Making Money

been a few in Ankh-Morpork, running errands, doing chores, pumping water deep underground, unseen and silent and not getting in anyone’s way. Then, one day, someone freed a golem by inserting in its head the receipt for the money he’d paid for it. And then he told it that it owned itself.
    A golem could not be freed by orders, or a war, or a whim. But it could be freed by freehold. When you have been a possession, then you really understand what freedom means, in all its magnificent terror.
    Dorfl, the first freed golem, had a plan. He worked hard, around the clock he had no time for, and bought another golem. The two golems worked hard and bought a third golem…and now there was the Golem Trust, which bought golems, found golems entombed underground or in the depths of the sea, and helped golems buy themselves.
    In the booming city golems were worth their weight in gold. They would accept small wages but they earned them for twenty-four hours a day. It was still a bargain—stronger than trolls, more reliable than oxen, and more indefatigable and intelligent than a dozen of each, a golem could power every machine in a workshop.
    This didn’t make them popular. There was always a reason to dislike a golem. They didn’t drink, eat, gamble, swear, or smile. They worked. If a fire broke out, they hurried to it en masse and put it out and then walked back to what they had been doing. No one knew why a creature that had been baked into life had the urge to do this, but all it won them was a kind of awkward resentment. You couldn’t be grateful to an unmoving face with glowing eyes.
    “How many are down there?” said Moist.
    “I told you. Four.”
    Moist felt relieved. “Well, that’s good. Well done. Can we have a proper celebratory meal tonight? Of something the animal wasn’t so attached to? And then, who knows—”
    “There may be a snag,” said Adora Belle slowly.
    “No, really?”
    “Oh, please.” Adora Belle sighed. “Look, the Umnians were the first golem-builders, do you understand? Golem legend says that the Umnians invented golems. It’s easy to believe, too. Some priest baking a votive offering says the right words, and the clay sits up. It was their only invention. They didn’t need any more. Golems built their city, golems tilled their fields. They invented the wheel, but as a children’s toy. They didn’t need wheels, you see. You don’t need weapons, either, when you’ve got golems instead of city walls. You don’t even need shovels—”
    “You’re not going to tell me they built fifty-foot-high killer golems, are you?”
    “Only a man would think of that.”
    “It’s our job,” said Moist. “If you don’t think of fifty-foot-high killer golems first, someone else will.”
    “Well, there’s no evidence of them,” said Adora Belle briskly. “The Umnians never even worked iron. They did work bronze, though…and gold.”
    There was something about the way gold was left hanging there that Moist didn’t like.
    “Gold,” he said.
    “Umnian is a very complex language,” said Adora Belle quickly. “None of the Trust golems know much about it, so we can’t be certain—”
    “Gold,” said Moist, his voice leaden.
    “So, when the digging team found caves down there, we came up with a plan. The tunnel was getting unstable anyway, so they closed it off, we said it had collapsed, and by now the team will have brought the golems out under the sea and be bringing them underwater all the way into the city,” said Adora Belle.
    Moist pointed at the golem’s arm in its bag. “That one isn’t gold,” he said hopefully.
    “We found a lot of golem remains about halfway down,” said Adora Belle with a sigh. “The others are deeper…er, perhaps because they are heavier.”
    “Gold’s twice the weight of lead,” said Moist gloomily.
    “The buried golem is singing in Umnian, which is the most complex language ever,” said Adora Belle. “I can’t be certain of our translation, so I thought, let’s start by getting them into Ankh-Morpork, where they will be safe.”
    Moist took a deep breath. “Do you know how much trouble you can get into by breaking a contract with a dwarf?”
    “Oh, come on! I’m not starting a war!”
    “No, you’re starting a legal action! And with the dwarfs that’s even worse! You told me the contract said you couldn’t take precious metals out of the land!”
    “Yes, but these are golems. They’re alive.”
    “Look, you’ve