Chapter eleven – at the HEM testing the case that doppelgangers
exist.
It was shortly after ten in the morning on the following day. Stibbons took a deep breath and addressed the assembled Wizards and guests.
"Thank you for attending, ladies and gentlemen. We are here today because we have the great honour of demonstrating the Roundworld Project to His Exellency the Agatean Ambassador. We also welcome representatives from the Guild of Archaeologists and Guild of Historians who will form part of the inter-disciplinary group, offering their professional skills to advise on aspects of the Project which lie within their areas of academic interest."
What Stibbons very carefully did not enunciate was that Ridcully, a habitual early riser despite the rigours of his night before, had awoken Stibbons at six with the imprecation "Come on, lad, let's be havin' you! I need your brains. We need to work through those interestin' insights you had at High Table last night, durin' the ambassador's reception!"
Groaning, Stibbons had struggled into his robe and pointy hat, to discover that Big Mad Drongo and other members of the research team had similarly been pressganged into early morning service.
Ridcully had strode into the HEM, bellowing "Good mornin', Mr HEX! Are you up and ready for some thinkin'? Because I need some answers!"
++GOOD MORNING, ARCH-CHANCELLOR++ PLEASE STATE YOUR QUERY++
"Rincewind. Who is temporarily unable to enter Roundworld. Which is a bloody nuisance and an irritation, as the smug devil's sniggerin' up his sleeve at me. Any answers?"
++STILL COMPUTING.++
Stibbons gathered his thoughts.
"HEX. I have a working hypothesis for your consideration. Last night, we discovered a few new facts about the wizard Rincewind that he has very carefully neglected to disclose. Over twenty years ago, during his travels round the Discworld, an emergency occurred where we believe he and a companion were temporarily removed from our universe into a parallel dimension in order to save their lives. When the emergency was over, they were returned to our local area of the space-time continuum. Circumstantial evidence suggests the host dimension was Roundworld, or something very like it. Yet the conundrum is that we did not initiate the Roundworld Project until a little over three years ago?"
++PLEASE PROVIDE FURTHER DETAIL ++ I MAY BE ABLE TO PROVE OR DISPROVE THE HYPOTHESIS ++ AT PRESENT, INSUFFICIENT DETAIL.
Stibbons and Ridcully went back over all they could remember about Twoflower's disclosure the previous night, until HEX's readout swished the quill pen to read
++COMPUTING++ STAND BY++
And the hourglass dropped and began turning.
"What's the dratted machine up to?" Ridcully hissed, in a penetrating stage whisper. The ear-trumpet that had previously belonged to Windle Poons twitched in their direction and the quill pen scratched:-
++THE DRATTED MACHINE IS TALKING TO THE PRIMITIVE COMPUTER INTELLIGENCES IN ROUNDWORLD ++ IT IS SEARCHING THEIR DATABANKS FOR REPORTS OF STRANGE AND ANOMOLOUS OCCURENCES ON BOARD CIVIL AIRLINERS IN THE ENGLISH-SPEAKING WORLD ++ THE DRATTED MACHINE HAS FOUND A LIST OF POSSIBILITIES ++ PLEASE REFER TO OMNISCOPE SCREEN++ PRINT-OUTS WILL FOLLOW++
"I think you hurt his feelings, sir" said Big Mad Adrian, reprovingly.
Ridcully's mouth opened and closed a couple of times.
"Er… sorry, that man" he said, patting the desktop fondly.
++ THINK NOTHING OF IT, ARCH-CHANCELLOR++
Stibbons read, doubtfully,
"A pilot with Russian state airline Aeroflot was grounded after seeing little green fairies dancing on the wings of his TU-122 airliner on a routine internal flight between Leningrad and Novosibersk. The company doctor who examined Captain Chernofski attributed it to his two bottles of vodka per day habit, said this was a little bit excessive, and recommended the Captain reduce his alcohol intake to one bottle a day…"1
"Not quite what we're looking for here, Hex" said Ridcully. "Think that could have been down to elves muckin' around there, Stibbons?"
Wait, sir…" Stibbons said, clutching Ridcully's sleeve. "Look at this one…"
The wizards were familiar enough with the concept of newspapers, thanks to the Ankh-Morpork Times. This one was headed PORT ARTHUR EXAMINER and datelined for June 24th, 1974.
NUCLEAR PROF HERO IN SKYJACKING TERROR!
Strange events on flight 501 out of Miami
Modest hero said he would do it again if he had to
The wizards read, jaws dropping. The photograph of Dr Rijnswand, with his long lean face, big worried eyes, and straggly red-blond hair and beard, was the icing on the cake of proof.
"That's him!" Ridcully whooped. "That's bloody Rincewind! We've got him!"
"Hmmm"… muttered Ponder, reading on. "Some passengers claimed to have seen a bizarre apparition of a wooden box with legs running down the aisle. This was later put down to a shared hallucination brought about by sudden decompression and the mental and emotional stress of falling for thirty-five thousand feet in an aircraft with a bomb on board. Sir! Even his bloody LUGGAGE crossed dimensions! "
"HEX! Print-out and scan, if you please!" barked Ridcully. As the demon in the iconograph was lowered and focused to scan and copy the image on the omniscope2, the wizards conferred.
"This chap is the absolute dead spittin' image of Rincewind!" Ridcully declared. So assumin' Rincewind hasn't been living some secret second life in there…"
"Hardly, Archchancellor"
"Then he has a double on Roundworld."
++ A DOPPELGANGER ++
"Say again?"
++ IT IS AN OLD, OLD, WORD, DESIGNATING A STATE OR CONDITION WHERE IDENTICAL DUPLICATES COME INTO BEING ++ NORMALLY THEY ARE UNAWARE OF EACH OTHER'S PRESENCE, BUT IN TIMES OF GREAT EMOTIONAL STRESS, DURESS, OR ELATION THE BARRIERS MAY BREAK DOWN AND THEY WILL LEAK INTO EACH OTHER'S PYSCHIC SPACE ++ I HYPOTHESISE THAT OUR RINCEWIND AND THE RIJNSWAND OF THE ROUNDWORLD ARE SO LINKED ++
Ridcully and Stibbons looked at each other.
"Then… if the psychic space on Roundworld, into which we usually send Rincewind, is occupied by his…doppelganger… " Stibbons said, slowly working it out, "it means that in normal circumstances, there is no place for Rincewind, and he is bounced back out again."
++ I SO HYPOTHESISE.++
++ NEW INFORMATION ++
++ NEW INFORMATION ++
"Yes, man?" Ridcully barked, impatiently.
++ I HAVE THE PASSENGER MANIFEST FOR FLIGHT 501 OUT OF MIAMI ON THE 23RD JUNE 1974 ++
++ THAT IS, THE LIST OF HUMANS ABOARD THAT AIRCRAFT++ IT ALSO LISTS A JACK ZWEIBLUMEN ++
Stibbons worked it out.
"Twoflower? Rincewind's traveling companion? The ambassador?"
++ HIS DOPPELGANGER, CERTAINLY ++ THIS HYPOTHESIS MAY NOW BE TESTED, NOW THAT THERE IS A SECOND ++
Ridcully grinned. "Will it cause a diplomatic incident, d'you think, Stibbons, if we get Mr Ambassador to suit up and be our guinea-pig?"
"Not at all, sir. He's a travelling man, after all. He'd jump at the chance!"
And now, later in the morning, they are all here. Stibbons is running through the standard omniscope presentation, all light and sound, of the formation and history of the Roundworld, although he has deliberately omitted the creation moment where the Dean put his fingers inside and waggled them around a bit. While the civic dignitaries are marvelling at the PR presentation, Ridcully has what for him is a discreet chat with an errant wizard.
"Gnnnh…" Rincewind spluttered, as the Arch-chancellor slammed him into the wall by his collar.
"Don't run away, laddie. You're bloody buggeringly well rumbled!"
Ridcully brandished the morning's printouts from HEX in front of Rincewind's nose.
"Care to explain?"
Rincewind goggled at the face that was his. The name that was almost his. The account of the Luggage bursting into existence and causing pandemonium on board a civil flight from Miami to Texas.
The helpfully provided map of the journey showing the bulk of it was across a sea with a nearly regular, circular, coast, as if an even bite had been taken out of the land. It all fitted.
"Well, there was this time with Twoflower when…" and he told the story as fully as he could. Ridcully, who knew when to ease the pressure, nodded and said "Now don't you feel so much better for telling your academic mentor!"
"And that's it?"
"No, we're going to perform a little scientific experiment. Walk this way!"
I knew it, thought Rincewind. One ecstatically good dream last night, and now real life comes in like an unlicenced thief with a cudgel. Back to normal, then.
He followed Ridcully, meekly. He could see no alternative.
1 This actually happened. I'm not making this one up!
2 Advertising slogan: PictImp 2000 – we do away with brushes! Fast, accurate, pointilliste, finger-painting! Digital iconography, the modern way to a perfect picture!