Thief of Time

Greyness was already filling the air. In this space, there was not room for too many Auditors, but that did not really matter. One could speak for all.

Lady LeJean found the corners of her mouth turned up automatically as nine of them appeared. Nine was three threes, and the Auditors liked threes. Two would keep an eye on the other one. Each two would keep an eye on each other one. They don't trust themselves, said one of the voices in her head. Another voice cut in: It's we, we don't trust ourselves. And she thought: Oh, yes. We, not they. I must remember I'm a we.

An Auditor said, Why is there no further progress?

The corners of the mouth turned down again.

“There have been minor problems of precision and alignment,” said Lady LeJean. She found that her hands were rubbing themselves together slowly, and wondered why. She hadn't told them to.

Auditors had never needed body language, so they didn't understand it.

One said, What is the nature of—?

But another one cut in with, Why are you dwelling in this building? The voice was tinted with suspicion.

“The body requires one to do things that cannot be done on the street,” said Lady LeJean, and, because she'd got to know something about Ankh-Morpork, she added, “at least, on many streets. Also, I believe the servant of the clockmaker is suspicious. I have allowed the body to yield to gravity, since that is what it was designed for. It is as well to give the appearance of humanity.”

One, and it was the same one, said, And what is the meaning of these?

It had noticed the paints and the easel. Lady LeJean wished fervently that she'd remembered to put them away.

The one said, You are making an image with pigments?

“Yes. Very badly, I am afraid.”

One said, For what reason?

“I wished to see how humans do it.”

One said, That is simple: the eye receives the input, the hand applies the pigment.

“That's what I thought, but it appears to be much more complex than that—”

The one who had raised the question of the painting drifted towards one of the chairs and said, And what is this?

“It is a cat. It arrived. It does not appear to wish to depart.”

The cat, a feral ginger tom, flicked a serrated ear and curled up in a tighter ball. Anything that could survive in Ankh-Morpork's alleys, with their abandoned swamp dragons, dog packs and furriers' agents, was not about to open even one eye for a bunch of floating nightdresses.

The one who was now getting on Lady LeJean's nerves said: And the reason for its presence?

“It appears to tolerate the company of hu—of apparent humans, asking nothing in return but food, water, shelter and comfort,” said Lady LeJean. “This interests me. Our purpose is to learn, and thus I have, as you can see, begun.” She hoped it sounded better to them than it did to her.

One said, When will the clock problems you spoke of be resolved?

“Oh, soon. Very soon. Yes.”

The one that was beginning to terrify Lady LeJean said, We wonder: is it possible that you are slowing the work in some way?

Lady LeJean felt a prickling on her forehead. Why was it doing that?

“No. Why should I slow the work? There would be no logic to it!”

One said, Hmm.

And an Auditor did not say “Hmm” by accident. “Hmm” had a very precise meaning.

It went on: You are making moisture on your head.

“Yes. It's a body thing.”

One said, Yes. And that, too, had a very specific and ominous meaning.

One said, We wonder if too long in a solid body weakens resolve. Also, we find it hard to see your thoughts.

“Body again, I am afraid. The brain is a very imprecise instrument.” Lady LeJean got control of her hands at last.

One said, Yes.

Another said, When water fills a jug, it takes the shape of the jug. But the water is not the jug, nor is the jug the water.

“Of course,” said Lady LeJean. And, inside, a thought that she hadn't known she was thinking, a thought that turned up out of the darkness behind the eyes, said: We are surely the most stupid creatures in the universe.

One said, It is not good to act alone.

She said, “Of course.” And once again a thought emerged from the darkness: I'm in trouble now.

One said, And therefore you will have companions. No blame attaches. One should never be alone. Together, resolve is strengthened.

Motes began to twinkle in the air.

Lady LeJean's body backed away automatically and, when she saw what was forming, she backed it away further. She had seen humans in all states of life and death, but seeing a body being spun out of raw matter was curiously disquieting when you were currently inhabiting a similar one. It was one of those times when the stomach did the thinking, and thought it wanted to throw up.

Six figures took shape, blinked, and opened their eyes. Three of the figures were male, three were female. They were dressed in human-sized equivalents of the Auditors' robes.

The remaining Auditors drew back, but one said: They will accompany you to the clockmaker, and matters will be resolved today. They will not eat or breathe.

Hah! thought one of the little voices that made up Lady LeJean's thinking.

One of the figures whimpered.

“The body will breathe,” said her ladyship. “You will not persuade it that air is not required.”

She was aware of the choking noises.

“You are thinking, yes, we can exchange necessary materials with the outside world, and this is true,” she went on. “But the body does not know that. It thinks it is dying. Let it breathe.”

There was a series of gasps.

“And you will feel better shortly,” said her ladyship, and was enthralled to hear the inner voice think: These are your jailers, and you are already stronger than them.

One of the figures felt its face with a clumsy hand and, panting, said, “Whom do you speak to with your mouth?”

“You,” said Lady LeJean.

“Us?”

“This will take some explaining—”

“No,” said the Auditor. “Danger lies that way. We believe the body imposes a method of thought on the brain. No blame attaches. It is a… malfunction. We will accompany you to the clockmaker. We will do this now.”

“Not in those clothes,” said Lady LeJean. “You will frighten him. It may lead to irrational actions.”

There was a moment of silence. The Auditors-made-flesh looked hopelessly at one another.

“You have to talk with your mouth,” Lady LeJean prompted. “The minds stay inside the head.”

One said, “What is wrong with these clothes? It is a simple shape found in many human cultures.”

Lady LeJean walked to the window. “See the people down there?” she said. “You must dress in appropriate