Jingo

we maybe go ashore under cover of cover?” said Sergeant Colon.
    “In fact these extra ships will make our plan that much easier,” said the Patrician, ignoring him.
    “Our plan?” said Colon.
    “People within the Klatchian hegemony come in every shape and color.” Vetinari glanced at Nobby. “Practically every shape and color,” he added. “So our appearance on the streets should not cause undue comment.” He glanced at Nobby again. “To any great extent.”
    “But we’re wearing our uniforms, sir,” said Sergeant Colon. “It’s not like we can say we’re on our way to a fancy-dress party.”
    “Well, I’m not taking mine off,” said Nobby firmly. “I’m not running around in my drawers. Not in a port. Sailors are at sea a long time. You hear stories.”
    “That’d be worse ,” said the sergeant, without wasting time calculating how long any sailor would need to be at sea before the vision of Nobby Nobbs would present itself as anything other than a target, “’cos if we’re not in uniform, we’ll be spies—and you know what happens to spies.”
    “Are you going to tell me, sarge?”
    “Excuse me, your lordship?” Sergeant Colon raised his voice. The Patrician looked up from a conversation with Leonard.
    “Yes, sergeant?”
    “What do they do to spies in Klatch, sir?”
    “Er…let me see…” said Leonard. “Oh, yes…I believe they give you to the women.”
    Nobby brightened up. “Oh, well, that doesn’t sound too bad—”
    “Er, no, Nobby—” Colon began.
    “—’cos I’ve seen the pictures in that book The Perfumed Allotment that Corporal Angua was reading, and—”
    “—no, listen , Nobby, you’ve got the wrong—”
    “—I mean, blimey, I didn’t know you could do that with a—”
    “—Nobby, listen —”
    “—and then there’s this bit where she—”
    “Corporal Nobbs!” Colon yelled.
    “Yes, sarge?”
    Colon leaned forward and whispered in Nobby’s ear. The corporal’s expression changed, slowly.
    “They really—”
    “ Yes , Nobby.”
    “They really —”
    “Yes, Nobby.”
    “They don’t do that at home.”
    “We ain’t at home, Nobby. I wish we was.”
    “Although you hear stories about the Agony Aunts, sarge.”
    “Gentlemen,” said Lord Vetinari. “I am afraid Leonard is being rather fanciful. That may apply to some of the mountain tribes, but Klatch is an ancient civilization and that sort of thing is not done officially. I should imagine they’d give you a cigarette.”
    “A cigarette?” said Fred.
    “Yes, sergeant. And a nice sunny wall to stand in front of.”
    Sergeant Colon examined this for any downside. “A nice roll-up and a wall to lean against?” he said.
    “I think they prefer you to stand up straight, sergeant.”
    “Fair enough. No need to be sloppy just because you’re a prisoner. Oh, well . I don’t mind risking it, then.”
    “Well done,” said the Patrician calmly. “Tell me, sergeant…in your long military career, did anyone ever consider promoting you to an officer?”
    “Nossir!”
    “I cannot think why.”

    Night poured over the desert. It came suddenly, in purple. In the clear air, the stars drilled down out of the sky, reminding any thoughtful watcher that it is in the deserts and high places that religions are generated. When men see nothing but bottomless infinity over their heads they have always had a driving and desperate urge to find someone to put in the way.
    Life emerged from the burrows and fissures. Soon, the desert was filled with the buzz and click and screech of creatures which, lacking mankind’s superior brainpower, did not concern themselves with finding someone to blame and instead tried to find someone to eat.
    At around three in the morning Sam Vimes walked out of the tent for a smoke. The cold air hit him like a door. It was freezing . That wasn’t what was supposed to happen in deserts, was it? Deserts were all hot sand and camels and…and…he struggled for a while, as a man whose geographical knowledge got severely cramped once you got off paved road…camels, yes, and dates. And possibly bananas and coconuts. But the temperature here made your breath tinkle in the air.
    He waved his cigar packet theatrically at a D’reg who was lounging near the tent. The man shrugged.
    The fire was just a heap of gray, but Vimes poked around in the vain hope of finding a glowing ember.
    He was amazed at how angry he was. Ahmed was the key, he knew it. And now they were