The Science of Discworld II

surprise by quite a lot.
    Occasionally the Librarian would stop, and sniff at the books nearest to him. At last he said ‘ook’, quietly, and pointed to another stack of books. There were, drawn gently on the spine of an old leather-bound volume, some chalk marks.
    â€˜Librarian-sign,’ said Rincewind. ‘He’s been here before. We’re close to Roundworld book-space.’
    â€˜How could he—’ Ponder began, and then said: ‘Oh. I see. Er … Roundworld exists in L-space even before we created it? I mean yes , obviously I know that’s true, but even so—’
    Rincewind took a book from a pile near him. The cover was brightly coloured and made of paper, suggesting an absence of cows on the originating world, and had the title: Sleep Well My Lovely Falcon . The words inside made even less sense.
    â€˜It might not have been worth our trouble,’ he said.
    The Librarian said ‘ook’, which Rincewind understood as ‘I’m going to get into real trouble with the Secret Masters of the Library for this day’s work’.
    Then the ape appeared to triangulate on the bookscape around him, and knuckled forward, and vanished.
    Ponder looked at Rincewind. ‘Did you see how he did that?’ he said, and then a hairy red arm appeared out of the air and jerked him off his feet. A moment later the same thing happened to Rincewind.
    It wasn’t much of a library, but Rincewind knew how this worked. Two books were a library – for a lot of people, two books were an enormous library. But even one book could be a library, if it was a book that made a big enough dimple in L-space. A book with a title like 100 Ways with Broccoli was unlikely to be one such, whereas The Relationship Between Capital and Labour might be, especially if it had an appendix on making explosives. The deeply magical and interminably ancient volumes in the Library of UU strained the fabric of L-space like a baby elephant on a worn-out trampoline, leaving it so thin that the Library was a potent and easy portal.
    Sometimes, though, even one book could do that. Even one line. Even one word, in the right place and the right time.
    The room was large, panelled and sparsely furnished. Quite a lot of paperwork was strewn on a desk. Quill pens lay by an inkwell. A window looked out on to broad gardens, where it was raining. A skull lent a homely touch.
    Rincewind leaned down and tapped it.
    â€˜Hello?’ he said. He looked up at the others.
    â€˜Well, the one in the Dean’s office can sing comic songs,’ he said defensively. He stared at the paperwork on the desk. It was covered in symbols which had a magical look, although he didn’t recognise any of them. On the other side of the room, the Librarian was leafing through one of the books. Strangely, they weren’t on shelves. Some were neatly piled, others locked in boxes, or at least in boxes that were locked until the Librarian tried to lift the lid.
    Occasionally he pursed his lips and blew a disdainful raspberry.
    â€˜Ook,’ he muttered.
    â€˜Alchemy?’ said Rincewind. ‘Oh dear. That stuff never works.’ He lifted up what looked like a small leather hatbox, and removed the lid. ‘This is more like it!’ he said, and pulled out a ball of smoky quartz. ‘Our man is definitely a wizard!’
    â€˜This is very bad,’ said Ponder, staring at a device in his hand. ‘Very, very bad indeed.’
    â€˜What is?’ said Rincewind, turning around quickly.
    â€˜I’m reading a very high glamour quotient,’ said Ponder.
    â€˜There’s elves here?’
    â€˜Here? The place is practically elvish!’ said Ponder. ‘The Archchancellor was right.’
    All three explorers stood quietly. The Librarian’s nostrils flared. Rincewind sniffed, very cautiously.
    â€˜Seems okay to me,’ he said, at last.
    Then a man in black entered the room. He came in quickly, opening the door no more than necessary, in a kind of aggressive sidle, and stopped in astonishment. Then his hand flew to his belt and he drew a thin, businesslike sword.
    He saw the Librarian. He stopped. And then it was really all over, because the Librarian could unfold his arm very fast and, importantly, there was a fist like a sledgehammer on the end of it.
    As the dark figure slid down the wall, the crystal sphere in Rincewind’s hand said: ‘I believe I now have enough