some juggling for her at the moment.’
‘But he can't juggle!’
‘I think that's cheering her up a bit.’
‘What you're tellin' me, then, is that my wizards are prancing around playin' children's games just to cheer up some dejected fairy?’
‘Er… yes.’
‘I thought you had to clap your hands and say you believed in 'em,’ said Ridcully. ‘Correct me if I'm wrong.’
‘That's just for the little shiny ones,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. ‘Not for the ones in saggy cardigans with half a dozen hankies stuffed up their sleeves.’
Ridcully looked at the corpse again.
‘Anyone know who he is? Looks a bit of a ruffian to me. And where's his boots, may I ask?’
The Dean took a small glass cube from his pocket and ran it over the corpse.
‘Quite a large thaumic reading, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘I think he got here by magic.’
He rummaged in the man's pockets and pulled out a handful of small white things.
‘Ugh,’ he said.
‘Teeth?’ said Ridcully. ‘Who goes around with a pocket full of teeth?’
‘A very bad fighter?’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘I'll go and get Modo to take the poor fellow away, shall I?’
‘If we can get a reading off the thaumameter, perhaps Hex—’ Ridcully began.
‘Now, Ridcully,’ said the Dean, ‘I really think there must be some problems that can be resolved without having to deal with that damn thinking mill.’
Death looked up at Hex.
A MACHINE FOR THINKING?
‘Er… yes, sir,’ said Ponder Stibbons. ‘You see, when you said… well, you see, Hex believes everything… but, look, the sun really will come up, won't it? That's its
LEAVE US.
Ponder backed away, and then scurried out of the room.
The ants flowed along their tubes. Cogwheels spun. The big wheel with the sheep skulls on it creaked around slowly. A mouse squeaked, somewhere in the works.
WELL? said Death.
After a while, the pen began to write.
+++ Big Red Lever Time +++ Query +++
NO. THEY SAY YOU ARE A THINKER. EXTEND LOGICALLY THE RESULT OF THE HUMAN RACE CEASING TO BELIEVE IN THE HOGFATHER. WILL THE SUN COME UP? ANSWER.
It took several minutes. The wheels spun. The ants ran. The mouse squeaked. An eggtimer came down on a spring. It bounced aimlessly for a while, and then jerked back up again.
Hex wrote: +++ The Sun Will Not Come Up +++
CORRECT. HOW MAY THIS BE PREVENTED? ANSWER.
+++ Regular and Consistent Belief +++
GOOD. I HAVE A TASK FOR YOU, THINKING ENGINE.
+++ Yes. I Am Preparing An Area Of WriteOnly Memory +++
WHAT IS THAT?
+++ You Would Say: To Know In Your Bones +++
GOOD. HERE IS YOUR INSTRUCTION. BELIEVE IN THE HOGFATHER.
+++ Yes +++
DO YOU BELIEVE? ANSWER.
+++ Yes +++
DO… YOU… BELIEVE? ANSWER.
+++ YES +++
There was a change in the ill-assembled heap of pipes and tubes that was Hex. The big wheel creaked into a new position. From the other side of the wall came the hum of busy bees.
GOOD.
Death turned to leave the room, but stopped when Hex began to write furiously. He went back and looked at the emerging paper.
+++ Dear Hogfather, For Hogswatch I Want
OH, NO. YOU CAN'T WRITE LETT— Death paused, and then said, YOU CAN, CAN'T YOU.
+++ Yes. I Am Entitled +++
Death waited until the pen had stopped, and picked up the paper.
BUT YOU ARE A MACHINE. THINGS HAVE NO DESIRES. A DOORKNOB WANTS NOTHING, EVEN THOUGH IT IS A COMPLEX MACHINE.
+++ All Things Strive +++
YOU HAVE A POINT, said Death. He thought of tiny red petals in the black depths, and read to the end of the list.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT MOST OF THESE THINGS ARE. I DON'T THINK THE SACK WILL, EITHER.
+++ I Regret This +++
BUT WE WILL DO THE BEST WE CAN, said Death.
FRANKLY, I SHALL BE GLAD WHEN TONIGHT'S OVER. IT'S MUCH HARDER TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE. He rummaged in his sack. LET ME SEE… HOW OLD ARE YOU?
Susan crept up the stairs, one hand on the hilt of the sword.
Ponder Stibbons had been worried to find himself, as a wizard, awaiting the arrival of the Hogfather. It's amazing how people define roles for themselves and put handcuffs on their experience and are constantly surprised by the things a roulette universe spins at them. Here am I, they say, a mere wholesale fishmonger, at the controls of a giant airliner because as it turns out all the crew had the Coronation Chicken. Who'd have thought it? Here am I, a housewife who merely went out this morning to bank the proceeds of the Playgroup Association's Car Boot Sale, on the run with one million in stolen cash and a rather handsome man from the Battery Chickens' Liberation Organization. Amazing! Here am I, a perfectly ordinary hockey player, suddenly realizing I'm the Son of God with five hundred devoted followers in a nice little commune in Empowerment, Southern California. Who'd have thought it?
Here am I, thought Susan, a very practically minded governess who can add up faster upside down than most people can the right way up, climbing up a toothshaped tower belonging to the Tooth Fairy and armed with a sword belonging to Death…
Again! I wish one month, just one damn month, could go by without something like this happening to me.
She could hear voices above her. Someone said something about a lock.
She peered over the edge of the stairwell.
It looked as though people had been camping out up here. There were boxes and sleeping rolls strewn around. A couple of men were sitting on boxes watching a third man who was working on a door in one curved wall. One of the men was the biggest Susan had ever seen, one of those huge fat men who contrive to indicate that a lot of the fat under their shapeless clothes is muscle. The other —
‘Hello,’ said a cheerful voice by her ear. ‘What's
She made herself turn her head slowly.
First she saw the grey, glinting eye. Then the yellow-white one with the tiny dot of a pupil came into view.
Around them was a friendly pink and white face topped by curly hair. It was actually quite pretty, in a boyish
