Terry Pratchett - The Last Hero

Leonard opened his mouth to say: No, this was expected, because everything is falling at the same speed, but he didn't, because he could see this was not a happy thing to say.

‘It's the sort of thing that happens,’ he said. ‘It's… er… magic.’

‘Oh. Really? Oh.’

A cup bumped gently off Carrot's ear. He batted it away and it disappeared somewhere aft.

‘What kind of magic?’ he said.

The wizards were clustered around the piece of omniscope, while Ponder struggled to adjust it.

A picture exploded into view. It was horrible.

‘Hello? Hello? This is Ankh-Morpork calling!’

The gibbering face was pushed aside and Leonard's dome rose slowly into view.

‘Ah, yes. Good morning,’ he said. ‘We are having a few… teething troubles.’

From somewhere offscreen came the sound of someone being sick.

‘ Whatisgoingon ?’ bellowed Ridcully.

‘Well, you see, it's rather amusing… I had this idea of putting food in tubes, you see, so that it could be squeezed out and eaten neatly in weightless conditions and, er, because we didn't tie everything down, er, I'm afraid my box of paints came open and the tubes got, er, confused, so what Mr Rincewind thought was broccoli and ham turned out to be Forest Green… er.’

‘Let me speak to Captain Carrot, will you?’

‘I'm afraid that is not entirely convenient at the moment,’ said Leonard, his face clouded with concern.

‘Why? Did he have the broccoli and ham too?’

‘No, he had the Cadmium Yellow.’ There was a yelp and a series of clangs somewhere behind Leonard. ‘On the brighter side, however, I can report that the Mk II privy appears to function perfectly .’

The Kite , in its headlong plunge, curved back towards the Rimfall. Now the water was a great tumbling cloud of mist.

Captain Carrot hovered in front of a window, taking pictures with the iconograph.

‘This is amazing ,’ he said. ‘I'm sure we'll find the answers to some questions that have puzzled mankind for millennia.’

‘Good. Can you get this frying pan off my back?’ said Rincewind.

‘Um,’ said Leonard.

It was a sufficiently troubling syllable for the others to look at him.

‘We seem to be, er, losing air rather faster than I thought,’ said the genius. ‘But I'm sure the hull isn't any leakier than I allowed for. And we seem to be falling faster, according to Mr Stibbons. Uh… it's a little difficult to piece it all together, of course, because of the uncertain effects of the Disc's magical field. Um… we should be all right if we wear our helmets all the time…’

‘There's plenty of air nearer to the world, isn't there?’ said Rincewind. ‘Can't we just fly into it and open a window?’

Leonard stared mournfully into the mists that filled half of their view.

‘We are, er, moving very fast,’ he said, slowly. ‘And air at this speed… air is… the thing about air… tell me, what do you understand by the words “shooting star”?’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Rincewind demanded.

‘Um… that we die an immensely horrible death.’

‘Oh, that ,’ said Rincewind.

Leonard tapped a dial on one of the tanks of air. ‘I really don't think my calculations were that wro—’

Light exploded into the cabin.

The Kite rose through tendrils of mist.

The crew stared.

‘No one will ever believe us,’ said Carrot, eventually. He raised his iconograph towards the view and even the imp inside, which belonged to a species that was seldom impressed with anything, said ‘Gosh!’ in a tiny voice as it painted furiously.

‘I don't believe this,’ said Rincewind, ‘and I'm seeing it.’

A tower, an immensity of rock, rose from the mist. And looming over the mist, huge as worlds, the backs of four elephants. It was like flying through a cathedral, thousands of miles high.

‘It sounds like a joke,’ Rincewind babbled, ‘elephants holding up the world, hahaha… and then you see it…’

‘My paints, where are my paints …?’ mumbled Leonard.

‘Well, some of them are in the privy,’ said Rincewind.

Carrot turned, and looked puzzled. The iconograph floated away, trailing small curses.

‘And where's my apple?’ he said.

‘What?’ said Rincewind, perplexed at the sudden subject of fruit.

‘I'd just started eating an apple, and I just rested it in the air… and it's gone .’

The ship creaked in the glaring sunlight.

And an apple core came tumbling gently through the air.

‘I suppose there are just the three of us aboard?’ said Rincewind innocently.

‘Don't be silly,’ said Carrot. ‘We're sealed in!’

‘So… your apple ate itself?’

They looked at the jumble of bundles held in the webbing behind them.

‘I mean, call me Mr Suspicious,’ said Rincewind, ‘but if the ship is heavier than Leonard thought, and we're using up more air, and food is vanishing—’

‘You're not suggesting that there's some kind of monster floating around below the Rim that can bore into wooden hulls, are you?’ said Carrot, drawing his sword.

‘Ah, I hadn't thought of that one,’ said Rincewind. ‘Well done.’

‘Interesting,’ said Leonard. ‘It would be, perhaps, a cross between a bird and a bivalve. Somewhat squid-like, possibly, using jets of—’

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you, yes!’

Carrot pulled out a roll of blankets and tried to look back along the cabin.

‘I think I saw something move,’ he said. ‘Just behind the air reservoirs…’

He ducked under a bundle of skis and disappeared into the shadows.

They heard him groan.

‘Oh, no…’

‘What? What?’ said Rincewind. Carrot's voice was muffled.

‘I've found a… it looks like a… skin…’

‘Ah, fascinating,’ said Leonard, sketching on his notepad. ‘Possibly, once aboard a hospitable vessel, such a creature would metamorphose into—’

Carrot emerged, a banana skin kebabed on the end of his sword.

Rincewind rolled his eyes. ‘I have a very definite feeling about this,’ he said.

‘So have I,’ said Carrot.

It took them some time, but finally they pushed away a box of dishcloths and there were no more hiding places.

A worried face looked out of the nest it had made.

‘Ook?’ it said.

Leonard sighed, laid aside his pad and opened up the omniscope's box. He banged on it once or twice, and it flickered and showed the outline of a head.

Leonard took a deep breath.

‘Ankh-Morpork, we have an orangutan…’

Cohen sheathed his sword.

‘Wouldn't have expected much to be living up here,’ he said, surveying the carnage.

‘There's even less now,’ said Caleb.

The latest fight had been over in the twinkling of an eye and the cleaving of a backbone. Any… creatures that ambushed the Horde did so at the end of their lives.

‘The raw magic here must be huge,’ said Boy Willie. ‘I suppose creatures like this get used to living off it. Sooner or later something will learn to live anywhere .’

‘It's certainly doing Mad Hamish good,’ said Cohen. ‘I'll swear he's not as deaf as he was.’

‘Whut?’

‘I SAID YOU'RE NOT AS DEAF AS YOU WERE, HAMISH!’

‘There's no need to shout, mon!’

‘Can we cook 'em, do you think?’ said Boy Willie.

‘They'll probably taste a bit like chicken,’ said Caleb. ‘Everything does, if you're hungry enough.’

‘Leave it to me,’ said Mrs McGarry. ‘You get a fire going, and I'll make this taste more like chicken than… chicken.’