Making Money

Reserve flask, and then filled it to the ten-tons marker, fiddled with the shiny valve array for a minute or two, and then stood back.
    “When I turn thith wheel, marthter, the Glooper will depothit into the vault flathk an analogue of ten tonth of gold. Thith will cauth ten tonth of gold to gently appear in the vault, tho that reality ith in balance. Ath thoon ath thith ith done, the Glooper will then clothe the connection.”
    “Very good, Igor.”
    “Er, you wouldn’t like to thtout thomthing, would you,” Igor hinted.
    “Like what?”
    “Oh, I don’t know…perhapth ‘They said’…sorry, ‘thaid’…thorry…‘I wath mad but thith will show them!!’”
    “That’s not really me.”
    “No?” said Igor. “Perhapth a laugh, then?”
    “Would that help?”
    “Yeth, thur,” said Igor. “It will help me.”
    “Oh, very well, if you think it will help,” said Hubert. He took a sip from the jug Igor had just used, and cleared his throat.
    “Hah,” he said. “Er, hahahh hah HA HA HA HA HA HA…”
    What a waste of a wonderful gift, thought Igor, and turned the wheel.
    Gloop!

    EVEN FROM DOWN here in the vaults, you could hear the buzz of activity in the banking hall.
    Moist walked slowly under the weight of a crate of bank notes, to Adora Belle’s annoyance.
    “Why can’t you put them in a safe?”
    “Because they’re full of coins. Anyway, we’ll have to keep them in here for now, until we get sorted out.”
    “It’s really just a victory thing, isn’t it? Your triumph over gold?”
    “A bit, yes.”
    “You got away with it again.”
    “I wouldn’t exactly put it like that. Gladys has applied to be my secretary.”
    “Here’s a tip: don’t let her sit on your lap.”
    “I’m being serious here! She’s ferocious! She probably wants my job now! She believes everything she reads!”
    “There’s your answer, then. Good grief, she’s the least of your problems!”
    “Every problem is an opportunity,” said Moist primly.
    “Well, if you upset Vetinari again you will have a wonderful opportunity to never have to buy another hat.”
    “No, I think he likes a little opposition.”
    “And are you any good at knowing how much?”
    “No, that’s what I enjoy. You get a wonderful view from the point of no return.”
    Moist opened the vault and put the crate on a shelf. It looked a bit lost and alone, but he could just make out the thudding of the press in the Mint as they worked hard at providing it with company.
    Adora Belle leaned on the door frame, watching him carefully.
    “I keep hearing that while I was away you did all kinds of risky things. Is that true?”
    “I like to flirt with risk. It’s always been part of my life.”
    “But you don’t do that kind of stuff while I’m around,” said Adora Belle. “So I’m enough of a thrill, am I?”
    She advanced. The heels helped, of course, but Spike could move like a snake trying to sashay, and the severe, tight, and ostensibly modest dresses she wore left everything to the imagination, which is much more inflammatory than leaving nothing. Speculation is always more interesting than facts.
    “What are you thinking about right now?” she said. She dropped her cigarette stub and pinned it with a heel.
    “Piggy banks,” said Moist instantly.
    “Piggy banks?”
    “Yes, in the shape of not so much a pig as the bank and the Mint. To teach the kiddies the habits of thrift. The money could go in the slot where the Bad Penny is—”
    “Are you really thinking about money boxes?”
    “Er, no. I’m flirting with risk again.”
    “That’s better!”
    “Although you must admit that it’s a pretty clev—”
    Adora Belle grabbed Moist by the shoulders.
    “Moist von Lipwig, if you don’t give me a big wet kiss right now—Ow! Are there fleas down here?”
    It felt like a hailstorm. The air in the vault had become a golden mist. It would have been pretty, if it wasn’t so heavy. It stung where it touched.
    Moist grabbed her hand and dragged her out as the teeming particles became a torrent. Outside, he took off his hat, which was already so heavy that it was endangering his ears, and tipped a small fortune in gold onto the floor. The vault was already half-full.
    “Oh no,” he moaned. “Just when it was going so well…”

Epilogue

    WHITENESS, COOLNESS, the smell of starch.
    “Good morning, my lord.”
    Cosmo opened his eyes. A female face, surrounded by a white cap, was looking down at him.
    Ah, so it had