It would be speaking with a lot of good will if one would continue to call whatever the faculty of the Unseen University was doing 'waiting'.
Most of them were still lying in their beds or, as it was the case with the Egregious Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography, under the bed. Not under his own, mind you.
While the old saying went that hiding in plain sight will lead to certain safety Rincewind had little trust in the idea that hiding in his own room would spare him from the travel to Pseudopolis.
Especially since the bledlows were, well, simple enough to not think complicated thoughts such as 'He'd never hide in his own study.'
Therefore Rincewind had picked a room as far away from his own study as the dimensions of the University in this reality allowed it. Without leaving one's own reality that is.
The idea of running into an alternate version of himself made Rincewind's flesh creep.
Today this chamber was possibly the one on the border to another here-and-now.
What had the plaque on the door read?
'Professor W.A. Scuffle-Brook, Lecturer of Sinuous Actuality and Co-Ordinated Performances'
In the depths of Rincewind's head something stirred.
The blurry memory of a face and a voice paired with the sneaking uncertainty of whether or not that man actually existed. Others may have continued to wonder about this, especially since there was a recalling of having met Mr. Scuffle-Brook more often than once, even if the whens, wheres and whys were in the air, but Rincewind preferred to concentrate on hiding from the bledlows.
But slowly and steadily he was not feeling well with that either. They were taking too long, which, for some reason was not a good thing. Oh, there was no doubt that they'd find him sooner or later, but said later started to seem uncharacteristically long.
There were two possibilities and Rincewind didn't like either of them.
One: While he was hiding this part of the campus slipped into a different reality.
Two: Something really, really nasty was going on outside.
Rincewind knew that getting up to quickly peek out of the room was a horrible bad idea, but he had to see what was going on to decide whether to start running or crawl back under the bed and continue hiding.
He tip-toed over to the door, slowly and silently opened it, held a piece of paper out to see if it was remotely safe to poke one's head out into the corridor and did so after a moment.
To discover which of the possibilities was the correct one.
It was Three: They were waiting outside the room for him to finally come out.
Skazz looked up along the walls off the HEM as if facing, well, something that inspired humble and honest awe. It was hard to tell what said something was with Skazz.
As the faculty was still in the process of waking up or being woken he and Ponder had decided they could very well say 'Hello' to Hex.
"Ponster?" Sebastian nudged the smaller man next to him after that one had unlocked the door.
"Yes?"
"Another thing: Hex can't really talk, can he? I mean...aside from..." Skazz gestured, seemingly glancing sideways if anyone was listening who shouldn't be listening.
"No. When I started musing about that possibility," Ponder frowned briefly, "Hex decided that if he's to talk outside of the known circumstances he'd very well do so with an accent."
"The hell?" Tugging his hair behind the ears, Skazz grinned, bemused. "Why?"
"Just 'cause, I guess," shrugged Stibbons, entering the building.
"Which did he want to pick?"
"What?"
"Which accent?"
"He didn't say which accent. But knowing him I'd say that one from near Uberwald where each 'ch' sounds as if you're coughing up something nasty. I'd rather continue waiting for Hex to finish writing an answer than constantly worrying that the sound comes from some part breaking off."
"Maybe Hex thinks that accent sexy."
Ponder stopped dead and looked up at his student with a face that indicated that his brain just stumbled.
"Sexy?" he croaked, "Hex is not able...not supposed to find anything sexy."
"Says you."
There was a grumble from Ponder which quickly subsided once the almost frantic sound that came from Hex the moment the two men stepped into the room.
+++Skazz!+++, the writing read and something about it added an invisible colon and capital 'D' to the short message.
Skazz smiled broadly, patting Hex' keyboard as if patting a child's head.
"Hello there, Hex."
Inwardly a little part of Ponder shuddered. So many years and he still hadn't gotten used to Hex' behaviour at times. And then there was of course...
His view travelled over the gallimaufry that formed the Thinking Engine, coming to rest at a small area through which one could spot a dim, icy blue and octarine light shimmering somewhere behind all the tube and pipes and bits and parts. One had to know where to look, of course. And Ponder knew it.
He let a deep, long sigh escape his throat, and closed the mental storage boxes of memories again before looking back at his student.
"I think we should head over to the Uncommon Room now."
"Can we head to the storage room first?"
"Why?" The image of said room sprung to Stibbon's mind, and his thoughts wandered over the various items in there till a specific memory answered the question.
"No, Sebastian. No!" he protested.
Skazz pouted.
"Why not? It would work, wouldn't it?"
"Of course it would work, but it's...it's..." Ponder searched for the best word. He had some adjectives waiting, but none seemed to be fully fitting. "It's...unethical." That word didn't seem fully right, but what should one call an approach that either ends in a success concerning Pseudopolis' problem or in blowing the chicken to pieces? Which, taking it literally would be a success too, but a far messier one.
"We'll find a better way," Stibbons continued, making a nod that indicated his words were final.
"And as I said, Skazz, we should go now."
Over in the Uncommon Room the faculty slowly gathered, and few faces gave the impression that the persons they belonged to looked forward to the travel. At least at this early hour. Later in the day, perhaps, but now? It was almost time for lunch. Much too early to go anywhere. Especially anywhere that is that far from home.
The one who possibly disliked the idea the most, though, had no chance of avoiding the trip.
As he, right now, was presented to the Archchancellor by two bledlows.
"Found 'im back in Professor..." one bledlow started but then paused, looking a bit puzzled.
"Scuffle-Brook, I think was the name," his colleague helped.
"Aye. Professor Scuffle-Brook's study, sir."
"Scuffle-Brook?" Ridcully drew a face that indicated he shared the same sentiments as the others upon that name wandering through his head. He looked to the side to find the rest of the present faculty twittering unsuspiciously with each other. For a moment the Archchancellor wondered whether or not to interrupt them, when the feeling that none of them might have an idea about that man either snuck up on him.
With a brief huff he turned his attention back to the bledlows.
"Thank you for your service, gentlemen, but I think you can let Professor Rincewind go now. The way you were holding him surely made him too dizzy to run."
Rincewind was dropped to the ground, moaned and, despite the world spinning beneath and around him, tried to make his escape by crawling the moment the bledlows had left.
"Now will you stop that?" Ridcully said, putting his foot onto the creeping wizard's robes.
"Do not want..." that one managed and rolled onto his back.
"It's only a small trip to Pseudopolis."
"It's so far away."
"You've travelled further away from home, Rincewind."
"No, sir," Rincewind protested as Ridcully pulled his foot free from the robe. "I travelled home from further away."
Ridcully shook his head and helped Rincewind up.
"It's only a day's worth of travel away," he said.
"It's far less than that in other realities, sir. I asked Ponder Stibbons about that."
"In other realities you have also died already in very horrible, gruesome and painful ways. Would you really prefer that?"
"...No, sir."
Rincewind sighed. Sometimes it was rather unsettling how much of the stuff Stibbons was saying seemed to actually stay in the Archchanellor's head.
"But," he tried, "someone has to stay here to keep things running here."
He paused, saw Ridcully's doubting expression and decided that volunteering to stay behind to keep the university working was very much the worse choice. Much to his relief Ponder Stibbons, curiously followed by a student, walked into the room that very second, drawing everyone else's attention.
Granted, it was more likely that the student did that.
After all, he was a student in the Uncommon Room.
"Mister Stibbons, are you aware you brought a student in here?" the Lecturer in Recent Runes inquired, having found his voice again first.
"Yes. This is Mister Sebastian Courtsbridge," Ponder introduced his student to the rest of the faculty. At least those that didn't knew Skazz yet. "He will accompany us to Pseudopolis."
Runes eyed the gangly lad for a moment before shaking his head at the younger wizard.
"But really, Stibbons. A student?"
Ponder sighed lowly, pushed his glasses into place again and looked up at Skazz, who seemed to not be dwelling in the here-and-now mentally at the moment. Or was, and Ponder hoped it was that, holding back a snappy comment.
"My, look who it is," a voice sounded, apparently pulling the student from his thoughts and drawing the attention of the nearby wizards.
"Now there's a heap of hair I thought I'd never see again," Dr Hix spoke, approaching. "How are you, lad?"
"Fine, sir. Thanks." A broad grin spread behind the curtain of hair, causing Ponder to raise a brow.
"You know each other already?" he asked, noticing Runes shared his surprise.
"Nodding acquaintance," Hix explained. "Your student here once hexed a rubber-allergy on some of my lads. Impressively evil deed; my regards."
Ponder blinked in brief confusion. That trick sounded mean to him, but not necessarily 'impressively evil'. Granted, as most of the equipment used in the PMC-Department was made from rubber nowadays it was nasty and likely bothersome to Dr Hix's students, but weren't they often wearing gloves with their outfit to begi...That moment Ponder actually understood it.
"Sebastian!" he then burst out, his cheeks burning.
Skazz sniggered.
"Fine lad you have there," the Head of the Department of Post-Mortem Communications continued, patting Stibbons on the shoulder. "Can make someone in my position almost jealous. You're certain you don't want to change courses, Mister Courtsbridge?"
"No, sir, I am happier at the HEM. Aside from that, I'm not into dead people."
Hix tilted his head, grinning after a moment:
"That is one old quip if I ever heard one."
"Hard to resist them, sir."
Silently and frowning Ponder shuffled away, letting himself slump into one of the huge armchairs.
"Want to stay behind too?" Rincewind, who let himself fall into the chair next to Ponder's after having to give in on coming along, sighed.
"Of course not," said Ponder, waving the servant for something to drink.
"Willing to find a way so I can stay here?"
Ponder glared and downed the brandy that had just been handed to him.
"Not happy with your decision of bringing Skazz along?" Rincewind carefully tried after a moment.
"Mhn? Oh, no, it's not that. I know I'm in for headaches with him."
"And a lot of blushing. Never saw you get red that often in a row before."
"You know him," answered the younger wizard, looking at his empty glass. "No, it's the whole business with Hex and Adrian's machine that worries me."
"I know I'll regret asking," Rincewind said, looking up at the ceiling while Ponder ordered another drink, "but what about it?"
"That's the problem. I'm not sure. It's just a horrible feeling that something is wrong. Outstandingly wrong."
Next to him Rincewind frowned.
"Why, thank you. You just ruined my last chance to get out of this."
Nipping on his next glass of brandy Stibbons looked at his colleague from the corner of his eyes.
"Fine, fine," he then said, slowly swirling his glass, "I'll try to arrange something. I doubt you'll be of help anyway."
Rincewind looked Ponder up and down, uncertain whether to be relieved or offended by that. But before he could decide the younger wizard had slammed his glass onto a side-table, jumped from his seat, and rushed over to his student, who, by now, was obviously quarrelling with Professor Macarona.
"Actually I'm just not impressed," was the first thing Ponder heard from Skazz as he came closer to the two men. "Only two of them titles come from actually genuine arcane institutes. Two other appear to be only there 'cause someone wanted to kiss up t' yer family. And the rest... Let me put it like this: I'm not even graduated and I already got me 'MfG' from one of those."
"Sebastian!" Ponder finally and harshly interrupted. "That's enough!"
The student grumbled and buried his hands in his trousers' pockets.
"I have to apologise for Sebastian," Ponder started, watching Skazz flounce off in a huff.
"What's his problem? Felt as if he holds a grudge against me."
"Not against you personally, but..."
"But?" Macarona paused, "Oh, I see. It is because of that."
With his cheeks slightly reddening again Ponder looked around to make sure that no one else was within hearing range.
"Actually," he whispered, "Yes and no."
"Yes AND no? How can that be at such a topic?"
"He never told me any details." Ponder shrugged, his cheeks flushing again. "I merely know that he has something against people who..."
"Oh, that's just typical."
"No, it's not that. As said, it's yes and no." Once more he sighed deeply, "Well, I think I can tell you of all people: Sebastian actually had a long, loving relationship with Adrian Turnipseed."
The genuan wizard blinked in surprise before the annoyance and disgust in his face made place for a compassionate look.
"The poor lad," he sighed. "He must be heartbroken."
"I really can't tell."
"If he is I think I can understand and forgive his behaviour. Ah well, I shall see if I can't help that."
Ponder felt like his ears were burning.
Over the years he had evolved a rather vivid imagination and therefore decided to distract himself by changing the topic.
"How's your knee?" he babbled.
"Much better than that curious article made it sound like, thank you. But, oh dear, you should see the lovely flowers I received from someone who worried for my welfare. It's almost a pity they were sent due to an exaggerated report."
Just nodding, still trying to get the images from his head, Ponder decided to watch his student talk to the Archchancellor, who, during that talk, occasionally glanced over at him. Something that worried the Head of the HEM Department quite a bit. And for that bit of distraction Stibbons was thankful right now.
What he wasn't so thankful for was that Ridcully suddenly waved him over.
"Stibbons, your lad here is telling me you got something in your -What was that fancy word again? - repertoire that could solve the poultry problem in a very spectacular way."
Ponder sent a brief glare at Skazz, who looked like the embodiment of innocence at the moment.
"I have to admit, sir, there's indeed something."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Ridcully rubbed his hands, "I bet Henry and his lads haven't found a way to solve the problem yet. The more spectacular ours will be the better."
"But, sir..." Ponder attempted to protest.
"But what, Stibbons? If I understood young Courtsbridge correctly it is working and it will be easy to bring it along."
A frown followed from the youngest member of the faculty, before a final straw emerged from his mind.
"But there won't be a trophy left if we'd use the device in question."
That seemed to work. The Archchancellor appeared to be pondering these words and for a moment there was a glimpse of hope for the youngest member of the faculty.
"Naw," Ridcully then shattered that bit of hope, "We have someone from the Times with us. The iconograph of Henry's reaction to that thing succeeding where he failed will be a much more satisfying trophy."
Again Ponder looked past the Archchancellor, sending a scolding glare at his student. Skazz just shrugged.
"Sir, I have to protest," Stibbons dared. If he could stand up to the Archchancellor in a different reality he could very well try it here too, "It his highly unethical and there is no guarantee that it will work as Skazz might have described it. Aside from that it will delay our departure as at first I'd...we'd have to adjust the spells for it."
"Your student already informed me about that, Stibbons. He also claims all the adjustments and calculations could be done during the travel."
Again Ponder glared over at the student wizard, before sighing and giving in.
"Fine," he said.
"Capital." Ridcully patted him heavy on the back, nearly knocking him over. "Go and get that thing then."
With an annoyed grimace on his face Stibbons nodded and waved his student to follow.
"What was that for?" He hissed the moment they left the Uncommon Room just as the Archchancellor started to call for the other wizards' attention to get the last things sorted.
"What was what for?" Skazz asked innocently.
"You know exactly what I mean, Sebastian. Why did you tell the Archchancellor about it? Didn't I already say we're NOT going to bring it along?"
"Well, now we will."
Stopping dead in his tracks, Ponder turned and glared at the student.
"This isn't funny, Sebastian."
Skazz raised his hands in defence.
"I'm fully aware. And, man, calm down. I didn't tell him anything on purpose. What do you think of me?"
"That you are a loudmouth and that it would be typically for you to try and get back on me for scolding you!"
"What?" Now Skazz seemed utterly offended, "For that? Ponder, yer ought t' know me better. The Archchancellor asked me for my opinion on how to handle things and I told him what was possible and what you were thinking. I just answered in all 'onesty."
The two young men glared at each other.
The scene would have had a greater effect if there would have been an eerie silence in the corridor, instead of the constant noise of arguments coming from the Uncommon Room, a sheep strolling down the path, several servants passing by either pushing trolleys with food or carrying baskets with clean laundry and chatting with each other when they came in groups and of course the sound of students somewhere nearby yet far enough away to not be seen. Which didn't keep them from watching the scene.
"Awkward, isn't it?" Skazz finally broke the silence between Ponder and him.
"Yes," the other answered after a pause, scratching his arm absent-mindedly.
"Stress?"
"A lot of it." With a low frown Ponder took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "It's so much at once. Adrian, Pseudopolis, football, the article, my work here..."
"I didn't know things upset you this much," Skazz mumbled, sounding as if trying to apologise to the world in general, "If I had I would have kept quiet about that thing."
"But you did tell him."
"As I said: he asked, I answered. I wouldn't have if I'd have known it'll get you closer to breaking point."
Ignoring the servants and students that had been staring curious at them Stibbons cleared his throat and straightened his clothes.
"It's not breaking point yet. Only a major headache. Once this is over I shall take a day off and avail myself ofthe university's sauna and spa."
Skazz tilted his head and moved to follow Ponder down the corridor: "Since when do we have those?"
"Since the pool was renovated."
The student smacked his lips and grinned as an idea struck him.
"'Cause the school's swimming team needed a place to relax?" he purred.
"Precisely."
The package Stibbons and his student had loaded onto one of the coaches had attracted several odd views. After all, it seemed as if they were taking a six-foot-long tube with them. Whatever was wrapped up in thick cloth there increased the fare far enough to make the Archchancellor miraculously decide that it would very well be enough if only the qualified members of the faculty came along while the rest got to stay home.
But much to Rincewind's annoyance he was counted as a qualified member.
So now he sat grumbling in the coach, refusing to speak a single word aside from miffed grumbling.
On the opposite side of the coach Ponder Stibbons was doing several thaumaturgic calculations or at least was trying to as right next to him the Archchancellor snored loudly. And next to Rincewind the student wizard was holding his ears.
They had passed the city gates quite a while ago already and still Rincewind seriously considered jumping out of the coach and heading back home.
But knowing his luck this would not work as either someone would hold him back, possibly Ridcully even waking up just in time to do that, or he'd be run over -or worse, picked up- by the coach carrying the rest of the group driving behind them.
And then there was, of course, something the Librarian -who got to stay home as he needed to keep an eye on the library as several books had been acting odd lately- had pointed out:
If Rincewind would go to Pseudopolis now, he'd have 'Giant Chicken' off his list of 'Possibly, if not most certainly, deadly encounters.'
"Better he sleeps now than when we're trying to," Stibbons whispered suddenly and nodded towards the Archchancellor, before chewing thoughtfully on his pencil.
"How's it going?" Skazz asked, leaning forward to look at Ponder's writings.
"Slow. It was easier when it was sheep."
Rincewind looked up. "Sheep?"
"We had a similar problem once. You remember the sheep invasion, as the student body called it?"
The Egregious Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography leaned back, trying to remember.
"Oh, that," he finally said. "Have you actually found all of them by now?"
"No." Ponder looked back down at his calculations, erasing a line and furrowing his brow.
"I wish we'd had the exact size of that chicken." He tapped the pencil onto the paper a few times. He hated it, but he had to go with approximate values.
"Well, as long as the maximum deviation from the actual value is less than twenty-seven-point- three percent," he started all of a sudden, rather talking to himself than to the two other men that were listening, "the chances for unforeseen violent expansion should be below four-point-one..."
While he continued Rincewind leaned towards the student, looking hopelessly lost.
"If Ponster guessed the chicken's size correctly it won't explode so easily when we use our little baby on it," Skazz answered, earning a brief glare from Stibbons.
"What? I'm just translating."
Ponder frowned at the words and stuffed his notes back into his bag.
"I should work on this once my head stops feeling like a wet sponge," he moaned and rubbed his temples.
"Professor Rincewind?" the student babbled that very second, causing Rincewind to lean away a bit.
"Yes...?"
"Could you switch seats with Ponster?" Sebastian cracked his knuckles, "He needs a massage."
Rincewind raised a brow. And raised it even further as he saw Stibbons blushing.
"Oh, Ponster," the student smiled. "It's only something to have you relax a bit. You need it. We'll be travelling for quite some time."
"I can wait till we're stopping for a break."
"And it would be something to kill time. Besides, you keep rubbing your neck, I saw that."
Letting his eyes wander from his student, who seemed eager, to Rincewind, who seemed lost again, and back, Ponder gave in with a deep sigh, rising from his seat.
"Fine, fine."
He switched seats with Rincewind and turned his back at the student.
What followed then caused Rincewind to stare at the two younger men in honest amazement. He had seen many things, but up to that point he would have never guessed such thing as what he just witnessed was possible by a simple massage in the neck area.
Well, at least young Stibbons was relaxed and sleeping, his head resting on Skazz's shoulder, peacefully now. It was only to hope the Archchancellor was sleeping just as soundly and didn't noticed anything of what had happened since he had fallen asleep.
Taking another look at the student, who looked pretty satisfied with his work and was occasionally patting his sleeping mentor on the head, Rincewind decided whatever was to come would, as usual, be a lot worse than even he could imagine.