'Oh? Really? On your side of the island, is it? I don't think so!'
'It floated up!'
'How do you know we didn't have some driftwood on our side of the island? Anyway, we've still got a barrel of fresh water, camel breath!'
'All right! We'll share! You can have half the raft!'
'Aha! Aha! Want to negotiate, eh, now we've got you over a barrel?'
'Can we just say yes, Dad? I'm fed up with treading water!'
'And you'll have to do your share of the paddling.'
'Of course.' The birds glided and turned, white scribbles against the dear blue sky. 'To Ankh–Morpork!'
'To Klatch!' Down below, as the sunken mountain of Leshp settled further onto the sea bed, the Curious Squid jetted back along its curious streets. They had no idea why, at enormous intervals, their city disappeared up into the sky, but it never went away for very long. It was just one of those things. Things happened, or sometimes they didn't The Curious Squid just assumed that it all worked out, sooner or later. A shark swam by. If anyone had risked placing an car to its side, they would have heard: 'Bingeleybingeley beep! Three pee em... Eat, Hunger, Swim. Things To Do Today: Swim, Hunger, Eat. Three oh five pee em: Feeding Frenzy...' It wasn't the most interesting of schedules, but it was very easy to organize. Unusually, Sergeant Colon had put himself on the patrol roster. It was good to get out in the cool air. And also, for some reason, the news had got around that the Watch were somehow bound up with what seemed, in some indefinable way, to have been a victory, which meant that a Watch uniform was probably good for the odd free pint at the back door of the occasional pub. He patrolled with Corporal Nobbs. They walked with the confident tread of men who had been places and seen things. With a true copper's instinct, the tread took them past Mundane Meals. Mr Goriff was cleaning the windows. He stopped when he saw them and darted inside. 'Call that gratitude?' sniffed Colon. The man reappeared carrying two large packages. 'My wife made this specially for you,' he said. He added, 'She said she knew you'd be along.' Colon pulled aside the waxed paper. 'My word,' he said. 'Special Ankh–Morpork curry,' said Mr Goriff. 'Containing yellow curry powder, big lumps of swede, green peas and soggy sultanas the–'
'–size of eggs!' said Nobby. 'Thank you very much,' said Colon. 'How's your lad, then, Mr Goriff?'
'He says you have set him an example and now he will be a watchman when he grows up.'
'Ah, right,' said Colon happily. 'That'll please Mr Vimes. You just tell him–'
war is officially over, is it?' said Carrot. 'The war, captain, never happened. It was a... misunderstanding.'
'Never happened?' said Vimes. 'People got killed!'
'Quite so,' said Lord Vetinari. 'And this suggests, does it not, that we should try to understand one another as much as possible?'
'What about the Prince?'
'Oh, I am sure we can do business with him, Vimes.'
'I don't think so!'
'Prince Khufurah? I thought you rather liked the man.'
'What? What happened to the other one?'
'He appears to have gone on a long visit to the country,' said the Patrician. 'At some speed.'
'You mean the kind of visit where you don't even stop to pack?'
'That kind of visit, yes. He seems to have upset people.'
'Do we know which country?' said Vimes. 'Klatchistan, I believe – I'm sorry, did I say something funny?'
'Oh, no. No. Just a thought crossed my mind, that's all.' Vetinari leaned back. 'And so once again peace spreads her tranquil blanket.'
'I shouldn't think the Klatchians are very happy, though.'
'It is in the nature of people to turn on their leaders when they fail to be lucky,' Vetinari added, his expression not changing. 'Oh, there will no doubt be problems. We will just have to... discuss them. Prince Khufurah is an amiable man. Very much like most of his ancestors. A flask of wine, a loaf of bread and thou, or at least a selection of thous, and he'd not be too interested in politics.'
'They're as clever as us,' said Vimes. 'We just have to stay ahead of them, then,' said Vetinari. 'A brain race, sort of,' said Vimes. 'Better than an arms race. Cheaper, too,' said the Patrician. He flicked through the papers in front of him. 'Now then, what was – oh, yes. The matter of traffic?'
'Traffic?' Vimes's brain tried to do a u–turn. 'Yes. Our ancient streets are becoming very congested these days. I hear there is a carter in Kings' Way who settled down and raised a family while in the queue. And the responsibility for keeping the streets clear is, in fact, one of the most ancient ones incumbent on the Watch.'
'Maybe, sir, but these days–'