Chris Patterson - Going Postal

The Lecturer in Recent Runes ladled more bacon bits into his salad bowl, having artfully constructed buttresses of celery and breastworks of cabbage to increase its depth five times.

‘Any of you Fellows know what this is all about?' he said, raising his voice above the din. ‘Seems to be upsetting a lot of people.'

‘It's this clacks business,' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘I've never trusted it. Poor Collabone. Decent young man in his way. A good man with a whelk. Seems to be in a spot of bother...'

It was quite a large spot. Devious Collabone was opening and shutting his mouth on the other side of the glass like a stranded fish.

In front of him, Mustrum Ridcully reddened with anger, his tried and tested approach to most problems.

‘... sorry, sir, but this is what it says and you asked me to read it,' Collabone protested. ‘It goes on and on, sir—'

‘And that's what the clacks people gave you?' the Archchancellor demanded. ‘Are you sure? '

‘Yes, sir. They did look at me in a funny way, sir, but this is definitely it. Why should I make anything up, Archchancellor? I spend most of my time in a tank, sir. A boring, boring, lonely tank, sir.'

‘Not one more word!' screamed Greenyham. ‘I forbid it!' Beside him, Mr Nutmeg had sprayed his drink across several dripping guests.

‘Excuse me? You forbid , sir?' said Ridcully, turning on Greenyham in sudden fury. ‘Sir, I am the Master of this college! I will not, sir, be told what to do in my own university! If there is anything to be forbidden here, sir, I will do the forbidding! Thank you! Go ahead, Mr Collabone!'

‘Er, er, er...' Collabone panted, longing for death.

‘I said carry on, man!'

‘Er, er... yes... " There was no safety. There was no pride. All there was, was money. Everything became money, and money became everything. Money treated us as if we were things, and we died— "‘

‘Is there no law in this place? That is outright slander!' shouted Stowley. ‘It's a trick of some sort!'

‘By whom, sir?' roared Ridcully. ‘Do you mean to suggest that Mr Collabone, a young wizard of great integrity, who I may say is doing wonderful work with snakes—'

‘—shellfish—' murmured Ponder Stibbons.

‘—shellfish, is playing some kind of joke ? How dare you, sir! Continue, Mr Collabone!'

‘I, I, I—'

‘That is an order , Dr Collabone!'*

* Archchancellor Ridcully was a great believer in retaliation by promotion. You couldn't have civilians criticizing one of his wizards. That was his job.

‘Er... " Blood oils the machinery of the Grand Trunk as willing, loyal people pay with their lives for the Board's culpable stupidity— " '

The hubbub rose again. Moist saw Lord Vetinari's gaze traverse the room. He didn't duck in time. The Patrician's stare passed right through him, carrying away who knew what. An eyebrow rose in interrogation. Moist looked away, and sought out Gilt.

He wasn't there.

In the omniscope Mr Collabone's nose now glowed like a beacon. He struggled, dropping pages, losing his place, but pressing on with the dogged, dull determination of a man who could spend all day

watching one oyster.

‘—nothing less than an attempt to blacken our good names in front of the whole city!' Stowley was protesting.

‘ "— unaware of the toll that is being taken. What can we say of the men who caused this, who sat in comfort round their table and killed us by numbers? This —" '

‘I will sue the University! I will sue the University!' screamed Greenyham. He picked up a chair and hurled it at the omniscope. Halfway to the glass it turned into a small flock of doves, which panicked and soared up to the roof.

‘Oh, please sue the University!' Ridcully bellowed. ‘We've got a pond full of people who tried to sue the University—'

‘Silence,' said Vetinari.

It wasn't a very loud word, but it had an effect rather like that of a drop of black ink in a glass of clear water. The word spread out in coils and tendrils, getting everywhere. It strangled the noise.

Of course, there is always someone not paying attention. ‘And furthermore,' Stowley went on, oblivious of the hush unfolding in his own little world of righteous indignation, ‘it's plain that—'

‘I will have silence,' Vetinari stated.

Stowley stopped, looked around and deflated. Silence ruled.

‘Very good,' said Vetinari quietly. He nodded at Commander Vimes of the Watch, who whispered to another watchman, who pushed his way though the crowd and towards the door.

Vetinari turned to Ridcully. ‘Archchancellor, I would be grateful if you would instruct your student to continue, please?' he said in the same calm tone.

‘Certainly! Off you go, Professor Collabone. In your own time.'

‘Er, er, er, er... it says further on: " The men obtained control of the Trunk via a ruse known as the Double Lever, in the main using money entrusted to them by clients who did not suspect that —"‘

‘Stop reading that!' Greenyham shouted. ‘This is ridiculous! It is just slander upon slander!'

‘I'm certain I spoke, Mr Greenyham,' said Vetinari.

Greenyham faltered.

‘Good. Thank you,' said Vetinari. ‘These are very serious allegations, certainly. Embezzlement? Murder? I'm sure that Mr— sorry, Professor Collabone is a trustworthy man' - in the omniscope Devious Collabone, Unseen University's newest professor, nodded desperately - ‘who is only reading what has been delivered, so it would appear that they have originated from within your own company. Serious allegations, Mr Greenyham. Made in front of all these people. Are you suggesting I should treat them as some sort of prank? The city is watching, Mr Greenyham. Oh, Stowley appears to be ill.'

‘This is not the place for—' Greenyham tried, aware once more of the creaking of ice.

‘It is the ideal place,' said Vetinari. ‘It is public . In the circumstances, given the nature of the allegations, I'm sure everyone would require that I get to the bottom of them as soon as possible, if only to prove them totally groundless.' He looked around. There was a chorus of agreement. Even the upper crust loved a show.

‘What do you say, Mr Greenyham?' said Vetinari.

Greenyham said nothing. The cracks were spreading, the ice was breaking up on every side.

‘Very well,' said Vetinari. He turned to the figure beside him.

‘Commander Vimes, be so kind as to send men to the offices of the Grand Trunk Company, Ankh-Sto Associates, Sto Plains Holdings, Ankh Futures and particularly to the premises of the Ankh-Morpork Mercantile Credit Bank. Inform the manager, Mr Cheeseborough, that the bank is closed for audit and I wish to see him in my office at his earliest convenience. Any person in any of those premises who so much as moves a piece of paper before my clerks arrive will be arrested and held complicit in any or all of such offences as may be uncovered. While this is happening, moreover, no person concerned with the Grand Trunk Company or any of its employees is to leave this room.'

‘You can't do that!' Greenyham protested weakly, but the fire had drained out of him. Mr Stowley had collapsed on the floor, with his head in his hands.

‘Can I not?' said Vetinari. ‘I am a tyrant. It's what we do.'

‘What is happening? Who am I? Where is this place?' moaned Stowley, a man who believed in laying down some groundwork as soon as possible.

‘But there's no evidence! That wizard's lying! Someone must have been bribed!' Greenyham pleaded. Not only had the ice broken up, but he was on the floe with the big hungry walrus.

‘Mr Greenyham,' said Lord Vetinari, ‘one more uninvited outburst from you and you will be imprisoned. I hope that is clear?'