Chapter 10

'Commander Vimes, you require medical attention. Follow me.' Edwin said, heading for the street and despite himself, Vimes followed.

A large green booth stood empty opposite them.

'What is that?' Cerrig asked.

'It was a free medical system, it was all the rage before the Bone Idol came along...'

'The Bone Idol?' Vimes asked through gritted teeth.

'The pinnacle of human ingenuity... a system of worshipping small boxes that linked every one on the Disc. It was a bit barbaric to start with, having to wait hours or even days for even a single image, but they eventual managed to breed mini imps to convey information, and soon discovered thaumic wide band. The had a Book of Faces, not a great idea for the more literal minded members of society, but it meant leaps in the facial surgery departments. There was also WooOoooogle, developed by a banshee apparently, that could search every scrap of info the Bone Idol knew, and a sudden obssession with cats, the choosen animal of the Bone Idol. Once all people were linked they, according to files, became Bone Idol itself, an ever expanding brain, as it were. This was Hexi's plan, to ultimately harness all human knowledge in it's demented ideals of world safety. Please step in Commander Vimes, it's painless, I assure you...'

After a moment, and a few choice curses, Vimes wandered out looking total stunned, but this was Vimes, so it was short lived.

'So everyone just gave up and became sheep to Bone Idol, then?' He asked.

'Oh no, Commander Vimes. There were resistance groups at first...'

Cerrig interupted. 'This isn't right... There's no free will left.'

Vimes smiled, and not plesantly.

'So Edwin... By virtue of the evidence, the Watch is still active, albeit with a slave troll army?'

'Yes, Commander Vimes. May I ask the purpose of your enquiry?'

'Oh... Just wondering. And on the subject, am I officially MIA or dead?'

'Please wait, Commander.' There was a whirring and clicking of cogs. 'Samuel Vimes, Commander of the City Watch, Duke...'

'Yeah, yeah...Get on with it!' He hissed, now getting worried about being exposed in the street.

'...You are listed as MIA, Commander. No cerificate of death issued...'

'Good!' Vimes' grin widened.

Cerrig, catching on to the Commander's thoughts, innocently asked. 'Does Ankh-Morpork still have a peerage system?'

'Why, yes Constable. I fail to see how that is relevant, but the system remains in tact...'

'Then by law of the city, and the right of succession, I would like you to meet the very much alive King of Ankh-Morpork, Sir Samuel Vimes. If any man, woman or sentient species here present bears similar claim, or objects to this right, let them come forward, and state their case!' Cerrig's voice echoed down the empty streets.

After a moment he continues, watched by a bemused Vimes.

'As the law states...' He was cut short by a voice over an external tannoy system.

' By virtue of the ancient edict, I challenge the claim of Samuel Vimes. I do this by my right as Patrician, and keeper of the high throne. Feel free to join me at the Palace...'

'Commander Vimes!' Edwin said. 'That is Patrician Hexi.'

'Is it just me, or is the street vibrating?' Cerrig said, unhooking his bow, an arrow notched in the blink of an eye.

'Oh...' Edwin pointed to an advancing battalion of Watch Trolls coming from every direction. 'Any suggestions, Commander?'

'Scarper!' He shouted, and headed off down a narrow back alley.

'I could do with Detritus or Bluejohn right about now!' Vimes muttered, weaving through the blind alleys and over small fences and walls. Now he wasn't sure whether it was blind luck or animal instinct, or the horde of murderous trolls chasing him, but Vimes found himself outside of the Old Pseudopolis Yard building.

'Quick, in here!' he yelled, booting the old doors open. He no sooner closed the doors again when the low rumble of stone feet marched past in double time.

As he turned, his jaw dropped. A lurid sign flicker above his head announcing that this was the Old Watch Memorial Museum.

'Care to explain, Edwin?' Vimes said, panting. He saw crude mechanical marrionettes of the Watch he knew but a lot older, bobbing up and down behing desks and what appeared to be a barracade, clutching now rusty swords.

'Official reports of the day indicate they resisted the plans of the then Patrician, your...er...son, Commander, to fit the city trolls with super-cooled control units.'

'Wait... Little Sam? My son? You better check again if you don't want to be pulling your legs out of your arse!'

'Of course Commander...please wait.' After a second he continued. 'Private files... Cliff notes, Commander?'

'Would be better for you!' Vimes replied.

'Compounding files... Sam Vimes, the second, after losing his father began a campaing for a safer watch. Approached by Hexi corp, and combining his mother's wealth with that of Hexi, took the vacant Patricianship. Files indicate that his psychological state was... for lack of a better word, manipulated by Hexi, sir. Soon, he was but a puppet. He passed a law for the use of trolls as controlled enforcement front liners, much to the public's dismay. Later information indicated this was the cause of a citywide riot. He is quoted as saying "Let it burn!" It was during these riot that a squad of Real Heavy's stormed this place. No survivors.

His own son, Samuel Vimes, the third, took control of the city from Hexi. He tried to rebuild the city, but found that Hexi had spread beyond the walls of Ankh-Morpork and into the furthest regions of the Disc, and that all the technology was controlled by Hexi. Voting became electronic, and so he was ousted, although a glitch made it possible for a member of the Dibbler Guild to be Patrician for a week, and in stepped Mr. Hexi, who effectively controlled every major business in the city. Other files indicate he hired assassins to kill him, just to see if it was possible...'

'Sir!' Cerrig hissed, holding his hand up. 'Listen!'

Vimes strained his ears, but couldn't hear anything.

'What is is constable?'

'Breathing, Sir. Very, very slow breathing from underneath us...' He lay down and placed his head against the dusty floor boards.

Vimes looked along the corridor, past the learing,squeaking, dead-eyed metal puppets to a plain wall.

'That used to be where the door to the lower cells were! Let's see what's down there, because I am getting annoyed with this bloody ghost town...'