The Last Hero - Terry Pratchett [8]
"Ah, got 'em," said Cohen. From a bag on his belt he produced a set of dentures, carved from the diamond teeth of trolls. He inserted them in his mouth, and gnashed them a few times. "That's better. What were you saying?"
"He's not a proper bard, boss."
Cohen shrugged. "He'll just have to learn fast, then. He's got to be better'n the ones back in the Empire. They don't have a clue about poems longer'n seventeen syllables. At least this one's from Ankh-Morpork. He must've heard about sagas."
"I said we should've stopped off at Whale Bay," said Truckle. "Icy wastes, freezing nights... good saga country."
"Yeah, if you like blubber." Cohen drew his sword from the snowdrift. "I reckon I'd better go and take the lad's mind off of flowers, then."
"It appears that things revolve around the Disc," said Leonard. "This is certainly the case with the sun and the moon. And also, if you recall... the Maria Pesto?"
"The ship they said went right under the Disc?" said Archchancellor Ridcully.
"Quite. Known to be blown over the Rim near the Bay of Mante during a dreadful storm, and seen by fishermen rising above the Rim near TinLing some days later, where it crashed down upon a reef. There was only one survivor, whose dying words were... rather strange."
"I remember," said Ridcully. "He said, "My God, it's full of elephants!""
"It is my view that with sufficient thrust and a lateral component a craft sent off the edge of the world would be swung underneath by the massive attraction and rise on the far side." said Leonard, "probably to a sufficient height to allow it to glide down to anywhere on the surface."
The wizards stared at the blackboard. Then, as one wizard, they turned to Ponder Stibbons, who was scribbling in his notebook.
"What was that about, Ponder?"
Ponder stared at his notes. Then he stared at Leonard. Then he stared at Ridcully.
"Er... yes. Possibly. Er... if you fall over the edge fast enough, the... world pulls you back... and you go on falling but it's all round the world."
"You're saying that by falling off the world we — and by we, I hasten to point out, I don't actually include myself — we can end up in the sky?" said the Dean.
"Um... yes. After all, the sun does the same thing every day..."
The Dean looked enraptured. "Amazing!" he said. "Then... you could get an army into the heart of enemy territory! No fortress would be safe! You could rain fire down on to —"
He caught the look in Leonard's eye.
"— on to bad people," he finished, lamely.
"That would not happen," said Leonard severely. "Ever!"
"Could the... thing you are planning land on Cori Celesti?" said Lord Vetinari.
"Oh, certainly there should be suitable snowfields up there," said Leonard. "If there are not, I feel sure I can devise some appropriate landing method. Happily, as you have pointed out, things in the air have a tendency to come down."
Ridcully was about to make an appropriate comment, but stopped himself. He knew Leonard's reputation. This was a man who could invent seven new things before breakfast, including two new ways with toast. This man had invented the ball-bearing, such an obvious device that no one had thought of it. That was the very centre of his genius — he invented things that anyone could have thought of, and men who can invent things that anyone could have thought of are very rare men.
This man was so absent-mindedly clever that he could paint pictures that didn't just follow you around the room but went home with you and did the washing-up.
Some people are confident because they are fools. Leonard had the look of someone who was confident because, so far, he'd never found a reason not to be. He would step off a high building in the happy state of mind of someone who intended to deal with the problem of the ground when it presented itself.
And might.
"What do you need from us?" said Ridcully.
"Well, the... thing cannot operate by magic. Magic will be unreliable near the Hub, I understand. But can you supply me with wind?"
"You have certainly chosen the right people," said Lord Vetinari. And it