Чудакулли и декан

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Ridcully felt rather alone. He'd quite enjoyed talking to the girl. She seemed to be the only person in the place who wasn't mildly insane or totally preoccupied with something that he, Ridcully, didn't understand.

He wandered back to his study, but was distracted by the sounds of hammering coming from the Dean's chambers. The door was ajar.

The senior wizards had quite large suites that included study, workshop and bedroom. The Dean was hunched over the furnace in the workshop area, with a smoked glass mask over his face and a hammer in his hand. He was hard at work.

There were sparks.

This was much more cheering, Ridcully thought. Maybe this was an end to all this Music With Rocks In nonsense and a return to some real magic.

'Everythin' all right, Dean?' he said.

The Dean pushed up the glass and nodded.

'Nearly finished, Archchancellor,' he said.

'Heard you bangin' away right down the passage,' said Ridcully, conversationally.

'Ah. I'm working on the pockets,' said the Dean.

Ridcully looked blank. Quite a number of the more difficult spells involved heat and hammering, but pockets was a new one.

The Dean held up a pair of trousers.

They were not, strictly speaking, as trousery as normal trousers; senior wizards developed a distinctive 50" waist, 25" leg shape that suggested someone who sat on a wall and required royal assistance to be put together again. They were dark blue.

'You were hammerin' them?' said Ridcully. 'Mrs Whitlow been heavy on the starch again?'

He looked closer.

'You're rivetin' them together?'

The Dean beamed.

'These trousers,' he said, 'are where it's at.'

'Are you talkin' Music With Rocks In again?' said Ridcully suspiciously.

'I mean they're cool.'

'Well, better than a thick robe in this weather,' Ridcully conceded, butyou're not going to put them on now, are you?'

'Why not?' said the Dean, struggling out of his robe.

'Wizards in trousers? Not in my university! It's cissy. People'd laugh,' said Ridcully.

'You always try and stop me doing anything I want!'

'There's no need to take that tone with me-'

'Huh, you never listen to anything I say and I don't see why I shouldn't wear what I like!'

Ridcully glared around the room.

'This room is a total mess!' he bellowed. 'Tidy it up right now!'

'Sharn't!'

'Then it's no more Music With Rocks In for you, young man!'

Ridcully slammed the door behind him.

He slammed it open again and added, 'And I never gave you permission to paint it black!'

He slammed the door shut.

He slammed it open.

'They don't suit you, either!'

The Dean rushed out into the passage, waving his hammer.

'Say what you like,' he shouted, 'when history comes to name these, they certainly won't call them Archchancellors!'


Сьюзен Смерть

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Susan spun around, scythe ready to swing. But the music was in the air. It had no soul to aim for.

You could say to the universe, this is not fair. And the universe would say: Oh, isn't it? Sorry.

You could save people. You could get there in the nick of time. And something could snap its fingers and say, no, it has to be this way. Let me tell you how it has to be. This is how the legend has to go.

She reached out and tried to take Buddy's hand. She could feel it, but only as a coldness.

'Can you hear me?' she shouted, above the triumphant chords.

He nodded.

'It's ... it's like a legend! It has to happen! And I can't stop it - how can I kill something like music?'

She ran to the edge of the gorge. The cart was well on fire. They wouldn't appear in it. They would have been in it.

'I can't stop it! It's not fair!'

She pounded at the air with her fists.

'Grandfather!'

Интересно, почему Пратчетт выставил Чудакулли разгневанным отцом, а декана и остальных преподавателей бунтующими детьми? Может, потому что Чудакулли никогда не понимал того, чего он не хотел понимать, а декан и в Dark Reaper орал Йо! и завязывал шнурок на голове. Но что тогда за фигня с Тупсом? Ему всего 24, а его и остальных студентов не вставило. Они слишком nerds для Soul Music?

Можно сказать вселенной: "Это нечестно". И услышать в ответ: "Правда? Что ж, извини". Сьюзен сказала: "Я не могу ничего сделать. Так нечестно!" и замолотила по воздуху кулаками. "Дедушка!" Конечно, нафиг нам вселенная, мы позовем дедушку, который придет и, словами Наверна Чудакулли, надраит обидчику задницу. Даже если он Смерть.