The Truth

writers?” she said. “You know Mr. Bendy, and this is Mrs. Tilly”—a small white-haired woman bobbed a curtsy to William—“who likes cats and really nasty murders, and Mr. O’Biscuit”—a rangy young man—“who’s all the way from Fourecks and looking for a job before he goes home.”
    “Really? What did you do in Fourecks, Mr. O’Biscuit?”
    “I was at Bugarup University, mate.”
    “You’re a wizard?”
    “No, mate. They threw me out, ’cos of what I wrote in the student magazine.”
    “What was that?”
    “Everything, really.”
    “Oh. And…Mrs. Tilly, I think you wrote a lovely well-spelled and grammatical letter to us suggesting that everyone under the age of eighteen should be flogged once a week to stop them being so noisy?”
    “Once a day, Mr. de Worde,” said Mrs. Tilly. “That’ll teach ’em to go around being young!”
    William hesitated. But the press needed feeding, and he and Sacharissa needed time off. Rocky was supplying some sports news, and while it was unreadable to William, he put it in on the basis that anyone keen on sport probably couldn’t read.
    There had to be more staff. It was worth a try.
    “Very well, then,” he said. “We’ll give you all a trial, starting right—oh.”
    He stood up. Everyone turned around to see why.
    “Please don’t bother,” said Lord Vetinari, from the doorway. “This is meant to be an informal visit. Taking on new staff, I see?”
    The Patrician walked across the floor, followed by Drumknott.
    “Er, yes,” said William. “Are you all right, sir?”
    “Oh, yes. Busy, of course. Such a lot of reading to catch up on. But I thought I should take a moment to come and see this ‘free press’ Commander Vimes has told me about at considerable length.” He tapped one of the iron pillars of the press with his cane. “However, it appears to be firmly bolted down.”
    “Er, no, sir. I mean ‘free’ in the sense of what is printed, sir,” said William.
    “But surely you charge money?”
    “Yes, but—”
    “Oh, I see . You meant you should be free to print what you like?”
    There was no escape. “Well…broadly, yes, sir.”
    “Because that’s in the—what was the other interesting term? Ah, yes…the public interest?” Lord Vetinari picked up a piece of type and inspected it carefully.
    “I think so, sir.”
    “These stories about man-eating goldfish and people’s husbands disappearing in big silver dishes?”
    “No, sir. That’s what people are interested in. We do the other stuff, sir.”
    “Amusingly shaped vegetables?”
    “Well, a bit of that, sir. Sacharissa calls them human interest stories.”
    “About vegetables and animals?”
    “Yes, sir. But at least they’re real vegetables and animals.”
    “So…we have what the people are interested in, and human interest stories, which is what humans are interested in, and the public interest, which no one is interested in.”
    “Except the public, sir,” said William, trying to keep up.
    “Which isn’t the same as people and humans?”
    “I think it’s more complicated than that, sir.”
    “Obviously. Do you mean that the public is a different thing from the people you just see walking about the place? The public thinks big, sensible measured thoughts while people run around doing silly things?”
    “I think so. I may have to work on that idea too, I admit.”
    “Hmm. Interesting. I have certainly noticed that groups of clever and intelligent people are capable of really stupid ideas,” said Lord Vetinari. He gave William a look which said, “I can read your mind, even the small print,” and then gazed around the pressroom again. “Well, I can see you have an eventful future ahead of you, and I would not wish to make it any more difficult than it is clearly going to be. I notice you have work going on…?”
    “We’re putting a semaphore post up,” said Sacharissa proudly. “We’ll be able to get a clacks straight from the big trunk tower. And we’re opening offices in Sto Lat and Pseudopolis!”
    Lord Vetinari raised his eyebrows. “My word,” he said. “Many new deformed vegetables will become available. I shall look forward with interest to seeing them.”
    William decided not to rise to this one.
    “It amazes me how the news you have so neatly fits the space available,” Lord Vetinari went on, staring down at the page Boddony was working on. “No little gaps anywhere. And every day something happens that is important enough