Terry Pratchett - Unseen Academicals

‘Commander Vimes has said the Watch will provide an escort,’ said Ponder. ‘Just for protection, you know?’

‘Whose?’ said Glenda. ‘You can see what’s going on here. People will see Mister Nutt as the problem.’

‘Oh, it’s all fun and games until someone loses a head,’ said a voice behind Glenda. She recognized that voice and it always sounded as if it was trying to put its hand up her jumper.

‘Pepe? What the hell are you doing here?’

‘And how did you get in?’ Ponder demanded. ‘The Watch are all around this place.’

Pepe barely gave him a glance. ‘And who are you, smart boy?’

‘I run this university!’

‘Then I should go away and run it, because you’re not going to be any good around here.’

‘Is this–person–known to you, miss?’ Ponder demanded.

‘Er, yes. He, er, designs clothes.’

‘I am a fashionista,’ said Pepe. ‘I can do things with clothing that you wouldn’t think were possible.’

‘I’d believe that, at least,’ said Trev.

‘And I know a thing or two about riots and mobs.’

An idea struck Glenda and she whispered to the irate Ponder, ‘Very big in dwarf circles, sir. Knows a lot of influential people.’

‘So do I,’ said Ponder. ‘Actually, I am one,’ he wailed. ‘But I had to do the training myself yesterday and I couldn’t remember all of the things Mister Nutt comes up with so I had them running on the spot, which I don’t think is very helpful.’

‘There’s somethin’ goin’ bad,’ said Trev. ‘I know about this city. I’ll go and check a few things out. It’s not as if you really need me.’

‘I do,’ said Juliet.

Trev hesitated, but Nutt had shown him how to do this. He extended a hand and blew her a kiss as he went through the door.

‘Did you see that?’ said Juliet. ‘He blew me.’

Glenda looked at Pepe, whose eyes were turned up so far in his head that she could see the whites–although they were red.

A short while later, when most of the UU squad headed for the Hippo with Glenda and Juliet trailing after them like camp followers, half a dozen watchmen appeared from the various places that they had selected for a quiet smoke and fell in after them, trying to make it look as if they all just happened to be strolling in the same direction.

Trev was right, Glenda thought. It is going bad.

Trev had not gone very far when his street sense told him he was being followed. He jinked in and out of a few alleys and waited at the next corner to confront the follower… The follower who wasn’t there. The alley behind him was empty all the way to the last street. He realized this at the same time as someone pressed what definitely felt like a knife to his neck.

‘Cor, this takes me back and so it does,’ said a voice. ‘I reckon I can still remember every back alley in this place.’

‘I know you, it’s Pepe, isn’t it? You’re a dwarf?’ said Trev, trying not to turn round.

‘Sort of a dwarf,’ said Pepe.

‘But I don’t have no argument with you, do I?’ said Trev.

Something small and shiny appeared on the edge of Trev’s vision. ‘Sample piece of moonsilver,’ said Pepe’s voice. ‘I could do more damage with a broken champagne bottle–and I have, believe you me. I wouldn’t threaten a bloke like you with a knife, not with that little girl doting on you like she is. She seems very happy with you and I’d like to keep her happy.’

‘Somethin’s goin’ down on the street,’ said Trev.

‘What, the whole street? Sounds like fun.’

‘Somethin’s gone wrong, ’asn’t it?’ said Trev.

Only now did Pepe enter his field of view. ‘Not really my problem at all,’ he said. ‘But there’re some kinds of people I just don’t like. I’ve seen too many of ’em, bullies and bastards. If you want to learn athletics very quickly, be born around here with a talent for design and maybe a few other little preferences. Lord Vetinari has got it all wrong. He thought he could take on the football and it’s not working. It’s not like the Thieves’ Guild, see. He had it easy with the Thieves’ Guild. That’s because the Thieves’ Guild is organized. Football ain’t organized. Just because he’s won over the captains don’t mean that everyone’s going to meekly get into line after them. There was fights all over the place last night. Your chums with their shiny new football and their shiny new jerseys are going to get creamed tomorrow. No, worse than creamed–cheesed.’

‘I thought you were just someone who made clothes?’ said Trev.

‘Just. Someone. Who. Made. Clothes. Just someone?! I am not anyone. I am Pepe and I don’t make clothes. I create gorgeous works of art that just happen to require a body to show them off as they should be seen. Tailors and dressmakers make clothes. I forge history! Have you heard about micromail?’

‘Got yer. Yep,’ said Trev.

‘Good,’ said Pepe. ‘Now, what have you heard about micromail?’

‘Well, it doesn’t chafe.’

‘It’s got one or two other little secrets, too… ’ said Pepe. ‘Anyway, I can’t say I’ve got any time for the wizards, myself. Snooty lot. But it’s not going to be a game out there tomorrow, it’s going to be a war. Do you know a bloke called Andy? Andy Shank?’

Trev’s heart sank. ‘What’s he gotta do with it?’

‘I just heard the name, but I reckon I know the type. Lord Vetinari has done what he wanted. He’s broken the football, but that’s leaving a lot of sharp bits, if you get my meaning.’

‘The Watch’ll be there tomorrow,’ said Trev.

‘What’s this? What’s this? A street face like you being glad that the Watch is going to be anywhere?’

‘There’ll be a lot of people watching.’

‘Yeah, won’t that be fun?’ said Pepe. ‘And, you know, there’s people in this city that would watch a beheading and hold their kiddies up for a better view. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’m not going to give you an edge, the last thing you’ll want to see tomorrow is an edge. I’ll give you something that’s much better than an edge. After all, you’re Dave Likely’s lad.’

‘I’m not playing,’ said Trev. ‘I promised my ol’ mum.’

‘You promised your old mum?’ said Pepe. There wasn’t even any attempt to hide the disdain. ‘And you think that makes any difference, do you? You’ve got a star in your hand, lad. You’ll play, all right, so I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You come along and see me round the back entrance of Shatta, sorry about that, it sounds better in Dwarfish, and kick on the door round about midnight. You can bring a chum with you if you like, but you better bloody well come.’

‘Why do I ’ave to kick the door?’ said Trev.

‘Because you’ll have a bottle of best brandy in each hand. Don’t thank me. I’m not doing it for you. I’m protecting my investment and, on the way, that means protecting yours as well. Off you go, boy. You’re late for training. And me? I’m a soddin’ genius!’

Trev noticed more watchmen around as he headed onwards. They could be absolute bastards if they felt like it, but Sam Vimes had no use for coppers that couldn’t read the streets. The Watch was jumpy.

Carter used to live in his mum’s cellar until she rented it out to a family of dwarfs, and now he lived in the attic, which baked in the summer and froze in the winter. Carter survived because the walls were insulated with copies of Bows & Ammo, Back Street Pins, Stanley Howler’s Stamp Monthly, Giggles, Girls and Garters, Golem Spotter Weekly, and Fretwork Today. These were only the top layer. In self-defence against the elements, he glued old copies over the larger cracks and holes in the roof. As far as Trev knew, Carter had never persevered beyond a week with any of the hobbies indicated by his rather embarrassing library except, possibly, the one notoriously associated with the centrefolds of Giggles, Girls and Garters.