Vetinari was standing outside a large locked door, in a light and airy – but noticeably well-secured – wing of the hospital.
"Ah, Commander. Thank you for clearing your schedule. I hope you enjoyed your trip?"
Vimes frowned. "Yes. And I'd have cleared it faster if you'd given me so much as a bloody hint as to what this is about."
Vetinari raised an eyebrow. "It really is the kind of thing one needs to see to properly appreciate, Vimes."
He gestured at the orderly who had accompanied Vimes down the endless corridors to get here. The man pulled out a large set of keys and unlocked the door.
"Ready, sir?" the man asked, and Vetinari gave a slight nod.
Vimes found himself grudgingly intrigued, and then the door opened. The orderly put a cautious hand on a baton hanging from his belt as the trio stepped into the ward.
Vimes made it less than ten feet inside before stopping dead at the sight before him.
Vetinaris! Everywhere!
At least twenty men had turned to look at them; each one was wearing a long black robe and had carefully cultivated facial hair. Across the room, as he watched, a wave of arched eyebrows spread. Several were limping.
Vimes felt his jaw drop. "What the hell…?"
Vetinari leaned in slightly, and lowered his voice. "It is a delusion, Commander. They have lost their grip on reality. Each man firmly believes himself to be the real Havelock Vetinari, and that the others are mere imposters."
The commander frowned. "Are they dangerous?"
Vetinari smiled slightly. "No. Mostly harmless. Mister Lavish – by the plant pot in the corner – appears to have been an aberration. The others are mostly here for their own protection. They have a tendency to wander into the palace and attempt to tell people what to do. The housekeepers were getting rather irate."
"Good gods." Vimes turned to face him. "Is this not a bit…well. Bizarre, for you…?"
Vetinari tilted his head and thought. "Do you know, Commander, in the long list of things I find bizarre about people, this doesn't even make the top ten." A glint appeared in his eye. "Make of that what you will. However; this was not, actually, what I brought you here to see."
The orderly led them across the dayroom and down a short corridor, where they came to a door. Vetinari paused at it, and knocked.
"Come in." The voice from inside was gruff.
Vetinari opened the door whilst watching Vimes closely.
Vimes frowned at him, then peered cautiously inside.
The room was set up as an office, with a desk and chair in the middle of the room. Reclining in the chair, feet resting atop the desk, was a scruffy man in a battered watch uniform. A BLT – heavy on the B, light on everything else – sat, half eaten, next to him.
The man scowled up at him. "Are you one of the new recruits? Who gave you that bloody uniform?"
Vimes blinked, and then looked at Vetinari, who was trying very hard to conceal a grin.
"That's…?!"
"Yes, Commander."
The two Vimes' stared at each other for a minute.
"Good gods." Vimes didn't know what else to say. The other man had narrowed his eyes and seemed to be waiting for a response. Vimes had a flashback to his first day on the job, a young lad standing in front of his captain and feeling like he might widdle himself in fear.
"Erm. Yes. New recruit. I'll just go…and. Er. Find the sergeant, shall I…?"
The man scowled. "You do that. Detritus will give you the oath; it's a bit long so don't forget to breathe, otherwise we'll be scraping you off the floor, and if you try to nick the shilling you'd better be prepared to lose an eardrum. Troll's aren't known for their subtlety. Oh, and welcome to the Watch."
Vimes backed carefully out of the room, and Vetinari pulled the door closed after him.
Vetinari watched as he tried to process the last few minutes, then appeared to take pity on him. "He was picked up almost a week ago, attempting to gain access to the Oblong Office, ostensibly to report to me. Happily the guards are very familiar with you, Commander, and so he was spotted immediately."
"Oh. Good." Vimes paused. "And why was he brought here, exactly…?"
Vetinari smiled. "We tried him in the general ward, but the nurses tell me he quickly became very depressed. It was Drumknott's suggestion to move him here, amongst the Vetinari's, and I must say, it seems to suit him very well."
The glint was back in Vetinari's eye. Vimes fumed silently. Happier surrounded by twenty Vetinaris, was he? Did you need a clearer sign that the man was bloody insane?
Vetinari had continued. "I'm told he goes along and reports to a different Vetinari every day. It seems to be a…mutually beneficial relationship."
Vimes narrowed his eyes, but failed to detect anything other than vague satisfaction in the patricians tone. He grunted.
"Right. Mutually beneficial."
The two turned and headed for the exit, trailed by the orderly.
As they passed back through the day room, Vimes took a last look around. A thought occurred.
"Please tell me they don't give them bloody razors...?"
Vetinari raised an eyebrow. "Of course not. A barber comes in and tends them daily."
"Who pays for that?"
"An anonymous benefactor. So I'm told."
Vimes peered sideways at him. "Right. That's very generous of him. Or her."
The two paused again at the door to the ward. Vetinari looked across the room to where Cosmo was staring at his reflection in a silver tea urn as he raised and lowered an eyebrow repeatedly.
"Well. They are victims of their own mind, Vimes. A particularly cruel affliction. Perhaps our benefactor appreciates the suffering that such a disease might bring, and seeks only to ameliorate it in some small way." He turned and nodded at the orderly without waiting for a response, and the man let them back out into the cool hallway.
The two men walked back along the winding corridors, lost in thought, then as they reached the exit Vimes grunted. "Maybe we should be making better use of this. Do you think I could send over some of the watch paperwork for our friend in there…?"
Vetinari smiled. "Perhaps some of the men could come and spend some time with the man. It may prove…therapeutic."
Vimes thought about this. "I dare say meeting some actual coppers would go a long way to persuading a man he's better off not being commander of the bloody watch." He shrugged. "Just do me a favour, will you, and don't tell Sybil he's here. She'll want to visit."
"Of course, Commander." Vetinari's coach pulled up, and the man climbed on board.
"Would you like a ride back, Vimes?"
Vimes looked up at the sky; it was bright and clear. He thought about the door locking behind him as he left the ward.
"No thanks, sir. I've got a newfound appreciation of my freedom. I think I'll walk."
Vetinari inclined his head and tapped his cane on the roof of the coach. Vimes watched as it pulled away, and then took the long way home.