Discworld – The Last Continent (Terry Pratchett)

Rincewind ran his fingers over the cave wall.

The ground shook again.

'What's causing that?' he said.

'Oh, some people say it's an earthquake, some say it's the country drying up, others say it's a giant snake rushing through the ground,' said Scrappy.

'Which is it?'

The wrong sort of question.'

They definitely looked like wizards, thought Rincewind. They had that basic cone shape familiar to anyone who had been to Unseen University. They were holding staffs. Even with the crude materials available to them the ancient artists had managed to portray the knobs on the ends.

But UU hadn't even existed thirty thousand years ago …

Then he noticed, for the first time, the drawing right at the end of the cave. There were a lot of the ochre handprints on top of it, almost – and the thought expanded in his mind in a sneaky way -as though someone had thought that they could hold it down on to the rock, prevent it – this was a silly thought, he knew – prevent it from getting out.

He brushed away some dust.

'Oh, no,' he mumbled.

It was an oblong box. The artist hadn't got the hang of conventional perspective, but there was no doubt that he'd tried to paint hundreds of little legs.

'That's my Luggage!'

'Always the same, right?' said Scrappy, behind him. 'You arrive okay and your luggage ends up somewhere else.'

Thousands of years in the past?'

'Could be a valuable antique.'

'It's got my clothes in it!'

'They'll probably be back in style, then.'

'You don't understand! It's a magical box! It's supposed to end up where I am!'

'It probably is where you are. Just not when.'

'What? Oh.'

'I told you time and space were all stirred up, didn't I? You wait till you're on your journey. There's places where there's several times happening at once and places where there's hardly any time at all, and times when there's hardly any place. You've got to sort it out, right?'

'What, like shuffling cards?' said Rincewind. He made a mental note about 'on your journey'.

'Yep.'

That's impossible!'

'Y'know, I'd have said so too. But you will do it. Now, you'll have to concentrate about this bit, right?' Scrappy took a deep breath. 'I know you're going to do it because you've already done it.'

Rincewind put his head in his hands.

'I told you about time and space here being mixed up,' said the kangaroo.

'I've already saved the country, have I?'

'Yep.'

'Oh, good. Well, that wasn't so difficult. I don't want much – a medal, perhaps, the grateful thanks of the population, maybe a small pension and a ticket home …' He looked up. 'I'm not going to get any of that, though, am I?'

'No, because—'

'—I haven't already done it yet?'

'Exactly! You're getting the hang of it! You have to go and do what we know you're going to do because you've already done it. In fact, if you hadn't done it already I wouldn't be here to make sure it gets done. So you'd better do it.'

'Facing terrible dangers?'

The kangaroo waved a paw. 'Slightly terrible,' it said.

'And go for many miles over parched and trackless terrain?'

'Well, yeah. We haven't got any of the other sort.'

Rincewind brightened up slightly. 'And I'll meet comrades whose strengths and skills will be a great help to me?'

'Don't bet on it.'

'Any chance of a magic sword?'

'What would you do with a magic sword?'

'Fair enough. Fair enough. Forget the magic sword. But I've got to have something. Cloak of invisibility, potion of strength, something like that …'

That stuff's for people who know how to use them, mister. You'll have to rely on your native wit.'

'I've got nothing? What sort of quest is that? Can't you give me any hints?'

'You may have to drink some beer,' said the kangaroo. It cringed back for a moment, as if confident of facing a storm of objections.

Rincewind said: 'Oh. Right. Well, I know how to do that. What direction am I supposed to go?'

'Oh, you'll find it.'

'And when I get to where I'm going, what am I supposed to do?'

'It'll … be obvious, right?'

'And how will I know I've done it?'

'The Wet will come back.'

'The wet what?'

'It'll rain.'

'I thought it never rained here,' said Rincewind.

'See? I knew you were smart.'

The sun was setting. The rocks around the edge of the cave glowed red. Rincewind stared at them for a while, and reached a brave decision.

'I'm not the man to shirk when the fate of whole countries is in the balance,' he said. 'I will make a start at dawn to complete this task which I have already completed, by hoki, or my name isn't Rincewand!'

'Rincewind,' said the kangaroo.

'Indeed!'

'Well said, mate. Then I should get some sleep, if I were you. Could be a busy day tomorrow.'

'I've not been found wanting when duty calls,' said Rincewind. He reached into a hollow log and, after some rummaging around, pulled out a plate of egg and chips. 'See you at dawn, then.'

Ten minutes later he stretched out on the sand with the log as his pillow, and looked up at the purple sky. Already a few stars were coming out.

Now, there was something … Oh, yes. The kangaroo was lying down on the other side of the waterhole.

Rincewind raised his head. 'You said something about when "he" created this place, and you talked about "him" …'

'Yep.'

'Only … I'm pretty sure I've met the Creator.

Short bloke. Does all his own snowflakes.'

'Yeah? And when did you meet him?'

'When he was making the world, as a matter of fact.' Rincewind decided to refrain from mentioning that he'd dropped a sandwich into a rockpool at the time. People don't like to hear that they may have evolved from somebody's lunch. 'I get around quite a lot,' he added.

'Are you coming the raw prawn?'

'What? Oh, no. Certainly not. Coming a raw prawn? Not me. That's something I never do. Or even cooked prawns. Or crustaceans of any sort, especially in rockpools. Not me. Er … what was it that you actually meant?'

'Well, he didn't create this place,' said Scrappy, ignoring him. 'This was done after.'

'Can that happen?'

'Why not?'

'Well, it's not like, you know, building on over the stables, is it?' said Rincewind. 'Someone just wanders along when a world's all finished and slings down an extra continent?'

'Happens all the time, mate,' said Scrappy. 'Bloody hell, yeah. Why not, anyway? If other creators go around leaving ruddy great empty oceans, someone's bound to fill 'em up, right? Does a world good, too, having a fresh look, new ideas, new ways.'

Rincewind stared up at the stars. He had a mental vision of someone walking from world to world, sneaking in extra lands when no one was looking.

'Yes indeed,' he said. 'I for one would not have thought of making all the snakes deadly, and all the spiders deadlier than the snakes. And putting pockets on everything? Great idea.'

'There you go, then,' said Scrappy. He was hardly visible now, as the dark filled up the cave.

'Made a lot of them, has he?'

'Yep.'

'Why?'

'So's maybe at least one of them won't get mucked up. Always puts kangaroos on 'em, too. Sort of a signature, you might say.'

'Does this Creator have a name?'

'Nope. He's just the man who carries the sack that contains the whole universe.'

'A leather sack?'

'Sounds like him,' the kangaroo agreed.

The whole universe in one small sack?'

'Yep.'

Rincewind settled back. 'I'm glad I'm not religious,' he said. 'It must be very complicated.'

After another five minutes he began to snore. After half an hour he moved his head slightly. The kangaroo didn't seem to be around.

With almost super-Rincewind speed he was upright and scrambling up the fallen rocks, over the lip of the cave and into the dark oven of the night.

He sighted on a random star and got into his stride, ignoring the bushes that lashed at his bare legs.

Hah!

He Was not going to be found wanting when duty called. He did not intend to be found at all.

In the cave the water in the pool rippled under the starlight, the expanding circles lapping against the sand.

On the wall was an ancient drawing of a kangaroo, in white and red and yellow. The artist had tried to achieve on stone what might better have been attempted with eight dimensions and a large particle accelerator; he'd tried to include not just the kangaroo now but also the kangaroo in the past, and the kangaroo in the future and, in short, not what the kangaroo looked like but what the kangaroo was.

Among other things, as it faded, it was grinning.