Just then, there was a shout from Commander Vimes. ‘Lipwig! Drop!’
Moist dropped, while whatever the commander had seen scythed overhead, and he was just picking himself up when Vimes tackled him back down to the ground as the missile whistled round for another slice before finally dropping somewhere near their feet.
‘And there you have it,’ said Vimes. ‘Really nasty fellows, delvers, but you’ve got to admire their workmanship.’
Moist, still at ground level, said, as if it mattered, ‘Was it really them?’
‘Quite likely, but there are other nuisances in these hills. You must know that where there are tourists there are also people eager for their dollars. Don’t touch it!’
Moist’s hand flew back.
‘It’s a boomerang,’ said Vimes. ‘You find something like this all over the world. You have to wave it carefully and suddenly your opponent gets it in the back. I’ve heard that there’s a lad in Fourecks who can throw a boomerang with such precision that it can get the morning paper and come back with it.’
Moist gave the commander a look of disbelief.
‘Well, that’s what they say, and you know those boys from Fourecks, they love to draw a long bow,’ Vimes continued, picking up the boomerang gingerly with a handkerchief. He sniffed it, grimaced and said, ‘The stuff the grags have put on this one might not kill you but you’ll wish that it had for a day or two, if you’re lucky. I’m going to have to talk to Vetinari about this place. They’ve got something like a government here, but their policing might just be adequate in a kindergarten. They’re not exactly bent, just not organized in the right way. Good grief, I could even send Nobby up here and the quality of the policing would go comparatively sky high.’
‘Surely Vetinari’s remit doesn’t stretch all the way out here? And you’re well out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you?’
To Moist’s amazement Vimes laughed, and said, ‘I couldn’t speak for Vetinari, but we all know he has his … ways and his means. I think he allows this place to exist so that it doesn’t exist in Ankh-Morpork. And as for my jurisdiction, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are a number of people in this place who’d like to see some law in the streets. So if that were the case, well, it might be my duty to assist. But not today.’
He patted Moist on the shoulder and said, ‘Mister Lipwig, I’m sure there’ve been times in your life when you’ve seen a wonderful opportunity to steal something valuable and you’ve decided for various reasons not to? Well, I feel as you would then. This place is a sink. Who knows what dreadful things are happening behind closed doors.’ He shrugged and went on, ‘But you can’t kick down every door in the universe. And we have more pressing matters to attend to.’
Moist accepted this sad explanation and after a fruitless hunt around for their assailant they turned their backs on the Paps to head back to the station. As they left the lookout point, they heard a train whistle in the distance. Far away, climbing into Zemphis on the main line from the Plains, there was a streak of scintillating sunlight with a trail of steam.
Vimes looked at Moist and said, ‘What the hell is that? There isn’t another train due today, is there?’
‘Well, Dick said he was polishing up Iron Girder for the big event, and before we left he was talking as if his favourite locomotive had been getting a complete overhaul. That must be her.’
In fact, it wasn’t just an overhaul. When Moist had shown Simnel the micromail he had received as spoils of the battle with the dwarfs at the Quirm railhead, the young engineer had smiled and said, ‘Aye, I know what the secret is here. This is a metal stronger than iron, malleable and half its weight, and it never rusts. Its ore is rare but it’s the base of a new alloy I’ve made. I call it sorortanium, which Mister Thunderbolt says means the sister of iron. It’s stronger even than steel! What boilers I could make with it if only I could get ’old of enough of the stuff! Thank you. It’s amazing and I know just what to do with it.’
As they watched the astonishing locomotive dealing with the steep haul into Zemphis, Moist noticed that the engine appeared to shrug off the load behind her. The Flyer they had come in on earlier had been creaking as it chugged up the last steep haul into Zemphis. This new train didn’t even seem to notice the gradient.
Vimes smacked his head and said, ‘Is that really Iron Girder? Last I saw of Iron Girder, she was providing a playground entertainment for grown-ups. If that’s Iron Girder,’ he said, pointing at the shimmering apparition, ‘surely she’s grown?’
‘I
t is Iron Girder,’ said Moist. ‘Dick spends all his time tinkering with her, over and over again, improving her at every turn and opportunity. And at the end, well, she’s still Iron Girder. She’ll always be Iron Girder.’
‘But she’s so easily spotted, all that shining … People are going to see her coming for miles! No chance of an inconspicuous departure, then!’
‘I know,’ said Moist. ‘But since you can hear her coming for miles, Dick said it won’t make any difference. Everyone’ll know we’re coming.’ Though the silver carapace in fact could make a significant difference in other ways, he thought.
‘If you please, ah grag nunfn72, we have lost track of two agents on one of the trains,’ said the acolyte. ‘Alas, we are no longer in touch with them.’
The grag commander looked up. ‘Ah-ha!’ he said. ‘Where were they when we last heard from them?’
‘On the regular service from Sto Lat to Zemphis. But they failed to report at Big Cabbage or earlier as the train passed through Cranbury.’
‘Are you certain?’
The acolyte jumped. ‘Well, my lord, we are in the dark, but I think so …’
‘In that case,’ said the grag, ‘make it known that we are no longer bothering with the other routes. Our … package must have been on that train to Zemphis. And from there … The Paps await, and they take no prisoners! They, my friend, are coming to us. And the creatures that live in the Paps will be our allies! It’s all about the railway now, and we know that it is in the compass of our agents to stop those blasted wheels turning. Be mindful of bridges, however. The enemy favours the dreadful stone people who love to guard them. And surely tunnels can also be made to fail … This wretched technology contains the seeds of fallibility.’
‘Yes, grag nun, we know that the locomotive has to stop frequently for coal and water. Deprive it of either and there is no locomotive, just a lump of old iron. So, the coal bunkers and, yes, water cranes … There will be guards, of course, but they should be easy to overcome when stationary.’
The chief grag returned to his study of the words of Tak as annotated by Grag Hamcrusher.