Thud! (Discworld 34)

"Wishy-washy?" he said.

"Indeed. I invite you, therefore, to derive from that statement something of the nature of those I serve below."

Ah, thought Vimes. There"s something there. Just a hint. Friend Ardent is a thinker.

"When you say "he has seen the light" you sound as if you mean corrupted," he said.

"Something like that, yes. Different worlds, commander. Down here, it would be unwise to trust your metaphors. To see the light is to be blinded. Do you not know that in darkness the eyes open wider?"

"Take me to see these people down below," said Vimes.

"They will not listen to you. They will not even look at you. They have nothing to do with the World Above. They believe it is a kind of bad dream. I have not dared tell them about your "newspapers" printed every day and discarded like rubbish. The shock would kill them."

But dwarfs invented the printing engine, Vimes thought. Obviously they were the wrong kind of dwarf. I"ve seen Cheery throw stuff in the wastepaper bin, too. It seems like nearly all dwarfs are the wrong sort, eh?

"What exactly is your job, Mr Ardent?" said Vimes.

"I am their chief liaison with the World Above. The steward, you could say."

"I thought that was Helmclever"s job?"

"Helmclever? He orders the groceries, relays my orders, pays the miners and so on. The chores, in fact," said Ardent disdainfully. "He is a novice and his job is to do what I tell him. It is I who speak for the grags."

"You talk to bad dreams on their behalf?

"You could put it that way, I suppose. They would not let a proud word-killer become a smelter. The idea would be abominable." They glared at one another.

Once again, we end up in Koom Valley, Vimes told himself. "They won"t-"

"Permission to make a suggestion?" said Angua quietly.

Two heads turned. Two mouths said: "Well?"

"The ... smelter. The seeker of the truth. Must they be a dwarf?" "Of course!" said Ardent.

"Then what about Captain Carrot? He"s a dwarf."

"We know of him. He is an ... anomaly," said Ardent. "His claim to dwarfishness is debatable."

"But most dwarfs in the city accept that he"s a dwarf," said Angua. "And he"s a copper, too."

Ardent flopped back into his seat. "To your dwarfs here, yes, he is a dwarf. He would be unacceptable to the grags."

"There"s no dwarf law that says a dwarf can"t be more than six feet tall, sir."

"The grags are the law, woman," Ardent snapped. "They interpret laws that go back for tens of thousands of years." ;Could be said to be a bit provocative, sir-" Carrot began doubtfully.

"Detritus is an Ankh-Morpork copper, captain, just like you and me," said Vimes. "I suppose I"m acceptable, am I?

"Yes, sir, of course. I think you worry them, though."

"I do? Oh: Vimes hesitated. "Well, that"s good. And Detritus is an officer of the law. We"ve still got some law here. And as far as I"m concerned, it goes deep. All the way down."

Bloody stupid thing to say, Vimes thought five minutes later as he walked through the streets at the head of the little squad. He cursed himself for saying it.

Coppers stayed alive by trickery. That"s how it worked. You had your Watch Houses with the big blue lights outside, and you made certain there were always burly watchmen visible in the big public places, and you swanked around like you owned the place. But you didn"t own it. It was all smoke and mirrors. You magicked a little policeman into everyone"s head. You relied on people giving in, knowing the rules. But in truth a hundred well-armed people could wipe out the Watch, if they knew what they were doing. Once some madman finds out that a copper taken unawares dies just like anyone else, the spell is broken.

Hamcrusher"s dwarfs don"t believe in the City Watch? That could turn out to be a problem. Maybe bringing a troll along was provocative, but Detritus was a citizen, gods damn it, just like everyone else. If you-