Unseen Academicals

pulse.’
    ‘I think that’s because neither of them were thinking about themselves, perhaps,’ said Nutt.
    ‘Neither of them was thinking at all,’ said Glenda, ‘and they certainly weren’t thinking about each other as people. A little common sense and they would be alive. It’s made-up, like books. I don’t think anyone sensible would act like that.’
    He squeezed her hand. ‘Sometimes you speak like Ladyship,’ he said, ‘and that reminds me.’
    ‘Reminds you of what?’
    ‘It’s time for me to meet my maker.’

    Andy Shank walked unsteadily among the night-time alleys, secure in the knowledge that they contained nothing worse than him, a belief which, as it happened, was in error.
    ‘Mister Shank?’
    ‘Who’s asking?’ he said, turning around and reaching instinctively into his coat for his new cutlass.
    But another knife, silver and thin, sliced twice and a foot expertly stamped the length of his shin and forced him to the ground. ‘Me! I’m the happy ending. You can call me the good fairy. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to see by the time you wipe the blood out of your eyes and, as they say, now you won’t have to pay for a drink in any bar in this town, though I suspect you never have.’
    His attacker leaned nonchalantly against the wall.
    ‘And the reason I am doing this, Mister Shank, is that I am a bastard. I am an old bugger. I am a sod. They let you get away with it because they were nice people and, you know, the world needs someone like me to set the balance square. Since before you were born I have known people like you. Tormentors, bullies and thieves. Ah yes, thieves. Thieves of other people’s self-respect. Thieves of their peace of mind. Now Mister Nutt, he’s an orc and I’ve heard that he can talk people better. Well, so be it, say I. If it works, he’s a genius, but that don’t square things, not in my book, so I thought you ought to meet Pepe, just to say hello. If I ever see you again, they’ll never find all the pieces, but just to show that I have a decent streak, here’s something to put on your wounds.’
    Something landed softly near Andy’s groping hand.
    Andy, dripping blood and snot on to the pavement, reached around quickly as the trim little footsteps disappeared, thinking only of getting the blood out of his eyes and revenge and retribution out of his heart. And in the circumstances, therefore, he should not have wiped the half-lemon across his face.

You think it’s all over?

It is a regrettable fact that when two people are dining at a very large and impressive dining table they sit at the opposite ends of the long axis. This is incredibly stupid and makes conversation difficult and the passing of food impossible, but even Lord Vetinari and Lady Margolotta had apparently signed up to the idea.
    On the other hand, they both ate very little and so there wasn’t very much to pass.
    ‘Your secretary seems to be getting on very well with my librarian,’ said Lady Margolotta.
    ‘Yes,’ observed Vetinari. ‘Apparently they are comparing ring binders. He has invented a new one.’
    ‘Well, for the proper working of the world,’ said Lady Margolotta, ‘it is essential that ring binders are important to at least one person.’ She put down her glass and looked towards the door.
    ‘You seem nervous,’ said Vetinari. ‘Are you wondering how he will come?’
    ‘He has had a very long day and a remarkably successful one. And you say he’s gone to an amateur dramatics performance?’
    ‘Yes, with that very forthright young lady who makes the pies,’ said Vetinari.
    ‘I see,’ said Lady Margolotta. ‘He must know I am here and he’s gone off with a cook?’
    There was just a trace of a smile on Vetinari’s lips. ‘Not any cook. A genius amongst cooks.’
    ‘Well, I must admit to being surprised,’ said her ladyship.
    ‘And upset?’ said Vetinari. ‘A little jealous, perhaps?’
    ‘Havelock, you go too far!’
    ‘Would you expect otherwise? Besides, you must surely realize that his triumph is yours too?’
    ‘Did I tell you that I’ve seen some of them?’ said Margolotta after a while.
    ‘The orcs?’
    ‘Yes. They really are wretched. Of course, people say that about the goblins and while it is true that they religiously save their own snot, and, frankly, just about everything else, at least there is a logic to it.’
    ‘Well, a religious logic, at least,’ murmured Vetinari. ‘They tend to be quite