tp.lightfantastic-第2章

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ecall　that　the　Bumper　Fun　Grimoire　reputedly　contains　the　one　original　joke　left　in　the　universe。　But　they　are　all　mere　pamphlets　when　pared　with　the　Octavo；　which　the　Creator　of　the　Universe　reputedly　left　behind　…　with　characteristic　absent…mindedness　…　shortly　after　pleting　his　major　work。
　The　eight　spells　imprisoned　in　its　pages　led　a　secret　and　plex　life　of　their　own；　and　it　was　generally　believed　that　…
　Galder's　brow　furrowed　as　he　stared　into　the　troubled　room。　Of　course；　there　were　only　seven　spells　now。　Some　young　idiot　of　a　student　wizard　had　stolen　a　look　at　the　book　one　day　and　one　of　the　spells　had　escaped　and　lodged　in　his　mind。　No…one　had　ever　managed　to　get　to　the　bottom　of　how　it　had　happened。　What　was　his　name；　now？　Winswand？
　Octarine　and　purple　sparks　glittered　on　the　spine　of　the　book。　A　thin　curl　of　smoke　was　beginning　to　rise　from　the　lectern；　and　the　heavy　metal　clasps　that　held　the　book　shut　were　definitely　beginning　to　look　strained。
　'Why　are　the　spells　so　restless？'　said　one　of　the　younger　wizards。
　Galder　shrugged。　He　couldn't　show　it；　of　course；　but　he　was　beginning　to　be　really　worried。　As　a　skilled　eighth…level　wizard　he　could　see　the　half…imaginary　shapes　that　appeared　momentarily　in　the　vibrating　air；　wheedling　arid　beckoning。　In　much　the　same　way　that　gnats　appear　before　a　thunderstorm；　really　heavy　build…ups　of　magic　always　attracted　things　from　the　chaotic　Dungeon　Dimensions　…　nasty　Things；　all　misplaced　organs　and　spittle；　forever　searching　for　any　gap　through　which　they　might　sidle　into　the　world　of　men。　＇1＇
　This　had　to　be　stopped。
　'I　shall　need　a　volunteer；'　he　said　firmly。
　There　was　a　sudden　silence。　The　only　sound　came　from　behind　the　door。　It　was　the　nasty　little　noise　of　metal　parting　under　stress。
　'Very　well；　then；'　he　said。　'In　that　case　I　shall　need　some　silver　tweezers；　about　two　pints　of　cat's　blood；　a　small　whip　and　a　chair　…'
　It　is　said　that　the　opposite　of　noise　is　silence。　This　isn't　true。　Silence　is　only　the　absence　of　noise。　Silence　would　have　been　a　terrible　din　pared　to　the　sudden　soft　implosion　of　noiselessness　that　hit　the　wizards　with　the　force　of　an　exploding　dandelion　clock。
　A　thick　column　of　spitting　light　sprang　up　from　the　book；　hit　the　ceiling　in　a　splash　of　flame；　and　disappeared。
　Galder　stared　up　at　the　hole；　ignoring　the　smouldering　patches　in　his　beard。　He　pointed　dramatically。
　To　the　upper　cellars！'　he　cried；　and　bounded　up　the　stone　stairs。　Slippers　flapping　and　nightshirts　billowing　he　other　wizards　followed　him；　falling　over　one　another　in　their　eagerness　to　be　last。
　Nevertheless；　they　were　all　in　time　to　see　the　fireball　of　occult　potentiality　disappear　into　the　ceiling　of　the　room　above。
　'Urgh；'　said　the　youngest　wizard；　and　pointed　to　the　floor。
　The　room　had　been　part　of　the　library　until　the　magic　had　drifted　through；　violently　reassembling　the　possibility　particles　of　everything　in　its　path。　So　it　was　reasonable　to　assume　that　the　small　purple　newts　had　been　part　of　the　floor　and　the　pineapple　custard　may　once　have　been　some　books。　And　several　of　the　wizards　later　swore　that　the　small　sad　orang　outang　sitting　in　the　middle　of　it　all　looked　very　much　like　the　head　librarian。
　Galder　stared　upwards。　'To　the　kitchen！'　he　bellowed；　wading　through　the　custard　to　the　next　flight　of　stairs。
　No…one　ever　found　out　what　the　great　cast…iron　cooking　range　had　been　turned　into；　because　it　had　broken　down　a　wall　and　made　good　its　escape　before　the　dishevelled　party　of　wild…eyed　mages　burst　into　the　room。　The　vegetable　chef　was　found　much　later　hiding　in　the　soup　cauldron；　gibbering　unhelpful　things　like　The　knuckles！　The　horrible　knuckles！'
　The　last　wisps　of　magic；　now　somewhat　slowed；　were　disappearing　into　the　ceiling。
　'To　the　Great　Hall！'
　The　stairs　were　much　wider　here；　and　better　lit。　Panting　and　pineapple…flavoured；　the　fitter　wizards　got　to　the　top　by　the　time　the　fireball　had　reached　the　middle　of　the　huge　draughty　chamber　that　was　the　University's　main　hall。　It　hung　motionless；　except　for　the　occasional　small　prominence　that　arched　and　spluttered　across　its　surface。
　Wizards　smoke；　as　everyone　knows。　That　probably　explained　the　chorus　of　coffin　coughs　and　sawtooth　wheezes　that　erupted　behind　Galder　as　he　stood　appraising　the　situation　and　wondering　if　he　dare　look　for　somewhere　to　hide。　He　grabbed　a　frightened　student。
　'Get　me　seers；　farseers；　scryers　and　withinlookmen！'　he　barked。　'I　want　this　studied！'
　Something　was　taking　shape　inside　the　fireball。　Galder　shielded　his　eyes　and　peered　at　the　shape　forming　in　front　of　him。　There　was　no　mistaking　it。　It　was　the　universe。
　He　was　quite　sure　of　this；　because　he　had　a　model　of　it　in　his　study　and　it　was　generally　agreed　to　be　far　more　impressive　than　the　real　thing。　Faced　with　the　possibilities　offered　by　seed　pearls　and　silver　filigree；　the　Creator　had　been　at　a　plete　loss。
　But　the　tiny　universe　inside　the　fireball　was　uncannily　…　well；　real。　The　only　thing　missing　was　colour。　It　was　all　in　translucent　misty　white。
　There　was　Great　A'Tuin；　and　the　four　elephants；　and　the　Disc　itself。　From　this　angle　Galder　couldn't　see　the　surface　very　well；　but　he　knew　with　cold　certainty　that　it　would　be　absolutely　accurately　modelled。　He　could；　though；　just　make　out　a　miniature　replica　of　Cori　Celesti；　upon　whose　utter　peak　the　world's　quarrelsome　and　somewhat　bourgeois　gods　lived　in　a　palace　of　marble；　alabaster　and　uncut　moquette　three…piece　suites　they　had　chosen　to　call　Dunmanifestin。　It　was　always　a　considerable　annoyance　to　any　Disc　citizen　with　pretensions　to　culture　that　they　were　ruled　by　gods　whose　idea　of　an　uplifting　artistic　experience　was　a　musical　doorbell。
　The　little　embryo　universe　began　to　move　slowly；　tilting　。　。　。
　Galder　tried　to　shout；　but　his　voice　refused　to　e　out。
　Gently；　but　with　the　unstoppable　force　of　an　explosion；　the　shape　expanded。
　He　watched　in　horror；　and　then　in　astonishment；　as　it　passed　through　him　as　lightly　as　a　thought。　He　held　out　a　hand　and　watched　the　pale　ghosts　of　rock　strata　stream　through　his　fingers　in　busy　silence。
　Great　A'Tuin　had　already　sunk　peacefully　below　floor　level；　larger　than　a　house。
　The　wizards　behind　Galder　were　waist　deep　in　seas。　A　boat　smaller　than　a　thimble　caught　Galder's　eye　for　a　oment　before　the　rush　carried　it　through　the　walls　and　away。
　To　the　roof！'　he　managed；　pointing　a　shaking　finger　skywards。
　Those　wizards　with　enough　marbles　left　to　think　with　and　enough　breath　to　run　followed　him；　running　through　continents　that　sleeted　smoothly　through　the　solid　stone。
　

　It　was　a　still　night；　tinted　with　the　promise　of　dawn。　A　crescent　moon　was　just　setting。　Ankh…Morpork；　largest　city　in　the　lands　around　the　Circle　Sea；　slept。
　That　statement　is　not　really　true。
　On　the　one　hand；　those　parts　of　the　city　which　normally　concerned　themselves　with；　for　example；　selling　vegetables；　shoeing　horses；　carving　exquisite　small　jade　ornaments；　changing　money　and　making　tables；　on　the　whole；　slept。　Unless　they　had　insomnia。　Or　had　got　up　in　the　night。　as　it　might　be；　to　go　to　the　lavatory。　On　the　other　hand；　many　of　the　less　law…abiding　citizens　were　wide　awake　and；　for　instance；　climbing　through　windows　that　didn't；　t　belong　to　them；　slitting　throats；　mugging　one　another；　listening　to　loud　music　in　smoky　cellars　and　gener；erally　having　a　lot　more　fun。　But　most　of　the　animals　were　asleep；　except　for　the　rats。　And　the　bats；　too；　of　course。　As　far　as　the　insects　were　concerned　。　。　。
　The　point　is　that　descriptive　writing　is　very　rarely　entireliy　accurate　and　during　the　reign　of　Olaf　Quimby　II　is　Patrician　of　Ankh　some　legislation　was　passed　in　a　determined　attempt　to　put　a　stop　to　this　sort　of　thing　and　introduce　some　honesty　into　reporting。　Thus；　if　a　legend　said　of　a　notable　hero　that　'all　men　spoke　of　his　prowess'　any　bard　who　valued　his　life　would　add　hastily　'except　for　a　couple　of　people　in　his　home　village　who　thought　he　was　a　liar；　and　quite　a　lot　of　other　people　who　had　never　really　heard　of　him。'　Poetic　simile　was　strictly　limited　to　statements　like　'his　mighty　steed　was　as　fleet　as　the　wind　n　a　fairly　calm　day；　say　about　Force　Three；'　and　any　loose　talk　about　a