the interest of us all that this work be continued and any effort be made to rid Ankh-Morpork of pollution as much as huma... - as possible. You have already been fully informed on previous occasions about the state of the river Ankh, but this is not our only concern. Miss Winter will now present you with the findings of her completed air pollution investigation."
The meeting followed the established pattern that Angelina had become accustomed on previous occasions. She presented her findings as neutrally as she could. Afterwards, questions and comments arose from the assembly and as usual, Vetinari picked them up and rephrased them in such a way that she knew what he wanted her to say. She was vaguely aware that political things were happening in the room, but did not concern herself with them, as she knew them to be in the safe hands of the Patrician. The discussion then moved away from fact and number and Vetinari took charge of it completely. Knowing that her part was over, Angelina allowed her mind to drift away for a moment. How delightful it was to sit next to his lordship and assist him in this intricate operation. How wonderful it was to feel the smooth metal of the watch on her skin. How exciting it was to...
The next thing she became aware of was a voice exclaiming:
"That still leaves the question of compensation!"
Vetinari leaned back in his seat and replied calmly: "I am afraid we will not be able to discuss that today. What time is it, Miss Winter?"
Oh dear, the smooth metal of the watch on her skin under the dress...
"Errr...I don't know, my lord, " she whispered, struggling not to show her embarrassment.
Immediately, Mr Drumknott flicked open his own watch.
"It is twelve fifty-five," the imp announced.
"Ah, time for lunch then," decreed the Patrician. "I thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen."
While people were shuffling out of the room, Mr Shanks of the Guild of Carpenters approached Angelina and involved her in a discussion about wood stains. When she looked round to catch Vetinari's eye, she saw that he had already left. She gathered her papers and went back down to her office. Things had gone rather well, she thought. She had appeared as calm and level-headed as Vetinari could have wished for. Tomorrow or even this afternoon, she was confident, he would come to review the meeting with her and then she would be able to smile her approval at him to her heart's content.