Night Watch - Terry Pratchett [114]
So, we thought we’d push on to Short Street and then we could nip down into Dimwell and up the other side of the river…
Are we going to get into trouble for this, Sarge?
You’re looking at me in a funny way, Sarge.
Sorry, Sarge.
Vimes, with an increasingly worried Fred Colon in front of him, and some of the other barricadeers standing around as if caught in an illicit game of Knocking On Doors And Running Away, thought about this. The men watched him carefully, in case of explosion. And it actually had a weird kind of logic, if you didn’t factor in considerations like “real life” and “common sense.”
They’d worked hard. It was easy enough to block a city street, heavens knew. You just nailed planks around a couple of wagons and piled it high with furniture and junk. That took care of the main streets, and with enough pushing you could move it forward.
As for the rest, it really hadn’t been that hard. There had been lots of small barricades in any case. The lads had simply joined them up. Without anyone really noticing, The People’s Republic of Treacle Mine Road now occupied almost a quarter of the city.
Vimes took a few deep breaths.
“Fred?” he said.
“Yes, Sarge?”
“Did I tell you to do this?”
“No, Sarge.”
“There’s too many alleys. There’s too many people, Fred.”
Colon brightened. “Ah, well, there’s more coppers too, Sarge. A lot of the lads found their way here. Good lads, too. And Sergeant Dickins, he knows about this stuff, he remembers the last time this happened, Sarge, so he asked every able-bodied man who knew how to use a weapon to muster up, Sarge. There’s a lot of ’em, Sarge! We got a army, Sarge!”
This is how the world collapses, thought Vimes. I was just a young fool, I didn’t see it like this. I thought Keel was leading the revolution. I wonder if that’s what he thought, too?
But I just wanted to keep a few streets safe. I just wanted to keep a handful of decent, silly people away from the dumb mobs and the mindless rebels and the idiot soldiery. I really, really hoped we could get away with it.
Maybe the monks were right. Changing history is like damming a river. It’ll find its way around.
He saw Sam beaming among the men. Hero worship, he thought. That sort of thing can turn you blind.
“Any trouble?” he said.
“Don’t think anyone’s worked out what’s happening here, Sarge. There’s been a lot happening around Dolly Sisters and over that way. Cavalry charges and what have you—hold on, here come some more.”
A watchman had signaled from the top of the barricade. Vimes heard the commotion on the other side of the pile.
“More people runnin’ away from Dolly Sisters, by the look of it,” said Colon. “What d’you want us to do, Sarge?”
Keep them out, thought Vimes. We don’t know who they are. We can’t let everyone in. Some of them will be trouble.
The trouble is, I know what’s going on out there. The city is a little slice of Hell, and there’s no real safety anywhere.
And I know what I’m going to decide, because I watch me decide it.
I don’t believe this. I’m standing over there now, a kid who’s still clean and pink and full of ideals, looking at me as if I’m some kind of hero. I don’t dare not to be. I’m going to make the stupid decision because I don’t want to look bad in front of myself. Try explaining that to anyone who hasn’t had a couple of drinks.
“All right, let them through,” he said. “But no weapons. Pass the word around.”
“Take weapons off people?” said Colon.
“Think about it, Fred. We don’t want Unmentionables in here, do we, or soldiers in disguise? A man’s got to be vouched for before he can carry arms. I ain’t going to be stabbed in the back and the front at the same time. Oh, and Fred…I don’t know if I can do this, and probably it won’t last, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re promoted to sergeant. Anyone who wants to argue about the extra stripe, tell ’em to argue with me.”
Fred Colon’s chest, already running to fat, swelled visibly.
“Right, Sarge. Er…does that mean I still take