Terry Pratchett - The Science of Discworld I

Yet it may be part of some process that makes us human beings. As Death points out in Hogfather, humans seem to need to project a kind of interior decoration on to the universe, so that they spend much of the time in a world of their own making. We seem, at least, at the moment, to need these things. Concepts like gods, truth [33] 'Truth' is a privative in the same way that 'sober' is - until you invent lies, you don't know what the truth is. Nature appears to, otherwise animals would not have invested so much effort on very effective camouflage. and soul appear to exist only in so far as humans consider them to do so (although elephants are known to get uneasy and puzzled upon finding elephant bones in the wild, whether this is because of some dim concept of the Big Savannah In The Sky or merely because it's manifestly not a good idea to stay in a place where ele­phants get killed is unknown). But they work some magic for us. They add narrativium to our culture. They bring pain, hope, despair, and comfort. They wind up our elastic. Good or bad, they've made us into people.

We wonder if the users thought that that cold-focusing mirror worked some magic for them. We can think of several ways in which it might appear to. And some very clever friends of ours are per­suaded that souls might exist, too. Nearly everything is a process on some level. To a physicist, matter is a process carried out by a quan­tum wave function. And quantum wave functions exist only when the person you're arguing with asserts that they don't, so maybe souls exist in the same way.

In this area, we have to admit the science doesn't know every­thing. Science is based on not knowing everything. But it does know some things.

IT WAS DIFFICULT EATING SANDWICHES that you couldn't see. Rincewind was aware that back in the real world the Librarian was handing them to him, and he had to take it on trust that they were going to be cheese and chutney. As it turned out, he detected a hint of banana, too.

The wizards were shocked. It's terrible to find that you can't do what you like with your own universe.

'So we can't just magic life into the Project?' said the Dean.

Tin afraid not, sir,' said Ponder. 'We have quite a lot of control over things, but only in a very subtle way. I have gone into this'

'I don't call moving huge worlds very subtle,' said the Dean.

'In Project terms, even moving the moon into place took a hun­dred thousand years,' said Ponder. 'Time prefers to move faster in there. It's amazing what you can move if you give it a little push for that long.'

'But we've done so many things...'

'Just moved things around, sir.'

'Seems a shame to have made a world and there's no one to live on it,' said the Senior Wrangler.

'When I was small, I had a model farmyard,' said the Bursar, looking up from his reading.

'Thank you, Bursar. Very interesting,' said the Archchancellor. 'All right, let's play by the rules. What do you have to move around to get people?'

'Well ... bits of other people, my father told me,' said the Dean.

'Bad taste there, Dean.'

'Many religions start with dust,' said the Senior Wrangler. 'And then you bring it alive in some way.'

'That's pretty hard even with magic,' said the Archchancellor. 'And we can't use magic.'

'Up in Nothingfjord they believe that all life was created when the god Noddi cut off his ... unmentionables and hurled them at the sun, who was his father,' said the Senior Wrangler.

'What, you mean his ... underwear?' said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, who could be a bit slow.

'First of all we can't physically exist inside the Project, secondly that sort of thing is unhygienic, and thirdly I doubt very much if you'll find a volunteer,' said the Archchancellor sharply. 'Anyway, we're men of magic. That is superstition.'

'Can we make weather, then?' said the Dean.

'I think HEX can let us do that,' said Ponder. 'Weather is only pushing stuff around.'

'So we can aim lightning at anyone we don't like?'

'But there isn't anyone on the world, whether we like them or not,' said Ponder wearily. 'That's the point .'

'And while the Dean can make enemies anywhere, I think that, ah, Round worldwould test even his powers,' said Ridcully.

'Thank you, Archchancellor'

'Happy to oblige, Dean.'

HEX's keyboard clattered. The quill pen began to write.

It began:

+++ I Don't Think You Are Going To Believe This +++

Thunderstorms tore the air apart, far out to sea.

The air blinked. The storm was gone. The shoreline looked dif­ferent.

'Hey, what happened?' said Rincewind.

'Everything all right?' said Ponder Stibbons in his ear.

'What happened just then?'

'We've moved you forward in time a little,' said Ponder The tone of his voice suggested that he dreaded being asked why.

'Why?' said Rincewind.

'You'll laugh when I tell you this ...'

'Oh, good. I like a laugh.'

'HEX says he's detecting life all round you. Can you see any­thing?'

Rincewind looked around warily. The sea was sucking at the shore, which had a bit of sand on it now. Scum rolled in the waves.

'No,' he said.

'Good. You see, there can't be any life where you are,' Ponder went on.

'Where am I exactly?'

'Er ... a sort of magical world with no one in it but yourself'

'Oh, you mean the sort everyone lives in,' said Rincewind bit­terly. He glanced at the sea again, just in case.

'But if you wouldn't mind having a look ...' Ponder went on.

'For this life that can't possibly exist?'

'Well, you are the Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography.'

'It's the cruel and unusual geography that's bothering me,' said Rincewind. 'Incidentally, have you looked at the sea lately? It's blue.'

'Well? The sea is blue.'

'Really?'

The omniscope was once again the centre of attention.

'Everyone knows the sea is blue,' said the Dean. 'Ask anyone.'

'That's right,' said Ridcully. 'However, while everyone knows the sea is blue, what everyone usually sees is a sea that's grey or dark green. Not this colour. This is virulent!'

'I'd say turquoise,' said the Senior Wrangler.

'I used to have a shirt that colour,' said the Bursar.

'I thought it might be copper salts in the water,' said Ponder Stibbons. 'But it isn't.'

The Archchancellor picked up HEX's latest write-out. It read:

+++ Out Of Cheese Error +++

'Not helpful,' he muttered.

'Thank goodness he's still operating the Project,' said Ponder, joining him. 'I think he's got confused.'

'It's not his job to be confused,' said Ridcully. 'We don't need a machine for being confused. We're entirely capable of confusin'

ourselves. It is a human achievement, confusion, and right at this minute I feel I am winning a prize. You, Mister Stibbons, said there was no possibility of life turnin' up inside the Project.'

Ponder waved his hands frantically. 'There's no way that it can! Life isn't like rocks and water. Life is special!'

The breath of gods, that sort of thing?' said Ridcully.

'Not gods as such, obviously, but...'

'I suppose from the point of view of rocks, rocks are special,' said Ridcully, still reading HEX's output.

'No, sir. Rocks don't have a point of view.'

Rincewind lifted up a shard of rock, very carefully, ready to drop it immediately at the merest suggestion of tooth or claw.

'This is silly,' he said. 'There's nothing here.'

'Nothing?' said Ponder, inside the helmet.

'Some of the rocks have got all kind of yuk on them, if that's your idea of a good time.'

'Yuk?'