Interesting Times

otherwise blissful emptiness of his skull.
    They’d happily called him One Big River because he was the same size and moved at the same speed as the Hung. Everyone had expected him to become a tsimo wrestler, but he’d failed the intelligence test because he hadn’t eaten the table.
    It was impossible for him to get bored. He just didn’t have the imagination. But, since the visor of his huge helmet registered a permanent expression of metal rage, he’d in any case cultivated the art of going to sleep on his feet.
    He was dozing happily now, aware only of an occasional squeaking, like that of a very cautious mouse.
    The helmet’s visor swung up. A voice said: “Would you rather die than betray your Emperor?”
    A second voice said: “This is not a trick question.”
    One Big River blinked, and then turned his gaze downwards. An apparition in a squeaky-wheeled wheelchair had a very large sword pointing at exactly that inconvenient place where his upper armor didn’t quite meet his lower armor.
    A third voice said: “I should add that the last twenty-nine people who answered wrong are…dried shredded fish…sorry, dead.”
    A fourth voice said: “And we’re not eunuchs.”
    One Big River rumbled with the effort of thought.
    “I tink I rather live,” he said.
    A man with diamonds where his teeth should have been gave him a comradely pat on the shoulder. “Good man,” he said. “Join the Horde. We could use a man like you. Maybe as a siege weapon.”
    “Who you?” he said.
    “This is Ghenghiz Cohen,” said Mr. Saveloy. “Doer of mighty deeds. Slayer of dragons. Ravager of cities. He once bought an apple.”
    No one laughed. Mr. Saveloy had found that the Horde had no concept whatsoever of sarcasm. Probably no one had ever tried it on them.
    One Big River had been raised to do what he was told. Everyone had told him what to do, all through his life. He fell in behind the man with diamond teeth because he was the sort of man you followed when he said “follow.”
    “But, you know, there are tens of thousands of men who would die rather than betray their Emperor,” whispered Six Beneficent Winds, as they filed through the corridors.
    “I hope so.”
    “Some of them will be on guard around the Forbidden City. We’ve avoided them, but they’re still there. We’ll have to deal with them eventually.”
    “Oh, good!” said Cohen.
    “Bad,” said Mr. Saveloy. “That business with the ninjas was just high spirits—”
    “—high spirits—” murmured Six Beneficent Winds.
    “—but you don’t want a big fight out in the open. It’ll get messy.”
    Cohen walked over to the nearest wall, which had a gorgeous pattern of peacocks, and took out his knife.
    “Paper,” he said. “Bloody paper. Paper walls.” He poked his head through. There was a shrill whimper. “Oops, sorry, ma’am. Official wall inspection.” He extracted his head, grinning.
    “But you can’t go through walls!” said Six Beneficent Winds.
    “Why not?”
    “They’re—well, they’re the walls . What would happen if everyone walked through walls? What do you think doors are for?”
    “I think they’re for other people,” said Cohen. “Which way’s that throne room?”
    “Whut?”
    “This is lateral thinking,” explained Mr. Saveloy, as they followed him. “Ghenghiz is quite good at a certain kind of lateral thinking.”
    “What a lateral?”
    “Er. It’s a kind of muscle, I believe.”
    “Thinking with your muscles…Yes. I see,” said Six Beneficent Winds.

    Rincewind sidled into a space between the wall and a statue of a rather jolly dog with its tongue hanging out.
    “What now?” said Butterfly.
    “How big’s the Red Army?”
    “We number many thousands,” said Butterfly, defiantly.
    “In Hunghung?”
    “Oh, no. There is a cadre in every city.”
    “You know that, do you? You’ve met them?”
    “That would be dangerous. Only Two Fire Herb knows how to contact them…”
    “Fancy that. Well, do you know what I think? I think someone wants a revolution. And you’re all so damn respectful and polite he’s having his work cut out trying to organize one! But once you’ve got rebels you can do anything .”
    “That can’t be true…”
    “The rebels in other cities, they do great revolutionary deeds, do they?”
    “We hear reports all the time!”
    “From our friend Herb?”
    Butterfly frowned.
    “Yes…”
    “You’re thinking, aren’t you?” said Rincewind. “The old brain cells