The Last Continent

'Quick, someone, give him some air,' said Ridcully. 'Now she's laughing, isn't she?'

Both the housekeeper and the god looked around at the wizards. Mrs Whitlow nodded her head as if to reassure him that what she'd just told him was true, and they both laughed.

'That looked more like a snigger,' said the Dean severely.

'I'm not sure I actually approve of this,' said Ridcully, haughtily. 'Gods and mortal women, you know. You hear stories.'

'Gods turning themselves into bulls,' said the Dean.

'Swans, too,' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.

'Showers of gold,' said the Dean.

'Yes,' said the Chair. He paused for a second. 'You know, I've often wondered about that one—'

'What's she describing now?'

'I think I'd rather not know, quite frankly.'

'Oh, look, someone please do something for the Senior Wrangler, will you?' said Ridcully. 'Loosen his clothing or something!'

They heard the god shout, 'It what?' Mrs Whitlow glanced around at the wizards and appeared to lower her voice.

'Did anyone ever meet Mr Whitlow?' said the Archchancellor.

'Well... no,' said the Dean. 'Not that I remember. I suppose we've all assumed that he's dead.'

'Anyone know what he died of?' Ridcully went on. 'Ah, quieten down... they're coming back...'

The god nodded cheerfully at them as he approached.

'Well, that's all sorted out,' he said, rubbing his hands together. 'I can't wait to see how it works in practice. You know, if I'd sat here for a hundred years I'd never have... well, really, no one could serious believe... I mean...' He started to chuckle at their frozen faces. 'That bit where he... and then she... Really, I'm amazed that anyone stops laughing long enough to... Still, I can see how it could work, and it certainly opens the door to some very interesting possibilities indeed...'

Mrs Whitlow was looking intently at the ceiling. There was perhaps just a hint in her stance and the way her rather expressive bosom moved that she was trying not to laugh. It was disconcerting. Mrs Whitlow never usually laughed at anything.

'Ah? Oh?' said Ridcully, edging towards the door. 'Really? Well done, then. So, I expect you don't need us any more, eh? Only we've got a boat to catch...'

'Yes, certainly, don't let me hold you up,' said the god, waving a hand vaguely. 'You know, the more I think about it, the more I can see that "sex" will solve practically all my problems.'

'Not everyone can say that,' said Ridcully gravely. 'Are you, er... joining us, Mrs, er, Whitlow?'

'Certainly, Archchancellor.'

'Er... jolly good. Well done. Ahem. And you, of course, Mister Stibbons...'

The god had wandered over to a workbench and was rummaging in boxes. The air glittered. Ponder looked up at the whale. It was clearly alive but... not at the moment. His gaze swept across the elephant-under-construction and past mysteriously organic-looking gantries, where shimmering blue light surrounded shapes as yet unrecognized, although one did appear to contain half a cow.

He carefully removed an exploring beetle from his ear. The point was, if he left now he'd always wonder...

'I think I'd like to stay,' he said.

'Good... er...' said the god, without looking around.

'Man,' said Ponder.

'Good man,' said the god.

'Are you sure?' said Ridcully.

'I don't think I've ever had a holiday,' said Ponder. 'I'd like to apply for time off to do research, sir.'

'But we're lost in the past, man!'

'Basic research, then,' said Ponder firmly. 'There's just so much to learn here, sir!'

'Really?'

'You've only got to look around, sir!'

'Well, I suppose I can't stop you if your mind's made up,' said the Archchancellor. 'We'll have to dock your pay, of course.'

'I don't think I've ever been paid, sir,' said Ponder.

The Dean nudged Ridcully and whispered in his car.

'And we need to know how the boat works,' Ridcully went on.

'What? Oh, it shouldn't be a problem,' said the god, looking up from his bench. 'It'll find somewhere with a different biogeographical signature, you see. It's all automatic. No sense in coming back to where you started from!' He waved a beetle leg in the air. There's a new continent going up turn wise of here. The boat'll probably head straight for a landmass that size.'

'New?' said Ridcully.

'Oh, yes. I've never been interested in that sort of thing myself, but you can hear the construction noises all night. It's certainly causing a mess.'

'Stibbons, are you sure you want to stay?' the Dean demanded.

'Er, yes...'

'I''m sure Mister Stibbons will uphold the fine traditions of the University!' said Ridcully heartily.

Ponder, who knew all about the traditions of the University, nodded very slightly. His heart was pounding. He hadn't even felt like this when he'd first worked out how to program Hex.

At last he'd found his proper place in the world. The future beckoned.

Dawn was breaking when the wizards ambled back down the mountain.

'Not a bad god, I thought,' said the Senior Wrangler. 'As gods go.'

'That was good coffee he made us,' said the Chair of Indefinite Studies.