Moving Pictures (Discworld 10)

'The fog changes everything, doesn't it?' said Soll unhappily. 'Er, do you think your little dog can find his way to the studio? He seems quite bright.'

'Growl, growl,' said Gaspode, and sat up and begged in what Victor at least recognized as a sarcastic way.

'My word,' said Soll. 'It's as if he understands, isn't it?'

Gaspode barked sharply. After a second or two there was a barrage of excited answering barks.

'Of course, that'll be Laddie,' said Soll. 'What a clever dog!'

Gaspode looked smug.

'Mind you, that's Laddie in a nutshell,' said Soll, as they set off towards the barking. 'I expect he could teach your dog a few tricks, eh?'

Victor didn't dare look down.

After a few false turns the archway of Century of the Fruitbat passed overhead like a ghost. There were more people here; the site seemed to be filling up with lost wanderers who didn't know where else to go.

There was a coach waiting outside Dibbler's office and Dibbler himself stood beside it, stamping his feet.

'Come on, come on,' he said, 'I've sent Gaffer ahead with the film. Get in, the pair of you.'

'Can we travel in this?' said Victor.

'What's to go wrong?' said Dibbler. 'There's one road to AnkhMorpork. Anyway, we'll probably be well out of this stuff when we leave the coast. I don't see why everyone's so nervy. Fog's fog.'

'That's what I say,' said Victor, climbing into the coach.

'It's just a mercy we finished Blown Away yesterday,' said Dibbler. 'All this is probably just something seasonal. Nothing to worry about at all.'

'You said that before,' said Soll. 'You said it at least five times so far this morning.'

Ginger was hunched on one seat, with Laddie lying underneath it. Victor slid along until he was next to her.

'Did you get any sleep?' he whispered.

'Just an hour or two, I think,' she said. 'Nothing happened. No dream or anything.'

Victor relaxed.

'Then it really is over,' he said. 'I wasn't sure.'

'And the fog?' she demanded.

'Sorry?' said Victor guiltily.

'What's causing the fog?'

'Well,' said Victor, 'as I understand it, when cool air passes over warm ground, water is precipitated out of-'

'You know what I mean! It's not like normal fog at all! It - sort of drifts oddly,' she finished lamely. 'And you can nearly hear voices,' she added.

'You can't nearly hear voices,' said Victor, in the hope that his own rational mind would believe him. 'You either hear them or you don't. Listen, we're both just tired. That's all it is. We've been working hard and, er, not getting much sleep, so it's understandable that we think we're nearly hearing and seeing things.'

'Oh, so you're nearly seeing things, are you?' said Ginger triumphantly. 'And don't you go around using that calm and reasonable tone of voice on me,' she added. 'I hate it when people go around being calm and reasonable at me.'

'I hope you two lovebirds aren't having a tiff?'

Victor and Ginger stiffened. Dibbler clambered up into the opposite seat, and leered encouragingly at them. Soll followed. There was a slam as the driver shut the carriage door.