Unseen Academicals

well-executed war.’
    ‘Oh, I don’t think many people would say that war is very jolly,’ said Ridcully.
    ‘Beauty can be considered to be neutral, sir. It is not the same as nice or good.’
    ‘I thought it was the same as truth, though,’ said Ponder, trying to keep up.
    ‘Which is often horrible, sir, but Mister Librarian’s leap was both beautiful, sir, and good, sir, and therefore must be true and therefore the rule which should prevent him from doing it again would be proved to be neither beautiful nor true and would, indeed, be a false law.’
    ‘That’s right, guv,’ said Trev. ‘People will shout for that stuff.’
    ‘Do you mean that they’d cheer for a goal not achieved?’ said Ponder.
    ‘Of course they will! And groan! It’s something happening,’ Ridcully snorted. ‘You saw the game the other day! If you were lucky, you got a glimpse of a lot of large, grubby men fighting over a ball like a lump of wood. People want to see goals scored!’
    ‘And saved, remember!’ Trev pointed out.
    ‘Exactly, young man,’ agreed Ridcully. ‘It must be a game of speed. This is the year of the Pensive Hare, after all. People get bored so easily. No wonder there are fights. We need, do we not, to make a sport that is more exciting than beating other people over the head with big weapons.’
    ‘That one’s always been very popular,’ said Ponder doubtfully.
    ‘Well, we are wizards, after all. And now I must go and greet the bloody, the so-called Archchancellor of Brazeneck so-called College in the correct damn spirit of fraternal goodwill!’
    ‘So called,’ murmured Ponder, not quite softly enough.
    ‘What say?’ the Archchancellor bellowed.
    ‘Just wondering what you want me to do, Archchancellor?’
    ‘Do? Keep ’em playing! See who’s good at it! Work out what the most beautiful rules are,’ Ridcully called out, heading out of the Hall at speed.
    ‘By myself?’ said Ponder, horrified. ‘I’ve got a huge workload!’
    ‘Delegate!’
    ‘You know I’m hopeless at delegating, sir!’
    ‘Then delegate the job of delegating to someone who isn’t! Now, I must be off before he steals the silverware!’

    It was very rare for Glenda to take time off. Being the head of the Night Kitchen was a mental state, not a physical one. The only meal she ever ate at home was breakfast, and that was always in a hurry. But now she’d stolen some time to sell the dream. May Hedges was looking after the kitchen and she was reliable and got on with everyone and so there were no worries there.
    The sun had come out and now she knocked on the rear door of Mr Stronginthearm’s workshop. The dwarf opened the door with rouge all over his fingers. ‘Oh, hello, Glenda. How’s it going?’
    She thumped a wad of orders on the table proudly and opened the suitcase. It was empty. ‘And I need a lot more samples,’ she said.
    ‘Oh, that’s wonderful,’ said the dwarf. ‘When did you get these?’
    ‘This morning.’
    It had been easy . Door after door seemed to have opened for her and every time a little voice in her head said, ‘Are you doing the right thing?’ a slightly deeper voice, which sounded remarkably like Madame Sharn, said, ‘He wants to make it. You want to sell it. They want to buy it. The dream goes round and round and so does the money.’
    ‘The lipstick went down very well,’ she said. ‘Those troll girls put it on with a trowel and I’m not kidding. So what you ought to do, sir, is sell a trowel. A pretty one, in a nice box with sprinkles on it.’
    He gave her an admiring look. ‘This isn’t like you, Glenda.’
    ‘Not sure about that,’ said Glenda, as more samples were dropped into the battered case. ‘Have you thought about getting into shoes?’
    ‘Do you think it would be worth a try? They don’t normally wear shoes.’
    ‘They didn’t wear lipstick until they moved here,’ said Glenda. ‘It could be the coming thing.’
    ‘But they’ve got feet like granite. They don’t need shoes.’
    ‘But they’ll want them,’ said Glenda. ‘You could be in on the ground floor, as it were.’
    Stronginthearm looked puzzled and Glenda remembered that even city dwarfs were used to the topsy-turvy language of home. ‘Oh, sorry, I meant to say the top floor.’
    ‘And then there’s dresses,’ said Glenda. ‘I’ve been looking around and no one makes proper dresses for trolls. They’re just outsized human dresses. And they’re cut to make the troll look