The Fifth Elephant

more experience with the Colon personality, waved one hand frantically for silence while he held the other one to his ear, very theatrically.
    Then they all heard the door click open again, quietly.
    “A change is as good as a rest, I suppose,” said Constable Ping.
    “As the prophet Ossory says, better an oxen in the potters’ fields of Hersheba than a sandal in the wine presses of Gash,” said Constable Visit.
    “Yeah, so I’ve heard,” said Nobby. “Well, I’ll just make him his tea. Everyone feels better after a cup of tea.”
    A couple of minutes later the constables heard Colon shouting, even through the door.
    “What is wrong with this mug, Corporal?”
    “Nothing, Sa—sir. It’s yer mug. You always have your tea in it.”
    “Ah, but, you see, it is a sergeant’s mug, Corporal. And what is it that officers drink out of?”
    “Well, Carrot and Mister Vimes have got their own mugs—”
    “No, they may choose to drink out of mugs, Corporal, but Watch regulations say officers have a cup and saucer. Says so right here, regulation three-oh-one, subsection C. Do you understand me?”
    “I don’t think we’ve got any—”
    “You know where the petty cash is. Usually, you’re the only person that does. You’re dismissed, Corporal.”
    Nobby came down the stairs white-faced, holding the offending receptacle.
    The door opened again.
    “And none of you are to gob in it, neither!” shouted Colon. “I know that one! And it’s to be stirred with a spoon , understand? I know that one, too.” The door slammed.
    Constable Visit took the mug from Nobby’s shaking hand and patted him on the shoulder.
    “Chalky the troll does some very good seconds, I understand—” he began.
    The door opened.
    “Bloody china, too!”
    The door slammed.
    “Anyone seen the petty cash lately?” said Constable Ping.
    Nobby reached mournfully into his pocket and pulled out some dollars. He handed them to Visit.
    “Better go to that posh shop in Kings Way,” he said. “Get one of those cups and saucers thin enough to see through. You know, with gold around the rim.” He looked around the other constables. “What’re you lot doing here? You won’t catch many criminals in here !”
    “Does the petty cash count, Nobby?” said Ping.
    “Don’t you Nobby me, Ping! You just get out there! And the rest of you!”

    Days rolled by. More accurately, they rattled by. It was a comfortable coach, as coaches went, and as coaches on this road went over continual potholes, it swayed and rocked like a cradle. Initially, the motion was soothing. After a day or two, it palled. So did the scenery.
    Vimes stared glumly out of the window.
    There was another clacking tower on the horizon. They were putting them near the road, he recalled, even though that wasn’t the direct route. Only a fool would build them across the badlands. You had to remember, sometimes, that within a few hundred miles of Ankh-Morpork there were still trolls who hadn’t caught on to the fact that humans weren’t digestible. Besides, most of the settlements were near the road.
    The new guild must be coining money. Even from here he could see the scaffolding, as workers feverishly attached still more gantries and paddles to the main tower. The whole thing would likely be matchsticks after the next hurricane, but by then the owners would probably have earned enough to build another five. Or fifty.
    It had all happened so fast. Who’d have believed it? But all the components had been there for years. Semaphore was ancient—a century ago the Watch had used a few towers to relay messages to patrolling officers. And gargoyles had nothing to do all day but sit and watch things, and usually were too unimaginative to make mistakes.
    What had happened was that people thought differently about news now. Once upon a time they’d have used something like this to relay information about troop movements and the death of kings. True, that was something that people need to know, but they didn’t need to know it every day. No, what they needed to know every day were things like How much are cattle selling for in Ankh-Morpork today? Because, if they weren’t fetching much, maybe it was better to drive them to Quirm instead. People needed to know these little things. Lots and lots of little things. Little things like Did my ship get there safely? That’s why the Guild was driving hell-bent across the mountains on to Genua, four thousand miles away. It took many