Eric (Discworld 9)

Right here and now, insofar as the words can be employed about an outside of space and time, matters were not progressing well. Eric seemed marginally more likeable, which wasn't acceptable. He also appeared to have changed the course of history, although this is impossible since the only thing you can do to the course of history is facilitate it.

What was needed was something climactic. Something really soul-destroying.

The Demon King realised he was twirling his moustaches.

The trouble with snapping your fingers is that you never knew what it would lead to...

Everything around Rincewind was black. It wasn't simply an absence of colour. It was a

darkness that flatly denied any possibility that colour might ever have existed. His feet weren't touching anything, and he appeared to be floating. There was something else missing. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

“Are you there, Eric?” he ventured. A clear voice nearby said: “Yes. Are you there, demon?” “Ye-ess.” “Where are we? Are we falling?” “I don't think so,” said Rincewind, speaking from experience. "There's no rushing wind.

You get a rushing wind when you're falling. Also your past life flashes before your eyes, and I haven't seen anything I recognise yet.“ ”Rincewind?“ ”Yes?"

“When I open my mouth no sounds come out.” “Don't be - ” Rincewind hesitated. He wasn't making any sound either. He knew what he was saying, it just wasn't reaching the outside world. But he could hear Eric. Perhaps the words just gave up on his ears and went straight to his brains.

“It's probably some kind of magic, or something,” he said. “There's no air. That's why there no sound. All the little bits of air sort of knock together, like marbles. That's how you get sound, you know.”

“Is it? Gosh.” “So we're surrounded by absolutely nothing,” said Rincewind. “Total nothing.” He

hesitated. “There's a word for it,” he said. “It's what you get when there's nothing left and everything's been used up.” “Yes. I think it's called the bill,” said Eric.

Rincewind gave this some thought. It sounded about right. “Okay,” he said. “The bill. That's where we are. Floating in absolute bill. Total, complete, rock-hard bill.”

Astfgl was going frantic now. He had spells that could find anyone anywhere, anywhen, and they weren't anywhere. One minute he was watching them on the beach, the next... nothing.

That left only two other places.

Fortunately he chose the wrong one first.

“Even some stars would be nice,” said Eric. “There's something very odd about all this,” said Rincewind. “I mean, do you feel cold?” “No.” “Well do you feel warm?” “No. I don't feel anything much, really.” “No hot, no cold, no light, no heat, no air,” said Rincewind. "Just bill. How long have we

been here?“ ”Don't know. Seems like ages, but...“ ”Aha. I'm not sure there's any time, either. Not what you'd call proper time. Just the kind

of time people make up as they go along.“ ”Well, I didn't expect to see anybody else here," said a voice by Rincewind's ear. It was a slightly put-upon voice, a voice made for complaining in, but at least there was

no hint of menace. Rincewind let himself float around. A little rat-faced man was sitting cross-legged, watching him with vague suspicion. He had a pencil behind one ear.

“Ah. Hallo,” said Rincewind. “And where is here, exactly?”

“Nowhere. S'whole point, innit?”

“Nowhere at all?” “Not yet.” “All right,” said Eric. “When is it going to be somewhere?” “Hard to say,” said the little man. "Looking at the pair of you, and taking one thing with

another, metabolic rates and that, I'd say that this place is due to become somewhere in, well, give or take a bit, in about five hundred seconds. “He began to unwrap the pack in his lap. ”Fancy a sandwich while we're waiting?"

“What? Would I - ” At this point Rincewind's stomach, aware that if his brain was allowed to make the running it was in danger of losing the initiative, cut in and prompted him to say, “What sort?”

“Search me. What sort would you like it to be?” “Sorry?” “Don't mess about. Just say what sort you'd like it to be.” “Oh?” Rincewind stared at him. “Well, if you've got egg and cress -” “Let there be egg and cress, sort of thing,” said the little man. He reached into the

package, and proffered a white triangle to Rincewind. “Gosh,” said Rincewind. “What a coincidence.” “It should be starting any minute now,” said the little man. "Over - not that they've got

any proper directions sorted out yet, of course, not them - there.“ ”All I can see is darkness,“ said Eric. ”No you can't,“ said the little man, triumphantly. ”You're just seeing what there is before

the darkness has been installed, sort of thing.“ He gave the not-yet-darkness a dirty look. ”Come on,“ he said. ”Why are we waiting, why-eye are we waiting?"

“Waiting for what?” said Rincewind. “Everything.” “Everything what?” said Rincewind. “Everything. Not everything what. Everything, sort of thing.”