The Truth

THE BIT, said Death, BETWEEN YOUR BEING BORN AND YOUR DYING. No, THIS... MR TULIP, THIS IS YOUR WHOLE LIFE AS IT PASSED BEFORE OTHER PEOPLE'S EYES...

By the time the golems arrived it was all over. The fire had been fierce but short-lived. It had stopped because there wasn't anything left to burn. The crowd that always turns up to watch a fire then dispersed until the next one, reckoning that this one had not scored very highly, what with no one dying.

The walls were still standing. Half the tin roof had fallen in. Sleet had begun to fall, too, and now it hissed on the hot stone as William picked his way cautiously through the debris.

The press was visible in the light of the few fires still smouldering. William heard it sizzling under the sleet.

'Repairable?' he said to Goodmountain, who was following him.

'Not a chance. The frame, maybe. We'll salvage what we can.'

'Look, I'm so sorry--'

'Not your fault,' said the dwarf, kicking at a smoking can. 'And look on the bright side... we still owe Harry King a lot of money.'

'Don't remind me...'

'I don't need to. He'll remind you. Us, rather.'

267

William wrapped his jacket around his sleeve and pushed aside some of the roof.

'The desks are still here!'

'Fire can be funny like that,' said Goodmountain gloomily. 'And the roof probably kept the worst of it away.'

'I mean, they're half charred but they're still usable!'

'Oh, well, we're home and dry, then,' said the dwarf, now sliding towards 'glumly'. 'How soon do you want the next edition?'

'Look, even the spike... there's even bits of paper that are hardly charred!'

'Life is full of unexpected treasure,' said Goodmountain. 'I don't think you should come in here, miss!'

This was to Sacharissa, who was picking her way across the smouldering ruins.

'It's where I work,' she said. 'Can you repair the press?'

'No! It's... done for! It's scrap! We've got no press and no type and no metal! Can you both hear me?'

'Okay, so we've got to get another press,' said Sacharissa evenly.

'Even an old scrap one would cost a thousand dollars!' said Goodmountain. 'Look, it's over. There is nothing leftY

'I've got some savings,' said Sacharissa, pushing the rubble off her desk. 'Perhaps we can get one of those little hand presses to be going on with.'

'I'm in debt,' said William, 'but I could probably go into debt another few hundred dollars.'

'Do you think we could go on working if we put a tarpaulin over the roof, or should we move to somewhere else?' said Sacharissa.

'I don't want to move. A few days' work should get this place in shape,' said William.

Goodmountain cupped his hands around his mouth. 'Hel-looo! This is sanity calling! We have no money.'

'There's not much room to expand, though,' said Sacharissa.

'In what way?'

'Magazines,' said Sacharissa, as the sleet settled in her hair. Around her the other dwarfs spread out on a hopeless salvage operation. 'Yes, I know the paper's important, but there's a lot of dead time on the press and, well, I'm sure there'd be a market

268

for something like, well, a magazine for ladies

'Dead time on the press?' said Goodmountain. The press is deadV

'What about?' said William, completely ignoring him.

'Oh... fashion. Pictures of women wearing new clothes. Knitting. That sort of thing. And don't you go telling me it's too dull. People will buy it,'

'Clothes? Knitting?'

'People are interested in that sort of thing.'

'I don't like that idea much,' said William. 'You might as well say we should have a magazine just for men.'

'Why not? What would you put in it?'

'Oh, I don't know. Articles about drink. Pictures of women not wearing... Anyway, we'd need more people to write for them,'

'Excuse me?' said Goodmountain.

'Lots of people can write well enough for that sort of thing,' said Sacharissa. 'If it was clever, we wouldn't be able to do it.'

That's true.'

'And there's another magazine that would sell, too,' said Sacharissa. Behind her a piece of the press collapsed.

'Hello? Hello? I know my mouth is opening and shutting,' said Goodmountain. 'Is any sound getting out?'

'Cats,' said Sacharissa. 'Lots of people like cats. Pictures of cats. Stories about cats. I've been thinking about it. It could be called... Completely Cats.'

To go with Completely Women, and Completely Men? Completely Knitting? Completely Cake?'

'I had thought of calling it something like The Ladies' Home Companion,' said Sacharissa, 'but your title has got a certain ring, I must admit. Ring... yes. Now, that's another thing. There's all the dwarfs in the city. We could produce a magazine for them. I mean... what's the modern dwarf wearing this season?'

'Chain mail and leather,' said Goodmountain, suddenly perplexed. 'What are you talking about? It's always chain mail and leather!'

Sacharissa ignored him. The two of them were in a world of their own, Goodmountain realized. It had nothing to do with the real one any more.

269

'Seems a bit of a waste, though,' said William. 'A waste of words, I mean.'