“it is indeed magnificent,’ he whispered. “A work of true art.’
“Craft,’ said the thickset man by his side. The Arch-astronomer turned slowly and looked up at the man’s impassive face. It isn’t particularly hard for a face to look impassive-when there are two golden ‘Spheres where the eyes should be. They glowed disconcertingly.
“Craft, indeed,’ said the astronomer, and smiled
“I would imagine that there is no greater craftsman on the entire disc than you, Goldeneyes. Would I be right?’
The craftsman paused, his naked body – naked at least, were it not for a toolbelt, a wrist abacus and a deep tan – tensing as he considered the implicationS of this last remark. The golden eyes appeared to be looking into some other world.
“The anSwer is both yes and no,’ he said at last Some of the lesser astronomers behind the throne gasped at this lack of etiquette, but the Arch astronomer appeared not to have noticed it.
cContinue,’ he said
“There are some essential skills that I lack. Yet I am Goldeneyes Silverhand Dactylos,’ said the craftsman. “I made the Metal Warriors that guard the Tomb of Pitchiu, I designed the Light Dams of the Great Nef, I built the Palace of the Seven Deserts. And yet-‘ he reached up and tapped one of his eyes, which rang faintly, ‘when I built the golem army for Pitchiu he loaded me down with gold and then, so that I would create no other work to rival my work for him, he had my eyes put out.’
“Wise but cruel,’ said the Arch-astronomer sym
pathetically.
“Yah. So I learned to hear the temper of metals and to see with my fingers. I learned how to distinguish ores by taste and smell. I made these eyes, but I cannot make them see.
“Next I was summoned to build the Palace of the Seven Deserts, as a result of which the Emir showered me with silver and then, not entirely to my surprise, had my right hand cut off.’
“A grave hindrance in your line of business,’
nodded the Arch-astronomer.
“I used some of the silver to make myself this new hand, putting to use my unrivalled knowledge of levers and fulcrums. It suffices. After I created the first great Light Dam, which had a capacity of
,r)0,000 daylight hours, the tribal councils of the Nef loaded me down with fine silks and then hamstrung me so that I could not escape. As a result I was put to some inconvenience to use the silk and some bamboo to build a flying machine from which I could launch myself from the top-most turret of my prison.’
“Bringing you, by various diversions, to Krull,’
Side 99
Pratchett, Terry – Discworld 01 – The Colour of Magic said the Arch-astronomer. “And one cannot help feeling that some alternative occupation – lettuce farming, say – would offer somewhat less of a risk of being put to death by instalments. Why do you continue in it? Goldeneyes Dactylos shrugged.
“I’m good at it,’ he said.
The Arch-astronomer looked up again
bronze fish, shining now like a gong in the noontime sun.
“Such beauty,’ he murmured. “And unique. Come, Dactylos. Recall to me what it was that I promised should be your reward?’
‘You asked me to design a fish that would swim through the seas of space that lie between the worlds,’ intoned the master craftsman. “In return for which – in return-‘
‘Yes? My memory is not what it used to be,’
purred the Arch-astronomer, stroking the warm bronze.
“in return,’ continued Dactylos, without much apparent hope, “you would set me free, and refrain from chopping off any appendages. I require no treasure.’
“Ah, yes. I recall now.’ The old man raised a blueveined hand, and added, “I lied.’
There waS the merest whisper of sound, and the goldeneyed man rocked on his feet. Then he looked down at the arrowhead protruding from his chest, and nodded wearily. A speck of blood bloomed on his lips.
There was no sound in the entire square (save for the buzzing of a few expectant flies) as his silver hand came up, very slowly, and fingered the arrowhead.
Dactylos grunted.
‘Sloppy workmanship,’ he said, and toppled backwards.
The Arch-astronomer prodded the body with his toe, and sighed.
‘There will be a short period of mourning, as befits a master craftsman,’ he said. He watched a bluebottle alight on one golden eye and fly away puzzled . . . “That would seem to be long enough,’
said the Arch-astronomer, and beckoned a couple of slaves to carry the corpse away.
“Are the chelonauts ready?’ he asked.
The master launchcontroller hustled forward.
“indeed, your prominence,’ he said.
“The correct prayers are being intoned?
“quite so, your prominence.’
“How long to the doorway?’
“The launch window,’ corrected the master launchcontroller carefully. “Three days, your prominence. Great A’Tuin’s tail will be in an unmatched position.’
‘Then all that remains,’ concluded the Arch-astronomer, “is to find the appropriate sacrifiCe.’
The master launchcontroller bowed.
“The ocean shall provide,’ he said.
The old man smiled. it always does,’ he said
“if only you could navigate’
“if only you could steer-‘
A wave washed over the deck. Rincewind and Twoflower looked at each other. “keep bailing!’
Side 100
Pratchett, Terry – Discworld 01 – The Colour of Magic they screamed in unison, and reached for the buckets.
After a while Twoflower’s peevish voice filtered up from the waterlogged cabin.
“I don’t see how it’s my fault,’ he said. He handed up another bucket, which the wizard tipped over the side.
“You were supposed to be on watch,’ snapped Rincewind.
‘I saved us from the slavers, remember,’ said Twoflower.
‘i’d rather be a slave than a corpse,’ replied the wizard. He straightened up and looked out to sea.
He appeared puzzled.
He was a somewhat different Rincewind from the one that escaped the fire of Ankh-Morpork six months before. More scarred, for one thing. And much more travelled. He had visited the
,Hublands, discovered the curious folkways of many colourful peoples – invariably obtaining more scars in the process – and had even, for a never-to-be-forgotten few days, sailed on the legendary Dehydrated Ocean at the heart of the incredibly dry desert known as the Great Nef. On a colder and wetter sea he had seen floating mountains of ice. He had ridden on an imaginary dragon. He had very nearly said the most powerful spell on the disc. He
had-there was definitely less horizon than there ought to be.
‘Hmm’ Said Rincewind.
‘I said nothing’s worse than slavery,’ said Twoflower. His mouth opened as the wizard flung his bucket far out to sea and sat down heavily on the waterlogged deck, his face a grey mask.
“look, I’m sorry I steered us into the reef, but this boat doesn’t seem to want to sink and we’re bound to strike land sooner or later,’ said Twoflower comfortingly. ‘This current must go somewhere.’
‘Look at the horizon,’ Said Rincewind, in a monotone.
Twoflower squinted.
“it looks all right,’ he said after a while.
‘Admittedly, there seems to be less than there usually is, but-‘ ‘That’s because of the Rimfall,’ said Rincewind.
‘We’re being carried over the edge of the world.’
There was a long silence, broken only by the lapping of the waves as the foundering ship spun slowly in the current. It was already quite strong.
‘That’S probably why we hit that reef,’
Rincewind added. “we got pulled off course during the night.’
“Would you like something to eat?’ asked Twoflower. He began to rummage through the bundle that he had tied to the rail, out of the damp.
‘Don’t you understand?’ snarled Rincewind. “We are going over the Edge, ‘godsdammit!’
“Can’t we do anything about it?’
‘No!’
“Then I can’t see the sense in panicking,’ said Twoflower calmly.
“I knew we shouldn’t have come this far Edgewise,’ complained Rincewind to the skye ‘I Side 101
Pratchett, Terry – Discworld 01 – The Colour of Magic wish-‘
“I wish I had my picture-box,’ said Twoflower,
‘but it’s back on that slaver ship with the rest of the Luggage and-‘
“You won’t need luggage where we’re going,’ said Rincewind. He sagged, and stared moodily at a distant whale that had carelessly strayed into the rimward current and was now struggling against it.
There was a line of white on the foreshortened horizon, and the wizard fancied he could hear a distant roaring.
“What happens after a ship goes over the Rim
fall?’ said Twoflower.
“Who knows?’
“Well, in that case perhaps we’ll just sail on through space and land on another world.’ A faraway look came into the little man’s eyes. “i’d like that,’ he said.
Rincewind snorted.
The sun rose in the sky, looking noticeably bigger this close to the Edge. They stood with their backs against the mast, busy with their own thoughts. Every so often one or other would pick up a bucket and do a bit of desultory bailing, for no very intelligent reason.