Thief of Time - Terry Pratchett [48]
Handisides ran this up his mental flagpole and it did indeed send prayers to heaven. He began to smile.
“However,” said Lu-Tze, stepping closer and lowering his voice, “I’ll probably be around again soon, this place looks as though it could do with a good sweeping, and if I don’t find you boys pin-sharp and prodding buttock inside a week, you and me will have a…talk.”
The smile vanished.
“Yes, Sweeper.”
“You’ve got to test them all and see to those bearings…”
“Yes, Sweeper.”
“And someone clean up Mr. Shoblang.”
“Yes, Sweeper.”
“Fair play to you, then. Me and young Lobsang here will be going. You’ve done a lot for his education.”
He took the unresisting Lobsang by the hand and led him out of the hall, past the long lines of turning, humming Procrastinators. A pall of blue smoke still hung under the high ceiling.
“Truly it is written, ‘You could knock me down with a feather,’” he muttered, as they headed up the sloping passage. “You spotted that inversion before it happened. I’d have blown us into next week. At least.”
“Sorry, Sweeper.”
“Sorry? You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t know what you are, son. You’re too quick. You’re taking to this place like a duck to water. You don’t have to learn stuff that takes other people years to get the hang of. Old Shoblang, may he be reincarnated somewhere nice and warm, even he couldn’t balance the load down to a second. I mean, a second. Over a whole damn world!” He shuddered. “Here’s a tip. Don’t let it show. People can be funny about that sort of thing.”
“Yes, Sweeper.”
“And another thing,” said Lu-Tze, leading the way out into the light. “What was all that fuss just before the Procrastinators cut loose? You felt something?”
“I don’t know. I just felt…everything went wrong for a moment.”
“Ever happened before?”
“No-oo. It was a bit like what happened in the Mandala Hall.”
“Well, don’t talk about it to anyone else. Most of the high-ups these days probably don’t even know how the spinners work. No one cares about them anymore. No one notices something that works too well. Of course, in the old days you weren’t even allowed to become a monk until you’d spent six months in the hall, greasing, and cleaning, and fetching. And we were better for it! These days it’s all about learning obedience and cosmic harmony. Well, you learned that in the halls, in the old days. You learned if you didn’t jump out of the way when someone yelled ‘she’s dumping!,’ you got a couple of years where it hurt, and that there’s no harmony better than all the spinners turning sweetly.”
The passage rose into the main temple complex. People were still scurrying around as they headed for the Mandala Hall.
“You’re sure you can look at it again?” said Lu-Tze.
“Yes, Sweeper.”
“Okay. You know best.”
The balconies overlooking the hall were crowded with monks, but Lu-Tze worked his way forward by polite yet firm use of his broom. The senior monks were clustered at the edge.
Rinpo caught sight of him.
“Ah, Sweeper,” he said. “Some dust delayed you?”
“Spinners cut free and went overspeed,” muttered Lu-Tze.
“Yes, but you were summoned by the abbot,” said the acolyte reproachfully.
“Upon a time,” said Lu-Tze, “every man jack of us would have legged it down to the hall when the gongs went.”
“Yes, but—”
“BRRRRbrrrrbrrrr,” said the abbot, and Lobsang saw now that he was being carried in a sling on the acolyte’s back, with an embroidered pixie hood on his head to keep the chill off. “Lu-Tze always was very keen on the practical approach BRRRbrrr.” He blew milky suds into the acolyte’s ear. “I am glad matters have been resolved, Lu-Tze.”
The sweeper bowed, while the abbot started to beat the acolyte gently over the head with a wooden bear.
“History has repeated, Lu-Tze DumDumBBBRRRR…”
“Glass clock?” said Lu-Tze.
The senior monks gasped.
“How could you possibly know that?” said the chief acolyte. “We haven’t rerun the Mandala yet!”
“It is written, ‘I’ve got a feeling in my water,’” said Lu-Tze. “And that was the only other time