"We have met the enemy and they are us," Albert Malich sighed.
SQUEAK.
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
Where they were standing, the eternal plain was not so much cracked as pockmarked and scratched from the after-effects of Albert's fireballs. Lu-Tze, in his imperturbable manner, swept up the ashes of this most recent battle.
"They're getting more creative, we must give them that," Vetinari said.
The latest batch of Auditors attempting to block their way had been more creative – to the limited extent that they were capable of. Instead of taking the shape of wolves again, they'd made themselves resemble the very individuals they were trying to stop. This hadn't created much in the way of confusion though, as their likenesses to Vetinari and company were superficial at best. The effort needed to maintain the new forms rendered the duplicating Auditors almost helpless. The Lu-Tze lookalikes had tripped over their own brooms while trying to display the most basic combat stances. The Susan lookalikes couldn't manage their own swords, which in any case were no match for the original. The imitation Greebos and Deaths of Rats fared even worse, squeaking, fleeing in terror and perishing at the scythe and claws of the real thing. Most unfortunate of all, though, were the un-Alberts who had been foolish enough to annoy a true wizard and a very few false 'After' Edwardses who had suffered the combined wrath of the entire group. None of the Auditors had been in their fake forms long enough to master the complexities of human physical speech, but a couple of them had gotten the rudiments of screaming down pat before they were destroyed. Now only the collective disgust they inspired – and some ashes – remained. No ghosts of Auditors had appeared, according to Susan, for which she seemed grateful.
"Death's too good for them," she'd whispered as the last pseudo-Edwards had vanished.
"We must be on the right track," Albert sniffled, rubbing eldritch soot off his hands onto his clothing and taking out a cigarette paper. "They're pulling out the stops now."
"Yes." Vetinari nodded and began walking more briskly. He alone had not had any doppelgangers to reflect back at him for some reason. "Difficult to believe beings of such infinite power have so little understanding in how to use it, and are so unable to handle us."
Because We do not understand You.
The Auditor voice in their heads caused the group's members to level their weapons and look for something to attack again, but no Auditor was visible. Then, slowly, a crimson mist coalesced into the vague, empty-robed shape of an Auditor, armless sleeves raised in a supplicant position. Greebo yowled, sprang at the misty figure and passed right through it with no apparent effect beyond a rough landing.
Our power is no more infinite than Our understanding. We do not understand Life.
"Don't understand Death, either." Albert clenched his hands as if preparing another fireball spell. "How do we know you ain't one of the grey blighters in disguise?"
Susan gestured for Albert to hold off on an assault.
"The grey Auditors don't have that much imagination for one thing," she told the rest. "They can't even do a passable us after spending so much time spying on us. If Auditors tried to make themselves look like rival Auditors or imitations, I think they'd screw up even worse somehow. Probably trip over their own robes or appear orange instead of red or something."
The empty crimson robe did not refute her assessment.
"But they're capable of learning, don't forget," Albert grumbled. "All at the same time too. What one knows, they all know. We haven't established what makes some of 'em different."
"Apart from less fear," Vetinari reminded him. "I think we can establish that any Auditor brave enough to appear before us alone right now is a cut braver than the rest of the grey ones, wouldn't you say?"
The crimson cowl nodded.
We are not They. They are not We. They are afraid. The One who leads Them is the most afraid.
"Afraid enough to be irrational?" Vetinari asked.
No immediate answer came. The empty cowl tilted as if considering, or conferring.
We are not sure what rational or irrational means, the mental voice responded. So, perhaps.
"Destroying the world because you don't understand it isn't rational," Susan said. "Reducing a painting to its component dust looking for beauty in the pile isn't rational."1
"So in some senses we may be facing an opponent that has much in common with humanity," Vetinari sighed. "I don't know if that's helpful or not."
At that moment, Lu-Tze the Sweeper came between Vetinari and the Auditor, pushing his broom.
"It is an interesting philosophical discussion," the Sweeper added. "Yet might one point out that time is of the essence?"
The empty cowl nodded.
The occasion of Unbalancing has nearly occurred. Soon it may become unstoppable.
"But 'may' is not the same thing as 'is.' There is still a chance. There are always chances, as someone once told me," Vetinari said.
"And they are not to be wasted." Lu-Tze whisked his broom back to its resting place on his shoulder and suddenly he was standing a hundred yards or more closer to where they'd been going. "Truly it is written, 'Move yer bloomin' arses!'" he shouted back at the group before disappearing again.
"Remind me to learn how he does that," Vetinari panted as he broke into a run after the Sweeper.
"If any of us are left," Albert shrugged, suddenly levitating and flying past both Vetinari and Susan.
"Show off," Susan growled and grabbed Vetinari by the wrist. "Come on!"
Vetinari had no ability to pull away from her grasp or resist as he felt the now familiar chill of Death's Hand on his flesh or on whatever was serving him as pseudo flesh in this place. He stared over at Susan and saw, to his horror, a series of cascading images of her – of the infant and young girl she had once been, of the woman he'd verbally sparred with, of someone middle-aged, elderly and ancient all at the same moment, someone or something ageless and eternal too as he found himself on Binky's back, in the saddle once again, but traveling much more swiftly than they had the first time.
"I CAN ONLY DO THIS WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE MOSTLY DEAD," Susan's cold VOICE informed him.
"And you're calling Albert a show off?" was the best retort Vetinari could manage. Am I seeing the way Death sees people right now? He wondered. If so, how can he care about any of us?
"BEATS ME," Susan Death answered.
"You can read my mind?"
"SORRY," she said, and something in that VOICE sounded contrite, a bit more like Susan.
Binky's gallop toward the unmoving Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse came to an abrupt halt so close to those figures that Vetinari found himself staring straight at War's substantial and armored gut. In another sense war – and false winter – were going on all around them as Kaos and his chariot team and a handful of crimson Auditors battled a multitude of grey Auditors and Auditor/wolves.
"If this is the final battle, did we at least come here with a battle plan?" Vetinari asked a dismounting Susan.
"I thought you had one!"
"Yes," Vetinari told her. "But it needs Albert and the Death of Rats and we seem to have left them behind."
Susan cursed through clenched teeth as she and Vetinari struggled to stay on a bucking Binky while a group of Auditor/wolves surrounded them.
"Terrific," she whispered to him. "So do you have any other plans?"
"Not to die, but I haven't been entirely successful at that so far either."
Allow Us to make you a complete failure.
The snapping, growling wolves began to close in and Binky dispatched one of them with a hoof kick. But it was clear these Auditors were made of sterner stuff than the previous ones, and they had learned how to bite. Vetinari drew both of his daggers and Susan drew the Sword.
"I can't say it's been a pleasure to have met you," Vetinari told her. "But it hasn't been an entire displeasure either."
Susan nodded.
"The same for me."
The Auditors leapt.
[* * * *]
1 See Terry Pratchett's Thief of Time.