The Last Hero - Terry Pratchett [42]
Ponder scanned the pages, covered in Leonard's backwards writing. "Er... er..." he muttered.
"Do not pull the lever marked 'Troba'!" snapped Lord Vetinari, leaning forward.
"My lord!" said Ponder, and went red as Lord Vetinari's gaze fell upon him. "I'm sorry, my lord, but this is rather technical, it is about machinery, and it would perhaps be better if those whose education had been more in the field of the arts did not..."
His voice faded under the Patrician's stare.
"This one's got a normal label! It's called 'Prince Haran's Tiller'!" said a desperate voice from the omniscope.
Lord Vetinari patted Ponder Stibbons on the shoulder.
"I quite understand," he said. "The last thing a trained machinery person wants at a time like this is well-meant advice from ignorant people. I do apologise. And what is it that you intend to do?"
"Well, I, er, I..."
"As the Kite and all our hopes plunge towards the ground, I mean," Lord Vetinari went on.
"I, er, I, let's see, we've tried..."
Ponder stared at the omniscope, and at his notes. His mind had become a huge, white, sticky field of hot fluff.
"I imagine we have at least a minute left," said Lord Vetinari. "No rush."
"I, er, perhaps we, er..."
The Patrician leaned down towards the omniscope. "Rincewind, pull Prince Haran's Tiller," he said.
"We don't know what it does —" Ponder began.
"Do tell me if you have a better idea," said Lord Vetinari. "In the meantime, I suggest that the lever is pulled."
On the Kite, Rincewind decided to respond to the voice of authority.
"Er... there's a lot of clicking and whirring..." he reported. "And... some of the levers are moving by themselves... now the wings are unfolding... we're sort of flying in a straight line, at least... quite gently, really..."
"Good. I suggest you apply yourself to waking up Leonard," said the Patrician. He turned and nodded at Ponder. "You yourself have not studied the classics, young man? I know Leonard has."
"Well... no, sir."
"Prince Haran was a legendary Klatchian hero who sailed around the world on a ship with a magical tiller," said Lord Vetinari. "It steered the ship while he slept. If I can be of any further help, don't hesitate to ask."
Evil Harry stood frozen with terror as Cohen advanced across the snow, hand raised.
"You tipped off the gods, Harry," said Cohen.
"We all heard yez," said Mad Hamish.
"But it's okay," Cohen added. "Makes it more interestin'." His hand came down and slapped the small man on the back.
"We thought: That Evil Harry, he may be dumber'n a thick brick, but betrayin' us at a time like this... well, that's what we call nerve," said Cohen. "I've known a few Evil Dark Lords in my time, Harry, but I'd def'nit'ly give you three great big goblins' heads for style. You might have never made it into the, you know, big Dark Lord league, but you've got... well, Harry, you've definitely got the Wrong Stuff."
"We likes a man who sticks to his siege catapults," said Boy Willie.
Evil Harry looked down and shuffled his feet, his face a battle between pride and relief.
"Good of you to say that, lads," he mumbled. "I mean, you know, if it was up to me I wouldn't do this to yer, but I got a reputation to —"
"I said we understand," said Cohen. "It's just like with us. You see a big hairy thing galloping towards you, you don't stop to think: Is this a rare species on the point of extinction? No, you hack its head off. 'Cos that's heroing, am I right? An' you see someone, you betray 'em, quick as wink, 'cos that's villaining."
There was a murmur of approval from the rest of the Horde. In a strange way, this too was part of the Code.
"You're letting him go?" said the minstrel.
"Of course. You haven't been paying attention, lad. The Dark Lord always gets away. But you'd better put in the song that he betrayed us. That'll look good."
"And... er... you wouldn't mind saying I fiendishly tried to cut your throats?" said Harry.
"All right," said Cohen loftily. "Put in that he fought like a black-hearted tiger."
Harry wiped a tear from his eye. "Thanks,