‘Seems to have a life of its own.’ Ponder dropped it on to the floor and trieda kick.

It flew.

Ponder Stibbons was the quintessential, all-time holder of theone-hundred-metre note from his auntie, which also asked for him to be excusedall sporting activities on account of his athlete’s ear, erratic stigmatism, agrumbling nose and a revolving spleen. By his own admission, he would ratherrun ten miles, leap a five-bar gate and climb a big hill than engage in anyathletic activity.

The ball sang to him. It sang gloing!

A few minutes later, he and Ridcully walked back to the Great Hall,occasionally bouncing the ball on the flagstones. There was something about thesound of gloing! that made you want to hear it again.

‘You know, Ponder, I think you’ve been doing it all wrong. There are morethings in Heaven and Disc than are dreamed of in our philosophies.’

‘I expect so, sir. I don’t have many things in my philosophies.’

‘It’s all about the ball,’ said Ridcully, slamming it down hard on theflagstones again and catching it. ‘Tomorrow, we’ll bring it here and see whathappens. You gave the ball a mighty kick, Mister Stibbons, and yet you are, byyour own admission, a wet and a weed.’

‘Yes, sir, and a wuss, and I am proud of the appellation. I’d better remindyou, Archchancellor, that the thing mustn’t spend too long outside theCabinet.’

Gloing!

‘But we could make a copy, couldn’t we?’ said Ridcully. ‘It’s only leatherstitched together, probably protecting a bladder of some sort. I bet any decentcraftsman could make another one for us.’

‘What, now?’

‘The lights never go off on the Street of Cunning Artificers.’

By now, they were back in the Great Hall and Ridcully looked around until hisgaze lighted on two figures pushing a trolley laden with candles. ‘You lads, tome!’ he shouted. They stopped pushing the trolley and walked over to him.‘Mister Stibbons here would like you to run an errand for him. It’s ofconsiderable importance. Who are you?’

‘Trevor Likely, guv.’

‘Nutt, Archchancellor.’

Ridcully’s eyes narrowed. ‘Yes… Nutt,’ he said, and thought about the spells inhis pocket. ‘The candle dribbler, yes? Well, you can make yourselves useful.Over to you, Mister Stibbons.’

Ponder Stibbons held out the ball. ‘Have you any idea what this is?’

Nutt took it out of his hands and bounced it on the tiles a couple of times.

Gloing! Gloing!

‘Yes. It appears to be a simple sphere, although technically I believe it tobe, in actual fact, a truncated icosahedron, made by stitching together anumber of pentagons and hexagons of tough leather, and stitching means holesand holes let the air leak… Ah, there is lacing just here, you see? There mustbe some internal bladder–animal, probably. A balloon, as it were, for lightnessand elasticity, encapsulated by leather, simple and elegant.’ He handed theball back to Ponder, who was open-mouthed.

‘Do you know everything, Mister Nutt?’ he said with the sarcasm of a bornpedagogue.

Nutt’s reply was concentrated and there was a lengthy pause before he said,‘I’m not sure about a lot of the detail, sir.’

Ponder heard a snigger behind him and felt himself redden. He’d been cheeked,by a dribbler, even if Nutt was the most incontinently erudite one he’d everencountered.

‘Do you know where a copy of this may be made?’ said Ridcully loudly.

‘I expect so,’ said Nutt. ‘I believe dwarf rubber will be our friend here.’

‘There’s plenty of dwarfs up at Old Cobblers who could knock one up, guv,’ saidTrev. ‘They’re good at this sort of thing, but they’d want paying, they alwayswant paying. Nuffin’s on credit when you’re dealing with a dwarf.’

‘Give these young gentlemen twenty-five dollars, Mister Stibbons, will you?’

‘That’s a lot of money, Archchancellor.’

‘Yes, well, dwarfs, while the salt of the earth, don’t have much of a grasp ofsmall numbers and I want this in a hurry. I’m sure I can trust Mister Likelyand Mister Nutt with the money, can’t I?’ He said it jovially, but there was anedge to his voice. Trev, at least, got the message very quickly; a wizard couldtrust you because of the hellish future he could unleash on you if his trustwas betrayed.

‘You can certainly trust us, guv.’

‘Yes, I thought I could,’ said Ridcully.

When they had gone, Ponder Stibbons said, ‘You’re entrusting them withtwenty-five dollars?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ said Ridcully cheerfully. ‘It will be interesting to see theoutcome.’

‘Nevertheless, sir, I have to say that it was an unwise move.’

‘Thank you for your input, Mister Stibbons, but may I gently remind you who isthe guv around here?’

Glenda and Juliet took a trolley bus home, another huge extravagance but, ofcourse, Glenda was carrying more money than she had ever seen at one go. Shehad stuffed the notes into her bodice, à la Madame, and it seemed to generate aheat of its own. You were safe on a troll. Anyone wanting to mug a troll wouldhave to use a building on a stick.

Juliet was quiet. This puzzled Glenda; she had expected her to bubble like afountain full of soap flakes. The silence was unnerving.

‘Look. I know it was a lot of fun,’ Glenda said, ‘but showing off clothes isn’tlike a real job, is it?’ No. Real jobs pay a lot less, she thought.

Where had that come from? Jools hadn’t opened her mouth and the troll was stillcovered in mountain lichen and had a single-syllable vocabulary. It came fromme, she thought. This is about dreams, isn’t it? She is a dream. I dare say themicromail is good stuff, but she made it sparkle. And what can I say? You helpin the kitchen. You are useful and helpful, at least when you’re notdaydreaming, but you don’t know how to keep accounts or plan a weekly menu.What would you do without me? How would you get on away from here, in foreignparts where folks are so odd?

‘I’ll have to open a bank account for you,’ she said aloud. ‘It’ll be ourlittle secret, all right? It’ll be a nice little nest egg for you.’

‘And if Dad don’t know I’ve got the money he won’t get it off me and piss itagainst the wall,’ said Juliet, glancing up at the solemn, impassive face ofthe troll. If Glenda had known how to say ‘Pas devant le troll’ she would havedone so. But it was true: Mr Stollop commanded that all family earnings werepooled, with him holding the pool, which was then pooled with his friends inthe bar of the Turkey & Vegetables, and ultimately pooled again in the reekingalley behind it.

She settled for: ‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that.’

Gloing! Gloing!

The new ball was magic, that’s what it was. It bounced back to Trev’s waitinghand as if by its own free will. For two pins he’d risk kicking it, but he andNutt and the ball were already picking up a trail of curious street urchinssuch that he would be guaranteed never to see it again.

‘Are you really sure you know ’ow it works?’ he said to Nutt.

‘Oh, yes, Mister Trev. It’s a lot simpler than it looks, although thepolyhedrons will need some work, but overall—’

A hand landed on Trev’s shoulder. ‘Well, now. Trev Likely,’ said Andy. ‘And hislittle pet, harder to kill than a cockroach, by all accounts. Something’s goingon, ain’t it, Trev? And you’re going to tell me what it is. Here, what’s thatyou’re holding?’

‘Not today, Andy,’ said Trev, backing away. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t end up inthe Tanty with Mister One Drop measurin’ you up for a hemp collar.’

‘Me?’ said Andy innocently. ‘I didn’t do a thing! Can’t blame me for what athicko Stollop does, but something is going on with the football, ain’t it?Vetinari wants to muck it about.’

‘Just leave it alone, will you?’ said Trev.

There was more than the usual gang behind Andy. The Stollop brothers hadsensibly spared the streets their presence lately, but people like Andy couldalways find followers. Like they said, it was better to be beside Andy than infront of him. And with Andy you never knew just when he was—