Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Humorous,
Fantasy fiction,
Fiction - Fantasy,
Fantasy,
Satire,
Discworld (Imaginary place),
Fantasy:Humour,
Fantasy - General,
Samuel (Fictitious character),
Vimes
Carrot. “Those places have surface laws and underground laws. I know it’s not the same here but…well, it’s how they see the world. And, of course, Hamcrusher’s dwarfs are all deep-downers, and you know how ordinary dwarfs think about them.”
They come bloody close to worshiping them, Vimes thought, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes. It just gets worse and worse.
“All right,” he said. “But this is Ankh-Morpork, and we have our own laws. There can be no harm in us just checking up on the health of Brother Hamcrusher, can there? We can knock on the door, can’t we? Say we’ve got good reason to ask? I know it’s only a rumor, but if enough people believe a rumor like that, we will not be able to keep a lid on it.”
“Good idea, sir.”
“Go and tell Angua I want her along. And…oh, Haddock. And Ringfounder, maybe. You come, too, of course.”
“Er…not a good idea, sir. I happen to know most deep-downers are nervous about me. They believe I’m too human to be a dwarf.”
“Really?”
Six feet three inches in his stockinged feet, thought Vimes. Adopted and raised by dwarfs in a little dwarf mine in the mountains. His dwarfish name is Kzad-bhat, which means Head Banger. He coughed. “Why on earth should they think that, I wonder?” he said.
“All right, I know I’m… technically human, sir, but size has traditionally never been a dwarfish definition of a dwarf. Hamcrusher’s group aren’t happy about me, though.”
“Sorry to hear it. I’ll take Cheery, then.”
“Are you mad, sir? You know what they think about female dwarfs who actually admit it!”
“All right, then, I’ll take Sergeant Detritus. They’ll believe in him all right, won’t they?”
“ Could be said to be a bit provocative, sir—” Carrot began doubtfully.
“Detritus is an Ankh-Morpork copper, Captain, just like you and me,” said Vimes. “I suppose I’m acceptable, am I?”
“Yes, sir, of course. I think you worry them, though.”
“I do? Oh.” Vimes hesitated. “Well, that’s good. And Detritus is an officer of the law. We’ve still got some law here. And as far as I’m concerned, it goes deep. All the way down.”
B loody stupid thing to say, Vimes thought five minutes later, as he walked through the streets at the head of the little squad. He cursed himself for saying it.
Coppers stayed alive by trickery. That’s how it worked. You had your Watch Houses with the big blue lights outside, and you made certain there were always burly watchmen visible in the big public places, and you swanked around like you owned the place. But you didn’t own it. It was all smoke and mirrors. You magicked a little policeman into everyone’s head. You relied on people giving in, knowing the rules. But in truth, a hundred well-armed people could wipe out the Watch, if they knew what they were doing. Once some madman finds out that a copper taken unawares dies just like anyone else, the spell is broken.
Hamcrusher’s dwarfs don’t believe in the City Watch? That could turn out to be a problem. Maybe bringing a troll along was provocative, but Detritus was a citizen, gods damn it, just like everyone else. If you—
“Duddle-dum-duddle-dum-duddle-dum!”
Ah, yes. No matter how bad things were, there was always room for them to get just that little bit worse…
Vimes pulled the smart brown box out of his pocket and flipped it open. The pointy-eared face of a small green imp stared up at him with that wistful, hopeless smile, which, in its various incarnations, he’d come to know and dread.
“Good morning, Insert Name Here! I am the Dis-Organizer Mark Five, the Gooseberry tM . How may I—” it began, speaking fast in order to get as much said as possible before the inevitable interruption.
“I swear I switched you off,” said Vimes.
“You threatened me with a hammer,” said the imp accusingly, and rattled the tiny bars. “He threatens state-of-the-Craft technomancy with a
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