Moving Pictures (Discworld 10)

There was a distant whumm . . . whumm noise, and the sound of pellets bouncing off the wall.

'Always the same direction,' the Bursar muttered.

'What direction is that, then?'

'The direction They'll be coming from! I think I'm going mad!'

'Now, now,' said the Archchancellor, patting him on the shoulder. 'You don't want to go around talking like that. That's crazy talk.'

Ginger stared, panic-stricken, out of the carriage window.

'Who are all these people?' she said.

'They're fans,' said Dibbler.

'But I'm not hot!'

'Uncle means that they're people who like seeing you in the clicks,' said Soll. 'Er. Like you a lot.'

'There's women out there too,' said Victor. He gave a cautious wave. In the crowd, a woman swooned.

'You're famous,' he said. 'You said you always wanted to be famous.'

Ginger looked out at the crowd again. 'I never thought it would be like this, though. They're all shouting our names!'

'We've put a lot of effort into telling people about Blown Away,' said Soll.

'Yes,' said Dibbler. 'We said it was the greatest click in the entire history of Holy Wood.'

'But we've been making clicks for only a couple of months,' Ginger pointed out.

'So what? That's still a history,' said Dibbler.

Victor saw the look in Ginger's face. Exactly how long was Holy Wood's real history? Perhaps there was some ancient stone calendar, down there on the sea bed, among the lobsters. Perhaps there was no way it could be measured. How did you measure the age of an idea?

'A lot of civic dignitaries are going to be there, too,' said Dibbler. 'The Patrician and the nobles and the Guild heads and some of the high priests. Not the wizards, of course, the stuck-up old idiots. But it'll be a night to remember right enough.'

'Will we have to be introduced to them all?' said Victor.

'No. They'll be introduced to you,' said Dibbler. 'It'll be the biggest thrill of their lives.'

Victor stared out at the crowds again.

'Is it my imagination,' he said, 'or is it getting foggy?'

Poons hit the Chair across the back of the legs with his stick.

'What's going on?' he said. 'Why's everyone cheering?'

'The Patrician's just got out of his carriage,' said the Chair.

'Don't see what's so wonderful about that,' said Poons. 'I've got out of carriages hundreds of times. There's no trick to it at all.'

'It's a bit odd,' the Chairman admitted. 'And they cheered the head of the Assassins' Guild and the High Priest of Blind Io, too. And now someone's rolled out a red carpet.'

'What, in the street? In Ankh-Morpork?'

'Yes.'