happened?
‘Wel ,’ said the Dean, ‘as far as I can tel , the Bursar opened his wardrobe and found
the man inside.
‘Real y? I wouldn’t have said the poor old Bursar was al that frightening.
‘ No, Archchancel or. The corpse fel out on him.
The Bursar was standing in the corner, wearing his old familiar expression of good-
humoured concussion
‘You al right, old fel ow?’ said Ridcul y. ‘What’s eleven per cent of 1,276?
‘One hundred and forty point three six,’ said the Bursar promptly
‘Ah, right as rain,’ said Ridcul y cheerful y
‘I don’t see why,’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘Just because he can do things
with numbers doesn’t mean everything else is fine.
‘Doesn’t need to be,’ said Ridcul y. ‘Numbers is what he has to do. The poor chap
might be slightly yoyo, but I’ve been reading about it. He’s one of these idiot servants.
‘Savants,’ said the Dean patiently. ‘The word is savants, Ridcul y.
‘Whatever. Those chaps who can tel you what day of the week the first of Grune was
a hundred years ago-
‘-Tuesday-‘ said the Bursar
‘-but can’t tie their bootlaces,’ said Ridcul y. ‘What was a corpse doing in his
wardrobe? An
no one is to say “Not a lot,” or anythin’ tasteless like that. Haven’t had a corpse in a
wardrobe since that business with Archchancel or Buckleby.
‘We al warned Buckleby that the lock was too stiff,’ said the Dean
‘Just out of interest, why was the Bursar fiddling with his wardrobe at this time of
night?’ said Ridcul y
The wizards looked sheepish
‘We were… playing Sardines, Archchancel or,’ said the Dean
‘What’s that?
‘It’s like Hide and Seek, but when you find someone you have to squeeze in with
them,’ said the Dean
‘I just want to be clear about this,’ said Ridcul y. ‘My senior wizards have spent the
evening playing Hide and Seek?
‘Oh, not the whole evening,’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘We played
Grandmother’s Footsteps and I Spy for quite a while until the Senior Wrangler made a
scene just because we wouldn’t let him spel chandelier with an S.
‘Party games? You fel ows?
The Dean sidled closer
‘It’s Miss Smith,’ he mumbled. ‘When we don’t join in she bursts into tears.
‘Who’s Miss Smith?
‘The Cheerful Fairy,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes glumly. ‘If you don’t say yes
to everything her lip wobbles like a plate of jel y. It’s unbearable.
‘We just joined in to stop her weeping,’ said the Dean. ‘It’s amazing how one woman
can be so soggy.
‘If we’re not cheerful she bursts into tears,’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘The
Senior Wrangler’s doing some juggling for her at the moment.
‘But he can’t juggle!
‘I think that’s cheering her up a bit.
‘What you’re tel in’ 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 Ridcul y.
‘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.
Ridcul y 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 smal 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 pul ed out a handful of smal white things
‘Ugh,’ he said
‘Teeth?’ said Ridcul y. ‘Who goes around with a pocket ful of teeth?
‘A very bad fighter?’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. ‘I’l go and get Modo to take
the poor fel ow away, shal ‘
‘If we can get a reading off the thaumameter, perhaps Hex-‘ Ridcul y began
‘Now, Ridcul y,’ said the Dean, ‘I real y think there must be some problems that can
be resolved without having to deal with that damn thinking mil .
Death looked up at Hex
A MACHINE FOR THINKING
‘Er… yes, sir,’ said Ponder Stibbons. ‘You see, when you said… wel , you see, Hex
believes everything… but, look, the sun real y wil come up, won’t it? That’s its job.
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
skul s 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. Th
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 Wil 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 I(
THE HOGFATHER
+++ Yes +++
DO YOU BELIEVE? ANSWER
+++ Yes +++
DO… YOU… BELIEVE? ANSWER
+++ YES +++
There was a change in the il -assembled heap of pipes and tubes that was Hex. The
big wheel creaked into a new position. From the other side of the wal 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 Wan
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
+++ Al 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 CLAD WHEN TONIGHT’S OVER. IT’S MUCH HARDER TO
GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE. He rummaged in his sack. LET ME SEE… HOW OL)
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 al the crew had the Coronation Chicken. Who’
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 mil ion
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 fol owers in a nice little
commune in Empowerment, Southern California. Who’d have thought it
Here am I, thought Susan, a very practical y 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 stairwel
It looked as though people had been camping out up here. There were boxes and
sleeping rol s strewn around. A couple of men were sitting on boxes watching a third
man who was working on a door in one curved wal . 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 othe
‘Hel o,’ said a cheerful voice by her ear. ‘What’s your name?
She made herself turn her head slowly