The Fifth Elephant by Terry Pratchett Page B

modern than simply opening the door and shouting, which is what Mr. Vimes did.
    Carrot gave Fred Colon a bright smile.
    “Ah, Fred. Everything going well?”
    “Yessir?” said Fred Colon, uncertainly.
    “Good. I am off to see the Patrician, Fred. As senior sergeant you are in charge of the Watch until Mister Vimes gets back.”
    “Yessir. Er…until you get back, you mean…”
    “I shall not be coming back, Fred. I am resigning.”

    The Patrician looked at the badge on the desk.
    “…and well-trained men,” Carrot was saying, somewhere in front of him. “After all, a few years ago there were only four of us in the Watch. Now it’s functioning just like a machine.”
    “Yes, although bits of it do go boing occasionally,” said Lord Vetinari, still staring at the badge. “Could I invite you to reconsider, Captain?”
    “I’ve reconsidered several times, sir. And it’s not Captain, sir.”
    “The Watch needs you, Mister Ironfoundersson.”
    “The Watch is bigger than one man, sir,” said Carrot, still looking straight ahead.
    “I’m not sure if it’s bigger than Sergeant Colon, though.”
    “People get mistaken about old Fred, sir. He’s a man with a solid bottom to his character.”
    “He’s got a solid bottom to his bottom, Ca—Mister Ironfoundersson.”
    “I mean he doesn’t flap in an emergency, sir.”
    “He doesn’t do anything in an emergency,” said the Patrician. “Except possibly hide. I might go so far as to say that the man appears to consist of an emergency in his own right.”
    “My mind is made up, sir.”
    Lord Vetinari sighed, sat back, and stared up the ceiling for a moment.
    “Then all I can do is thank you for your services, Captain , and wish you good luck in your future endeavor. Do you have enough money?”
    “I’ve saved quite a lot, sir.”
    “Nevertheless, it is a long way to Uberwald.”
    There was silence.
    “Sir?”
    “Yes?”
    “How did you know ?”
    “Oh, people measured it years ago. Surveyors and so forth.”
    “Sir!”
    Vetinari sighed. “I think the term is…deduction. Be that as it may…Captain, I am choosing to believe that you are merely taking an extended leave of absence. I understand that you’ve never taken a holiday while you have been here. I am sure you are owed a few weeks.”
    Carrot said nothing.
    “And if I were you, I’d begin my search for Sergeant Angua at the Shambling Gate,” Vetinari added.
    After a while, Carrot said quietly: “Is that as a result of information received, my lord?”
    Vetinari smiled a thin little smile. “No. But Uberwald is going through some troubling times, and of course she is from one of the aristocratic families. I surmise that she has been called away. Beyond that, I cannot be of much help. You will have to follow, as they say, your nose.”
    “No, I think I can find a much more reliable nose than mine,” said Carrot.
    “Good.” Lord Vetinari went back to his desk and sat down. “I wish you well in your…search. Nevertheless, I’m sure we will be seeing you again. A lot of people here…depend on you.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Good day to you.”
    When Carrot had gone Lord Vetinari got up and walked across to the other side of the room, where a map of Uberwald was unrolled on a table. It was quite old, but in recent years any mapmakers who had wandered off the beaten track in that country had spent all their time trying to find it again. There were a few rivers, their courses mostly guesswork, and the occasional town or at least the name of a town, probably put in to save the cartographer the embarrassment of filling his chart with, as they said in the trade, MMBU . *
    The door opened and Vetinari’s head clerk, Drumknott, eased his way in with the silence of a feather falling in a cathedral.
    “A somewhat unexpected development, my lord,” he said quietly.
    “An uncharacteristic one, certainly,” said Vetinari.
    “Do you wish me to send a clacks to Vimes, sir? He could be back in a