The Science of Discworld Revised Edition by Terry Pratchett Page B

imagine we have a better idea than the average god with a dog’s head and nineteen arms, certainly,’ said Ridcully. ‘But this is pretty second-rate material. It just wants to spin all the time. What do you expect us to do, bang on the side and shout “Come on, you lot, stop messing about with stupid gases, they’ll never amount to anything”?’
    They compromised, and selected a small area for experimentation. They were, after all, wizards. That meant that if they saw something, they prodded it. If it wobbled, they prodded it some more. If you built a guillotine, and then put a sign on it saying ‘Do Not Put Your Neck On This Block’, many wizards would never have to buy a hat again.
    Moving the matter was simple. As Ponder said, it almost moved under the pressure of thought.
    And spinning it into a disc was easy. The new matter liked to spin. But it was also far too sociable.
    ‘You see?’ said Ridcully, around mid-morning. ‘It seems to get the idea, and then you just end up with a ball of rubbish.’
    ‘Which gets hot in the middle, have you noticed?’ said Ponder.
    ‘Embarrassment, probably,’ said the Archchancellor. ‘We’ve lost half the elements since elevenses. There’s no more cohenium, explodium went ten minutes ago, and I’m beginning to suspect that the detonium is falling to bits. Temporarium didn’t last for any time at all.’
    ‘Any Runium?’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
    H EX wrote: +++ Runium May Or May Not Still Exist. It Was Down To One Atom Ten Minutes Ago, Which I Do Not Seem to Be Able To Find Any More +++
    ‘How’s Wranglium doing?’ said the Senior Wrangler hopefully.
    ‘Exploded after breakfast, according to H EX . Sorry,’ said Ridcully. ‘You can’t build a world out of smoke and mirrors. Damn … there goes Bursarium, too. I mean, I know iron rusts, but
these
elements collapse for a pastime.’
    ‘My hypothesis, for what it’s worth,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, ‘is that since it was all started off by the Dean, a certain Dean-like tendency may have imparted itself to the ensuing … er … developments.’
    ‘What? You mean we’ve got a huge windy universe with a tendency to sulk?’
    ‘Thank you, Archchancellor,’ said the Dean.
    ‘I was referring to the predilection of matter to … er … accrete into … er … spherical shapes.’
    ‘Like the Dean, you mean,’ said Archchancellor.
    ‘I can see I’m among friends here,’ said the Dean.
    There was a soft chime from the apparatus that had been accumulated around the Project.
    ‘That’ll be etherium vanishing,’ said Ridcully gloomily. ‘I knew that’d be the next to go.’
    ‘Actually … no,’ said Ponder Stibbons, peering into the Project. ‘Er … something has caught fire.’
    Points of light were appearing.
    ‘I
knew
something like that would happen,’ said the Archchancellor. ‘All those discs are heating up, just like damn compost heaps.’
    ‘Or suns,’ said Ponder.
    ‘Don’t be silly, Stibbons, they’re far too large for that. I’d hate to see one of
those
floating over the clouds,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
    ‘I said there was far too much gas,’ the Archchancellor went on. ‘That wraps it up, then.’
    ‘I wonder,’ said the Senior Wrangler.
    ‘What?’ said the Dean.
    ‘Well, at least we’ve got some heat in there … and there nothing like a good furnace for improving matters.’
    ‘Good point,’ said Ridcully. ‘Look at bronze – you can make that out of just about anything. And we could burn off some of the rubbish. All right, you fellows, help me dump more of the stuff in it …’
    Around about teatime, the first of the furnaces exploded, just as happened every day down at the Alchemists’ Guild.
    ‘Ye gods,’ said Ridcully, watching the shapes in the omniscope.
    ‘Yo?’ said the Dean.
    ‘We’ve made new elements!’
    ‘Keep it down, keep it down!’ hissed the Senior Wrangler.
    ‘There’s iron … silicon … we’ve