Feet of Clay

axe out of the air, Cheri trailing behind it like a comet, and hurled it aside.
    Angua hauled Carrot to his feet. Blood dripped from his hand. She tried to shut her nostrils. Full moon tomorrow. No more choices .
    “Maybe we can reason with it—” Carrot started.
    “Attention! This is the real world calling!” shouted Angua.
    Carrot drew his sword. “I am arresting you—” he began.
    The golem’s arm whirred across. The sword buried itself to the hilt in a crate of candles.
    “Got any more clever ideas?” said Angua, as they backed away. “Or can we go now?”
    “No. We’ve got to stop it somewhere .”
    Their heels met a wall of crates.
    “I think we’ve found the place,” said Angua as the golem raised its fists again.
    “You duck right, I’ll duck left. Maybe—”
    A blow rocked the big double doors in the far wall.
    The king golem’s head turned.
    The doors shook again, and burst inwards. For a moment Dorfl was framed in the doorway. Then the red golem lowered his head, spread his arms, and charged.
    It wasn’t a very fast run but it did have a terrible momentum, like the slow slide of a glacier. The floorboards shook and drummed under Dorfl.
    The golems collided with a clang in the middle of the floor. Jagged lines of fire spread across the king’s body as cracks opened, but it roared and caught up Dorfl around the middle and tossed him against the wall.
    “Come on ,” said Angua. “ Now can we find Cheri and get out of here?”
    “We ought to help him,” said Carrot, as the golems smashed into each other again.
    “How? If it…if he can’t stop it, what makes you think we can? Come on! ”
    Carrot shook her off.
    Dorfl picked himself up from among the bricks and charged again. The golems met, scrabbling at one another for purchase. They stood locked for a moment, creaking, and then Dorfl’s hand came up holding something. Dorfl pushed himself back and smashed the other golem over the head with its own leg.
    As it spun Dorfl’s other hand lashed out, but was grabbed. The king swiveled with a strange grace, bore Dorfl to the floor, rolled and kicked out. Dorfl rolled too, flung out his arms to stop himself, and looked back to see both his feet pinwheeling into the wall.
    The king picked up its own leg, balanced for a moment, and joined itself together.
    Then its red gaze swept the factory and flared when it caught sight of Carrot.
    “There must be a back way out of here,” muttered Angua. “Carry got out!”
    The king started to run after them, but hit an immediate problem. It had put its leg on back to front. It began to limp in a circle but, somehow, the circle got nearer to Carrot.
    “We can’t just leave Dorfl lying there,” said Carrot.
    He pulled a long metal rod out of a stirring tank and eased himself back down to the grease-crusted floor.
    The king rocked towards him. Carrot hopped backwards, steadied himself on a rail, and swung.
    The golem lifted its hand, caught the rod out of the air and tossed it aside. It raised both fists and tried to step forward.
    It couldn’t move. It looked down.
    “Thsss,” said what remained of Dorfl, gripping its ankle.
    The king bent, swung one hand with the palm edgewise, and calmly sheared the top off Dorfl’s head. It removed the chem and crumpled it up.
    The glow died in Dorfl’s eyes.
    Angua cannoned into Carrot so hard he almost fell over. She wrapped both arms around him and pulled him after her.
    “It just killed Dorfl, just like that!” said Carrot.
    “It’s a shame, yes,” said Angua. “Or it would be if Dorfl had been alive. Carrot, they’re like… machinery . Look, we can make it to the door—”
    Carrot shook himself free. “It’s murder,” he said. “We’re Watchmen. We can’t just…watch! It killed him!”
    “It’s an it and so’s he—”
    “Commander Vimes said someone has to speak for the people with no voices!”
    He really believes it , Angua thought. Vimes put words in his head .
    “Keep it occupied!” he shouted, and darted away.
    “How? Organize a sing-song?”
    “I’ve got a plan.”
    “Oh, good! ”

    Vimes looked up at the entrance of the candle-factory. He could dimly see two cressets burning on either side of a shield. “Look at that, will you?” he said. “Paint not dry and he flaunts the thing for all the world to see!”
    “What’s dat, sir?” said Detritus.
    “His damn’ coat of arms!”
    Detritus looked up. “Why’s it got a lighted fish on it?” he said.
    “In