Behind him the Mandala returned to its slow metering of the present.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ said the monk.
Lu-Tze shook the hand free and turned to face the abbot over the shoulder of the chief acolyte.
‘I want permission to track this one down right now, reverend sir!’ he said. He tapped his nose. ‘I’ve got the smell of it! I’ve been waiting for this all these years! You won’t find me wanting this time!’
In the silence the abbot blew a bubble.
‘It’ll be in Uberwald again,’ said Lu-Tze, a hint of pleading in his voice. ‘That’s where they mess around with the electrick. I know every inch of that place! Give me a couple of men and we can nip this right in the bud!’
‘Bababababa … This needs discussion, Lu-Tze, but we thank you for your offer babababa,’ said the abbot. ‘Rinpo, I want all bdumbdumbdum senior field monks in the Room of Silence within five bababa minutes! Are the spinners working bdumbdum harmoniously?’
One of the monks looked up from a scroll he’d been handed.
‘It appears so, your reverence.’
‘My congratulations to the board master BIKKIT!’
‘But Shoblang is dead,’ murmured Lu-Tze.
The abbot stopped blowing bubbles. ‘That is sad news. And he was a friend of yours, I understand.’
‘Shouldn’t’ve happened like that,’ the sweeper muttered. ‘Shouldn’t’ve happened like that.’
‘Compose yourself, Lu-Tze. I will talk to you shortly. Bikkit! The chief acolyte, spurred on by a blow across the ear with a rubber monkey, hurried away.
The press of monks began to thin out as they went about their duties. Lu-Tze and Lobsang were left on the balcony, looking down at the rippling Mandala.
Lu-Tze cleared his throat. ‘See them spinners at the end?’ he said. ‘The little one records the patterns for a day, and then anything interesting is stored in the big ones.’
‘I just premembered you were going to say that.’
‘Good word. Good word. The lad has talent.’ Lu-Tze lowered his voice. ‘Anyone watching us?’
Lobsang looked around. ‘There’s a few people still here.’
Lu-Tze raised his voice again. ‘You been taught anything about the Big Crash?’
‘Only rumours, Sweeper.’
‘Yeah, there were a lot of rumours. “The day time stood still”, all that sort of thing.’ Lu-Tze sighed. ‘Y’know, most of what you get taught is lies. It has to be. Sometimes if you get the truth all at once, you can’t understand it. You knew Ankh-Morpork pretty well, did you? Ever go to the opera house?’
‘Only for pickpocket practice, Sweeper.’
‘Ever wonder about it? Ever look at that little theatre just over the road? Called The Dysk, I think.’
‘Oh, yes! We got penny tickets and sat on the ground and threw nuts at the stage.’
‘And it didn’t make you think? Big opera house, all plush and gilt and big orchestras, and then there’s this little thatched theatre, all bare wood and no seats and one bloke playing a crumhorn for musical accompaniment?’
Lobsang shrugged. ‘Well, no. That’s just how things are.’
Lu-Tze almost smiled. ‘Very flexible things, human minds,’ he said. ‘It’s amazing what they can stretch to fit. We did a fine job there-‘
‘Lu-Tze?’
One of the lesser acolytes was waiting respectfully.
‘The abbot will see you now,’ he said.
‘Ah, right,’ said the sweeper. He nudged Lobsang and whispered, ‘We’re going to Ankh-Morpork, lad.’
‘What? But you said you wanted to be sent to-‘
Lu-Tze winked. ‘ ‘cos it is written, “Them as asks, don’t get,” see. There’s more than one way of choking a dangdang than stuffing it with pling, lad.’
‘Is there?’
‘Oh yes, if you’ve got enough pling. Now let’s see the abbot, shall we? It’ll be time for his feed now. Solids, thank goodness. At least he’s done with the wetnurse. It was so embarrassing for him and the young lady, honestly, you didn’t know where to put your face and neither did he. I mean, mentally he’s nine hundred years old…’
‘That must make him very wise.’
‘Pretty wise, pretty wise. But age and wisdom don’t necessarily go together, I’ve always found,’ said Lu-Tze, as they approached the abbot’s rooms. ‘Some people just become stupid with more authority. Not his reverence, of course.’
The abbot was in his highchair, and had recently flicked a spoonful of nourishing pap all over the chief acolyte, who was smiling like a man whose job depended on looking happy that parsnip-and-gooseberry custard was dribbling down his forehead.
It occurred to Lobsang, not for the first time, that the abbot was a little bit more than purely random in his attacks on the man. The acolyte was, indeed, the kind of mildly objectionable person who engendered an irresistible urge in any right-thinking person to pour goo into his hair and hit him with a rubber yak, and the abbot was old enough to listen to his inner child.
‘You sent for me, your reverence,’ said Lu-Tze, bowing.
The abbot upturned his bowl down the chief acolyte’s robe.
‘Wahahaahaha ah, yes, Lu-Tze. How old are you now?’
‘Eight hundred, your reverence. But that’s no age at all!’
‘Nevertheless, you have spent a lot of time in the world. I understood you were looking to retire and cultivate your gardens?’
‘Yes, but-‘
‘But,’ the abbot smiled angelically, like an old warhorse you say “haha!” at the sound of trumpets, yes?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘There’s nothing funny about trumpets, really.’
‘I meant that you long to be out in the field again. But you have been helping to train world operatives for many years, haven’t you? These gentlemen?’
A number of burly and muscular monks were sitting on one side of the room. They were kitted out for travel, with rolled sleeping mats on their backs, and dressed in loose black clothing. They nodded sheepishly at Lu-Tze, and their eyes above their half-masks looked embarrassed.
‘I did my best,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘Of course, others trained them. I just tried to undo the damage. I never taught them to be ninjas.’ He nudged Lobsang. ‘That, apprentice, is Agatean for “the Passing Wind”,’ he said, in a stage whisper.
‘I am proposing to send them out immediately WAH!’ The abbot hit his highchair with his spoon. ‘That is my order, Lu-Tze. You are a legend, but you have been a legend for a long time. Why not trust in the future? Bikkit!’
‘I see,’ said Lu-Tze sadly. ‘Oh, well, it had to happen some time. Thank you for your consideration, your reverence.’
‘Brrmbrrm … Lu-Tze, I have known you a long time! You will not go within a hundred miles of Uberwald, will you?’
‘Not at all, your reverence.’
‘That is an order!’
‘I understand, of course.’
‘You’ve disobeyed my baababa orders before, though. In Omnia, I remember.’
‘Tactical decision made by the man on the spot, your reverence. It was more what you might call an interpretation of your order,’ said Lu-Tze.
‘You mean, going where you had distinctly been told not to go and doing what you were absolutely forbidden to do?’
‘Yes, your reverence. Sometimes you have to move the seesaw by pushing the other end. When I did what shouldn’t be done in a place where I shouldn’t have been, I achieved what needed to be done in the place where it should have happened.’
The abbot gave Lu-Tze a long hard stare, the kind that babies are good at giving.
‘Lu-Tze, you are not nmnmnbooboo to go to Uberwald or anywhere near Uberwald, understand?’ he said.
‘I do, your reverence. You are right, of course. But, in my dotage, may I travel another path, of wisdom rather than violence? I wish to show this young man… the Way.’
There was laughter from the other monks.
‘The Way of the Washerwoman?’ said Rinpo.
‘Mrs Cosmopilite is a dressmaker,’ said Lu-Tze calmly.
‘Whose wisdom is in sayings like “It won’t get better if you pick at it”?’ said Rinpo, winking at the rest of the monks.
‘Few things get better if you pick at them,’ said Lu-Tze, and now his calmness was a lake of tranquillity. ‘It may be a mean little Way but, small and unworthy though it is, it is my Way.’ He turned to the abbot. ‘That was how it used to be, your reverence. You recall? Master and pupil go out into the world, where the pupil may pick up practical instruction by precept and example, and then the pupil finds his own Way and at the end of his Way-‘
‘-he finds himself bdum,’ said the abbot.
‘First, he finds a teacher,’ said Lu-Tze.
‘He is lucky that you will bdumbdum be that teacher.’
‘Reverend sir,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘It is in the nature of Ways that none can be sure who the teacher may be. All I can do is show him a path.’
‘Which will be in the direction of bdum the city,’ said the abbot.
‘Yes,’ said Lu-Tze. ‘And Ankh-Morpork is a long way from Uberwald. You won’t send me to Uberwald because I am an old man. So, in all respect, I beg you to humour an old man.’