The dark side of the sun - By Terry Pratchett Page 0,28

small battered Class One robot, nodded familiarly at Dom as they passed.

‘Do you know them?’ asked Hrsh-Hgn as they sat down.

‘Not that I can recall,’ said Dom. ‘There’s something odd about them. He looked a wealthy type. What’s he doing with a mere Class One?’

‘One of life’ss little myssteriess,’ said the phnobe.

They ate in silence. The diner beside Dom was energetically digging him in the ribs with a horny elbow. It was a young drosk, who looked up, gave Dom a canine grin, and bent back to his plate. Dom carefully refrained from looking at what he was eating.

On the other side a party of female phnobes of the Long Cloud group were arguing sibilantly. Beyond them was a Pineal-human, performing a complex Third Eye food ceremony over his rice bowl.

Dom ordered fish and bread. Hrsh-Hgn had a fungi stew.

The Class Two waiter trundled up with their bill and tactfully ascertained Dom’s credit rating with the Bank.

‘Divert a tenth-standard for yourself,’ added Dom.

‘Many thanks indeed, sir,’ said the automaton. It added politely: ‘I have always had a high regard for Sinistral-humans, sir.’

‘Who said I was from Widdershins?’ Dom tried to pitch his voice low. Several of the phnobes looked round. But the robot had rolled away.

‘Your face,’ said Hrsh-Hgn simply.

Dom reached up, and then caught sight of his hand. The greenish tinge of googoo. Of course it was used on other worlds in exceptional circumstances – and under strict licence – but that made no difference. In popular mythology, any green man was a Widdershine.

‘I don’t think you need bother too much,’ said the phnobe as they walked out. ‘Whoever thiss asssasssin iss, I doubt if he will be fooled by dissguises. He iss using probability math to put himself in the right place every time.’

‘He’s not succeeded so far. Remember what happened at that tower?’

‘Don’t bank on it.’

A small two-wheel Class One trundled towards them and tugged at Dom’s cloak.

‘Lord Sabalos, Bank will see you now. To follow me.’

It rolled away on its balloon tyres. They followed it at a walking pace.

Dom looked around him and made no attempt to disguise his awe. He was beginning to feel like a rube anyway. The times he had left See-Why’s system were few enough, but he closed his mouth firmly when he found it was hanging open.

The main cavern had been opened out near the North Temperate Fault, the result of an ancient computer quake that had slid two continent-sized silicon slabs together and created several quintillion important circuits. It had happened when Earth was still molten. Historians suggested that it had marked the awakening of the Bank; the colossal, thundering moment between dead piezoelectric rock and sapience. On this point, as on many concerning its personal history, the Bank was silent.

The robot led them up a shallow slope against the Fault and into a branching tunnel hewn from the living – it was a fair statement – rock. The pinpoints clustered thickly here.

A sphincter door opened. They went in.

‘DOM! COME RIGHT IN!’

The room was small and brightly lit. Thick carpets covered the floor and there was a large potted palm in the corner. Against the far wall was a desk, simply furnished. A robot sat behind it. It had been stripped of most of its outer casing, including its head, and was strung about with auxiliary equipment. Ropes of cables connected it to the wall. It was smoking a cigar through an extended tube.

‘GREETINGS TO YOU, TOO, HRSH-HGN.’

Dom stared at the cigar.

‘NOT PRIMARILY AN AFFECTATION,’ said the Bank. ‘THERE IS A CERTAIN SENSUAL PLEASURE, YOU UNDERSTAND. AND IT HELPS TO PUT SOME OF MY MORE NERVOUS VISITORS AT THEIR EASE. A ROBOT IS HUMANOID. WHEN ON TOP OF THAT IT IS SMOKING A CIGAR IT IS FAR MORE RELAXING TO CONVERSE WITH THAN—’

‘—a planet-sized computer?’ suggested Dom. ‘Hello, Godfather.’

‘I TRUST YOUR FAMILY IS IN GOOD HEALTH.’

‘Reasonably so, when I left Widdershins,’ said Dom. ‘It’s very good of you to see us.’

‘NOT AT ALL. I ALWAYS HAVE TIME FOR MY GODCHILDREN. AND HRSH-HGN, OF COURSE, ONE OF THE MORE PROMISING AMATEUR STUDENTS OF THE JOKER MYSTERY.’

Hrsh-Hgn nodded graciously.

‘Godchildren?’ asked Dom, interested despite himself. ‘I ...uh ... thought I was the only one.’

‘I HAVE SEVERAL THOUSAND. IT PLEASES ME TO SEE THEM GROW UP AND MAKE THEIR WAY IN THE UNIVERSE. AND NOW, DOM, THE SUBJECT CONCERNING WHICH YOU NO DOUBT CAME HERE TO CONSULT ME.’

The red lights in the wall flared.

‘I REFER TO THE ATTEMPTS ON YOUR LIFE, YOUR FATHER’S PREDICTIONS,