Terry Pratchett: Feet of Clay

'Yes, sir. I've given that viewpoint a lot of thought, sir, and reached the following conclusion: arseholes to the lot of 'em, sir.'

The Patrician's hand covered his mouth for a moment. 'Sir Samuel, you are a harsh negotiator. Surely you can give and take?'

'Couldn't say, sir.' Vimes walked to the main doors and pushed them open.

'Fog's lifted, sir,' he said. There's a bit of cloud but you can see all the way across the Brass Bridge—'

'What will you use the golem for?'

'Not use, sir. Employ. I thought he might be useful for to keep the peace, sir.'

'A watchman?'

'Yes, sir,' said Vimes. 'Haven't you heard, sir? Golems do all the mucky jobs.'

Vetinari watched him go, and sighed. 'He does so like a dramatic exit,' he said.

'Yes, my lord,' said Drumknott, who had appeared noiselessly at his shoulder.

'Ah, Drumknott.' The Patrician took a length of candle out of his pocket and handed it to his secretary. 'Dispose of this somewhere safely, will you?'

'Yes, my lord?'

'It's the candle from the other night.'

'It's not burned down, my lord? But I saw the candle end in the holder...'

'Oh, of course I cut off enough to make a stub and let the wick burn for a moment. I couldn't let our gallant policeman know I'd worked it out for myself, could I? Not when he was making such an effort and having so much fun being... well, being Vimes. I'm not completely heartless, you know.'

'But, my lord, you could have sorted it out diplomatically! Instead he went around upsetting things and making a lot of people very angry and afraid—'

'Yes. Dear me. Tsk, tsk.'

'Ah,' said Drumknott.

'Quite so,' said the Patrician.

'Do you wish me to have the table in the Rats Chamber repaired?'

'No, Drumknott, leave the axe where it is. It will make a good... conversation piece, I think.'

'May I make an observation, my lord?'

'Of course you may,' said Vetinari, watching Vimes walk through the palace gates.

'The thought occurs, sir, that if Commander Vimes did not exist you would have had to invent him.'

'You know, Drumknott, I rather think I did.'

'Atheism Is Also A Religious Position,' Dorfl rumbled.

'No it's not!' said Constable Visit. 'Atheism is a denial of a god.'

'Therefore It Is A Religious Position,' said Dorfl. 'Indeed, A True Atheist Thinks Of The Gods Constantly, Albeit In Terms of Denial. Therefore, Atheism Is A Form Of Belief. If The Atheist Truly Did Not Believe, He Or She Would Not Bother To Deny.'

'Did you read those pamphlets I gave you?' said Visit suspiciously.

'Yes. Many Of Them Did Not Make Sense. But I Should Like To Read Some More.'

'Really?' said Visit. His eyes gleamed. 'You really want more pamphlets?'

'Yes. There Is Much In Them That I Would Like To Discuss. If You Know Some Priests, I Would Enjoy Disputation.'

'All right, all right,' said Sergeant Colon. 'So are you going to take the sodding oath or not, Dorfl?'

Dorfl held up a hand the size of a shovel. 'I, Dorfl, Pending The Discovery Of A Deity Whose Existence Withstands Rational Debate, Swear By The Temporary Precepts of A Self-Derived Moral System—'

'You really want more pamphlets?' said Constable Visit.

Sergeant Colon rolled his eyes.

'Yes,' said Dorfl.

'Oh, my god!' said Constable Visit, and burst into tears. 'No one's ever asked for more pamphlets before!'

Colon turned when he realized Vimes was watching. 'It's no good, sir,' he said. 'I've been trying to swear him in for half an hour, sir, and we keep ending up arguing about oaths and things.'

'You willing to be a Watchman, Dorfl?' said Vimes.

'Yes.'

'Right. That's as good as a swear to me. Give him his badge, Fred. And this is for you, Dorfl. It's a chit to say you're officially alive, just in case you run into any trouble. You know... with people.'

Thank You,' said Dorfl solemnly. 'If Ever I Feel I Am Not Alive, I Will Take This Out And Read It.'

'What are your duties?' said Vimes.

'To Serve The Public Trust, Protect The Innocent, And Seriously Prod Buttock, Sir,' said Dorfl.

'He learns fast, doesn't he?' said Colon. 'I didn't even tell him the last one.'

'People won't like it,' said Nobby. S not going to be popular, a golem as a watchman.'

'What Better Work For One Who Loves Freedom Than The Job of Watchman. Law Is The Servant of Freedom. Freedom Without Limits Is Just A Word,' said Dorfl ponderously.

'Y'know,' said Colon, 'if it doesn't work out, you could always get ajob making fortune cookies.'

'Funny thing, that,' said Nobby. 'You never get bad fortunes in cookies, ever noticed that? They never say stuff like: Oh dear, things're going to be really bad. I mean, they're never misfortune cookies.'

Vimes lit a cigar and shook the match to put it out. 'That, Corporal, is because of one of the fundamental driving forces of the universe.'

'What? Like, people who read fortune cookies are the lucky ones?' said Nobby.

'No. Because people who sell fortune cookies want to go on selling them. Come on, Constable Dorfl. We're going for a walk.'

'There's a lot of paperwork, sir,' said Sergeant Colon.

'Tell Captain Carrot I said he should look at it,' said Vimes, from the doorway.

'He hasn't been in yet, sir.'

'It'll keep.'

'Right, sir.'

Colon went and sat behind his desk. It was a good place to be, he'd decided. There was absolutely no chance of finding any Nature there. He'd had a rare conversation with Mrs Colon this morning and made it clear that he was no longer interested in getting close to the soil because he'd been as close to the soil as it was possible to get and the soil, it turned out, was just dirt. A good thick layer of cobblestones was, he decided, about as close as he wanted to get to Nature. Also, Nature tended to be squishy.

'I've got to go on duty,' said Nobby. 'Captain Carrot wants me to do crime prevention in Peach Pie Street.'

'How d'you do that, then?' said Colon.

'Keep away, he said.'

Ere, Nobby, woss this about you not being a lord after all?' said Colon cautiously.

'I think I got the sack,' said Nobby. 'Bit of a relief, really. That nobby grub isn't much, and the drink is frankly piss.'

'Lucky escape for you, then,' said Colon. 'I mean, you won't have to go giving your clothes away to gardeners and so on.'

'Yeah. Wish I'd never told them about the damn ring, really.'

'Would've saved you a lot of trouble, certainly,' said Colon.

Nobby spat on his badge and buffed it industriously with his sleeve. 'S a good job I never told them about the tiara, the coronet and the three gold lockets, he said to himself.

'Where Are We Going?' said Dorfl, as Vimes strolled across the Brass Bridge.

'I thought I might break you in gently with some guard duty at the palace,' said Vimes.

'Ah. This Is Where My New Friend Constable Visit Is Also On Guard,' said Dorfl.

'Splendid!'

'I Wish To Ask You A Question,' said the golem.

'Yes?'

'I Smashed The Treadmill But The Golems Repaired It. Why? And I Let The Animals Go But They Just Milled Around Stupidly. Some of Them Even Went Back To The Slaughter Pens. Why?'

'Welcome to the world, Constable Dorfl.'

'Is It Frightening To Be Free?'

'You said it.'

'You Say To People Throw Off Your Chains And They Make New Chains For Themselves?'

'Seems to be a major human activity, yes.'

Dorfl rumbled as he thought about this. 'Yes,' he said eventually. 'I Can See Why. Freedom Is Like Having The Top Of Your Head Opened Up.'

'I'll have to take your word for that, Constable.'

'And You Will Pay Me Twice As Much As Other Watchmen/ said Dorfl.

'Will I?'

'Yes. I Do Not Sleep. I Can Work Constantly. I Am A Bargain. I Do Not Need Days Off To Bury My Granny.'