"I feel crispy… crispy. You have no idea!" comes from a site called Noise Rover. The animation is called The Hole. Please watch it. It's weird.
The next chapter is going to take a while because I'm hitting the point where I don't have much written except for an outline of what I want to happen and a few scenes. Spoiler alert: Mrs. Cake vs. The Ridcully Brothers in the showdown of the century! Also, the 'Kick the Dog' trope will be used on Vimes.
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"There is nothing I can do in this situation. Either I step down as Patrician or I just push away my emotions and continue ruling. The two most powerful men from the disc's most influential city cannot be seen making an alliance."
Vetinari walked out into the center of the square and touched the ground. As he stood, a rectangular prism was sketched into existence.
"I have carefully adjusted the balance of power in the city for decades. Ankh-Morpork means the world to me. I know what will happen if I show you any preference."
Vetinari moved his hand and the object stretched into a thin wall that was a bit taller than him.
"Is there something that would force us to act together?" asked Vimes.
"I don't think there has ever been a situation where we worked together that was in any way desirable. 7 multi, 24, horizontal," said Vetinari as he touched the newly created wall.
Vimes watched Vetinari manipulate the seven duplicate walls that had branched off from the original. He squinted at it trying to figure out what he was making.
"I can see why you kept this to yourself," he said deciding to ignore the strange objects and return to the conversation.
"From my perspective," said Vetinari, "the only remotely plausible option would be to ask you to stand down as Commander of the Watch. However, being a watchman is part of you. It would be like asking you to cut off a leg and that is not how healthy relationships begin."
Vimes sighed. There seemed to be no solution, or at least none that didn't result in violence. Vetinari poked various grids of squares through the walls and filled them with what to Vimes looked like arbitrary numbers and letters.
"Opacity 10, no clip," he said.
Vimes looked at him curiously. The wall turned translucent so he could see Vetinari on the other side walking straight through them. He gave up trying to understand the thing.
"What about a court?" Vimes said.
"You know I despise royal courts," Vetinari said as he moved the numbers around.
"I'm talking about the other kind of court."
Vetinari paused in his calculations to face Vimes.
"There is already a sufficiently effective judiciary system in place."
"Yes, and I've agreed with most of your decisions. I can understand your methods and why you use them. In your public trials, you make it so the people approve of your verdict. You can get what you want without using your powers as a tyrant. Basically you have a system which can be taught to another."
Vetinari emerged from the semitransparent grid.
"You're saying that I should share my thinking process when sentencing criminals. You overestimate the collective IQ of the city, Vimes. If I spent time explaining things to everyone then I would never get anything done."
"I meant just one person. If they use the same steps as you do then the same decision can be made without your direct influence. If you gave that person the power to decide in your stead, then you will get the same result without having to be there personally."
"The illusion of free will. That's a surprisingly manipulative idea coming from you."
"You're a bad influence on me, sir, but in this situation you'll have to surrender some of your authority. Plus, you would have to work closely with that person. You'll be forced to be friendly or else the people will worry about the city splitting up. You would need equal power."
"I assure you Vimes we are equal already… after this at least. However granting you more control over my city will not—"
Vetinari's world flared white hot with a sudden spike of anger that his defenses were still too weak to hold back. He roughly shoved Vimes through the walls of his creation.
"Tell me you did not just suggest the formation of a diarchy!" The threat in his voice was perfectly clear.
The walls that surrounded Vimes started to glow brightly. The blinding light scorched his eyes and he reflexively drew his own anger out. The comforting darkness kept him safe from the light's influence. He stood resolutely in his cloak of night and did not let the fear overtake him. As he passed through the walls the world gradually darkened back to its neutral state.
"What the hell was that for?" Vimes shouted.
Vetinari however was not paying him any attention. He stared sightlessly at the horizon as hazy images of people appeared in the streets going about their daily business. He moved his hand and they gradually sped up until they were barely visible. Every so often, Vimes could catch a snippet of color.
"Uh… alright, you have just officially reinstated yourself on my list of people to avoid at all costs."
Vetinari manipulated time backwards and forwards at fluctuating speeds. Vimes saw a disturbing smirk appear on his lips and everyone vanished. He paused to glance back at the Weaving Dark. Satisfied with her comfort, Vetinari moved his arms in a wide horizontal sweep. The whole palace morphed into a humongous set of what could be loosely described as bleachers. He checked on the Weaving Dark yet again. She was lazily leaning against the Summoning Dark's black misty body. They were having what seemed to be a one-sided discussion as the symbol of ancient evil casually sorted through the threads with its tail.
"I'm impressed," said Vetinari turning his attention to a clearly confused Vimes. "The Summoning Dark is more powerful than I first expected yet you have still retained your sanity. You are remarkably compatible."
Vetinari abruptly switched his focus back to the risers. He pointed at different seats and people appeared, each one composed of various colors and forms. Some of them had missing body parts. Others had little orbs of light orbiting around them. As Vimes stepped closer, he started to recognize the faces of prominent members of society all frozen in different positions and showing individual emotions.
The Weaving Dark looked up from her work. She and Vetinari exchanged words that were apparently a conversation but the meaning went straight over Vimes' head.
"Set 0, Start," she said briskly before returning to her work.
Suddenly the crowd of multicolored people started to change at a breakneck pace. They moved so quickly that Vimes couldn't keep track of who was where most of the time. The people duplicated themselves seemingly at random, their doubles flashing into existence higher up the steps. Vimes could hear various musical notes sound in correlation to undefined events. There was a single second of silence.
"Set 17, 38, 12, and 5," commanded the Weaving Dark. "Part red cold 66, First cap 29% towards 76%. 800 less less catch Group A-4."
A good portion of the people turned black. Vetinari cursed under his breath and continued the process. Every so often he would reset the stage and start again.
"You're not making this easy, Vimes."
"If it were easy then you would have done it already. By the way, are you going to explain this?"
Vetinari ignored the question. Vimes had expected this. After several minutes, the bleachers warped into an eye twisting three-dimensional shape that almost curved in on itself. There was an abrupt silence.
"Set 89, 64, 67, 97—" The Weaving Dark went quiet for a moment. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. "Really, Lucky? You're such a child!"
"Please, Sandy?"
"Don't call me that! I know you aren't—"
"I am."
The Weaving Dark looked at Vetinari suspiciously and slowly sat down again. She picked up her bobbins and sighed. She rattled of an exceptionally long string of incomprehensible conditions that seemed to go on for hours. When she finished only a tenth of the bleachers remained and the seats had populated in an odd diagonal pattern. A peculiar smile lit Vetinari's face.
"You're so stupid, Lucky," said the Weaving Dark.
"It will work."
"That doesn't make you any less stupid! I expect something in return for you wasting my time!"
Back in Sator Square, Moist was running out of ideas. Throwing around baseless political accusations was fun and all but what the crowd really wanted was a show. They wanted drama and they were going to get it. Lipwig dug in his heels and let his talents shine.
"And what if I did kidnap him? It's not like your husband meant much to you," he said pointing his finger directly at Sybil. "You've been cheating on him!"
The audience gasped but Sybil rolled her eyes. Seriously, is that all you could think of? All right then, you asked for it.
"And you would know about that, wouldn't you?" she insinuated. "Why don't you tell your fiancee all about it?"
"Don't you dare bring Adora into this!" shouted Moist.
The threat was genuine but Sybil ignored him. She turned the theatrics up to eleven.
"You can't just ignore that time we spent together," said Sybil.
The crowd made the kind of scandalous sound that's like ooooo but with a flourish at the end for emphasis.
Adora Bell Dearheart hadn't expected to become part of the action. She had been leisurely listening to Dorfl as he brought her up to speed but Sybil's words forced her to leave the sidelines. She split the crowd using intimidation alone. Dearheart wasn't what you would call an actress but she never needed to pretend when insulting someone.
"So it was you! Not satisfied with being duchess, are you? No, you want more, you power-hungry cunt!"
Sybil was taken aback by her sudden ferocity. She could almost feel the heat from Adora's pent up anger venting right at her.
"You don't deserve him, Dearheart! You can't care for him like I do." Sybil internally cringed at her own words.
"Moist doesn't need to be taken care of. He's not like your frail plum job brown nosing husband!"
Sybil put on her game face and transformed into full duchess mode.
"Don't talk about things you don't know about. If you were here more often you would have noticed Lipwig's unmet needs. Instead you go gallivanting around the disc searching for lifeless bumbling mud dolls! Don't you fancy one of them, Dearheart? You can alter their bodies any way you like. You can give them tongues to speak. Why not other parts, a little extra clay here and there? When you say you want him all night long, he can deliver. I bet he says he loves you and you've convinced yourself he means it."
"Dorfl."
"Yes Miss Dearheart?"
"Sing. Now."
"Please Don't Make Me Sing."
"Do it."
"But It's All An Act. Calling Them Will Escalate The Problem Unnecessarily."
"You better damn well sing or I'm assigning you to work in the alchemists guild as a kiln."
"You Would Not Do That."
Adora said a phrase in the ancient golem tongue. The fire in Dorfl's eyes faded. A sonorous melody echoed from inside. He stood in the song's epicenter as the sound traveled through the ground like an earthquake.
Lipwig snatched uselessly at Gladis' dress as she passed him to stand beside Dorfl. She added her own voice to the song, a modest ephemeral soprano.
Sybil took a few steps backwards. This was not what she intended to happen.
Damn, I went too far! This is supposed to be a distraction not a war! I don't want to create a situation worse than what would have happened if everyone knew the truth. Where the hell did Drumknott run off to? I need him. This is getting out of control. There has to be a balance of power, the illusion of a level playing field.
"Willikins, I'm going to need some backup firepower."
"Surely you don't mean that."
"I am dead serious. Go get the dragons from pen nine."
"Even Madame Cauliflower?"
"Especially Madame Cauliflower."
Vetinari's analysis had come to an ugly conclusion.
"Mr. King is illiterate. The guilds are incompetent. Mr. Lipwig is a maverick. You are indispensible and Sybil is remarkably versatile. As appointed leaders, a risky yet extremely effective possibility could be you, me, and Moist von Lipwig." Vetinari turned to Vimes with a disgusted look on his face. "We need a triumvirate." The words left Vetinari's mouth like morning halitosis.
"Three rulers?"
"You're forcing my hand, you magnificent bastard."
"I learned from the best."
Vimes glared at Vetinari in disapproval. He knew he wasn't forcing the Patrician to do anything. You're using me as a tool to pass the blame and justify your actions to the Weaving Dark.
Vetinari gave him a look that clearly conveyed, Yes, I am. Good job spotting that. Do you want a medal?
"The concept works in theory and I am quite confident in our abilities," said Vetinari ignoring the silent exchange. "A reevaluation of government would fit nicely into my plans. It's a brilliant idea that I could have overlooked. One thing gets in the way though. Your body is most likely dead."
"That's enough!" shouted Captain Carrot. "The Watch isn't going to let this argument go any further!"
Though Carrot's charisma would cool even the worst brawls, it was useless when up against the city's golem population that had responded to Dorfl's call. They held him and the rest of the Watch back so they would not intervene. Captain Carrot was in a tight spot. His duty was to protect the peace and he would do anything to fulfill that, but that was before there were golems disrupting it.
"Dorfl, make her call them off!"
"I Will Not."
"You are an officer of the Watch! That was not a request!"
Dearheart's ancient words echoed in Dorfl's head and tightened around what he liked to think of as his heart. The promise was never to be broken.
"It Is A Holy Day, Sir."
"I'm still not convinced about you, Mr. Dark. Multiple personality disorder is pretty common. Vimes has certainly experienced enough trauma to give anyone mental illness."
"I've thought of that for a long time and I'm pretty sure I'm not like that."
"Everyone says that."
"I mean it. I'm missing Vimes' childhood memories. I don't remember anything before he joined the Watch. I don't even know what forced him to create me. But I have a feeling that it had something to do with Keel's death."
"Oh not this again."
"I got to see some things that happened to Sam before I existed. I think I can understand why someone so young would require my services."
"It was a nasty battle but young Vimes wasn't really part of the action."
"It's not the battle that made him create me. It was probably the torture chambers that he had to search. When Sam was pretending to be John Keel, I got to see for the first time how his younger self looked when he saw the victims. He would have killed that torturer if Keel hadn't been there to stop him. When Keel died, maybe the teenaged Sam thought he would need someone to hold him back the next time since Keel wasn't there anymore. I think that's why he created me."
"Something like that is certainly fuel for PTSD."
"I'm not some trauma induced hallucination!"
"Oi can tell you right now he's real," said Mrs. Cake. "Oi 'ave no idear what he is but he's real."
"Now do you believe me? I'm not Sam."
"Fine, get on with the story then."
"I was weak at first and couldn't help him that much but I've grown so much stronger over the years because that's what Sam needed me to do. I've done my best, and I've even managed to work out a deal with the Summoning Dark."
"The Summoning Dark!" shouted Mrs. Cake. "Bloody hell, is that what that thing is? No wonder I 'ave such trouble seeing Vimes!"
"Vetinari has a Dark too, a little girl. I didn't catch her name."
"The Patrician called her the Weaving Dark. Oi'm not really sure though. It's 'ard to hear what they're sayin' in there. She seems to 'ave taken a liking to Vimes. She knows he's a good man."
The Guarding Dark turned his head away and shut his eyes. He slowly started to cry.
"I always took things for granted! I never thought about what would happen to me after Vimes died! I've lived my whole life trying to protect him, but now I feel so helpless…"
"So wait a second, Vimes is dead?" asked Lawn.
"No, he's just in Vetinari's head right now." Mrs. Cake told him.
The Guarding Dark looked at her with an expression of hope and disbelief.
"He's alive?"
"As far as Oi can tell."
"I thought he was… Thank you."
Vetinari and Vimes sat in silence for a while.
"You can feel it can't you?" said Vetinari.
"Feel what?"
Vetinari placed his hands together and stared off into the distance.
"You can feel the connection between you and me."
"I told you I'm not gay."
"You're ability to misconstrue everything I say amazes me."
Vimes tipped his head back. "I didn't misunderstand," he said. "I just don't want to talk about it."
"You're going to have to face it, Vimes. I don't even know what will happen to you when I wake. There is nowhere for you to go back to. I don't even think your body is still alive."
"It is."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I don't really know, but the little girl said that the Guarding Dark stayed behind. He's protected me from myself all these years. I trust him. He won't let me die."
Vetinari sighed internally. "Vimes, for all we know the Guarding Dark was destroyed with your mind. Even if your body is alive, there is no place for your soul to live."
Vimes stood up abruptly. He spun back around so he could look Vetinari in the eye.
"And you think I don't know that?" Vimes shouted with fury that threw the world around them into shadow. "I know how hopeless my situation is! I know that I don't have the skills or experience to find a way to fix this! I don't even know if there is a way to fix this! All I can do is trust that my friends and family can save me!"
"It eats at you," said the Patrician in a voice that revealed nothing. "You normally jump in to a problem and solve it as you go, and here you cannot even jump. You have to depend on others to save you and you hate it. You are completely vulnerable here."
Vimes scowled and didn't answer. The Patrician calmly rose to his feet.
"I torture people, Vimes," he said.
"You've certainly been torturing me for years."
The Patrician smirked and pulled Vimes' face close to his.
"I hurt them. I hear them scream. When I stand over them, I feel alive. I feel the thrill of primal power that is entirely different from the satisfaction of controlling the city. The scorpion pit is not just for show and right now you are defenseless."
Vimes stared directly into Vetinari's steely eyes.
"I know that feeling, sir… I don't like to admit it."
The Patrician slowly shook his head.
"The only difference between you and me is that I have no limitations. You took advantage of me when I was in your mind. What is stopping me from doing the same to you?"
Although he knew well that Vetinari could back up his words, Vimes didn't even flinch at the threat.
"You're stopping yourself."
Mrs. Cake sat with Dr. Lawn on the couch in the library. Young Sam was talking to the Guarding Dark about how weird it was that earthworms ate dirt but their poo was dirt too. It was one of his life's greatest mysteries. Lawn closed his eyes and sighed.
"So what needs to happen for things to not turn out disastrous?"
"This 'ole situation is already disastrous! When Vetinari wakes up, Vimes might get stuck in his 'ead!" she shouted.
"That would be interesting." Lawn answered sarcastically.
"No, it won't! Vetinari now 'as got four entities crowdin' his 'ead. There's only so far you can push someone's mind."
"Four personalities in one man? Yeah, the Patrician isn't going to get through this with his sanity intact. Actually, I've been questioning his sanity for years. Anyone who dares to try to govern Ankh-Morpork has got to be kooky."
"But they can't all stay in there," said Mrs. Cake. "Vimes is makin' memories. He's buildin' a mind inside someone else's body! He don't belong there and the two memories'll start fightin'. Vimes and Vetinari 'ave got big personalities and the Summoning Dark is no wallflower either. The Weaving Dark is so young. She could just up an' disappear."
"So there's literally a battle going on inside the Patrician's head?" Lawn got to his feet and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"If there ain't one now then there sure as 'ell will be."
"That's bull crap! Vimes is pretty much a dead man and Vetinari's going to become a blabbering idiot because that tit won't leave! Gods damn it! Sybil's going to blame this all on me!"
Lawn groaned in exasperation. It had been a long day and all he wanted was a chance to fire one of his nurses for no discernable reason. He stood with his forehead against the wall and tapped it by lulling his head a few times.
"Givin' yurself brain damage ain't helpin', Doc. What you gonna do?"
Dr. Lawn sighed fatalistically.
"I'm going to do what all great men do in times of stress: delegate."
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"Me? I don't even know where to start! I can barely move and I can't let go of Vetinari anyways. I've never been here and nothing makes sense and I just want to go home but it's not there anymore."
"It's not there?" shouted Mrs. Cake. "Oi thought Oi couldn't see it because Vetinari moved back to 'is own 'ead! Now you're sayin' you've destroyed Vimes' mind?"
"Lady Sybil will be unhappy about that," grumbled Dr. Lawn. "I'm going to have to leg it out of the city then."
"Wait," said the Guarding Dark. "It's not really gone just empty. The space is still there."
"But there ain't nothin' in it!"
"It's not quite the same. If his memories can be reconstructed then the city will return and I'll be able to go home. Sam needs to create a memory inside his own body but he can't because there isn't anything there for him to exist in while he creates the memory."
Dr. Lawn put a hand over her face in frustration.
"Don't you have his memories? Can't you rebuild his mind with that?"
"No, I keep on telling you I'm not Sam… or, I am, but I'm not the same. I can't restore his mind because it would be mine from my perspective. He would lose too much of himself. I'm not perfect. I can't remember everything that Sam thought was important. I just know what happened and what he was thinking at the time.
"Hold on, you can read Vimes' thoughts?" asked Dr. Lawn suddenly very interested.
"Normally I can but right now it's like he's disappeared."
"What does he think about me?"
"I… I don't think he'd want me to say."
"You're the one who thought he was dead. Just tell me."
"Well… he respects you in a way. Sam doesn't trust any other doctor but he still doesn't trust you. No, it's more like he trusts you more than other doctors, even Igor. What you did for him really changed his life. I know he too would remember that day perfectly clearly."
"So, you remember what happened?" interjected Mrs. Cake.
"Of course, I remember. I love Sam and I would never forget something so important."
"You remember everythin'?"
"Yes, I do, I… got quite caught up in his emotions." The Guarding Dark blushed.
"Well since you two are all cutesy lovey-dovey then start there." Dr. Lawn made a shot in the dark or at the dark if you think of it like that.
"Start what where?"
"He means you can rebuild that part of 'is mind since you're so close and you both remember that day the same," Mrs. Cake explained.
"But what if it's not the same?"
"You said yourself that your thoughts were smothered by the intensity of his emotions," said Dr. Lawn. "You and he were feeling the same thing. Just recreate the memory as you remember."
"But that's only one memory!"
"Meh, it's a start anyway," said Mrs. Cake. "It's gonna be a tiny mind but at least it's somethin' for Vimes to come back to… that is if he's comin' back."
The Guarding Dark grimaced. The thought of losing Sam was somehow physically painful and he didn't understand at all.
"I'll try. I want to help Sam but... um, how do I make a memory?"
"You don't know?" shouted Lawn.
"I'm not exactly human here alright! I don't know how you lot manage to exist in this hell let alone actually bother to remember any of it. Humans are crazy!"
"But you live in a human!"
"So what? You live in Ankh-Morpork."
Dr. Lawn couldn't argue that logic. Mrs. Cake filled in his pause.
"Memories don't just make 'emselves you know. Somethin' 'appens and then you remember it."
"But, I'm the one controlling Vimes's body right now so anything he hears would be stored in my memories not his."
"But you can share a memory," said Lawn. "When you tell a story then it gets created in someone else's mind"
"But that person gots to be listenin' and understandin' at the time. Vimes is neither. If anythin' the memory would appear in the Patrician's 'ead and that's just gonna make the problem worse."
"Maybe if I had a proper mind of my own then he could recreate his world there."
"You don't have a mind of your own?" said Dr. Lawn flatly. "You are just full of helpfulness."
"Hey, I'm just a Dark! My mind isn't good enough for Sam to stand in. It doesn't have all the elements that a human memory needs."
"Why not?" asked Dr. Lawn. This whole situation had been irking him from the start and the Guarding Dark's ignorance was stretching his patience to the limit.
"Um…"
"Have you ever tried it?"
"I've never had to."
"Well, you didn't think you could be controlling his body either but here you are," Lawn said in that singsong voice that upset adults use when talking to children. "You're not just a Dark anymore, you have a human body. You should be making human memories right now."
"I... uh…"
A malevolent smile spread across Dr. Lawn's face and he kicked the Guarding Dark's shin making him shout.
"Hey!" yelled Young Sam. His protests were thoroughly ignored.
"Ha, so you are making human memories. You remember pain. Let's see what other memories we could give you."
"I don't think I'm going to like this," whimpered the Guarding Dark.
Mrs. Cake stared at him with the same vicious smile Lawn that wore.
"See you're learnin' already. That feelin' in your body, that's what fear actually feels like."
"I know what fear feels like already," said the Guarding Dark in a feeble attempt to delay the inevitable.
"Each emotion has a corporal reaction associated with it," explained Dr. Lawn. "You don't really know fear by the emotion itself. You know fear when you piss your pants in horror."
"I get the feeling this is going to hurt."
"Removing the pillow was just the beginning. If you're going to make enough human memories for Vimes to come back to, then you are in for some nasty surprises. Maybe you'll appreciate Vimes better once we test out anger. Let's just say that there is a reason why you exist."
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Review please? Maybe?