The Thief of Time by Terry Pratchett

Author:Terry Pratchett [Pratchett, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2001-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Timelessness grew like ice. Waves froze on the sea. Birds were pinned to the air. The world went still.

But not quiet. There was a sound like a finger running around the rim of a very large glass.

‘Come on,’ said Susan.

‘Can’t you hear it?’ said Lobsang, stopping.

‘But it’s no use to us—’

She pushed Lobsang back into the shadows. The robed grey shape of an Auditor appeared in the air halfway down the street, and began to spin. The air around it filled with dust, which became a whirling cylinder, which became, slightly unsteady on its feet, something that looked human.

It rocked backwards and forwards for a moment. It raised its hands slowly and looked at them, turning them this way and that. Then it marched away, purposefully. Further along the street it was joined by another one, emerging from an alley.

‘This really isn’t like them,’ said Susan, as the pair turned a corner. ‘They’re up to something. Let’s follow them.’

‘What about Lu-Tze?’

‘What about him? How old did you say he was?’

‘He says he’s eight hundred years old.’

‘Hard to kill, then. Ronnie’s safe enough if you’re alert and don’t argue. Come on.’

She set off along the streets.

The Auditors were joined by others, weaving between the silent carts and motionless people and along the street towards, as it turned out, Sator Square, one of the biggest open spaces in the city. It was market day. Silent, motionless figures thronged the stalls. But, amongst them, there were scurrying grey shapes.

‘There’s hundreds of them,’ said Susan. ‘All human-shaped, and it looks like they’re having a meeting.’

Mr White was losing patience. Until now he had never been aware that he had any, because if anything he had been all patience. But now he could feel it evaporating. It was a strange, hot sensation in his head. And how could a thought be hot?

The mass of incarnated Auditors watched him nervously.

‘I am Mr White!’ he said, to the luckless new Auditor that had been brought before him, and shuddered with the astonishment of using that singular word and surviving. ‘You cannot be Mr White also. It would be a matter of confusion.’

‘But we are running out of colours,’ said Mr Violet, intervening.

‘That cannot be the case,’ said Mr White. ‘There is an infinite number of colours.’

‘But there are not that many names,’ said Miss Taupe.

‘That is not possible. A colour must have a name.’

‘We can find only one hundred and three names for green before the colour becomes noticeably either blue or yellow,’ said Miss Crimson.

‘But the shades are endless!’

‘Nevertheless, the names are not.’

‘This is a problem that must be solved. Add it to the list, Miss Brown. We must name every possible shade.’

One of the female Auditors looked startled. ‘I cannot remember all the things,’ she said. ‘Nor do I understand why you are giving orders.’

‘Apart from the renegade, I have the greatest seniority as an incarnate.’

‘Only by a matter of seconds,’ said Miss Brown.

‘That is immaterial. Seniority is seniority. This is a fact.’

It was a fact.

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