'Father!' said Madame Butterfly.
'The Teacher,' everyone else exclaimed, still in gasp mode, and then as the words sank in they gasped again, for good measure.
'Yes, dearest daughter,' replied Twoflower.
'When you disappeared for so long I thought you were...'
'Dead too? It was always possible,' he replied. 'Ours was never a safe country, but now that you are in charge I'm sure that is all going to change. It is wonderful to see you again.
'But how rude of me,' Twoflower continued. 'Allow me to introduce Verence II, King of the kingdom of Lancre and Lei Ching, Cataloguer at the Palace Library.'
The other two revealees stepped forward and bowed. This is always a good move during interesting times.
Things were all happening too quickly. Madame Butterfly, formerly Pretty Butterfly, daughter of Twoflower and co-revolutionary with Rincewind was confused and losing control. This is a dangerous place for a supreme leader to be in. Who knew what unpredictable outcomes could arise? Verence did.
Verence made a good ruler because, in the main, he let the kingdom of Lancre rule itself. It takes great effort for leaders to come to this realisation. Aspiring leaders feel they have to model determination and decisiveness, despite the fact that a) the world is regularly indeterminate and rarely ever designed for decisive action b) it will lead to tears in the long run. There is a place for leadership. The secret lies in a softer touch and the art of manipulation. It's amazing what you can achieve when your intention becomes the idea of others.
Verence knew that Madame Butterfly has not yet reached this point and that Face was everything right at the moment. Even more important than truth, which could follow afterwards.
Face was a complex entity in the auriental culture. Face gave you standing. Face gave you power. Face took all your efforts to acquire and once you had it, even more energy to maintain. Face was fickle and could be lost in a heartbeat.
Verence whispered to Twoflower, who then turned to Madame Butterfly. 'Daughter,' he said, 'King Verence would like to address you, using me as an interpreter. Is this acceptable to you?'
The Chairman nodded. She may not have been happy with losing control but the public forum she had chosen for her performance had now become as much of a danger to her as to anybody else.
Verence began speaking, Twoflower translating as he went.
'King Verence wishes to extend his thanks for the opportunity to speak. He welcomes the newest government on the Disc to the world stage and looks forward to working with it on matters of mutual benefit and concern. Together we can achieve great things.
'He also understands that each government has the role and right to manage its own affairs, which is why he is speaking only in an advisory capacity, hoping to provide you with further evidence to inform your decision.'
This was fine diplomatic gobbledegook. The butter on the bread. This was all about Face and influence. Now for the meat on the sandwich.
'King Verence respects your concerns over the veracity of the evidence provided and wishes you to reconsider your view on the role of the Biads.'
Chairman Butterfly, shook her head. There was too much at stake to retreat now.
'King Verence understands the difficult situation you may find yourself in...'
'It is not the King's right to tell me how difficult my situation is, or to lecture me on right or wrong,' snapped Madame Butterfly.
Verence whispered hastily to Twoflower. 'The King apologises for giving this impression. He only wished to provide you with more facts, to assist you with your informed decision making.'
'I have seen no evidence of any further evidence,' Chairman Butterfly replied through tight lips. 'Just grand balloons filled with hot air.'
Twoflower nodded to Lei Ching, who stepped forward and bowed. 'Madame Chairman,' she began, 'I work in the Palace Library.'
'I am quite aware of that already.'
Lei Ching nodded, contritely. 'Libraries, good ones anyway, collect information, even if it does not always align with the politics of the day. Facts, Madame Chair, not propaganda.'
This was revolutionary talk. The thing about revolutions is that once a revolution has been successful the first thing it does is shut down further opportunities for revolution. Madame Butterfly knew this would have been not only accepted but expected form, but she was intrigued, and impressed. If circumstances were different she and the cataloguer could have exchanged places. Whatever the metaphorical cloth is that people are cut from, they came from the same role of material. Intrigue is one of the most underrated forces in the multiverse. At the right time and the right place it can change worlds. Staunchly ignoring the glare of the Godsfather she let the cataloguer continue. The world, for its part, watched and waited.
'You are right, Madame Chair, to treat the debate on what has unfolded in the jungle as hearsay only,' continued Lei Ching. 'What you need is further evidence. This I can provide.'
She reached into her robe and drew out a small piece of equipment. 'This is a recording device, imp powered. It was designed so we could record the stories of our people for future historians. One of our staff had accidentally left it in a certain room in the palace and it accidentally recorded a certain conversation between parties in this chamber that have a mutual interest in the downfall of the Gong and the clearing of the forest. Would you like me to play it for you?'
Like the battle that had unfolded in the jungle everything was poised on a knife edge. The leader of the Biads had had enough of this farce. He'd been happy with the earlier farce, of course, but this one was far more unpalatable. It was time to change course and courses. He stood up.
'This is an outrage, Madame Chair,' he snapped. 'I give you my word that there were no conversations. I make this statement publicly and that is enough. Do not stoop so low as to listen to this fake recording.'
Madame Butterfly was caught on the horns dilemma. Her private conversation with the Godsfather earlier had made it abundantly clear that she needed the support of the Biads for economic reasons. She had understood the political necessity and would have supported him, but now in one short statement he had laid his cards on the table. He had challenged her, in front of her people, and there was nothing she would rather do than bring him down to earth, or possibly under it. But, she needed economic strength if she was going to move the Republic onto the world stage ….
'Tell me Verence,' Nanny whispered sidling back. Nanny could sidle with the best of them, and was also highly skilled and frontal and backal approaches. 'Is there anything on that tape?'
Verence's lips barely parted. 'Nothing but a recipe for seafood paella,' he mumbled.
'Thought, so,' she replied softly. 'I can spot Boffo a mile off. It got the Godsfather good and proper though. Made him try and force that Butterfly person's hand. Not a smart move. She just needs some sort of escape route.'
It was at this point of decision-making paralysis that another figure stepped forward and, in line with all melodramatic expectations, threw back his hood. Here was a person that could give witches a lesson on stylish entries.
'Perhaps I can be of assistance, Madame Chairman,' said the tall, lean-to-the-point-of-starvation figure.
'Wondered when you'd get here,' said Nanny.
'No time like the present, Mrs Ogg,' the man replied and then turned to the Chairman. He gave the sort of short bow that both paid respect and established equality. 'We have not had the pleasure of meeting before,' he said in perfect Agatean, 'though our countries have increasingly been doing business together. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Havelock Vetinari, Patrician of Ankh Morpork. Nanny Ogg visited me some time ago and suggested I might be interested in paying a diplomatic visit.'
Soap operas don't yet exist on the Disc, though this may largely be to do with a general absence of soap and irregular ablutionary practices. If they did Madame Butterfly would have had the perfect description for what was unfolding around her. Feeling like a puppet in some grand production she no longer directed, she nodded in return.
'We rulers of countries appreciate the intricacies of internal power struggles and the emerging importance of good international relationships if we want our economies to thrive.'
The Patrician had taken the concept of speaking pointedly to new levels. Every word had an edge to it and there were enough points in that one statement to fill the most complicated of compasses.
'It would seem that you have entered into a commercial relationship with my city that has unfortunate consequences for the rainforest communities, and that as part of your journey down this path, you have had to make...uncomfortable alliances you feel are now necessary to maintain.'
The Patrician turned his gaze directly on the Godsfather. The leader of the Biad was not used to such consistent upstaging, but for the first time today he was uncomfortably aware a) for once he was in the company of someone even more powerful than him b) that someone would not hesitate to use that power.
It is said that it is worse to have an arrow aimed at you by a good person than a bad person. This is because bad people may gloat but a good person won't give you that chance. The Patrician didn't belong in either the good or bad camp. He did what needed to be done, and that is the most dangerous camp of all.
Then to his surprise the Patrician winked at him. The wink is the facial equivalent of the word but. The Godsfather's doubts had just found a tight little knot of certainty. The game was definitely afoot* and the wink told him he was still an important part of it. He sat down, making sure he did so in a casual but stylish fashion. In a way that said I am in total control of this moment and this decision. Face didn't just apply to Chairmen of Beneficial Republics.
* Most body parts get their turn in the sun. The game is afoot, you can leg it, get ahead, arm yourself, face the truth, nose something out and so on. But there are body parts, often important ones that never get their share of publicity. Next time you put your ear to the ground, peel your eyes or use the private regions of the anatomy to describe someone spare a thought for the duodenum and its overlooked friends.
'Ankh Morpork values its natural environment highly,' Vetinari continued.
Not its individual citizens, of course, who would support this view right up until the point when a dollar could be made out of it. This was the typical Ankhmorporkian citizen's approach to any moral decision, and one of the many reasons why the city needed the Patrician far more than it realised.
'We appreciate that the People's Beneficial Republic of Agatea would treat its countryside with the same due care. Of course, there is the whole mundane economic angle to consider. On my journey over here I have given this much thought and believe I have a viable solution. Without going into rather boring discussions that are best kept for private negotiations there are certain mineralogical opportunities that can be explored between our nations, under very strict controls.
'In addition, Ankh-Morpork can advise you on ways to handle your relationships with ... third parties ...to widespread benefit. As part of the discussions Ankh-Morpork would expect the charges against the Gong to be dropped and replaced by a thorough and independent investigation of what has unfolded here in these past weeks.'
The Patrician paused and somehow or other managed to give the impression he was surveying the room even though his eyes never left those of the Chairman.
'This is a key moment in time for the future of our countries, Madame Chair. I have travelled considerable distance to be here at incredible haste, possible only through the assistance of our resident wizards, and have placed many important issues on hold. We lead busy lives, but it is a small price to pay for the privilege of being there at the turning of the tide and playing our part in making it happen.
'There is a common misconception that leaders have to be decisive. Some of the worst leaders the Disc has seen have been its most decisive. It is not the strength of the decision that matters, it is its wisdom. Great leadership is built not on being decisive but on good decision making. I give you that opportunity for great leadership.'
There it was. It's cliched to say the fate of nations hung in the air. The fate of nations hangs in the air every day, but it was true that the Patrician had placed the shape of this fate at the feet of Madame Butterfly. The fact that he'd done it in a way that seemed to give the Chairman very little choice, whilst at the same time implying that any negative outcomes of taking a different path would be totally the fault of the Chairman ... and, further, that the Patrician had already figured out what these negative outcomes may look like and was probably heavily involved in most of them was just in the nature of politics – at least when the Patrician had skin in the game. In this aspect, and only this aspect, the Patrician had developed a homeopathic approach to threat. The less evidence of the threat, the more potent its effect appeared to be. There was hardly any direct threat in the Patrician's offer, which was exactly what made it so dangerous.
Madame Butterfly turned her attention to the other members of the People's Committee who sat on the panel. After some urgent whispering the Chairman turned to face the room.
'The People's Committee finds the terms of your offer acceptable ... subject to further discussion of the finer details. This discussion will be held in private due to the sensitivity of its nature. The meeting will take place tomorrow morning to allow all parties to gather their thoughts.'
This was the first salvo in negotiations. Negotiations is just a fancy way of saying haggling and subject to is just a fancy way of telling you that everything is being done the fancy way. Fancy is also another way of implying expensive. Fancy that?
'And the charges against the Gong are now formally dropped. He is free to go.'
The crowd cheered. The Patrician knew it would have also cheered the passing of some terminal sentence on the Gong, if things had gone down that path. Agatea had ceased to be an Empire where people could be executed on a whim, or when they missed the appropriate time to cheer. In theory, it was now a republic where the people could choose to cheer, or not, but theory isn't practice and old habits die hard. The people may have had the right, technically, not to cheer, but they weren't sure the People were on the same page yet. So you cheered and got on with living.
They would have cheered in Ankh Morpork too, he admitted. That would have been because they'd just seen a damn good show. Once you understand that the difference between absolute authority and democratic government can be as simple as setting up a good entertainment budget the world is the mollusc of your choice. The Patrician, naturally, dined on oysters every day, metaphorically speaking of course. Prephorically speaking he wouldn't dream of eating one. This wasn't because evil rulers were prone to eating oysters and he wanted to distance himself from evil. Vetinari was ambivalent about the concepts of good and evil. He did what was necessary. Of course, defining necessary could be an interesting moral question, but nonetheless he didn't subscribe to such labels. Besides, history would decide whether he was good or bad and the writing of that history would have more to do with the prevailing winds of the day than accuracy. He didn't eat oysters for the simple reason that he couldn't stand the taste of them.
There were many things you shouldn't do in regards to the Patrician. Mime artistry sits high on that list, right alongside jumping to conclusions.
Jahat didn't need to jump to conclusions. He was already there. Not that it was much of a jump and it was less of a conclusion and more of the bleeding obvious. Even a mayfly would consider his current life expectancy modest. Oh, it was possible his existence expectancy could go on for a while. There were ways you could keep a body going long after the spirit had died. This was not a comforting thought.
He couldn't just walk out the door and into the wide world. He'd had a lifetime of devious thinking behind him. It's what had given him everything up until this point, including, in a morally satisfying way, his downfall, and it was what was keeping him alive now.
Obviously they'd be covering the obvious places. And choosing somewhere they'd never think of was a one-in-a-lifetime mistake for beginners. If you can't see the flaws in being able to think of an unthinkable place and then presuming others can't you get what you deserve. The trick was to think of a thinkable place that just didn't grab the attention. One you reckon you'll come back to later and maybe you will and it will be too late, or maybe you won't. Never bet against certainties or million-to-one chances. And if you knew of a way to get out of that place that nobody else did, then happy days.
This approach had seen him walking back to his own chambers, an action above suspicion, but a last-minute turn to the left found him entering the chambers of the Gong.
He swept past the guards, who would have had no idea of what had unfolded. In truth, he hardly noticed them. Guards fitted more into the necessary-item-of-furniture category in his world. It wasn't that he de-humanised them out of malice, it was more that he'd never considered them as having a human status in the first place.
Nobody in the courts of the Agatean Empire trusted anyone else. The natural consequence of this was that everyone who was anyone and wanted to stay anyone, as opposed to being terminally no one, had an escape route. Of course the Gong has one. Jahat has found it years ago. One of his smartest moves had been to hide it before the Gong had appeared. The concealed door opened into a narrow tunnel that led into the back streets of Weizhi. He'd had to cover it up, of course. The less escape routes the Gong had the better for his own plans. He'd needed something that couldn't be moved easily. In the market one day he'd come across a curious old store he'd have sworn hadn't been there before. It sold the strangest assortment of items he'd ever seen, including a heavy old wardrobe containing, of all things, winter coats. It was perfect. The owner, who was as peculiar as the wares he was selling, told him he'd acquired it from some mansion owned by an old man before the mansion was mysteriously destroyed. Jahat had purchased it straight away, which was fortunate because the next time he went back the shop was gone*.
* There are magical shops that roam the universal, presumably for good marketing and taxation purposes, or because they are cursed. It's possibly a fine line between the two options, as any small business operator might claim when customers are scarce. Whatever the cause, tread carefully. There is no more appropriate place to remember caveat emptor. Beware of any shop that advertises bric-a-brac. Chances are it's one of these and you'll never get the opportunity to return the item which may, for example, contain, an unexpected wormhole or an unwanted creature with more teeth than you find on the average saw.
The problem Jahat now had was that the wardrobe really was heavy and he was struggling to move it. To his sudden horror he heard voices in the corridor.
'Guards, did any of you see Jahat?'
The Gong! And he was asking the guards! Did the man have no sense of propriety? No wonder everything was falling apart. There was no hope of making good his escape so he did the only thing he could. He climbed inside the wardrobe and made his way back as far as he could.
To his surprise this turned out to be a lot further than expected.