Going Postal - Terry Pratchett [74]
“Who’s he?” said Moist.
“I’m amazed. He’s at the university. He wrote a whole chapter on this place in his book on…oh, something to do with big masses of writing thinking for themselves. I suppose you do know about the people who died?”
“Oh, yes.”
“He said the place drove them mad in some way. Well, actually, we said that. What he said was a lot more complicated. I have to hand it to you, Mr. Lipwig, taking on a job that has killed four men before you. It takes a special kind of man to do that.”
Yes, thought Moist. An ignorant one.
“You haven’t noticed anything strange yourself?” Miss Cripslock went on.
“Well, I think my body traveled in time but the soles of my feet didn’t, but I’m not sure how much of it was hallucination; I was nearly killed in a mailslide; and the letters keep talking to me,” were the words that Moist didn’t say, because it’s the kind of thing you don’t say to an open notebook. What he did say was “Oh, no. It’s a fine old building, and I fully intend to bring it back to its former glory.”
“Good. How old are you, Mr. Moist?”
“Twenty-six. Is that important?”
“We like to be thorough.” Miss Cripslock gave him a sweet smile. “Besides, it’s important if we have to write your obituary.”
MOIST MARCHED through the hall, with Groat sidling after him.
He pulled the new letters out of his pocket and thrust them into Groat’s crabby hands. “Get these delivered. Anything addressed to a god goes to his or her or its temple. Any other strange ones, put on my desk.”
“We picked up another fifteen just now, sir. People think it’s funny!”
“Got the money?”
“Oh, yes, sir.”
“Then we’re the ones who’re laughing,” said Moist firmly. “I won’t be long. I’m off to see the wizard.”
BY LAW AND TRADITION, the great Library of Unseen University is open to the public, although they aren’t allowed as far as the magical shelves. They don’t realize this, however, since the rules of time and space are twisted inside the library, and so hundreds of miles of shelving can easily be concealed inside a space roughly the thickness of paint.
People flock in, nevertheless, in search of answers to those questions only librarians are considered to be able to answer, such as “Is this the laundry?” “How do you spell surreptitious?” and, on a regular basis, “Do you have a book I remember reading once? It had a red cover and it turned out they were twins.”
And, strictly speaking, the library will have it…somewhere. Somewhere it has every book ever written, that ever will be written, and, notably, every book that is possible to write. These are not on the public shelves lest untrained handling cause the collapse of everything that it is possible to imagine.*
Like everyone else who entered the library, Moist stared up at the dome. Everyone did. They always wondered why a library that was technically infinite in size was covered by a dome a few hundred feet across, and they were allowed to go on wondering.
Just below the dome, staring down from their niches, were statues of the Virtues: Patience, Chastity, Silence, Charity, Hope, Tubso, Bissonomy,* and Fortitude.
Moist couldn’t resist removing his hat and giving a little salute to Hope, to whom he owed so much. Then, as he wondered why the statue of Bissonomy was carrying a kettle and what looked like a bunch of parsnips, he collided with someone who grabbed him by the arm and hurried him across the floor.
“Don’t say a word, don’t say a word, but you are looking for a book, yes?”
“Well, actually—” He seemed to be in the clutches of a wizard.
“—you are not sure what book!” said the wizard. “Exactly. It is the job of a librarian to find the right book for the right person. If you would just sit here, we can proceed. Thank you. Please excuse the straps. This will not take long. It is practically painless.”
“Practically?”
Moist was pushed, firmly, into a large and complex swivel chair. His captor, or helper, or whatever he might turn out to be, gave him a reassuring smile. Other, shadowy figures helped him strap Moist into the chair, which, while basically an old, horseshoe-shaped