Soul Music

carefully, on the table and looked at the ceiling for a while. Then he said:
    ALBERT?
    Albert appeared from behind a pillar.
    WOULD YOU BE SO GOOD AS TO MAKE ME A CUP OF TEA, PLEASE.
    “Yes, Master. Hehe, you sorted him out right enough—”
    THANK YOU.
    Albert scurried off in the direction of the kitchen.
    Once again there was the closest thing there could ever be to silence in the room of lifetimers…
    YOU’D BETTER COME OUT.
    Susan did so, and stood before the Ultimate Reality.
    Death was seven feet tall. He looked taller. Susan had vague memories of a figure carrying her on its shoulders through the huge dark rooms, but in memory it had been a human figure—bony, but human in a way she was certain of but couldn’t quite define.
    This wasn’t human. It was tall, and haughty, and terrible. He might unbend enough to bend the Rules, Susan thought, but that doesn’t make him human. This is the keeper of the gate of the world. Immortal, by definition. The end of everything.
    He is my grandfather .
    Will be, anyway. Is. Was.
    But…there was the thing in the apple tree. Her mind kept swinging back to that. You looked up at the figure, and thought about the tree. It was almost impossible to keep both images in one mind.
    WELL, WELL, WELL. YOU HAVE A LOT OF YOUR MOTHER ABOUT YOU, said Death. AND YOUR FATHER.
    “How did you know who I am?” said Susan.
    I HAVE A UNIQUE MEMORY.
    “How can you remember me? I haven’t even been conceived yet!”
    I DID SAY UNIQUE. YOUR NAME IS—?
    “Susan, but…”
    SUSAN? said Death bitterly. THEY REALLY WANTED TO MAKE SURE, DIDN’T THEY?
    He sat down in his chair, steepled his fingers, and looked at Susan over the top of them.
    She looked back, matching stare for stare.
    TELL ME, said Death, after a while, WAS I…WILL I BE… AM I A GOOD GRANDFATHER?
    Susan bit her lip thoughtfully.
    “If I tell you, won’t that be a paradox?”
    NOT FOR US.
    “Well…you’ve got bony knees.”
    Death stared at her.
    BONY KNEES?”
    “Sorry.”
    YOU CAME HERE TO TELL ME THAT?
    “You’ve gone missing back…there. I’m having to do the Duty. Albert is very worried. I came here to…find things out. I didn’t know my father worked for you.”
    HE WAS VERY BAD AT IT.
    “What have you done with him?”
    THEY’RE SAFE FOR NOW. I’M GLAD IT’S OVER. HAVING PEOPLE AROUND WAS BEGINNING TO AFFECT MY JUDGMENT. AH, ALBERT…
    Albert had appeared on the edge of the carpet, bearing a tea tray.
    ANOTHER CUP, IF YOU WOULD BE SO GOOD.
    Albert looked around, and totally failed to see Susan. If you could be invisible to Miss Butts, everyone else was easy.
    “If you say so, Master.”
    SO, said Death, when Albert had shuffled away, I HAVE GONE MISSING. AND YOU BELIEVE YOU HAVE INHERITED THE FAMILY BUSINESS. YOU?
    “I didn’t want to! The horse and the rat just turned up!”
    RAT?
    “Er…I think that’s something that’s going to happen.”
    OH, YES, I REMEMBER. HMM. A HUMAN DOING MY JOB? TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE, OF COURSE, BUT WHY?
    “I think Albert knows something, but he changes the subject.”
    Albert reappeared, carrying another cup and saucer. He plonked it down pointedly on Death’s desk, with the air of one who is being put upon.
    “That’ll be all, will it, Master?” he said.
    THANK YOU, ALBERT. YES.
    Albert left again, more slowly than normal. He kept looking over his shoulder.
    “He doesn’t change, does he?” said Susan. “Of course, that’s the point about this place—”
    WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT CATS?
    “Sorry?”
    CATS. DO YOU LIKE ’EM?
    “They’re…” Susan hesitated, “all right. But a cat’s just a cat.”
    CHOCOLATE, said Death. DO YOU LIKE CHOCOLATE?
    “I think it’s possible to have too much,” said Susan.
    YOU CERTAINLY DON’T TAKE AFTER YSABELL.
    Susan nodded. Her mother’s favorite dish had been Genocide by Chocolate.
    AND YOUR MEMORY? YOU HAVE A GOOD MEMORY?
    “Oh, yes. I…remember things. About how to be Death. About how it’s all supposed to work. Look, just then you said you remembered about the rat, and it hasn’t even happ—”
    Death stood up and strode across to the model of the Discworld.
    MORPHIC RESONANCE, he said, not looking at Susan. DAMN. PEOPLE DON’T BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND IT. SOUL HARMONICS. IT’S RESPONSIBLE FOR SO MANY THINGS.
    Susan pulled out Imp’s lifetimer. Blue smoke was still pouring through the pinch.
    “Can you help me with this?” she said.
    Death spun around.
    I SHOULD NEVER HAVE ADOPTED YOUR MOTHER.
    “Why