From: Philippa Chapman (Glastonbury, Somerset, UK.) Date: Sun, 15 Dec 1996 12:00 -0500 OCTARINE LEAP (Part 1) Footnotes are referenced in the text by the characters +, #, @ and % in that order for each "page" like this.+ The footnotes themselves are enclosed between complete rows of dashes like this: ------------------------------------------------------------------------ + This is an example footnote to explain that text that should be bolded is enclosed in asterisks like *this* ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The beautiful blue and white shimmer of another leap deposited Sam onto a threadbare carpet on a rough wooden floor. He blinked slowly a few times, taking long, steadying breaths, then rose slowly to his feet. His attention was immediately riveted by the...garment he was wearing. It was long, shabby, voluminous and pink. Pink with silver stars and a gold trim round the sleeves and hem. Opposite Sam was an ancient dirty mirror. Sam approached with some trepidation, wiping the best of the grime off with one sleeve. Sam had expected to see a hippy. He was sadly mistaken. A long thin face sporting a long thin grey beard and matching straggly hair met his gaze. Topped off with a beak of a nose and a long pointy hat...there was only one thing he *could* be. "Good grief! I'm a wizard....or someone who *thinks* he's a wizard.+ Ohhh, boy." Sam was interrupted from his thoughts by the familiar sound of the Imaging Chamber door opening. Sam watched as Al came through and took in his costume. "Hey, Sam; looks like you're all ready to go celebrate Halloween. That or you've *really* been overdoing the funny cigarettes lately.....I wonder what Tina's reaction would be if I turned up in something like that..?" Sam quietly grit his teeth, although part of him could see the humour of the situation. "You know perfectly well you can't wear pink, Al. It swears with your Italian complection.# Anyway, who am I and what am I here for?" Al gently acknowleged Sam's riposte, then consulted his handlink for answers. "According to Ziggy, you've leaped into a wizard called Rincewind. Yes, she's adamant that Rincewind is a real wizard. You reside at the Unseen University in a city called Ankh Morpork..." Al took in Sam's incredulous expression and he concluded,"Don't look at me, pal. I just read this stuff." There was a small trunk on the floor, which Sam parked himself on while he thought. "I've always thought that there was no such thing as magic... and I know I've *never* heard any of those names before. You'll be telling me next that the world is flat." "Actually, Sam, this world *is* flat...no, that can't be right. Ziggy's having me on. She is calmly trying to inform me..us, that this is a flat world being pulled along in space on the back of a giant turtle. Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Sheba. Look, Sam, it appears that Ziggy has gone out to play with the pixies and the fairies, so you just sit tight, don't move and I'll get back as soon as I can. I'll check our visitor, too...he might be more lucid." Almost at the instant Al had vanished, Sam found himself deposited on the floor. He looked at the trunk, then wished he hadn't. It was standing on over a dozen little legs, each with five toes attached and it was most definitely alive. It nudged him gently with it's handle, just like a cat or dog when it wants a pat. Sam found himself stroking it purely out of reflex before he could think. The trunk began to vibrate in what could only be described as an appreciative manner, as if it were purring. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ + Actually, Sam is a lot closer to the truth than he knows at the moment. # It beats Dean's explanation, doesn't it? ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Luggage (for that was the trunk's real name) was close to heaven. Never had the grain of it's wood felt such tenderness, such care, from a pair of hands. It knew instinctively that this new person was definitely *not* Rincewind. The wizard did his best for it and took care of it, but this new owner was something different. Then the hands moved to massage it's feet and the Luggage finally knew why life was worth living. Sam, of course, was completely unaware of the full extent of the pleasure he was bestowing, which is perhaps just as well, because Al would have been able to top all Sam's remarks about Al's personal habits in one go. There was a sudden knock at the door. Sam gave the Luggage a final pat, then turned to face the door. "Come in, please." That was as safe as anything. Another, younger, wizard entered. He stopped for a moment, looked very strangely at Sam, then came into the room. He was quite tall with dark blue eyes and a thick brown beard. "Master Rincewind....have you been trying the rejuvinating spell again?" "Er, no, I don't *think* so. What makes you ask that?" "Well, you seem to be about thirty years younger than when I saw you this morning....your hair's brown and you've lost your beard and....your eyes have turned *green*. You haven't risked saying the Forbidded Number, have you?" "No, again I don't think so....How can I help you?" The younger wizard shuffled his feet. "Do you remember my telling you about my friend Simmie Anne? The one who had that...um...unfortunate accident? I hope you won't be cross, but I've brought her here to meet you. She could really do with a solution to her problem." So saying, he reached out a hand - a long thin hand - and pulled a second person into the doorway. Since she - Sam guessed 'she' because of the name - was clad from head to toe in a black cowled robe it was a little difficult for Sam to attempt even the most basic diagnosis. "Er...Simmie, can I call you that?" There came an almost imperceptible nod from the figure. "I'm going to have to ask you to trust me and share your problem with me so that we can obtain a cure....I can't go saying the wrong spell...it might make the situation worse." The figure turned to the young wizard and whispered violently and inaudibly in his ear. "She says quite catagorically that you are *not* Rincewind. Apparently you don't...excuse me...smell the same,+" the young wizard said apologetically, then, with more anger,"If you're *not* Rincewind, who are you and what have you done with him?" 'Ohhh, boy; get out of *this* one Sam,' he thought desperately to himself. At that moment, Sam was temporarily distracted by Al's return. "Where have you *been*?" he asked through his teeth,"And what do I do with *them*?" "Rincewind!! Or whoever you are...what on the Disc are you doing with that Technicolour Hobgoblin?" The wizard's voice had altered quite considerably with surprise. If it hadn't been for the beard, Sam would have sworn it sounded like the man was going through puberty, it went so high. Sam had some practice in pretending Al was invisible. "And which," he said, carefully looking around him,"Technicolour Hobgoblin would that be?" "The one standing right next to you in the peculiar turquoise and black clothes and the funny hat." That was Al, right enough. He even shimmered slightly as he moved. "I think we'd better come clean, Sam. That young man is looking right at me." The young man in question entered the room somewhat hesitantly and gingerly approached Al. He proved to himself the validity of Al's semi- presence and Sam's solidity. His eyes narrowed speculatively above his beard. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ + If you are beginning to think that Simmie Anne is a little strange, you're on the right track. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Sam took a deep breath and tried to explain as simply as possible,"I've travelled here through space and time..." "So you *are* magic!?" "I guess you would undoubtedly consider it a form of magic, but I understood it all....once. I've taken the place of your wizard Rincewind, and he's taken mine back home and he's quite safe," Sam looked at Al, who nodded in confirmation,"Anyway, once I've done what I came here to do; which at the moment looks like helping your friend Simmie, I'll go away and Rincewind will return. What beats me is why you can see me as I really am...and Al too." The young man shook his head in humour,"A wizard's first lesson is how to look through the enchantments of others. So you are Al and *you* are Sam. What an unusual and attr...,I mean quaint, name. My name's Cesario, by the way. It's a pity you're not a djinn, Al. They are all- powerful in magic, they can do *anything*." Al puffed ruefully at his cigar,"Wish I was magic, kid. I'd rustle myself up a beautiful passionate red-head, or a blonde or brunette; I'm not fussy, just as long as she had an incredible pair of...*maraccas*," he finished significantly under Sam's disapproving stare,"Then of course, I'd get you home, Sam; you know I would. Anyway, my...er...device here suggests very strongly that we should go to the Library of this University place and have a chat with the Librarian. Says here that the place is simply heaving with magical books, so one of them ought to have an answer to your friend Sammie's problem, whatever it is." "Yes, that might just do it. Simmie's only just arrived, or I might have thought of it sooner. Sam, you're a stranger to being a wizard, so I must tell you that no wizard who wants to stay alive will ever utter the product of seven plus one. It's considered highly dangerous...the Disc might explode or something." Sam's face curved into an incredulous smile. "You're kidding me, right?!" "No, I promise you it's true. Perhaps it's a good thing that you *don't* know any magic+, otherwise you could make a horrible mistake." Cesario's voice shot upwards out of control again. Sam mused, The Library was a huge cavern of a room, stacked floor to ceiling as far as the eye could see with shelves crammed with thousands of big leather- bound books that resembled the sort of Bibles that can be found in old churches.# There was one section devoted to scrolls in clay jars. Sam got the distinct impression that some of the books were moving when he wasn't looking at them directly.@ The sensation was unnerving. Al was certainly on edge, his eyes darting from side to side, almost as if to dare any of the books to even *think* of moving. "I don't like this place, Sam. It's giving me the heebie-geebies." "Aren't they a pop group?" Sam inquired, his face all innocent, as if he was mis-remembering something. Al looked at Sam warily, then did a classic double-take when he saw the subtle wicked twinkle in Sam's eyes. "Hmph...yes, very funny, Sam. Okay, 15-love to you this round." Then came the noise; a sort of shuffling, padding kind of noise, the sound of skin on wood punctuated by irregular periods of silence. Al went almost completely white, his cigar dropped from his hand and his eyes boggled. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ + Cesario was not yet aware of the uncomfortable truth that Rincewind himself had about as much magic as a brick has aerodynamic capabilities. # That is, unless someone's nicked it. @ He was right. Most of the books in the Library have what might be termed a life of their own and would run away if they weren't chained down. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Ohhh, noo, I've got a bad feeling about this, Sam. If this really *is* *the* *Discworld*..." "It is," asserted Cesario. "And there is real magic and wizards and hobgoblins..." "There is and there are." "Then I definitely do *not* like the sound of whatever that is. You don't have ghosts, do you?" "Of course, but surely *you* don't need to be afraid. A ghost couldn't hurt you. I doubt if even the Tempesta di Fusilli could touch you." "Now look here; I'm Italian, kid. Nobody fools Al Calavicci with a type of pasta." "Is this...*pasta*, (whatever that is), shaped like a corkscrew?" "You bet your sweet bippy it is!" "So's the Tempesta!" Sam began to warm to this young man who could outsmart Al in his own language. Cesario spoke again. "Eholdbay hetay Ibrarianlay!" "Hey, that's pig latin! Even I understand that! The Librarian has arrived.....oh, my goodness!" "*Holy* *Shit!* _That's_ the Librarian?!" Al's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Oook!"+ "I don't know what you're worried about, Al. We managed alright when I leaped into a chimpanzee. This...er...ape seems to understand us and he must be able to read in order to look after a Library," Sam acted a lot more poised than he felt,"Perhaps I can talk to him and he can talk to me." "Okay, Doctor Doolittle, be my guest. Just don't let him search you for ticks!" Al's face creased into a wicked grin. Sam squatted down into a non-threatening posture and began to make soft ape-like noises to the Librarian. The Librarian started to approach Sam. "I don't believe it!" It was Simmie, breaking her silence for the first time. Four heads swivelled in her direction. Her voice was low, husky, with a strangly squashed nasal quality. "Oook? *Oook?*" The Librarian lifted his head and smelt something that was obviously undetectable by the other three. He approached Simmie with incredible delicacy, almost as if he didn't quite believe his senses, then stopped a few feet away, his eyes approximately directly opposite hers. There was a brief tension-filled pause, then the Librarian went haywire. He jumped up and down, whooping and banging his chest for several minutes until it obviously occurred to him that this might not be the best approach and he suddenly stopped dead, again apparently looking Simmie right in the eyes. He held out a trembling paw. "Oook?" "My name is Simmie and perhaps I don't want to be cured any more. Your declaration has touched me very deeply. I am certainly willing to consider all you have said, but perhaps we need to get to know one another a little better first?" She extended her arm and the sleeve fell back to reveal a slightly less hairy, feminine version of the Librarian's. With one fluid gesture she removed her robe and stood before them. There was no denying her orangutan heritage now. Orange hair covered her body, but was longer and closer to human on her head and tied back with a green ribbon. She wore a matching green dress, but no shoes. She turned and smiled at Sam, Al and Cesario. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ + It had better be explained at this point that the Librarian is an orangutan. He used to be human once, was changed by magic and is quite happy not to be changed back. It seems unfair that he has not had any romance in his life apart from his books. Astute readers will be aware that this is about to change. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Cesario will tell you that I was an orangutan once, but I have been humanised. This gentle Librarian is, if you like, the exact opposite. He has been deprived the power of human speech, but I understand him perfectly; and he understands me. He has told me that we are meant to be together...and you heard what I said. Could you let us try and work this out?" Cesario, Sam and Al all looked at one another and nodded. "Oook, ooook, oooook." "The Librarian says that if there's any way he can be of assistance to you in the future, you only have to ask him," Simmie blushed under her fur,"He says that today his fondest dreams have come true. And, yes, I can peel a banana with my toes and I simply *love* peanuts.....please excuse me, he seems anxious to give me a conducted tour..." Simmie's voice grew indistinct as she disappeared hand in hand with the Librarian. Al shook his head ruefully. "If I'd known that being mono-syllabic and dressing up in fur was a good way to get women, I'd have joined the club long ago. *You* didn't too so badly when you were a chimpanzee, either," Al sighed regretfully,"If things weren't all ca-ca again between Tina and me, I could try it out. I always fancied playing 'Me Tarzan, you Jane', but I felt so damned silly in a loincloth." "If this is going to turn into another tale of your exploits, I think you'd better button it, Al. I have a feeling Cesario's ears aren't ready to hear it. But I'm sorry to hear about Tina. Did she go to her mother's again?" "Nah, worse than that, Sam. I went back through the imaging chamber door and she's married to Gushie. Again! Goodness only knows what difference you made to our world by being here; perhaps it's the old chaos theory getting outta hand. And you're still here; maybe you've got some more wrongs to put right before you leap out." "Why don't I show you and Al some of the sights of Ankh Morpork while you're here? Perhaps something will turn up." Sam smiled warmly at Cesario. "That seems a safe enough plan. You, or we, can always come back and check on Simmie later." So Cesario led Sam and Al out through the huge doors of the Unseen University and into the late morning haze of the great city of Ankh Morpork. A jumble of architectural styles all closely approximating a drunken architect's idea of Shakespeare-meets-dungeons-and-dragons met their startled eyes. "Wow! Whoever designed this must have been stoned out of his tiny mind." "Yes, but it has a certain...style and charm, Al. It's like....like Brigadoon in the Twilight Zone. 'Maybe the sun gave me the power, for I could swim Loch Lomond and be home in half an hour..'" Sam launched into the start of the song with gusto. "You can sing *too*?" Cesario looked up at Sam in wonder,"We prize singing in my home country. I don't know that song, though." He might have continued, but was interrupted by a sharp nasal voice coming from somewhere on his left. "Young man, *what* are you doing running around in wizard's clothing and who is your *unusual* friend?" Three pairs of eyes turned towards the speaker. A shapeless mass of black and grey slowly stood up and resolved itself into a bent pointy black hat, a bent pointy face and a black and grey garment that might have been a sort of dress a long time ago. She was also at some indeterminate age between sixty-five and ninety. "Oh, no. It's Nanny Ogg, the witch. I just hope she's in a good mood." "I'll be in a good mood, sonny, if I find out who *he* is." Nanny Ogg gestured towards Al unerringly with the broomstick in her right hand. "Well," Sam whispered,"Here's something new for you. I don't suppose you've ever had a grey haired girlfriend before." Al spluttered convulsively. "Never,"he said through gritted teeth,"Never in a million years, no way; not if my life depended on it, *pal*." Nanny Ogg came closer to Al. "You are a fine specimen, aren't you?" she licked her lips appreciatively,"And yet...you aren't solid, are you? What a shame, gorgeous. You could make an old woman very happy." By this time Sam was barely in control of the laughter that threatened to break out of him at any moment. Al had set his face into as bland an expression as he could manage, but it was almost a losing battle. "Madam....I regret that I have to leave you." And so saying, Al made a hasty exit through the imaging chamber door. "It's not fair. All the best specimens get away from me." Nanny Ogg flounced away, mounted her broomstick and was gone. Sam finally let out the laughter he'd been holding in one big explosion of mirth and Cesario joined in. They clung to each other, helpless with giggles. It wasn't until later that Sam accepted that holding Cesario had felt good. Very good. Too good. But for now, he broke away and gestured for Cesario to lead the way. Cesario gave Sam one last strange look, then carried on. His voice seemed to be temporarily out of control again. "I...um...I...excuse me,please," he cleared his throat noisily,"That's better. Why don't I show you the river Ankh, then we can stop at The Broken Drum for a tankard or two of ale. I could certainly use some liquid refreshment after everything that's happened this morning.+" Sam placed a friendly hand on Cesario's shoulder. "I know what you mean," then Sam's medical brain added,"But we'd better have something to eat, otherwise we might end up drunk." "I think being slightly worse for drink might actually help. You might be glad of it later." Cesario gave Sam another unusual look, then they carried on until they arrived at one of the great bridges over the river. Sam sniffed, expecting to receive watery type smells, but got absolutely nothing.# Then he leaned carefully over the parapet of the bridge to get a better view and nearly fell in with the shock. The Ankh sludged, semi-solid between it's banks. The effect was not unlike thick custard with lumps in, except that it wasn't yellow.@ Bits of unmentionable flotsam along with several dozen bits of wood oozed beneath him. < I bet it would be possible to walk from bank to bank without getting your feet wet,> Sam mused.% He pulled himself away from the side and accompanied Cesario to the opposite bank. In front of them was a small square which was a flurry of frantic movement. To Sam's eyes, it looked like either a small tornado or a large dust devil whirling around in the centre of the square, out of which bodies came flying periodically. Sam ran to each person in turn. Apart from bruising and shock all the casualties were in one piece and quite determined not to get back in the thick of things. He had just finished checking the latest man when the imaging chamber door opened and Al stepped out very gingerly. "Has *she* gone?" Two heads nodded at him,"Thank goodness for that! And, Sam don't even *think* about making any comments, or I'll get Rincewind to turn you into a toad!" "That would be a terrible sha...inconvenience." "Yes, Al. How on earth could I finish whatever I came here for?" Al conceded the logic with a nod of his head. "Anyway, what's going on here?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ + It is a matter of debate whether the ale available could in any sense be regarded as refreshing. It was certainly handy for providing alcoholic anaesthesia. # In fact, all the smells had long since fought each other to an untimely death. @ Well, not all of it, anyway. % You wouldn't have any feet left, of course, and the rest of you would be dissolved in the river along with them. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Seems like some sort of fight, Al. All I've got out of *these* guys are the words 'terrible barbarian' and 'it's not fair'. I may be pretty good at martial arts, but I'm not going in there unless the odds are heavily in my favour. Some of these fellows are *big*."* "Hey, look, the dust's clearing. Maybe we'll find out who's causing all this upset......Holy Toledo, I don't believe it!" Standing erect in the middle of the square with her back to them was the 'terrible barbarian'. She was all of five foot four or so, wearing skin tight thigh-length leather boots and an armour-plated mini. Down her back swung a long thick plait made up of three equal strands of blonde, brown and red hair. Al had moved closer on auto-pilot to get a better look, when she turned around. A sweet, heart-shaped face with huge dark green eyes and full red lips caught his attention for a moment, then his gaze moved down instinctively. Al's knees buckled and he dropped to the ground in sheer awe. Sam had to admit the sight was rather *arresting*. It was as if Pamela Anderson had started out built like Dolly Parton and *then* improved on the initial design. And everything was just about held in place by her strapless armour. She stopped dead when she saw Al. "You! You are the one who called me here! Your eyes and your face have haunted my dreams. I heard you when I lay on my pillow and I came at your summons. My sword is at your command, O great one. Tell me what boon you desire of me and I will perform it." By the end of the speech, Al was almost incoherent with desire and longing. His eyes blazed passion and fire, but somehow, by a supreme effort, he just about kept his voice under control. "Lady, if you only knew.....I would kiss your hand.." "And the rest," muttered Sam, who could see Al virtually drooling out of every pore in his body. The object of his attention stretched out her hand, which was trembling visibly. "I am called Sharon. You find me attractive?" "Do I ever.....Sharon, mio dolce amor......if only I could touch you..." "I'd have to throw a bucket of cold water over you if you could," Sam muttered. Cesario snorted with laughter briefly at Sam's retort, then a wistful look came into his eyes. "I'd give a great deal to have the object of my affection look at me with half that passion and longing." He sighed deeply. Sam noticed tht Cesario's voice had risen again and was softer and almost...almost feminine.+ "You have a *girlfriend*?" "Not exactly, no. The one I'm attracted to doesn't really know that I exist. From the moment I looked into those eyes and saw that smile, I was lost. And I daren't declare myself, for fear of rejection and disclosure...you see, I shouldn't really be a wizard." Sam turned Cesario to face him and looked into his blue eyes. "If your love is worth anything, then I'm sure she will understand *and* keep your secret. I know I would, for someone I cared for. If you're applying yourself to the training, I don't see any reason why they should throw you out." Cesario's eyes grew wide and slightly misty as Sam spoke. He seemed almost at the point of saying something when Sharon interrupted them. "Great wizards, can you help us?" Sam and Cesario turned to face her, rather self-consciously. Al was hovering near her, rapt in adoration. He tore his attention away from Sharon for a moment to speak to Sam. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ + If you haven't got it by now, there's no hope for you. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "It's like this.....Sharon wants to meet me in the flesh, so to speak. Apparently there's a restriction placed on her which prevents her from helping a non-corporeal person....I've consulted Ziggy, who gives a big no-no to leaping in to this place. The only other option she can think of is that of magic, which I don't trust, to be honest. Sharon says that there's a good chance that we may come across a spell to get you home too. Apparently this Rincewind guy has travelled to at least one other dimension in the past, so if there was an ideal person to leap into, you've done it, Sam." Sam pondered on this information for a moment. "Well, I can't say I'm happy with the idea. I've got no access to magic that I know of and Cesario's still learning to be a wizard. I don't know if any of the other wizards would believe us, so who do we go to?" "That's easy!" Cesario grinned under his beard,"We go back to the Librarian. He's offered his help, he has all the magical books and grimoires you could wish for *and* he's got Simmie. What more could you ask for?" "Cesario, you're a treasure! Al, that's got to be our best bet." "Okay, Sam. Just don't expect me to be all that keen on going back in the Library." "Albert, genie of many colours; I would gladly give up my sword and armour for one touch of your magical lips. Will you not dare the same for my sake?" Al quivered visibly, obviously arrested by the mental picture Sharon had just innocently painted for him. Sam's mouth quirked into a grin at Al's reaction. "God, if only I could take you home with me for a good long holiday. Sharon, belissima, if you can lay aside your considerable fighting skills for me, I will gladly follow you anywhere." So the four of them walked purposfully back to the Unseen University and made straight for the Library. It was very quiet and, strangely, a lot darker than when they had left it. Odd tiny rustling noises of books tentatively turning their own pages broke the silence. Sam stepped cautiously further into the gloom with Cesario. "Perhaps *you'd* better call your friend. She knows you better than me." "Alright, but can you come too? I've never quite had the courage to come in here unaccompanied."+ So Sam and Cesario went on together. After some minutes, Sam became aware that he was holding Cesario's hand. Gentle rustling noises from the left drew their attention. Sam and Cesario turned down an aisle of books to investigate. There, in the semi-darkness, was a tender scene. A pile of leaves, silk scraps and banana peelings cradled two orange-haired bodies who were asleep wrapped in each other's arms. Cesario and Sam drew closer together quite unconsciously. "It looks like they've got themselves all worked out. I sometimes wish that I had someone like that, who was a perfect match for me. Al's a great friend, my best friend, but it's not the same as this." Sam looked back at the scene with more than a tinge of regret. The Librarian began to stir. He looked up at Sam and Cesario and a form of recognition passed over his face. "Oook!" He seemed pleased to see them. Sam floundered for a response, but Cesario knew what to do. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ + Cesario had every reason to be cautious. The Librarian kept the books under control, but there were some grimoires that wouldn't say no to a meal of wizard if they got the chance. One could say it gave the spells more body. You can throw the rotten eggs later. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "It's alright, Sam. He understands human speech. Librarian, you offered us your help. We need it for Sam's friend, Al. He desires full existance in this dimension for a while so that Sam may find the way back to his home." "Oook, ook." The Librarian carefully rose from his bed, stroked Simmie's fur tenderly and followed them. Once he had been appraised of the full situation, the Librarian led them to the rear of the Library, where there was a flight of steps going down to a lower level. "Oook, ook, ook, oooook." "Oh, no. We haven't got Simmie here to translate. Any offers? Al??" Al punched at the buttons of the handlink halfheartedly. His eyes boggled when he got a coherent response. "Good grief! Apparently Ziggy's been working overtime on this one, with Rincewind's help. Our friend here is going to open the doors at the bottom of the stairs. We must stay put, but once the door is opened, you and Cesario have to say the forbidden number simultaneously. This will have the effect of 'revealing' anyone standing nearby. Ziggy says that word is the nearest approximation. There's a book down there," he gestured with his hand,"that no-one can touch, it's so powerful. After I arrive here safely, we should wait three days before attempting a retrieval." "By the Great Turtle! We're actually going to use the Necrotelecomnicon! It's certainly powerful enough, but it's a bit like using...I can't think of a relevant analogy, in my home country we would say an anvil to shoe a gnat." "I catch your drift, Cesario. We'll be very careful. Al, you have the Imaging Chamber door ready just incase this doesn't work." "Okay, Sam. And Sharon, if I have to leave you, believe me, I would much rather stay." Al blew her a lingering kiss and his eyes smouldered. The Librarian descended the steps, poised his paw on the doorknob and looked back at Sam and Cesario expectantly. "Cesario; ready? One, two, three...EIGHT!"