Thief of Time - Terry Pratchett [113]
“Anthropomorphic personification,” said Ronnie Soak. “But I’ve always preferred the term ‘avatar.’”
Lu-Tze’s brow wrinkled.
“You fly around a lot?” he said.
“That would be aviator.”
“Sorry. Well, supposing an avatar, thank you, who was perhaps a bit ahead of his time thousands of years ago, well, supposing he took a good look around now, he might just find the world is ready for him again.”
Lu-Tze waited.
“My abbot, now, he reckons you are the bee’s knees,” he said for a little reinforcement.
“Does he?” said Ronnie Soak suspiciously.
“Bee’s knees, cat’s pajamas, and dog’s…elbows,” Lu-Tze finished. “He’s written scrolls and scrolls about you. Says you are hugely important in understanding how the universe works.”
“Yeah, but…he’s just one man,” said Ronnie Soak, with all the sullenness and reluctance of someone cuddling a lifetime’s huge snit like a favorite soft toy.
“Technically, yes,” said Lu-Tze. “But he’s an abbot. And brainy? He thinks such big thoughts he needs a second lifetime just to finish them off! Let a lot of peasants fear famine, I say, but someone like you should aim for quality. And you look at the cities, now. Back in the old days there were just heaps of mud bricks with names like Ur and Uh and Ugg. These days there’s millions of people living in cities. Very, very complicated cities. Just you think about what they really, really fear. And fear…well, fear is belief. Hmm?”
There was another long pause.
“Well, alright, but…” Ronnie began.
“Of course, they won’t be living in ’em very long, because by the time the gray people have finished taking them to pieces to see how they work there won’t be any belief left.”
“My customers do depend on me…” Ronnie Soak mumbled.
“What customers? That’s Soak speaking,” said Lu-Tze. “That’s not the voice of Kaos.”
“Hah!” said Kaos bitterly. “You haven’t told me yet how you worked that one out.”
Because I’ve got more than three brain cells, and you’re vain, and you painted your actual name back to front on your cart whether you knew it or not, and a dark window is a mirror, and K and S are still recognizable in a reflection even when they’re back to front, thought Lu-Tze. But that wasn’t a good way forward.
“It was just obvious,” he said. “You sort of shine through. It’s like putting a sheet over an elephant. You might not be able to see it, but you’re sure the elephant’s still there.”
Kaos looked wretched.
“I don’t know,” he said, “it’s been a long time—”
“Oh? And I thought you said you were Number One?” said Lu-Tze, deciding on a new approach. “Sorry! Still, I suppose it’s not your fault you’ve lost a few skills over the centuries, what with one thing and—”
“Lost skills?” snapped Kaos, waving a finger under the sweeper’s nose. “I could certainly take you to the cleaners, you little maggot!”
“What with, a dangerous yogurt?” said Lu-Tze, climbing off the cart. Kaos leaped down after him.
“Where do you get off, talking to me like that?” he demanded.
Lu-Tze glanced up.
“Corner of Merchant and Broad Way,” he said. “So what?”
Kaos roared. He tore off his striped apron and his white cap. He seemed to grow in size. Darkness evaporated off him like smoke.
Lu-Tze folded his hands and grinned.
“Remember Rule One,” he said.
“Rules? Rules?! I’m Kaos!”
“Who was the first?” said Lu-Tze.
“Yes!”
“Creator and Destroyer?”
“Right!”
“Apparently complicated, apparently patternless behavior that nevertheless has a simple, deterministic explanation and is a key to new levels of understanding of the multidimensional universe?”
“You’d better believe it—what?”
“Got to move with the times, mister, got to keep up!” shouted Lu-Tze excitedly, hopping from foot to foot. “You’re what people think you are! And they’ve changed you! I hope you’re good at sums!”
“You can’t tell me what to be!” Kaos roared. “I’m Kaos!”
“You don’t think so? Well, your big comeback ain’t gonna happen now that the Auditors have taken over! The rules, mister! That’s what they are! They’re the cold, dead rules!”
Silver lightning flickered in the walking cloud that