The Last Hero

‘It has to, sir. It's a million-to-one chance.’

‘Oh, then we don't have to worry. Everyone knows million-to-one chances always work.’

‘Yes, sir. So all I have to do is work out if there's still enough air outside the ship for Leonard to steer it, or how many dragons he will need to fire for how long, and if there will be enough power left to get them off again. I think he's travelling at nearly the right speed, but I'm not sure how much flame the dragons will have left, and I don't know what kind of surface he'll land on or anything they'll find there. I can adapt a few spells, but they were never devised for this sort of thing.’

‘Good man,’ said Ridcully.

‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ said the Dean.

Ponder gave the other wizards a desperate look. How would Lord Vetinari have handled this?

‘Why, yes,’ he said brightly. ‘Perhaps you would be kind enough to find a cabin somewhere and come up with a list of all the various ways I could solve this? And I will just sit here and toy with a few ideas?’

‘That's what I like to see,’ said the Dean. ‘A lad with enough sense to make use of the wisdom of his elders.’

Lord Vetinari gave Ponder a faint smile as they left the cabin.

In the sudden silence Ponder… pondered. He stared at the orrery, walked around it, enlarged sections of it, peered at them, pored over the notes he had made about the power of dragon flight, stared at a model of the Kite, and spent a lot of time looking at the ceiling.

This wasn't the normal way of working for a wizard. A wizard evolved the wish, and then devised the command. He didn't bother much with observing the universe; rocks and trees and clouds could not have anything very intelligent to impart. They didn't even have writing on them, after all.

Ponder looked at the numbers he had scribbled. As a calculation, it was like balancing a feather on a soap bubble which wasn't there.

So he guessed.

On the Kite, the situation was being ‘workshopped’. This is the means by which people who don't know anything get together to pool their ignorance.

‘Could we all hold our breath for a quarter of the time?’ said Carrot.

‘No. Breath doesn't work like that, alas,’ said Leonard.

‘Perhaps we should all stop talking?’ said Rincewind.

‘Ook,’ said the Librarian, pointing to the fuzzy screen of the omniscope.

Someone was holding up another placard. The huge words could just be made out:

THIS IS WHAT YOU DO.

Leonard snatched a pencil and began to scribble in the corner of a drawing of a machine for undermining city walls.

Five minutes later he put it down again.

‘Remarkable,’ he said. ‘He wants us to point the Kite in a different direction and go faster.’

‘Where to?’

‘He doesn't say. But… ah, yes. He wants us to fly directly towards the sun.’

Leonard gave them one of his bright smiles. It faced three blank stares.

‘It will mean allowing one or two individual dragons to flare for a few seconds, to bring us around, and then—’

‘The sun,’ said Rincewind.

‘It's hot,’ said Carrot.

‘Yes, and I am sure we're all very glad of that,’ said Leonard, unrolling a plan of the Kite.

‘Ook!’

‘I'm sorry?’

‘He said, “And this boat is made of wood!”’ said Rincewind.

‘All that in one syllable?’

‘He's a very concise thinker! Look, Stibbons must have made a mistake. I wouldn't trust a wizard to give me directions to the other side of a very small room!’

‘He does seem to be a bright young man, though,’ said Carrot.

‘You'll be bright, too, if you're in this thing when it hits the sun,’ said Rincewind. ‘Incandescent, I expect.’

‘We can point the Kite if we're very careful how we operate the port and starboard mirrors,’ said Leonard thoughtfully. ‘There may be a little trial and error…’

‘Ah, we seem to have the hang of it,’ said Leonard. He turned over a small eggtimer. ‘And now, all dragons for two minutes…’

‘I ssuppose he'll ttell uss ssoon wwhat happens nnext?’ shouted Carrot, while behind them things tinkled and creaked.

‘Mmr Sstibbonss hhas ttwo ththousand yyears of uuniversity eexpertise bbehind hhim!’ yelled Leonard, above the din.

‘Hhow mmuch of ththat hhas iinvolved ssteering fflying sships wwith ddragons?’ screamed Rincewind.

Leonard leaned against the tug of home-made gravity and looked at the eggtimer.

‘Aabout wwwwwone hhundred sseconds!’

‘Ah! Iiit'ss ppractically aaa ttradition, tthenn!’

Erratically, the dragons stopped flaming. Once again, things filled the air.

And there was the sun. But no longer circular. Something had clipped its edge.

‘Ah,’ said Leonard. ‘How clever. Gentlemen, behold the moon!’

‘We're going to hit the moon instead?’ said Carrot. ‘Is that better?’

‘My feelings exactly,’ said Rincewind.

‘Ook!’

‘I don't think we're going so very fast,’ said Leonard. ‘We're only just catching it up. I think Mr Stibbons intends that we land on it.’

He flexed his fingers.

‘There's some air there, I'm sure of it,’ he went on. ‘Which means there is probably something we can feed to the dragons. And then, and this is very clever thinking, we ride on the moon until it rises over the Disc, and all we need to do is drop down lightly.’

He kicked the release on the wing levers. The cabin rattled to the spinning of the flywheels. On either side, the Kite spread its wings.

‘Any questions?’ he said.

‘I'm trying to think of all the things that could go wrong,’ said Carrot.

‘I've got to nine so far,’ said Rincewind. ‘And I haven't started on the fine detail.’

The moon was getting bigger, a dark sphere eclipsing the light of the distant sun.

‘As I understand it,’ said Leonard, as it began to loom in the windows, ‘the moon, being much smaller and lighter than the Disc, can only hold on to light things, like air. Heavier things, like the Kite, should hardly be able to stay on the ground.’

‘And that means…?’ said Carrot.

‘Er… we should just float down,’ said Leonard. ‘But holding on to something might be a good idea…’

They landed. It's a short sentence, but contains a lot of incident.

There was silence on the boat, apart from the sound of the sea and Ponder Stibbons's urgent muttering as he tried to adjust the omniscope.

‘The screams…’ murmured Mustrum Ridcully, after a while.