Moving Pictures (Discworld 10)

It snapped. The box jerked backwards. Film went on unreeling in glittering coils which lunged at him briefly and then slithered down to the floor.

Clickaclick . . . a . . . click.

The reels spun to a halt.

Victor cautiously stirred the heap of film with his foot. He'd been half expecting it to attack him like a snake.

'Have we saved the day?' prompted Gaspode. 'I'd appreciate knowing.'

Victor looked at the screen.

'No,' he said.

There were still images there. They weren't very clear, but he could still make out the vague shapes of himself and Ginger, hanging on to existence. And the screen itself was moving. It bulged here and there, like ripples of a pool of dull mercury. It looked unpleasantly familiar.

'They've found us,' he said.

'Who have?' said Gaspode.

'You know those ghastly creatures you were talking about?'

Gaspode's brow furrowed. 'The ones from before the dawnatime?'

'Where they come from, there is no time,' said Victor. The audience was stirring.

'We must get everyone out of here,' he said. 'But without panicking-'

There was a chorus of screams. The audience was waking up.

The screen Ginger was climbing out. She was three times normal size and flickered visibly. She was also vaguely transparent, but she had weight, because the floor buckled and splintered under her feet.

The audience was climbing over itself to get away. Victor fought his way down the aisle just as Poons' wheelchair went past backwards in the flow of people, its occupant flailing desperately and shouting, 'Hey! Hey! It's just getting good!'

The Chair grabbed Victor's arm urgently.

'Is it meant to do this?' he demanded.

'No!'

'It's not some sort of special kinematographic effect, then?' said the Chair hopefully.

'Not unless they've got really good in the last twenty-four hours,' said Victor. 'I think it's the Dungeon Dimensions.'

The Chair stared intently at him.

'You are young Victor, aren't you,' he said.

'Yes. Excuse me,' said Victor. He pushed past the astonished wizard and climbed over the seats to where Ginger was still sitting, staring at her own image. The monster Ginger was looking around and blinking very slowly, like a lizard.

'That's me?'

'No!' said Victor. 'That is, yes. Maybe. Not really. Sort of. Come on.'

'But it looks just like me!' said Ginger, her voice modulated with hysteria.

'That's because they're having to use Holy Wood! It . . . it defines how they can appear, I think,' said Victor hurriedly. He tugged her out of the seat and into the air, his feet kicking up mist and scattering banged grains. She stumbled along after him, looking over her shoulder.

'There's another one trying to come out of the screen,' she said.