Chapter 3

Night had fallen over this part of the disk quite a long while ago. In fact it was so long a while that the sky was already brightening again. The first lazy rays of a small sun were crawling over the land, over mountains and fields and quite a lot of dirt to a small city called Sto Helit. They crawled over buildings and streets, and through the window into a room that showed all symptoms of being a bedroom, namely four walls and a bed. It hesitated a little before it dared to crawl over the person who occupied the bed as well – or rather, the person who would like to occupy the bed, and who had done so until about one minute ago.

Susan Sto Helit crossed her arms and glared angrily at the dark figure in front of her. "Whatever it is," she stated, "I'm not going to do it!"

Death seemed to consider his possible reactions to this.

THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END, he settled for, but his granddaughter only grimaced and refused to say anything until she heard the single word she knew had to follow a phrase like this.

AGAIN.

"That's what you said last time you decided to mess up my life. It's getting old."

LAST TIME THE WORLD DID END, Death reminded her.

"Oh, well…" Now it was Susan looking for a response. "That's still no excuse to come here and wake me in the middle of the night."

IT'S MORNING.

"I know what time it is!" Susan snarled.

There was a short silence.

ANKH-MORPORK HAS FALLEN, Death informed her. Susan shrugged.

"Yes, I noticed. I used to live there, you know?"

YES. The young duchess of Sto Helit only stared at her grandfather until he seemed to remember something. I'M VERY GLAD TO SEE YOU UNHARMED, he said.

Susan snorted.

"Well, what is it this time?" she then asked, sighing. "Don't tell me it's the auditors again."

IT'S THE AUDITORS. AGAIN.

"And what am I supposed to do against that?" Susan grumbled. She wasn't in a good mood – in fact she was tired and cold, because her nightgown was too thin and the stone floor she was standing on too icy. And she had no interest in saving the world once more. Having Death himself as a family member made life quiet hard, but at least he was present now, so she could growl at him. Because it was all his fault. She just wished he'd go away and let her sleep, and find someone else to save the world.

NOTHING.

"Huh?"

I HAVE NOT COME TO AKS FOR YOU TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT.

"So." Now Susan was really getting angry. How dare he come here, get into her life again and then ask absolutely nothing of her? "And why are you here then? Surely it's not a simple family visit."

I NEED YOUR HELP.

"Didn't you just say you wouldn't?" This was getting annoying.

I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP IN SAVING THE WORLD BUT I NEED YOUR HELP IN FINDING SOMEONE WHO'S HELP I NEED.

Susan's mind got blank. "What?" she asked. "Who?"

TIME.

Again Susan's mind needed a few seconds to find the connections between her grandfather's words and the world she knew.

"Time?" she said. "You mean Lobsang?"

YES.

"Why?"

BECAUSE I CAN NOT FIND HIM. YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT.

"I mean, why do you need him", Susan asked, still grumpy and rather annoyed that her Grandfather had not come to annoy her.

TO AVOID THE END OF THE WORLD, Death explained patiently. Susan sighed.

"Yes, I figured as much…"

---

In a place so far away that it couldn't even be called far away Sam Vimes opened his eyes to greet a new day. In fact, he opened his eyes to darkness.

"Oh, bugger," he mumbled. So much for his hope that all had been but a bad dream…

---

In the kitchen Albert was preparing an unhealthy breakfast. When he looked into the sink he noticed two plates waiting to be cleaned.

Two. Plates.

"Oh bugger," he grumbled. So much for his hope that the invasion of this house had been but a nightmare…

---

After a while Sam realised that it wasn't really dark. Just black, but he could see amazingly well with all the blackness and no light. Just like yester… just like before he had gone to sleep.

He had gone to sleep in a large bedroom Death had shown him before disappearing somewhere. It looked like someone had lived here once, but now it was deserted – not that Sam would have minded. Sharing the bed with anybody would have been rather uncomfortable, anyway…

On a chair nearby lay a pile of clothes. They had not been there when he had gone to sleep, but he refused to think about it for the moment. Black pants and a long, rather old fashioned shirt coloured in a strong brownish red, like dried blood. Sam would have preferred to keep his own clothes but they appeared to be a little gone. So much for that.

Having dressed and looked in vain for a bath, he left the bedroom and went looking for the kitchen.

He didn't find it, at least not at once. Instead he stumbled into the living room – strange using this word here, Sam thought, but he could think of nothing better – where he had talked to the others yesterday, and found Vetinari as he had left him asleep on the couch. He hadn't moved all night.

Here, too, Vimes found a pile of clothes on a chair nearby. They were black. His view on the world was saved for another day.

'I've wished him dead so many times,' Sam thought looking at the sleeping man, 'but not like that.' Unbidden memories sprung to his mind – he should never have read that stupid book. This was his boss, after all, and he didn't want to feel sorry for him. He was used to being angry at this person; it was also what had kept him from going mad when they first arrived here. And when Vetinari was awake, he would act his usual annoying self and make Sam angry once again and the world would be alright and he could forget for a moment, but right now Vetinari wasn't awake, and Sam could not forget.

No one deserved to die like that, he thought bitterly, which wasn't quite true. In fact Vimes could think of quite a few people who would deserve it, but Havelock Vetinari, he realised, was not one of them.

After a while he turned and left the room as quietly as possible.

---

Albert was staring at the food in his pan, wondering whether or not it would be enough for tree people, including himself, which would actually mean four people. He was doubtful.

The door opened and one of their unexpected quests entered. Ah, thought Albert, it was the nice one. The 'nice one' in this case meant that it was the one who wasn't scary and who had never given him a headache. The guy grunted something that could have been Good Morning and Albert grunted something in return that could have been anything.

"Do you think this'll be enough for three people?" he then asked.

The man, Vimes if he remembered correctly, stepped beside him and looked at the indefinable, burned objects swimming in a pool of fat.

"Looks okay for me," he said.

"Is your black phantom not with you?"

Vimes snorted. "Still sleeping. He wouldn't eat this, anyway."

Albert only gave an enthusiastic "Pah," to this. "One of those guys who only eat nearly extinguished exotic animals, huh? Would explain why he's so thin."

"Actually he's one of those guys who live off bread and water."

"So?" Albert frowned, then thought a little, and then grinned. "Well, I think I can serve him there."

---

Vetinari entered the kitchen only fifteen minutes later, and his damp hair indicated that he had not only found the room much faster than Vimes did but had also happened to find a bathroom on the way.

The day before, Vimes had worn his usual copper uniform, which only now stroke him as a little wired because he had not worn it when he was killed. Just like he was sure Vetinari had not worn his usual robes he had seen him in yesterday. However, now they were gone and he was dressed in plain black pants that were quite a bit too wide and a black shirt with a somewhat high but open collar that almost reached his knees while the sleeves didn't quite reach his wrists. Somehow, it looked incredibly elegant on him and made Sam feel terribly plain and common. But he had been plain and common all his life so he didn't mind. He liked plain and common.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Vetinari greeted as if he was just having his weekly meeting with any of those annoying guild heads, and sat down on the chair closest to the door. Sam had heard somewhere – probably during one of those boring rich-people-parties Sybil had made him go to – that black clothes would make people appear slender. They were right – Who was build like Vetinari should not wear black, Sam thought.

Albert only nodded to him and handed him some sliced bread on a plate, with a smile.

"Your master, I suppose, is right now attending to some matters of importance?"

"Oh, yes." Albert sat down as well and shrugged. "You know, he comes, he leaves – I don't ask him where he's going."

"Yes, that doesn't surprise me."

Albert frowned again, apparently unsure what to make of this answer, but remained silent. Sam was just happily eating his second helping of wonderfully burned and unhealthy food when he noticed something.

"Not hungry?" he asked.

"A little, perhaps," Vetinari said friendly.

"Then why aren't you eating your bread?"

"Because it has spent an unknown amount of time alone with the two of you in this room."

"What?" Albert spat. "Do you want to accuse us of poisoning it?"

"Let's say I'm not hungry enough to risk it."

"How rude!" Sam scolded with his mouth full. He swallowed. "After Albert was so friendly to give it to you. And really, I'm hurt! As if I'd ever done anything to harm you!"

Vetinari smiled. "If you are that offended by my rude words, I will give this to you as an apology," he said and put half of his food on each of their plates. Vimes stared at it.

"Too friendly," he grumbled.

"Why aren't you eating, Sir Samuel? I wouldn't happen to have been right with my rude accusations, would I?" Somehow, Sam felt that his boss was having just a little too much fun here.

"I'm just not a bread person," he mumbled but took a bite anyway. The super-hot klatchian spice-oil Albert had generously dripped all over it brought tears to his eyes, but he managed to chew a few times and even shallow the mouthful before he fell onto the table, struggling for breath.

---

Twenty minutes and eight glasses of cold water later, they were finishing their meal in silence, when suddenly Vetinari said: "Did you find your answers in the library?"

"Oh, yes," Sam mumbled, not looking up.

"Your family is alright, I hope?"

"Yes, they're safe for now." But not forever, if the world's really ending, he finished the sentence in his mind. For a moment, he thought he felt the Patrician stare at him in silence.

"So in this library you find the life of every person that ever lived? Interesting," Vetinari said in a conversational tone. "I imagine it must be incredibly practical for gathering information about anyone."

"That's true," Sam said carefully, not trusting where this could be leading.

"But," Vetinari continued. "those books must be something terribly private if everything about a life is written in them. I trust no one would read them unless it was absolutely unavoidable."

'He knows,' Sam thought, and bit his lips. 'He knows, of course, I knew he'd know, shit!'

What he said was: "You're right. No one should do that."

"Well, I'm glad we agree here, for once." With that, Vetinari rose from his chair and left the room without another word. Sam killed a curse between his teeth.

Albert stared at the closed door.

"Who the heck is this guy, anyway?" he wanted to know. Sam had almost forgotten he was there at all.

"Someone I don't want to piss off," he mumbled.

"Well," the old man stated after a few seconds of careful thinking. "I suppose this is not your lucky day."

-tbc-

July 29, 2005