Terry Pratchett - Unseen Academicals

‘As hard as a face full of hobnails, perhaps?’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘People get trodden into the cobbles!’

‘If all else fails, we will find volunteers from the student body,’ said Ridcully.

‘Corpse might be a better word.’

The Archchancellor leaned back in his chair. ‘What makes a wizard, gentlemen? A facility with magic? Yes, of course, but around this table we know this is not, for the right kind of mind, hard to obtain. It does not, as it were, happen like magic. Good heavens, witches manage it. But what makes a magic user is a certain cast of mind which looks a little deeper into the world and the way it works, the way its currents twist the fortunes of mankind, et cetera, et cetera. In short, they should be the kind of person who might calculate that a guaranteed double first is worth the occasional inconvenience of sliding down the street on their teeth.’

‘Are you seriously suggesting that we give out degrees for mere physical prowess?’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.

‘No, of course not. I am seriously suggesting that we give out degrees for extreme physical prowess. May I remind you that I rowed for this university for five years and got a Brown?’

‘And what good did that do, pray?’

‘Well, it does say “Archchancellor” on my door. Do you remember why? The University Council at the time took the very decent view that it might be the moment for a leader who was not stupid, mad or dead. Admittedly, most of these are not exactly qualifications in the normal sense, but I like to think that the skill of leadership, tactics and creative cheating that I learned on the river also stood me in good stead. And thus for my sins, which I don’t actually remember committing but must have been quite crimson, I was at the top of a shortlist of one. Was that a choice of three cheeses, Mister Stibbons?’

‘Yes, Archchancellor.’

‘I was just checking.’ Ridcully leaned forward. ‘Gentlemen, in the morning, correction, later this morning, I propose to tell Vetinari firmly that this university intends to once again play football. And the task falls to me because I am the first among equals. If any of you would like to try your luck in the Oblong Office, you have only to say.’

‘He’ll suspect something, you know,’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.

‘He suspects everything. That is why he is still Patrician.’ Ridcully stood up. ‘I declare this meet—this overly extended snack… over. Mister Stibbons, come with me!’

Ponder hurried after him, books clutched to his chest, happy for the excuse to get out of there before they turned on him. The bringer of bad news is never popular, especially when it’s on an empty plate.

‘Archchancellor, I—’ he began, but Ridcully held his finger to his lips.

After a moment of cloying silence, there was a sudden festival of scuffling, as of men fighting in silence.

‘Good for them,’ Ridcully said, heading off down the corridor. ‘I wondered how long it would take them to realize that they might be seeing the last overloaded snack trolley for some time. I’m almost tempted to wait and see them waddle out with their robes sagging.’

Ponder stared at him. ‘Are you enjoying this, Archchancellor?’

‘Good heavens no,’ said Ridcully, his eyes sparkling. ‘How could you suggest such a thing? Besides, in a few hours I have to tell Havelock Vetinari that we are intending to become a personal affront. The unschooled mob hacking at one another’s legs is one thing. I don’t believe he will be happy with the prospect of our joining in.’

‘Of course, sir. Er, there is a minor matter, sir, a small conundrum, if you will… Who is Nutt?’

There seemed to Ponder to be a rather longer pause than necessary before Ridcully said, ‘Nutt would be… ?’

‘He works in the candle vats, sir.’

‘How do you know that, Stibbons?’

‘I do the wages, sir. The Candle Knave says Nutt just turned up one night with a chitty saying he was to be employed and paid minimal wage.’

‘Well?’

‘That’s all I know, sir, and I only found that out because I asked Smeems. Smeems says he’s a good lad but sort of odd.’

‘Then he should fit right in, don’t you think, Stibbons? In fact, we are seeing how he fits in.’

‘Well yes, sir, no problem there, but he’s a goblin, apparently, and generally, you know, it’s a sort of odd tradition, but when the first people from other races first come to the city they start out in the Watch… ’

Ridcully cleared his throat, loudly. ‘The trouble with the Watch, Stibbons, is that they ask too many questions. We should not emulate them, I suggest.’ He looked at Ponder and appeared to reach a decision. ‘You know that you have a glowing future here at UU, Stibbons.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Ponder gloomily.

‘I would advise you, with this in mind, to forget all about Mister Nutt.’

‘Excuse me, Archchancellor, but that simply will not do!’

Ridcully swayed backwards, like a man subjected to an attack by a hitherto comatose sheep.

Ponder plunged on, because when you have dived off a cliff your only hope is to press for the abolition of gravity.

‘I have twelve jobs in this university,’ he said. ‘I do all the paperwork. I do all the adding up. In fact, I do everything that requires even a modicum of effort and responsibility! And I go on doing it even though Brazeneck have offered me the post of Bursar! With a staff! I mean real people, not a stick with a knob on the end. Now… Will… You… Trust… Me? What is it about Nutt that is so important?’

‘The bastard tried to lure you away?’ said Ridcully. ‘How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless Dean! Is there nothing he will not stoop to? How much did—’

‘I didn’t ask,’ said Ponder quietly.

There was a moment of silence and then Ridcully patted him a couple of times on the shoulder.

‘The problem with Mister Nutt is that people want to kill him.’

‘What people?’

Ridcully stared into Ponder’s eyes. His lips moved. He squinted up and down like a man engaged in complex calculation. He shrugged.

‘Probably everybody,’ he said.

‘Please have some more of my wonderful apple pie,’ said Nutt.

‘But she gave it to you,’ said Trev, grinning. ‘I’d never ’ear the end of it if I ate your pie.’

‘But you are my friend, Mister Trev,’ said Nutt. ‘And since it is my pie I can decide what to do with it.’

‘Nah,’ said Trev, waving it away. ‘But there is a little errand you can do for me, me being a kind and understanding boss what lets you work all the hours you want.’

‘Yes, Mister Trev?’ said Nutt.

‘Glenda will come in around midday. To be honest, she hardly ever leaves the place. I would like you to go and ask her the name of that girl who was up there tonight.’

‘The one who shouted at you, Mister Trev?’

‘The very same,’ said Trev.

‘Of course I will do that,’ said Nutt. ‘But why don’t you ask Miss Glenda yourself? She knows you.’

Trev grinned again. ‘Yes, she does and that’s why I know she won’t tell me. If I am any judge, and I’m pretty sound, she would like to know you better. I’ve never met a lady so good at feelin’ sorry for people.’

‘There’s not much of me to know,’ said Nutt.

Trev gave him a long, thoughtful glance. Nutt had not taken his eyes off his work. Trev had never seen anyone who could be so easily engrossed. Other people who ended up working in the vats were a bit weird, it was almost a requirement, but the little dark-grey fellow was somehow weird in the opposite direction. ‘You know, you ought to get out more, Mister Nutts,’ he said.