Terry Pratchett - Thief of Time

“I know . I'll tell you, the day someone pulls the plug out of the bottom of the universe, the chain will lead all the way to Ankh-Morpork and some bugger saying, ‘I just wanted to see what would happen.’ All roads lead to Ankh-Morpork.”

“I thought all roads led away from Ankh-Morpork.”

“Not the way we're going. Ah, here we are.”

Lu-Tze knocked on the door of a rough but large shed built right up against the wall. At the same moment there was an explosion within and someone—Lobsang corrected himself— half of someone tumbled very fast out of the unglazed window beside it and hit the path with bone-cracking force. Only when it stopped rolling did he realize that it was a wooden dummy in a monk's robe.

“Qu's having fun, I see,” said Lu-Tze. He hadn't moved as the dummy had sailed past his ear.

The door burst open and a plump old monk looked out excitedly.

“Did you see that? Did you see that?” he said. “And that was with just one spoonful!” He nodded at them. “Oh, hello, Lu-Tze. I was expecting you. I've got some things ready.”

“Got what?” said Lobsang.

“Who's the boy?” said Qu, ushering them in.

“The untutored child is called Lobsang,” said Lu-Tze, looking around the shed. There was a smoking circle on the stone floor, with drifts of blackened sand around it. “New toys, Qu?”

“Exploding mandala,” said Qu happily, bustling forward. “Just sprinkle the special sand on a simple design anywhere you like, and the first enemy to walk on it—Bang, instant karma! Don't touch that! ”

Lu-Tze reached across and snatched from Lobsang's inquisitive hands the begging bowl that he had just picked up from a table.

“Remember Rule One,” he said, and hurled the bowl across the room. Hidden blades slid out as it spun, and the bowl buried itself in a beam.

“That would take a man's head right off!” said Lobsang. And then they heard the faint ticking.

“…three, four, five…” said Qu. “Everybody duck… Now! ”

Lu-Tze pushed Lobsang to the floor a moment before the bowl exploded. Metal fragments scythed overhead.

“I added just a little something extra since you last saw it,” said Qu proudly, as they got to their feet again. “A very versatile device. Plus, of course, you can use it to eat rice out of. Oh, and have you seen this?”

He picked up a prayer drum. Both Lu-Tze and Lobsang took a step back.

Qu twirled the drum a few times, and the weighted cords pattered against the skins.

“The cord can be instantly removed for a handy garotte,” he said, “and the drum itself can be removed—like so—to reveal this useful dagger.”

“Plus, of course, you can use it to pray with?” said Lobsang.

“Well spotted,” said Qu. “Quick boy. A prayer is always useful in the last resort. In fact we've been working on a very promising mantra incorporating sonic tones that have a particular effect on the human nervous syst—”

“I don't think we need any of this stuff, Qu,” said Lu-Tze.

Qu sighed. “At least you could let us turn your broom into a secret weapon, Lu-Tze. I've shown you the plans—”

“It is a secret weapon,” said Lu-Tze. “It's a broom.”

“How about the new yaks we've been breeding? At the touch of a rein their horns will instantly—”

“We want the spinners, Qu.”

The monk suddenly looked guilty. “Spinners? What spinners?”

Lu-Tze walked across the room and pressed a hand against part of the wall, which slid aside.

“These spinners, Qu. Don't muck me about, we haven't got time.”

Lobsang saw what looked very much like two small Procrastinators, each one within a metal framework mounted on a board. There was a harness attached to each board.

“You haven't told the abbot about them yet, have you?” said Lu-Tze, unhooking one of the things. “He'd put a stop to them if you did, you know that.”

“I didn't think anyone knew!” said Qu. “How did you –”

Lu-Tze grinned. “No one notices a sweeper,” he said.

“They're still very experimental!” said Qu, close to panic. “I was going to tell the abbot, of course , but I was waiting until I had something to demonstrate! And it would be terrible if they fell into the wrong hands!”

“Then we'll see to it that they don't,” said Lu-Tze, examining the straps. “How're they powered now?”

“Weights and ratchets were too unreliable,” said Qu. “I'm afraid I had to resort to… clockwork.”

Lu-Tze stiffened, and he glared at the monk. “ Clockwork ?”

“Only as a motive force, only as a motive force!” Qu protested. “There's really no other choice!”

“Too late now, it'll have to do,” said Lu-Tze, unhooking the other board and passing it across to Lobsang. “There you go, lad. With a bit of sacking round it it'll look just like a backpack.”

“What is it?”

Qu sighed. “They're portable Procrastinators. Try not to break them, please.”

“What will we need them for?”

“I hope you won't have to find out,” said Lu-Tze. “Thanks, Qu.”

“Are you sure you wouldn't prefer some time bombs?” said Qu hopefully. “Drop one on the floor and time will slow for—”

“Thanks, but no.”

“The other monks were fully equipped,” said Qu.

“But we're travelling light,” said Lu-Tze firmly. “We'll go out the back way, Qu, okay?”

The back way led to a narrow path and a small gate in the wall. Dismembered wooden dummies and patches of scorched rock indicated that Qu and his assistants often came this way. And then there was another path, beside one of the many icy streamlet's.

“Qu means well,” said Lu-Tze, walking fast. “But if you listen to him you end up clanking when you walk and exploding when you sit down.”

Lobsang ran to keep up.

“It'll take weeks to walk to Ankh-Morpork, Sweeper!”

“We'll slice our way there,” said Lu-Tze, and he stopped and turned. “You think you can do that?”

“I've done it hundreds of times—” Lobsang began.

“Back in Oi Dong, yes,” said Lu-Tze. “But there's all kinds of checks and safeguards in the valley. Oh, didn't you know that? Slicing in Oi Dong is easy , lad. It's different out there. The air tries to get in the way. Do it wrong and the air is a rock. You have to shape the slice around you so that you move like a fish in water. Know how to do that?”

“We learned a bit of the theory, but—”

“Soto said you stopped time for yourself back in the city. The Stance of the Coyote, it's called. Very hard to do, and I don't reckon they teach it in the Thieves' Guild, eh?”

“I suppose I was lucky, Sweeper.”

“Good. Keep it up. We'll have plenty of time for you to practise before we leave the snow. Get it right before you tread on grass, or kiss your feet goodbye.”

They called it slicing time …

There is a way of playing certain musical instruments that is called “circular breathing”, devised to allow people to play the didgeridoo or the bagpipes without actually imploding or being sucked down the tube. “Slicing time” was very much the same, except time was substituted for air and it was a lot quieter. A trained monk could stretch a second further than an hour …

But that wasn't enough. He'd be moving in a rigid world. He'd have to learn to see by echo light and hear by ghost sound and let time leach into his immediate universe. It wasn't hard, once he found the confidence; the sliced world could almost seem normal, apart from the colours …

It was like walking in sunsets, although the sun was fixed high in the sky and barely moved. The world ahead shaded towards violet, and the world behind, when Lobsang looked round, was the shade of old blood. And it was lonely. But the worst of it, Lobsang realized, was the silence. There was noise, of a sort, but it was just a deep sizzle at the edge of hearing. His footsteps sounded strange and muffled, and the sound arrived in his ears out of sync with the tread of his feet.