Chapter 2

Many thoughts were crossing Sam's mind while he trotted behind Albert through a house that wasn't only much too dark for his taste but had also turned out to be much bigger on the inside than it had looked from the outside. Beside that it suffered from the weirdest dimensions Sam would ever had ever seen, had he actually seen them. But he didn't, because his mind dealed with these things by simply ignoring them.

He now knew who had attacked their city. It had been the Agatean Empire, a land so far away that Sam hardly knew it even existed. Apparently the Empire had been ruled by a bunch of old Barbarians for some time, and then they were gone and whoever replaced them had decided 'Hey! Let's go conquer Ankh-Morpork!' Or something like that.

Vetinari had told him about this earlier. He still hadn't said anything about what exactly had happened to himself, but for some reason Sam had been afraid to ask. And he very much doubted he would have gotten an answer. It wasn't his business anyway.

Even without Vetinari telling him, Sam knew that the Agatean Empire was not only very large but also had an army with as many men as Ankh-Morpork had inhabitants. So it made sense that the war had been a short one. But that empire also lay very far away on the Counterweight Continent. So they would have needed to cross the ocean with quite a lot of ships before they could do anything. Could something like that happen without anyone noticing, Sam wondered? Not likely. So how did they do it? Death had mentioned something about evil forces out to destroy, well, the world. Or life. Or whatever. They were out for something, that much Sam had understood. So they had helped…? Did that make sense? What 'forces' anyway? For a moment Sam regretted that he had left without asking, but he pushed that thought aside when they reached the library.

It was impossible to measure the size of the room by simply looking at it, for the view was blocked by bookshelves. But even so, he had a feeling that the walls were very, very far away.

"The library," said Albert, quite unnecessarily. "Every being has a book here in which their life is written down. If you want to know something about someone you just have to get the right book and read."

A part of Vimes thought that a place like this would have made being a copper in Ankh-Morpork so much easier. Another part wondered how he was supposed to find a single book within less than five thousand years. That part looked up the next bookshelf that went up to the very far away ceiling and said, "Arg."

Albert proved helpful at this point.

"When you're looking for a special book you'll only have to extend you hand and say the name of the person in question."

"Okay," said Sam but did nothing until Albert grumbled something about going to bed and left. For some reason, he was unwilling to do anything with anyone watching.

But even when he was alone, he hesitated for a moment before he did extend his hand, palm up, feeling just a little silly. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, opened it again and finally said "Sybil Ramkin" into the empty air. Less than a second later a book was resting on his hand. It read 'Sybil Ramkin-Vimes' on the cover and was surprisingly heavy. Sam looked at the name for a long second and then moved to open it.

And hesitated.

He had been worried for his family, but now, with the answers in his hand, he was afraid. For the first time it really occurred to him that what he would read in this book could not be the answers he was hoping for.

Finally, he took a deep breath and opened the book on the first page. He read a few lines and closed it again when he realised that this was Sybil whole life he was looking at, from the beginning to, perhaps, the end. He should have expected something like this, he thought, but he hadn't, because he didn't think about it. And now he stood here, totally shocked and being angry with himself.

It just didn't seem right to read it.

But he had to, hadn't he? When he wanted to get his answers, he would have to read at least a few pages. At the end. Yes, that was what he would do. Jump to the last pages, see, if Sybil and little Sam were still alive and then close it and leave. Yes.

And what would he do should Sybil be dead?

Nothing, Sam thought bitterly. Because he was damn fucking dead himself. His opportunities were pretty limited because of that.

Time to find out. To his mild surprise, Vimes realised that his hands were shaking when he opened the book at the last page – and found it empty. Confused he skipped through the pages and saw that quite a lot of pages had nothing written onto them, when he finally reached the end of the text. He took another breath and began to read. Just a few lines. Then he sighed in relief. According to the book they were both alive and on their way to Pseudopolis. They didn't even know he was dead yet. Sam felt a pang of guilt, but there was nothing he could do about that. For the first time, he realised that life moved on without him. It was strange thinking like this, but he was getting used to it.

Unwilling to spy on his wife's life any more, he closed the book, and just when he was wondering where to put it, it vanished into thin air. Assuming it had returned to were it belonged, Sam turned to walk out of the library and back to the room he had come from. But at the door he stopped. Another idea had come to his mind, and wouldn't leave there. He shouldn't do it. It wasn't right. And it was none of his business. He shouldn't do it.

But he wanted to know.

Sam spend a full minute staring at the door in front of him before he turned back to the room and extended his had, palm up.

"Havelock Vetinari," he said.

---

"Of course, this all still doesn't explain why we have been sent here in the first place." Vetinari leaned back, rubbing his eyes. He was feeling rather tired, like he hadn't slept for days. Which was the case, but he'd never thought it would matter.

I BELIEVE IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH REALITY TRYING TO REPAIR ITSELF.

"How so?"

I DO NOT YET KNOW FOR SURE, BUT IT SEEMS LIKE THERE MIGHT BE A POINT WERE THE WORST CAN BE STOPPED FROM HAPPENEING.

Suddenly, Vetinari was very much awake.

"You're saying we could save the city?"

AND THE WORLD.

"Ah. Of course."

I'M NOT CERTAIN YET, Death admitted. I WILL INFORM YOU ONCE I KNOW FOR SURE. He seemed to sense what Vetinari wanted to say next and added: YOU NEEDN'T WORRY ABOUT RUNNING OUT OF TIME, IN THIS PLACE.

"I thought so." There was one more thing: "Why us, of all people?"

I DON'T KNOW.

"Oh."

BUT I BELIEVE, Death went on, IT MIGHT BE BECAUSE YOUR CONNECTION TO THAT PLACE WAS THE STRONGEST, OF ALL PEOPLE THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO SOMETHING.

"Do something. I see." Vetinari suppressed a yawn. Job description: Looking for someone able to save the world. Conditions: You have to be dead. Good Heavens…

"I understand that you are to come personally to those of royal families?"

THAT IS TRUE.

"Even if they are not ruling anywhere?"

YES.

"So, did you happen to take someone called Carrot Ironfounderson these days?"

There was a sort pause, as if Death was trying to remember.

NO.

"I can assume that he is still alive, then?"

SO IT SEEMS.

"Hm." Vetinari wasn't quite sure if this was a good thing. Of course, for Carrot it probably was, but he was sure that the young man would have been here as well had he been dead – given, of course, that Death's assumption was true.

Well, they would have to do without him.

Suddenly he just wanted to sleep.

ARE YOU TIRED?

Briefly Vetinari considered lying like he would have done in life. But here, now, it would be pointless.

"Very," he answered.

INTERESTING.

It probably was. Vetinari found it difficult to appreciate this fact properly with the world spinning around him more and more. But still…

"I have another question."

ASK, said Death patiently. He didn't seem to have any plans to spend the evening.

"Vimes and I, we are without doubt much more solid than ghosts should be. We get hungry, tired, and should I stab a blade through my arm it would probably bleed. I can feel my heart beat. In fact, we behave very much like living beings." He paused for a moment, looking for the right words. In the end he settled for a simple "What would happen if we died? Again."

Death seemed to think about the answer, but it was hard to tell with his lack of face to read.

I DON'T KNOW, he finally admitted. BUT IN YOUR PLACE I WOULDN'T TRY TO FIND OUT.

---

As he'd expected Sam needed half an hour to find his way back to the living room without Albert guiding him. The dark corridors he passed seemed even darker than before now, and yet he could see without problems – and without any lights in sight. He decided not to think about it.

Just when he reached the room, Death entered through another door. He carried a woollen blanket in his arm which was, much to his surprise, not black but dark brown. Vimes suppressed the impulse to rise his eyebrows at that – it seemed too much a Vetinari-thing to do.

DID YOU FIND YOUR ANSWERS? the skeleton asked. Sam grimaced.

"Yes," he said. And much more than that… Much more than he ever wanted to know. But he had to look, didn't he? Now all he could do was hope that Vetinari never found out about it.

GOOD.

"I suppose…" Sam mumbled and than added, rather loudly: "Oh." Because Death had walked over to the couch and draped the blanket over the motionless form of Havelock, Lord Vetinari, who had without any doubt fallen asleep there. Sam had never thought he'd see the day.

Or night. Or whatever. It was pretty much impossible to tell the time of day, if there even was such a thing as days here.

Seeing his boss – it was impossible not to think of him as that, even now – so unguarded was strange, though he had seen it before. In fact, he'd never really believed that this man would ever sleep without at least some poison running through his blood, least with someone present to see it. But he did look terribly tired – maybe there was a limit to everything.

Now that he thought about it, Sam was a little tired himself. For the lack of another couch, he would have to wait, or ask Death where to find a bed. Which he didn't want. Asking the reaper where to find a place to sleep was something a sane person just didn't do.

-tbc-

May 28, 2005