Science of Discworld III

the distant reaches of L-Space.
    And the wizards had changed their clothes, ready for hands-on intervention. There had barely been a discussion about it, not after the Dean had mentioned the goose. Hex had a great deal of control over the Globe, but when it came to the fine detail you needed to be hands-on, especially hands on cutlery. Hex had no hands. Besides, he’d explained at length, there was no such thing as absolute control, not in a fully functioning universe. There was just a variable amount of lack of control. In fact, Ponder thought, Hex was a Great Big Thing as far as Roundworld was concerned. Almost … godlike. But he still couldn’t control everything . Even if you knew where every tiny spinning particle of stuff was, you couldn’t know what it’d do next.
    The wizards would have to go in. They could do that. They’d done it before. No trouble is too much if it saves some excellent chefs from extinction.
    Clothing, at least, would not be a problem. Give or take the odd pointy hat and staff, the wizards would be able to walk the Roundworld streets without attracting a second glance.
    ‘How do we look?’ said the Archchancellor, as they reassembled.
    ‘Very … Victorian,’ said Ponder. ‘Although technically, at the moment, very Georgian. Very … tweedy, anyway. Are you totally happy with the bishop look, Dean?’
    ‘Isn’t that appropriate for the time?’ said the Dean, looking worried. ‘We looked through the book on costumes and I thought …’ His voice trailed off. ‘It’s the mitre, isn’t it …’
    ‘And the crozier,’ said Ponder.
    ‘I wanted to fit in, you see.’
    ‘In a cathedral, yes. I’m afraid it’s plain black suit with gaiters for street wear. However, you can do anything you like with your beardand you can wear hats a small child could stand up inside. But on the streets, bishops are quite dull.’
    ‘Where’s the fun in that?’ said the Dean, sulkily.
    Ponder turned to Rincewind.
    ‘As for you, Rincewind, can I ask why you are wearing nothing but a loincloth and a pointy hat?’
    ‘Ah, well, you see, if you don’t know what you’re getting into, naked always works,’ said Rincewind. ‘It’s the all-purpose suit. At home in every culture. Admittedly you sometimes get—’
    ‘In tweed, that man!’ barked Ridcully. ‘And no pointy hat!’ Against a background of grumbling he turned then to the Librarian. ‘And as for you, sir … a suit too. And a stovepipe hat. You need the height!’
    ‘Ook!’ said the Librarian.
    ‘I am the Archchancellor, sir! I insist! And a false beard, I think. False eyebrows, too. Let Mr Darwin be your model here! These Victorians were very civilised people! Hair everywhere! Keep the knuckling to a minimum and they’ll make you Prime Minister! Very well, gentlemen. Back here in half an hour!
    The wizards assembled. A circle of white light appeared on the floor. They stepped inside, there was a change in the sounds made by Hex, and they vanished.
    They landed knee-deep in the mire of a peat bog, causing bubbles of foul air to burst around them.
    ‘Mr Stibbons!’ Ridcully bellowed.
    ‘Sorry, sir, sorry,’ said Ponder quickly. ‘Hex, raise us by two feet, please.’
    ‘Yes, but we’re still soaked,’ grumbled the Dean, as they floated up in the air. ‘You seem to have, ah, “mucked up", Mr Stibbons!’
    ‘No, sir, I wanted to show you a Charles Darwin in the wild,’ said Ponder. ‘Here he comes now …’
    A large and energetic young man bounded out of the weeds and went to clear a black pool with a vaulting pole. The pole immediately sank one-third of its length into the sucking ground and its athletic owner sailed off into the mud. He came up holding a small water plant. Oblivious of the noisome bubbling around him, he waved the plant triumphantly at some distant companions, pulled his pole out of the peat with some effort, and splashed away.
    ‘Did he see us?’ said Rincewind.
    ‘No, not yet. That’s young Darwin,’ said Ponder. ‘Very keen on collecting all sorts of wildlife. Collecting was enormous popular among the English of this century. Bones, shells, butterflies, birds, other people’s countries … all sorts of things.’
    ‘Man after my own heart!’ said Ridcully, cheerfully. ‘I had the best pressed lizard collection ever when I was that age!’
    ‘Can’t see a beagle anywhere, though,’ said Rincewind, gloomily. He got edgy in the absence of his hat, and tried to stand under