Unseen Academicals

concerned about the fighting in the streets yesterday. We heard a rumour that someone was killed because he supported the wrong team. We can’t stand by and let this sort of thing happen.’
    ‘So you’ll be shutting down the Assassins’ Guild, will you, sir?’
    There was a gasp from every mouth, including her own. The only rational thought that didn’t flee from her mind was: I wonder if that job is still going in the Fools’ Guild? The pay wasn’t much, but they do know how to appreciate a pie.
    When she dared look, the Archchancellor was staring at the ceiling, while his fingers drummed on the table. I should have been more careful , Glenda whined in her own ear. Don’t get chatty with nobs. You forget what you are, but they don’t.
    The drumming stopped. ‘Good point, well put,’ said Ridcully, ‘and I shall marshal my responses thusly.’ He flicked a finger and, with a smell of gooseberries and a pop , a small red globe appeared in the air over the table.
    ‘One: the Assassins, while deadly, are not random, and indeed are mostly a danger to one another. Assassination is only to be feared, generally speaking, by those powerful enough to have a stab, as it were, at defending themselves.’
    Another little globe appeared.
    ‘Two: it is an article of faith with them that property is undamaged. They are invariably courteous and considerate and notoriously silent, and would never dream of inhuming their target in a public street.’
    A third globe appeared.
    ‘Three: they are organized and therefore amenable to civic influence. Lord Vetinari is very keen on that sort of thing.’
    And another globe popped into life.
    ‘And four: Lord Vetinari is himself a trained Assassin, majoring in stealth and poisons. I am not sure he would share your opinion. And he is a Tyrant even if he has developed tyranny to such a point of metaphysical perfection that it is a dream rather than a force. He does not have to listen to you, you see. He doesn’t even have to listen to me. He listens to the city. I don’t know how he does, but he does. And he plays it like a violin’–Ridcully paused, then went on–‘or like the most complicated game you can imagine. The city works, not perfectly, but better than it has ever done. I think it’s time for football to change too.’ He smiled at her expression. ‘What is your job, young lady? Because you are wasted in it.’
    It was probably meant as a compliment, but Glenda, her head so bewilderingly full of the Archchancellor’s words that they were trickling out of her ears, heard herself say, ‘I’m certainly not wasted, sir! You’ve never eaten better pies than mine! I run the Night Kitchen!’
    The metaphysics of real politics were not a subject of interest to most of those present, but they knew where they were with pies. She was the centre of attention already, but now it blazed with interest.
    ‘You do?’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘We thought it was the pretty girl.’
    ‘Really?’ said Glenda brightly. ‘Well, I run it.’
    ‘So who does that wonderful pie you send up here sometimes, with the cheese pastry and the hot pickle layer?’
    ‘The Ploughman’s Pie? Me, sir. My own recipe.’
    ‘Really? How do you manage to get the pickled onions to stay so hard and crispy in the baking? It’s just amazing!’
    ‘My own recipe, sir,’ said Glenda firmly. ‘It wouldn’t be mine if I told anyone else.’
    ‘Well said,’ said Ridcully gleefully. ‘You can’t go around asking craftsmen the secrets of their trade, old chap. It’s a thing you just don’t do. Now, I am concluding this meeting, although what it has in fact concluded I shall decide later.’ He turned back to Glenda. ‘Thank you for coming here today, Miss Glenda, and I shall not enquire why a young lady who works in the Night Kitchen is pouring tea up here at nearly noon. Do you have any further advice for us?’
    ‘Well,’ said Glenda, ‘since you ask…No, I really shouldn’t say…’
    ‘This is hardly the moment for bashfulness, do you think?’
    ‘Well, it’s about your strip, sir. That means your team colours. Nothing wrong with red and yellow, no one else uses those two, but, well, you want two big U’s on the front, right? Like UU?’ She waved her hands in the air.
    ‘Yes, that is exactly right. After all, it’s what we are.’ Ridcully nodded.
    ‘Are you sure? I mean, I know you gentlemen are bachelors and all, but…well, you’ll look like you’ve