Moving pictures

'Just hang on,' he said. 'I'll go and fetch him.'

Colon pulled his head back into the guardroom and nudged the sleeping form of Corporal Nobbs, currently the other half of the keen-eyed fighting force that was ceaselessly guarding the city.

'Wassat?'

'You seen .ole Throat this morning, Nobby?'

'Yeah, he was in Easy Street. Bought a Jumbo Sausage Surprise off him.'

'He's back selling sausages?'

'Got to. Lost all his money. What's up?'

'Just take a look outside, will you?' said Colon, in a level voice.

Nobby took a look.

'Looks like - would you say it was a thousand elephants, Sarge?'

'Yeah. About a thousand, I'd say.'

'Thought it looked about a thousand.'

'Man down there says Throat ordered 'em,' said Sergeant Colon.

'Get away? He's going into this Jumbo Sausage thing in a big way, then?'

Their eyes met. Nobby's grin was evil.

'Oh, go on,' he said. 'Let me go and tell him. Please?'

Click . . .

Thomas Silverfish, alchemist and failed click producer, stirred the contents of a crucible and sighed wistfully.

A lot of gold had been left behind in Holy Wood, for anyone who had the nerve to go and dig for it. For those who hadn't, and Silverfish wouldn't hesitate to put himself first among that number, there were the old tried-and-tested or, to put it another way, tried-and-repeatedly-failed methods of wealth production. So now he was back home, picking up where he had left off.

'Any good?' said Peavie, who had dropped in to commiserate.

'Well, it's silvery,' said Silverfish doubtfully. 'And it's sort of metallic. And it's heavier than lead. You have to cook up a ton of ore, too. Funny thing is, I thought I was on to something this time. I really thought that this time we were on the way to a new, clear future . . .

'

'What are you going to call it?' said Peavie.

'Oh, I don't know. It's probably not worth naming,' said Silverfish.

'Ankhmorporkery? Silverfishium? Notleadium?' said Peavie.

'Uselessium, more like,' said Silverfish. 'I'm giving up on it and going back to something more sensible.'

Peavie peered into the furnace.

'It doesn't go boom, does it?' he said.

Silverfish gave him a withering look.

'This stuff?' he said. 'Whatever gave you that idea?'

Click . . .