Thief of Time (Discworld 26)

'Oh, I didn't say I'm not good at what I do,' said Lu-Tz:e, ambling away with his broom over his shoulder. 'Just not holy. Shall we go?'

'Er ... Lu-Tze?' said the novice, as they walked along the ancient brick path. 'Yes?'

'Why is this called the Garden of Five Surprises?'

'What was your name back in the world, hasty young man?' said Lu-Tze. 'Newgate. Newgate Ludd, ven-' Lu-Tze held up a warning finger. 'Ah?'

'Sweeper, I mean.'

'Ludd, eh? Ankh-Morpork lad?'

'Yes, Sweeper,' said the boy. The suddenly dejected tones suggested he knew what was coming next. 'Raised by the Thieves' Guild? One of “Ludd's Lads”?' The boy formerly known as Newgate looked the old man in the eye and, when he replied, it was in the singsong voice of someone who'd answered the question too many times. 'Yes, Sweeper. Yes, I was a foundling. Yes, we get called Ludd's Lads and Lasses after one of the founders of the Guild. Yes, that's my adopted surname. Yes, it was a good life and sometimes I wish I still had it.' Lu-Tze appeared not to hear this. 'Who sent you here?'

'A monk called Soto discovered me. He said I had talent.'

'Marco? The one with all the hair?'

'That's right. Only I thought the rule was that all monks were shaved.'

'Oh, Soto says he is bald under the hair,' said Lu-Tze. 'He says the hair is a separate creature that just happens to live on him. They gave him a field posting really quickly after he came up with that one. Hard-working fellow, mark you, and friendly as anything provided you don't touch his hair. Important lesson there: you don't survive in the field by obeying all the rules, including those relating to mental processes. And what name were you given when you were enrolled?'

'Lobsang, ven- uh, Sweeper.'

'Lobsang Ludd?'

'Er... yes, Sweeper.'

'Amazing. So, Lobsang Ludd, you tried to count my surprises, did you? Everybody does. Surprise is the nature of Time, and five is the number of Surprise.'

'Yes, Sweeper. I found the little bridge that tilts and throws you into the carp pool...'

'Good. Good.'

'... and I have found the bronze sculpture of a butterfly that flaps its wings when you breathe on it...'

'That's two.'

'There's the surprising way those little daisies spray you with venomous pollen...'

'Ah, yes. Many people find them extremely surprising.'

'And I believe the fourth surprise is the yodelling stick insect.'

'Well done,' said Lu- Tze, beaming. 'It's very good, isn't it?'

'But I can't find the fifth surprise.'

'Really? Let me know when you find it,' said Lu-Tze. Lobsang Ludd thought about this as he trailed after the sweeper. 'The Garden of Five Surprises is a test,' he said, at last. 'Oh, yes. Nearly everything is.' Lobsang nodded. It was like the Garden of the Four Elements. Every novice found the bronze symbols of three of them - in the carp pond, under a rock, painted on a kite - but none of Lobsang's classmates found Fire. There didn't appear to be a fire anywhere in the garden. After a while Lobsang had reasoned thus: there were in fact five elements, as they had been taught. Four made up the universe, and the fifth, Surprise, allowed it to keep on happening. No one had said that the four in the garden were the material four, so the fourth element in the Garden could be Surprise at the fact that Fire wasn't there. Besides, fire was not generally found in a garden, and the other signs were, truly, in their element. So he'd gone down to the bakeries and opened one of the ovens, and there, glowing red hot below the loaves, was Fire. 'Then... I expect that the fifth surprise is: there is no fifth surprise,' he said. 'Nice try, but no cylindrical smoking thing,' said Lu- Tze. 'And is it not written, “Oo, you are so sharp you'll cut yourself one of these days”?'

'Um, I haven't read that in the sacred texts yet, Sweeper,' said Lobsang uncertainly. 'No, you wouldn't have,' said Lu-Tze. They stepped out of the brittle sunlight into the deep cold of the temple, and walked on through ancient halls and down stairways cut into the rock. The sound of distant chanting followed them. Lu-Tze, who was not holy and therefore could think unholy thoughts, occasionally wondered whether the chanting monks were chanting anything, or were just going 'aahaaahahah'. You could never tell with all that echo.

He turned off the main passage and reached for the handles of a pair of large, red-lacquered doors. Then he looked behind him. Lobsang had stopped dead, some yards away. 'Coming?'

'But not even dongs are allowed in there!' said Lobsang. 'You have to be a Third Djim ting at least!'

'Yeah, right. It's a short-cut. Come on, it's draughty out here.' With extreme reluctance, expecting at any moment the outraged scream of authority, Lobsang trailed after the sweeper. And he was just a sweeper! One of the people who swept the floors and washed the clothes and cleaned the privies! No one had ever mentioned it! Novices heard about Lu-Tze from their very first day - how he'd gone into some of the most tangled knots of time and unravelled them, how he'd constantly dodged the traffic on the crossroads of history, how he could divert time with a word and used this to develop the most subtle arts of battle... ... and here was a skinny little man who was sort of generically ethnic, so that he looked as if he could have come from anywhere, in a robe that had once been white before it fell to all those stains and patches, and the sandals repaired with string. And the friendly grin, as if he was constantly waiting for something amusing to happen. And no belt at all, just another piece of string to hold his robe closed. Even some novices got to the level of grey dong in their first year! The dojo was busy with senior monks at practice. Lobsang had to dodge aside as a pair of fighters whirled past, arms and legs blurring as each sought an opening, paring time into thinner and thinner slivers- 'You! Sweeper!' Lobsang looked round, but the shout had been directed at Lu-Tze. A ting, only just elevated to the Third Djim by the fresh look of his belt, was advancing on the little man, his face red with fury. 'What for are you coming in here, cleaner of filth? This is forbidden!' Lu-Tze's little smile didn't change. But he reached in his robe and brought out a small bag. '

's a short-cut,' he said. He pulled a pinch of tobacco and, while the ting loomed over him, began to roll a cigarette. 'And there's dirt everywhere, too. I'll certainly have a word with the man who does this floor.'