'Oh, you'll find it.'
'And when I get to where I'm going, what am I supposed to do?'
'It'll . . . be obvious, right?'
'And how will I know I've done it?'
'The Wet will come back.'
'The wet what?'
'It'll rain.'
'I thought it never rained here,' said Rincewind. 'See? I knew you were smart.' The sun was setting. The rocks around the edge of the cave glowed red. Rincewind stared at them for a while, and reached a brave decision. 'I'm not the man to shirk when the fate of whole countries is in the balance,' he said. 'I will make a start at dawn to complete this task which I have already completed, by hoki, or my name isn't Rincewand!'
'Rincewind,' said the kangaroo. 'Indeed!'
'Well said, mate. Then I should get some sleep, if I were you. Could be a busy day tomorrow.'
'I've not been found wanting when duty calls,' said Rincewind. He reached into a hollow log and, after some rummaging around, pulled out a plate of egg and chips. 'See you at dawn, then.' Ten minutes later he stretched out on the sand with the log as his pillow, and looked up at the purple sky. Already a few stars were coming out. Now, there was something . . . Oh, yes. The kangaroo was lying down on the other side of the waterhole. Rincewind raised his head. 'You said something about when “he” created this place, and you talked about “him” . . .'
'Yep.'
'Only . . . I'm pretty sure I've met the Creator. Short bloke. Does all his own snowflakes.'
'Yeah? And when did you meet him?'
'When he was making the world, as a matter of fact.' Rincewind decided to refrain from mentioning that he'd dropped a sandwich into a rockpool at the time. People don't like to hear that they may have evolved from somebody's lunch. 'I get around quite a lot,' he added. 'Are you coming the raw prawn?'
'What? Oh, no. Certainly not. Coming a raw prawn? Not me. That's something I never do. Or even cooked prawns. Or crustaceans of any sort, especially in rockpools. Not me. Er . . . what was it that you actually meant?'
'Well, he didn't create this place,' said Scrappy, ignoring him. 'This was done after.'
'Can that happen?'
'Why not?'
'Well, it's not like, you know, building on over the stables, is it?' said Rincewind. 'Someone just wanders along when a world's all finished and slings down an extra continent?'
'Happens all the time, mate,' said Scrappy. 'Bloody hell, yeah. Why not, anyway? If other creators go around leaving ruddy great empty oceans, someone's bound to fill 'em up, right? Does a world good, too, having a fresh look, new ideas, new ways.' Rincewind stared up at the stars. He had a mental vision of someone walking from world to world, sneaking in extra lands when no one was looking. 'Yes indeed,' he said. 'I for one would not have thought of making all the snakes deadly, and all the spiders deadlier than the snakes. And putting pockets on everything? Great idea.'
'There you go, then,' said Scrappy. He was hardly visible now, as the dark filled up the cave. 'Made a lot of them, has he?'
'Yep.'
'Why?'
'So's maybe at least one of them won't get mucked up. Always puts kangaroos on 'em, too. Sort of a signature, you might say.'
'Does this Creator have a name?'
'Nope. He's just the man who carries the sack that contains the whole universe.'
'A leather sack?'
'Sounds like him,' the kangaroo agreed. The whole universe in one small sack?'
'Yep.' Rincewind settled back. 'I'm glad I'm not religious,' he said. 'It must be very complicated.' After another five minutes he began to snore. After half an hour he moved his head slightly. The kangaroo didn't seem to be around.