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mahnmut'It's like, you know, industrial re-training,' said the bird. 'Even gods have to move with the times, am I right? He was probably quite different thousands of years ago. Stands to reason. No one wore stockings, for one thing.' He scratched at his beak.
'Yersss,' he continued expansively, 'he was probably just your basic winter demi-urge. You know ... blood on the snow, making the sun come up. Starts off with animal sacrifice, y'know, hunt some big hairy animal to death, that kind of stuff. You know there's some people up on the Ramtops who kill a wren at Hogswatch and walk around from house to house singing about it? With a whack-fol-oh-diddle-dildo. Very folkloric, very myffic.'
'A wren? Why?'
'I dunno. Maybe someone said, hey, how'd you like to hunt this evil bastard of an eagle with his big sharp beak and great ripping talons, sort of thing, or how about instead you hunt this wren, which is basically about the size of a pea and goes "twit"? Go on, you choose. Anyway, then later on it sinks to the level of religion and then they start this business where some poor bugger finds a special bean in his tucker, oho, everyone says, you're king, mate, and he thinks "This is a bit of all right" only they don't say it wouldn't be a good idea to start any long books, 'cos next thing he's legging it over the snow with a dozen other buggers chasing him with holy sickles so's the earth'll come to life again and all this snow'll go away. Very, you know ... ethnic. Then some bright spark thought, hey, looks like that damn sun comes up anyway, so how come we're giving those druids all this free grub? Next thing you know, there's a job vacancy. That's the thing about gods. They'll always find a way to, you know ... hang on.'
'The damn sun comes up anyway,' Susan repeated. 'How do you know that?'
'Oh, observation. It happens every morning. I seen it.'
MR HEX WAS REMARKABLY ASTUTE. THE HOGFATHER HAS BEEN... Death paused. THERE IS NO SENSIBLE HUMAN WORD. DEAD, IN A WAY, BUT NOT EXACTLY... A GOD CANNOT BE KILLED. NEVER COMPLETELY KILLED. HE HAS BEEN, SHALL WE SAY, SEVERELY REDUCED.
'Ye gods!' said Ridcully. 'Who'd want to kill off the old boy?'
HE HAS ENEMIES.
'What did he do? Miss a chimney?'
EVERY LIVING THING HAS ENEMIES.
'What, everything?'
YES. EVERYTHING. POWERFUL ENEMIES. BUT THEY HAVE CONE TOO FAR THIS TIME. NOW THEY ARE USING PEOPLE.
'Who are?'
THOSE WHO THINK THE UNIVERSE SHOULD BE A LOT OF ROCKS MOVING IN CURVES. HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF THE AUDITORS?
'I suppose the Bursar may have done-'
NOT AUDITORS OF MONEY. AUDITORS OF REALITY. THEY THINK OF LIFE AS A STAIN ON THE UNIVERSE. A PESTILENCE. MESSY. GETTING IN THE WAY.
'In the way of what?'
THE EFFICIENT RUNNING OF THE UNIVERSE.
'I thought it was run for us... Well, for the Professor of Applied Anthropics, actually, but we're allowed to tag along,' said Ridcully. He scratched his chin. 'And I could certainly run a marvellous university here if only we didn't have to have these damn students underfoot all the time.'
QUITE SO.
'They want to get rid of us?'
THEY WANT YOU TO BE... LESS... DAMN, I'VE FORGOTTEN THE WORD. UNTRUTHFUL? THE HOGFATHER IS A SYMBOL OF THIS... Death snapped his fingers, causing echoes to bounce off the walls, and added, WISTFUL LYING?
'Untruthful?' said Ridcully. 'Me? I'm as honest as the day is long! Yes, what is it this time?'
Ponder had tugged at his robe and now he whispered something in his ear.
Ridcully cleared his throat.
'I am reminded that this is in fact the shortest day of the year,' he said.
'However, this does not undermine the point that I just made, although I thank my colleague for his invaluable support and constant readiness to correct minor if not downright trivial errors. I am a remarkably truthful man, sir. Things said at University council meetings don't count.'
I MEAN HUMANITY IN GENERAL. ER... THE ACT OF TELLING THE UNIVERSE IT IS OTHER THAN IT is?
'You've got me there,' said Ridcully. 'Anyway, why're you doing the job?'
SOMEONE MUST. IT IS VITALLY IMPORTANT. THEY MUST BE SEEN, AND BELIEVED. BEFORE DAWN, THERE MUST BE ENOUGH BELIEF IN THE HOGFATHER.
'Why?' said Ridcully.
SO THAT THE SUN WILL COME UP.
The Hogfather nodded at Death, as one craftsman to another, and then at Susan. She wasn't sure if she was being thanked - it was more a gesture of recognition, of acknowledgement that something that needed doing had indeed been done. But it wasn't thanks.
Then he shook the reins and clicked his teeth and the sledge slid away.
They watched it go.
'I remember hearing,' said Susan distantly, 'that the idea of the Hogfather wearing a red and white outfit was invented quite recently.'
NO. IT WAS REMEMBERED.
Now the Hogfather was a red dot on the other side of the valley.
'Well, that about wraps it up for this dress,' said Susan. 'I'd just like to ask, just out of academic interest... you were sure I was going to survive, were you?'
I WAS QUITE CONFIDENT.
'Oh, good.'
I WILL GIVE YOU A LIFT BACK, said Death, after a while.
'Thank you. Now... tell me . .
WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU HADN'T SAVED HIM?
'Yes! The sun would have risen just the same, yes?'
NO.
'Oh, come on. You can't expect me to believe that. It's an astronomical fact.'
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
She turned on him.
'It's been a long night, Grandfather! I'm tired and I need a bath! I don't need silliness!'
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
'Really? Then what would have happened, pray?'
A MERE BALL OF FLAMING GAS WOULD HAVE ILLUMINATED THE WORLD...
'Yersss,' he continued expansively, 'he was probably just your basic winter demi-urge. You know ... blood on the snow, making the sun come up. Starts off with animal sacrifice, y'know, hunt some big hairy animal to death, that kind of stuff. You know there's some people up on the Ramtops who kill a wren at Hogswatch and walk around from house to house singing about it? With a whack-fol-oh-diddle-dildo. Very folkloric, very myffic.'
'A wren? Why?'
'I dunno. Maybe someone said, hey, how'd you like to hunt this evil bastard of an eagle with his big sharp beak and great ripping talons, sort of thing, or how about instead you hunt this wren, which is basically about the size of a pea and goes "twit"? Go on, you choose. Anyway, then later on it sinks to the level of religion and then they start this business where some poor bugger finds a special bean in his tucker, oho, everyone says, you're king, mate, and he thinks "This is a bit of all right" only they don't say it wouldn't be a good idea to start any long books, 'cos next thing he's legging it over the snow with a dozen other buggers chasing him with holy sickles so's the earth'll come to life again and all this snow'll go away. Very, you know ... ethnic. Then some bright spark thought, hey, looks like that damn sun comes up anyway, so how come we're giving those druids all this free grub? Next thing you know, there's a job vacancy. That's the thing about gods. They'll always find a way to, you know ... hang on.'
'The damn sun comes up anyway,' Susan repeated. 'How do you know that?'
'Oh, observation. It happens every morning. I seen it.'
...
MR HEX WAS REMARKABLY ASTUTE. THE HOGFATHER HAS BEEN... Death paused. THERE IS NO SENSIBLE HUMAN WORD. DEAD, IN A WAY, BUT NOT EXACTLY... A GOD CANNOT BE KILLED. NEVER COMPLETELY KILLED. HE HAS BEEN, SHALL WE SAY, SEVERELY REDUCED.
'Ye gods!' said Ridcully. 'Who'd want to kill off the old boy?'
HE HAS ENEMIES.
'What did he do? Miss a chimney?'
EVERY LIVING THING HAS ENEMIES.
'What, everything?'
YES. EVERYTHING. POWERFUL ENEMIES. BUT THEY HAVE CONE TOO FAR THIS TIME. NOW THEY ARE USING PEOPLE.
'Who are?'
THOSE WHO THINK THE UNIVERSE SHOULD BE A LOT OF ROCKS MOVING IN CURVES. HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF THE AUDITORS?
'I suppose the Bursar may have done-'
NOT AUDITORS OF MONEY. AUDITORS OF REALITY. THEY THINK OF LIFE AS A STAIN ON THE UNIVERSE. A PESTILENCE. MESSY. GETTING IN THE WAY.
'In the way of what?'
THE EFFICIENT RUNNING OF THE UNIVERSE.
'I thought it was run for us... Well, for the Professor of Applied Anthropics, actually, but we're allowed to tag along,' said Ridcully. He scratched his chin. 'And I could certainly run a marvellous university here if only we didn't have to have these damn students underfoot all the time.'
QUITE SO.
'They want to get rid of us?'
THEY WANT YOU TO BE... LESS... DAMN, I'VE FORGOTTEN THE WORD. UNTRUTHFUL? THE HOGFATHER IS A SYMBOL OF THIS... Death snapped his fingers, causing echoes to bounce off the walls, and added, WISTFUL LYING?
'Untruthful?' said Ridcully. 'Me? I'm as honest as the day is long! Yes, what is it this time?'
Ponder had tugged at his robe and now he whispered something in his ear.
Ridcully cleared his throat.
'I am reminded that this is in fact the shortest day of the year,' he said.
'However, this does not undermine the point that I just made, although I thank my colleague for his invaluable support and constant readiness to correct minor if not downright trivial errors. I am a remarkably truthful man, sir. Things said at University council meetings don't count.'
I MEAN HUMANITY IN GENERAL. ER... THE ACT OF TELLING THE UNIVERSE IT IS OTHER THAN IT is?
'You've got me there,' said Ridcully. 'Anyway, why're you doing the job?'
SOMEONE MUST. IT IS VITALLY IMPORTANT. THEY MUST BE SEEN, AND BELIEVED. BEFORE DAWN, THERE MUST BE ENOUGH BELIEF IN THE HOGFATHER.
'Why?' said Ridcully.
SO THAT THE SUN WILL COME UP.
...
The Hogfather nodded at Death, as one craftsman to another, and then at Susan. She wasn't sure if she was being thanked - it was more a gesture of recognition, of acknowledgement that something that needed doing had indeed been done. But it wasn't thanks.
Then he shook the reins and clicked his teeth and the sledge slid away.
They watched it go.
'I remember hearing,' said Susan distantly, 'that the idea of the Hogfather wearing a red and white outfit was invented quite recently.'
NO. IT WAS REMEMBERED.
Now the Hogfather was a red dot on the other side of the valley.
'Well, that about wraps it up for this dress,' said Susan. 'I'd just like to ask, just out of academic interest... you were sure I was going to survive, were you?'
I WAS QUITE CONFIDENT.
'Oh, good.'
I WILL GIVE YOU A LIFT BACK, said Death, after a while.
'Thank you. Now... tell me . .
WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU HADN'T SAVED HIM?
'Yes! The sun would have risen just the same, yes?'
NO.
'Oh, come on. You can't expect me to believe that. It's an astronomical fact.'
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
She turned on him.
'It's been a long night, Grandfather! I'm tired and I need a bath! I don't need silliness!'
THE SUN WOULD NOT HAVE RISEN.
'Really? Then what would have happened, pray?'
A MERE BALL OF FLAMING GAS WOULD HAVE ILLUMINATED THE WORLD...
