Discworld 26 - The Thief of Time by Terry Pratchett Read Free Book Online Page B

fifth surprise.'
'Really? Let me know when you find it,' said Lu-Tze.
Lobsang Ludd thought about this as he trailed after the sweeper.
'The Garden of Five Surprises is a test,' he said, at last.
'Oh, yes. Nearly everything is.'
Lobsang nodded. It was like the Garden of the Four Elements. Every novice found the bronze
symbols of three of them - in the carp pond, under a rock, painted on a kite - but none of
Lobsang's classmates found Fire. There didn't appear to be a fire anywhere in the garden.
After a while Lobsang had reasoned thus: there were in fact five elements, as they had been
taught. Four made up the universe, and the fifth, Surprise, allowed it to keep on happening.
No one had said that the four in the garden were the material four, so the fourth element in
the Garden could be Surprise at the fact that Fire wasn't there. Besides, fire was not generally
found in a garden, and the other signs were, truly, in their element. So he'd gone down to the
bakeries and opened one of the ovens, and there, glowing red hot below the loaves, was Fire.
'Then... I expect that the fifth surprise is: there is no fifth surprise,' he said.
'Nice try, but no cylindrical smoking thing,' said Lu- Tze. 'And is it not written, “Oo, you are
so sharp you'll cut yourself one of these days”?'
'Um, I haven't read that in the sacred texts yet, Sweeper,' said Lobsang uncertainly.
'No, you wouldn't have,' said Lu-Tze.
They stepped out of the brittle sunlight into the deep cold of the temple, and walked on
through ancient halls and down stairways cut into the rock. The sound of distant chanting
followed them. Lu-Tze, who was not holy and therefore could think unholy thoughts,
occasionally wondered whether the chanting monks were chanting anything, or were just
going 'aahaaahahah'. You could never tell with all that echo.
     
 
  
He turned off the main passage and reached for the handles of a pair of large, red-lacquered
doors. Then he looked behind him. Lobsang had stopped dead, some yards away.
'Coming?'
'But not even dongs are allowed in there!' said Lobsang. 'You have to be a Third Djim ting at
least!'
'Yeah, right. It's a short-cut. Come on, it's draughty out here.' With extreme reluctance,
expecting at any moment the outraged scream of authority, Lobsang trailed after the sweeper.
And he was just a sweeper! One of the people who swept the floors and washed the clothes
and cleaned the privies! No one had ever mentioned it! Novices heard about Lu-Tze from
their very first day - how he'd gone into some of the most tangled knots of time and
unravelled them, how he'd constantly dodged the traffic on the crossroads of history, how he
could divert time with a word and used this to develop the most subtle arts of battle...
... and here was a skinny little man who was sort of generically ethnic, so that he looked as if
he could have come from anywhere, in a robe that had once been white before it fell to all
those stains and patches, and the sandals repaired with string. And the friendly grin, as if he
was constantly waiting for something amusing to happen. And no belt at all, just another
piece of string to hold his robe closed. Even some novices got to the level of grey dong in
their first year!
The dojo was busy with senior monks at practice. Lobsang had to dodge aside as a pair of
fighters whirled past, arms and legs blurring as each sought an opening, paring time into
thinner and thinner slivers-
'You! Sweeper!'
Lobsang looked round, but the shout had been directed at Lu-Tze. A ting, only just elevated
to the Third Djim by the fresh look of his belt, was advancing on the little man, his face red
with fury.
'What for are you coming in here, cleaner of filth? This is forbidden!'
Lu-Tze's little smile didn't change. But he reached in his robe and brought out a small bag.
' 's a short-cut,' he said. He pulled a pinch of tobacco and, while the ting loomed over him,
began to roll a cigarette. 'And