The Science of Discworld IV

delicate and precious thing, ‘It would seem, Mister Stibbons, that you have forgotten … the codicil.’
    ‘The codicil, Archchancellor?’
    ‘
Yes
, Mister Stibbons, the
codicil
which directs that the sex of a librarian is immaterial.’
    Theoretically, Ponder Stibbons was at this point treading on dangerous ground, were it not for the fact that he had both tenure and an encyclopaedic knowledge of the university that was second to none. And so he theoretically girded his theoretical loins and said, ‘Archchancellor, there
is
no such codicil. Believe me, sir, I am aware of all relevant university statutes and guidelines.’
    He was expecting a certain amount of noise about this and had stepped back a little before Mustrum Ridcully beamed at him and said, ‘My dear boy, there is a
de facto
codicil; surely if an orangutan – albeit one who has travelled
through
humanity on his way to a higher calling – can be our Librarian, and indeed the best librarian we have ever had apart from being the cheapest to feed, then a librarian who is also a lady can
certainly
work in our library
beardless
! After all, the convention that you do not need to be a human male to be a librarian is there in place
irrevocably
.’
    After the thunder had died away, Marjorie said, as cheerfully as possible, ‘Is it true you
have
an orangutan librarian? I knew it! I’ve seen him before – and so have others, although it is seldom openly discussed, just in case. The first time was when I had to go down to the stacks, and he must have been surprised because he handed me a fresh banana skin and disappeared. The head librarian told me not to mention it to younger librarians, and whispered, “You are lucky if it happens once in a lifetime.” And the second time—’
    ‘
Twice
in a lifetime, Miss Daw?’ Ridcully beamed. ‘Let us make it three. I’ll take you to meet him shortly, but first, alas, I must go andhave a chat with Mister Slant, who is our lawyer. I can hardly wait!
The game is afoot!
Yes, Mister Stibbons, you have a point?’
    ‘I do, Archchancellor. In a case like this I am sure that Lord Vetinari himself will want to be the adjudicator, to ensure fairness.’
    ‘What! But we
made
the Roundworld; it belongs to us as it is our creature. It’s not as if we just pulled it out of the air …’
    Ponder fell on that statement like a chess player taking the opponent’s Queen. ‘But pulling it out of the air was
exactly
what we did, Archchancellor. Exactly! You could say that it was
immanent
in the air, but whose imminence? It’s going to be a very interesting case …’
    ‘This is a very interesting case,’ said Mister Slant, the foremost lawyer in Ankh-Morpork, and indeed the most dead – at least, the most dead person who could tell you that he
was
dead. He rustled the papers in front of him, or possibly – since Mister Slant was the hardest-working zombie in Ankh-Morpork – they were his hands. He looked over the table at Ridcully and his face looked … well,
grave
… and his voice crackled; regrettably, there was no other way of putting it.
    ‘You see, Archchancellor, this isn’t just a squabble over a horse or a house; it goes beyond the occult into unknown regions –
expensive
regions. I am aware that the Church of the Latter-Day Omnians is seeking support from other religious groups, and it is no secret that some of them don’t have all that much love for wizardry; they think of it as trespassing.’
    Ridcully was outraged. ‘Trespass!?’
    Mister Slant gave a chuckle, which ended, as ever, as a crackle. ‘If I judge the temperature in the ecclesiastical circles, they find the Omnians dangerously old-fashioned and lacking any understanding of compromise; in short, the Omnians simply
know
they are right – and that, Archchancellor, is that. Incidentally, I heard this afternoon that Lord Vetinari is prepared to take this case under his wing, as he is the highest temporal power, which means that his word will be law.’He crackled through the papers on his desk again. ‘Ah, he can find time on Thursday.’
    The next day, Marjorie Daw was awakened by Mrs Whitlow with a bowl of bowel-scouring muesli, a teapot full of Earl Green tea, two hard-boiled eggs, and a copy of what turned out to be the
Ankh-Morpork Times
. On the front page, in big letters, was the headline: T HE C HALLENGE OF R OUND W ORLD . There was of course also an editorial, but like so many scribblings of that ilk it soft-pedalled when