Night Watch полностью

“And a suit of ornamental armour landed in the High Energy Magic building,” Ridcully went on, “and, I am happy to report, it is—”

“Very badly bent out of shape?” said Vimes. Ridcully hesitated. He was aware of Vimes's feelings of gilt.

“Excessively, your grace. Completely bent out of shape because of quantum thingummies, I suspect,” he said.

Vimes shivered. He was still naked. Even the hated formal uniform would have helped up here. But it didn't matter either way, now. Gilt and feathers and badges and feeling chilly…there were other things that mattered more, and always would.

He jumped off the stick before it had stopped, stumbled in a circle and fell against Dr Lawn's door, hammering on it with his fists.

After a while it opened a crack and a familiar voice, changed only a little with age, said “Yes?”

Vimes thrust the door fully open. “Look at me, Doctor Lawn,” he said.

Lawn stared. “Keel?” he said. In his other hand he was holding the world's biggest syringe.

“Can't be. They buried John Keel. You know they did,” said Vimes. He saw the huge instrument in the man's hand. “What the hell were you going to do with that?”

“Baste a turkey, as a matter of fact. Look, who are you, then, because you look like—”

“Grab all your midwifing stuff and come with me now,” said Vimes. “All those funny tools you said worked so well. Bring 'em all. Right now. And I'll make you the richest doctor that ever lived,” said Vimes, a man wearing nothing but mud and blood.

Lawn gestured weakly towards the kitchen. “I'll just have to take the turkey out—”

“Stuff the turkey!”

“I already—”

“Come on!”

The broomstick did not fly well with three on board, but it was faster than walking and Vimes at this point knew he'd be incapable of anything else. He was out of breath and strength by the time he got home the first time. Now merely standing upright was a test of endurance. It was the broomstick or crawling.

It lumbered down out of the sky and landed unsteadily on the lawn.

“Lady upstairs, big bedroom on left,” said Vimes, pushing vaguely at the doctor. “Midwife there, not got a clue. All the money you want. Go on.”

Lawn hurried off. Vimes, helped by Ridcully, followed rather more stiffly, but as they reached the door the doctor came out walking backwards very slowly. It became apparent, as he emerged, that this was because Detritus's huge crossbow was pressed against his nose.

When Vimes spoke his voice was slightly muffled, because he was lying flat on the ground.

“Put the bow down, sergeant,” he managed.

“He come rushin' in, Mister Vimes,” rumbled Detritus.

“That's because he's the doctor, sergeant. Let him go upstairs. That is an order, thank you.”

“Right, Mister Vimes,” said Detritus, stepping aside with reluctance and shouldering the bow. At which point, the bow discharged.

When the thunder had died away Vimes got up and looked around. He hadn't actually liked the shrubbery very much. That was just as well. Nothing remained but some tree trunks, and they were all stripped of bark down one side. There were a few small fires.

“Er, sorry about that, Mister Vimes,” said the troll.

“What did I tell you about Mister Safety Catch?” said Vimes weakly.

“When Mister Safety Catch Is Not On, Mister Crossbow Is Not Your Friend,” recited Detritus, saluting. “Sorry, sir, but we all a bit tense at dis time.”

“I certainly am,” said Ridcully, picking himself off the lawn and pulling twigs out of his beard. “I may not walk properly for the rest of the day. I suggest, sergeant, that we pick the doctor up, bring him round under the pump, and take him upstairs—”

The things that happened next were a waking dream for Vimes. He moved like a ghost through his own house, which was full of watchmen. No one wanted to be anywhere else.

He shaved himself very slowly, concentrating on every stroke. He was aware of noises off, which arrived via the pink clouds in his head.

“—he says he wants them boiled, the nasty horrid things! What's that for, to make them softer?”

“—trolls and dwarfs on tonight, every door and window covered and I mean covered–”

“—stood over me and said damn well boil them for twenty minutes! Like they were cabbage–”

“—now he's asked for a small brandy–”

“—Mrs Content stormed out and he said not to let her in again–”

“—Igor came and offered to help and Lawn took one look and said only if he's been boiled for twenty minutes–”

“—pox doctor, when all's said and done–”

“—old Stoneface'll cover him with gold if it all turns out right–”