Pyramids

Ptraci.
    Teppic thought about this. “Why not before?” he said.
    “And then they probably dance to the sound of the bourzuki,” Ptraci added. “I think it’s a sort of dog.”
    Teppic sat with his head in his hands.
    “I must say you speak Ephebian well,” he said.
    “Pthank you.”
    “Just a trace of an accent, though.”
    “Languages is part of the training,” she said. “And my grandmother told me that a ptrace of foreign accent is more fascinating.”
    “We learned the same thing,” said Teppic. “An assassin should always be slightly foreign, no matter where he is. I’m good at that part,” he added bitterly.
    She began to massage his neck.
    “I went down to the harbor,” she said. “There’s those things like big rafts, you know, camels of the sea—”
    “Ships,” said Teppic.
    “And they go everywhere. We could go anywhere we want. The world is our pthing with pearls in it, if we like.”
    Teppic told her about Pthagonal’s theory. She didn’t seem surprised.
    “Like an old pond where no new water comes in,” she observed. “So everyone goes around and around in the same old puddle. All the ptime you live has been lived already. It must be like other people’s bathwater.”
    “I’m going to go back.”
    Her fingers stopped their skilled kneading of his muscles.
    “We could go anywhere,” she repeated. “We’ve got ptrades, we could sell that camel. You could show me that Ankh-Morpork place. It sounds interesting.”
    Teppic wondered what effect Ankh-Morpork would have on the girl. Then he wondered what effect she would have on the city. She was definitely—flowering. Back in the Old Kingdom she’d never apparently had any original thoughts beyond the choice of the next grape to peel, but since she was outside she seemed to have changed. Her jaw hadn’t changed, it was still quite small and, he had to admit, very pretty. But somehow it was more noticeable. She used to look at the ground when she spoke to him. She still didn’t always look at him when she spoke to him, but now it was because she was thinking about something else.
    He found he kept wanting to say, politely, without stressing it in any way, just as a very gentle reminder, that he was king. But he had a feeling that she’d say she hadn’t heard, and would he please repeat it, and if she looked at him he’d never be able to say it twice.
    “You could go,” he said. “You’d get on well. I could give you a few names and addresses.”
    “And what would you do?”
    “I dread to think what’s going on back home,” said Teppic. “I ought to do something.”
    “You can’t. Why ptry? Even if you didn’t want to be an assassin there’s lots of pthings you could do. And you said the man said it’s not a place people could get into anymore. I hate pyramids.”
    “Surely there’s people there you care about?”
    Ptraci shrugged. “If they’re dead there’s nothing I can do about it,” she said. “And if they’re alive, there’s nothing I can do about it. So I shan’t.”
    Teppic stared at her in a species of horrified admiration. It was a beautiful summary of things as they were. He just couldn’t bring himself to think that way. His body had been away for seven years but his blood had been in the kingdom for a thousand times longer. Certainly he’d wanted to leave it behind, but that was the whole point. It would have been there. Even if he’d avoided it for the rest of his life, it would have still been a sort of anchor.
    “I feel so wretched about it,” he repeated. “I’m sorry. That’s all there is to it. Even to go back for five minutes, just to say, well, that I’m not coming back. That’d be enough. It’s probably all my fault.”
    “But there isn’t a way back! You’ll just hang around sadly, like those deposed kings you ptold me about. You know, with pthreadbare cloaks and always begging for their food in a high-class way. There’s nothing more useless than a king without a kingdom, you said. Just think about it.”
    They wandered through the sunset streets of the city, and toward the harbor. All streets in the city led toward the harbor.
    Someone was just putting a torch to the lighthouse, which was one of the More Than Seven Wonders of the World and had been built to a design by Pthagonal using the Golden Rule and the Five Aesthetic Principles. Unfortunately it had then been built in the wrong place because putting it in the right place would have spoiled the look