The Science of Discworld Revised Edition

day.’
    ‘It was the music that really got on
my
nerves,’ said the Senior Wrangler.
    ‘Oh,
well
, good job the planet’s a snowball, then,’ said Rincewind.
    ‘I call this meeting to order,’ said Ridcully, thumping the table. ‘Where’s the Bursar?’
    The wizards looked around the main hall of the High Energy Magic building.
    ‘I saw him half an hour ago,’ the Dean volunteered.
    ‘We are quorate, nevertheless,’ said Ridcully. ‘Now … the magic flux is almost run down, although H EX reports that the model universe appears to be continuing on internal power. Amazing the way the whole place seems to strive to keep existing. However … gentlemen, the project is at an end. All it is has taught us is that you can’t make a world out of bits and pieces. You need chelonium for a
proper
world. And you certainly need narrativium, otherwise the life you get is a lot of opening chapters. A comet is no way to end a story. Ice and fire … that’s
very
primitive.’
    ‘Poor old crabs,’ said the Senior Wrangler.
    ‘Goodbye, lizards,’ said the Dean.
    ‘Farewell, my limpet,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
    ‘What were the ones that left?’ said Ponder.
    ‘Er …’ said Rincewind.
    ‘Yes?’ said the Archchancellor.
    ‘Oh, nothing. I had a thought … but it couldn’t possibly work.’
    ‘Some of the bears seemed quite bright,’ said Ridcully, who had naturally sided with a lifeform that resembled him in several particulars.
    ‘Yes, yes, it was probably the bears,’ said Rincewind quickly.
    ‘We couldn’t watch the whole world all the time,’ said Ponder. ‘Something could have evolved quickly, I suppose.’
    ‘Yes, that’s right, something probably evolved quickly,’ said Rincewind. ‘I shouldn’t think there was any unauthorized interference in any way.’
    ‘Good luck to them, whatever shape they’re in,’ said Ridcully. He assembled his papers. ‘That’s it, then. I won’t say it hasn’t been an interesting few days, but reality calls. Yes, Rincewind?’
    ‘What are we going to do with the snow globe – I mean, the world?’ said Rincewind.
    As one wizard, they looked across at the world spinning gently in its dome.
    ‘Is it any use to us, Mister Stibbons?’ said Ridcully.
    ‘As a curiosity, sir.’
    ‘This university is
stuffed
with curiosities, young man.’
    ‘Well, then … only as very large paperweight.’
    ‘Ah. Rincewind … you
are
the Professor of Cruel and Usual Geography, so I suppose this is
right
up your street –’
    There was a rattle from H EX ’s tray. Ponder pulled out the paper.
    It said: +++ The Project Must Be Kept Safe +++
    ‘Fine. Rincewind can put it on a high shelf so that it doesn’t get knocked,’ said Ridcully, rubbing his hands together.
    +++ Recursion Is Occurring +++
    Ridcully blinked at the writing.
    ‘Is that a problem?’
    H EX creaked. There was a flurry of activity in the ant tubes. Eventually the write-out clattered for some time.
    Ponder picked up the message.
    ‘Er … it’s addressed to Mrs Whitlow,’ he said. Er … it’s rather odd …’
    Ridcully looked over his shoulder.
    ‘“Don’t Dust It”,’ he read.
    ‘She’s a devil with a duster,’ said the Senior Wrangler. ‘The Dean nails his door shut when he leaves his study.’
    The write-out clattered again.
    ‘“This Is Important”,’ Ponder read.
    ‘Not a problem, not a problem,’ said Ridcully. ‘So on to the next item. Ah, yes. We have to shut down the reacting engine. No, don’t get up, Rincewind, I’ve had the door locked. The interior of the squash court is still just a tiny bit not entirely completely safe, is that right, Mr Stibbons?’
    ‘Very definitely!’
    ‘And therefore the area within it quite clearly counts as –’
    ‘Let me guess,’ said Rincewind. ‘It’s cruel and unusual geography, yes?’
    ‘Well, done, that man! And all you have to do –’
    A sound that
had
been on the limit of hearing suddenly descended through the scales. And there was silence.
    ‘What’s that?’ said Ridcully.
    ‘Nothing,’ said Rincewind, with unusual accuracy.
    ‘The reacting engine has shut down,’ said Ponder.
    ‘By itself?’
    ‘Not unless it can pull its own levers, no …’
    The wizards clustered around the door to the old squash court. Ponder held up his thaumometer.
    ‘There’s hardly any flux now,’ he said. ‘It’s practically background … Stand back …’
    He opened the door.
    A couple of white pigeons flew