The Last Continent

look on the bright side. We may all be drowned.”
    “Er…sir? Have you looked at the horizon?”

    The everlasting storm was seven thousand miles long but only a mile wide, a great turning, boiling mass of enraged air circling the last continent like a family of foxes circling a henhouse.
    The clouds were mounded up all the way to the edge of the atmosphere—and they were ancient clouds now, clouds that had rolled around their tortured circuit for years, building up personality and hatred and, above all, voltage.
    It was not a storm, it was a battle. Mere gales, a few hundred miles long, fought amongst themselves within the cloud wall. Lightning forked from thunderhead to thunderhead, rain fell and flashed into steam half a mile from the ground.
    The air glowed.
    And below, emerging from the ocean of potentiality in a rainstorm so thunderous that it was no more than a descending sea, rose the last continent.

    On the wall of the deserted cell in Bugarup Gaol, among the scratches and stick drawings and tallies of a man’s last few days, a drawing of a sheep became a drawing of a kangaroo and then faded completely into the stone.

    “So?” said the Dean. “We’re in for a bit of a blow?”
    The gray line filled the immediate future like a dental appointment.
    “I think it might be a lot worse,” said Ponder.
    “Well, let’s steer somewhere else, then.”
    “There’s no rudder, sir. And we don’t know where anywhere else is . And we’re low on water anyway.”
    “Don’t they say that a big bank of cloud means there’s land ahead?” said the Dean.
    “Bloody big land, then. EcksEcksEcksEcks, do you think?”
    “I hope so, sir.” Above Ponder, the sail flapped and billowed. “Wind’s freshening, sir. I think the storm’s sucking the air towards it. And…there’s something else, I think. I wish I hadn’t left my thaumometer on the beach, sir, because I think here’s a very high level of background magic in this area.”
    “What makes you say this, boy?” said the Dean.
    “Well, for one thing everyone seems to be getting a bit tense, and wizards tend to get stro—to get touchy in the presence of large amounts of magic,” said Ponder. “But my suspicions were first aroused when the Bursar developed planets.”
    There were two of them, orbiting his head at a height of a few inches. As was so often the case with magical phenomena, they possessed virtual unreality and passed unscathed through him and one another. They were slightly transparent.
    “Oh dear, Mugroop’s Syndrome,” said Ridcully. “Cerebral manifestation. Better than a canary down a coalmine, a sign like that.”
    A little sub-routine in Ponder’s head began a short countdown.
    “Remember old ‘Dicky’ Bird?” said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. “He—”
    “Three! No, I don’t, as a matter of fact. Do tell!” Ponder heard himself bark, louder than he would have done even if he had meant to vocalize his thoughts.
    “Indeed I shall, Mister Stibbons,” said the Chair calmly. “He was very susceptible to high magical fields, and if his mind wandered, as it might do when he was dozing off, sometimes around his head there’d be, hehehe, there’d be these little—”
    “Yes, certainly,” said Ponder, quickly. “We’ll have to be very careful to keep an eye open for unusual behavior.”
    “Among wizards?” said Ridcully. “Mister Stibbons, unusual behavior is perfectly ordinary for wizards.”
    “People acting out of character, then!” Ponder shouted. “Talking sense for two minutes together, perhaps! Acting like normal civilized people instead of a herd of self-regarding village idiots!”
    “Stibbons, it’s not like you to take that tone,” said Ridcully.
    “That’s what I mean!”
    “Now then, Mustrum, go easy on him, we’re all under a lot of stress,” said the Dean.
    “Now he’s doing it!” Ponder yelled, pointing a shaking finger. “The Dean is normally never nice! Now he’s being aggressively reasonable!”
    Historians have pointed out that it is in times of plenty that people feel like going to war. In times of famine they’re simply trying to find enough to eat. When they’ve just enough to go round they tend to be polite. But when a banquet is spread before them, it’s time to argue over the place settings. *
    And Unseen University, as even wizards realized at somewhere just below the top level of their minds, existed not to further magic but, in a very creative way, to suppress