Interesting Times

eh?”
    Mr. Saveloy looked at them and realized that they were speaking another language in another world. It was one he had no key to, no map for. You could teach them to wear interesting pants and handle money but something in their soul stayed exactly the same.
    “Do teachers go anywhere special when they die?” said Cohen.
    “I don’t think so,” said Mr. Saveloy gloomily. He wondered for a moment whether there really was a great Free Period in the sky. It didn’t sound very likely. Probably there would be some marking to do.
    “Well, whatever happens, when you’re dead, if you ever feel like a good quaff, you’re welcome to drop in at any time,” said Cohen. “It’s been fun . That’s the important thing. And it’s been an education, hasn’t it, boys?”
    There was a general murmur of assent.
    “Amazing, all those long words.”
    “And learnin’ to buy things.”
    “And social intercourse, hur, hur…sorry.”
    “Whut?”
    “Shame it didn’t work out, but I’ve never been one for plans,” said Cohen.
    Mr. Saveloy stood up.
    “I’m going to join you,” he said grimly.
    “What, to fight?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you know how to handle a sword?” said Truckle.
    “Er. No.”
    “Then you’ve wasted all your life.”
    Mr. Saveloy looked offended at this.
    “I expect I’ll get the hang of it as we go along,” he said.
    “Get the hang of it? It’s a sword! ”
    “Yes, but…when you’re a teacher, you have to pick things up fast.” Mr. Saveloy smiled nervously. “I once taught practical alchemy for a whole term when Mr. Schism was off sick after blowing himself up, and up until then I’d never seen a crucible.”
    “Here.” Boy Willie handed the teacher a spare sword. He hefted it.
    “Er. I expect there’s a manual, or something?”
    “Manual? No. You hold the blunt end and poke the other end at people.”
    “Ah? Really? Well, that seems quite straightforward. I thought there was rather more to it than that.”
    “You sure you want to come with us?” said Cohen.
    Mr. Saveloy looked firm. “Absolutely. I very much doubt if I’ll survive if you lose and…well, it seems that you heroes get a better class of Heaven. I must say I rather suspect you get a better class of life, too. And I really don’t know where teachers go when they’re dead, but I’ve got a horrible suspicion it’ll be full of sports masters.”
    “It’s just that I don’t know if you could really go properly berserk,” said Cohen. “Have you ever had the red mist come down and woke up to find you’d bitten twenty people to death?”
    “I used to be reckoned a pretty ratty man if people made too much noise in class,” said Mr. Saveloy. “And something of a dead shot with a piece of chalk, too.”
    “How about you, taxman?”
    Six Beneficent Winds backed away hurriedly.
    “I…I think I’m probably more cut out for undermining the system from within,” he said.
    “Fair enough.” Cohen looked at the others. “I’ve never done this official sort of warring before,” he said. “How’s it supposed to go?”
    “I think you just line up in front of one another and then charge,” said Mr. Saveloy.
    “Seems straightforward enough. All right, let’s go.”
    They strode, or in one case wheeled and in another case moved at Mr. Saveloy’s gentle trot, down the hall. The taxman trailed after them.
    “Mr. Saveloy!” he shouted. “You know what’s going to happen! Have you lost your senses?”
    “Yes,” said the teacher, “but I may have found some better ones.”
    He grinned to himself. The whole of his life, so far, had been complicated. There had been timetables and lists and a whole basket of things he must do and things he shouldn’t do, and the life of Mr. Saveloy had been this little wriggly thing trying to survive in the middle of it all. But now it had suddenly all become very simple. You held one end and you poked the other into people. A man could live his whole life by a maxim like that. And, afterwards, get a very interesting afterlife—
    “Here, you’ll need this, too,” said Caleb, poking something round at him as they stepped into the grey light. “It’s a shield.”
    “Ah. It’s to protect myself, yes?”
    “If you really need to, bite the edge.”
    “Oh, I know about that,” said Mr. Saveloy. “That’s when you go berserk, right?”
    “Could be, could be,” said Caleb. “That’s why a lot of fighters do it. But personally I do it ’cos it’s made of