‘Did you see that she tried to stare me down?’ said Margolotta.
‘Yes,’ said Vetinari. ‘I saw that she succeeded.’
When Glenda and Trev got back to the Hippo, Nutt looked at them expectantly. ‘He hardly listened,’ said Trev.
‘Quite so,’ said Nutt. ‘I am confident of our success on the morrow. I am quite certain that we will be tactically supreme.’
‘I’m just glad I won’t be playin’, that’s all,’ said Trev.
‘Yes, Mister Trev, that really is a great shame.’
From the nearby table where last-minute adjustments were being made by the Football League came the voice of somebody saying, ‘Nah, nah. Look, you’ve still got it wrong. If a bloke from side B is closer to the goalkeeper – no, I tell a lie – if he’s closer to the goal than the goalkeeper, then he surely puts one away there and then. Stands to reason.’
There was a sigh that could only have come from Ponder Stibbons. ‘No, I don’t think you understand . . .’
Another voice chipped in. ‘If the goalkeeper is that far out of his goal then he’s a pillock!’
‘Look, let’s start again,’ said another voice. ‘Supposing I’m this bloke here.’ Trev looked across and saw one of the men flick a screwed-up piece of paper across the table. ‘Like, I’ve kicked the ball that far and this is me, this piece of paper. Then what?’ He flicked the paper once again, which hit Ponder’s pencil.
‘No! I’ve already explained that. And stop flicking bits of paper around, I find it very confusing.’
‘But it must work if he dribbles on it,’ said a voice.
‘Hold on a minute, though,’ said yet another voice. ‘What happens, right, if you get the ball in your own half of the field and run all the way, not passing it to anyone else, and get it into the net?’
‘That would be perfectly legal,’ said Ponder.
‘Yeah, but there’s no way that’s goin’ to happen, is there?’ said the man who had just flicked a soggy piece of paper and had enjoyed it so much that he’d flicked another one.
‘But if he tries and succeeds it would be magnificent football, would it not?’ said Ponder.
‘Where’s our team?’ said Trev, looking around.
‘I’ve suggested they have an early night,’ said Ponder.
‘An early night for wizards is two o’clock in the morning,’ said Glenda.
‘I have also given instructions that the team are to have a special meal this evening,’ said Nutt. ‘On that note, Miss Glenda, I shall have to ask you to lock the Night Kitchen.’
***
Stony silence hung over the dining room that evening.
‘I don’t eat salads,’ said Bledlow Nobbs (no relation). ‘They gives me the wind.’
‘How can a man live without pasta?’ said Bengo. ‘This is barbaric!’
‘I hope you notice that my plate is as barren as yours, gentlemen,’ said Ridcully. ‘Mister Nutt is training us and I’m allowing Mister Nutt the driver’s seat. Nor is there to be any smoking this evening.’
There was a chorus of dismay and he raised his hand for silence. ‘Also, his instruction here . . .’ He looked closer at Nutt’s rather untidy writing and gave a little smile. ‘There is to be no sexual congress.’ This did not meet with the reaction he had expected.
‘That means talking about it, doesn’t it?’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.
‘No, that’s oral sex,’ said Rincewind.
‘No, that’s listening to it.’
Bengo Macarona sat with a dazed look on his face.
‘Now, I don’t want any sneaking off for midnight snacks,’ said Ridcully. ‘There are rules. Mrs Whitlow and Miss Sugarbean have been told that I fully back Mister Nutt’s authority here. Surely you gentlemen could show some backbone?’
‘In an attempt to show solidarity with the rest of the team,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, ‘I am led to believe that there is some cheese in the mousetrap in my room.’
Ridcully was left all alone with only the echo of falling chairs for company.
The Archchancellor repaired to his own room and tossed his hat on to its stand. There have to be rules, he said to himself, and there has to be a rule for them and a rule for me. He went to his eight-poster bed and opened the hatch containing the tobacco jar. It now contained a little note instead, saying,
‘Dear Archchancellor,
In accordance with your ratification of Mister Nutt’s instructions that the faculty are not to be allowed food or the implements of smoking this evening, I’ve taken the liberty of clearing away your cigarettes and pipe tobacco. May I also mention that I have emptied the cool cupboard of the usual cold cuts and pickles to avoid temptation.’
‘Bugger,’ said Ridcully under his breath.
He walked to his wardrobe and rummaged in the pocket of his smoking jacket, coming up with a note that said,
‘In accordance with Mister Nutt’s rules, as ratified by yourself, Archchancellor [and it was remarkable how reproachful Mrs Whitlow could make her handwriting], I have taken the liberty of removing your emergency peppermints.’
‘Change and decay!’ Ridcully declared to the night air. ‘I am surrounded by traitors! They thwart me at every turn.’ He wandered disconsolately past his bookcase and pulled out Boddrys’ Occult Companion, a book he knew by heart. And because he knew the book by heart, page 14 opened on to a neat little cavity, which contained a packet of extra-strong liquorice mints, an ounce of Jolly Sailor tobacco and a packet of Wizzla’s . . . And, as it turned out, a small note:
‘Dear Archchancellor,
I just didn’t have the heart. Mrs Whitlow.’
It seemed darker than usual. Generally, the Archchancellor’s rulings were obeyed, and it seemed to the members of Unseen Academicals that every door was closed, indeed slammed, as they searched for food. Every pantry was locked and spell-proofed. The team trudged helplessly from one hall to another.
‘I do have some reheatable pasta in my room,’ said Bengo Macarona. ‘My grandmother gave it to me before I came down here. It will keep for ten years and my grandmother says that it will taste as good after ten years as it does now. I regret that she may have been telling the truth.’
‘If you get it, we could cook it up in my room,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
‘If you like. It contains alligator testicles, for nourishment. They are very popular at home.’
‘I didn’t know alligators had testicles,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
‘They haven’t got ’em any more,’ said Bledlow Nobbs (no relation).
‘I’ve got a biscuit, we could share that out,’ said Ponder Stibbons. He was immediately pierced by their questioning gazes. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I am not going to countermand the Archchancellor’s orders any further than that. I would never hear the last of it, gentlemen. Without a hierarchy we are nothing.’
‘The Librarian will have some bananas,’ said Rincewind.
‘Are you sure?’ said Macarona.
‘I think the Librarian has a motto in these cases: “If you try to take my bananas from me, I will reclaim them from your cold dead hands.” ’
Trev, who had been lurking in the shadows, waited until the rumble of stomachs died away in the distance and then hurried back and knocked on the bolted door of the Night Kitchen. ‘They’ve all met up and they’re headed for the Library.’
‘Good, I think he’ll share his bananas with them,’ said Nutt.
‘I don’t really see the point,’ said Glenda.
‘The point is they are friends. Partners in adversity. They are a team. That is football. You have to train a team to be a team and I will have no problem with them having a very large breakfast in the morning.’
Nutt was changing, Trev thought. ‘Can I ask you a personal question, Mister Nutt?’
‘Nearly all the questions people ask me are personal, though do go ahead, Mister Trev.’
‘Well, er, all right. Sometimes you look b
ig and sometimes you look small. What’s that all about?’
‘It is something built into us,’ said Nutt. ‘I believe that it is a product of the morphic field contracting and expanding. It affects your perceptions.’
‘When you’re upset, you do look very small,’ said Glenda.
‘What size do I look now?’
‘Pretty big,’ said Trev.
‘Good,’ said Nutt, helping himself to a slice of pie. ‘Tomorrow I intend to look even bigger.’
‘There’s somethin’ else we have to do,’ said Trev. ‘Pepe wants to help me. He thinks I’m gonna play football.’
‘Well, you are going to play football,’ said Nutt.
‘No! You know this! I promised my ol’ mum and you can’t break a promise to your ol’ mum, Gods rest her soul. Do you ’ave keys to the wine cellar, Glenda?’
‘Do you think I’d tell you, Trev Likely?’
‘Thought not. I want two bottles of best brandy. And, er, could you all come with me, please? I think Pepe means well, but he, er, well, you know him, it’s midnight and everythin’.’
‘I think I know Pepe,’ said Glenda.
There was a guard on the rear door of Shatta, but before he could even think of turning away Trev and his bodyguards, Pepe appeared. ‘Cor! Three chums. I must be very frightening,’ he said, leering. ‘Hello, chums, got the brandy?’
‘Yes, what’s this all about, Pepe? You’ve been putting the willies up Trev,’ said Glenda.
‘I never have! I hardly ever put the willies up anyone these days. I just told him he was going to play in the football.’
‘I promised my ol’ mum,’ said Trev, clinging to the declaration as if it were a tiny raft in a choppy sea.
‘But you’ve got a star in your hand and you don’t have much of a choice.’
Trev looked at his palm. ‘Just a lot of lines.’
‘Well there’s them that has the sight and there again there’s them that don’t. I’m one of those that have. ’s metaphorical, see. But all it is is that I would like to give you a little something that may be of use to you tomorrow. What am I saying? It might damn well save your life,’ said Pepe. ‘It’ll certainly save your marriage. I’m sure the ladies here would like to think that us at Shatta have done the best for you.’
‘For what it’s worth, Trev, I trust Pepe,’ said Glenda.
‘And this is Mister Nutt,’ said Trev. ‘He’s a friend.’
‘Yeah. I know what Mister Nutt is,’ said Pepe. ‘And you can come, too. I am pleased to make your . . . acquaintance.’
He turned to Glenda. ‘You girls stay here, miss,’ he said. ‘This is no errand for a lady.’ He ushered the boys into the gloom. ‘What I’m going to show you gentlemen is top secret and if you cross me, Trev Likely, I will do things that will make Andy Shank look like a play ground bully.’
‘Andy was a playground bully,’ said Trev, as they reached what was clearly a forge.
‘Micromail,’ said Pepe with satisfaction. ‘The world hasn’t seen the half of it yet.’
‘It just looks like fine chain mail,’ said Nutt.
‘It’s strange stuff,’ said the dwarf. ‘I can give you a vest and pair of shorts and they better both come back here, boy, otherwise said implications will be performed on your arse and I ain’t kidding. This stuff isn’t just for making the girls look pretty. You would be amazed what it can do with just a little change in the alloy.’ He pointed to a glistening heap. ‘It’s as light as a feather and doesn’t chafe, you know.’
‘And what else does it do?’
‘I’ll show you in a minute. Slip on a pair of the shorts.’
‘Wot, here?’ said Trev.
Somehow, Pepe looked like a small demon by the light of the forge. ‘Ooh, look at Mister Bashful!’ said Pepe. ‘Just pull a pair on over your trousers for now and I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll even turn my back while you’re doing that.’ He looked away, fiddling with the tools beside the anvil. ‘Got ’em on?’ he said, after listening to a few minutes of heavy breathing.
‘Yes, they, er, well, they feel all right.’
‘Okay,’ said Pepe. ‘Could you just wait ’ere one moment.’ He disappeared into the darkness and, after a succession of strange noises, walked back into view, slowly and awkwardly.
‘What’s that you’re wearin’, Pepe?’ said Trev. ‘It looks like a mass of cushions to me.’
‘Oh, just a bit of protection,’ said Pepe. ‘Now if you could just go back a little way, Mister Nutt, and Trev, if you could oblige me by putting your hands on your head, it just helps to get the measurements right.’ He turned his back on them. ‘Okay, Trevor, are your hands on your head?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
At which point, Pepe spun round and hit him full force in the groin with a twenty-four-pound sledgehammer . . .
Surprisingly, the only effect was to send Pepe crashing into the opposite wall. ‘Perfect!’ said his voice, muffled by the padding.
***
Morning came, but it seemed to Glenda that there was no night and no day, no work and no play, there was just football, ahead of them all, drawing them together. In the Great Hall the team had a table all to themselves. Servants and wizards side by side, filling up as only Unseen University could.
Football owned the day. Nothing was happening that wasn’t about football. There were certainly no lectures. Of course, there never were, but at least today they weren’t being attended because of the excitement about the upcoming match rather than not being attended because no one wanted to go to them. And after a while, Glenda became aware of the sound which was coming from the city itself.
There were crowds outside the university; there were crowds, even now, queuing to get into the Hippo. The sound of a hundred thousand people at one purpose rose like the buzz of a distant swarm.
Glenda went back to the sanctuary of the Night Kitchen and tried to pass some time by doing some baking, but the dough fell from her fingers.
‘Are you upset?’ said Juliet.
‘I hope we’re going to win,’ said Glenda.
‘Well, of course we’re going to win,’ said Juliet.
‘That’s all very well up until the time we lose,’ said Glenda. ‘Yes, who’s that?’
The door was pushed open and Pepe stepped in, looking smarter than usual. ‘Hello, ladies,’ he said. ‘Got a little message for you. How was you expecting to watch the match?’
‘Just so long as we can get close,’ said Glenda.
‘Tell you what, then,’ said Pepe. ‘Madame has got the best seats in the stadium. Nothing underhand, just open and above-board bribery. Shatta has got to be seen out and about, you see? Got to keep micromail in the public eye.’
‘I’d love to!’ Juliet shouted. And even Glenda found that her automatic, unthinking cynicism was letting her down.
‘There will be sherry,’ said Pepe.
‘Will there be anyone famous there?’ said Juliet.
Pepe walked over and prodded her gently in the chest and said, ‘Yes. You, miss. Everyone wants to see Jewels.’
It seemed as if the clocks turned backwards. All Watch leave had been suspended, but it was hard to see what crime there could be in streets where nobody could move. A flood of humanity, well, mostly humanity, poured towards the stadium, bounced off it and overflowed and backfilled more and more of the city. The game was in the Hippo, the crowd stretched back to Sator Square and eventually the pressure of so many eyeballs on the hands of so many clocks moved time forwards.
Only the team, and Trev, remained in the Great Hall, everyone else having left much earlier in a fruitless attempt at securing a seat. They milled around aimlessly prodding the ball to one another until Ponder, Nutt and the Archchancellor turned up.
‘Well, big day, lads!’ said Ridcully. ‘Looks like there’s going to be a nice day for it as well. They’re all over there waiting for us to give them a show. I want you to approach this in the best traditions of Unseen University spor
tsmanship, which is to cheat whenever you are unobserved, though I fear that the chance of anyone being unobserved today is remote. But in any case, I want you all to give it one hundred and ten per cent.’
‘Excuse me, Archchancellor,’ said Ponder Stibbons. ‘I understand the sense of what you are saying, but there is only one hundred per cent.’
‘Well, they could give it one hundred and ten per cent if they tried harder,’ said Ridcully.
‘Well, yes and no, sir. But, in fact, that would mean that you had just made the one hundred per cent bigger while it would still be one hundred per cent. Besides, there is only so fast a man can run, only so high a man can jump. I just wanted to make the point.’
‘Good point, well made,’ said Ridcully, dismissing it instantly. He looked around at the faces. ‘Ah, Mister Likely, I suppose there is nothing I can do that would get you on to the team? Dave Likely’s boy playing for Unseen Academicals would be a bit of a feather in our cap. And I see my colleague Professor Rincewind has humorously already put a white one in his.’
‘Well, sir, you know how I’m fixed,’ Trev mumbled.
‘Your old mum,’ said Ridcully, nodding understandingly.
‘I promised her,’ said Trev. ‘I know she’s passed away, but I’m certain that she still watches over me, sir.’
‘Well, that’s nice and does you credit. Is there anything else that can be said? Let me think. Oh yes, gentlemen – Mrs Whitlow, as is her wont on these occasions, has organized her maids to dress up in appropriate costume and cheer us on from the sidelines.’ His face was a blank mask as he continued. ‘Mrs Whitlow unaccountably takes an enthusiastic and uncharacteristically athletic part in these things. There will be high kicking, I am told, but if you are careful where you let your gaze fall, you should see nothing that will upset you too much.’
‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Rincewind. ‘Is it true that some of the men in Ankh-Morpork United are just a bunch of thugs from the Shove?’
‘That might be a bit harsh,’ Ridcully began.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ said Trev, ‘that is quite true. I would say about half of them are honest cloggers and the rest of them are bastards.’
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