Title: The Many Worlds Interpretation

Author: A.A. Pessimal

Category: Discworld + Big Bang Theory Crossover

Genre: Humor/Sci-Fi

Characters: Hex, Ponder Stibbons, Leonard H., Sheldon C.

Summary: The wizards of Unseen University created a pocket universe. They learnt how to interact with it and to visit one particular planet. Where there is the USA. California. Pasadena. Caltech. Where other academically and scientifically minded people - with personalities as quirky as those of UU's wizards - strive to solve the mystery of the Big Bang. And then they met.

Status: In-Progress

Rating: T

Chapters: 42

Words: 255,300

Updated: 2018-08-12

Published: 2013-11-01

Downloaded: 2018-09-06

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9812307/1

Chapter 1: A Hot Dark State

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Ever since I started getting into "The Big Bang Theory", an idea has been gestating in my head. TBBT deals with a group of geeky friends, all of whom are unworldly to some extent, all of whom are on the Faculty of a major university, all of whom have interesting eccentricities and character quirks, one of whom is absolutely convinced of his intellectual superiority, and all are obsessed with the minutae of other worlds while not being fully cogniscant with the social intricacies of the one they actually live in. Hmm... wait a minute... this suggests a cross-over and Two Worlds Meeting.

Minor revision to clear up a few niggles.

Ponder Stibbons looked doubtfully at the contraption. It sat in the middle of the High Energy Building's floor, inert for the moment, looking purposeful and slightly sinister. It was obviously of Discworld design: full of the elaborate decoration and rococo intricacies of polished brass and ivory inlay that local design theory held was wholly necessary for the aesthetic appearance of any functioning machine. It looked like the result of a random explosion in a furniture makers which had on the way picked up accessories it quite fancied from a decorative metalworker's shop.

"What does it actually do, HEX?" he asked. The University's thinking engine occasionally did things like this. With access to the University's clacks account and financial authorisation codes, it had spontaneously sent detailed plans to the Street of Cunning Artificers, who had duly obliged and delivered a very large packing case – and a very large bill – to Unseen University that morning. Ponder was unsure how the Arch-Chancellor would react to seeing the bill, but as the University's de facto Bursar, he had developed certain self-preservation strategies. He had decided to bury the invoice somewhere in the Catering accounts under an anodyne ledger entry, as a very large sudden expense would not be out of place on the food and beverages bill. But first he needed to know what it was for. HEX would not have commissioned it without a reason.

++Professor Stibbons, we were discussing the theoretical implications of the Multiverse ++We speculated that it exists, and that Roundworld is only one manifestation of a greater whole++Indeed, witness the number of alternate paths which Roundworld has taken, and those necessary moments when we have had to intervene to restore its correct path++Those alternate timelines are not dead++They still exist in a limbo but we can recall them at will++All the indications are therefore that Roundworld may well be merely the jumping-off point for other, stranger, realities yet, but which we are unable to access++This vehicle is designed to bridge those gulfs and travel not just up and down Roundworld's timelines, but into alternate Roundworlds lying as close, but as hitherto unreachable, as the back of a shadow++

"All very metaphysical, HEX." said Ponder. "There are two seats, I notice. Ow!" He slapped the polished brass frame, and barked his shin on the rococo brass finials protruding from the front legs.

++I strongly suggest sending two research associates with appropriate skills++ said HEX. ++You will notice the control mechanism on the dashboard takes the form of an adjustable calendar++The large parabolic dish behind is designed to keep the whole unit inside a thaumically maintained bubble which will preserve optimum temperature and atmospheric pressure, in the event of materialising in an environment otherwise inimical to the maintainence of life++

Ponder, hopping on one foot, looked up into a large vertically mounted concave disc behind the crew seats. He nodded.

"Better find Professor Rincewind, then." he said.

++Actually, Professor Stibbons, your presence is mandated for this research trip++ said HEX.

Ponder looked round in surprise.

"Why me?" he asked.

++There are interesting intelligences out there in a place identified only as Caltech++ HEX said. ++It requires you to attend in person as you would be both an intellectual equal to them, and a person they would find sympathetic and congenial++ Professor Rincewind would, on this occasion, not cut it.++

Ponder sighed. At least he wouldn't be there if Ridcully chose to poke around and find the invoice for the machine. At that moment anywhere else in the unknown infinite Multiverse would be preferable.

"And who gets the second seat?" he asked.

HEX considered this.

++The intelligences I would like you to contact are easily swayed by an attractive woman's presence++ he said. ++A woman attractive in appearance, with intellectual abilities of her own, and who in extremis could act as bodyguard and security consultant, as the location of Caltech is not without risk to the unwary visitor++ HEX paused for a moment.

++I propose Doctor Smith-Rhodes++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sheldon Cooper sat in an ungainly hunched-over huddle on the left-hand side of the sofa. Leonard Hofstadter privately thought he looked more like the result of the unholy genetic splicing of a lemur and a praying mantis than ever. Next to him, Penny looked completely at her ease, as she reached for another serving of dim sum. Leonard sighed, trying not to stare. Why was this woman so god-damned, tantalisingly, painfully, unreachably, attractive? Why she chose to hang with the guys remained a mystery to him. It couldn't just be free Chinese food, surely? Raj Koothrapali sat to her left, mute and uncomfortable. It added to his private misery that Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz was perched on the seat-arm to his right, her pinball smile (1) glowing like a machine that was offering you a free play. Everybody liked Bernadette. Especially Howard, who adored her. Howard, who dressed and hair-styled himself to look like Ringo Starr's long-lost twin brother. He occupied a folding lawn-chair over to Leonard's left. And then there was...

Ungainly, frumpy, unworldly, shapeless in layers of cardigans, thick wooly skirt, heavy-denier tights and sensible clumpy shoes. Leonard knew underneath it all was a hell of a nice girl. It was just that Amy was in so many ways the ideal consort to Sheldon. He, Leonard Hofstadter, ought to know. He'd helped engineer getting them together, something he still felt vaguely guilty about. What if they finally worked out the practical, as well as the theoretical side, of the sex thing, and actually bred? What had he and Howard unleashed on the world? What sort of a Frankenstein would their joint genes produce? (2) He shuddered.

"So what did you guys actually do with that time-machine thing that was cluttering up the apartment?" Penny asked. Raj leaned over and mimed something to Howard, who nodded sympathetically.

"It's under a tarpaulin on Raj's apartment balcony." Howard said. "We put it up for sale again on Ebay but nobody bit. Even after relisting it twice."

"That's just as well." Sheldon observed. "I had a really bad nightmare about it." His voice was nasal, slightly whiny, with petulant overtones. It was not a voice you could warm to.

"Oh, sweetie!" Penny said, sympathetically. "I could hear your nightmare from across the hall!"

"Everyone can hear Sheldon's nightmares. From the other side of Pasadena." Howard said.

"What about me? I'm in the next room!" Leonard added, with feeling.

"At least it's outta here." Penny remarked. She still hadn't quite forgiven them for blocking up the stairwell on a morning when she was late for work. She still went the other way round the block to avoid the Middle Eastern family from the next building. "I'm in no hurry to see the thing again."

The boys had once bought a stage prop from a 1960's sci-fi movie; a piece of steampunk Victorian imagining of what a hi-tech 1890's time-machine should look like, all rococo flounces and superfluous ornamentation. It had looked good, but had been life-size, rather than the miniature model they'd been expecting.

"Nightmares." said Amy Farrah-Fowler, picking up on an interesting point. "I believe they are caused by neurochemical imbalance as the focus of brain activity switches during sleep from the higher cortex to the hindbrain and hypothalamus. This is the deeper reptilian level of the brain and as such is the seat of mankind's primal fears and desires. Freud may well have been partially right in postulating the existence of the id, but he made a fallacious assumption that this is a psychological rather than a neurochemical and neurological phenomenon."

Penny looked bemusedly at her.

"Sweetie, you lost me at the 'I believe' part." she said.

"Interesting" said Sheldon. "So you could provide experimental evidence to support this hypothesis by, for instance..."

"Extracting samples of your brain tissue during sleep and subjecting it to extensive laboratory testing." Amy said, absolutely poker-faced. "Obviously, protocol demands the experiment be replicable and it will need to be repeated."

"Why not? He's got brain tissue to spare." Leonard said.

"I was about to say 'subjecting me to EEG and cat-scans while in a sleeping state during the onset of nightmare.'" Sheldon said, hurriedly.

Amy reflected.

"That may work too." she eventually conceded. Her manner suggested that dissection was by far the preferred alternative.

Penny helped herself to a portion of skewered satay chicken.

"Well, at least we won't be seeing the freaking thing round here again, any time soon." she said.

Johanna Smith-Rhodes read through the briefing notes from HEX. Her Guild of Assassins training had taught her to assimilate complex information quickly. Her vocation as a teacher and zoologist also helped.

"Ja." she said, thoughtfully. "It all seems straightforward. HEX, this will not take too much time out from my regular work here?"

++I can return you here in subjective Discworld time at shortly after the moment you leave, regardless of how much time elapses on the version of the Roundworld you will be visiting++ HEX assured her. ++Time is subjective++

Johanna grinned. She loved adventures, and a simple contract to the University to provide escort services to Professor Stibbons should be straightforward enough. Escorting Wizards who required professional bodyguards on hazardous expeditions where they were ill-equipped to face more mundane perils was a valid use of her Assassin skills. Besides, for Ponder, she'd do this for nothing.

"End the mechine is devised to send us outside our normal space end time, to explore alternetive versions of the Roundworld which stend outside the normal timeline of the elternetive world? Thet which Ponder calls Roundworld Prime?" she said. "I think I comprehend thet."

++Everything you can imagine is real, in the Multiverse++ The phase of the Multiverse you are going to explore is real enough in its own space-time, but in other phases of the Roundworld, outside the consensus reality we call Roundworld Prime, it may only exist as imagination, as a fable, or a stage performance, or a romantic novel in the mind of a particularly imaginative person++Everything resonates++

Ponder took his place in the driver's seat and studied the controls. The control panel looked both deceptively simple and forbiddingly difficult. Ponder suspected it might operate in more dimensions than the usual three. Lights glowed in various colours, including the octarine, and some parts of the console were hard to make out, shifting slightly under his glaze.

++I have programmed the machine++Please clip the omniscope fragment to the console in the indicated place++ This will enable me to monitor and advise++

Omniscopes could, in theory, see anything, anywhere.(3) HEX used them for gathering information and "monitoring".

++Following certain regrettable and painful events involving Professor Rincewind, we learnt the advisability of having cover identities and appropriate personal identification for travelling on Roundworld++ I have researched and prepared cover identities and supporting documentation for both of you++Your names will remain the same for convenience++ Good luck and happy travelling++

Two thick buff envelopes materialised. Johanna insisted that she and Ponder took the time to read who they were going to be on Roundworld and familiarise themselves with the details. Eventually she pronounced herself satisfied. Again, she was intrigued with how Rimwards Howondaland, on her world, so closely overlapped Suid-Afrika, South Africa, on this new planet to her. She joined him in the passenger seat.

"Ready, HEX." said Ponder.

A bubble of octarine light formed around the machine and the two travellers. It shrank to a point and disappeared. HEX felt a sense of personal satisfaction and awaited the development of events.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And there's more space in the apartment now it's gone." Penny added. "And you guys aren't likely to foul up the stairwell again, any time soon."

She reached for the spring rolls, looking happy and satisfied.

Then there was a sudden explosion of light in various colours. Bernadette screamed. Raj screamed, even more shrilly and more high-pitched than Bernadette.

"What the Hell..." Leonard exclaimed. He closed his eyes, but the after-images flickered still across his visual field. This is freaky, he thought. Am I seeing more colours than the usual seven? What's in that kung-po sauce?

He heard Sheldon say "Interesting" in a very mild voice. Afterwards, Leonard Hofstadter could only describe the eighth colour he had glimpsed as a sort of greeny-bluey-turquoise... look, guys, by definition a colour nobody's ever seen before won't have a word to describe it... you've got to see it. It was like a shaped hole in space where a colour should be, you know?

"Howard, tell me you haven't reactivated that freaking security system? " Penny shrieked. "Can I expect an electrified steel-mesh net to drop on me any time soon?"

And then the light show faded and a humming noise Dopplered down to nothing and cut out.

Penny opened her eyes. To see that freaking god-damn time machine sitting there as if it had never left. With two people sitting on it. Raj Kooptrathali grinned contentedly. The fact two oddly-dressed strangers had materialised out of thin air and that he was now covered in various Chinese food sauces was immaterial. For both Bernadette Wolowitz and Penny had instinctively grabbed him for comfort and security, tightly wrapping themselves around him. For now, Raj savoured the moment, and silently put up a fervent prayer of thanks to Ganesh, the elephant-headed God of good fortune and prosperity.

A girl with striking red hair stepped out of the machine and scanned the room. Something about her carriage and poise implied competence, strength, and an ability to hold her own in a fight. Leonard also noted the very big machete on one hip and the coiled whip on the other. Howard Wolowitz noted that she looked like Indiana Jones' extremely cute younger sister.

"Wow." he breathed, involuntarily. "What world did you just step out of?"

Afterwards, Leonard would reflect that of all the possible ways in which First Contact could be made with people from a different planet, it had to be Howard, as good as hitting on the other civilization's female representative. Forget "Take me to your leader", it had to be "Are all the women on your world as hot as you?"

The girl smiled at Howard. Her smile had overtones of a very hot sunny place and for some reason, a lioness who has opted to play with her food.

"Hot?"she said. "Ja, it is true thet I come from a hot country. I hev heard your...Celifornia... is a pleasantly warm place. But I em a little confused. We intended to errive here in the year twenty-thirteen. But your clothing suggests the year is nineteen sixty-seven?"

Bernadette snorted with laughter.

"That's what I keep telling him, but will he listen?" she said. She had an appealing little-girl high-pitched voice. Johanna smiled reassuringly at her, assessing her as being no threat. She nodded at Ponder.

"I too hev found it difficult to change a man's dress sense." she said. "Perheps some things are universal?"

Seven people. Four men. All of whom appear to be no physical threat. I could floor them all with a single slap. Three women. This one is pleasant and likeable. The well-formed blonde girl, seated next to the woebegone-looking little man of Ghatian appearance, is physically strong and in very good shape. She could give me a little trouble if it came to a fight. Watch her. For the moment her mouth is hanging open and she appears shocked and astonished. As well she might.

The seventh person looked at Johanna and Ponder with only a look of mild dispassionate surprise on her face.

Assuming this is not a hallucination brought on by chemical poisoning induced by contaminated Asian food, Amy Farrah-Fowler thought, this could be a very interesting situation indeed. Are these people from the future of Earth, or could they be from a different planet altogether? And how will their brain chemistry differ from ours? What are the environmental variables? And her accent sounds just like that visiting research fellow from South Africa... a South African alien? Wasn't there a movie Sheldon took me to about aliens in South Africa?

The tall, spindly, one stood up, a look of excitement on his face.

"You... you are... you have... a time machine? And you've made it work?"

Ponder Stibbons smiled, stepped forward, and extended a hand.

"I feel we should introduce ourselves." he said. "I'm sorry to have burst in uninvited and to have caused you concern. My name is Ponder Stibbons."

His voice sounded educated English, Leonard noted. Two aliens, but one sounds South african and the other an Englishman?

"Professor Ponder Stibbons." Johanna prompted him. "If our information is correct, the people here are elso ecademics."

Sheldon Cooper sprang forward, quivering like an excited puppy being offered a new chew-toy. He grasped Ponder's hand and pumped it.

"Doctor Sheldon Lee Cooper. B.S., M.S., M.A., Ph.D., Sc.D.. Theoretical physicist. When Caltech finally realises what they've got and I'm given tenure, I should also become Professor Cooper. I look forward to that happy day."

Ponder nodded. "Pleased to meet you, Doctor Cooper. My colleague here is Doctor Johanna Smith-Rhodes."

Johanna smiled warmly. Sheldon spared her a brief nod. "And your academic field, Doctor Smith-Rhodes?"

Unseen University had conferred a honorary doctorate on Johanna. It had been in recognition of her work with a certain sort of animal life and had been bestowed by the Department of Cryptozoology, Pseudozoology, Parazoology, and Bloody Odd And Dangerous Animals.

"I em a zoologist. I specialise in enimel menegement, enimel psychology, end related issues."

"Interesting." Sheldon Cooper said, in a dismissive voice that suggested it wasn't and that soft sciences such as zoology did not interest him in the slightest. Johanna felt her fists itch.

"What do you know about monkeys?" Amy Farrah-Fowler asked.

"Where would you like me to start?" replied Johanna. "End to clerify the terms of reference here, we ere telking ebout true monkeys, which ere simian creatures who do not identify themselves es Great Apes?"

"Interesting choice of words." Amy observed. "I deal with monkeys in my research labs. If you're staying here for any length of time, you might wish to come and see them?"

"Errr..." Leonard Hofstadter said, uncertainly. Johanna turned to look at him. Something about him, his general look, his air of hangdog uncertainty, the slight build, the glasses, the nondescript dress sense... he reminded her strongly of Ponder Stibbons, as he'd been when they first met. She warmed to him.

"Doctor Leonard Hofstadter". Sheldon said, casually. "Although he's only an experimental physicist."

"Pleased to meet you, Leonard". she said, stepping over to take his hand.

"I was about to say..." Leonard looked down at her waist. "If you're going to go out in public in Pasadena or visit Caltech. Your... weapons..."

"Ah, ja!" she said, realising. The briefing notes had mentioned the local Watch and explained that Californian police did not look too kindly on open displays of armaments. And that they were all gonne-armed. She unbuckled and removed her sword belt. She went armed every day in Ankh-Morpork. It was needed there.

"I epologise if the weapons I cerry caused concern." she said, comfortable in the knowledge that only one of these people would be capable of causing her any sort of difficulty in a fight. "It was not my intention." She rested her weapons belt against a wall. Howard, the one stuck in a 1960's time-warp, interestedly moved to look closely. She took his arm restrainingly. To him, the grip felt like a steel vice and he froze up. This, he realised, was not a grip to shake off or be taken lightly.

"May I make it clear, Doctor Wolowitz?" she said, kindly. But very firmly.

"That's Mister Wolowitz!" Sheldon Cooper corrected her, without turning round. He was excitedly looking over the travelling machine with Ponder and firing questions.

Johanna noted a couple of obviously replica weapons hanging on the wall and the thought occurred to her that these people were perhaps overinterested in weapons that they would not know how to use and lacked the stamina and muscle-power to wield for very long. Similar weapon-nerds existed on the Disc.

"I would prefer it that nobody touches my sword-belt while it stays here." she said.

Howard grinned, almost comprehending. Being Howard Wolowitz, he then said:

"Ah, something like Aragorn in the halls of Meduseld? A weapon handed down by your ancestors, that nobody else may touch for fear of terrible death?"

Johanna's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"I know nothing of Eragorn, or this Meduseld". she said. "What I do mean is that there are pockets and pouches on thet belt which contain certain... preparations and essences. These cen be dangerous to people who do not know how to use them. If my mechete interests you, which by the way belonged to my great-grend ouma, end was hended down the femily to me, I have no objection to your hendling thet. But not now. Later, perheps?"

"Is an ouma like a mee-maw?" Sheldon Cooper asked.

"Do you mean a grendmother? Ja, same thing." She found herself admiring Sheldon's mind, whilst being aware of a sudden irrational desire to hit him. Hard.

"Your grandmother's sword?" the girl called Bernadette said, incredulously.

Whilst Sheldon informed everybody that ouma was the Dutch word for "grandmother" and was also used in the related Afrikaans language spoken in Southern Africa, and now he came to consider the matter, he wondered if ''mee-maw" was a corruption of that word and not just the Cooper family's private term of affection, the attractive blonde girl who did not wear glasses cane out of her shocked trance.

"Yeah, sure, sweetie. Back home in Nebraska I've got antique guns my grandmother gave to me. I can buy that."

She has weapon skills, Johanna thought. Interesting.

"My great-grandmother." Johanna corrected her. "It is a honoured weapon in my femily. My great grend-ouma killed four Zulus with it at the bettle of Isandlhwana end wounded et least es many others."

She kept a poker face as the replica sword collecters looked at each other. Being in the presence of a weapon that had actually killed people was something utterly outside their experience.

"But my grandmomma sure never shot anyone dead." Penny murmured. "She did wing a cattle-rustler, though. And shot my uncle in the butt, but hey, that was an accident."

Johanna smiled.

"We have things in common, then. Miss...?"

"Just call me Penny. Pleased to meet you!"

Penny moved across on the sofa and beckoned Johanna to sit down. She did so, feeling the dark-skinned man on her right squirming in what felt like embarrassment. It was hard to tell if he was blushing under his dark skin, but she suspected that he would be going visibly red if his skin were paler.

"Hello. I'm Johanna. We have not been introduced?" she said with a friendly smile, extending a hand.

The Ghatian-looking man wriggled in discomfort and said nothing. Johanna turned to Penny.

"I mean no offence. But your friend here. Has he the misfortune of being mute?"

Penny and Bernadette both spluttered with laughter.

"Hell, no! It's just that Raj has this thing where he can't talk to attractive women. Can't you, sweetie?" She leaned across Johanna and chucked him under the chin affectionately. Johanna noted in passing that these Celifornians appeared to have a better grasp of personal hygiene than most Ankh-Morporkians; she smelt a pleasant perfume and a warm, well-tended, body. This was good.

Raj mumbled something and stood up, moving to the kitchen area.

"I worried thet it might be because here, I am a white Rim..." Johanna caught herself, "Sed-Efrrrikan. There are bleck end coloured people who hev an issue with thet."

She watched Raj uncork a bottle, pour a glass, and drain the contents in one. He looked back over to the four women on and around the sofa, paused, and poured and drained another one. He looked visibly calmer and more assured.

"Raj has an interesting case of selective mutism." said the dowdy Amy. "Hell, I really want to dissect his brain sometime!"

Johanna said nothing, but gained a growing sense that this group of people would fit right in on the Discworld. She also wondered if this strange Amy Farrah-Fowler was part-Igorina. Or at least part Anirogi. (4) Igorinas generally took care to be better-looking than that, she thought, unkindly. Must be Anirogi, then.

Raj returned with a greater mood of purpose and self-confidence and resumed his place next to Johanna. She could distinctly smell some sort of alcohol, possibly a sweet wine.

"Dear lady." he said, surprising her. "I am sorry if my earlier behaviour may have struck you as impolite. I required something to help me relax. Doctor Smith-Rhodes, I am Doctor Raj Kooprathali. Astro-physicist. I gather you are from a different world?"

"Ja." she said. "Estro-physics is not unknown on my world. Ponder's University teaches it es a discipline. Elthough it has other names there."

She noted he had the sing-song inflection of the Ghatians. She frowned. There was a Ghat-like country on Roundworld, she recalled. Although its human population, to her, had been incidental. It had lions and tigers and elephants. These and other fauna had been enough for her.

"Speak to me of your world." Raj urged her. "To meet somebody from a different planet..."

"Where do I begin?" she said. "And is thet Agatean food I can smell?"

Penny indicated the table.

"Help yourself, sweetie." she said. "The guys can always send out for more."

Meanwhile, Sheldon Cooper was skipping up and down with excitement around the travelling machine.

"Can we go somewhere?" he urged Ponder. "Can we? Can we? Can we?"

"Calm down, Sheldon!" Leonard said, impatiently. "That's up to Professor Stibbons!" Leonard was achingly keen for a go himself. But he knew this incredible opportunity was in the gift of the visitors. He had to admit, they were not hostile. And one of them seemed to have a taste for Chinese food. He wondered if he should ring the Szechuan Palace and order more. It would be worth it.

"All these questions, Leonard! How does it work? What powers the device? Do you have a cloaked mothership in geostationary orbit around this planet right now, invisible to all our puny attempts at detection? Are there others who are even now visiting other cities and searching out the best academic minds? Can we see inside the mothership? So much to learn!"

Ponder smiled, seeking to restrain Sheldon Cooper's excited enthusiasm, trying to talk mainly to Leonard Hofstadter, who he sensed was the person with a mind most like his. And possibly the most grounded person in the room to deal with, both as intellectual peer and as group representative.

"And Penny, you're in my spot!"

Penny sighed.

"So I am, sweetie. But there's nowhere else to sit, we have guests, and you're all excited about getting your time machine back. One that works!"

Sheldon, it's getting late. We need to talk about finding our new friends a place to stay tonight." Amy thoughtfully extracted a nearly-new handkerchief from her sleeve and examined it with a frown. Johanna suddenly had a flash of recognition. The ungainly walk. The shapeless sensible clothes. If she piled that lank hair, would it shape up into schnecken over both ears...

"Doctor Farrah-Fowler?" she said. "Tell me, have you ever worked for the Post Office? You remind me of somebody I know at home."

"I had a summer job with the Postal Service while I was paying my way through sophomore school, yes." Amy said. "The whole dynamic of sorting and delivering mail struck me as a classic example of the stochastic process in action. Bringing order out of seeming chaos. I suggested many ways in which it could be improved. Unfortunately my line manager had a mental breakdown, and was not in a position to implement any of my suggestions."

Amy smiled.

"It was a happy time."

Johanna decided not to ask her if she was related to anyone called Maccalariat.

"Sweetie, are those the only clothes you've got?" Penny asked. Johanna was dressed in her usual serviceable veldt clothing, khaki tunic and trousers, with comfortable well-broken boots. She nodded. Penny looked back with an expression of deep sympathy.

"You look like you're dressed for a safari, hon. Have you got dollars? If not, Leonard's got a credit card."

Johanna she had checked its contents, the thick brown envelope had contained, amongst other things, five thousand U.S. dollars in notes, which HEX had acquired through mysterious means of his own. She had thought it wise not to inquire.

"I have eccess, immediately, to five thousand dollars. Will that be enough, do you think? I believe I can get more dollars, if they are needed."

Penny blinked.

"Hon, aren't you lucky you met me?" she said. "Sweetie, you can stay in my apartment tonight. It's just across the hallway. Tomorrow, we are going shopping! Bernie, Amy, are you in?"

"You bet!" Bernadette squeaked. She practically bounced in her place in anticipation.

"All set, bezzie!" Amy grinned. "Between us, we can get this gal looking Californian!"

She slapped a hand on Johanna's shoulder in an awkwardly friendly way.

Leonard nodded.

"No offence, Professor Stibbons, but your clothes are a bit... strange. If you're spending any amount of time here, you need to blend in. Between Howard and me, we should be able to dress you so that you don't attract attention. We're about the same height and build."

"Leonard!" Bernadette squeaked. "You want him to blend in and not look strange, and you're offering to let him borrow YOUR clothes? Or HOWARD'S?"

"And just don't introduce him to your mom, Howard. The poor guy's gonna be a prisoner for life. She's worse than Area 51!"

"hey, with my mom he'll wish he was locked up in Fifty-One with the other aliens." Howard replied.

Ponder accepted the offer of local clothing with thanks – he was quite taken with Leonard's shapeless olive-coloured parka with the blue hood. He wore similar things himself, after all. He thought Leonard looked quite stylish in it. He also made a quick decision.

"HEX, can you hear me?"

++I hear you perfectly, Professor Stibbons.++

The disembodied voice that appeared to come out of Sheldon Cooper's computer terminal made everyone jump.

"Hey!" Sheldon protested. "That's my laptop! You'd better have a good reason for that!"

++Hello, Doctor Cooper++It is a pleasure to make contact with a mind such as yours++Do not be alarmed++I have simply spoken to the admittedly rather primitive artificial intelligence that powers your machine, and it has allowed me to make use of it in order to communicate with you++When I leave, I assure you I will leave no trace and take nothing away with me++ By the way, there is an error in your calculations concerning seven-dimensional phase space in superstring accretions++I have taken the liberty of correcting it and I will take you through the mathematical logic, if you will permit me++

"I don't make mistakes in my math!" Sheldon exclaimed, indignant.

"Sheldon." Leonard said, mildly. "If an alien supercomputer far in advance of anything we can devise takes over your PC, reads your files, and tells you you've screwed up the math, if I were you I'd accept it with good grace."

Sheldon, all else forgotten, stomped angrily over to remonstrate with HEX.

Ponder Stibbons said, hurriedly, "HEX? Please power down and immobilise the device until we need it again? Then you can consult with Doctor Cooper. Thank you."

"Very wise." Howard Wolowitz said, as the lights on the Travelling Engine flickered and died and the residual faint hum faded to nothing. "Never leave your vehicle unlocked with the keys in the ignition. Not this car, and not around Sheldon. He'll want to go joyriding. Can't even drive a car, but give him a spaceship to play with and suddenly he's Captain Kirk."

"It's not that I don't trust you." Ponder said. "But some things are perhaps too big a temptation. If we lose this, or anything happens to it, we're stranded here."

"No mothership, huh?" Leonard said. "Just direct transfer from your world to ours?"

"The two are closely interlinked, in some ways we understand and in many ways we don't." Ponder admitted. "We all speak the same language, for instance. The close resonance allows for travel between worlds."

"You're not using a universal translator?" Howard exclaimed. He was surprised. And slightly disappointed.

"There are... similar things." Ponder said, deciding not to broach the topic of magic, just yet. He was intrigued by this world's casual acceptance that if for instance you needed light, you flicked a switch in the wall and it just, well, happened. Ponder had a few vague ideas as to what sort of magic fuelled this. Linguistic spells for mutual understanding would sound freakish to Roundworlders, he suspected.

"Come and eat." Leonard urged him. "We've got some Chinese food still. We can warm it up in the kitchen if it needs it. Looks like Sheldon's gonna be too busy to eat, what with arguing with your computer, so you may as well have his share. Then we can fix you a bed for the night."

Leonard paused.

"None of my business, I know, but are you and Doctor Smith-Rhodes, you know... errr?"

Ponder nodded.

"And you and Penny are... errr?" he asked. He'd seen the little signs too.

"On and off". Leonard admitted.

"Almost as good as science, isn't it?" Ponder said.

They looked at each other and laughed. In the background, Bernadette and Penny were trying to explain Roundworld clothing conventions to Johanna.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part Two beckons!

What is the real reason why HEX is so keen for Ponder Stibbons to make contact with a group of very bright academics and loveably dim human beings at Caltech?

Will downtown Pasadena survive a shopping trip that includes Johanna Smith-Rhodes?

Will Sheldon get punched?

Will the Caltech administration start asking awkward questions as to exactly which academic institution conferred a Professorate on Ponder Stibbons?

Coming soon!

(1) OK, it's not original. But the authors of The Big Bang Theory are demonstrably fluent in the language of science-fiction works. Red Dwarf is one of many references and shout-outs which are strewn liberally about. So giving Bernadette the famous pinball smile attributed to Lister's love interest Krissie Kochanski... it fits. You only have to look at Mellisa Rauch's character to understand the phrase. OK, so this makes Howard Wolowitz into Dave Lister. But like Lister, Howard went into space as a very unlikely astronaut only to do the equivalent of servicing the chicken-soup dispensers on the International Space Station, and like Lister, initial awe was replaced by a sensation of how bloody dull the view was. It all fits. Especially if you view Sheldon Cooper as a man whose quirks and OCD make Arnold Rimmer look normal.

(2) Sheldon Cooper's mother is called Mary. Sheldon's name is affectionately contracted to Shelley. Mary Wolstonecroft Shelley wrote the novel Frankenstein – Mary effectively created and gave literary birth to the monster. Go figure.

(3) The omniscope had once linked to something called a palantir in a place called Middle-Earth, a device enabled by its own world's technomancy to see everything, everywhere. It had caused no end of bother.

(4) The Rogi is the opposite of an Igor. They're good at dismantling people. Only not so hot at re-assembling them afterwards.

Chapter 2: The Drooling Autotrophs Exposition

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter two, Part one: the boys.

And we're back. Take a group of maladjusted and socially awkward academics. People with formidable intellects who still, nevertheless, are suspected of only being able to get their shoes on the right feet every morning only after two tries. Then introduce them to the cast of The Big Bang Theory. Engineer a meeting across the howling vast emptiness of space, time, and Wheeler-Bell probability space with a side of Copenhagen Interpretation garnished with EPR hypotheses and Bohr's Law. Add the sort of normally high-functioning women who are devoted to their men and have to guard them from harm. Also add a devious supercomputer which is mindful of the Prime Directive of the Roundworld. Stand back and watch.

The five guys gathered in a third-floor apartment at 2311 N. Los Robles Avenue, Pasadena, California, (1) sat in a tense almost-circle around the table. The Chinese food from earlier in the evening had been cleared away. Something even more important was grabbing their attention. Even Sheldon Cooper was silent, concentrating on issues of great importance.

Nobody spoke. The moment was tense. Finally Sheldon called "I play Broccoli Infestation. This blocks your road to the Mystic Tower of Doom with a sudden sprouting of the said nutritious and rather yummy edible vegetable which grows to a magically enhanced height as far as the eye can see. I therefore call, raise, and take your Barbarian Hero card, for as we all know, a manly barbarian hero used to a somewhat binding and cholesterol-heavy diet of red meat will sicken and weaken when confronted with his loathed nemesis, vegetarian food. I win!"

Ponder Stibbons sighed. He looked at the cards in his hand and reflected that after a fortnight in the wilderness, the barbarian heroes he'd met at home would happily eat anything. They were practical people who at that point would have shrugged, hacked down towering man-sized broccoli florets, and stewed them, looking forward to half a spit-roasted cow when they got back to the City. Still, this game was all about these peoples' perceptions of life on a world driven by magic...

He deliberately laid down a card. There were shocked gasps of awe from Leonard, Raj and Howard.

"I play Enchanted Bunny". Ponder said. Sheldon glared at him, but with a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

"Explain your reasoning, Professor Stibbons?"

"Rabbits eat broccoli. A sudden plague of enchanted magically-driven brassica should logically be countered and neutralised by a magically-enhanced rabbit. Err... my road to the Mystic Tower is now clear."

Ponder was from Ankh-Morpork. He had a layman's understanding of brassica. It was 75% of the city's staple diet, after all. And he was also aware of the continual war of cabbage farmer versus rabbit. And he was a magic-user in more ways than his hosts knew...

Howard gave a whistle of appreciation.

"He has got you there, Sheldon!" Raj said, grinning.

"That is the first time I have ever seen anyone, anywhere,  find a use for Enchanted Bunny." Leonard remarked. "Awesome play, Ponder!"

"I concede." Sheldon said. He paused, and appeared to struggle with himself. "Well played, Professor."

"Hey, there's a Mystic Warlords of Ka'a tournament on at the comic shop next week." Howard said. "There's a thousand-dollar first prize. You gotta play, Ponder. You're a natural! With you on our team we'll walk it."

Ponder reddened slightly. He wasn't used to lavish praise. He worked with Mustrum Ridcully and had to deal with the Faculty every day. This was new to him.

The guys had invited him into a game of Mystic Warlords to break the ice. Once Ponder had worked out the gaming system and made allowances for this world's perception of how a world running on magic operated, he had proven very good at it. The game was based on fighting and back-stabbing and competition between wizards, barbarian heroes, thieves, Assassins and other magic users. With Ponder's training as a wizard and his experience of Unseen University's paranoid infighting to draw on, it had been a pleasant theoretical exercise in magical combat. Only with no actual and potentially lethal spells being cast. He had found it quite pleasant. He wondered if a version of this game could be created for the Discworld, to sharpen the skills of student wizards in thinking quickly under pressure and selecting the appropriate spell for the situation. Casting real spells – but by proxy – and learning from multiple "deaths" how to get it right next time.

"Retreating to that tower you built with Instant Engineering." Raj said. "Amazing strategy! Just locking yourself into a magical tower to let your energy recuperate and sitting out a few rounds. How did you think of that?"

"Err.." Ponder said. Building an impregnable magical tower was the default position for a wizard under stress. He'd done it out of some primal instinct that bypassed the conscious centres of his brain. It was something he hadn't needed to think about. A little thought in a back of his mind prickled for attention, suggesting to him that his own version of the wizard's tower, his power-base and source of prestige and reputation, was the High Energy Magic Building.

Would it hurt if I took Dr Cooper or Dr Hofstadter back to the University with me and showed them the HEM? he wondered. With Sheldon, I could always explain to him that this is the, er, Mother-Ship he's been going on about. I'll consult with HEX...

It was well after midnight, but nobody seemed in any hurry to find sleep or even go home to their own rooms. This was normal for research wizards at Home, who would happily pull all-nighters fuelled by pizza or pies from the Night Kitchen. Ponder felt relaxed among a group of kindred spirits. It was like being with the old crew, Adrian Turnipseed, Drongo, and the rest.

Sheldon was meticulously and fussily gathering the Mystic Warlords of Ka'a cards together and sorting them into their tins.

"Doctor Cooper, where could I acquire a set of these cards?" Ponder asked. "I'd q uite like to take one home with me."

"Comic Book Shop." said Howard Wolowitz. "You gotta join us there, Ponder. There's this great guy called Stuart. Hey, bring a couple more girls from your homeworld and introduce them. Gets you discount!"

"Any girls." Leonard said.

Ponder thought of Big Dave, who ran the Pins, Stamps and Agatean Comic-Books Emporium at home. He had similar problems with attracting girls into his shop. For some reason they were deterred from going into a place that smelt of haphazard personal hygiene and was full of socially awkward males. He anticipated this would be a Roundworld version of the same. Then he thought of the girls he knew best on the Discworld. For unavoidable personal and professional reasons, they were mainly witches and Lady Assassins. He speculated briefly on the sort of little faux pas that a Howard Wolowitz might – very briefly - perpetrate to a young witch of the Lancre school, or to, for argument's sake, Miss Alice Band. They were, in the main, not temperamentally inclined to hang out at Dave's. He restrained a shudder.

"All in good time, gentlemen." he said. "What other social games do you play?"

"Are you familiar with Jenga, Professor Stibbons?" Sheldon Cooper asked. Ponder blinked. Jenga on the Discworld was played by the more spatially aware trolls, who used massive rectangular blocks of granite. By order of the Patrician, they were constrained to play it in wide-open spaces where a toppling stack of a hundred half-ton stone blocks would not endanger neighbouring buildings.

"That's best with more players." said Leonard. "A shame the girls called it a night and went over to Penny's".

Rajesh Kooprathali stirred.

"Professor, Doctor Smith-Rhodes was explaining to me about your homeworld." he said. "As you know I am an astro-physicist and this is my area of professional expertise. Even so, I find it incredible!"

Leonard nodded. "We read about visitors from other worlds who may or may not have visited people here." he said. "There's a school of thought that they conceal themselves by deliberately talking about things that are so... incredible. That the people they talk to will never be taken seriously and get laughed out of court if they go public. The visitors get to make contact and find out about us, but they deliberately make themselves ambiguous and make it look as if the people they've contacted are deluded, making it up, or imagining it. This Discworld of yours..."

++It exists, Doctor Hofstatder.++ HEX said, from out of thin air. ++Please be assured, it is no sophisticated strategy to inculcate disbelief by deliberately spreading half-truths and nonsensical propositions.++ Had I wanted to do that, I would not have chosen scientifically trained intellects++ Rather, we would have materialised to an unsophisticated farmer in Nebraska with no discernable scientific training++

There was a silent pause. Then Sheldon said

"But Penny's  an unsophisticated farm-girl from Nebraska with no discernable scientific training!"

++Bad example.++ said HEX. ++But she voluntarily associates with the four of you. ++And she has a good, albeit untrained, mind++Her friends are scientifically trained++ And scientific education, Doctor Cooper, is where you find it++

"But understand my position." Raj said. "I am in a dream situation for an astro-physicist. I have made contact with intelligences from a different world. Knowledge I glean from you could revolutionise my profession. It could make my academic name. And then I discover there is no way I can tell anybody about it without destroying my intellectual and professional credibility, because you claim to be from a flat earth!"

"Which sits on the back of four elephants. Which in turn ride on the back of a giant turtle." added Howard. "How the photon does it work?"

"I would have thought you of all people would immediately believe in their Discworld." Sheldon Cooper said, looking at Raj. "After all, exactly the same cosmological myth underpins the Hindu religion, of which you are a member? In which the turtle Kurmarajah is created by fiat of the god Vishnu and in some versions carries the world supporting mountain Mount Meru, and which in others supports four..."

"Sheldon, you ass, I've told you before not to try and explain my own religion and culture to me!" Raj retorted, heatedly. "It's bloody annoying! Do I explain Christianity to you?"

"There is no need, although I appreciate the offer to reciprocate." Sheldon said, unaffected by his friend's flash of anger. "I have my mother for that."

"And, Professor Stibbons, that is the other part of my difficulty." Raj said, looking woebegone. "As a Hindu, the idea of the world-turtle makes sense to me and I believe it to be true as a Hindu, although the astro-physicist I became tells me it is so much bull-crap."

"Don't you mean sacred bull-crap?" Howard said, slyly. Raj glared at him.

"Sorry!" said Howard.

++Doctor Koothrapali, would you care to step close to the computer monitor?++ HEX asked. ++Because of a flight outside of the Discworld's atmosphere which took~~~~recording devices~~~ with it, I am able to show you images from my database++Please observe++

The four Caltech scientists clustered around Sheldon's lap-top. The screen flickered, and resolved itself into a fuzzy image which gradually resolved itself into a very clear picture of Great A'Tuin swimming through space. Three of the four world-elephants were visible from this angle, supporting the clouded shape of the Discworld on their shoulders, the Rimfall cascading and glittering with the eight colours of the Discworld rainbow.

Again, Leonard blinked, seeing the shaped ragged ribbon in space that indicated the eighth colour, the octarine. It was a thing of amazing beauty.

"Is anybody else seeing what I'm seeing?" he murmured, in awe.

"Could be clever Photoshop." Howard frowned.

"Sure, if Photoshop can create an eighth colour nobody's ever seen before." said Leonard, who now believed.

"What are you talking about, Leonard?"

"You can actually see the Octarine?" Ponder burst out. I'll have to get Leonard to visit the Discworld. It could be he's a natural wizard and it's latent over here. We can test him for magic.

"Hey, don't go dissing my religion by saying holy Vishnu did it with CorelDraw and Photoshop! Praised be the name of Vishnu!"

"How does the water stay on?" demanded Howard. "Hey, if it's continually cascading over the sides like that, you're gonna run out of seas and rivers and junk."

"We're not sure." Ponder admitted. "We believe Arrangements Are Made."

"Isn't it obvious, Howard?" demanded Sheldon Cooper. "Evidently it works like Middle-Earth, which in its origins was a flat plane akin to this Discworld. We are told that before the fall of Numenor-Atalante in the days of the last King, who fell into evil and worshipped Sauron, thus necessitating the Valar to lay down their stewardship and call upon the One, who refashioned Middle-Earth into a more conventional geoid, that the Vala Ulmo, the Lord of the Waters, assisted by his legions of servants, laboured to recycle the water through the hidden caverns of the Earth back into the seas and rivers."

Sheldon paused, looked dissaprovingly down his nose at Howard, and added "It's little slips like this that explain why you haven't got a doctorate, Mr Wolowitz."

"Chandogya Upanishad, tat tvam asi..." intoned Raj. "Hari Om! May my limbs, speech, Prana, eye, ear, strength and all my senses grow vigorous. All and everything is the Brahman of the Upanishads. May I never deny ..."

Ponder, caught between competing religions, coughed uncertainly. He noted the whiteboard towards the back of the room.

"Gentlemen, if I may have your leave. How do these pens work... ah, I've got it. Clever devices! You may be asking how our Discworld exists. I will concede it looks a little odd by the standards of those used to spherical Roundworlds. But let me explain a concept graphically..."

Ponder drew a typical graph with x and y axes. He then drew a wavy line from top left to bottom right.

"Hey, that's the Hertzpring-Russell curve!" Raj said, snapping out of his religious epiphany. Ponder nodded.

"Quite so, Doctor Kooprathali." Ponder said, making a mental note of its name on this world. "It maps out the distribution of types of suns and by extention, the predicted types of planetary bodies likely to accrete around them. Now we know everything stemmed from a threshold event sometime right at the absolute very beginning of time and space."

"The Big Bang." Sheldon Cooper said, with reverence.

"Quite so, Doctor Cooper. Now imagine suns and planetary bodies accreting from the debris matter distributed by this trigger event. As the accretions grow larger, gravity becomes a stronger force in and around them. In the manner of molten lead abruptly cooled by dropping it into water in a hot-tower, we can predict that the accretions will become, in the vast majority of cases, roughly spherical. This enables us to superimpose a standard statistical probability curve over the Hertzpring-Russell line. In this case, the Bell Curve. We can say that probability dictates that the vast majority of planetary formations fit in here, where the bell bulges tallest. But this leaves the two extremes of the bell curve – here and here. Not every world is a spheroid."

Ponder was in his element. With minds much like his own, which thought and debated in the same way, and which liked nothing more than to debate an abstract notion until the cows came home. But something was missing here.

"Leonard?" he asked. "Your world is incredibly advanced. You must have discovered... pizza?"

Leonard Hofstadter got the point immediately.

"I'll order some in." he said, reaching for his cellphone. "What's your preference, Ponder?"

Ponder grinned. Now the all-nighter was complete.

And across the hallway, the girls had been breaking the ice in their own way...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) This takes place in a different phase of the Multiverse from the Roundworld we know and which the wizards of Unseen University normally visit. The fact that this is, from our perspective, an alternate Earth is conclusively proven by the fact that on our phase of the Earth, N. Los Robles Avenue exists in Pasadena, California, U.S.A. But its street numbers end just after 2000. The BBT continuum demonstrably exists in an alternate Earth with a far longer N. Los Robles Avenue. It's also one made poorer by the unfortunate (for its residents) fact that Sir Terry Pratchett, if he exists there, never became an author. Or else the Discworld would be referenced on the TV show and the boys would know who Ponder Stibbons is. Thanks to the location field-trip referenced on the BBT Wiki, for facts about N. Los Robles Avenue, Pasadena, CA.

Next: how the girls broke the ice. Hairstyling and mutual grooming may be involved, as well as nostalgic tales of life on the family farm. The Nebraska Junior RodeoCchampion meets the Natal Province Whip Skills Under-Thirteen champion.

Chapter 3: The Princess Leeia Excitation

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter two, Part two: the girls.

And we're back. Take a group of maladjusted and socially awkward academics. People with formidable intellects who still, nevertheless, are suspected of only being able to get their shoes on the right feet every morning only after two tries. Then introduce them to the cast of The Big Bang Theory. Engineer a meeting across the howling vast emptiness of space, time, and Wheeler-Bell probability space with a side of Copenhagen Interpretation garnished with EPR hypotheses and Bohr's Law. Add the sort of normally high-functioning women who are devoted to their men and have to guard them from harm. Also add a devious supercomputer which is mindful of the Prime Directive of the Roundworld. Stand back and watch.

We have just seen how three out of four of the guys, for reasons ranging from a child-like wonder fuelled with science-fiction works, to a deeply ingrained religious conviction, have accepted the existence of the Discworld in its own remote little niche of time and space and probability. The fourth is wavering, but the sheer weight of circumstantial evidence is gradually tipping his pragmatic engineer's mind to the point of acceptance.

Meanwhile over the hallway in apartment 4c, four girls are also engaged in conversation as to the most important issues of three-dimensional spatial awareness within the fourth dimension of time. But first a final glimpse of five scientifically-minded males debating the wonders of observational epistemology allowing them to make sense of the most mysterious thing in their universe...

Ponder Stibbons, HEX and Sheldon Cooper were nosily debating the precise nature of the quantum imperative that had brought the visitors here, in between frequent pizza-breaks. Ponder had discovered after close scrutiny of the menu that pepperoni with jalapeno was the nearest equivalent to a Klatchian Hot, and privately judged the taste to be superior to home. He swallowed his bite, and suggested they go back to first principles, with ∂ = h(ƒ – ƒ0). , which, as everyone knows, led inexorably to Eⱪ = hƒ - ∂ = h(ƒ – ƒ0). Sheldon considered this, and then riposted with the irrefutable proposition that the threshold frequency, f0, is the frequency of a photon whose energy is equal to the work function: it therefore followed on that at the quantum level, the threshold frequency on its own was insufficient to liberate an electron from the parent atom, which had repercussions at both the micro sub-atomic level and the macro level of the real world we inhabit. He then took a bite of his Giacomo special with buffalo chicken wing and Pringles.

Leonard sat back and watched the intellectual sparring, quietly following the arguments and willing Ponder on: the guy from the Discworld seemed to be more than holding his own with Sheldon. Were any judges watching, he thought it might well go to a points decision after fifteen rounds.

Meanwhile, Howard and Raj were examining the travelling machine. Leonard had no worries: he suspected the device had been security-locked to an extent that not even Howard's admittedly gifted (if warped) engineering skills could unlock.

"Freaky." Howard said. "this black glass panel on the dashboard. I could swear it's looking back at me. There's something big in there. Hey, HEX. Is this some kinda coiled flux capacitor that drives your TARDIS?"

++Time And Relative Dimensions In Space, Howard?++I like the acronym++It is both descriptive and concise++I am computing its origins++ Stand by++ Ah, it is copyright to a Mr Terry Nation and the British Broadcasting Corporation++ It is interesting that in this phase of the Roundworld, the Time Lords are only an entertaining theatrical construct, an imaginative fiction, if you will.++

HEX paused.

++Howard, you are looking into an omniscope.++ At present it is set for Abyss, which is its default state++And anyone in tune with advanced notions in thaumomancy will know that indeed, the Abyss, when you stare into it, looks back at you.++ The omniscope is a mirror on all worlds.++It is theoretically possible to use it across the infinite span of the Multiverse and view anything, anywhen++

Leonard, who knew what was coming next, counted to ten. He got as far as five.

++And no, Howard.++I cannot set it to "Penny's Bedroom" for you. ++This would be unethical, and besides, the local computer intelligence advises me that after the issue with the teddy bear and the web-cam, Penny was extremely emphatic in her desire that there be no repetition. ++ Besides, I have no available sensors in her apartment++ Her computer terminal is switched off as are most other electronic devices with a screen++ I am therefore blind and deaf to events in Apartment 4c++

"Well, you can't blame a guy for asking" Howard said, sheepishly. Then a little point nagging for attention kneed his hypothalamus in the groin and made a takeover bid for the higher cortex.

"HEX – did you say Time Lords?"

++I did, Howard.++Do you wish to know more?++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The four girls had retreated over the hall to Apartment 4c. Johanna had washed – such a bathroom! - and was wearing nightclothes borrowed from Penny – such comfortable clothing! -, who had promised to put her regular clothing through the wash and lend her things to wear on their shopping trip tomorrow. Some of her additional personal accoutrements had caused a small stir.

"Hon, does everyone on your world wear so many weapons?" Penny had asked, confronted with sheathed throwing knives strapped to both arms and upper thighs. Penny had had a moment's doubt about this, but Johanna, judging herself safe, had happily unstrapped them and placed them casually on the table. Alongside the other throwing knives she had retrieved from her boots.

"Well, I cerry more than most." she had admitted. "I em a teacher..."

"Wow, they say American high schools have a problem." Bernadette had squeaked.

"What sort of highschoolers do you teach?" Amy asked. She has an obsession with weapons. Interesting. Are we dealing with a borderline psychopath here? Sociopathically maladjusted? But she seems so normal. Oh, let me get this girl in a CAT-scan!

"Et the Guild school." Johanna said. "We hev pupils of both sexes from eleven to eighteen. My girls ere generally pleasant end well-edjusted. But the place where I live is inherently dangerous. You hev to keep your wits ebout you on the street."

"Sounds like Watts or Compton. Or the old Jungles down East Third." mused Bernadette.

"Just knives and that freaking great sword?" Penny asked. "You've not upgraded to guns?"

"Lord Vetinari does not ellow gonnes." she said. "They are known, ja. Periodically a clever person believes he or she is the first person to hev invented them. But they very quickly end up in a position where they no longer can invent clever things. Or indeed breathe. The Watch ere good."

"The Watch. Like a police force? Like the LAPD?"

"We have Sam Vimes, who commends the city Watch. I myself em a pert-time policewoman. It is interesting work. Especially in the Shades end the more unbiddable immigrent areas."

"The Shades. Bad part of town, sweetie?"

"Bernadette hes mentioned Watts end Compton. From the way she said it, these ere the Shades of your city?"

"Oh God, are they bad!" Penny agreed. "You avoid going to Watts, sweetie. If you have to drive through Watts, keep every door locked, all the windows rolled up and a weapon where you can reach it."

Johanna nodded.

"Exectly like the Shades, then. Only with gonnes? There is no gonne-control in this country? "

Penny breathed in. Johanna had the uneasy feeling she'd dropped a faux-pas.

"Sweetie, back home in Nebraska, that's a dirty word. Mention "gun-control" in Omaha and at least ten people are gonna shoot you, just to give you a little hint that they don't want none."

"Speak to me of this Nebraska?"

Penny did, with feeling and a little nostalgia. Johanna nodded.

"I em from the ferming country myself." she said. "The nearest town of any size is perhaps a day's ride away. I grew up on a veldt ferm in the sweet veldt-grass country. My femily ere self-sufficient in most things, end live reasonebly well by selling or trading the surplus."

"Two farm-girls together, sweetie!" Penny exclaimed, offering Johanna a fist bump. After some hesitation, Johanna fist-bumped.

"Tell me." she said. "Sheldon Cooper. Efter being in a room with him for five minutes, I honestly wented to punch him. Is this normal or is it just me?"

Bernadette spluttered. Under Amy's stare, she tried to go innocently poker-faced.

"Well, sweetie," said Penny, thoughtfully, "Most people kinda don't wait as long as five minutes. Trust me on this."

"Ah. It is a common reaction, then. But whet held me beck. Pertly the mission we ere on. Pertly because Sheldon reminds you of... well, an enimel cub. A puppy or a kitten it would be cruel to be unkind to. A baby enimel who does not know the rules yet."

"Soft kitty, warm kitty..." hummed Penny. Johanna found herself knowing the tune. She regressed to six years old.

"Weinig bal van bont..." (3) she hummed, remembering her old ouma.

"Gotta be in English, hon. Sheldon would call you on that. And we gotta do it start to finish with no interruptions."

They started again, taking the lines in turn between the four of them. Oddly, they felt closer afterwards. Penny fetched a bottle of wine and four glasses.

"Mijn ouma. Ouma mijn. Mi'ouma. Mee-maw. It fits. Somebody imperfectly remembering the Von.. Afrikaans – could contrect the phrase to mee-maw. Although it is true thet in Sto Ke... Holland... a grendmother is elso an opie."

"See what I mean?" Penny said, uncorking the bottle. "Sheldon gets under your skin. Like some kinda itchy rash."

"He has a fascinating mind." Amy Farrah-Fowler said. "I find his company to be very intellectually stimulating."

"Well, I'm so glad he manages to stimulate something of yours, sweetie." Penny said. She kept a perfectly straight face. Amy flinched.

"So this shopping trip we're going on tomorrow?" Bernadette prompted.

"Four of us bezzie girls on a mission." Amy said. "Seriously cool!"

"Just that we need to know your sizes, Johanna." Bernadette added. "For instance, what size brassière do you take?"

"Hey, good point!" Penny said. "If you don't have good underwear, you got nothing. It's gotta fit well and feel good. You agree, Bernie?"

Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz was only just five feet tall. But she was perfectly proportioned, with, Johanna could not help noticing, two parts of her being proportioned more perfectly than the rest. She nodded emphatically.

"Good for the guys, too! Howie appreciates good underwear."

Johanna picked up the wine bottle and noted it was a Kleine Draken Chardonnay from the Zandwych vineyards in the Western Cape.

"A Sed-Efrrikan wine." she said, approvingly. It was as good as anything from home. Penny smiled.

"Taste of home, sweetie? I got this from work. We usually have a few foreign wines for people who prefer them. Most of our customers prefer local Californian wine, though. It's cheaper, for one thing."

"Thank you." Johanna said.

" Brassière size?" prompted Amy. She sounded a shade too eager, Johanna thought. Ah well, she thought. When in Klatch...

"I take a medium, I think." Johanna said, vaguely.

"Excuse me?" Penny said, taken aback.

"A medium size. Brassières in my world come in three sizes, small, medium, end large." She paused, and thought of Sybil Vimes.

"End extra-large."

She paused and thought again of Queen Margrat of Lancre, who she had met once.

"End there ere liberty bodices for those who ere not especially favoured end hev little to control. Very young teenage girls, end the more petite adult. Myself, I em too big for a small, end too small for a large. So a medium it must be."

Penny and Bernadette sat with lower jaws falling open as Johanna explained the approximate nature of bra-fitting on the Discworld. (4)

Penny shook herself, disbelievingly.

"Sweetie, let's get you properly measured." she decided.

Amy Farrah-Fowler had been hastily digging around in her bag. To nobody's surprise, she brought out a tape-measure.

"Ooh, me, me, me! Let me do it!" she said, bouncing up and down in excitement. Johanna wondered about this. She was cosmopolitan. She knew about the Blue Cat Club and had socially visited with a party of girls on the quaffing circuit. She also worked closely with Miss Alice Band. She sighed, and let the excitedly smiling Amy take her measurements. However, she still felt Amy lingered slightly too long, for her comfort, over measuring her.

"Amy, sweetie? You don't need to weigh them up by hand to work out cup size." Penny said, hurriedly. "I make that a 34C."

"Any scientific measurement should be replicable and repeatable." Amy stated. "Can I do it again?"

"No, Amy!" Penny and Bernadette chorused together.

Johanna felt the strange Amy looking fondly at her.

"I really, really, like your hair." Amy said. "The way you had it braided when we first saw you."

"That braiding style is common in my native country." Johanna said. A spirit of mischief tapped her on the shoulder. She felt she somehow had to get even for the suspicious breast-fondling, but in a non-lethal manner. For private amusement.

"If you so wish, I cen show you. Your hair is long enough."

Amy's hair was long, lank and very slightly greasy, but many women on the Discworld had worse, up to and including colonies of livestock. Johanna was not deterred by this and got to work, giving a running explanation as to what she was doing and why.

"While there are also finer end more complex Quirmian... French... braids, a good stert is to create two long braids in the Kerrigian... Dutch... style, and heving done so, what I cen do now is roll end pin them in various weys. Penny, hev you got pins? Thenk you. Now if I roll the braids up just so, end secure them here, above each ear... this is called schnecken in my lenguage."

She sat back to admire her handiwork. Yes, there was a resemblence... Amy Farrah-Fowler with her hair done up like that, a coiled braid pinned over each ear, was a young Maccalariat. Johanna smiled to herself.

Amy looked at herself in a mirror and gasped with pleasure.

"Johanna. Is it possible to... you know, lower the coils so they sit on my ears? I am thinking of Sheldon here. There is a particular look I believe he would be susceptible to. One that might excite his lower cerebral cortex and stimulate a certain physical reflex."

"Hey, I can see that!" Penny said. "What do you think, Bernie?"

"Oooh, just don't go near my Howie looking like Princess Leeia!"

"This isn't meant for Howard. Believe me!"

Johanna turned to Penny, who filled her in.

"Sheldon and Amy have been sorta dating for seven years. In all that time they've never..."

"What, never?"

"Never."

Johanna shook her head. "Show me how to edjust the coils. Do you hev pictures of this princess?"

A photo of Carrie Fisher was provided in her iconic role, in the trademark long white dress. Johanna understood.

"You would dress like this to provoke a reaction from Sheldon, yesno?"

"She also wore a minimal golden bikini." Amy said. "If necessary, I would wear that."

"Bad idea, sweetie." Penny said, hurriedly. "You gotta keep some things mysterious for your man." She showed Johanna another photo of Princess Leeia, this time wearing a lot less and chained, as far as Johanna could tell, to a repulsive slug-like creature. Her mind boggled at the thought of a young Maccalariat dressed in so little.

"The long white dress is more subtle, certainly." Johanna agreed. There was perhaps only so much bared flesh a man as rarefied as Sheldon Cooper might tolerate. And if the bared flesh belonged to Amy Farrah-Fowler, it might well provoke the opposite reaction.

"We'll have to think of bedding down soon." Penny said. "I guess the guys across the hall are set for an all-nighter. Howard won't be coming over here to collect you any time soon. So you're both welcome to stay."

"I should drive home." Amy said. "Bernadette, if we assume Howard is too engrossed in things to remember he is married to you, I could drive you home, and he can follow on when he's ready?"

"Sounds like a plan!" the cheerful Bernadette agreed. "So we meet here tomorrow, around ten-thirty?"

" I need to find a Princess Leeia costume." Amy remarked, her face set. "Perhaps tomorrow, Stuart at the comic shop could put me in touch with one."

"Just... don't go into a shop full of comic geeks looking even remotely like Princess Leeia". Penny advised her, poker faced. "You'd cause a riot, sweetie."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) I'm not sure if the equations will translate to the FanFic format. They say in the Science of Discworld books that every equation you put in halves the readership of your work. In which case, as I've quoted three, this is a bit of an "Oh dear" moment. But this one is to do with Planck's Constant, which according to my background reading is a basic building-block of quantum theory and I hope I've used more or less accurately in the context. Goodness knows what the Discworld name for it is: the One Short Plank theory of quantum mechanics? Still, it's all about quantum, and mathematics, logically, should be an unchanging universal language across the Universe. NASA used maths and chemistry for this reason as part of the SETI thing, reasoning that an alien civilisation should be able to do the math, or realise they were looking at a schematic for simple chemical reactions involving water.

The quoted equation should read something like Eⱪ = hƒ - ∂ = h(ƒ – ƒ0). Although I'm not sure if the Greek letter in the middle is a ∂ or a φ or something else. Probably a φ. Ponder should be familiar with Ephebian letters, anyway.

(3) Weinig... (trans) "Little Ball of Fur". But you'd worked this out, hadn't you?

(4) The system known today, of sizing bras by a combination of chest measurement and a letter of the alphabet to denote cup size, was not introduced, (and then only in a basic form,) until 1932. It did not become commonplace and standardized until the late 1940's – the 1950's in some nations. (There, I selflessly research these things so you don't have to). The Discworld largely reflects Earth, especially a combination of Great Britain and the USA, as it was in the Industrial Revolution-Edwardian period – no earlier that 1800 (albeit with a few pockets stuck in much earlier times) and no later than about 1910. It follows on that sizing women's underwear would be as approximate and haphazard as Johanna is relating here.

Chapter 4: The Linnaean Clasification Fallacy

Books » Discworld » The Many Worlds Interpretation

Author: A.A. Pessimal

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter two, Part two: the girls.

And we're back. Take a group of maladjusted and socially awkward academics. People with formidable intellects who still, nevertheless, are suspected of only being able to get their shoes on the right feet every morning only after two tries. Then introduce them to the cast of The Big Bang Theory. Engineer a meeting across the howling vast emptiness of space, time, and Wheeler-Bell probability space with a side of Copenhagen Interpretation garnished with EPR hypotheses and Bohr's Law. Add the sort of normally high-functioning women who are devoted to their men and have to guard them from harm. Also add a devious supercomputer which is mindful of the Prime Directive of the Roundworld. Stand back and watch.

Sheldon has seriously vivid bad dreams. Everyone gets to hear about them.

And eventually, everyone slept. Ponder Stibbons, who was absolutely banned from entering Sheldon's room, crashed out on an air-bed on Leonard Hofstadter's floor. Leonard apologised for the makeshift arrangement, asking Ponder if he wouldn't mind finishing off blowing it up as otherwise it might bring on his asthma. HEX, at this point, reminded Leonard he had a device in the trunk of his car for reinflating tyres, which was foot-operated. Perhaps this could be adapted to an airbed?

Ponder eventually slept, finding the inflated mattress underneath him to be luxuriously comfortable. It appeared to be made from a sort of Dennisized fabric.(1) Dwarfs made that on the Discworld. He made a mental note that this might be a useful subsidiary item for the Thaumatological Park to copyright. Cut a joint deal with some capable Dwarfs... then he slept. Only to be woken up by...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Across the hall, Penny and Johanna shared a bed for convenience. It allowed them to carry on lazily chatting into sleep, an arrangement Johanna found pleasant and restful. She regularly shared a tent with people on wilderness expeditions: sometimes, if it was cold enough, a sleeping bag. Back in her first year in Ankh-Morpork when the shock of a Central Continent winter first hit her, she and her room-mate Alice Band had shared a bed for warmth. So this was an arrangement she liked and found comfort in, especially with somebody as sympathetic and congenial as Penny.

"He can drive me nuts." Penny said. "With his geekiness and his allergies and his general Leonard Hofstadter crankiness. But hon, he's just back from doing his scientific research on a boat in the North Sea. And I really, really, missed him while he was gone. You know?"

"Ja." Johanna said. "I understand. I really do. I feel much the same ebout Ponder. I edore him, but sometimes you want to take him by the ears end shake him. You sense he does not quite live in the same world es the rest of us. He requires strong firm correction sometimes."

Penny laughed.

"Leonard and Ponder both! You gotta love 'em, huh?"

Then she changed tack.

"That whip you carry. Must be a good fifteen foot, huh, when you crack it out? Looks like a classic litupa to me."

Johanna looked over in sleepy surprise.

"Most people call it a sjaemboek." she said. I hev given up correcting them. You are the first one on two worlds to name it correctly!"

"Neh." Penny said. "A sjaemboek is a lot smaller than that. Four feet tops. More of a fly-swatter."

"I see you know something of whips." Johanna said, appreciatively. Penny stretched.

"Hell, I was Nebraska Junior Rodeo Queen." she said. "I could still down 'em, hog-tie 'em, and castrate 'em, inside of sixty seconds!"

Johanna laughed, appreciatively.

"Ja. This was elso necessary with our bull-calves." she said. "I was the Natal Province Under-Thirteen Whip-Skills Champion. My old ouma was so proud of me!"

"Maybe we could trade skills, sweetie?"

"I would like thet. Perheps we should find an open space. Is there such near here? Where your Watchmen are unlikely to go? We could perheps invite the boys to wetch end learn! I elso believe Howard expressed en interest in learning ebout my mechete."

Penny made a dismissive noise.

"They go to RenFairs with fake swords." she said. "Can you believe that? They spend an hour waving plastic swords around, and think they know about fighting. Huh. Hey, sweetie, you show them how it's done for real!"

"That idea emuses me greatly." said Johanna. "Whet is a Renfair?"

And eventually they drifted into sleep.

Only to be woken up by...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna Smith-Rhodes was showing Amy Farrah-Fowler around a place Sheldon instinctively understood to be a seat of learning. It was part-cathedral, a lofty vaulted stone hall with impressive stained-glass windows. It looked like the sort of Gothic monstrosity the Victorians had built, like the place the emigrant Welshman Mr Yale had founded on the East Coast. (4). It also had overtones of a fantasy hall in Minas Tirith, but looked rather dingier than he might have expected of Gondor. And it evoked an old English college in Oxford or Cambridge. Something in Sheldon ached to visit this place, although a warning note screeched in his hindbrain about the possibly lamentable state of the toilets. He followed their conversation.

"And this is Ponder's University, Johanna? Very impressive." Amy said, looking around her. She seemed out of place here in layers of cardigans and sensible tweedy skirt. And the wildly incongruous high-heeled court shoes in canary-yellow leather.

"Ja. This is the Great Hall. Greduate end student Wizards meet in conclave here."

Sheldon frowned. Wizards? Had he misheard that? No matter.

"Teaching is largely done elsewhere. I will soon show you Ponder's High Energy Megic Building."

Magic? Sheldon felt a surge of excitement. Did their world have magic? Magic that worked? Real magic? Was that the secret of their travelling machine?

"And your work with animals?" Amy prompted her. "We get to see that too?"

"I see no reason why not." Doctor Smith-Rhodes said. "You are my guest, end a visiting ecademic with en interest. I will authorise a researcher's pass that will ellow you eccess to ell areas of the Zoo end to my Enimel Menegement Unit. Elthough I do caution you thet there are very dangerous enimels indeed et the Unit. I will essign you a senior student to ect es your escort and show you the full complex. You may sit on on lessons, if thet interests you. I hev a hard time persuading my girls thet a career in science is feasible for them."

They paused. Amy turned in awed surprise as a large orang-utan knuckled its way towards them. Johanna smiled with pleasure.

"This is my friend, the Librerien." she said.

"Oh! You perform experiments on monkeys too?" Amy said, excitedly.

The watching Sheldon was aware from the frozen expression on Johanna's face that something was very, very, wrong. The orang-utan appeared to straighten up in some indefinible way, and its knuckling became one of affronted purpose as it turned its attention to Amy.

Who, oblivious, was rummaging in her shoulder-bag.

"I might have a cigarette for a nice monkey." Amy said, conversationally. "Would you like that?"

The orang-utan bore inexorably down on her...

And Sheldon sat upright in bed, his face a rictus of alarm, and he screamed.

"No, Amy Farrah-Fowler!" he screeched into the darkness of his room, lit only by a flickering night-light. "Whatever you do, do not use the M-word! And what if he doesn't smoke?"

There was a loud, Leonard-shaped, groan from the next room. Ponder Stibbons yelped. He wasn't used to Sheldon Cooper's piercingly loud night-terrors. The girls across the hallway heard it too.

"Oh, Hell, Sheldon!" Penny groaned.

"He hes very bad dreams?" Johanna asked, her heart pounding. She wasn't used to it either.

"Sweetie, if he comes over here knocking on the door wanting one of us to sing Soft Kitty to him..." she paused. "Could you do it? Only, in English?"(5)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At ten-thirty, the girls met up at Penny's for their day out. Bernadette had put her head round the door into 4a, only to hear distant sounds of snoring. She decided to leave them to it.

Penny and Johanna had showered, breakfasted, and dressed. At first, while appreciating the comfort, softness and practicality of the borrowed clothes, Johanna had fretted that they were positively indecent by Discworld standards. She was apprehensive about going out in public showing so much bared leg, arm, and cleavage. And the top was figure-hugging tight, like a second skin. The skirt indecently short, its hem reaching to somewhere a few inches above the knee, exposing bare leg. Even though Watchwomen wore leather skirts to the knee with boots or greaves below, this was not normal womenswear for Ankh-Morpork. Dressed like this on the Broadway or Filigree Street, she thought she could provoke several major policing incidents simultaneously. Sam Vimes would not have been pleased with his Special Constable. She was only mildly reassured to see Bernadette and Penny were dressed in similar casual style, which Penny had reassured her was completely normal for girls in the Greater Los Angeles area.

"We want to make sure you don't stand out, sweetie." Penny assured her. Then, being fundamentally honest, she added, "Then again, you probably will. What's your tolerance to guys hitting on you?"

"Red hair. Body to kill for. Amazing legs..." Bernadette squeaked.

Amy, in her usual shapeless layers and thick hairy tights - or are they the hairs on her legs curling through? - lit up with enthusiasm on seeing Johanna.

"New bezzie, you look hot!" she said. "We go to a bar, the drinks are on Penny's boobs and Johanna's legs!"

Johanna, who normally considered she had a body for killing with, accepted the praise.

"Seriously, do you work out?" Penny asked. "That's one great figure, sweetie!"

"I exercise, ja." she said. "My life is a very ective one. The Guild school believes pupils should be et a peak of physical fitness. It demands this of its teachers elso. I run, climb, swim, lead pupils in ell sorts of physical ectivity, tutor them in weapons use..."

The three others looked at her. Johanna had not yet disclosed which Guild ran the school and what it ultimately trained its pupils for. Suddenly confronted with the society of refreshingly normal females – and Amy Farrah-Fowler – she had promised herself that she would lead up gradually to the whole Assassin thing. People outside the Guild – and certainly on this planet – tended to have an issue with that.

"End then there is my work et the Zoo, which the Guild owns. Working with enimels cen be extremely physical labour." she added, hurriedly.

"Speaking of weapons." Penny said. "Sweetie, promise me you've left all the hardware here? Lots of places we're gonna visit have metal-detectors on the door. It could get embarrassing, if we have to bail you outta the joint."

"Everything is here." she assured Penny, indicating her sword-belt, equipment pouches, whip, machete, stilettos, and throwing knives. "I eppreciate the need for me to go unarmed."

Johanna had fought a deeply ingrained impulse to stash at least one weapon in the purse she'd been loaned to carry her money and ID. Going naked, as the Guild termed it, went against every Assassin instinct in her body. She had habitually carried lethal weapons ever since she was ten years old. But if sophisticated detectors could pick up even one metal blade in her possession in what Penny had warned her was a lawless city, then she would be in trouble with the LAPD. Who would no doubt look at her assumed South African nationality and deport her to a country she'd never visited. At least, not directly or in this century.(6) And criminals here went gonne-armed. If there were trouble, she would have to rely on other skills to resolve things.

"To protect and to serve." she reminded herself, quoting the accepted version of Sam Vimes' City Watch motto.

Bernadette grinned.

"Yeah. That's what they claim, anyway. You don't give the local cops a hard time, hon."

And so the girls' shopping trip began.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they woke up, Sheldon Cooper had insisted on making breakfast, thus ensuring a captive audience to whom he could relate his nightmare.

"So." Leonard said, thoughtfully. "Amy Farrah-Fowler, a woman who has single-handedly introduced lung cancer and cirrhosis of the liver to an entire generation of lab monkeys, the woman who once made a rhesus monkey cry like a disgraced televangelist, was torn apart by an enraged orang-utan."

He paused over his scrambled eggs on waffle. They were rather good.

"Kismet."

"Well, I woke up just before the rending limb-from-limb part." Sheldon admitted. "But the look on that monkey's face, and the way it said "OOOK!". Terrifying, Leonard. Just terrifying."

"Tell me." Ponder Stibbons said, with slow careful deliberation. "Just what, exactly, did Doctor Farrah-Fowler actually do to, er, provoke the anger of this particular orang-utan?"

Sheldon shrugged, off-handedly. "I believe she offered it a cigarette. Is this relevant?"

Ponder sat up straight.

"Go on." he said. A horrible suspicion was forming.

"And I understand the monkey in the dream took exception to being called a monkey. Even though I am aware the orang-utan, Pongo Pongo, native to Borneo and the Indonesian islands, which incidentally derives its name from the Malay words for "old man", is taxonomically classified as a Great Ape rather than a common simian monkey, it doesn't need to know that and remains blissfully unaware of the fact. For it to actually object to being called a monkey, however inaccurate the term, implies an anthropomorphic sentience which in reality it simply does not possess. It also implies that orang-utans are fully read up on the subtleties of the Linneaean classification of species, which is frankly preposterous."

Sheldon made an amused little half-snort, half-giggle.

"And it's not as if the species has a library available to it."

Ponder winced. He took his time in replying.

"Yet you awoke screaming "Amy Farrah-Fowler, whatever you do, do not use the M-Word!"" he said.

Sheldon shrugged.

"Merely articulating the heightened emotional state present in the dream while the censor of the higher intellectual mind was temporarily shut down."

Ponder thought Sheldon had said that a little too quickly. He exchanged a look with Leonard, who smiled wearily.

"He always talks like this." Leonard Hofstadter assured him.

Ponder shuddered and tried a different approach. He recalled long conversations with the incredible Orc, Mr Nutt.

"OK, Sheldon. Let me put this hypothesis to you."

"Go on, Professor Stibbons."

"You are, let me put it delicately, involved in a sort of romantic relationship with Doctor Farrah-Fowler." he began.

"I concede there is a meeting of minds, yes. And so far she is the most suitable female to contemplate passing on twenty-three of my chromosomes to, in order to perpetuate the brilliant Cooper mind into the next generation, lest it die out of the world without progeny. Which would be a sad loss to the scientific community."

Ponder glanced at Leonard again.

"He always talks like this." Leonard Hofstadter said. "And he believes every word."

"Is it possible that your conscious mind has censored out the emotional side of the relationship to such an extent that it may only express itself in dreams?" Ponder asked. "Your id, the lower mind, is shouting to be heard. While your ego and your superego were absent, presumed sleeping, your lower mind dramatised its deeper fears about Amy in the form of a nightmare where a giant ape attacked her. Holding a lighted cigarette, or indeed Amy's offer of one."

Ponder was flying now.

"And that at the point where you woke up, the ape was poised not so much to murder Amy as to... well, the id, the lower mind, governs sexual impulses and needs. It often manifests in dreams as a monkey or an ape. And the fact Amy didn't get round to lighting or indeed even finding the cigarette she so wanted to ignite for you..."

Leonard grinned broadly.

"Touché, Professor!" he said, applauding.

Sheldon's mouth opened and closed. Eventually he said, accusingly,

"Professor Stibbons, you have a very dirty mind!"

"So do you, Sheldon. It was your dream." Leonard said. "Whoo, boy, just wait till I tell Penny!"

Ponder exhaled. He really needed to talk to HEX. Was it just conceivably true that other aspects of the Discworld were leaking through to this plane of reality, manifesting in dreams? And I hope if Amy Farrah-Fowler does come to Unseen University, Johanna briefs her properly about the Librarian. (6)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The shopping trip was well advanced. Johanna was, to her surprise, really enjoying it. Being out in the warm Californian sun, noticing to her relief that every woman she saw seemed to dress in the same minimally casual way, being in the company of Penny, Bernadette and Amy, and getting to try on these gorgeously lovely clothes - so many colours! - she realised this was something she hardly ever did at home. And the wide clean streets. The amazing buildings. The brightly-lit, tempting, shops. The automobiles. At first intimidating and travelling at what seemed recklessly fast speeds. She was getting used to that now. Actually getting into Penny's car.

"How far are we going?" Johanna had asked. The city seemed incredibly vast. She judged you could fit five or six Ankh-Morporks into it.

"Only about thirty miles at most, sweetie. Burbank, Downtown, maybe a spin around Hollywood Hills."

"Thirty miles! How long will thet take?"

Johanna was used to horses and horse-drawn carriages. She heard Penny laugh.

"Oh, about twenty minutes, sweetie, when I get this baby fired up! When we go shopping, we stop for nobody!"

Penny was as good as her word. Johanna wondered how long it would take to learn to drive. She was enjoying the speed.

"Penny?"

"Yes, hon?"

"Thet... light... on the console. Does it mean enything? It suggests a warning of some sort. I believe it reads "check engine"."

Penny shrugged.

"I checked the engine, sweetie. It's still there under the hood. Engine duly checked. Shoes or underwear first?"

And they had, indeed, shopped. There had been a moment in the amazing big indoor market called a mall. A communication system of some sort was invisibly broadcasting music that was at once insistent, soothing, and irritating. Every so often a spoken announcement broke into the music, usually a Dibbler-like shilling for goods of one sort or another. Had the mechanical voice excitedly said "And that's cutting my own throat!", Johanna would have felt completely at home. She suspected "Wait! And there's more!" and "Limited stock – buy now to avoid disappointment!" were the local equivalents. At one point a public service announcement called the parents of Lacey-May Collingwood to the Mall security office, as their lost child had been found and was awaiting collection.

And then the mechanical voice smoothly said

++Calling Doctor Johanna Smith-Rhodes++ There are amazing offers on Ipods and cellphones at the Computer Barn++Why not buy one for yourself and one for Ponder Stibbons?++

And then it was gone, un-noticed and un-heeded by the thronging crowd.

Johanna sighed. HEX probably had a good reason for this.

"Penny? Tell me ebout Ipods end cellphones."

They stopped for coffee and cake at a pavement café. Johanna, guided by Penny and Amy, learnt how to activate a cellphone and discovered an Ipod was a mobile device for listening to music, among other things. She plugged in the headphones.

++Hello, Johanna++ said HEX. ++I suggested this device as it allows me to discreetly communicate with you, unheard by others++ If you switch on your cellphone, it will enable us to have a public conversation in the street++Nobody else will think it odd you are apparently speaking into thin air, as everyone in this city uses cellphones for communication++ It will also enable you to communicate with Ponder if you are separated++ Please give him one each of these useful devices++Do not worry about cost, as I have set up paid accounts for you both++.

She smiled. She had no idea what technomancy powered these devices. But it would be useful. She thanked and acknowledged HEX, and addressed her coffee. It was really quite good. From somewhere behind a mounting stack of shopping bags – Johanna had been generous in thanks to her new friends for helping her, and all three had come away with at least one gift – Bernadette said

"I've really got to get some more cash. There's an ATM over there. I won't be a moment." Johanna watched her walk over to the ATM, whose purpose had been explained to her. She decided to float the idea to Moist von Lipwig when she saw him next. A small gargoyle or a team of gnomes could work from inside such a machine, auditing the state of the customer's bank account, and dispensing either money or "Sorry – insufficent funds. Contact your bank" as appropriate. Technomancy, or a very fast imp painter putting the message on the glass screen in reverse, would inform the customer. She frowned at the problems associated with putting what amounted to boxes of ready banknotes on streets in Ankh-Morpork. How did people here guard against theft?

As the queue to use the machine thinned, she watched the top of Bernadette's head as she drew nearer the cash point.

A few inches shorter and she would class as a dwarf, Johanna thought. But a startlingly pretty one.

And then she saw the people who were also watching the ATM. Who were drawing nearer to Bernadette, who was reaching for the little plastic rectangle that somehow activated the machine and spoke to its machine intelligence. They did not look good. She counted three of them: two closing on Bernadette and a third, a confederate, hanging back to watch for trouble. Standard Thieves' Guild practice. Johanna stood up.

"Hon?" Penny said.

"Bernadette is in trouble." Johanna said. "Please cover my beck."

Then she crossed the street to the ATM, in time to watch one of the two distracting Bernadette Wolowitz and causing her to turn her head – just as a bundle of dollars emerged from the machine. The other thief quickly grabbed the notes.

"Hey!" Bernadette squeaked, as the two began running. Right into a slightly built redhead who barred their way.

"What the fuck!" one swore, and reached into his inside pocket. Johanna stepped to block the second man who tried to sidestep her.

"Out of the freakin' WAY, lady!" he growled. Johanna stepped forward and eyeballed him.

"You will give my friend back the money you stole from her." she said.

"There was a pause."

"Thet was not a request."

"And you're gonna make me, are you?" said the large, Paraquatian, looking man with his hand inside his jacket, as if reaching for a knife.

His eyes crossed with surprise as a fast kick bowled him over. A nasty looking knife dropped from his hand as he rolled on the pavement in a private world of pain.

"Yes. I am." Johanna said. She then dropped the other with several well-placed punches and reached down to retrieve Bernadette's money. She was aware of a commotion behind her. She did not look round.

As a third body hit the ground with a large thud, she heard

"I'm from Nebraska, sweetie. We're simple Midwest folk with a zero-tolerance policy to thieves and low-lives. A hundred years ago we'd have swung you off a tree. But right now you're lookin' at a Nebraska Rodeo Queen. That means I've dropped you. I've hogtied you. Wanna find out what the third thing is?"

She looked round, unhurriedly, to where Penny was standing, the heel of her right foot hovering over a place guaranteed to ensure compliance from the prone guy.

"Folks round here are soft on crime. They allow you three strikes. In Nebraska, buddy, you don't even get one. Johanna, sweetie, wanna pass me that knife? Sure looks blunt!"

Johanna kicked it over, but Penny made no attempt to pick it up. In the background a siren wailed. The sort of bystanders who appreciate street theatre began applauding. Johanna sighed. It was the same in Ankh-Morpork. She passed Bernadette her retrieved money. Two policemen got out of a squad car. They were very purposeful looking policemen whose day was now full of incident and work.

Officer Krupke and Officer Dibble of the Los Angeles Police Department, two guys who had cause to be sensitive about their names, looked about them. Three cuffed perps, all with previous, all graduates of a Latino gang from East L.A., sat, docile, on the pavement, awaiting a lock-up wagon. The one who had said "Get these freakin' women off me, will ya, they're maniacs!" had been exhorted to be silent in no uncertain terms.

Officer Dibble handed back Johanna's passport and paperwork.

"I'm sure sorry you had a bad experience in our city, Doctor Smith-Rhodes." he said. "But I hear its kinda bad in South Africa, right? Guess you learnt to look after yourself in... " he stumbled over the name. "Witwatersrand. And you were in the South African Defence Forces, too."

This was partly true. Johanna had done National Service in a sort of southern African army.

"Ja", she said. "We were taught a little unarmed combat. Since then, I hev worked es a security consultant."

Which was also true. It was a recognised role of the Guild of Assassins, who sometimes had to be contracted to bring about the exact opposite.

"whoo boy." said Officer Krupke. "Just not you guys' day, is it?"

"That one, the cowpoke girl, threatened to cut my godamn balls off!" another would-be mugger shouted, indignant. Penny smiled sweetly at him.

"Hey, late nights bartending at the Cheesecake Factory..." she said.

Officer Dibble scowled at him.

"You tried to mug a Nebraska Rodeo Queen." he said, shaking his head in mock sorrow. "What the freakin' hell did you expect? Out there, they rope 'em, they drop 'em, and what comes next is sure unfortunate for the steer!"

The mugger tried to remonstrate again.

"Shaddup!" said Dibble. "And listen. I ain't gonna say this more than once..."

He read them their Miranda rights, informing them they were under arrest for grand larceny, theft, and assault.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you'll all need to come to the precinct and give statements." Krupke said. "none of you ladies are under arrest."

"I understand." Johanna said, putting on a co-operative face. "Et home, I am myself a part-time police officer. I em sorry to hev given you the extra paperwork. I know whet a trial it is. Especially if you wish for a quiet patrol, or you are near the end of a shift end wish only to go home."

She thought of the City Watch and the officers she knew. How literate people like herself, Angua and Sally were often badgered to help less able officer with their paperwork. She knew something about coppers, and knew what buttons to press.

"You're a cop?" Dibble said. "Ma'am, pleased to meet you!"

He extended a hand. Penny relaxed. It was going to be OK. If Amy could help load the car, they could get this out of the way at the station house, maybe Amy could get all the loot home? Or she'd ring Leonard to get him to come out in his car.

She looked at Johanna. That girl was sure livening things up... boy this was gonna be fun!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) It's like this. On Roundworld, the smith, technocrat, and generally good-with-his-hands, God was Vulcan. Hence early rubberized fabrics were called Vulcanised. (Vulcan was also god of volcanoes and emissions from the bowels of the Earth, popularly supposed to be effluvium from his subterranean workshop. Vulcanised rubber also smells of sulphur, cat pee, and stale farts, as Constable Visit discovered during the Wally Sonk murder investigation. (2)) On the Discworld, the parellel deity is Dennis, Janitor and Handyman of the Gods.

(2) See Terry Pratchett's The Fifth Elephant, in which rubber and latex play a key role.

(3) It's like this. My other old uni is an establishment that now variously calls itself the University of Wales, Wrexham, or Prifysgol Owain Glyndwr. It really wanted to call itself Yale University, Wrexham, because the original founding institution was legitimately called Yale College after the local man who founded it, over a hundred years before. But they never copyrighted the name. Owing to this oversight, the lesser upstart college in New England, founded by the same Mr Yale who emigrated to the USA, sucessfully sued for wrongful use of the name and trading under false pretences. It was agreed in court that the Welsh-language Coleg Iâl was sufficiently vague, but anywhere outside of New England that wanted to call itself Yale University could forget it, pronto...

(4) Written for Space Anjl, who I gather from recent correspondence is not Amy Farrah-Fowler's greatest fan. You're welcome.

(5) Owing to there-but-not-there suits, HEX had been able to project Discworld researchers into the Roundworld in a virtually real kind of way, unseen, in normal circumstances, by local observers. Johanna had taken advantage of this to go on virtual safaris in the Serengeti, South America, and the Borneo jungles, so as to get really close to the wildlife. But her visits were generally around 1400, before colonialization set in, and (crucially) before firearms became common on Roundworld. Vetinari had insisted only really mentally well-adjusted Assassins should enter the Roundworld in periods where firearm cultures predominated. He would have reservations about Johanna visiting the United States in the early 21st Century, not just a dominant firearms culture but possibly the firearms culture. Cheesecake, and an appreciation of her being very sane and level headed, will even this out, though.

(6) Although the Unseen University Librarian is a gentle soul who has never yet been known to physically chastise a woman for inadvertently using the M-word. As seen with Agnes Nitt, he offers a gentle warning first. A woman who has slain lesser monkeys in the pursuit of scientific experimentation might be the first, though.

Chapter 5: The Fabricati Diem, pvnc ultimatum

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter five: bailed outta the joint.

In which life continues following a little disagreement in the street, in which Johanna questioned the perceived right of three gang-bangers from East L.A. to help themselves to Bernadette's money. In keeping with the general cut-and-thrust of academic debate, Doctor Smith-Rhodes, ably assisted by Penny from Nebraska, was able to marshal some rather cogent and decisive premises in applied moral philosophy which enabled her to triumph. This was quickly followed by a debate concerning jurisprudence and application of admissible legal instruments with two visiting Fellows from the Los Angeles Police Department.

Amy Farrah-Fowler returned alone to the apartment block on los Robles, feeling bucked up and enervated by what she had witnessed. Being mugged and robbed was an environmental hazard of living in Greater Los Angeles. Even so, she had been shocked to see it almost happen to a close friend like Bernadette. And then she had been cheering and clapping, along with other bystanders, as her new bezzie BF, the red-haired girl who must be from South Africa, (as the notion that she was an alien who had arrived here from a different planet that, had a South Africa-like country, was not only impossible but also patently impossible), hacked down two guys, both larger and stronger than she appeared to be, in a matter of seconds. Penny had tripped and kicked the third where it hurt, but hey, that was Penny. While the two cops were cuffing the perps and waiting for a catch-wagon, Amy had stood guard on the stack of purchases while Penny brought the car round – Johanna had somehow persuaded the cops to let Penny leave the scene and get the car. Amy had promised to give a witness statement later, but obviously, we can't just leave our shopping lying around on the pavement, officer...

And here she was knocking at the door of 4a.

"Yes?" said Sheldon Cooper.

"Penny, Bernadette and Johanna have been unavoidably detained at the police precinct." Amy said, in her flat, disinterested monotone. "I have, however, been able to retrieve the shopping. I require assistance to bring it upstairs to Penny's apartment."

"Oh, shit." Ponder Stibbons said,wearily. "Who's she happened to this time?"

Howard and Raj looked at him.

"Does your lady happen to people often, Ponder?" Howard asked.

"You'd be surprised..."

"Howard, there was an attempt to rob Bernadette. She is currently exhibiting the clinical symptoms of mild trauma, such as dizziness and vertigo typical of enhanced noradreniline compounds in the cortical bloodstream, greatly enhanced heart rate, shivering, and cold sweats, but is otherwise unharmed. Johanna intervened. She was awesome!"

Ponder didn't look surprised.

"Thieves' Guild?" he asked.

"If that is the same as an L.A. Street gang, then yes." Amy said. "Three of them."

"Ah. Johanna outnumbered your attackers one-to-three." Ponder said. He sounded very unsurprised. "Were any... er... inhumed? Or seriously hurt?"

"Sadly, they all retained consciousness." Amy said. "Penny describing how an Okie girl goes about neutering male calves who are superfluous to the future breeding requirements of the Nebraskan dairy-farming community greatly helped in enforcing compliance. And then the police arrived."

Everyone looked at Leonard. He sighed.

"Hey, a girl's got to have a hobby!" he said. Penny and Amy had once discussed castration as a means of taking surplus males out of the gene-pool and evening out undesirable little behavioural quirks in the surplus population. Amy's un-necessarily detailed clinical description, of how a minor surgical procedure performed at one end of a monkey could induce beneficial and perceptible neurochemical changes at the other, was still something that haunted his dreams. At least they'd been looking at Howard while they compared monkeys to steers...

Then his cellphone rang. It was Penny.

"Ah-huh." he mumbled, as she explained the situation. "Everyone OK? Good. I'll be right over."

"Do you need to pay bail?" Sheldon asked. "I have money if you require it. Raj, you said Priya might be back in town soon? Perhaps you could approach your legally lethal sister to represent Penny in court?"

"No way, Sheldon!" Leonard said, heatedly, as he went to the door. "Besides, they're not the ones under arrest!"

Asking Priya to get Penny out of a jam? he thought. Is Sheldon insane? I want to keep my testicles, thank you. And not floating in formaldehyde in a sample jar as a memento of happier times.

"You surprise me." Sheldon said, mildly.

"Now can we get onto important business?" Amy inquired. "Those shopping bags won't carry themselves upstairs!"

"You may have the services of Raj and Howard." Sheldon said, grandly.

"What about you, Sheldon?" Raj said, pointedly.

"Well, for one, the frilly and lacy feminine underpinnings which have been bought for use by Doctor Smith-Rhodes do not interest me in the slightest. Nor do shoes, skirts, tops, spaghetti-strapped vests, or any other female garment appropriate for wear in California by a visitor from an alien world with a different default climate, which I understand from conversation with Professor Stibbons is permanently set to "rainy and cold". I would also suspect that Penny and Bernadette have not abstained from reckless and spendthrift expenditure of their own on ditto items of garb. Second and more pertinent, as the alpha male and greatest intelligence in this group, I am excused manual labour. Off you go, Raj and Howard."

"I'll help." said Ponder. He was intrigued by the idea Johanna was going to blend into this world by wearing its clothes. Well, he thought, the Assassins' Concordat stresses the importance of blending in with your surroundings when on an undercover mission... It interested Ponder in more than the slightest.

"Just drop the bags in Penny's apartment." Amy said. "I've got the key. Howard! No peeping!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Let's get this straight, ma'am." the interviewing officer said to Penny. "The perp complains that you threatened to castrate him if he so much as breathed where you could see it. We gotta cover all angles here, you understand. Any reasonable person would accept you were acting out of legitimate self-defence. But we're not talking normal and reasonable people here, we're talking a randomly selected Los Angeles jury. Could be he might bring a counter-charge of excessive violence."

Penny smiled sweetly at the cop. He blinked.

"Officer, it takes a sharp knife or a veterinarian tool to cut a steer." she said. "I know in the old days, an Okie woman might use her teeth to do the job."

The officer winced. Drop-dead gorgeous blondes talking about castration kind of sent out mixed signals. He briefly wondered why he'd ever joined the force.

"But hey, I just had dental work done. That cost me big dollar! And my grandmomma told me it left a bad taste in your mouth if you didn't spit quickly enough..."

"Ain't that sorta painful?" he asked, taking a deep breath.

Penny considered this.

"Well, only if you didn't hogtie the back legs securely enough, and it got a chance to kick you."

The officer closed the interview file, deliberately.

"I consider I have everything I need." he said. "Ma'am, you're free to go."

"Thank you, officer!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna handed over the South African passport and introductory letters HEX had somehow obtained for her. The policewoman looked at them and read the back page, which was trilingual in English, Afrikaans and an African language transcribed into Roman text.

"Doctor Johanna Famke Smith-Rhodes. Hair, red. Eyes, green. Ethnicity White Afrikaaner. First language Afrikaans. Religion, Dutch Reformed Church of South Africa. Profession: zoologist, higher education teacher. Mother's maiden name is van der Graaf. You carry letters of introduction from Witwatersrand University to Caltech, where you are hoping to obtain a research fellowship. Your entry visa to the USA is made out for "business" and entitles you to work here as an academic and teacher, provided you have a legitimate professional sponsor."

HEX had done his background work well, even hacking into South African Airlines' passenger lists to show she had arrived by air and had been processed by Immigration at Los Angeles International Airport.

The policewoman sighed.

"Ma'am, there are some weird people there! They say it's where UCLA sends the ones who are too bat-dung strange nucking futjob even for Berkeley. One professor flipped completely and went to work naked. As that kinda thing's normal for Caltech, it took weeks before anyone even noticed."

She grimaced.

"And we once dealt with this wacko professor who insisted we follow through a criminal investigation for things that got stolen online in this fantasy computer game he was playing, can you believe that?" (1)

Johanna wondered for a moment if she meant Sheldon Cooper.

"Fortunately he wasn't the sort of doctor with access to drugs." the policewoman said, conversationally. "Another time the same mad professor called us because there was a bird sitting on his windowledge looking at him funny. Can you believe that? We just told him to close the freaking curtains!"

Johanna smiled. She liked this policewoman. It helped that because of Sam Vimes enlisting her as a Special, she'd got to know Watchmen and suspected certain police types were universal. She could talk cop with cops. It helped a lot.

"Current domicile, Apartment 4c, 2311 North Los Robles, Pasadena. That checks out. Your friend vouched for you. We have to do this with non-citizens, you understand. Just to check you're not an illegal alien."

Johanna smiled inwardly. It was nice to be a legal alien in the USA.

The officer frowned. "Hey, I recall that mad professor from Caltech lives in the same block. We got a file this thick on him! Avoid him, hon. Long thin guy with funny starey eyes. Nutjob, but harmless. We think."

"Ah. I believe I hev met him. He hes a friend who is better adjusted end who strives to interpret the world for him."

The policewoman smiled.

"We sure admire you for what you did, hon. You took out three bad guys with a lot of previous. They're in the cage now and probably in the pen after court. If we need you to testify in court, you're available at this address?"

"Certainly."

The two shook hands.

"One last thing. The Captain wants to see you. Tough cookies who kick the crap out of our less well-adjusted citizens interest him. I guess he'll want to shake your hand too. Follow me?"

Johanna followed. She adjusted her mental compass to "reporting to Sam Vimes." News travels fast in a police station, always a hive of fast-moving gossip. Where policemen weren't semi-discreetly admiring her figure, comments like

"Hey, doc? Good job!" and "you sure did a number on those crims, ma'am!" and "Do all the policewomen in your country look like you?"

and "South African consulate's at 6300 Wilshire, if you wanna emigrate!" followed her.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny and Bernadette waited in the hall of the police precinct. Penny kept a close eye on her friend.

"Won't be long, sweetie." she said. "I rang the guys. Somebody's coming out to collect us."

She was worried. The waiting room of a police station is never a good place to wait. The usual complement of arrested hookers, druggies, their friends, minor crims caught out in chicanery, re-arrested bail-jumpers, the bounty hunters who'd brought them in, and a smattering of normal more-or-less innocent citizens, along with hard-eyed cops keeping watch on the zoo, was getting to her too. Bernie had just experienced a hit-and-run mugging and now had leisure time to think about it.

"We'll just wait for Johanna, then we're outta here. Whoever comes, Leonard or Howard, he'll find us outside."

"They haven't arrested her, have they?"

"Hell, no! The way those cops were going on, they were all set to give her a medal or something. And I tell you, I'm sure glad she was fighting on our team. I bet when the guys hear about it, they are gonna want to take her out paintballing against the dirt people!"

Bernie giggled. Sheldon's antipathy to geologists and archaeologists was well known. Penny felt glad she was taking her friend's mind off things.

"Hey, look! Here they are! Leonard, sweetie!"

She stood up and leapt up and down to draw attention, a physical fact that drew wolf-whistles and cheers.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Captain Trunk was a dapper Afro-American guy in his forties. He had the right to wear civilian clothes to work. A level-headed and pragmatic cop, as captain his role was as much administration and management as active policing. He sympathised with Officers Dibble and Krupke, as his police career had begun at much the same time that godamm TV show had started. Trunk felt obliquely that this hadn't been fair. He'd wanted to be a cop all his life. And once he got there, his police career had been blighted with whispered- in- the- locker- room comments like Trust me, I know what I'm doing!" On promotion to Sergeant, Trunk had begun affably remarking that if his name meant he ever had to really shout at people, he was sure he could find somebody's face to shout in, you hear me, Officer?

Philosophically, while he felt it was typical of the world that it had never been able to assign him a Sergeant Dori Doreau whilst landing dozens of would-be Hammers on him, at least he could take comfort in Detective Columbo of the Murder Squad getting it worse. And hell, the LAPD now had an Officer McLeod in its mounted section. He suspected all this proved God had a sense of humor.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes for you, Captain."

Trunk smiled.

"Show her in, miss Courtney."

Trunk smiled into the girlish freckled face of the young woman who walked in.

Hell, she's a looker. And I hear she's a volunteer part-time cop at home.

Her accent was South African. Trunk was old enough to have mixed feelings about white folks who spoke with that accent. But hey, their Consulate was on his police patch and the staff there were 80% black African these days. The South Africans had cleaned up their act a bit in the last few years. There had to be some decent white folk from that country. Some nice white South Africans. And he was prepared to give a by to glorious redheads with a figure like that. Well, I never met a nice South African. as I'm black American, that was not too surprising. But this one may be the first.

"Ceptain." she said, taking the offered hand with no hesitation.

"Ma'am." he said. "I have to say, on behalf of the Los Angeles Police Department, you displayed real bravery and impressive self-defence skills this afternoon. It's a real honour to meet you."

"Thenk you, sir." she said, reflecting that she'd made her face known, and in a good way, with an entire police force. Not bad for her first day on Roundworld.

"The officers who took the call report that you're a cop? Or at least, a part-time volunteer?"

"Thet is so." she said. And wondered what she could say about the Ankh-Morpork City Watch that wouldn't sound... strange. She decided to focus on the universal cop stuff and leave out the specifics. It would be safest.

"My primary job is es a zoologist end ecademic. When an ill-advised person in the city where I live very unwisely imported large dangerous enimels, end showed he hed no idea es to how to menage them, they escaped. The local police force esked for my essistence in rounding up end recepturing them. We hed, for en efternoon end evening, something of en urban safari." (2)

Johanna related the story, in an edited form.

"Et the end of the mission, the local police commender congretulated me end esked if I would like to become a special constable. Of course, I eccepted. My full-time work means I cennot be a full-time officer, but I seek to muster with the city watch at least once a month, perheps to do a foot patrol end to learn the art of policing. It is, to me, velueble end interesting work."

Trunk nodded.

"I see you're seeking work in Pasadena, at Caltech." he said. "Boy, is that one nut-house. There's a guy there, lives in the world of numbers and letters. Wherever that is, it sure as heck ain't this one! gotta file on him, this thick. And another guy, got taken on by NASA to work on the space program. While it was never proven, they suspect he was the one who wrecked a few million bucks worth of high technology we sent to Mars - just to show off to this girl. FBI had us help investigate. And this other guy working for the Department of Defense was seeing a North Korean spy. Guy was a typical Poindexter. Didn't even notice. Boy, does Caltech get 'em!"

Trunk went on at some length, Johanna listening and storing up interesting stories. She kept a carefully straight face.

"Ma'am, if you're too sane for Caltech, and it looks as if you are, and you want to try policing full time, I'd be pleased to write you a reference." he said. "I can never get enough good officers."

"Thenk you, but I am not an American citizen." she said. "Will thet metter?"

"Ma'am, I got officers here of twenty different nationalities. We take good cops from anywhere, and it gets you an automatic Green Card to work in this country.(3) It's a fast track to becoming a citizen. Contact me if you're interested!"

Trunk leaned back. "Now all I need from you is the name and business address of your police commander. I want to write him a personal letter of thanks and commendations about what you did today. A real pleasure and a privilege!"

Johanna kept a perfectly straight face. Oh, kak. That's Sam Vimes. And if Captain Trunk can get a letter from here to Ankh-Morpork I'd be very surprised. How do I get out of this one?

A bell started to ring, nearby but muffled.

"Do you want to take that call, Doctor?" Trunk said. "I guess people know you've been in a fight and they're worried about you."

Of course. The cellphone.

She reached into her bag, glad of the distraction, and activated the phone. The screen glowed blue. A text message scrolled across it.

++Give him Sir Samuel's name and invent an address on Roundworld++ I will intercept the letter and see it reaches Sir Samuel++

Johanna sighed with relief and clumsily texted back. It had a lot in common with clacksing, only with an aggravatingly smaller keyboard.

CNNT SPK. MSG RCVD THNK U HX.

She closed the call.

"Ja." she said. "Thank you. The responsible officer is Commender Semuel Vimes."

She added a plausible sounding address in Pietermauritzberg, Natal, KZN, knowing she could trust HEX to get it before it was delivered to an utterly confused recipient with no idea what was going on. But the sting in the tail was that HEX proposed to redirect it to Sam Vimes... what if he tried to write back?

She warmly thanked Captain Trunk for his time and his courtesy, and hinted that her friends would be waiting downstairs. He took the hint, and escorted her to the door, giving her a business card and saying "call me. We need born cops."

Ah well. she thought. The letter will in all probability be lost in Mr Vimes' in-tray for months. Or Frederick Colon will use it for a firelighter. I'll deal with this when it happens.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leonard Hofstadter had caught up with Ponder in the entry-well of 2311.

"The, er, elevator, doesn't work?" Ponder asked, politely.

"Long story, Ponder. Hey, to save you running Amy's bags up three flights of stairs, you'd better come with me? We'll find out what happened. You're not worried for Johanna?"

Ponder had learnt not to worry too much over her work assignments. He did spare a little compassion for anyone she happened to, though.

"She looks after herself. Believe me. But it'd be best if I joined you. Where are we going?"

"LAPD Wilshire precinct. West Venice. Maybe a three-quarter hour ride cross town. The girls are there."

He went. At least he'd see a little of this strange new city on the way.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leonard's attention was distracted by Bernadette leaping up and wrapping her arms around him. She was shaking a little. Penny somehow managed to wrap herself around both of them at once. Ponder, temporarily ignored, sighed and looked round his new environment. It was seedy and dispiriting, like the waiting area of Pseudopolis Yard on a Friday or Saturday night, and for much the same reasons with much the same sort of people. Ponder had often had to go to the Yard to bail out wizards pulled in by the Watch, for the usual depressing sorts of reasons. He sighed again. Low-status Seamstresses were instantly recognisable whatever planet you were on. That big guy over there, lolling on his chair, put him in mind of a troll on Class-S drugs. And Watchmen were instantly recognisable, anywhere.

"We gotta wait for Johanna." Penny said. "Hope she won't be long."

The four of them set about waiting. Penny filled them in on events.

"They took the three of us off to different desks." she said. "Probably deliberate, they want to be sure our statements match up. But hell, we're not in trouble."

"Did your cop try to hit on you?" Leonard asked, with seeming casualness. He knew any man who wasn't gay, or dead, or Sheldon Cooper, tried to hit on Penny. It was a fact of life.

"Sweetie! Of course he did! You don't think I didn't take advantage of that?" she asked.

Leonard grinned.

"So you're not in trouble, then."

"Uh-huh. Squicked him out. He sure terminated the interview when I explained about rodeo!"

It was Penny who spotted Johanna first, as she stepped down a flight of stairs Something about her drew looks. It might have been the red hair, or the way she carried herself in local clothes. At the foot of the stairs, a huge guy with blonde hair, long blonde beard, and muscled like an old-time barbarian hero, stopped her. The woman with him, also blonde, had better muscles than most men.

Johanna listened courteously to whatever proposition was being made, accepted a business card, shook hands with both, and walked on, recognising her friends.

"Pimp?" Leonard asked.

"Sweetie, they're worse! Bounty hunters." (4)

Ponder belatedly recognised her. The tight figure-hugging top with almost invisible shoulder straps. The eye-bogglingly short skirt. The delicate shoes that seemed in some indefinable way to draw attention to the shape of her legs... and what legs... her red hair, loose and tied back in a casual pony-tail... and the way the tight top caused parts of her to jiggle as she walked...

Leonard placed a friendly hand on Ponder's shoulder.

"You never get over it. Trust me. And man, isn't it good..."

Johanna hugged and kissed Ponder.

"Nggggh..." he said, lost for words.

"Hev you missed me?" she said, fondly. Leonard and Penny grinned at each other. An increasingly incredulous male gaze was focusing on Ponder Stibbons, who was dressed in nondescript baggy jeans and a hoodie borrowed from Leonard. A little of it was rubbing off on Leonard, as Penny hugged him.

No, you never get over it. And it doesn't get any better than this..."

Penny kissed Leonard.

Well, it does get better.

"Come on, sweetie. Let's get outta here!" Penny declared. And so the five of them left.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Doctor Sheldon Cooper.

(2) See my story Nature Studies, in which Ankh-Morpork becomes a slightly more dangerous place to reside than usual.

(3) Really true. Joseph Wambaugh's thinly-veiled slice of police life, The Choirboys, references a Japanese immigrant who was paired up with a German immigrant as LAPD beat cops. Both were non-citizens with Green Cards looking to become naturalised American citizens. They were less than amused when other cops nicknamed them The Axis Partners. The Choirboys, incidentally, was a novel that helped inspire Terry Pratchett to write about the Ankh-Morpork City Watch.

(4) Johanna had indeed been propositioned. The hulking man and his wife worked as bounty-hunters, and traded in collecting people running from the law. They'd just dropped off a perp, and from a police contact had heard the talk of the day was this classy gal from South Africa who'd single-handedly beaten some remorse into three Crips from East L.A. So "Excuse me, ma'am. Would you like a job?" The reasoning being that nobody would believe a gal who looked like that could be so completely commendably badass in a fight... any low-life not taking her seriously would be giving her the element of surprise. She had taken The Canine's card, and said she would think about it. Not telling him that bounty-hunting was an acceptable contract for an Assassin on the Discworld.

Slight rewrite - to eliminate errors and typos. Two issues:

Apologies.At a casual glance, I assumed Pasadena was a satellite city of Greater Los Angeles and was covered in the LAPD police jurisdiction. Whoops... I have since discovered that the City of Roses is a seperate political identity that just happens to border onto Greater Los Angeles and has its own police department... so the LAPD would have heard about the big thick file on Sheldon Cooper with the note on the front that says "if it isn't murder, just ring his mom in Texas and let her chew him out", but be quietly releived that it's Pasadena that holds it and has to deal with him.

The whole Okie thing:several readers have messaged me with congratulations and favourable feedback as to how a Brit can write Americans well. Thank you. But have mentioned that the diminutive "Okie" only applies to people from Oklahoma - Penny is from Nebraska and is more of a Cornhusker. (in some circumstances). I take this correction, but note that there is one episode of TBBT where Penny refers to herself as an Okie. so I assumed the show's writers had done the research and it was therefore OK. Also, Wikipedia and several online dictionaries of colloquialisms note the distinctions are blurred: with the westward rush of internal migrants from the mid-west to California in the dustbowl years of the 1920's, EVERY mid-westerner became an Okie in Californian eyes, regardless of state. Perhaps Penny got so tired of correcting natives calling her an Okie that she just ran with it?

Chapter 6: The Cheesecake Neologism

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter six: practical applications for a Time Machine. And the cheesecake factory franchise.

And back to the apartment. A pleasant evening ensues.

Sheldon Cooper had been talking about his nightmare of the previous night to anyone who wanted to listen, and also to anyone who didn't. Johanna sat bolt upright, surprised.

I wish to take this Amy to the Discworld, and to introduce her to some people. My friend Matron Igorina, for one. They will get on. And also, for my own amusement, to the main Post Office building. I must ensure she does not encounter the Librarian before she is firmly and emphatically warned. There is a duty of care and protection to these people.

Amy smiled, surprised and warmed.

"Sheldon? You expressed real apprehension and concern for my fate? I am touched!"

Sheldon Cooper frowned. "In the dream I was standing nearby. I do not recollect what clothing items I was wearing. I do know, however, how hard it is to get bloodstains and bodily matter out of fabrics. And I don't know how many pathogens and contaminants circulate in your body from close contact with simian offal and entrails. The risk factor was far too great."

Amy frowned, deflated.

Penny had left for a shift at the Cheesecake Factory. This left the other six, gathered in the boys' living room.

"Anyhoo." Sheldon said, affectedly. "While you were out bailing people out of police custody. Professor Stibbons, if you propose to remain on this world for any significant length of time, you will be very welcome to stay as a guest in this apartment, should you so wish. However, I must insist you sign the Housemate Agreement as a temporary resident. I have duly printed off a copy for you to initial at all pertinent points and to formally sign at the end. Doctor Smith-Rhodes is exempt, as my understanding is that she is living across the hallway at Penny's, and is therefore outside my jurisdiction."

He sounded regretful at this. Raj sniggered.

"Yes, Sheldon. Every time you've tried to get her to agree to a Floormates Agreement that means everyone on the whole floor is subject to the same universal binding contract, Penny has told you exactly where to roll it up and stick it!"

"Well, it's untidy and highly unsatisfactory that a neighbouring flat, which can be argued to have an anarchistic disregard of those protocols which regulate the everyday details of mutually beneficial shared living, is allowed to ignore all daily schedules and routines and to make it up as it goes along! By any practical application of Bohr's Law and the Copenhagen Interpretation, which states that any two particles once brought into contact carry on influencing and interacting with each other, it is only right and correct that Penny should sign a binding Floormates Agreement!"

"Today, 2311 North Los Robles. Tomorrow, the world..." murmured Howard.

Without looking up, Ponder said "That sounds reasonable. While we're here we should contribute to shared expenses, up to and including rent. This agreement says what those are?"

Sheldon flourished a sheaf of A4 paper the thickness of a small telephone directory.

"I'm so glad you see it this way, Professor Stibbons!"

Ponder speed-read through it without commentating. He looked at several sections and smiled to himself. One in particular struck him as funny.

"Leonard, did you have to sign this too?" he asked.

Leonard Hofstadter nodded, grimly.

"I'll sign on conditions, Sheldon." Ponder said. "I'd like to take this with me for a f... an acquaintance... on the Disc to look at. He finds things like this to be very interesting. If he has a hobby, he collects contracts like this. For his own amusement."

"Do you mean Mr Slant?" Johanna asked. Ponder nodded.

"The Lawyers' Guild Library has a room full of professionally interesting contracts." Ponder explained. "For instruction and guidance of young trainee lawyers. They'd love this one!"

"Your lawyer friend isn't going to challenge this, is he?" Sheldon said, suspiciously. "I think you'll find, after my unfortunate experience with Mizz Priya Kooprathali performing a legal dissection of the original, I have studied enough law to extensively rewrite a version with less loopholes."

"I don't think he's able to legally practice on this world." Ponder said. He left out the logic that if a Zombie is a creature retaining sentient life after death owing to the unique magical properties of the Discworld, sending one to a different planet where no magic worked would induce a long-delayed death the moment they arrived. Whether other Discworld sentient species would thrive on the monosentiently human Roundworld had been a debated theoretical question. After some debate, they'd asked for a Troll volunteer willing to take the risk of going into the Project. He'd arrived under a bridge in Norway in 995 AD, and had flourished in a country where everyone knew trolls existed. They just wished it was under somebody else's bridge. HEX had pulled back the volunteer troll, who had demanded

"Why you do dat? I was makin' big dollar dere on bridge tolls!"

The troll had taken some calming, HEX bringing across the heavy chest containing his booty – enough silver, gold and gems to set him up for life in the city. HEX had also taken the precaution of manipulating things so a flock of goats was driven over the bridge: this neatly explained the disappearance of its guardian troll into the mists of myth, legend, and fairy tale.

"Just sign here, Professor Stibbons". Sheldon repeated, impatiently.

"Don't do it!" Leonard pleaded. "Seriously, don't!"

Ponder smiled. And then signed. Sheldon took back the Housemate Agreement with satisfaction. Leonard did the facepalm thing.

"And, as I'm assuming you will be engaging in coitus with Doctor Smith-Rhodes during your stay here, you will fully honour Clause Six sub-section twenty-three, which states that the secondary signatory, ie, you, will formally advise the primary signatory, ie, me, in writing and preferably by email, no later than twenty-four hours in advance."

Johanna's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. She looked at Sheldon. It was not a friendly look.

"Errr... I know what you're thinking, but please don't damage him." Bernadette said, quickly.

"Why the Hell did you sign that?" Leonard asked, heatedly. Ponder grinned the grin of a man who has it all worked out. Howard Wolowitz looked over, his eyes displaying appreciation of a long-delayed punch-line.

He glanced towards the time machine and raised an eyebrow. Ponder nodded, smugly. Very smugly. Leonard boggled.

"Check your email inbox, Doctor Cooper." Ponder invited him. "I think you'll find everything's in order and the paperwork is completed according to the terms of the Agreement."

"Hmmf." Sheldon said. But he went to check his email anyway.

His eyes narrowed as he picked up a mail in his inbox.

"pstibbons,© UU. edu,.dw" he read. Dated for six yesterday morning..." Sheldon blinked. "Advising me in accordance with Section 6 sub-section 23 of the Housemate Agreement that should she in the normal course of events be amenable, and it is clearly understood that the decision to proceed is in her sole gift, there may be an act closely defined under the terms of article 23:6 involving Professor Ponder Stibbons of the UEA institution(1), and Doctor Johanna Famke Smith-Rhodes, of the AS Guild Academy. Mail copied to JSR_2© .dw as an F.Y.I. for her advice."(2)

Sheldon took a deep breath and glared at Ponder.

"That... all appears to be in accord, Doctor."

Raj cheered and Howard offered him a handshake.

Sheldon looked sternly at Ponder, who looked back, innocently.

"This only leaves the question of your bathroom schedule, Professor Stibbons. I can allocate you 9:00 – 9:30 am each day for all matters of ablutions and bodily evacuations."

"I believe I can accommodate that, yes." Ponder agreed, placidly.

Sheldon smiled. "I appreciate your attention to detail, Professor. The agreement is more flexible on matters of laundry. You may use, or negotiate to use, the shared laundry room in this apartment block at all times and dates, other than Saturday evening."

"That's when Sheldon uses it for his clothes." Howard explained to Ponder, who nodded.

There was a silence. Then Leonard asked

"So what do we do tonight, then?" Sheldon looked at him, slightly outraged.

"I am piqued that you should ask, Doctor Hofstadter!" he said, indignantly.

"Everyone should be aware that Friday evening is vintage game evening, accompanied by Chinese food from the Golden Dragon!"

"Well, normally, yes." Leonard said. "But last night was Anything-Goes Thursday and we had Chinese then. And after Ponder and Johanna sorta... arrived... we played games. And since you've just raised the Room-mate Agreement and made Ponder sign it, I wanna invoke section forty-eight subclause one."

Sheldon looked it up.

"Emergency Provisions. In the event of our being contacted by advanced alien intelligences from another planet, the normal nightly schedule may be suspended while we establish contact and rapport with our guests. Clause One is a hypothetical suggestion we allow our guests to choose the cuisine, and we answer their reasonable questions about Planet Earth, whilst learning more of their homeworld and what it can teach us."

Sheldon appeared to be in a profound inner struggle with himself. His face twitched in a nervous tic. Howard leant forward.

"Bet he never dreamed he'd ever be called on that one!" he said to Raj. Raj smiled. He was enjoying this.

"Rajesh, may I ask? There are a people very much like you on our world. They provide a foodstuff called curry. Is it known here?" asked Ponder.

"Oh, silly question!" Raj said. "Does the sun rise in the east? Do large ursine creatures perform their intimate ablutions in the arboreal cover? Is the Deavasthanapathi of the Most Holy Ganges shrine at Kerala a Hindu? Do Indians eat curry?"

There was a silence.

"Lamb Gahati Methi for me, please." Johanna said, smiling at Raj. "Moderately strongly spiced, but not to a stupid verdammte mecho vindalloo level."

Raj fled to the kitchen and poured a glass.

"Good idea." Howard said. He paused. He'd tried vindaloo once out of a macho desire to impress. The memory still made him wake up sweating at night. "Chicken madras for me. Kosher chicken."

"Chicken saag aloo for me!" Amy declared.

Raj returned from the kitchen.

"Dear lady doctor, I see you are educated in my national cuisine." he said. "The Sitar Indian Cuisine on 618 East Colorado is a place I can recommend." (3)

Sheldon came out of his inner war.

"Very well." he said. "Indian it is. By the way, did you know that so many of the heavily spiced foodstuffs we carelessly class together as "Indian" actually originate from Bangladesh, Pakistan and Sri Lanka, and in the modern world, thus cannot be described as "Indian" at all? Mine's a chicken dopiaza, f.y.i."

"Just do not try to order beef, Sheldon." Raj said, impatiently. "And I do not care what the bloody uncultured Pakistanis choose to eat. For my preference, I choose the lobster tails in korma sauce. That is as Indian as my tastes go, thank you!"

He paused, and added

"Vindaloo is like the Dalit caste. Untouchable."

And so it became an Indian night.

"May I ask." Johanna said, as they waited for delivery. "Lest night when we errived, Howard referred to my personal weapons in the context of somebody called Eragorn end a place called Meduseld. I freely edmit I do not know the reference. Howard was respectful in his use of the names. Does this essociate to a mythology in this world? To a religion, perheps? I would like to know more."

"A religion." Leonard mused. "Now you've opened a big one there, Johanna."

"I know! We can watch the movies over dinner!" Sheldon almost squeaked with excitement. "This can be Lord of The Rings Night!"

"Good idea." Howard and Raj agreed.

Bernadette sighed. "Do not make any Hobbit jokes. OK?"

"Sure thing, Rosie." Howard agreed. She glared at him.

"Bags I Princess Arwen! Bagsies!" Amy called. The boys, with the exception of Ponder, looked at her in disbelief.

"Well, Bernadette can be Eowyn." Amy muttered.

Ponder and Johanna shared a bemused look.

++I can provide discreet explanatory notes, if they are needed++ the voice of HEX spoke out of the air. ++I am looking forward to witnessing this move cycle, which, by the way, whilst not being formal myth on this Roundworld, has attained the status of such in the minds of many devotees++ You will learn much of Roundworld by observing++ And by the way, it also calls for superb bladder control.++

And so they all watched the movie cycle. The whole six hours. Director's Extended Cut.

"Ah." said Ponder. "Moving pictures." He was doubtful. But he reasoned that as moving pictures were so integral to this world and it had not yet been taken over by Dungeon Dimension things, it was probably OK.

And then, as Sheldon inserted the first disk, he was drawn in...

They barely noticed Raj having an argument with the hapless fellow Indian who was delivering the dinner. As it was conducted in Hindi, the gist was lost on the rest of them, but by inference Sheldon supposed it had to do with his being indignant at the lift not working and his having to cart the food manually up three flights of stairs. Ponder, seeing the delivery person was upset about something and Raj's dismissive comments in the same language were not helping, worked according to the multiversal maxim of Thou Shalt Not Get The Person Who Is Handling Your Food Pissed Off With You.(5) He handed over a hundred dollars from his expenses money. Indian food for six people would, he had learnt, cost at least eighty. And the man deserved a tip... he thought about it, and added another twenty. He, Ponder Stibbons, had walked up and down those flights of stairs earlier; without being burdened with boxes and bags of scaldingly hot greasy food.

Suddenly the delivery man was all smiles and a folded-hands "Namaste!"

Raj looked on disapprovingly and said something short and sharp. Something very much shorter and sharper was said in return, and the delivery man departed.

"He would have been happy with ten dollars, Professor." Raj said. "Thirty was a little bit excessive. Believe me. My family in India has servants."

"At least he didn't spit in anything." Ponder said, practically. He knew what an Ankh-Morporkian delivery person would have done to the food if insulted and not paid off with a good tip. "What beer do you drink with this?"

And they watched Peter Jackson's masterwork. There were some trans-world confusions.

"Elves?" Johanna shouted, reaching forward for metal to touch. A table-knife was suddenly in her hand. "Bleddy Elves? Armed Elves?"

Ponder wondered if the Elves had engineered this work on this world in a subtle attempt to rehabilitate themselves as the good guys. He wouldn't put it past them. The others looked at her in confusion.

++Doctor Smith-Rhodes?++ This world has a different cultural perception of Elves.++I touch metal++. On this world and especially in this fable, they are a venerated elder race who in the mists of antiquity taught and nurtured the human race++They are portrayed as mainly benign, cultured, and sophisticated.++My advice to you is to observe this moving picture within the parameters the Roundworld people have assigned to it. ++I repeat, there is no danger here from Elves++I touch metal++.

"Well...yes. Of course we do. The Elder Race are good and benevolent and kind, and cannot stand Sauron and all things of evil." Sheldon said, perplexed. "Is it different on your Discworld?"

"Mainly benign..." Ponder repeated. He shook his head, disbeleivingly. He had once spent a whole terrifying night fighting real elves. Eithout bewnefit of a trained Assassin girlfriend. Although the Librarian had done most of the fighting, in the spirit of "guerilla warfare".

But the tale was easy to follow, when you made the necessary mental adjustments. It was also enthralling and exciting.

By the middle of the second film, Johanna found out about Aragorn, Meduseld, and why it is vitally important to respect the hereditary sword of the Heir to Arnor. But she still asked

"This fellow Eragorn. In the real world, he might hev been better off eccepting the position of Ceptain Of The Guard in a City Wetch somewhere, yesno?"

"Steady job." Ponder said. "No heroic adventuring. Safe bed to sleep in at night..." Ponder valued these things.

"End those werewolves!" she said. "Bleddy ugly things. No werewolf I hev met would ellow itself to be ridden by a goblin! They hev more self-respect than thet."

She tried to imagine Angua von Überwald with a small orc or a goblin on her back. She felt the goblin would only have lasted for as long as it took her to throw him off and bite his head off. The trolls were too smooth and organic and the werewolves too ugly. And the Orcs too ugly, vicious, filthy, and stupid. Like gnolls. Mr Nutt would not have been pleased.

"Sorry?" Leonard said. "You've met werewolves?"

"Ja. The one I know best would be quite bedly insulted by this portrayal. They ere a proud people, end in the main, ettrective in both forms. If you come to our world, I will introduce you, if time ellows."

"Hey! Seriously cool!" Howard said. "Any lady werewolves, you know, were-bitches?"

"One such is a velued friend, ja." she said. "End a word of edvice, Howard... you earn the right to use the b-word. She tolerates it from friends. She agrees it is fectuelly descriptive of her in et least one state, but it is not a word you use lightly on first meeting her. I hope this is understood."

Howard caught the warning note. He wondered if Johanna's werewolf friend was hot, as a human. But this was not the time to inquire, his self-preservation kicked in.

Towards the end of the second movie, Penny returned from her shift at the Cheesecake Factory, letting herself in without knocking. Sheldon deplored this. Johanna, Amy and Bernadette looked at each other.

"I call bagsies on the bathroom!" Amy declared, pre-empting the other two.

"Hi, guys!" Penny said. "Oh.. you're watching this again, huh? No wonder there's a queue for the bathroom. Not imposing a schedule on the girls, Moonpie? You're slipping!"

"I suppose we can call this an emergency comfort break, to take into account female evacuation needs." Sheldon said, grumpily. He did not seem happy about it.

"Hey, any of those samosas left? And you got poppadums and dips!" Penny exclaimed. She pulled up a seat and set about eating, after first putting down a large square box and a bottle of wine.

"Bernie? The guys at the Cheesecake Factory were real concerned about you nearly getting mugged, sweetie." Penny said, indistinctly. "They all put in and got you a cheesecake. The best. Boss threw in the red wine you like."

"Cheesecake?" Johanna said, perplexed. "Cake made from cheese? I confess, this sounds strange."

"Oh, sweetie! You don't have cheesecake on your planet? It's the best... hey, get plates! Get cutlery! There are two people here who ain't never eaten cheesecake before! Cheesecake virgins! I wanna watch them while they eat!"

"Efter my turn et the privy." Johanna said, as Amy returned. She had drunk a couple of sodas and two bottles of Cobra beer. Her bladder was protesting.

"We call it the bathroom on this world!" Sheldon shouted, as she ran for comfort. She ignored him.

Later on, Johanna ate cheesecake for the first time in her life. A little commercial voice was trying to get her conscious attention behind the flooding of cheesecake-endorphins. Penny watched, with an almost-maternal smile on her face. Johanna and Ponder – who as a wizard was trained not to refuse exotic new desserts - were making her night...

"Penny." Johanna said, feeling like an Auditor who has just tasted chocolate for the first time – and survived. "You are coming to the Discworld with me. Bring cheesecake. End the recipe."

And much later that night, without a word being said, Leonard crossed to Penny's apartment. Johanna, waiting in the hallway, made him jump. He simply had not seen her until she stepped out into the open. They exchanged greetings, and he courteously held open the apartment door for her.

Ponder welcomed her warmly. Sheldon had gone to bed and fallen asleep. The others had gone to their various homes.

"I'll just be a moment." he whispered. "I just need HEX to send me back in time by a day or so, so I can send an email to Sheldon Cooper. Or else there'll be an amazing temporal paradox."

She grinned, appreciating.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) In Roundworld academic circles, UEA is the acronym for the University of East Anglia, Norwich, Norfolk, England, which is a world-leader in superconductivity,( the applied and theoretical physics of what happens at extremely cold temperatures), in farming and agricultural science, especially as applied to developing economies, and despite an unfortunate recent business with dodgy statistics, its flagship remains the world-renowned Climactic Research Institute. Your humble author is one of its graduates, albeit from what Sheldon would describe as "the Inhumanities". On the Discworld, "UEA" is a lesser title of Unseen University – the acronym stands for University of the Esoteric and Arcane. It applied when Coin the Sourceror upgraded the University to the sort of ultra-modern brushed concrete and breezeblock that looks great at first, but soon dates and develops a permanent dingy patina of rain-sodden drywall. Or indeed sheetrock. See Sourcery by Terry Pratchett.

(2) To disambiguate from the Assassins' Guild School's other JSR, who would have been less than amused to discover an email in her inbox, if she were to have one, confirming the agreed window of time in which she might engage in any acts of coitus with her lover. Joan Sanderson-Reeves privately thought this was jolly unhygienic and in any case, while she appreciated the company of well-mannered gentlemen of the old school, she was too old for that, thank Io. And in any case her relationship with Mr Mericet did not include that sort of thing, thank you very much. Crossed emails to people with the same initials or similar names have caused no end of bother. Damn: FF won't even let me put FAKE email addresses in. I have therefore substituted the "a-in-a-circle" thing with the © used in Discworld clacks-mail addresses. Looks more plausible for the DW characters to use their c-mail addresses...

(3) I looked up Indian restaurants in Pasadena, CA, so as to get my facts right. From the look of the menu, I would bet a free dinner to anyone – should I ever find myself in Pasadena, CA – that the Sitar was founded by cooks who served their time in British-Indian eateries, as the menu is so tantalisingly familiar. It has that unique substance Chicken Tikka Masala on the menu, for one thing, a unique Indian curry that has never, ever, seen India, Bangladesh or Pakistan in its life. CTM was devised by Asian cooks in Britain as a "special" to meet the curry needs of the British palate. Essentially it's pieces of Tandoori chicken bound in a sauce which is essentially a curried tomato soup. Legend has it an Asian chef in Glasgow or Birmingham – accounts differ – created it on the spot in response to a customer request for something in a mildly curried tomato sauce. He used a large anonymous tin of catering tomato soup, cream and spices. And a legend was born. It is apparently in the Top Five of Britain's favourite foods.

And, a menu item to make expat Brits in California feel right at home: the Sitar restaurant in Pasadena, CA, does indeed serve balti curry (originated in Birmingham, England). I almost missed it: it appears on the menu as "Butter Curry", which is neatly descriptive of the cholesterol-laden heart-disease inducing Balti. (Meat, vegt and spices stewed in a bath of clarified butter, ghee). As the word "balti" literally means "bucket", this is probably why the name was changed, as Americans are more cautious than we are about the provenance of their restaurant food...

And the Sitar does takeaway kebabs. What is there not to like? Ah, you could feel at home there. If the Sitar Indian Cuisine on 618 E Colorado Blvd, Pasadena, CA 91101, tel. 626-449-5954 and fax : 626-796-0513 ever wishes to offer me a free dinner in return for the plug, I am open to entertaining the idea. Thank you.

(4) The wizards of Unseen University instinctively knew this and were punctiliously polite to their catering staff. Unfailingly so.

Chapter 7: The Epinephrene Activation

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter seven©

the Epiniphrene Activation

A long one this time, but it couldn't easily be split into two parts.

Two scientific questions, one philosophical with overtones of Quantum, one neurochemical.

The Xeno Paradox thing; If I go back in time, feel a need to evacuate my bladder, but shoot my grandfather first and then use his bathroom, can I be said, in any meaningful sense, to have used the bathroom at all?

Epinephrene: a neurochemical trigger which when suddenly released in excess in the hypothalamus, triggers the body's fight-or-flight reflex. Especially marked in prey species when they sense a nearby predator.

Saturday morning.

Johanna woke up early and wondered at the faint red letters on the wall, seemingly painted over many times but still just about readable, which appeared to read "Die, Sheldon, die!"

She looked fondly down on Ponder, who did not look as if he were going to be surfacing any time soon. Then swung her legs round and got out of bed.

There was only silence from Sheldon's room. She listened for a second or two, and categorised it as the silence of somebody inside the room, sleeping deeply, but with only the very occasional scrape or slither to advertise their presence and perhaps that tiny bit more warmth in the local atmosphere, subtly advertising there was a living human body nearby. She was trained to detect these subtle signs.

Better not wake him, then. (1)

++Good morning, Johanna++Did you sleep well?++

"Good morning, HEX! Yes, we slept well, thenk you for esking. Do you know where the coffee is? I hev no wish to ewaken Sheldon."

++Look on the cupboard underneath the free-standing fixture.++Milk is in the refrigerator behind you++A refrigerator is a machine working on the principle of equitable redistribution of heat via a gas exchange coil normally mounted to its rear++It keeps things cold++

HEX patiently guided her through the array of labour-saving devices the Californians used in a kitchen. Johanna had never seen any of these clever machines before. But she was a fast learner.

When Penny and Leonard came in without knocking, she was well advanced on preparing breakfast.

"Morning, sweetie!" Penny called, setting down a box of foodstuffs. "Did'ja sleep well?"

"Very well, ja! End you both?" She felt a light breeze on her neck and heard a faint "pop!" noise.

Is the bathroom free?" Ponder called. He was standing by the travelling machine, which was oscillating very slightly. Penny jumped. Johanna frowned. Odd. She would normally have sensed him approaching. He didn't usually go "pop!", though. Other noises, especially after a big University dinner, but never "pop!"(2)

"Errr.. just go straight in, Professor." Penny said.

"Thanks. It is after nine o'clock?"

"Five past." Leonard said.

Ponder grinned.

"Got to respect the room-mate agreement." he said. "You're OK? Did everything you need to in your half-hour?"

"Too late for me." Leonard said, shaking his head. "It's after nine. Sheldon gets touchy about these things. I used Penny's instead."

"Fair enough." Ponder said, and went into the bathroom. Johanna noticed he was already fully dressed and satisfactorily groomed. Odd. She'd left him sleeping...

"Let's do breakfast." said Penny.

Sheldon Cooper awoke to singing and two girls dancing around the kitchen, setting up breakfast and dancing to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Penny was still in minimal nightwear, just shorts and a low-cut vest top. Johanna was in a long t-shirt which Leonard recognised as one of his own. Although he wasn't complaining. He smiled and appreciated the show.

Sheldon appeared. He had his usual early-morning look of Ming The Merciless combined with irritated hamster.

"Morning, moonpie!" Penny said, dancing past him, stroking his cheek and blowing a kiss.

Completely unmoved by the minimal clothing and bared legs on display, Sheldon folded his arms and pursed his lips.

"And this is in aid of?" he inquired, coolly.

"Busy day today, sweetie." Penny said. Bernadette and Howard are over any minute. So's Raj. And Amy. I thought, we all have breakfast here, together. Then we get out with Ponder and Johanna. Show them some of the sights."

"Good plen." Johanna said, approvingly. "Got any bacon?"

"In the refrigerator." Leonard said. "It's in a box with the yellow biohazard sticker on it. Just don't touch anything marked "Sheldon".

Ponder Stibbons appeared again. He was dressed and washed, Johanna noted, in clothes probably borrowed from Leonard. They fitted well.

"Hi." he said. "Anyone in the bathroom?"

"Well... no..." Leonard said, doubtfully. Johanna frowned again.

"Thanks." Ponder said. He kissed Johanna on the cheek on the way to the bathroom. Well, she thought. It's Ponder alright. But I never saw him leaving the bathroom?

An inelegant clumping up the stairs to the open door announced Amy Farrah-Fowler.

"Bezzies!" she exclaimed, smiling widely. Penny skipped over to her, singing Whoa-hoa, girls – just wanna have fun! and drawing her into the song. Sheldon's lips pursed even further. Somebody said

"Oh. Sorry, didn't realise somebody was already in here. I'll wait."

Amy had picked up Raj on the way. Seeing Penny in her night-clothes and Johanna in a long t-shirt that barely covered her upper thighs, he gulped uncertainly and went a deeper, richer, brown.

"Come on, sweetie. You've seen me in less than this!" Penny exclaimed. "That's all we really wa-a-a-a-nt!"

Ponder yawned his way out of the bedroom, hair uncombed, unshaven and in shorts and t-shirt. He nodded at everyone, and met himself backing out of the bathroom.

"Bit of a queue, I'm afraid." Ponder said to Ponder. Ponder nodded.

"Early days yet." he remarked, as Ponder Stibbons left the bathroom. He nodded amiably at Ponder and Ponder, as Ponder Stibbons went into the bathroom. Johanna noted that the two fully dressed Ponders were dressed differently.

"Still, nothing HEX can't put right." Ponder said to himself. Everyone else went into a still disbelieving silence as they tried to digest what their eyes were telling them.

"Just long as we all remember what we've said and to whom." the just-out-of-bed Ponder said, as if this was nothing out of the ordinary. "Otherwise there'll be an amazing temporal paradox."

"Well, yes." Ponder said, digesting it. "But one school of thought suggests it's all sort of predestined and we'll say the right things at the right time anyway. We'll be forced to."

He paused.

"This is Saturday morning at eleven minutes past nine?"

"I'm dreaming this." muttered Penny.

"You're not." Johanna said, realising. A laugh bubbled up. "Penny, you're really not."

Howard and Bernadette arrived. They heard Howard say "Wonder what Johanna's wearing today...Ouch!" There was a pause, and he added "At least Sheldon cooks a good breakfast. One of the good things about him."

They walked in, Howard rubbing his upper arm and Bernadette smiling her pinball smile. It took a few moments for her to register, but she blinked twice and said

"Twins? No... triplets?"

Another Ponder Stibbons popped into existence. There was a "pop!" noise and a little outrushing of displaced air.

"Quadruplets?"exclaimed Bernadette. She jumped.

"Well, I'm from eight o'clock on Tuesday evening." one of the Ponders said. "you're obviously the Ponder from Saturday morning, the one who belongs here, as you're not dressed yet. Besides, I remember seeing me."

"I'll try again tomorrow, shall I?" the newly arrived Ponder said, courteously. "I'm from ten o'clock tonight, by the way."

"Would somebody like to tell me what's going on?" Sheldon demanded, with some heat.

The fourth Ponder excused himself.

"Ask Ponder." he said, and disappeared. There was a pop!" noise and a slight breeze of inrushing air.

"Back to triplets, then." Amy observed. Sheldon glared at the nearest Ponder. Another Ponder took the opportunity to get into the bathroom.

"Don't take too long." the original Ponder called. "I need to shower and shave."

"Well?" Sheldon Cooper demanded.

"I think you'll find this is wholly in keeping with the Room-mate Agreement." Ponder said, mildly. "Nobody is going to be using the bathroom after nine-thirty a.m."

"And... you're using your time-machine, right!" Leonard said, realising.

"We only get half an hour, Leonard." Ponder said. "And nobody ever said it had to be nine till nine-thirty on the same day. Sheldon, if it makes you any happier, you can look on this as maximising efficiency and capacity? It's a basic principle of good engineering... oh, you're finished? Thanks! Got to shower." he excused himself.

A relieved Ponder Stibbons smiled at them.

"Got to go. I'm from tomorrow, by the way. Five o'clock."

"Does anything happen in the next day we need to know about?" Amy asked. "I mean, yesterday Bernie got mugged..."

Ponder considered this.

"Sorry, can't answer." he said. "Temporal paradox and all that. But today's good. You might like it. Keep an eye on the cars, bee-tee-double-you. Got to go!" There was another "pop!"

"God-damn!" Howard said. He looked at the time-travelling machine speculatively.

"Hex?"

"++Yes, Howard?++

"Could you, you know, bring back another two of Bernadette from the future and deliver them to the apartment? For about, say, thirty minutes?There's something I've always wanted to do, and it involves identical triplets... OUCH!"

++I think you have your answer, Howard++

"Hey , what was that for?" Howard demanded, rubbing his arm. "It's not as if I was gonna be unfaithful to you. Not technically, at least."

"Hey, three of Leonard..." Penny breathed. "No, better make it at least five. And a sixth for emergencies. In case one don't work."

Leonard did a bit of quick math.

"Seven of me?" he asked. He looked incredulously at Penny, who looked straight back at him. Her eyes dared him to argue.

"I don't do things by halves, sweetie." she said. "You should know that by now."

"Or sevenths..." Leonard muttered.

"What gets me is that you only gave it thirty minutes!" Bernadette said, indignantly. "I mean, buster, three of me, you're gonna want to give me more than ten lousy minutes!"

Raj whispered something insistent into Howard's ear and looked towards Sheldon. Howard nodded.

"Yeah, you're right, dude. HEX, don't try this one with Sheldon. One of him's enough."

Sheldon scowled at him.

"I was thinking it might have practical applications for the next Physics Bowl." he said, with affronted dignity.

"Wouldn't that pose a problem, Sheldon?" Leonard asked, after a group wince.

"How so?" Sheldon demanded. "Four trans-temporal versions of me, and nobody else to share the glory with when I inevitably triumph. A plan with no drawbacks."

"Sheldon," Leonard said, patiently. "Who does it leave for you to blame when you inevitably screw up?"

++It also poses problems from an ethical perspective++ HEX said from out of the air. ++Whichever time I extract three alternative Sheldons from, they would, from the point in time in which the Physics Bowl takes place, already have participated and therefore, with full eidetic memory, would already know the questions and the answers++ It would therefore contravene the rules++

And then breakfast was ready. Conversation turned to the Lord of the Rings film trilogy they'd watched the previous night.

"This Minas Tirith." Johanna said. "A very impressive citedel. I would not like to be part of eny ermy essailing it. I found it herd to believe it wes not real, end only a pert of the moving-pictures' maker's ert."

"Ah yes." Sheldon said. "The white citadel of Gondor, built into the living rock of the mountain, Man and Nature in harmony."

Johanna nodded.

"Ja." she said. "But are man end mountain in full harmony in terms of the plumbing? Many thousands of people must live there. Where ere the privvies? How is the plumbing organised? The drainage would hev to be very, very, good. End the people tesked with building sewers end driving them, unseen through the living rock. Even if they rely on septic tenks, these must be emptied periodicelly. If I were besieging the place, I would hold beck eny essault for some months, perheps locate end block up ell the outlet pipes. End then wait."

"Er, Johanna? Don't spoil their illusions, sweetie." Penny said, softly. She shuddered at Johanna's proposed strategy for investing the city, and wondered why General Gothmorg or whoever the big ugly Orc was called hadn't thought of that. It would be truly evil...

Sheldon shuddered too.

"Well, in normal circumstances, a lot less of the people of Gondor dwelt in the citadel." he tried to explain. "In the time of the siege, the city was augmented by refugee folk driven out of the City of Osgiliath by war. I'm certain Osgiliath would have had..." he shuddered again "...adequate bathroom facilities for its population."

Johanna looked at him gravely.

"And so whetever toileting end sewerage facililties the Citadel hed would hev been overwhelmed by a messive influx of refugees who would overload it." she said. "Victory to the besiegers."

Ponder wondered about this. The Dwarfs of the Discworld lived in deep caverns in the rocks. They must need to, er, go to the bathroom too.. all that rat produce must set up a biological imperative... he intervened to bring the discourse back to a place that would not spoil the illusions of their hosts.

"Johanna, earlier in the film cycle we saw the Fellowship wandering through what had once been a massive Dwarf city in the mountains." he reminded her.

"Ja. Like Bonk end the Schmeltzberg." she said. "Thet pert of the film was impressive end eccurete."

"So with tens of thousands of Dwarfs having lived in a city carved from rock. Can you imagine their problems with the plumbing? Yet they must have come up with a solution. You'd expect Dwarfs to migrate to the big city, like they do to Ankh-Morpork. Maybe Minas Tirith ran on Dwarf plumbing."(3,4)

This seemed like an acceptable compromise solution. With no desire to discuss Middle Earth's sanitary arrangements over breakfast, the conversation moved on.

"Those Dwarfs, though." Ponder said, thoughtfully.

"Aren't they cool!" Howard agreed. "Amazing costumes and weapons!"

"Ja." Johanna said. "But generally they do not fight in ceremonial armour. Even though warfare hes its ceremonial espects. End the weapons were too ornate. Those were funeral weapons, the ones crefted to go into the rock with a Dwarf et their burial. They normally fight with plain, but very very good, exes end mettocks. No ornamentation. Just good steel end sherp edges. Very sherp edges."

Everybody looked at her. She continued.

"But very good fighters, though. Thet Gimli, for instance!"

"Oh yes. Gimli at Helm's Deep. Victor in forty-two single combats against Orcs!"

Johanna nodded. "Gimli. Most impressive. Although I don't understend why she refused combet egainst humans, claiming they were too large for her. Dwerfs on my world would hev fought regardless, end aimed their blows et the knees end the groin."

"SHE?" Leonard exclaimed, after digesting the dissonant pronoun.

"Ja. She. Gimli was definitely female, when you know whet to look for. I understood thet all Dwerfs are "he" and "him" end "Gloinsson out of convention, especially in treditional communities. But she reminded me of a Dwerf friend on the Discworld, especially when Galedriel showed her a different way for females to present themselves. Like my friend Cheery, she wes somewhet overcome to see femininity end realise there is a different way."

"Your Dwarves are female?" Leonard burst out.

"Epproximately fifty per cent are, ja." she agreed. "Elthough it is difficult for the untrained eye et first."

""It was said by Gimli that there are few Dwarf-women, probably no more than a third of the whole people. They seldom walk abroad except at great need. They are in voice and appearance, and in garb if they must go on a journey, so like to the Dwarf-men that the eyes and ears of other peoples cannot tell them apart. This has given rise to the foolish opinion among Men that there are no Dwarf-women, and that the Dwarves 'grow out of stone'." quoted Sheldon.

"Thet's how it is!" Johanna said. "It sounds es if Gimli wes dropping a great big hint ebout herself there. It would not hev been proper, in Dwarf convention, for her to outright state "yes, I em a female".

There was a silence. Johanna was sitting on the central spot of the sofa nest to Sheldon; Penny had moved over to her right. Both were sitting with legs tucked up under them. Howard and Raj were sitting opposite and trying not to stare too obviously. The girls graciously ignored this.

"Really, hon? Lady dwarfs?" Penny asked. She was grinning.

"Really so! When you visit my world, I will introduce you to Cheery. She would like you!"

"Seriously cool..." Howard said.

Breakfast finished.

"What's the plan for today?" Amy Farrah-Fowler asked. Privately, she was eager to visit this Discworld. She romantically viewed herself as dressing like a stately and lovely Elf-Queen, re-inventing herself in a whole new world, despairingly loved by all. It fitted in with the inner Amy in a big way.

"Well." Johanna said, slipping off the coach, aware of Howard surreptitiously trying to see up her night-shirt. For some reason this amused her. She reached up, aware of the male gaze upon her as the hem of the nightshirt rose up her leg, and took down one of the replica swords from the wall. She took a couple of practice swings.

Made of some sort of trophy metal with plasticated ornamentation. Too ornate. Unbalanced. You would be lucky to hit the man standing next to your target. And even then the sword would break. These are meant for display, not for practical use.

She heard Howard and Raj make gulping noises as she dummied a few blows.

Emmanuelle at the Guild School would snap this over her thigh and swear and throw the pieces away. Then she'd demand to know who had brought a piece of verdammte dreck like this into class, and make sure they knew what a real sword looks and feels like.

She stored a thought for future use. Then returned the display weapon to the wall and took down a blade that was wholly unfamiliar to her. It took the form of a semicircular crescent-shaped blade, whose extreme points were linked by a long bar which she deduced was meant to be gripped by both hands spaced widely apart, with the blade pointing out.

Ah.

She held it in front of her with both hands, then made a few moves, allowing her body to flow in the ways the weapon seemed to dictate.

You can thrust with it. It also allows you to block moves made by a blade-armed foe. The weapon is its own defensive shield. A different stance allows you to hack. Slash. Or thrust with the points... they can stab most effectively..

"Wow!" somebody said, appreciatively. Sheldon's voice was explaining that she was executing the most perfect bet'leh moves. "Oh, that was a positively stunning mek'leH offense!"... he sounded incredibly excited.

The language he is using sounds like a Dwarf with catarrh and half a rat stuck in his throat. Now if I do this, shift my right hand to this alternative central hand-hold..

"Ouch!" said Howard. Like Raj and Leonard, he was appreciating not so much her bat'leth moves, as the spectacle of an attractive woman, who wasn't wearing very much, going through gymnastic moves with a large bladed weapon. What wasn't there to like? Except the fact Bernadette had just slapped him.

"She's like this." Ponder explained. He was appreciating it too. "It's a brand-new weapon. Can I buy her one anywhere for Hogswatch?"

"Comic-book store!" Leonard said. "we gotta go there!"

"Uh.. Johanna? Sweetie?" Penny urged, concerned. Johanna came down from the special place of the trained fighter, aware the night-shirt was riding up around her thighs, intently observed by three hypnotically entranced men, Ponder Stibbons (who knew what to expect)... and Sheldon Cooper, who'd only been watching the sword-play. She patted the hem down, holding the bat'leth in her other hand. Held centrally, it balanced beautifully.

"I like this weapon." she said. "it hes possibilities. The Agatean people on my world have something similar, elthough it is usually mounted on a steff end used es a pole-weapon. Whet is its name?"

"You are holding a standard combat Bat'letH of the Klingon warrior people." Sheldon said, portenteously. "Its name means Sword of Honour. That is the regulation sized weapon carried by Klingons aboard their Bird of Prey battleships, although there is a smaller version meant to be held in one hand, the Mek'LetH. I believe I may have one I can show you? There is also the Sword of Kahless, which is larger and deadlier, but the original of which was lost into the void so as to prevent civil war among the Klingon Houses.."

Sheldon went scurrying to find the alternative version.

"I believe I understood some of that." she said. She swung the weapon thoughtfully.

"Sweetie, it isn't real." Penny said. There was a horrified gasp at the blasphemy. "The Klingons are an alien race on a TV show. Ugly guys with corrugated foreheads. The sword was invented for the show. (5)Star Trek."

"It is still a bleddy good weapon." Johanna said. "Ponder, we must find out where to obtain these. The Guild would be interested. Besides, I so much look forward to seeing the look on Emmie's face when I present her with one!"

"Should you both get dressed?" Amy Farrah-Fowler urged. "We've still got all those clothes to try on! And for the record, some girls are perfectly happy if their boyfriends buy them tiaras."

Penny grinned. "Good point, sweetie! If Johanna goes out dressed like that and waving a freaking great blade, people's minds are gonna fuse! Besides, I ain't showered yet."

"That's noticeable." Sheldon Cooper said, wrinkling his nose. "While it isn't totally offensive yet, would you ladies care to perform basic hygienic administration before I consider it a formal strike?"

"Come on, Sheldon. Penny never smells bad!" Amy said, proving the point by standing behind her and taking a deep appreciative sniff. "Ah. I love the smell of fresh pheromenes in the morning!"

"I ain't complaining either." Howard added. "Hot gals working up a sweat. You can't ever get offended by it."

"I will shower." Johanna decided. "Ponder, perheps you cen show courtesy to our host by weshing up the breakfast things? It is only correct."

"Help him, Leonard." Penny said, standing up. She looked round, suspecting Amy might attempt to sniff the sofa where she'd been sitting.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gang rode out together in two cars, stopping second at the Comic Book Store.

Their first stop had been at Mrs Wolowitz'. Although Howard was married and living with Bernadette, his mother was pleased to see him every day, stressing that she wasn't forcing him to do so and he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart and out of consideration for his old nearly house-bound mother who lived alone, as a good Jewish boy should, Howard!

While the rest of the gang were eating the obligatory second breakfast downstairs, Johanna had gleaned that the purpose of the day was to prepare Mrs Wolowitz to attend synagogue in a suitably fitting and appropriately dressed state. Bernadette had sighed at the prospect and looked as if she were steeling herself for an unpleasant but necessary duty. Amy and Penny had embarrassedly avoided meeting her glance. Noblesse oblige...

"Howard, does your mother require a lot of essistence?" Johanna had asked.

Bernadette's eyes had been silently pleading.

"I'm sure she'd like to meet you." he said, reading the signs. He then took a deep breath.

"MOM! WE GOT NEW COMPANY!"

"WHO ARE THEY, HOWARD? MORE FRIENDS CALLING ROUND FOR A PLAYDATE? YOU DON'T PLAN TO INTRODUCE ME ANY TIME SOON? WHAT, ARE YOU ASHAMED OF YOUR OWN MOTHER?"

Bernadette surprised Johanna. Her voice was loudest of all.

"SHE'S A VISITING RESEARCHER AT CALTECH! SHE'D SURE LIKE TO MEET YOU, MRS WOLOWITZ!"

"SHE? WELL, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? IS SHE SINGLE? HAVE YOU INTRODUCED HER TO THAT NICE BOY RAJESH? HE SURE NEEDS A NICE GIRL. ANY GIRL!"

"I'LL BRING HER UP, MRS WOLOWITZ!"

Bernadette took Johanna's hand and hustled her up the stairs. Penny looked at Amy.

"That was ruthless." she said, eventually. Amy shrugged.

"If I had to hose down Howard's mom every Saturday morning, I'd be ruthless, too." said Amy.

Johanna and Bernadette came down the stairs some time later.

"Do you hev to do thet every week?" Johanna asked. Bernadette nodded, grimly. Johanna squeezed her hand in sympathy. It hadn't been too bad an experience, she supposed. She'd had to hand-wash and medicate a rhinoceros with a skin condition at the Zoo. Hippos and very large seals and walruses posed management problems too. In a way she'd been used to it. And underneath the need to shout and screech, Howard's mother had been grateful for the care and attention, repeatedly asking "ARE YOU JEWISH, JOHANNA? THAT'S A GOOD JEWISH NAME. THERE'S A JOHANNA IN SCRIPTURE. SHE GETS A WHOLE BOOK TO HERSELF! THERE ARE LOADSA JEWISH FOLK WITH RED HAIR. YOU'RE A GOOD GIRL. YOU KNOW ABOUT DUTY TO FAMILY. TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FAMILY. YOUR MOM MUST MISS YOU."

Howard had, with Ponder's assistance, helped Mrs Wolowitz into one of the cars to take her to her temple for the morning service.

YOU KIDS EAT! ENJOY! THERE'S PLENTY!

The rear of the car had dropped to an alarmingly small distance above the road surface, but Howard appeared used to this, drawing out carefully and relatively slowly. Johanna raised an eyebrow.

"It sure explains a lot about Howard". Leonard said. "We've all been to other places and moved to here. He lived here till he was nearly thirty. The thing with him around women, for instance."

"Classical overcompensation." Amy said, spreading a latke with apple sauce. "He feels compelled to assert himself, often inappropriately, with women who are not his mother. You must have noticed, Johanna."

"Ja, but so long as he does not get too offensive." she said, regarding the breakfast spread. "Much cen be forgiven. This is a sort of bread, yesno?"

"Spread it with the cream cheese and put some of the lox on top." Penny advised her. "Hon, food to die for!"

"I believe I recognise it." Johanna said. She wasn't hungry, but she appreciated a new taste. "On my world, this would be food known in parts of Kletch. Omnia hes a cuisine like this. Smale, end the Cenotine country. Howard's mother is very Cenotine."

"You got Jews on your world?" Leonard asked. He didn't sound surprised.

They compared notes. Judaism worshipped one god and one only. So did Omnians and their older, parent religion, that of the Cenotines. The Cenotines were an old, old, people who had suddenly appeared on the Discworld about three or four thousand years ago. They had brought sacred holy books with them, the meaning of which they continually disputed.

Judaism was bound about with taboo and ritual, a large part of which concerned permissible foodstuffs. The Cenotines also had an aversion to pork and forbade mixing meat with dairy produce. There were kosher butchers on the Discworld. The shared word meant the same on both worlds.

Both religions had spawned a schismatic religion – in Roundworld's case, two – that had grown to be bigger, more strident, and aggressive, than the parent. Johanna remarked that the Cenotines, these days, were most known for having created the golem, an inert humanoid made out of clay that once activated by a holy chem, was virtually immortal, invulnerable and unstoppable.

"Ah." Sheldon Cooper said. "A virtually invulnerable wandering monster first encountered in Level Three, which may be bound to the will of a magic user by judicious use of the correct spells. Based on the mediaeval myth of Rabbi Loew of Prague, who according to the account first mastered the secret of making a man out of clay and animating it by writing a chem on its brow. Mary Wolstonecroft Shelley revisited the idea when she updated it, in the Age of Reason, to incorporate the idea of a flesh golem made out of human bodily parts. Frankenstein, f.y.i, is not the name of the monster, but of its maker, Herr Baron Doktor Frankenstein. I find it distressing how so many people make that fundamental error!"

"Isn't thet en Igor thing?" Johanna asked. Sheldon smiled, smugly.

"I'm afraid this is another little confusion. In the later films of the Frankenstein story, Igor was in fact Doctor Frankenstein's laboratory assistant."

Johanna nodded. That fitted. And Matron Igorina had told her about the All-Time Top Ten Mad Marsters, who included a Herr Doktor Finklestein.

Howard and Ponder returned. Ponder looked shaken and out of breath, as if he'd been doing manual labour supporting a heavy load. Both were wearing little black skullcaps, she noted.

"Sorry it took so long." Howard apologised. "Mom made me stay for at least as long as it took to say Sh'ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Eḥad . And to tell me not to forget I'm Jewish. They took Ponder for Jewish too. Well, you could see why." (6)

"Dark hair, glasses, not athletic build, not married, university professor. Yup, easy mistake." agreed Leonard.

"Well, Howie, you can take the yermulkah off now." Bernadette said. "you too, Ponder."

They cleared up the breakfast things as a courtesy and washed up the plateware. Then drove on to the Comic Book Shop.

Johanna wondered why the men went in first, almost rushing to be in a favourite place. Ponder was swept in with them.

"Boys and their toys, sweetie." Penny said. The three native girls stood in the doorway and looked at each other, reluctant to enter. Amy took a deep breath.

"Looks like it's me first." she said.

"Short straw, hon." Penny replied. The other three followed, more or less reluctantly. Johanna followed on, recognising the feel and dank old-papery smell of the place: Dave's Stamps, Pins and Agatean Man-Gi Comic Books Exchange, on Cripes Alley in Dolly Sisters. Ponder sometimes went there.(7) She had been content to wait outside. Even though good practice dictated that a female Assassin should be prepared to go in anywhere she liked,(8) if only just to point out that she can, Johanna did not feel a need to enforce this all the time.

She adjusted the set of her black veldt hat(9) and stepped in.

All conversation stopped. A motley group of exclusively male shop-browsers were suddenly all attention. Heads looked up from racks of comics, and attention was diverted away from the sort of tie-in models that Man-Gi comics were now attracting. Johanna took them in. So there were Dibblers on this world. She had wondered where they were and what they marketed.

"Hi boys!" said Amy, who seemed pleased with the attention and scrutiny. Penny and Bernadette looked at each other and shrugged.

Johanna went to explore the place. Eyes followed her. The most obvious belonged to a shapeless sort of man in elasticated loose trousers and a grubby grey t-shirt. He was unshaven, and she supposed his breath would smell if she got too close. She reminded herself not to bend too far over things whilst wearing a top like this.

"Ah. " she said, breaking the silence. "Man-gi comics, yesno?"

The guy at the counter, who'd been covertly observing her, sharply said

"We prefer it to be pronounced manga, please!" he said, in a voice as hang-dog as his appearance. Johanna smiled at him. He looked as if his particular human lineage had been descended from birds (10). Specifically, the Lappet-Faced Worrier of Lancre, a bird not so much of prey as of desperate prayer, to a God it suspected wasn't listening.

"You must be Stuart." she said, assembling information. "Hello. I'm pleased to meet you. There may be pieces of equipment thet you cen provide!"

She extended a hand. He took it.

"She's with us." Leonard said, proudly.

"Yeah. Special discount!" added Howard. "As per Agreement."

Stuart was finding it hard to let go of her hand. Johanna found herself exploiting this.

"This is Doctor Johanna Famke Smith-Rhodes of the University of Witwatersrand in South Africa." Sheldon Cooper explained. "Which, as you will no doubt know, is a very prestigious institution with a world reputation in botany and zoology through its School of Animal, Plant and Environmental Sciences. She will be working with us at Caltech."

"Ja, I'm from APES." she confirmed. She'd read her background research notes. The acronym amused her. (11)

"And we got to show her around." Howard added. "Ain't we the lucky ones!"

"And of course Professor Stibbons, too." Sheldon added. "On a visit from the U.E.A. University in Norwich, England. (12). Astrophysics, particle physics, and theoretical and applied Quantum mechanics."

Stuart spared him barely a glance.

"Hi, Prof." he said, not taking his eyes away from Johanna.

"So we get the special discount, right? The Arrangement?" Howard prompted him.

Stuart grunted, non-commitally. The Arrangement stated that if the Caltech gang persuaded any hot chicks to pass through the door of the comic store and stay for an negotiable length of time, they got discount. And today they'd brought four... well, three... but hell, he'd once dated Amy, so back up to four again.. and one was a very easy-on-the-eye new face. Green eyes, too. And red hair. Kinda like Poison Ivy, in the Batman 'verse. And the new professor looked like the kinda guy who was into comics.

Putting aside a growing feeling that the amused green eyes opposite him had seen a lot, Stuart asked

"So what can we do for you, Doctor?"

"Please. Cell me Johanna." she said. "Stuart, I wish to acquire bat'leths. I am told you may be able to provide them."

"I may be able to do that, yes." he agreed. "What sort of price-range were you thinking of?"

"First ellow me to consult with my financial edvisor." she said, taking the opportunity to withdraw her hand. She brought out the cellphone, dialled a random set of numbers for the look of it, and said

"Mr Hex? Doctor Smith-Rhodes, here."

++Good morning, doctor. How may I assist you?++

A vaguely metallic voice speaking out the air was not anything out of the ordinary and went without comment.

"Es you know, Mr Hex, I hev recently errived in the United States end I em not yet completely femiliar with the local currency. Please edvise me es to the total amount I mey draw on, expressed in United States Dollars. Please do not tell me verbally, but send a text messege. Thenk you. I will hold."

A moment or two later, a figure appeared on screen. Penny, standing behind Johanna, looked down in curiosity.

"Sweet freakin' holy sacred cow!" she breathed.

"Wow..." said Howard. "So being an academic in South Africa pays that well?"

"I elso hev a little femily money." Johanna shrugged. "End certain contrect work I perform pays well."

Ponder winced.

++I can elso advise you that you have a very good credit rating++ HEX said. ++I will text you your current Visa credit card limit++

Another number flashed up on screen. Penny made little high-pitched back of the throat sound. Howard whistled.

++I spoke to the decision-making people at Visa.++Their computer was pleased to allow you a high limit.++

I'll bet it was persuaded, Ponder thought. HEX is good at these things.

"Thenk you, Mr Hex." she said. "You hev been most helpful."

++Have a good day, Doctor Smith-Rhodes++Please remind Professor Stibbons that he also designated me to act as his financial advisor whilst in this country.++I note that thus far, he has only paid for an Indian dinner and a tank of gas++.HEX signed off.

"OK" Stuart breathed. "From the reactions of people I know and usually trust, I concede you can pay for the item. But, er, while I would be too happy to sell you the item in question, I just need to ask a few questions. You're obviously over twenty-one? Err. Your address and phone number?"

"Any excuse, Stuart!" Penny said.

"You gotta try... do you intend to carry the item elsewhere in the lower forty-eight, across any state lines? As these items are downright illegal in some states, and I don't really want the FBI calling round again." He paused. "Howard. There was a case in Colorado where a guy dressed up as a Klingon and robbed a bank. Carrying a batleth. Problem was, he'd bought it here. So I gotta play by the rules."

"I understand" Johanna said.

"You don't intend to export them outside the USA? Many countries have got regulations on this. Strict ones."

"I do not intend to take them to eny country on this planet, no." she said, with absolute honesty.

"But when you return to South Africa?"

"They will not be returning with me to Sed-Efrrika, no." she assured him, again with complete scrupulous honesty.

"Come here first when you want to sell them on. I'll broker it for you."

"I will bear you in mind, Stuart. You are being most helpful." She smiled at him again.

"Do you have martial arts experience?" he asked. "It makes it safer and easier to move with these items and wield them appropriately I can sell you a Klingon martial arts manual explaining the positions and moves."

"Yes." Johanna said, thinking of her Guild colleague, Miss Pretty Butterfly. She taught Agatean Culture, which included lots of ways to smash somebody's kidneys out through their navel.

"Including weapon skills?"

"I believe I qualify." she said, straight-faced.

"Purpose of purchase?"

"Learning end teaching. I wish to edd it to my skills-set."

"Do you know any certified weapons teachers licenced to work with live blades?"

"Yes." she said, thinking of her Guild colleague Emmanuelle les-Deux-Epées, who taught swords and bladed weapons. She wondered if Emmie might like a short holiday in the USA. "A very close friend is licenced to teach the safe... well the eppropriate... use of bladed weapons, up to end incuding the sherp ones. I work with her often."

Stuart nodded.

"I can sell you a batleth with a cold blade. That is, blunted and dulled for entertainment and recreational use only."

"How many do you hev for sale right now?"

"They're expensive items to keep on stock. I've got three in the back room. But they're made of weapon-grade steel. No junk. You can get a sword-smith to put an edge on them, but you ain't heard that from me."

"Thet sounds ecceptible." she said, thinking professionally about the potential for disaster if Howard, Leonard and Sheldon got hold of sharp edges. Better she taught them on dulled blades. "In principle, I cen buy them. All three."

Stuart tried not to show retailers' ecstacy at a rare customer with lots of money. And who, as a bonus, was also hot. He glanced nervously down at her chest. Hell, those freckles go all the way down...

"I'll go get them. Hey, Captain Sweatpants! Stop making the ladies feel uncomfortable!"

Howard and Leonard were looking at her hopefully. She smiled generously at them. The guy in the stained grey t-shirt and sweatpants backed off from Bernadette.

"If I em to teach you some weapon-hendling skills" she said, "we mey es well begin with blades you like, end hev hendled before. I do not see Rajesh?"

"Oh, he's..." Leonard nodded to the rear of the shop. Raj was in deep communion with a waif-like young girl with bobbed black hair and big, startled, eyes. Johanna assessed her. Descended from deer. Muntjak, probably. Spook her and she'll run. She's already apprehensive for hunters.

"A friend of his?" she said quietly to Penny.

"Yeah, that's Lucy. Nice kid, but really nervy. If she sees us taking interest she'll run out back or bail out through the bathroom window. And that's kinda hard on Raj. He really likes her."

"Better we take no notice, then. Stuart, let me see the goods!"

Johanna weighed up one of the batleths. Then she went through a display of some of the fighting moves she'd instinctively evolved that morning, becoming one with the weight and balance and logic of the weapon. As she was wearing shorts, she was not inhibited this time about incorporating high kicks and pirouettes.

The whole store stopped and watched, a haze of frustrated male pheromenes. Even the shy Lucy watched, open-mouthed. Eventually, Johanna stopped and rested the weapon.

These are nice batleths. And genuine weapon steel, I em pleased to see. I think I shell buy them."

She had learnt about the tell-tales of poorly cast or engineered steel. A Dibbler sword that snapped in two – or humiliatingly, bent double – during combat was an expensive liability. And while this Stuart had a little Dibbler in him, these articles were good enough, at least for training.

"Fifteen hundred dollars each..." he said, after some inner battle had taken place. Johanna was reaching for the magical plastic card marked VISA, the card HEX had assured her would buy anything. But Leonard and Penny together blocked her arm.

"Wait on, sweetie." Penny said.

"Discount, Stuart." said Leonard, firmly. "Normally you'd pay good dollar to hire somebody to put on a display like that. Everyone here got to see it for free."

"And the Arrangement, Stuart." Howard reminded him.

Johanna caught on. She was expected to haggle.

"Thirteen hundred and fifty each." Stuart said.

"A thousand." Leonard repeated, doing the haggling for her.

"Twelve hundred and fifty." Stuart repeated. These genuinely were expensive items to keep on the store inventory.

"Three thousand five hundred for all three." Johanna said. Stuart nodded.

"Gut. End anything my friends wish to buy, within reason, I will pay for also. End in the circumstances you can throw in those Princess Leeia costumes for my friend Amy. She hes been very kind to me. I do not forget my friends."

She paused, and deliberately added, "Elso, if my friend Rajesh wishes to treat the young lady he is with. I'm sorry, I do not yet know your name?"

There was a pause. And scampering feet. Johanna gave Penny her credit card. "Pay the man. I will not be long."

Johanna was a good huntress. She knew to let the prey come to where she was waiting. As Lucy, panic-stricken, slid out of the bathroom window, to her horror she saw the athletic redhead was already there and waiting for her, behind the store.

"Please!" Johanna said, raising her hands. "I mean you no harm. Will you sit end talk to me?"

She knew something about dealing with shy and scared young girls. She taught them, after all, and just now and again one arrived at the Guild school who was more introvert and retiring than usual. This did not make for a happy time at a boarding school, and she had learnt how to draw them out more.

Fifteen minutes later, she and Lucy re-entered the store through the front door. Lucy was still trembling, but took a deep breath.

"Comfort zones. Remember? Sometimes we ell need to step out of them." Johanna said, with gentle kindness. The prompt worked.

"Hi everybody. Hi, Amy. Nice to see you again. I think I should introduce myself. My name is Lucy..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) It was held to be only courteous that if an Assassin had a professional need to enter a bedroom by night, they should ideally wait for the occupant to awaken before announcing who they were and the purpose of their visit. It counted as good manners, after all.

(2) Johanna was fair-minded and felt after a dinner at the University, she was in no position to complain, as Unseen University's catering made her rumble, too.

(3) Human plumbing on the Discworld largely revolved around things travelling downwards until they were suitably out of sight, out of mind, and Somebody Else's Problem. Gravity was the friend of the human plumber. That and running water. Those and the Grand Cloaca Maxima, and then the Estuary. Dwarfs had the opposite engineering problem. Things that urgently needed to go out of sight, out of mind, and become somebody else's problem, had to travel upwards. Gravity was a Dwarf drainage engineer's enemy. Devices helped, if there was no suitable underground cavern a long way from anywhere with a resident Vurm and land-eel population that ultimately turned it into, er, more Vurms and land-eels.(4) Not many humans lived near the sewage upfalls from a Dwarf settlement. Those that did, however, were amazingly rich tomato-farmers. The yield on that land was amazing.

(4) Land-eels were a part of the staple diet of goblins, kobolds, nickels and other underground denizens. Everything has its place in a rich ecology. By arrangement with their Dwarf neighbours, however, they left the useful Vurms pretty much alone.

(5) Really true. Martial arts expert Dan Curry was tasked with devising a culturally significant weapon for the Klingon race, to be unveiled in Star Trek:TNG. He went away and thought about how weapons evolve, the cultural significance they have, the history and legend that build around them, and how a very effective weapon could be designed. He reasoned that weapons and fighting styles grow together, and devised not only the Bat'letH, but a whole school of martial arts to go with it, so that the weapon could be seen to be realistically convincing – the acid test was, "could you fight a real to-the-death combat with it? - and the moves feasible, in terms of a battle to the death where nobody was messing around. The weapon, as Johanna has commented, has its roots in a three thousand years old Chinese blade, that could be used either as a hand-weapon or as a polearm. The fighting style is modified tai-chi. This makes for an effectively exotic and alien weapon on TV. Many American states – and Great Britain - have classified the bat'letH as a deadly weapon which is illegal if carried in public. People attending Trekkie conventions have to make do with replica blades which have been deliberately blunted, and they have to be covered if carried outside the convention hall. Paramount Pictures and the ST franchise do not authorise official replica versions for this reason. But they are built and marketed as expensive replicas, often with lethally sharp blades, as it is not illegal to privately own them. Amusingly, a bank in Colorado was once held up by a bat'letH armed Klingon villain...

(6) The most visually famous Wizard, on whom Pratchett artists have gleefully based their portrayals of Ponder Stibbons, is of course Harry Potter. The actor made famous for portraying Harry Potter in film is Daniel Radcliffe – a non-practicing Jew.

(7) He bought a comic called Full Metal Chemist, which he steadily maintained was so he could express professionally informed criticism of the magic and science. Ponder was so thorough about this that he bought every issue. And others, just to make sure.

(8) The lady Assassins had learnt this from the Witches, and thought it was a good principle.

(9) Lord Downey had steeled himself to suggest to Johanna that she might, er, just possibly, whenever it was convenient, make more of an effort to dress like an Assassin, in the regulation black. As opposed to, er, khaki. Which while it conveys a certain, errr, is not Assassin-standard. mindful of lord Vetinari wanting all Guild members to, err, dress the part, and all that, obviously doesn't need to be done today, but perhaps some time soon? No hurry, in your own time, miss Smith-Rhodes. At some point in an otherwise unspecified future, but certainly sometime. Johanna had smiled at him and said she'd be happy to, Master. She had commissioned a black copy of her Howondalandian bush hat, just to show willing. But Howard Wolowitz' first impression of her had still been "Indiana Jones' cute little sister".

(10) Discworld zoology knew about the theory of evolution, but considered it lacked ambition on the part of non-simian species. An alternative theory was that while it was true the majority of human beings were descended from apes, this wasn't the entire story. You could look at some human beings and speculate other genetics were involved. Nobby Nobbs, for instance. Any suggestion of ape-descent there would make the entire simian genus shuffle away, very pointedly, further down that branch of the Tree, and often onto a different branch altogether. There were Furies; and Banshees were a humanoid bird of prey, suggesting the avian branch had been caught in the middle of evolving to something more human. Werewolves and vampires pointed to some interesting things lurking in the bat and canine branches. Johanna will soon see anecdotal proof that some people may be descended from small, frightened, deer.

(11) Really true. The South African sense of humour can sometimes be more subtle.

(12) HEX had chosen Ponder's cover identity with care. Rather than attribute him a past at Oxford, Cambridge, Brunel or any of the top British scientific universities, he had opted for one of the chasing pack in the next division down: a well regarded ambitious college which had just enough fame to be credible, just enough enrolled students for any one to be safely anonymous, and more importantly, a short history, with few of the obscure traditions that Ponder could have been called out on, were he to meet a real Oxbridge graduate. (13) Norwich was also a middling-sized British city with a mediaeval core, surrounded by rurality that largely grew potatoes and cabbages. Almost like Ankh-Morpork, in fact.

(13) UEA Norwich was founded in 1964. It does in fact have one or two little traditions, but these are easily remembered. The time a gerbil was elected Student Union president, for instance. Professor Malcolm Bradbury, who scored a full-time tenured salary for part-time wor (he got another full-time tenured salary in the USA when he wasn't in Norwich) (14) He was also notorious for sexually harrassing female Davis at Caltech would have loved him.

(14) Leading to the joke "Why is Malcolm Bradbury like God? Answer -" God is here but everywhere. Bradbury is everywhere but here. Both of them knocked up a young girl and still got worshipped fot it. Although God stopped at one." Reference Bengo Macaroni at UU.

We're getting nearer and nearer the moment where the BBT gang get to visit the Discworld, in small, well-managed, escorted parties... patience...

Chapter 8: The Gaia Hypothesis

The Gaia Hypothesis (Do not piss off the Earth Mother)

Back to California, where our heroes are having their horizons expanded. This got longer than I thought it would so I will split our heroes' Saturday afternoon excursion into two parts. It also took a lot of research and close scrutiny of Google Earth views of California to get the locations right...

There had been some debate about where to spend a Saturday afternoon upstate. Given that they needed a place that was fairly secluded and private, Howard had suggested somewhere like Lake Arrowhead or Running Springs, which was maybe fifty miles east of Pasadena. This was voted down. Apparently too much development had gone on there and with private houses all the way around the lake, it couldn't be called a wilderness any more. Raj had been all for giving Vasquez Rocks another chance, but Leonard had winced and the idea had been shouted down. Ponder Stibbons gleaned that the Caltech gang had been stranded there when their vehicle had been stolen, and this had led to a lot of physical discomfort and downright embarrassment, for reasons Leonard Hofstadter was reluctant to go into.

"If we are going into the wilderness," Johanna Smith-Rhodes said, practically, "then we need lots of supplies. We should stop end ensure there is a lot of water. It will be a hot day. We need much to drink. End you say those clever begs end boxes will keep the food cool end prevent it from spoiling? Gut. I know much ebout wilderness survivel. A bed stomech from spoilt food is not funny. It is something I teach my students et home."

"Cold beers…" Howard said, thoughtfully.

"No, Howard." Johanna said, patiently. She had not been long on Roundworld. But she already knew to take a deep breath and count to ten when dealing with Howard Wolowitz. "I em teaching you all basic weapon skills. Remember? These do not go well with strong drink. Perheps later, when we return."

"Very wise, hon." Penny said. "Howard, beer, and things with sharp edges. Don't go."

"While we decide." Johanna said, sensing the debate would last a while, "There are other things I require. There will be places to buy these items?"

She itemised a list of several seemingly unrelated things.

"Yeah. No problem." Penny said. Johanna liked working with her. Penny had a solid grasp of the practical issues of living in this California. She suspected Sheldon and the boys would find life a lot harder without her around to mother them. "Sporting goods store. There are a few out this way. Hardware store. Or a lumber yard. And a grocery mart. What are you planning to do with them?"

"You will see." Johanna said, mysteriously. "These things are stenderd when I teach weapon skills. End the lessons I teach are good ones!"

She brought out the magic plastic card HEX had obtained for her. It carried the mystical rune VISA, which HEX had assured her was a word of power on this planet. Tied into her name and the mantra "unlimited credit", it could potentially buy her anything. Johanna liked this sort of magic. It made things easier on a world that was otherwise strange and new to her.

"What about Deukmejian Wilderness Park?" Leonard asked. Just north of here. The roads aren't great, but it's a short drive."

"Too many people on a Saturday." Bernadette said. If they see us offloading an armory of weapons, people might get a bit edgy. And you could end up hitting someone, Howard!"

"Yeah. I've seen him throwing darts. And don't you think having a freakin' dartboard on the back of the apartment front door is a bit unsafe, guys?" Penny said, with feeling.

"We've decided." Sheldon Cooper declared. "The Sierra Madres. Out towards San Bernadino, along Highway 210. We can be there by one if we hurry!"

Leonard sighed. Sheldon often mistook his own desires for a group agreement. He subjected Sheldon's sudden whim to critical analysis. Most of the journey on good roads, fairly nearby, you could get far enough out into the country to be alone, two cars in good working order… well, one of them was Penny's…. a member of the party who taught survival in the wilderness and knew what she was doing. Lots of food, liquids and weapons; the heat of the day would have started to turn by the time they arrived, they'd be travelling in air-conditioned cars, and they were wearing normal clothes and not Trekkie cosplay rig. Yeah, go with Sheldon. Saves time.

"Sierra Madre it is. Let's go."

They made several stops on the way to tick off Johanna's shopping list. She also insisted both cars were fully loaded with gas, and asked intelligent questions about what else vehicles required to prevent against breaking down. This involved checking tyres, replacing Penny's long-lost spare wheel, and ensuring oil levels and radiators were topped up in both vehicles. Penny did not object. She wasn't paying for it, after all. And the basic toolkits Johanna insisted on for both cars would be useful, too.

"Preperation. Plenning. Enticipating possible hezards. Care of necessary equipment. Guarding egainst over-confidence." she said. Penny noticed she spat out "over-confidence" as if it was a curse.

"Hey, the "check engine" light's shut off." Amy Farrah-Fowler observed.

"Now there's an all-time first." Howard observed. He was squeezed into the back seat, riding the hump between Amy and Bernadette. Sheldon was riding up front with Penny, having called shotgun. Johanna grinned, and went to the other car, where she was riding with Ponder, Raj, Leonard and Lucy. Looking more like a startled deer than ever, Lucy was up front with Leonard whilst Johanna rode in back with the two guys.

And the Sierra Madre expedition began. The visitors from the Discworld settled down to enjoy the ride, as the Greater Los Angeles conurbation receded and the Californian landscape started to roll by.

"I em liking this country already." Johanna remarked. "I would like to spend a long time here."

"There are hiking trails and stuff." Leonard said. "Plenty of wildernesses. You wouldn't think this is the most populated state in the USA."

"Wild enimels?" Johanna asked, hopefully.

Leonard winced. He wasn't entirely at home outside cities.

"Yeah. Coyotes. Bobcats. Pumas. Sidewinders. Horned toads. Rattlesnakes. Maybe a mountain lion or two and black bears. Hope we don't see any!"

"Horned toads?"

"Kinda lizard. Spiky. Like a baby dinosaur or a dragon. Doesn't breathe fire, though."

"Tarantulas. Recluse spiders. Hobo spiders. Striped scorpions. Hairy scorpions." added Raj. "I come from India where there are things like cobras. So I should not be afraid. But these dudes worry me!"

Johanna smiled, contentedly. This was like going to heaven while still alive…

The landscape was climbing, on their left, into distant mountains. The urban sprawl appeared to go so far and then cease completely, as if meeting an invisible wall. After that the hills were brown and green, sometimes collapsing into cliffs and rubble fields.

"The mountains of the mother." Johanna remarked. "Who was the mother?"

"You speak Spanish?" Leonard asked. Visitors from another world who at the same time spoke good English and other Earth languages… he wondered how the Hell he could explain this, if ever. It would not be good for the career of an experimental physicist if it were to get out that he'd spent a weekend in the company of people who claimed to be from another planet. It wouldn't help that they actually were from another planet. He'd spoken to their supercomputer. He'd seen their time machine materialise. He'd seen convincing pictures of their world. And it was a flat Earth carried on the back of four elephants who in turn stood on the back of a… No, his career would be shot. He winced. Bernadette had suggested a pinky-swear between the six of them, never to tell the truth about this. Or all six scientific and academic careers would be so far down the debris basin they'd end up flushed into the Pacific.

On Monday, they would visit Caltech and perpetuate the agreed deception, that Doctor Smith-Rhodes and Professor Stibbons were visiting academics from overseas. Strictly speaking, that wasn't a lie. Even Sheldon Cooper had seen the essential need to disguise the uncomfortable reality - that even though their guests actually were visitors from another world, American academia was in all probability not yet ready or prepared for First Contact. Nobody would believe it, and the general consensus would be that four or five minds accepted as being brilliant, but flaky, had finally shattered into a collective nut-job delusion that was so freaky it was beyond any hope of professional redemption. And in Sheldon Cooper's case, the Caltech administration would seize on the God-given excuse to send him back to East Texas to teach high-school evolution to Creationists. Academia tended to cast out members who declared that they'd been abducted by aliens, probed, contacted, given revelations from beyond the stars, or who had suddenly declared that all the stuff about the Saucer People was true. Doors would close, tenure would disappear, unsecured and non-tenured contracts would dry up, and you'd end up in conference halls preaching to the left-shoulder people looking for validation of their own schizoid freakouts… And it would carry Bernadette and Amy with the four of them, as tainted associates to the delusion.

Leonard shuddered. It was all so unfair… even though this wasn't an abduction. Johanna had proposed an afternoon trip out to somewhere nice and secluded where she'd teach them something about the high-tech weapons her own civilization had developed. Like swords and crossbows….

"Spenish?" Johanna asked, politely.

++A Latin or Romance language, Doctor Smith-Rhodes ++ Parellel development on our Discworld saw the evolution of the Toledan language from its roots in old Latatian, which in its essentials is 90% identical++

And that was one of the clinchers. The third member of the visiting alien party was HEX, a sort of super-advanced machine intelligence vastly in advance of any computer devised on Earth. HEX was currently speaking from the car radio, which it - he - was using as a monitor and mouthpiece.

The coltish Lucy jumped. Leonard and Ponder realized she had till this moment been unaware of a few things. She turned, with startled eyes.

Johanna said, gently. "Lucy. You trust me, yesno? Or you would not have agreed to trevel with us. There are some things about myself and Ponder thet you should know…"

Meanwhile in the other car….

"Ventura Highway - in the su-un-shine! Where the days are longer, the nights grow stronger than mo-oo-nshine!"

Sheldon Cooper snorted dissent as Penny, Amy, Howard and Bernadette sang along with the radio.

"Really." he remarked. "May I draw your attention to the fact we are currently proceeding east along Highway 210? Ventura Highway runs west out of Los Angeles through Glendale, Woodland Hills, Thousand Oaks, and Oxnard into Ventura County, Ventura itself, and then on to Santa Barbara. It is in fact at least fifty miles away on the other side of the Greater Los Angeles Conurbation."

"Where's your sense of romance, sweetie?" Penny demanded. She sang "Alligator lizards in the air! In the air!" and added "This is a road trip!"

"'Sides, nobody's done a song about Highway 210 yet." Howard said. "Guess it's not so popular, huh?"

"That may not be entirely correct." Amy Farrah-Fowler said, after some reflection. "I believe the heavy rock band, the Blue Öyster Cult, may have referenced Highway 210 by default in their ballad Shadow of California. Although the highway in question is not identified by number, the lines concerning a chapter of Hell's Angels proceeding out of San Bernadino towards Los Angeles on a mission to raise motorcycle mayhem imply that by a process of logical inference, they could only be burnin' rubber on two-ten, as that is the principal route between the two cities."

There was a silence while everyone digested this.

"Popular song, huh?" Howard said.

"Where did you learn that, hon?" Penny asked.

"I tried to learn it for the concert harp." Amy said, shrugging. "It didn't work out. Nor did Transmaniacon MC. I did, however, have a little success in scoring Golden Age of Leather for concert harp"(1)

There was another silence.

""Don't Fear The Reaper" works well on harp." Amy added, thoughtfully.

++I can play any of those songs for you++ HEX said, breaking into the radio. Everyone jumped. As Penny was driving, the car lurched across the road. Fortunately no other traffic was near.

"Hi, HEX!" Howard said. He liked the idea of a near-omniscient supercomputer. One that had a quirk for heavy rock, admittedly. But then computers, computer engineers, programmers and hard rock all went together, somehow.

"Anything in the air.,HEX?" Howard asked. There was usually, he had discovered, a good reason for the otherworld supercomputer to make a contribution.

++I am monitoring events in the other car++ HEX said. ++You need to be aware of a little complication.++ The new member of our party, Lucy, has just discovered she is riding with two aliens from another planet++At present she is being calm about this as she trusts Johanna and does not find Professor Stibbons to be threatening++You may wish to ask her if she will keep the secret along with the rest of you++

"Thanks, HEX." Bernadette said. "I'll talk to her."

++It would be advisable++ Searching radio station play lists and computerised memory banks++

There was a sudden explosion of drums and guitars. Sheldon grimaced.

Beneath the freeway at the cloverleaf junction

A symbol of good luck emanates darkness!

The shadow will grow, to cover California,

Somewhere on the road from San Bernadino…
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucy took a deep breath and blinked. It took a while before she spoke. Eventually she said

"Well, I did say I wanted to get out of my comfort zone…" and she smiled, uncertainly.

"Hold that thought." Ponder Stibbons said. Lucy found herself liking and trusting him. He seemed unthreatening, gentle, intelligent. If she was going to be abducted by aliens, then one who somehow made her think of Harry Potter crossed with Woody Allen and Leonard Hofstadter, one who spoke in an unthreatening and easy-on-the-ear British accent, wasn't a bad alien to be abducted by. For one thing, he wouldn't even abduct her, he'd ask politely if she wanted to tag along for the ride…

"You know, the final proof of our being from another planet is to actually take you there for a visit." Ponder said. "Oh, we'll bring you back again afterwards, and I promise we won't do things that you don't want to do. Now you know the secret, Lucy, would you like to?"

Fear, panic, and discomfort rose in her. But curiosity was in there too. This really was stretching her comfort zone…

"Oh, you bet!" she found herself saying. And she trusted the strong red-haired girl too…. This, she wondered, might make a science-fiction story, or even a storyboard for a graphic novel…

""We could turn off the main highway in the next ten or fifteen minutes, Johanna". Leonard said.

"Where do you recommend? I em heppy to go with your local knowledge." Johanna replied.

"If we turn left off two-ten at Foothill Freeway, we can drive up through Sierra Madre town. We go up North Baldwin, and come out on the other side of town at Crater Debris Basin. Maybe drive out to Auburn Debris Basin and park up there. Then after that it's wilderness." Leonard explained. "Empty country past the city limits. Nobody can build there. It's illegal."

"Debris basins?" Ponder asked.

"They're the reasons why nobody can build out past the city limits. Well, a symptom, anyway."

Johanna listened with interest as Leonard explained about California, about when it rains up in the mountains you can get torrential floods coming down, turning to mudslides and collapsing hills, and how intensive urban development pushing right up to the edges of the mountains could make life difficult, in terms of houses, roads and infrastructure being swept away in a sea of mud and rubble.

"So the Crater Basins are a way of managing this." Ponder Stibbons said. "You are remodelling the landscape to send any mudslides or avalanches down predictable and manageable paths to minimise damage. The water coming down from the hills is drained off and sent safely to the sea along gulleys and flood-canals. The crater debris fields are designed to contain more solid material to divert it from destroying a city. On top of that there are dangerous wildfires in summer. And people still choose to live here?"

"California's a very popular state. People really want to live here. They put up with a lot. Leonard admitted. "We're not in flood season right now, so there's little danger. The advantage to parking up at the basin is that technically they're not public access. The Military Engineering Corps runs and operates the system, but Caltech has an interest too. Our ecology and geology people have outstations here for research. We can park on their land and put our Caltech parking permits in the windscreen. Then we get to go places that are normally closed to the public. No hassle."

Raj laughed.

"Sheldon is going to be really pissed when he discovers we're here as guests of the rock-bangers and the mud people!" he said, gleefully. "Man, he does not like those dudes in Geology. He doesn't care for ecologists either!"

"Not that it ever crossed my mind…" Leonard agreed.

They turned off the wide highway, Penny's car following. To Ponder and Johanna, it was like a vastly expanded Ankh, with large houses in spacious gardens. The general standard of living appeared to vastly in excess of Ankh-Morpork, the towns larger, the roads far wider, only a handful of people in poverty or obvious distress (he noticed a couple of obvious Beggars in what felt like the commercial centre, but they were conspicuous more by the fact there were so few of them). And the people, such as were out: well fed, some to the point of being distinctly over-fed; well clothed, well turned out, the women wearing clothing that Ankh-Morpork would have considered indecent… he gulped as he observed a pair of teenage girls in skimpy shorts and tops, speeding down a sidewalk in a fast floating way…

"Leonard. They've got wheels on their feet?"

"Ah-huh. Rollerblades. Your world doesn't have them?"

And he saw skateboards. And bicycles. Ponder's mind was engaged.

And all the time the green hills got nearer and the roads started sloping upwards. There was no obvious fading-out of the building, no gaps, no sparse development, no unbuilt plots. And thern they were on what the white-over-green street sign announced to be North Auburn Avenue, and everything suddenly…ended. Green spaces opened around them as the car slowed on its uphill journey. Even the metalled road ended and Leonard slowed to not much over a walking pace.

"Dirt track now, guys. Could get rough."

Johanna looked out with interest on what looked like a brown barren landscape, packed dirt punctuated with larger boulders.

"Auburn Debris Crater". said Leonard. "Caltech has a research station here, we can park up…"

A large modern building loomed up on the right. It was on significantly higher ground.

"And we're here." he announced. The second car parked up behind them. Everyone got out.

Johanna took stock. Over to the left, two immense cylindrical structures, anything up to half a mile away.

"Water collection tanks." Howard said. "Not everything gets flushed. A lot of people live here and they all need to drink. Wash their cars. Water the lawn."

"And shower." Bernadette reminded him.

"Something prodded at Johanna. She wasn't sure how up to speed most of these people would be in the basics of wilderness exploration, even if she intended to take them no further than a mile out into the country. And there was something very basic…

"Howard, if this is a place where you heve a right to go es an employee, there must be privvies here? Toilets?"

She remembered the Californian word.

"Bethrooms. This could be everybody's lest chence for a… bethroom break… before we go into the hills? Then, it gets a little more basic."

"She's right." said Penny. "How do you get in, guys?"

"There should be a rock-smasher or two on the premises." Sheldon Cooper said. He seemed to be balancing physical needs against being beholden to the Geology Department. After a moment's inner struggle, his basic fastidiousness won. He led the charge to the bathroom.

Johanna and Raj stayed with the cars, unpacking the equipment and necessary items. Johanna was assessing who would carry what, and how much each person could reasonably take. And there was a lot of weight and bulk here, even for ten people…

Then she realised somebody else was close, and turned to face them. He was male, middle-aged, balding, bearded and not favoured with good looks. She classed him as "potentially dangerous if angry" and sensed a lifetime of frustration and social awkwardness. He also had an air of bachelor academic about him.

"Oh, hi, Burt!" Raj said. "How's it going, dude?"

Johanna tried not to fixate on his nose. The combination of glasses, big bulbous nose, and facial hair made her think of Mr Potato Head, or of Captain Carrot going inadvisably undercover in accessories bought from Boffo's. But this was where any semblence to Carrot ended.

"Dr Koophrathali. Who's your friend?"

"Ah. May I introduce Doctor Johanna Smith-Rhodes, who is visiting us from the Witwatersrand University of South Africa?"

Academic introductions were made. The huge lumbering Burt seemed quite pleased to have made a new friend.

"Our Zoology and Natural History Departments sometimes operate from here, for field trips and sample collection sessions. It's a shame nobody seems to be in today, or I'd introduce you. Doctor Koophrathali, did I see Doctor Farrah-Fowler with your party? I've got some interesting new stones for her…"

Johanna caught the unspoken yearning and suppressed a grin. Of all the people here to have a secret admirer….

"She's here, Burt. And so is her boyfriend. The one you suspect she made up to put you off?" Raj said, pointedly. "Although nobody could make up a character like Sheldon Cooper. Not even in the wildest fantasy."

"I'm sold." Burt said, resignedly. Sheldon Cooper's reputation was known all over Caltech, and had even got as far as the Inhumanities. Although, Raj, reflected, all the other departments could put up stiff competition in terms of The World's Most Eccentric Academic. Ponder Stibbons would reflect on meeting Burt that if you put a pointy hat on him, he'd be completely at home in Unseen University, which had its own Geology and Earth Magic department. (2 )

The others filtered back in ones and twos. Amy did not look too overjoyed to see Burt again, but thanked him profusely for the gift of some really pretty tumbled garnets. He looked like a great big puppy that had just been patted on the head. Sheldon glared at him as if Burt embodied all his worse prejudices against geologists.

"I can't help noticing all those crossbows." Burt said. "And… is that a longbow?"

The magic mantra "Charge it all to Visa" had obtained a lot of extra weapons at a sporting goods store. Johanna had cheerfully spent several thousand dollars on the best Roundworld had to offer by way of archery technology. It would be worth it if she got some of this home with her and could write a report for the Guild on Roundworld's projectile weaponry. The permitted sort, anyway. She had assured the store owner that while gonnes had an intrinsic interest, it would not be worth her while to wait the mandatory period of days while such checks as the State of California made on prospective owners were completed. She was, however, proficient in crossbows and bows and held teaching certification. The store owner had not stopped to ask which institution had certified her to teach use of projectile weapons. As a professional who could assess on sight a customer's level of proficiency, he had recognised expert the moment she lifted one to her shoulder and sighted. The fact Penny had accompanied her and also demonstrated familiarity with weapons had helped. Men tended to be helpful and accommodating to women who looked like Penny. They had left the store with a lot of weapons and equipment.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes. You do know we're not in the hunting season right now? For many animals?" Burt said, doubtfully.

"Ja. The man in the sporting goods store edvised me of this. I elso know if I em to work et Celtech, the Netural History Department would not like it if I were to go out end kill the wildlife. But there is no problem. I em here only to find a secluded place to teach others to hendle the weapons. Do you know of a nearby place where we cen be isolated, end there is little risk of a stray errow or crossbow bolt hitting an innocent bystender?"

She added a smile. It worked. Burt looked shyly across at Amy, who smiled back.

"I go into these hills a lot as a professional geologist." he said. Sheldon Cooper snorted in a derisory way.

For goodness sake, Sheldon! Don't annoy him! somebody hissed. Burt ignored this.

"Doctor Farrah-Fowler, Doctor Smith-Rhodes. Caltech has several jeeps and SUV's at its disposal here to take scientific parties out into the hills. It spares us a lot of hiking. As it happens I am planning to go out on a survey myself. I can perhaps guide you there and drop you off at a good location? One of you could drive the second jeep?"

"Ja. I would eppreciate thet. Kiff!" she said.

"Burt, thank you for your kindness." Amy said, getting the point. She smiled at him. Leonard goggled. Seeing Penny flaunt her femininity for favors was nothing new and he appreciated it got him some cool stuff by default. He also appreciated that Johanna Smith-Rhodes wasn't above using similar techniques. But seeing Amy do it… he busied himself in helping transfer kit from the cars to a couple of jeeps Burt and Howard brought round. Everybody piled aboard and they were off, bumping along a dirt-track and then onto rough ground where there wasn't even a track. Amy and Sheldon had been separated; she was riding up front next to the lumbering Burt. Sheldon was in the following vehicle.

Johanna reflected that this was so much like the veldt-country at home. Her experienced eye picked up a fleeting impression of a couple of animals that reminded her of jerboas, startled and leaping for cover. And then they were stopping at a canyon, a gully between two hills, typical grasskops.

Doctor Burt slowed and stopped. Howard pulled his jeep in behind.

"This should be ideal for you." Burt said, ponderously. "We are not currently in the rainy season. The last time this bluff saw a dangerous flow of mud and water is over three years ago. It has had time to settle down and new growth has stabilized the earth, so there is little chance of a landslide."

"And you're sure there's no danger of a flash flood?" Bernadette asked. Burt smiled slightly.

"We in the Geology and Earth Sciences Department monitor continually for events in the higher Sierra Madres." he reassured her. "We use satellite monitoring as well as regular patrol reports to warn us in good time of events building up to floods and mudslides. There's no danger of anyone getting killed here today!"

He exchanged a long cold glare with Sheldon Cooper, as if regretting the fact Sheldon was in no danger of imminent death.

"I guess that's why they're called Mothers, huh?" Howard Wolowitz said, to lighten the moment.

Doctor Burt said he was going to take one of the jeeps on so as to make his geological survey. Sheldon snorted again in derision of the idea geology could be called scientific.

"Don't offend him!" somebody hissed.

"I'll leave the other jeep with you in case you require emergency transport. Doctor Smith-Rhodes, I see you've brought a lot of drinks with you. May I prevail?"

"Help yourself." Johanna said, gesturing towards the cases of bottled water. Burt pulled one open with his bare hands, and took several bottles. She noted his raw physical strength and understood why Leonard had been hissing "Don't offend him!" at Sheldon.

And then he set off, but not without first asking if Amy might like to accompany him to see geology in the field and to discover how exciting it could be. She turned him down, politely.

And then Johanna was supervising everyone in manually transporting their equipment down the gully. It took a little time; she observed that the boys were generally not in the best of physical condition and were breathing heavily after even a short uphill walk with a load. She, Penny, Bernadette, Amy and Lucy ended up doing most of the work. Ponder was in the best physical shape of the men, but then, she'd been working on him.

"You just do not offend him, Sheldon!" Howard was saying, insistently. "Else he'll start making purposeful grimaces and start tearing spitting high tension wires down. you know?"

"With or without a terrible sound?" Raj added.

Ponder wondered what they were referencing, but he got the idea: Doctor Burt was a man you sought to keep happy. He was built like a human troll and had strength to match, judging by the way he'd ripped the sturdy case of drinks open with his bare hands. Even jJhanna had cut one open with a knife as the easiest route in. But what on Disc - Earth - is a "Godzilla"? (3)

They had brought a battery-powered laptop with them, so that HEX could communicate if he felt a need. At the moment HEX was playing the Roundworld Music With Rocks In that he liked, pulling it from Spotify and other music archives. To the Discworlders, it didn't sound so bad.

Got on board a westbound seven-forty seven;

Didn't think before I decided what to do….

"We will erect the targets just here, I think." Johanna said, surveying the ground. "There is a bare hillside behind them where our expended errows end bolts will harmlessly come to earth."

All this talk of opportunity, TV breaks and movies…

"Yeah, right." Penny muttered, moving a few bags over into the shade where the food and drink would stay cool. "Tell me about it."

Rang true; it sure rang true!

"Could we have a different song on?" Penny asked. Raj snickered. She glared at him.

Seems it never rains in southern California;

Seems I've often heard that kinda talk before!

It never rains in California -

But girl, don't they warn ya,

It pours - man, it pours!

Everyone anxiously looked at the sky. It was still blue and cloudless. But you never knew.

"HEX?" Ponder asked. "A different song, please?"

++Just searching for locally themed songs, so as to enhance the atmosphere++ HEX said. ++Searching.++

And as the Doors performed "L.A. Woman", Johanna started her teaching class, having decided to go easy on these people. It wasn't as if any of them were potential Assassins' School students, although she considered Amy Farrah-Fowler might have some potential in her own specialised way, and Penny showed promise with regard to physical fitness, aggressive ability in a fight, and general personality. So she'd confine it to the basics, as if they were first year students.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1) Amy is referencing three songs by the Blue Öyster Cult about the Hell's Angels, who in the early days formed a good part of the band's fandom. "Transmaniacon MC" tells the story of the notorious Altamont concert - from the point of view of the Hell's Angels otherwise seen as the villains of the piece. "Golden Age of Leather" is about old Angels deciding to go out in one last meth-filled orgy of rape and violence . "Revolution By Night" is about the San Bernadino chapter setting out for Los Angeles with the intent of beating up well-heeled affluent suburbia on the way. The road from S.B. to LA passes through Pasadena… and is indeed Highway 210.

2) The School of Geology, Geodesia, and Earth Magic. Lesson One: How to Tell The Difference Between An Interesting Pile of Rocks and a Sleeping Troll. Lesson Two: Conduct And Etiquette At Funerals (for those who did not pass Lesson One).

3) A "kajiru", apparently, or else a huge lumbering unlovely lizard that has a downer on Tokyo. Or a Blue Öyster Cult song about the eponymous mega-lizard. Or perhaps Burt the geologist in a bad mood.

Chapter 9: The Black Blade Analogy

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter nine© Chuck Lorré Productions/ the Discworld

The Statistically Favoured Female in the Amply Illuminated Urban Conurbation Postulate

Ye gods... this show gets under your skin. Last night I dreamt I was dating Amy Farrah-Fowler and I was worried about not being able to keep up with her intellectually. Then she got some wasting disease derived from lab animals loaned to Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz for "research purposes" and developed an angry red rash on her fingers. Bernadette quite distinctly said "Oopsies...", and stood back as Amy dissolved from the fingers inwards, screaming for help. I swear to any god I have nothing against the character and I think her real-life alter-ego Mayim Bialek scrubs up quite nicely. But I'm worried about my dreams...

Johanna paused in setting up her teaching aids. Penny was helping her.

"Now I think I see what you want these for, sweetie..." she began. Then there was a high-pitched whimpering scream of terror. Penny grimaced.

"For God's sake, Sheldon, it's only a bird..." Leonard said. HEX was still playing the Doors' L.A. Woman.

"But you know my feelings about birds, Leonard!"

Johanna shook her head and walked over to him. Penny set down her machete and followed.

Sheldon Cooper was standing almost at the edge of the gully, petrified and looking fixedly up the scrubby, stony, slope. A bird was perched on a shrub some forty feet away, seemingly watching him with beady little eyes. Jim Morrison's drink-and-drugs ravaged voice rasped out

Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light?

Or just another lost angel... City of Night... City of Light...

"Sheldon has a phobia about birds..." Penny whispered.

"So I perceive." Johanna replied. She looked up at the bird, a fussy but unthreatening little thing with iridescent blue plumage above and white below. Two tufts of feathers stood out behind its head, giving it an absurdly fussy look.

"Cyanocitta cristata." she said, almost to herself. "A pesserine bird. Interesting to see one here, es by preference they are a forest dweller. But they ere intelligent end edepteble little creatures."

"It's just a bluejay, Moonpie." Penny said, with forced reassurance. Remember that one that got into the apartment?"

Sheldon trembled. "Isn't it enough that I have eidetic memory?" he asked, feelingly. "Of course I remember, and thank you for reminding me!"

Johanna smiled and patted his arm reassuringly. She thought a variant of the strategy that had worked with Lucy was called for here: gentle sympathy and persuasion. She looked to her left slightly, saw another thing, and filed it as unthreatening, for now.

"Doctor Cooper, your intellectual speciality is physics." she said. "I em certain you could celculate, in en instent, the parabolic course thet bird will take to cover the shortest distence between where it is now, end the crumbs Howard is scettering from the potato chips he is consuming."

Sheldon winced.

"And it's going to fly..." he paused for an instant, "within ten feet of my head!"

"Quite so, Doctor Cooper. But ellow me the courtesy of recognising my field of scientific expertise. Just for a moment. Thet bird is not interested in you. It hes recognised humans. A group of humans. A bird hes to consume et least its own body weight of food in a day so es to live. It will take every opportunity to feed end the least energy expended in eating, the better. Bird species in urban areas are symbiotic to people, to a degree. They know people are sloppy feeders end leave much waste. Peleteble food screps to scevenge for little effort. In ell probability, Sheldon, it is essessing how quickly Howard will move away from the scraps he is scettering, so thet it is safe to fly down end feed. Trust me on this."

She smiled. Penny had also noted the other thing.

"Besides..."

"Ooh, let me, sweetie!" Penny said. "I want to tell him!"

"Tell me what?" Sheldon asked, suspiciously.

"Sheldon, moonpie, why are you worried about a harmless bird fifty feet away, when over there, see that flat rock twenty feet on your right? There's a rattlesnake on it basking in the sun, see it?"

Sheldon tore his gaze away from the bird and looked to his right. Then he yelped, and fled back to the rest of the group.

"Wicked!" said Johanna, who would have done exactly the same. Penny grinned.

"Well, it got him moving."

I see your Hell is burning...

Streets are filled with fire...

Johanna was now wearing her Assassin's belt and Sam Browne. Looking at it, Penny recognized the machete, a couple of daggers, and the coiled whip on the other side. Other things hung there, that she assumed were weapons of some sort.

("It is good to be dressed properly again." Johanna had remarked, retrieving her equipment from the trunk of Penny's car.)

Now, she unhitched something that looked like a long slim cylinder of some sort, maybe eight inches long. The purpose wasn't apparent, even when Johanna thumbed a lever and a far longer rod telescoped out. Another press with her thumb, and a lasso-like noose dropped out of the far end.

"You hev no phobia ebout snakes?" Johanna asked. "I wish to investigate this one, end I need an essistent."

"Hell, no!" Penny said. "It's not as if it's hiding at ground level in a cornfield where I can't see it. It's in plain view there, I can see it, it can see me, and I'm not in its danger zone. Nothing to get scared of!" She grinned down at four worried looking guys who were huddled together in apprehension. Amy and Lucy were walking up the slope to join them.

"Guess they're city boys, huh?" she added.

Unheeded, the bluejay flew down to feast on discarded potato chips.

"Is this safe?" Lucy asked. Johanna reassured her.

"I hev done this a thousand times. I hev experience in hendling snakes. Thet is not to say the procedure is without risk, end I cen be over-confident on the one thousand end first time."

The basking and sleepy rattler did not react until Johanna was about six feet away. As it uncoiled and raised both head and tail, everybody heard the rattle...

And then Johanna had caught it in the noose, just behind the head, and was both pulling it up so it had no purchase on the rock, and was reaching down, without apparent fear, to take its neck in her free hand. Its body threshed and she said "Now I will need assistance."

To her surprise, Amy Farrah-Fowler stepped forward and was first to restrain the threshing body and tail.

"Excellent technique, Doctor Smith-Rhodes." she said, as Penny steeled herself to add her support. The snake was nearer to three feet than four, but soon quieted down as it realised it was caught.

"Thenk you. You hev worked with snakes before?"

"There is a herpetology department at Caltech. I sometimes work with snakes and lizards and other reptiles. Study of the reptilian brain is one of the indicatory proofs that the evolutionary hypothesis is correct."

She paused, and added

"Although I have never been this close to a rattlesnake before. Fascinating!"

"I've had to kill a couple." Penny said, controlling her distaste. "Get them on the farm, hon, they're trouble. A bite from one of these guys can bring down a two-ton steer!"

Howard and Ponder had walked up to join them. Raj and Sheldon looked panicked; Leonard just seemed resigned to the fact the women he knew best were capable of doing hair-raisingly dangerous things, just for the hell of it.

"Wowee!" Howard said, appreciatively, but keeping a safe distance. "Johanna, you don't belong to any sinister snake-worshiping cult, do you? Out in Tennessee, we got a religion that dances with rattlers in church on a Sunday."

Although Howard's voice, she suspected, carried overtones of exotic semi-naked gals dancing in a wild abandoned wanton way in the temple of the serpent-God Abraxas.

"Belong to a strange snake-worshipping cult thet performs strange rituals in dark secret places?" Johanna repeated, amusedly. "Ja, I do. We are called zoologists."

She added. "Ponder? I hev my hends full right now. If you stend behind me end reach around my waist, the second pouch from my belt buckle contains a semple jar. Cen you get it for me? End if you hev a Sonky on you. You know what to do. We hev done this before."

Ponder gulped. He got the sample jar out, a simple screw-topped affair. Then he had to ask Howard. There was a moment of misinterpretation between them.

"What, now?" Howard asked. "She doesn't, you know, get turned on  by danger? I understand, Ponder, some gals do. Although this is a hellova time. We could all turn our backs, or something!"

"No, nothing like that..." Ponder thanked Howard, after a rummage in his wallet turned up a foil-wrapped something.

"According to Bernadette he's been carrying that in his wallet for years." Amy observed. "About time he used it for something."

Ponder swiftly slipped the contraceptive over the sample jar, pulling it taut over the mouth. He was red with embarrassment. Even though Amy seemed to know exactly what it was for, and Penny suddenly made a sigh of relief as she realised.

Johanna guided the snake's head to the latex covering the jar. It instinctively struck and bit through it. Venom jetted into the jar. She triggered the bite reflex several more times until there was nothing more to be collected.

"That is a most effective expedient." Amy observed, as Ponder was tasked with disposing of the latex and sealing the jar. He peeled it off, very, very, carefully. "Howard, do not even think of asking for it back to use for its accepted purpose. It would not be advisible. Necrosis of the penile head, very painful localised gangrene..."

"'Sides, there are great big holes in it." Howard said, hurriedly cutting off what promised to be a detailed clinical exposition.

The quiet and painfully shy Lucy was thoughtfully stroking the snake's body.

"It's so warm." she observed. "And smooth. I kinda thought they'd be scaly and slimy and cold."

"Thet is a common misperception." Johanna said, self-censoring a recommendation for her to try something similar with Raj one day. "The creature hes recently eaten. From the bulge high in the body, I suspect a ret or a small memmel. It has been besking, sleeping off its feed. It is docile end sluggish. Thet meant I could proceed, but with caution. "Cold-blooded" does not mean it is cold ell the time. Now if everyone stends beck, I cen release it."

"Will it be vulnerable itself with no more venom left?" Lucy asked.

Johanna shook her head.

"It will seek a place of safety. Its body will swiftly replenish the venom I hev taken from it. By the time it needs to feed egain, it will have refilled its venom secs. This petterning is distinctive end ettrective, by the wey."

"Diamondback. The skin makes for good leather. Too expensive for me, though!" Penny said. "Do you have them on your world?"

"I hev never seen one like this." she replied. "Elthough we hev desert end semi-deserts thet hev not been properly explored yet. Now if everyone stends beck?"

Johanna counted to ten, then rested the snake on the ground and triggered the noose to slacken. The rattlesnake took a few seconds to realise it was free. Then it slithered through the noose and gratefully shot off to safety. Johanna turned, satisfied it was not in a fighting mood. Which only left flight as an option for it. As it disappeared among the rocks, she rejoined the group.

"Were you frightened there?" she asked Lucy, softly, as she snapped the noose and pole closed.

"Yes. I was. But I thought – well, you know what you're doing. You were in control. So I made myself step forward to touch it. It was kinda scary. But another comfort zone to step out of."

Johanna hugged Lucy around the shoulders.

"Gut! You faced a fear. You defeated it. That is bravery. I commend thet in my students et home. I am pleased thet here, you are my student end you learn well! Now, let us train."

HEX was playing a new local song. Johanna sighed, sensing a certain mordant comment on her recent activity.

On her way to work one morning

Down the path 'long side the lake,

A tender hearted woman

Saw a poor half frozen snake.

His pretty colored skin had been all frosted with the dew,

"Poor thing!", she cried, "I'll take you in,

And I'll take care of you!".

"Hex has got a sense of humor." Howard observed, slyly. "That'd get him through the Turing Test any time."

She clutched him to her bosom,

"You're so beautiful!", she cried.

"But if I hadn't brought you in, by now you might have died!"

She stroked his pretty skin again, and kissed and held him tight,

Instead of saying thanks, that snake gave her a vicious bite!

" A lesson for us all." Sheldon Cooper said, tartly. Johanna held her peace, but wondered if she ought to describe a Shadowing Lemma (1)  to Sheldon.

"It's my profession, Sheldon." she said, mildly. "I em trained for it. HEX, please change the music. Thenk you."

Hex smoothly changed to a ballad called When You're in Love With a Beautiful Woman, about the agonising insecurities of an average guy who knows exactly how much attention his girlfriend gets from other guys. It was now Leonard's turn to wince and squirm. Raj wondered if a pattern was emerging and tried to predict how HEX would sum him up in music. Well, if it's in Hindi, only I can understand the words, he thought.

"What are you going to do with that venom, Johanna?" Bernadette asked, curiously.

"I em not sure." she said, honestly. She had wanted to find room for it in one of the cold bags with their food, but Sheldon had heatedly objected to the idea. She recalled that he habitually labelled food in his refrigerator with biohazard stickers. Things might get confusing. And fatal, if anyone mistook it for salad dressing. But it would only spoil and degrade in this heat. "There is a... researcher... on my world who would take very great interest in venom from a species of snake he hes not encountered before, and for which there is no known entidote."

++I can return it to the HEM Building, with a letter of recommendation that it is taken by express courier to Filigree Street, for the attention of Mr Mericet and Lady T'Malia++ HEX offered. ++I am also there, and I can co-ordinate these things++

"Can you see no curious wizard touches it, HEX?" Ponder asked, hurriedly. He knew his fellow wizards. Send them a bottle of something marked "Lethal!" and they'd duly open it to see what it did. Maybe dip a finger in and taste it to the tongue. He shuddered.

++I will mark it as property of the Guild of Assassins, Professor Stibbons++ If Doctor Smith-Rhodes writes a brief note, no wizard will dare to touch it++

"Thet is ecceptible." Johanna said. She reached for pen and paper.

Howard nudged Ponder.

"Did HEX just say Assassins?" he asked. "As in Assassin's Creed?"

Ponder sighed. "You heard him right, Howard. And they call it the Concordat."

"It is a honoured profession." Johanna said, shrugging. Ah well, the werewolf is in the moonlight now. (2) "End I propose to reveal to you some of the skills the Guild teaches. Which I teach."

She laid the note next to the venom bottle. Everyone gasped as they shimmered and disappeared. To Lucy's eyes, this was proof that the two strangers were not putting it on and really were from a different planet. It diverted attention away from the word "Assassin", for one thing.

Johanna indicated the line of stakes, cut to various heights, They were wooden poles bought from a hardware store. She and Penny had also bought several more machetes there, lightweight but sturdy tools designed and used here for heavy gardening, agriculture, and clearing stubborn undergrowth. (3)

"Whet you see here. It looks ebsurd, I know. These are common drumhead cebbeges stuck onto poles in the ground. But they ere ell at the sort of height where you would expect a human head to be. This is not eccidental."

She had also bought a crate of cabbages at a grocery store. Their purpose was now explained.

"One of the herdest things to teach my students in fighting disciplines. The very herdest. I end my colleague, who teaches swords technique, know thet there is a world of difference between teaching the skills end the techniques in the erena, end using them for real. You cen teach ell the techniques end disciplines end fighting styles you like. You cen turn out people who ere excellent sword-fighters in the training ring. Meny of our students will go on to fence end spar with swords for sport end recreation. But this is ell for nothing if it is useless in a real fight."

She paused and wondered how well they were understanding her words. Time to shock them slightly.

"In the training ring, you are not aiming to deliver killing blows to your opponents, who in eny case are protected with mesks end pedding. The first time you aim a deliberate killing blow to enother human being, there is a shock end en impect thet could wrench the blade from your hend if you ere not prepared for it. People ere difficult to kill. Muscle end bone ere surprisingly solid."

Johanna indicated one of the cabbages-on-a-pole.

"Efter experimentation, we discovered the dense, thick, tightly pecked, layers of vegetable matter in a drumhead cebbege offer a very good simulation of the density end solidity of a human head."

She decided not to mention the pig carcasses her colleague Madame Deux-Epées used when delivering advanced training in how to stab. The shock of getting your knife irretrievably stuck in muscle and bone for the first time was a useful corrective to her more over-confident students. (4) Besides, in this semi-desert heat in the afternoon, any sort of unprotected meat would stink, and attract the wrong sort of wildlife.

"Howard, you wished to hendle my blade? Come forward."

Howard Wolowitz shuffled forward, looking apprehensive. Johanna nodded encouragingly. She had taken into account the heights of her students when mounting the cabbages; none were more than five foot six off the ground and others even lower.

She grinned.

"Take the heriditery mechete of the Heiress to Piemburg." she invited him, parodying the verbal style of The Lord of the Rings. Howard tried to imagine LOTR with South African settings and accents. It would have been a totally different movie. Irrelevantly, he remembered the siege of Helm's Deep had deliberately been done as visual homage to Zulu. And hadn't this woman fought Zulus for real, or at least their local analog, on her homeworld? He gulped. She held out her weapon, handle first. He took it. Man, it was heavy.

"Take a little time. Try some prectice swings. Get used to the feel of the weapon."

He gulped again. Johanna moved closely into his body from behind, getting him to mirror her stance, adjusting his grip and poise. In other circumstances he would have really enjoyed this. But even Howard Wolowitz was wary of taking liberties with a professional killer...

I have a feeling – that my luck is none too good!

This sword here by my side don't act the way it should -

It keeps callin' me its master, but I feel just like its slave -

Haulin me, faster and faster, to an earlier, earlier grave!

And it howls! It howls like hell!

"HEX? Please suspend the music, for the moment." Johanna called. "Pley it quietly to yourself, perheps?"

Howard noted the blade had been enamelled into an unreflective matt black – but the cutting edge was honed polished metal. He remembered the back-story to the song HEX had started to play. Michael Moorcock's fantasy saga about the enchanted warrior Elric and the sentient soul-killing black hell-blade Stormbringer. It was not a comforting thought.

"Kiff." she said, eventually. "Now imegine thet cebbege is your deadliest enemy, who will kill you if you do not strike first. Deliver a killing blow, Mr Wolowitz. Go!"

Howard stepped forward, aimed and swung.

A few moments later, he was struggling to pull the weapon out of a cabbage. It had sliced a chasteningly shallow gash in the cabbage and had stuck fast. And the shock of impact had still jarred all the way up to his shoulder. Johanna pulled it free with no apparent effort and returned it to him.

"Not es easy as it looks, yesno?" she said, without criticism. "Let us try again, end this time, brace your arm es you strike."

A student Assassin who had made such a poor attempt might have received a more critical comment. Johanna, knowing this world had largely ceased to be a sword culture and its people were not as physically honed as hers, was calmly understanding. Two or three more embarrassing attempts later, she patted him on the shoulder.

"Somebody else's turn now, I think." she said. "You did commendebly well for a very first ettempt, Howard. Thenk you!"

Johanna then demonstrated how it should be done, whirling and striking. Two halves of a split cabbage flew in opposite directions.

"Of course, there is a lifetime of training end prectice behind thet." she said. "I do not expect eny of you to be thet proficient on a first ettempt. Doctor Cooper, would you care to try?"

Sheldon had been fidgeting and was sat in a huddled bundle, anxiously scanning his immediate area for any dangerous or inconvenient wildlife. Raj had not helped; he had been gleefully discussing the lifestyle of the scorpion and its habits. Johanna wanted to take his mind off things.

"Es before, Sheldon, please visualise this cebbege es your worst enemy..."

She was unable to continue.

"BARRY KRIPKE!" Sheldon shrieked. "You complete and utter RECTUM! Die!"

Bits of cabbage flew in all directions.

Johanna mouthed "Who is Barry Kripke?" at Leonard.

"Will Wheaton! WHEATON! The tenure committee at Caltech! Take THAT for not making me a professor! Bill Nye, the science guy! Creationists from Texas! AAARGH!"

"Johanna, this could take some time." Leonard advised her. "He's working down his hit-list. And you've given him a weapon, and things to swing it at."

Sheldon eventually lowered the machete and stood there panting slightly. Johanna very carefully took it from him.

"Fortunately, we hev more cebbeges." she said.

"Thank you, Doctor Smith-Rhodes." Sheldon said, eventually. "That was most splendidly cathartic. I must do this again sometime." He returned the machete to her.

Johanna was soon wondering what she'd unleashed. Penny hacked a cabbage to bits, identifying it as that goddam freaking bitch who stole the TV role from her. It was a prolonged hack. Leonard started uncertainly, but soon proved that he had issues with his mother. Johanna wondered what sort of a mother Beverley Hofstadter was. Amy Farrah-Fowler made her first cut in a controlled and awkward way, but as she got into it, a cry of "SHELDON COOPER, WHY WILL YOU NOT HAVE SEXUAL RELATIONS WITH ME!" escaped loudly. As if to underscore the point, she hacked right through the supporting pole at what, Johanna noted, would have been groin-height.

"We elso hev spare poles." she said, mildly, as the cabbage, almost undamaged, rolled away.

Amy stood back, face red.

"Did I really say that?" she said, embarrassed.

"Amy. You're among friends here." Leonard said, wearily. Expressing his feelings about his mother had worried him. If she found out, it would make half of her next book, for one thing.

Johanna nodded at Ponder Stibbons.

"Go ehead, Ponder. I know you hev a lot of feelings to express ebout the Feculty. Get it out of your system."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I liked that bit about "a bunch of self-opinionated old men stuck in an intellectual rut who never listen when I try to explain new ideas to them!" Leonard said to Ponder, later on in the day. "That sure sounds right."

Ponder nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed. He'd turned two cabbages into coleslaw.

"Man, your Dean sounds like a classic university administrator." Howard agreed. "Into big dinners and thinks academic prestige depends on schmoozing rich benefactors. Last time he had an original thought would have been forty years ago."

He paused. Then both said together "PRESIDENT SIEBERT!" and did a high-five.

"You'll meet him on Monday." Howard added, helpfully.

They sat back with cold sodas and watched the show. Johanna had ended machete training as possibly too hazardous. She was teaching the basics of knife-throwing instead. Interestingly enough, little Lucy was proving to be the star here. She and Bernadette were now hitting a target's right eye three times out of four. On discovering she had a couple of quick learners, Johanna had taken a black marker and crudely drawn faces on a couple of the cabbage-targets to make it more interesting.

"We'll have to get those two gals on a darts team." Howard mused. "Take them to that English pub over in Glendale where the Brits think they're the only people who know how to play. Man, we can clean up!" (5)

"Next time you have a row with Bernadette, do not let it be in the kitchen." Raj advised, joining them. "This new skill of hers will not end well."

"Isn't there an Indian chick-goddess with four arms?" Howard asked. "I bet she can throw a mean knife!"

Raj glared at him. "The Most Holy Goddess Kali does indeed possess four arms." he said. "And be warned, Howard, in her manifestation of Destroying Goddess, she is often depicted with a sword in each one!"

"Twice the firepower, huh."

++Johanna++ I am detecting a potentially serious situation++ HEX broke in. ++Three people are approaching the vehicle we were loaned to get us out here++ I suspect they have an intent to steal our mode of transport++

"Message received, HEX." Johanna said. She loosened the machete in its scabbard, patted her whip, and scooped up a crossbow and a fistful of bolts. She ran towards the bluff several hundred yards away, where the jeep was parked out of sight. After a moment's hesitation, Penny grabbed the nearest weapon and followed her. She didn't fancy the long hike back to the Caltech outstation over rough ground. Burt from Geology had taken them out quite a few miles.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1) The Shadowing Lemma is a creature known only on the Discworld. Its staple diet is the mental energy of mathematicians – it is one of the few creatures that prey on camels – but it is not above varying its diet with the occasional theoretical physicist. Johanna had trapped one by staking out a troll in the Pork Futures Warehouse, taking advantage of the confusion caused when it slipped down a multidimensional wormhole in superstring space, only to attempt to sink its fangs into the unyielding silicon of a supercooled troll who was contemplating seven-dimensional phase space. Whenever Sheldon Cooper provoked her to thoughts of violence, she wondered about introducing him to one. It was a pleasant thought.

2) Other worlds might say The cat is out of the bag now to describe the moment when an inconvenient truth is revealed.

3)"Mexican gardeners, huh?" the store proprietor had said, sympathetically. "Godamn migrant workers expecting you'll buy their tools for them? Always the way. I'll bet you any amount of dollar that when they move on to a new job, they'll take those with them and you'll never see the tools you bought again. If you got Mexican house staff, we do Lemon Pledge and cleaning gear too." Penny had explained local prejudices about Hispanic workers from the neighbouring country, viewed as lazy, idle, stupid, feckless and untrustworthy. "But we still invite them into our homes to do all the hard dirty work that Americans won't do, and they'll work all hours for half the pay. Which is kinda strange if they're all bums and lazy thieves, you know?"

4) And afterwards, the carcasses were trucked to the Guild kitchen for conversion into meals. Nothing got wasted. The pig carcass you stabbed for practice in the morning was on your dinner plate in the evening. Being hung outside in Ankh-Morpork in October did not spoil the meat, and as the Guild chef remarked, by the time he got them they were often surprisingly undamaged.

5) As a nation we have this prejudice. It remains a mystery why we never got darts, not to mention snooker, rugby union, and cricket, on the Olympic schedule in 2012. They were our bloody Games, after all, and our own sports would have got us a few more medals.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This episode's soundtrack:

The Doors - L.A. Woman

Al Wilson – The Snake

Dr Hook - When You're in Love With a Beautiful Woman

The Blue Öyster Cult – Black Blade

Chapter 10: The Amazon Partial Mastectomy Fallacy

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter ten© Chuck Lorré Productions, Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain.

Possible titles:

The Anonymous Equine In A Region Of Hypoprecipitation Definition?

The Partial Mastectomy Toxicologist Fallacy?

(Feel free to suggest your own...)

Johanna moved quickly, but my no means heedlessly, along the line of the bluff. Some things were so much a part of her, all the little fieldcraft routines learnt long ago, that they were now part of her body language. She kept her head below the skyline, for instance, and when she chose to break cover and look over the crest, she did so in the cover of an outgrowth of thorny scrub. Nobody with her combat background, first in the eternal border skirmishes in Howondaland, and then further honed by the Guild of Assassins, let themselves be seen. Not until they chose to be visible.

They had parked their jeep just off the dirt trail running past the mouth of the bluff, at Doctor Burt's advice. While he had considered it was only an outside possibility, he thought the rough uneven ground, the stony outcrops, and the general upward gradient were capable of blowing a tyre or damaging the suspension. Johanna had accepted his expertise and elected to hike a quarter mile or so into the canyon with her team.

And now she was looking down at the jeep about fifty yards away. Three of the clever two-wheeled motorbikes were parked up nearby. Johanna reflected she had heard a distant machine noise not long ago, but had assumed it was a vehicle of some sort on the trail and paid it little attention. She carefully moved the crossbow into the firing position and familiarised herself with its mechanics. It was a lightweight model of Roundworld manufacture, made in a combination of familiar wood and unfamiliar plastics. She instinctively knew it was a good weapon. And she was about to test it out under live conditions. She smiled, contentedly. This really was turning out to be a good day.

She heard a scrabbling noise over to her left, of stones and pebbles being dislodged. Not looking around, she discounted the possibility of discovery. The not-very-aware men down there were focused on the jeep and the possibility of stealing it while others in the group rode the hogs back to Bernadino. No, the noise to her left had to be Penny: she had sensed the capable blonde following her. She reasoned the other woman would be taking care and was capable of reading the situation. Events the previous day had reassured her that Penny would not freeze up in a fight and could, up to an as-yet-unknown point, take care of herself. The Caltech boys had spoken appreciatively of the night she had dropped a bully twice her size with a well-aimed groin kick. She opted to learn as much as she could about the nature of the threat before intervening, and watched the three would-be thieves, listening to their conversation.

...belongs to the brainiacs at Caltech. Geez, those intellectuals sure ain't streetwise.

...Leavin' a good jeep out here unattended. I mean, that ain't even theft. That's retrievin' lost property from the lost and found!

...They ain't that stupid. Somebody's taken the keys with them.

...So they can't be far away. We could track 'em, turn 'em over. Some of those professors earn good dollar. Leave 'em stranded out here, take their credit cards and ATM cards, I mean, hell, by the time they get rescued, we get the jeep AND a few thousand dollars!

Johanna considered this. She could get back to the camp, organise a defence, turn the tables, really surprise these people who sounded so sure of themselves. Then she realised it would be putting barely-trained people into danger, people she was coming to like and think of as friends. It wasn't as if they were student Assassins who would enjoy a little light exercise and the opportunity to demonstrate a public-spirited attitude towards unlicenced Thieves. She would have to deal with this here. She also wanted to be sure these three were alone and had no confederates elsewhere. Three motorcycles suggested these were all there were.

Nice thought. But they could be anywhere around here. I say we take the jeep, hotwire it. Whoever drives, we throw his hog in back and the other two follow.

One of the denim-and-leather clad Thieves went to climb into the front of the jeep. He leant forwards groping underneath the dashboard. Johanna grinned, aimed and fired.

Jesus freaking Christ! What the Hell was that?

Holy shit, dude! It's an arrow! A freakin' arrow!

Johanna swiftly moved position, thirty yards or so further down the crest. She raised her head under cover of another ragged shrub and aimed again.

Did you see where that came from? SHITTTT!

Her target jumped as a second arrow hit the ground within an inch of his foot. "I can't inhume them." Johanna thought, regretfully. "In this world, this would cause complications. There is no active contract. I cannot even be said to be defending myself against attack. These must merely be warning shots." She paused. "For now."

"Indians, man! Indians! The Sierra Madre was Indian country, in the old days! What if they're still there?"

"There's more than one of them up there!" one of his accomplices said, in a voice near panic. "What if they're Apaches, man? I saw that show, Deadliest Warrior.(1) Those guys rock!"

From somewhere over to her left, somebody ululated. Johanna rocked in a moment of silent laughter. Penny defined herself as an actress, she remembered. And she was close and listening.

"Apaches are in Arizona, man. And New Mexico." the more intellectual robber corrected his friend.

"And Nevada. And that's only on the other side of the state line."

"Hey! I'm bleeding here, man!" said the robber who'd tried to get into the jeep. "Any closer and that freakin' arrow would have taken my leg off!"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small but recognisable hand-gonne. He pointed it shakily towards the bluff and pulled the trigger.

Johanna felt a gratifying professional pride. Putting a hole in his denims and grazing his leg was exactly what she'd aimed that bolt to do. It had hardly been a difficult shot at forty yards. But to reinforce the point, she fired again. Apaches existed on the Discworld. They were popularly considered to be so mean that even Elves learnt from them.(2)

As the bullet passed harmlessly overhead and far wide of where she actually was, and as he fired wildly for a second time, a crossbow bolt smashed the pistol from his hand, whipping him backwards. He screamed and fell awkwardly, rolling in the desert sand and clutching his right hand. A second crossbow bolt, not fired by Johanna, passed through the air where he had been. Had it been a second earlier, it would at least have wounded.

"I'm outta here!" one of the others declared. "Apaches! Skin you alive over a campfire, dig?"

"Get Jerry! Jerry, buddy, can you ride a bike? We gotta get out of here!"

"We can bandage you up further down the trail." his other buddy said. "We gotta get outta here!"

Johanna heard somebody cautiously approaching from the left. It was Penny, who was holding a crossbow at the port.

"Thought you'd be about here somewhere." she whispered. "Backtracked the shots, sweetie. Neat shooting!"

Johanna put a finger to her lips. She was not unopposed to the would-be robbers leaving empty-handed. And they were too preoccupied to listen. She nodded and pointed to the three as they mounted their motorbikes.

"Just close enough to them for emphesis." she whispered. "Not to wound or kill."

Penny nodded, understanding. They each loosed a couple of shots as the bikes started up. Johanna smiled appreciation as Penny placed a bolt into the rear of a pillion seat, making the rider sit up, yelp, and swerve slightly. They both ululated again. Then laughed together. After a while, they went to retrieve the spent bolts, plus a somewhat bloodstained pistol.

"You keep it." Johanna said, as Penny offered it to her. "Those weapons are forbidden on my world. Thet was good shooting, by the way."

"Hell, it's like firing a rifle." Penny said. "Same sorta stock sits into the shoulder. Same trigger, more or less. Less recoil, but a different sort. Nice sights, ranged in, I reckon I can hit what I'm aiming at, four times out of five."

They returned to the group.

"We heard the shots!" Leonard said, anxiously. "What happened?"

"Meh, we dealt with it." Penny shrugged. "Won't get bothered again, hon. Got a drink?" She tossed down the trophy pistol, carelessly.

Ponder had an uneasy feeling that Penny had just passed the entrance exam for the Assassins' Guild School. He wondered what would happen when she visited the Discworld.

"I went up there to see if Johanna needed any back-up." Penny said. "I mean, lowlives trying to steal the jeep. After you guys told me what happened to you on the way to Bakersfield up at Vasquez Rocks, I sure as Hell wasn't intending to walk home! Anyway, she seemed to be doing just fine by herself and I was settling down to watch the show, then this asshole pulled a gun and started shooting."

"Yeah." Leonard said. "We heard the shots. Ponder told us all to grab what weapons we felt most comfortable with and go for cover. Penny, I was worried! You only had crossbows. Those guys had guns!"

Penny shrugged.

"Yeah. We had cover to shoot from. And advantage. I saw Johanna was goin' easy on them and aiming to only just miss. If you'd wanted to, sweetie, you'd have plugged the lot, right? I've been on hunting trips in Nebraska, Leonard. I know about cover. And if I can't hit a target, size of an asshole, at fifty yards, then I'm handin' my rifle licence in. When this guy started shootin' back, I reckoned the game had changed and I was gonna take him down and plead self-defense. Johanna got him first."

"Do we now have a body to bury?" Sheldon asked, tremulously.

Ponder winced. This was a complication. He wondered if HEX might be able to help here.

"No, moonpie. She just shot the gun out of his hand. Then we let 'em run for it and get a long way away."

"He was lucky." Johanna said. "When we retrieved our spent bolts end collected his ebendoned weapon, there were no severed fingers with it. Hed the bolt hit from a different engle, thet man would now be lementing the loss of part of his hend. Es it is, he will, et the least, hev broken end lecerated fingers."

++Medical records I am able to access suggest that the gentleman in question will present himself at the Canyon Ridge Hospital in Chino, San Bernadino County, claiming to have trapped his hand in the moving parts of a motorcycle engine++ HEX said.++Medical staff will be suspicious, but they will put it down to injuries sustained in a gang fight or criminal activity which he does not want to have brought to police attention++He will also have a gash in his right leg consistent with the very close passage of a bullet, or else an injury with a sharp blade such as, perhaps, the tip of a moving arrow++He will make a full recovery, but only after painful and expensive restorative surgery and physiotherapy++

"Sorry? You can access medical records? From the future?" Leonard said.

"HEX does operate a time machine, Doctor Hofstadter." Sheldon reminded him. "I can see nothing surprising in that."

"Sometimes it gets a little freaky." Leonard muttered.

"But now we've sorted thet out," Johanna said, briskly, "Who would like a little training with the crossbow?"

And eventually they returned to Pasadena. HEX had resumed paying appropriate music during the rest of the afternoon. This had included a Bollywood dance tune in Hindi, which had made Raj slightly irritable. He had been reluctant to translate the lyrics. ( 3 )

"Catchy tune, though" said Howard. Bernadette and Penny had got up to do some of the dance moves, including the one where the head and shoulders appear to go in opposite directions, giving the illusion that your head is moving horizontally. This had pacified Raj somewhat. It's hard to be indignant when two pretty girls are dancing for you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Did you have a good day, bro?" Johanna asked Lucy during the drive home. The girl smiled contentedly.

"I didn't realise knife-throwing would be so easy!" she said. "It was so... " she searched for a word. "...empowering!"

"Ag, everybody hes their own weapon proficiency." Johanna remarked. She felt the satisfaction of a good teacher with an enthusiastic class. Although watching Howard taken by surprise that even a crossbow generated recoil would stick in her mind. "I'm pleased you found yours so quickly. A pert of my job is to observe for students who demonstrate a perticular strength or effinity for a weapon end to nurture those skills. If it pleases you, I might be eble to orgenise more edvenced clesses."

"Johanna, I'd like that. I really would!" Lucy said.

"Bernadette was good at it too." Leonard remarked. "Hell, I wouldn't want to be the customer who pisses her off in the Cheesecake Factory. Not when the waitresses have all those knives where they can reach them."

HEX started to play another song. It was a ballad about a criminal called Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown who fatally annoyed somebody who knew how to use bladed weapons.

"When you visit my world." Johanna said, thoughtfully, "I will take you to the knife-throwing ranges. There, we cen take the lesson a little further."

The Guild had no objection to potential Mature Students being given taster lessons, she knew. Even though Assassins were generally started out at a far earlier age, the Guild had no objection to people of a suitable inclination applying for late entry, even if they hadn't actually inhumed anybody yet. The last Mature Students course had included two or three such carefully vetted and extensively pre-tested prospects, whom it was felt had talent.

And LeRoy's face looked just like a jigsaw puzzle, with a coupla pieces gone!

He was bad, bad, LeRoy Brown, the baddest man in the whole damn town...

Johanna hummed along with the song. It demonstrated a wicked sense of humour set to music. "And besides, it is the quiet, introverted, shy ones, the ones you might discount, who often turn out to be the deadliest Assassins. Arthur Ludorum, for instance, from Viper House..." (4) Lucy, she suspected, could be interesting.

"The longbow was fun too, when somebody strung it for me." Lucy remarked.

"Ja. Getting the string on is often the most difficult pert." Johanna agreed. She thought of Howard, Leonard and Raj all trying and failing even to bend the bow enough to nock the string. Even though she had bought a bow that was most like the one she handled on the Discworld, for familiarity's sake, and had specifically asked for one with a medium draw to make it easier for untutored students. Again, Lucy had surprised her, although Penny had grasped the essentials quickly, despite a moment's apprehension concerning the Amazon thing. She shook her head. It was amazing how this particular historical fallacy had taken root on this planet too. She remembered the ensuing conversation.

"The very best ercher I know hes both her breasts intect." Johanna had said, thinking of her colleague Miss Alice Band. "I hev seen her naked. I cen ettest to this. Pertial mestectomy is not required. Care hes to be taken in terms of posture end stence to ensure the bowstring does not slap beck into your body. But you should be more concerned for your erm. Wear the vembrece for protection."

"Err.. you've seen Alice Band, you know, errr..." Ponder had asked, cautiously. Johanna had shook her head.

"We shared a room, Ponder." she had replied, with forced patience. "I em elso sure – well, reasonably sure - I do not share her particular interests, if thet's whet's worrying you!"

Penny had grasped the unspoken sub-text.

"I get this sorta thing from Leonard sometimes." she had said. "Male insecurity, huh?"

"The same on both worlds, seemingly." Johanna agreed.

Howard looked up, interested, and his mouth opened to make a remark.

"Be careful, Howard." Johanna advised him. She had a suspicion as to what he would say. Two or three days of knowing him had alerted her to a lot. "Be very careful."

"So.. just out of interest, you understand.. there are gay gals on your planet? They, er, swing both ways?"

Johanna shook her head. Howard could be a trial...

"There is a thriving subculture for people of alternative gender preferences, yes." Ponder Stibbons said, quickly phrasing it in the right neutral-context form of words.

"I have a trusted friend." Johanna said, deliberately. "She favours the company of other women, shell we sey. But, Howard, end let me make this absolutely clear. My friend only swings in one direction. End it is not in the direction of men. We do not inhebit a society where "people of elternative gender preference" are completely eccepted. Ettitudes swing from tolerance to hostility. People who are of such en inclination keep it privately to themselves. Whet I em seying is thet epproaching my friend Miss Alice Band end esking if she's up for a threeway, bring enother hot chick, would be regarded on my world es a form of very inventive end painful suicide. Es she teaches erchery skills, it may involve errows. Are you hearing me, Howard?"

Howard had wilted. Penny had dispassionately remarked she'd had a moment like that with him too. The look on Bernadette's face had implied that there would be words, later.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, in the car, Johanna was analysing the potential pitfalls of taking these people to the Discworld. Howard Wolowitz would need careful chaperoning. A lot of people he could so easily offend would not even warn him first. And she still wasn't sure if Amy had grasped the necessary social skills for meeting the Librarian. Would Sheldon Cooper's sense of intellectual superiority win him friends at the University? It seemingly hadn't advanced him very much at his own. She sighed. It was going to take work. Leonard was adaptable and tended to think before he spoke. Most of the time. Bernadette wasn't all that streetwise in her own city and had needed to be saved from a mugging. Raj – hmm. Would a visit to Rosie Palm's help break him out of his crippling shyness around women? Rosie's talent as a self-trained sex therapist was legendary. It had made her rich. Johanna thought she could afford to pay for the costs of treatment. Noblesse oblige, and all that. Raj might even thank her for it. Lucy. Her proven ability in breaking and exiting. Looked at in a different way, that made her a born Thief. And Penny, she thought, would be most adaptable. But she'd have to learn to dress for the Disc. Even then, she'd cause streetfights and coach crashes. Décollétage was an accepted-but-optional part of female dress, even if baring your leg to the thigh was considered indecent. And Penny had décollétage to spare. Don't introduce her to Rosie Palm, Johanna thought to herself. Yet. I have plans for this cheesecake thing. Better we have a share in the profits than the Seamstresses' Guild.

HEX, sensing the mood, played a more mellow song via the car radios. It fitted: two cars and ten tired-but-generally-happy people were returning home after a good day out.

On the first part of the journey, I was looking at all the life;

There were plants and birds and rocks and things,

There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz ,
And the sky with no clouds;
The heat was hot, and the ground was dry,
But the air was full of sound -

I've been through the desert on a horse with no name,
It felt good to be out of the rain;
In the desert, you can remember your name,
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain...

They sang along. It was a good moment.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny had gone for a lucrative Saturday night shift at the Cheesecake Factory. The rest were gathered in Sheldon and Leonard's apartment, where the weapons and recoverable accessories from the day's exercise had been stacked under the window. Sheldon had recovered something of his usual self and was engaging Ponder and HEX in debate about the physics of the Discworld. HEX was delivering a version of his talk about the different gravitational fields to be found on different kinds of planets. This was accompanied by helpful animations scrolling across a computer screen.

"You gotta be putting me on!" Leonard said. "Carrotworld?"

++We have never seen one, admittedly++ HEX said. ++But it is a theoretical possibility++

The impossible cosmic carrot rotated on the screen, twenty-five thousand miles across its flat top, trailing out to a point possibly a hundred thousand miles below it. Or above it. Or laterally.

Raj groaned.

"Now I know I can never speak to anybody about this." he complained. "My career in astrophysics would be over in milliseconds." Lucy, who was quietly fascinated, patted his arm.

"But it is theoretically possible." Sheldon mused. "Let us say material sucked into a black hole is extruded via a wormhole through a white hole at the other end. Material under pressure is malleable and to a given value, fluid. Any malleable material extruded through a sphincter in space will taper... I'm sorry, Doctor Hofstadter, why are you finding this funny?"

"Oh. No reason, Sheldon. Sorry, carry on."

"Not so much a Big Bang as a great big..."

"Howard!" Bernadette squeaked, warningly.

"And the loci for gravitational force in what amounts to a long, regular, conical movement extruded via the powerful sphincter of a white hole, the zero point, will be very high up the body of the carrot. HEX, please run me these figures based on application of the Inverse Square Law which as everyone knows, states F is equal to mass one times mass two divided by R squared, where R is the distance between the two gravitational locii acting on each other." ..."

HEX obligingly did the math. Sheldon frowned and asked for clarification of a few points.

++I am assuming that like any planetary body of M-size density, Carrotworld will have an iron core.++ It will be liquid where the mass is greatest, but as the stem cools and thins, it will tend to the solid, underneath an accretion of rocky material.++

"So that molten core will be sufficient to enable a magnetic and gravitational field." Sheldon mused. "At the top of the carrot, there will effectively be a flat Earth where it is possible intelligent life might one day arise... and this gravitational field will enable it to retain an atmosphere of some kind. HEX, what is the probability of a roughly 80:20 nitrogen-oxygen mixture? We can start with these figures..."

"But we still don't have a complete theory of quantum gravity." Raj objected. Sheldon glowered at him.

"Doctor Kooprathali, may I remind you that as an astrophysicist, you are completely dependent on the brainpower of a genius-level theoretical physicist to provide the mathematical framework enabling you to visualise theories of the Universe? A genius level intellect such as Newton, Einstein, Stephen Hawking, or indeed myself..."

Ponder had read up on Newton, Einstein and Hawking as part of the Roundworld Project. He was familiar with the concepts of all three. But Sheldon Cooper as a fourth? He looked at Leonard.

Leonard sighed.

"He believes in it, Ponder. Every word."

"Remind me to tell you ebout the Shedowing Lemma sometime." Johanna said, mildly. She reached for some more potato chips.

"Oh, you're familiar with Eric Weisstein's seminal work in shadowing theory, which in its simplest form states that in the theory of dynamical systems, the shadowing lemma is a lemma describing the behaviour of pseudo-orbits near a hyperbolic invariant set?" Sheldon inquired. "Impressive, Doctor Smith-Rhodes!"

"Something very like thet, ja." she agreed. Ponder had once tried to explain that pseudo-orbits were a useful indicator that the Multiverse existed, and that things happening for real in the other leg of the Trousers of Time were felt as echoes and shadow reflections in our universe. (5) They also offered navigable pathways for Shadowing Lemmas, as the Disc knew them, to get into the heads of mathematicians.

"So... what we are saying is that there's nothing to stop Carrotworld existing somewhere out there?" Leonard said, mind slowly boggling.

++ It is an infinite Multiverse out there, Leonard++ HEX reminded him. ++And Doctor Cooper has now established theoretical proof that Carrotworld is viable.++

Leonard thought back to how he had accepted the existence of the even crazier Discworld. So why not a Carrotworld... Raj broke into his reflections with a long heartfelt moan.

"I believe it. I believe it alright. And now I am seeing the physical and mathematical proof. BUT WHO CAN I TELL?"

Lucy hugged him.

"I may have an idea, Raj. It isn't as bad as it looks." she said, shyly.

"Go on." Leonard said. "Please, Lucy. Right now we're all open to ideas."

Lucy explained her idea. It was brilliantly simple. It was good. It had a streak of genius.

So... all these freaky ideas we've been learning. People who are 95% certain to be from another world and who aren't putting it on. Who live on a freaky planet which isn't just a flat world, it rides through space on the backs of four elephants standing on a turtle."

"Can I see it?" Lucy asked, excitedly.

HEX obligingly re-ran his presentation of omniscope footage taken from the Kite on its voyage into space.

"Oh, wow!" she said. Again, Raj had a religious rapture. Again, Leonard saw the octarine. Bernadette squeaked with excitement. Again Howard asked how the water stayed on.

"And you see the problem?" Leonard asked, rhetorically. I'm sold. We've just seen too much. HEX. Four or five Ponders popping into existence all at once from other times to use the bathroom. That sample of rattlesnake venom that just... dissapeared. The time machine..." He indicated it with a wave of his hand. "We've seen it. It's for real. But the moment we all talk about it our careers are shot. I'd be lucky to get a busboy job at the Cheesecake Factory. Howard ends up as a plumber in bathrooms that aren't in space."

"Still good dollar, though. I'd be better off." Howard mused.

"Raj gets deported back to India."

"There are so-called new universities in England." Raj sighed. "Many of which used to be community colleges. I could get a job there. I could claim a British passport."

He still shuddered. He gave the impression that a British passport, after California, was definitely second-best choice.. And that community colleges were one enormous step downwards for people used to proper universities.

Cold rainy climate. Fish and potato fries. An Indian expat community with its head up its own rectum and no way to escape an arranged marriage. Or Chicken Tikka Massala."

"Bernadette... well, she'd end up dispensing in a drugstore. That's the only sort of chemistry they'd let her anywhere near. Amy, she'd be working with brains still, but in a butcher's store. or a meat packing line. As for Sheldon, sent back to East Texas to teach evolution to Creationists."

Sheldon shuddered and a look of real pain passed across his face.

"And just because we met two travelling aliens. Great guys. Terrific people. Honored to know you both and it's a real pleasure. But if we ever make the mistake of talking about you..."

Johanna and Ponder looked at each other. They'd started all this, after all.

"You are yet to see our world." she said, gently. "The offer of taking you all for a stay there is still open."

"And Lucy has made a very interesting suggestion." Ponder reminded them. "Her idea may offer a way out from your dilemma".

He stood up.

"And if you excuse me, I need to use the bathroom." He forestalled a protest from Sheldon.

"Housemate Agreement, Sheldon. I know, I haven't forgotten. HEX, could you?"

++Ready, Ponder++

Ponder Stibbons took a step forward. And vanished into thin air. There was a "pop"" noise as of air rushing into a sudden unexpected vacuum. Lucy yelped. Then he reappeared.

"Johanna? Remind me again what I said to myself this morning?"

"You said you were the Ponder from ten o'clock tonight. You said you could not talk too much about whet we did today es it would set up en emazing temporal peradox. But you did warn us to take care around the cars. For which I thenk you, by the wey."

"Right. Got it. Thanks, doll!"

And he disappeared again. There was another "pop!" and a silence.

"Well, I'm convinced." Lucy said.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What exactly is Lucy's brilliant idea to resolve the situation and make sure the guys can talk about everything, without risking academic ostracism and the death of their careers? Read on in the next pop-culture-reference packed episode of...

(1) For more about Apache Indians on the Discworld, read my story Small Medium – Large Problem in which Mrs Evadne Cake, spirit medium, and her spirit guide One-Man-Bucket have to deal with another would-be medium, who summons up a different sort of Red Indian Spirit Guide to steer her path. Which becomes one of slaughter, mayhem, and things with too many tentacles from the Dungeon Dimensions.

(2) Deadliest Warrior is one of those TV shows which, like Man V Food, could only be made in America. As if to answer the perennial bar-room and internet forum question Who would win in a battle between {{Concept A}} and {{Concept B}} , this series set out to decide, using historical knowledge, reconstruction, CGI, and lots of gore, what would happen if warrior castes from all over the world, (who because of time and space would never have met in a real fight), got it on. Not without controversy over violence and methodology, it became a huge worldwide hit. Other controversies emerged too: the one where the Provisional IRA are lauded as heroes and freedom fighters (largely by Irish-American commentators) has never been shown in Britain, where we have a different and rather more accurate perception of Irish terrorists. It is fair to say Israelis would not be sympathetic to a TV show featuring the PLO, HAMAS and al-Quida as noble freedom fighters! In the show, Apaches take on Roman gladiators. And win.

(3) Chehre Jo Dekhe Hain, from the musical "What's your Rashee" The song is performed from the point of view of a painfully shy but worthy village postman, dreaming about all the unattainably beautiful women he delivers letters to, who in his dream sequence obligingly join him for the mandatory big song-and-dance number. It is possible HEX was giving Raj a nudge about his painful shyness and selective mutism. The film was a critical failure in India, and many commentators criticised its length. Apparently 3 hours 21 minutes makes it too short, by Bollywood standards.

(4) Arthur Ludorum first appears as a shy and bulliable student Assassin in Pyramids, by Terry Pratchett. But appearances deceived. They certainly deceived the bully Cheesewright.

(5) As Granny Weatherwax discovered when the wals of reality got thinner in Lords and Ladies. Sam Vimes also provided experimental proof of this in Jingo, where just for a second two different versions of him split off and picked up the other's Disorganiser, which duly reported back real events belonging to the parellel universe next door, no doubt transmitting along pseudo-orbits. This is the sort of thing that would make Ponder Stibbons very excited indeed- if only he knew about it...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This episode's soundtrack:

Chehre Jo Dekhe Hain by Javed Akhtar and music by Sohail Sen.

Bad, Bad, LeRoy Brown by Jim Crocé.

Teen Archer by the Blue Öyster Cult (sample line: She got less than you and I; she got less than me; go figure)

A Horse With No Name by America

Podcast available. Episode edited to remove typos and minor inconsistencies.

Chapter 11: The Malignity Exclusion

The Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter Eleven© Chuck Lorré Productions, Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain.

Possible titles (feel free to devise your own: PM me with them? Namechecks will be given)

The Malignity Exclusion

The Sandman Anamoly

The Insufficiently Convincing Anthropomorphic Personality Conundrum

Prologue: Friday morning at 5311 Zoo Drive, Los Angeles, California.

The veterinarian stood up from the stricken animal and shook his head, sadly.

Lo siento mucho, Jorgé." he said, with great sympathy to the grieving keeper. "No blame to you, OK? These things happen. I'll need to PM to be sure, but it looks like sudden death syndrome. These guys are prone to it. Musta happened overnight. The body was still warm. Wish we knew what caused it, though."

Jorgé the zookeeper stood sadly for a moment. He had loved Ali Baba for all his bad temper, quirks, spitting, and a haughty demeanor. That animal could look down its huge flared nostrils at you and give you the feeling he was ten times cleverer than any human. And now he was dead...

Jorgé sighed and started to make arrangements to have the corpse trucked away and put on ice before the first of the paying public got in. Showing them dead animals was bad for business.

Saturday night into Sunday morning. Flat 4a, 2311 north los Robles, Pasadena, CA.

The creature watching from a different sort of shadow had no formal name. It might once have been indexed by its parents. It had a sort of intellect that operated in the world of numbers, letters, and all the things that came afterwards, when the letters of several different orthographies had all been allocated to concepts. It also had a certain animal cunning. But in all other respects it was something of an idiot savant. It could get lost in abstract contemplation to the exclusion of all else, including personal grooming. If it had feet in the formal sense, it would trip over them. If it wore shoes to go with those feet, they would go onto the wrong feet and only patient trial and error would put them on the right ones. In extreme cases it needed to be reminded to eat. In so many respects it had much in common with professional theoretical mathematicians. It had fed, a day or so previously, and had no pressing need for another meal just yet. But the smell, the taste, and the sensation was something it could not ignore. The last meal had been fast food – there, readily available, and almost immediately forgotten. This would be gourmet....

Ponder Stibbons awoke from a deep sleep. Surprisingly for him, he awoke all the way in one go, alert, refreshed and deeply worried. Something was wrong, in some indefinable way he could not put a finger on... he felt Johanna stir next to him. Deep, very deep, wizard senses were calling him. Mustrum Ridcully would have been proud of his pupil.

"Pndr?" Johanna mumbled.

"I'm not sure. It could be nothing. But something doesn't feel right. Could be trouble."

Johanna was awake in an instant.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And Sheldon Cooper thought he awoke, sitting upright in his bed, into what might have been his room. But it was transformed, with impossible slopes and angles and distortions. It was illuminated, in a sort of greeny-white, but he could not tell where the source was. Sheldon blinked, then he started to analyze his surroundings.

"Interesting." he said, mildly. His word echoed oddly. The acoustics in this place were... strange. His mind compared images from his eidetic memory until analogies and inferences started to link disparate items of information together. He swung his legs out of bed and moved excitedly towards the light.

The chemist Kékulé was working for years on the structure of benzene. C6H6. It absorbed all his waking energies but he could still not figure out how six atoms of hydrogen, valency one, could create a chemical compound with six atoms of carbon, valency four. He could not get the logic and the math right. And then one night he dreamt...

Sheldon heard distant echoes of his thoughts echoing away.

….dreamt... dreams...

He looked back. He could no longer see his bed and the little circle of normal three-dimensional reality it represented. He shrugged. No matter. He was pretty certain now what he was seeing. All those years of training, of applying a mental discipline, of seeking to truly understand multidimensional space despite the limitations of being trapped in a body only capable of experiencing four dimensions. He had broken through.

He was seeing a tesseract from the inside.

Exultantly, his mind started to recite the mathematical proofs for the existence of a four-dimensional hypercube. And the even stranger multidimensional polyhedrons that lay beyond it in higher dimensions still.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And the creature laughed in primal joy. Soon it would feed...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna was dressed in pretty minimal night attire: skimpy vest and shorts. But she did not bother with non-essentials such as outer clothing. She buckled sword and whip directly over her nightclothes and slipped her feet into the soft fluffy slippers she'd bought. They were pink. (1)

"Is enyone in danger?" she asked.

"I'm not sure." Ponder admitted. "But the feeling's strong.."

"A wizerd's headache, yesno?" she said, sympathetically. "You are a wizerd. You currently hev a sensation thet danger is near. Es en Essessin, I would be foolish or over-confident to ignore thet. Let me esk a few questions? Who do you think or fear is in danger?"

"Sheldon..." Ponder burst out. The answer seemed to bypass his brain.

"Why do you think Sheldon Cooper is in danger?" she probed.

"His... mind. Something is interested in his mind." Ponder said. Again the answer seemed to come from somewhere other than his conscious mind.

"Is thet something nearby?" she asked.

Ponder was silent. He looked confused.

"I'm not certain. It's nearby, because I felt it. And Sheldon's in the room next door. But the signal's weak."

Johanna considered. Then she called "HEX?"

There was no reply. She wondered for a second if the thinking engine – which she had no doubt was self-aware, sentient and intelligent – also needed sleep at two in the morning. Maybe sleep was the price you paid for intelligence. Then she realised, and rolled across Ponder to switch on one of the IPODs.

++I hear you, Johanna" HEX said through the speaker. ++Professor Stibbons? I detect Malignity. Searching.++

Sheldon Cooper moved further out. Taken up with the perfect geometrical beauty of the tesseract, a little part of him was wondering why the floor underneath his feet was turning to gritty black sand...

"Malignity." Ponder breathed.

"And thet's bed." Johanna said, making it almost a question.

"It's just that... every time we've had to enter the Roundworld to intervene or put something right, something with an agenda of its own has tried to stop us." Ponder explained. "The Elves.(2) The Auditors (3). The Omnians. (4) The Four Horsemen, once. (5). Who's it going to be this time?"

"Essume I'm ignorant, Ponder. Why heve you hed to interfere so often?"

"Well, the Prime Directive for the Roundworld Project is to ensure that when the time comes, the human race can get off this planet, which is doomed in the next two centuries, and thrive elsewhere. The Horsemen wanted to see the Armageddon they'd trained for, the Auditors wanted to tidy up and leave a neatly swept space, the Elves wanted to see humanity destroyed for the fun of it, and the Omnians simply wanted to destroy the Project because they thought it disproved their religion and was therefore unholy..."

"So whet's the issue here?" Johanna asked. "Why are we intervening here, in a small way, in the lives of seven or eight people in this Celifornia? Hes HEX told you what they hev to do with the Prime Directive? Why should something currently unknown to us be threatening Sheldon Cooper? How important is he to getting the human race into space?"

Ponder leapt up, suddenly realising the implications.

"And who or what is working against us this time?" he demanded. "Johanna. Magic doesn't work here. I'm practically powerless. I'm going to have to go back to the University and consult with Ridcully and the rest. Even if Sheldon is killed here... we can reverse the timeline. We've done it before."

"Bugger thet!" Johanna growled. "Voetsaak on thet! I'm here. I'm an Essessin. I'm bodyguarding. When I escort and bodyguard, Ponder, my clients stey elive!"

Faced with a red-head's temper suddenly igniting, Ponder sat back hurriedly.

"However many other people I hev to inhume!" she shouted.

There was a mechanical cough.

++May I intrude?++ HEX inquired. ++Professor Stibbons, you may not be completely helpless here.++Certain mental disciplines taught to students at Unseen University are still valid here.++You sensed a psychic danger, for instance, which awoke you from sleep.++I infer that the source of this power is in your mind, rather than in the standing magical wave of the Discworld, and thus this confers a small advantage even on Roundworld++

++It is true that magic has little validity here, just as religion on this world is almost entirely a matter of faith in Gods who do not show themselves.++

++But where religion meets mysticism, even Roundworld science is beginning to wonder if there may not be something valid in certain things we take for granted as magical++

"End this is in aid of, HEX?" Johanna asked. "I em going to check on the others. I will not be long."

She stalked off, silently. HEX and Ponder were quiet for a moment.

++The Malignity has guided Sheldon Cooper into a trap.++ HEX said. ++It is the sort of trap Sheldon would enter of its own free will as it is baited with things that draw his scientific curiosity and intellectual conceit.++It is currently waiting for a discharge of mathematical energy which is sufficient to its feeding needs.++

Ponder leapt up and yelped.

"One of THOSE?" he shouted. "I thought they were incredibly rare!"

++Their numbers are constrained by the total number of mathematical geniuses in the world at any one time, certainly." ++ HEX replied. ++Until we arrived, they were unknown on this world.++

Hex suddenly made a noise that sounded like an embarrassed cough.

++Our passage to this world opened up a pseudocurve for it to follow.++ Inadvertently, I brought it here.++ I have just accessed a report of a strange death in the Los Angeles Zoo on the night we arrived. ++ A previously healthy camel was found to have died for no readily apparent cause.++ They are explaining it as an attack of Sudden Camel Death Syndrome(6).++But this is no coincidence.

"A Shadowing Lemma." Ponder said, slumping.

++Quite so, Ponder.++ We must contain or destroy it. Johanna's skills will be of a little use. ++ But the onus is on us.++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sheldon Cooper moved through a world of mathematical and physical wonder. His mind was running equations as he sought to make sense of what he saw.

The Lurker in the shadows tensed. Dinner was cooking. Soon the dining room bell would ring.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What do you recommend, HEX?" Ponder asked.

++I will shortly be extruding part of myself into Sheldon's current location, in order to confront and if possible contain the danger.++

"Errr... how, exactly, HEX?"

++Consider the magical discipline known variously as shadow-walking, Entering The Planes, Accessing the Astral Body, and so on.++ Both wizards and witches use it.++ The most common Witch variant is the practice of Borrowing, when part of her mind is detached from the body to ride in the mind of another++

"And?" Ponder asked.

++The Roundworld speculates it happens here, although opinions are mixed++ It has been called the OOB, or Out Of Body experience.++A practical consequence of the sort of quantum physics being defined on this world is that, although they are slow to realise it, science is meeting the mysticism it otherwise scorns.++ The higher multiple dimensions and superstring accretions of Sheldon Cooper may also contain the Astral Plane of the mystics.++ Sheldon Cooper is walking one such now, although as Johanna is currently observing, his body is still in bed asleep.++ And that is where both of us now must go.++ This is not an Assassin's fight.++

Ponder knew what was required.

"But, HEX, I need a..."

A ceremonial octagram appeared on the bedroom floor, outlined in pure blue light.

++Step into the Octragram, Professor. ++Compose yourself. ++I am a thing constructed to handle millions of magical operations per second, remember? ++The interior of the octagram is technically on the floor of the High Energy Magic Building. This enables us to draw on Discworld resources. ++Stand by.++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna silently toured the people she could reach and felt she had to guard over. She felt vaguely guilty about intruding on Penny and Leonard, and departed their bedroom as silently as she entered, once she assured herself they were in deep healthy sleep. She opted to watch Sheldon, as the danger appeared to centre on him. Sitting silently on a chair in his room, she hoped Howard, Bernadette, Raj, Amy and Lucy were out of danger. She hardly knew where to find them, apart from a vague awareness they were scattered across a big city and out of her reach.

Sheldon seemed unthreatened, and appeared to be talking in his sleep, or at least mumbling. She leant over.

"{(x1 ,x2 ,x3 ,x4 ) €R4 : -1 ≤ x1 ≤ 1}" Sheldon mumbled. "Where x1 represents one side of a tesseract, or hypercube, rotated through ninety degrees in n-dimensional hyperspace..."

There was a lot more like this, accompanied with scribbling motion of his fingers as if he were writing something down. Johanna settled down to wait.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The duty student wizards in the High Energy Magic Building saw the ceremonial octagram form on the floor. They also saw, in a professionally disinterested way, a bemused-looking Professor Stibbons step into it from seemingly nowhere, then adopt a cross-legged meditation position. Apart from a bit of interest as to why Stibbo was only in his underwear, this passed without comment. Probably doing some sort of research or other and he's on the third successive all-nighter. That explains him forgetting to put his clothes on. Especially if he's still seeing that red-haired bird from the Assassins' Guild. Hardly worth his while to put any clothes on, in that case. I certainly wouldn't... They shrugged, and got on with their own stuff.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder had the uneasy feeling of being in more than one place at once. As he slowed his breathing, trying to remember that separating the astral and physical bodies was a skill inherent in the person's mind and not in the magical field of the place, he remembered Professor George Cecil-Jones, his tutor in Skywalking, Borrowing and Astral Walking, assuring the class that half the time they'd feel like idiots and suspect this was some thinly disguised joke at their expense. And most of the other half they would wonder if they were only imagining things. But imagination and reality are not as separate as you would think – use that guided imagination...(7)

Ponder visualised Sheldon Cooper's long thin body and perpetually dissaproving expression. As he had been taught, he built up the picture in his mind, adding more and more detail, right down to the yellow lightning-flash on the red tunic shirt...

"Professor Stibbons?" a voice said, close to his ear. Ponder jumped, then realised that technically he had no body to jump with.

"HEX?" he asked.

Hex had taken on a human shape here; a glowing golden body, that of a young man in peak physical condition.(8)

"It is good to take on a discrete form." HEX said. "And on this plane, Professor, we can alter our appearance and identity as we choose."

Ponder considered it.

"Can I stay me, at least for now?" he asked. He looked at the incredible landscape.

"Wow..." he said. "What is this?"

"We are inside a n-dimensional tesseract in phase space." HEX explained. "The entity who we seek has shaped this as a trap Sheldon Cooper could enter, but will only be able to leave again at the whim of his captor. And the creature will soon be aware of us. Try not to think mathematically and it will ignore us as random dreaming humans. Of little nutritional value."

"Hivers." Ponder mused. "They seek to capture interesting minds through dreams."

"That thing I choose not to name is on the same branch of the tree of life, certainly. They are related species."

"But we need to locate Sheldon." Ponder said.

"Our priorities are to find Sheldon, prevent him from thinking in mathematical equations, fight off or preferably destroy the creature, and to return intact to our bodies." HEX said. "I have ideas concerning fighting the entity."

Ponder looked down at himself, considered, and visualised wizard robes and a pointy hat. Almost instantly, he was wearing them.

"Ask for your staff." HEX prompted him. "A wizard's staff exists in many dimensions. It will have reality."

There was an octarine flash. The staff Ponder had been issued on graduation, the one he very rarely actually carried and privately considered to be deadweight in the modern wizarding age, was suddenly there. And it weighed every bit as heavy.

"HEX? Isn't this... black sand under our feet?"

"From one of two Dimensions you are correctly refraining from naming? Are you surprised at that?

The golden golem, impossibly beautiful, strode on confidently. Ponder followed, shuddering at the thought of the Dungeon Dimensions intruding here. Or... the other place that had black sand underfoot. Maybe they were aspects of the same place... and then they saw Sheldon, crouched down, humming to himself. He was using his fingertip to draw into the sand.

"SHELDON! NO!" Ponder shouted. Sheldon Cooper's head turned in surprise. Then he smiled warmly. Oblivious of danger.

"Professor Stibbons! Come and look! Thinking comes so clearly here! I so wish there was a whiteboard and pens, but you have to make do..."

As if on cue, a large whiteboard on an easel materialised. Colored pens cascaded into place.

"Sheldon!" Ponder insisted, deliberately scuffing the convoluted physical equations drawn in the sand as he ran forwards. "Don't you see? There's danger here! You have to come back with us! We know the way!"

He turned to HEX.

"We, err, do know the way back, don't we?"

The golden golem shrugged.

"Trust me, professor. I know what I'm doing."

"And... who are you, exactly?" Sheldon asked, puzzled. "You cannot be the popular television cop Sledge Hammer, despite using his rather humorous catch-phrase. You have better dress sense, for one thing."

"I am HEX, Doctor Cooper." Hex replied. "This is the physical form I choose to take, when I am able."

"Your voice is different." Sheldon said. "But having translated your intelligence into a cyborg shell, I assume different voice-processors are working?"

"Hold that thought, Doctor Cooper. Attempt, if you can, to think and speak on the mundane level. There will be time for more cerebral reflection later."

There was a sudden frustrated shriek. It rang and echoed.

"What was that?" Sheldon asked, jumping with fear.

"That is the master of this place." HEX said. "It is the reason why we need to leave. Immediately."

The three turned and made haste, Ponder holding tightly to Sheldon's arm.

"It won't let you leave." Ponder said, as Sheldon protested and tried to shake him off. "You may not be aware – you won't be aware – but it's here to eat your mind, Sheldon. You've been feeding it. I can't let you go."

Sheldon shrieked and froze. Ponder grimaced. A catatonic Sheldon was all he needed.

He looked round. HEX was confronting something that reared up, huge and dark, its outline constantly quivering and reshaping. It looked like a Mandelbrot set fuelled by nightmare. He winced. He'd glimpsed this before. But HEX had beaten it then... it reached huge indistinct Paisley-patterned fronds towards HEX, like insubstantial but deadly tentacles.

HEX began to intone, dispassionately

"Two plus two equals five. Twenty-three is not a prime number. There is such a thing as the square root of minus one. I will now mathematically demonstrate this to you..." HEX passed over to the whiteboard and picked up a pen.

The thing hissed, screeched and retreated.

Sheldon shook his head. "No, no, no. That's all wrong! Has HEX contracted a virus? There is no such thing as the square root of minus one..."

Ponder put a hand over Sheldon's mouth.

"That thing is called a Shadowing Lemma". He explained, urgently. "It lives on the intellectual energies of mathematicians. HEX is deliberately giving it tainted food. Bad math. That's like dosing somebody's lunch with poison? Salt over a garden slug? HEX is giving us time to get away!"

Sheldon and Ponder ran. Ponder was hoping his feet, astral and insubstantial as they were, were going in approximately the right direction now the creature's attention was distracted and HEX was weakening it.

He could now sense the insubstantial blue cords leading back to their physical bodies. This was good enough. He prayed there were going to be no other problems... and he wished Rincewind, the Discworld champion at running away and evading things, were here.

Oh, no... no, no, no...

PROFESSOR STIBBONS. said a voice, heavy as lead and ponderous as old granite. AND DOCTOR SHELDON LEE COOPER.

He looked up at a seven-foot figure cloaked in black and holding a scythe. That scythe could cut both blue cords in a heartbeat. A final heartbeat.

DO NOT FEAR ME. Death said. ALL YOUR TIMES ARE NOT YET GONE. YOU ARE HERE, BUT YOU ARE NOT DONE.

"I suppose you're about to say something profound about your not being feared by the seasons, the snow, the wind and the rain?" Sheldon said, pulling himself up to a height nearly as tall as Death.

Death shook his head.

IT'S QUITE A CATCHY LITTLE NUMBER, ISN'T IT? I OFTEN HUM IT AS I WORK. I HAD A HAND IN WRITING IT, TOO! (9)

"You can have too much of a good thing, I find." Sheldon repeated. "Besides, that song is such a cliché these days. Even when Marvel Comics used it as a theme in the "Revenge of Vera Gemini" story arc in The Avengers, which itself incidentally was originally a song title lifted from the Blue Öyster Cult album Agents of Fortune which premiered their most famous song "Don't Fear The Reaper", it was still a cliché. Even in 1978."(10)

Sheldon looked only slightly up at Death. His eyes narrowed and his forehead furrowed slightly.

"Anyhoo. If you're the anthropomorphic personification of Death, you're wrong."

"WRONG?" Death inquired, with a hint of puzzlement.

"Wrong." Sheldon said, emphatically. "In Neil Gaiman's "Sandman" series of graphic novels, Death takes the form of a perky, sympathetic and most appealing teenaged girl of a certain Gothic demeanor. As a connoisseur of the genre, I consider that far more up-to-date, and indeed user-sympathetic for the recipient of Death's bespoke service, than the rather outmoded Ingmar Bergman Seventh Seal personification you embody. If your plan is to collect me here, I really must insist on seeing the personification of Death who is most suited to my individual socio-cultural expectations. Or I'm not going."

Death stood aside. As was common with many people meeting Sheldon Cooper for the first time, he appeared bemused and puzzled. His gaze had shifted from Sheldon. Ponder's mouth hung open. Were they really going to get away with this approach?

I AM HERE FOR SOMETHING THAT BELONGS DEAD, YES. BUT IT IS NEITHER OF YOU. BESIDES, PROFESSOR STIBBONS AND MR HEX BELONG TO A DIFFERENT JURISDICTION WITH ITS OWN DEATH. I COULD TAKE YOU IF THERE WAS A NEED, BUT THAT WOULD BE ACTING AS A LOCAL AGENT FOR MY COLLEAGUE ON THE DISCWORLD. WHICH MEANS INVOICES, SHIPPING ORDERS, AND A LOT OF PAPERWORK. NOW IF YOU EXCUSE ME, MR HEX IS ABOUT TO DROP A LOGIC-BOMB ON THE SHADOWING LEMMA. I AM REQUIRED.

Death stalked down into the tesseract. He turned left, then reappeared and took a different path.

BUGGER. I ALWAYS GET CONFUSED IN THESE BLOODY THINGS.

There was a distant Dopplering screech. HEX returned.

"I see Doctor Cooper is overcome by the stress of his near-Death experience." he said. It was true; Sheldon was curled up as the reality of the situation, and of who he'd just been defiantly talking to, set in.

"We still need to get him back." Ponder said. "And with the Lemma now dead, this place could collapse on us at any moment."

"Just so, Professor Stibbons. Excuse me while I change appearance? Doctor Cooper should be reunited with his physical body in the least traumatic way possible."

There was a shimmer, and the golden golem disappeared. In its place was an unthreatening little old lady who smiled warmly at Sheldon. She spoke with a Texas accent.

"Mee-maw?" Sheldon said, his eyes looking up with sudden love and comfort.

"Y'all come with me now, Shelley." HEX said, extending a hand. Sheldon took it.

"Sing "Soft Kitty" to me, mee-maw." Sheldon said, in a trusting little boy voice.

Ponder sighed, unsure if the deception was all that ethical, but followed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sheldon awoke, sitting up in bed with a start.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes?" he said. "I've just had the most wonderful dream..."

After a while, Sheldon asked for pen and a legal pad. Johanna found it for him, and he started writing his insights down.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The duty wizards in the High Energy Magic building saw Professor Stibbons blink, stretch and stand up from the glowing octagram. He appeared to have found proper wizarding robes, a pointy hat and a staff from somewhere, so that was alright, you wouldn't want to embarrass the poor chap, we all do it... you get a "Eureka!" moment... He stood up and left the octagram, and vanished. After a moment or two the octagram itself winked out of existence.

++Mr Ossuary?++ Professor Stibbons was conducting a practical experiment into simultaneous manifestations in multiple dimensions of space-time.++ HEX inobtrusively said into the ear of a researcher who had paid more attention than most. ++Your own researches into broccoli phase-space require your active attention, however++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"HEX?" Ponder asked, after returning to his body with a physical start. He wasn't going to ask if that had been just a dream. He was, after all, a wizard.

++Yes, Ponder?++

"How exactly did you finally kill the Lemma? We know bad maths, really bad maths, can hurt it. But it must have taken some seriously fallacious reasoning to poison it to death. Death mentioned a "logic bomb"? "

++Quite so, Ponder. After our previous encounter with the Lemma, in which the deciding factor was not intelligence or mathematics but the brute force used by Sergeant Detritus to physically wrestle its essence into an appropriate cage, I reflected on that operation and decided how any future encounters might be made less hazardous++I introduced it to mathematical paradox. How two points of view, mutually exclusive, may be simultaneously held and both are correct for a given value of correct.++

Hex paused and radiated a certain smugness.

++Its head exploded.++ Now should we be attending to Sheldon?++SOFT KITTY++WARM KITTY++LITTLE BALL OF FUR...++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So many questions. We've established Sheldon and the gang all have vital contributions to make in helping the human race get off a doomed planet (admittedly in several centuries time.) Therefore the creators of the Roundworld Project, the wizards of Unseen University, the instigators of the Cosmic Threshold Event that created the human universe, now have a moral and ethical duty under their Prime Directive (see the Science of Discworld novels/science expies) to ensure key people vital to the future migration into space remain alive and come up with key insights at the right times. Hence Ponder, HEX and Johanna visiting Caltech to befriend the gang at a crtiical moment in Earth's history.

But... why are they so important?

Read on in the next episodes...

1) Because no woman is completely immune. Trust me.

2) Science of Discworld Two.

3) Science of Discworld Three.

4) Science of Discworld Four.

5) In my S.o.D. novella Doppelgangers, in which War and the rest try to throw a spanner in the works this time.

6) This really exists. Since 2007, camels have been dropping dead in some numbers for no readily apparent reason. The disease is centred on the East of Africa and Saudi Arabia, and is being blamed on stress, environmental contamination, contaminated water, overwork by humans, parasite infections, et c. In other words, nobody's got a clue. Given the Discworld association of camels and higher mathematics, one wonders...

7) A lift from Robert Anton Wilson's Masks of the Illuminati, a novel about occult initiation at the hands of the flamboyant Alaistar Crowley and his associate, the deliberately anonymous George Cecil Jones (nobody has written a biography of this equally eccentric Englishman, who had possibly at least as much influence as Crowley. Maybe because Jones took great care not to court attention and allowed Crowley to take all the notoreity...)

8) I'm borrowing from somebody else's fanfic here. With real apologies, and PM me – I know you read my stories. But you are the person responsible for speculating what form HEX might choose if he were to be made human. It was a great tale. I've borrowed it. Thank you and I'll give you a namecheck!

9) I've written this one too. I had to take it down from FF as I got a warning about using real living people in fanfic; but the tale of how DEATH, assisted by the demon Anthony Crowley, influenced the writing of the song "Don't Fear The Reaper" is on my A03 fanfic account. (Which doesn't mind real people fic). In which the Angel and the Demon from "Good Omens" have a career as pop music Svengalis. Aziraphile gets Van Morrison, Cliff Richard and others of a similar ilk. Crowley kick-starts the career of Black Sabbath and hangs out in the American punk/hard rock scene of the 1970's...

10) Because there is a little Sheldon Cooper fanboy in all of us just aching to show off his knowledge of utter trivia. And where else and in which other character's voice could I have said this?

This episode's soundtrack:

Ali Baba's Camel - the Bonzo Dog Doodah Band

Don't Fear The Reaper

The Revenge of Vera Gemini – the Blue Öyster Cult

Shame I can't compile a podcast to go with these stories...

Chapter 12: The Legrange Point Exposition

More Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter Eleven© Chuck Lorré Productions, Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain.

Possible titles (feel free to devise your own: PM me with them? Namechecks will be given)

A long one, possibly a bit wordy, but the exposition calls for it. Think of it as like The Science of Discworld, Six.

Sunday:

Breakfast was eaten in apartment 4a. Sheldon Cooper was seemingly no worse for his ordeal during the night, and was frantically eager to tell everyone how something which had seemed really frightening at the time had been turned into a beautiful dream when his mee-maw had entered to kill the evil thing that had been menacing him, had sung him "Soft Kitty", and led him by the hand back to bed.

"I wondered why you didn't wake us all up screaming, Sheldon." Leonard said. "So it all turned out alright in the end, huh?"

"What was the big bad, Moonpie?" Penny asked. "I asked 'cos Leonard had a bad dream last night too..."

"Interesting." Sheldon said, in a disinterested flat voice, cutting her off. "Mee-Maw was just how I remembered her. She is lovely..."

"Leonard dreamt of some sorta vampire thing hovering over him as if it was wondering about eatin' his brains. And with Leonard's brains, that's a five-course dinner for eight people, right?" Penny went on. "But it went away for some reason. Leonard said he thought it was goin' off after Sheldon. Then he said he hoped it died of over-eating, and he went back to sleep again."

Johanna and Ponder exchanged looks.

"Bit off more than it could chew, huh?" Leonard remarked. "Did your vampire have wings like a Mandelbrot set, Sheldon?"

"I vaguely recall something like that." Sheldon said. "But HEX, or a cyborg robot containing HEX's intelligence, was in the dream. Looking like C3P0 from StarWars, I must add. And for some reason Professor Stibbons, although he was dressed like Harry Potter."

Penny looked over at Ponder. A Ponder dressed like Harry Potter would be kinda cute... yeah, she could see where Johanna was comin' from, now.

Ponder wriggled under her frankly interested appraisal. He blushed a little.

"Just a bad dream, then." Leonard said.

"It would appear so, yes." agreed Sheldon.

Ponder sighed. But perhaps better for their sanity if they did not know about the Shadowing Lemma. This creature would note all scientifically, preferably mathematically, trained intelligences in an area. It would start by reducing the best and brightest to a dead hulk bereft of intelligence, then vampirically move on to the second-most intelligent. Lucky for Leonard it had sensed Sheldon nearby. Ponder frowned. Why hadn't it tested him out? Logically, this made Ponder the second-most intelligent male in the vicinity, maybe third-brightest, after Sheldon and Leonard...

"Freaking odd dream, then, Sheldon." observed Penny, helping herself to the scrambled eggs.

"Indeed." Sheldon replied. "I do recall I came out of sleep with some truly exciting new ideas concerning the five-dimensional geometry of a tesseractine structure in n-space. That's a hypercube to you, Penny."

"A hyper-what?" Penny said, bemused but indistinctly.

"Er, think of it like a Tardis, honey." Leonard tried to explain. "A space far bigger on the inside than it apparently seems on the outside."

Penny appeared to grasp this.

"Hey, so you could go into a telephone kiosk and discover you're really in a freakin' great hyper-mall?" she exclaimed. "Some seriously big shopping in the space it takes to put up a phone box? Hey, that's cool! You guys could end up doin' useful things with all this science stuff, after all!"

"Well, I never quite worked out how a guy, size of Superman, could change into the tights and things in a space that small." Leonard mused. "Could be his phone boxes were tesseracts. He needed somewhere to store his Clark Kent clothes, and not have them stolen, while he was out doin' good."

"Hey..." Penny breathed. "Sheldon Cooper! If you've got insights into how to make one of these hypertess cube Tardis telephone kiosks, you get workin' on it, sweetie! Momma wants a really big walk-in wardrobe for her apartment! Loadsa room for shoes!"(1)

Sheldon smiled at her.

"Whilst I naturally deplore your superficiality and the base, shallow, motives for your asking, I am happily in a position to tell you I remembered a great deal of the mathematics that came to me in this dream. After I awoke and Doctor Smith-Rhodes was commendably fast in providing me with a legal pad and pens, I spent most of the rest of the night writing down and codifying all I recalled. Which owing to my eidetic memory, was a lot."

Sheldon frowned, did a double take, and looked at Johanna.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes. I have to ask you. Why were in my room at two in the morning, dressed in very little in the way of actual clothing, but a pair of most incongruous fluffy pink slippers, together with the whole terrifying armoury of weaponry which I am told is your normal garb on your world?"

"Well, I hed no time to put my clothes on." she said. "End clothes ere not es good in a fight es a good mechete. Listen to me, Sheldon. Ponder end I were in the room next door. We could hear you were in distress in your sleep. Es it is not fair to expect Penny to rush to your rescue every time you ewake from a nightmare – end do not forget we know whet thet sounds like – we decided I should come to your aid, should aid be needed. Besides, Penny taught me the words to "Soft Kitty" egainst such an eventuality. The weapons were in case of an intruder. I believe such things ere not unknown in this Celifornia."

Sheldon smiled again.

"In the event there was no necessity, as my mee-maw appeared and made all the bad things go away. And she sang me "Soft Kitty." But I thank you."

"This is freaky." Leonard remarked. "Sheldon's bad dreams don't normally end as well as this. He usually wakes up in a night terror, screams the place down, everyone hears it, and Penny or one of the other girls ends up singing "Soft Kitty" to him to get him to go back to sleep."

Ponder watched Leonard's face as he went into a reflective state. He sighed. It was probably best for everybody's peace of mind if they dismissed events during the night as nothing more than an odd dream, a subjective experience taking place only in Sheldon Cooper's mind. But Leonard Hofstadter was a guy who'd be acclaimed a genius in his own right if Sheldon weren't around. Ponder idly wondered how Leonard put up with that. Being second-best-mind to Sheldon could be bad for a sense of self-esteem, in a world where minds were prized. And Leonard had already identified one common feature in two bad dreams. Would he work out the rest - that the Shadowing Lemma had visited Leonard in sleep and passed over him because it sensed an even better dinner in the restaurant over the hall?  It must have sized me up too. No wonder I woke up suddenly in a sense of foreboding with all my wizard-senses twanging. Thank Io that Sheldon was only a few feet away.

"Hey, Sheldon!" Penny said. "Do you realise, Moonpie, you've worked out how to get yourself out of your own bad dreams without wakin' anyone else up? You just call your old mee-maw and she comes in and does all the comfortin'! Well done, sweetie!"

Sheldon smiled, remembering the good part.

"Yes. I concede that could well be advantageous in the future. Those rather trite dream-therapy books you pick up in the self-help section, alongside "How To Be A Great Actress In Twelve Easy Lessons" and the like, may have some small kernel of truth in them after all!"

Then Amy arrived, having picked up Raj and Lucy.

"Hi, guys. Eaten yet? Plenty of toast and eggs, help yourselves!" Penny called.

The three heard about Sheldon's bad dream as they ate.

"And then, Doctor Smith-Rhodes was in my bedroom, wearing practically nothing but her weapons and a pair of pink fluffy slippers!"

Johanna made an apologetic face to Amy. Amy made a "We've been here before, Bezzie. Nothing to apologise for." face back.

"Sheldon, if anyone else was saying this, Howard for instance, I'd suspect you hadn't woken up and that was still part of the dream..." Raj said. Lucy giggled. "But I had a bloody odd dream myself last night. This vampire-thing was in my room and its wings were Mandelbrot sets, you know, like the computer screensaver you used to get in Windows 2000. It looked at me like it was considering something, then it shook its head, at least I thought that was its head, and vanished. Scared the Hell out of me! And my poor little doggie, my little Cinnamon, she was whining and crying. Something had scared her too!"

"Vampire probably didn't want to eat Indian food." Leonard mused. Raj scowled at him.

"It went, and I prayed to Kali Ma in her aspect of Mother Goddess to call back her vetela, the dark servant who does the will of Kali as Dark Mother." Raj said. "Besides, I reminded her it was Howard who dissed her yesterday and the vetela should have been given better directions! Dude, I even gave my Goddess Howard's address, and asked her not to harm Bernadette, and perhaps Bernadette might come to me, by grace of the Goddess, after her period of widowhood is over..."

Raj babbled to a stop, aware everyone was watching him.

"Well, it was scary." he said, defensively.

Johanna, a woman from a world where the Gods tended to come round in a gang and kick your door in should you be caught in blasphemy, patted Raj kindly on the shoulders.

"It is over now, Rajesh, end it is daylight." she said.

"That's odd." Leonard mused. "Three of us, all saw the same thing in our dreams..."

"But only I got to do the math!" Sheldon said, exultantly. He danced around the apartment.

"How to realise a five-dimensional hypercube in three dimensional space... take that, Schläfli! You belong to the nineteenth century, Elte! Eric W. Weisstein, where are you now? The big name in town is Sheldon L. Cooper! Sheldon and his brain, yeah! Sheldon and his brain, yeah!"

Johanna and Ponder watched, astonished, as Sheldon did a touch-down victory shuffle around the apartment.

"It'll take ages to bring him down." sighed Leonard. "It generally stops once he realises there's a critical error in the math. The last time he confused units in two different measurement systems."

One of the laptops beeped. Penny opened it.

"Oh, hi, Mary! Yes, I'm fine! You're looking good... wanna talk to Sheldon? You can hear him? Yeah. Thinks he's made some great scientific breakthrough. Again. Sheldon? It's your mom!"

"Oh, and this usually shuts him up, too." Leonard observed.

Sheldon reluctantly and sheepishly sidled over to the laptop. He looked, Ponder thought, like an elongated and far more fastidious Nobby Nobbs caught out in some petty criminality by Sam Vimes.

"Hi, mommy." he said, reluctantly.

"Just had some big insight into your Godless science, huh?" the woman's voice said, with studied patience. Her voice had a different sort of American about it: a little like the way Penny's was subtly different to native Celefornians, Johanna thought, but from somewhere still further away in what she was realising was a vast continent. The communication method appeared to be some sort of advanced Clacks with pictures allowing for direct voice contact. And that little eye on the picture box, like a smaller version of the seeing-tube HEX used at the HEM. That was how the picture of Sheldon's mother was being communicated here from an unguessable distance away? And it explained how Mary Cooper must be seeing into her son's apartment?

The slightly sing-song drawl carried on.

"Just you hunker down and remember, Shelley, that Jesus made you bright as you are and the ideas you get come from Jesus for you to use to glorify Him, you hear?"

"Yes, mommy!" Sheldon said, with a sort of whiney patience.

The woman on the screen had a sort of elegant faded attractiveness, even though it was easy to place her in her early fifties. You couldn't hold off age forever, Johanna thought.

"And I'm calling to remind you it's Sunday morning where you are, Shelley. "

"Like you do every Sunday, momma." Sheldon said, rebelliously.

"You're two hours behind Texas where y'all are." she said, patiently. "I'm going to church in half an hour. You promise me you'll go to church this morning and glorify your God who made y'all? Even in Godless California there are churches."

"Which by definition means California isn't godless..."

"Shelley, babyboy, we've been here before. You can't deny your God forever. And y'all got friends round? Rajesh, sweetiepie. See there's a little lady with you there? You go thank God for your good fortune and his gift, hon. The real God, I mean, not the fake ones Satan planted in your country to keep you brown folk from learning about Jesus. And Leonard and Penny, you make a fine couple of God's children there!"

"I'm eternally thankful, Mrs Cooper." Leonard said, with complete and fervent honesty. Penny took his arm and beamed, feeling like something out of a classic American painting. All it needed was a headscarf and a pitchfork.

"And new playmates, Shelley? Do I get introduced?"

"Momma, this is Professor Ponder Stibbons from Norwich University in England.."

"A real pleasure to meet an English gentleman, Professor. Is the "Ponder-Stibbons" thing one of those English names where there's a hyphen? And y'all must go to church? I hear the English are a sorta Episcopalian?"

"I know the Church of England, mrs Cooper." Ponder said, with complete and scrupulous honesty. "A great influence on my life and work. I have the privilege of knowing a priest who is and remains a massive influence on my life. He indeed drew me closer to a personal God."

He crossed his fingers and hoped she wouldn't realise he was talking about Charles Darwin. (3) Or indeed the God of Evolution.

"Ain't that the best thing!" Mary Cooper said. "England being the place where Satan planted that heresy Sheldon and I don't talk about very much."

"Momma! Evolution is true!"

"Still only your opinion, sweetpie." Mary replied, smoothly. "And I still don't see no monkeys evolving to the point where they accept Jesus Christ as their Lord and Saviour".

Johanna came into view.

"And your other new playmate is?"

"Ah. Doctor Johanna Smith-Rhodes. From Witwatersrand in South Africa."

"A pleasure to meet you, honey. South Africa, huh? We got a visiting preacher from your country. He said he left after it got too liberal for him. And some of the things he said about black folk and religion... I mean, I'm open minded and I accept completely that even our black and brown skinned brethren have got souls to be saved for the Lord. Pastor van Reitingshoos didn't seem to think so, though!"

Johanna thought quickly, and put "Kerrigian Reformed Temple of Io and Offler in Rimwards Howondaland" into Roundworld terms.

"I belong to the Dutch Reformed Church of Sed-Effrrrika, Mrs Cooper. I understand thet falls into the Protestant spectrum of Christian churches."

She crossed two fingers. "I ettend services every Oc..Sunday."(4) But Mary Cooper beamed at her.

"Ain't that nice, honey? she said. "Now listen to me, Sheldon. It seems the Lord in His infinite mercy has done put two new god-fearing folk your way, to get you to think seriously about Jesus and this atheism bull-crap you done spouting. You listen to these two new friends, y'all hear? And I gotta go to Church soon, Shelly, but 'fore I go, there's time for you and me to join in a prayer."

Sheldon found everyone else had hemmed him in near the laptop. He had no escape... Johanna and Ponder soon realised the game was to join in with frequent "Amen"'s and "halleluiah!"'s when the prompt called for one. Being used to Discworld religion, they joined in with seemingly fervent gusto. Even Raj joined in the game – to him, he had no objection to adding a version of Christ to the Hindu pantheon.(5) Finally, proclaiming herself satisfied for now, Mary Cooper blessed her son and cut the transmission.

"Parents, huh..." Leonard said, trying to mollify Sheldon, who had gone from elated to moody.

"Dude, tell me about them." Raj added. He had issues with his own. Who also frequently IM'd with video-link.

Lucy, who'd ducked out of sight after the scary Mary had clocked her, re-appeared. She smiled, sheepishly.

"Gets us all that way at first, sweetie." Penny reassured her. "Mary might have a few issues... you know, the religion, her complete hostility to science, the borderline racism, a sprinkling of anti-semitism... but she's OK. Gotta lotta love in her. You want a scary mother, wait till Leonard's visits."

Leonard shuddered. His mother was due another visit to LA, very soon.

"Can I be on your Discworld when that happens?" he asked.

"If it helps, my mother keeps demending to know why I em not yet merried with children." Johanna said. She dreaded letters from home and thanked Offler the clacks had not yet reached Howondaland.

"Sweetie, so does my father." Penny admitted. "Least, to a steady reliable guy in a well-paid good job who stands a good chance of not raisin' his grandchildren on a trailer park."

"He loves Leonard." Raj said, helpfully. He did not add that his parents would scare Lucy into running miles. They'd also counter with another arranged marriage, were they to discover he was dating a white Italian-American girl.

Howard and Bernadette arrived.

"Hi, guys." Leonard said. "You just missed Sheldon's mom."

Howard smiled with relief. Bernadette beamed.

"So I'm spared all the "You Jewish folk are almost there, but you only need to acknowledge Jesus as Messiah."

"I like the way Christianity gives you guys a free pass, but calls my religion a Satanic delusion." Raj said, tartly.

"I'm Roman Catholic, you guys." Bernadette said. "Wrong sort of Christian. That's worst of all, to Mary."

Bernadette sighed. "What's religion like on your Discworld?" she asked.

Ponder sighed. "You'd find it horribly familiar in many respects." he said. "With a few twists all of our very own." Ponder had been raised by aunts. He felt a sudden irrational stab of jealousy that these people actually had mothers to complain about. Johanna, who knew this, took his arm, recognising his change of mood.

"Perheps this is too big a subject for now." she said. "We hev a free day ahead of us all. I would like to know more ebout Roun... Earth. I find myself thinking, this place celled Texas. Is it, perheps, a little old-feshioned? Conservetive in its thought? Forgive me for suspecting it might not be es edvenced es Celifornia?"

This touched a rich vein. Sheldon provided a map of the lower forty-eight, which had Alaska and Hawaii as inset boxes. The native Americans then guided the Discworlders through an ad-hoc tour of the United States, discussing climates, landscapes, history, people, social attitudes, and, Johanna suspected, the occasional prejudices. Somethings called Google Earth and Wikipedia were frequently invoked to arbitrate differences of opinion, and Ponder and Johanna learnt a lot. Often by default. Sheldon and Amy appeared to think flags were very important.

"There is a slug? On Weshington State's netionel flag?" Johanna exclaimed, amused.

"And you all think vexillology is boring." Amy said, smugly.

"State flag, sweetie." Penny corrected her. "Outside of certain states on the Deep South who ain't got over losing the Civil War, America only has one national flag."

"Our Californian state flag has a bear on it." Amy said.

"Thet I would like to see." Johanna said.

There was a hiatus while Sheldon went to his room to get all fifty state flags. He prided himself on having the full set. With updates.

"See what you started?" Howard said, slightly accusingly. "If he asks you to co-host his podcast, just say 'no'".

"Johanna?" Sheldon said, returning. "If it interests you, Amy and I present a regular Internet podcast called "World of Flags". It is very exciting.."

"You could be... an alien from another planet, perhaps, learning about our world through its rich heritage of flags and banners." Amy added, hopefully. "It would be a good presentation device."

Johanna considered the humorous aspect of this. Nobody would believe she was... but no, HEX had advised them to keep a low profile lest people on Roundworld who had a better grasp of reality find out about the Discworld. HEX had hinted that knowledge might already have leaked out on this side and one day sane people, in positions of power, might try to discover more.

"Let us look at your state flegs together, Sheldon." she said. "Perheps each fleg will open a discussion ebout the state it represents, yesno?"

She watched and listened, assimilating new information all the time. She also heard Leonard asking Howard

"Slept well last night? Any bad dreams? Any dreams at all?"

"Nuh-huh." Howard replied. "Slept like a log. Eventually." He grinned at Bernadette. Her eyes narrowed.

"Any reason for asking?"

"Just a freaky idea I had." Leonard said. "Sheldon, Raj and I all dreamt. More like nightmares, really. And they say people who spend a lot of time working and socialising together get sorta linked. Just that something pretty similar appeared in all our dreams."

"What, Doctor Smith-Rhodes dressed in not much more than fluffy pink slippers?" Raj said, dismissively. Johanna coloured.

Howard's mouth opened. He had the sense to be quiet.

"That part was no dream." Sheldon said, impatiently. "I indeed did awake to witness Doctor Smith-Rhodes in my room in the aforementioned fluffy pink slippers, wearing minimal clothing and full weaponry. Now if we can return to flags, please?"

"You guys had a shared dream?" Howard said, incredulously. "And I missed it?"

"No, no!" Leonard said. "The other thing. The element we all saw. The kinda-vampire in black with Mandelbrot-set wings."

"Well, yeah. But Johanna with the minimal clothing..." Howard persisted.

Amy gasped.

"Now you come to mention it... I did indeed witness such an entity in my dream last night. But I was awoken by the lab monkeys screaming in fright."

"My Cinnamon was also extremely frightened." Raj said. "She took some calming."

"It turned and left, as I recall. I gathered I was of no immediate interest to it." Amy continued. "but my monkeys and your dog reacted with fear-responses. Were they merely reacting to increased distress in us, in our sleeping state? Some hormones may be communicated by smell. Dogs and simians both have acute olfactory systems."

"Freaky..." said Leonard.

"I never saw a thing." Bernadette said.

"Please. Can we return to flags, the topic currently in hand?" Sheldon asked, testily.

++That would be a good idea at this point++ HEX said. ++I find the whole area of flags and banners as markers of collective identity among tribes and groups is profitable, for what it can teach concerning the sociological and anthropological make-up of sentient species such as the human race++ Leonard, later on I could perhaps have a private conversation with you?++ For one thing, with limited carrying capacity on the travelling machine, it would be useful if we worked out a schedule for visits to the Discworld. ++I would also like to speak with you about other matters, as Sheldon has somewhat monopolised my run-time recently, and the rest of you are also of interest to me.++

Johanna breathed a sigh of relief. Leonard was by far the most sensible of the four Caltech guys. He'd see the point of not scaring Sheldon witless by his discovering how near he'd come to Death during the night.

"Sure thing, Hex!" Leonard said, flattered by the compliments. And so learning about the complexities of humanity via its flags and emblems continued till lunch. Penny and Bernadette, with a little assistance, turned out a very nice salad.

"Penny," Johanna said, "Is there enywhere near here where a girl might go for a run?" Johanna had appreciated her holiday in California, but nearly four days in, she was realising that if she carried on eating like a Californian and doing less physical work than she was accustomed to on the Discworld, there would be inevitable physical consequences. She already suspected she had put on a pound or two in weight. Barely noticeable, but it could not be allowed to continue. The Guild did not approve of students or staff getting fat. She wondered how Penny and Bernadette avoided obesity the way they did.

"Ah-huh." Penny said, indistinctly. "You bought all that sports gear the other day, hon. You figure it's time to give it a run out?"

"It may be best, ja." Johanna said. "The food here is so much richer than I am eccustomed to. I believe I should perform extra exercise to compensate."

"Shame I can't go with you." Penny said. "But Sunday afternoon at the Cheesecake Factory – good shift. Families usually, so no drunken assholes hassling me. Good tips. Need to be there at one. Hey, sweetie, you come and get changed. I'll show you how the gear goes on, guess you're unfamiliar with it? - and I'll drop you off on the way. Arroyo Seco should be OK for you. Public park, mebbe half an hour's jog away, five minutes in the car, and it's on my way. Easy to get back here from there, too!"

Naturally, Amy insisted on coming over to make light conversation while the girls changed. Johanna speculated the real reason was to be able to watch them change clothes, but she shrugged. Alice Band could be like that too, sometimes. It didn't bother her.

"Freaky dreams you all had last night, huh?" Penny remarked as she got out the garish yellow clothing she had to wear for work.

"Freaky indeed. Sheldon maintains that he knows it was all just a dream, because he interacted with something claiming to be the anthropomorphic personification of Death. Can you believe that?"

Johanna, who could believe that, held her peace.

"The antoppo-what of Death?" asked Penny, not quite getting it.

"Historically, human beings have sought to take some of the fear out of the dying experience by assigning the process of death a personality, a character, if you will." Amy said. "We know death is an impersonal process, an event. Early men sought to placate this inevitability by treating Death as if it were a God, with the human characteristics people project onto their Gods. A thing with a personality may be negotiated with. Interceded with. Placated. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, a leading authority on the human relationship with death and the end of life, notes this goes back to the Bible Witness the Rider on the White Horse who appears in the book of Revelations as one of the four riders of the Ap.."

"Four riders, ah-huh, got that. You OK with that sports bra, sweetie?"

"Ooh, let me help!" Amy squealed. "Anyway, Sheldon claims his Death was the mediaeval character made famous by Ingmar Bergman in the film The Seventh Seal. He was slightly disappointed this Death did not offer to play chess with him. Sheldon considers he is a Grand Master at three-dimensional Star Trek chess and would no doubt have won back his soul... Does that feel good, Johanna? A pleasure, bezzie! Therefore Sheldon pointed out that just as the Ingmar Bergman character with the monastic cowl and the scythe is a personification of the expectations of people in mediaeval Europe, the personification of the expectations of his sort of people in present-day California would have been a perky, pretty, dark-haired teenager Goth chick. Because the Death that appeared was not the afore-described Death who appears in Neil Gaiman's Sandman comic series, who Sheldon justly expects to manifest to him at the moment of cessation of life functions, he could therefore safely assume he was dreaming the experience."

Johanna frowned. The nearest the Discworld got to a perky, pretty, Gothic teenage Death was Susan Sto Helit when she filled in for her grandfather. Ponder had explained it to her. She'd met and liked Susan. She made a mental note to check out this world's fiction, and reasoned that somewhere among her new circle of friends would be the Sandman books. Perhaps a little of Susan Sto Helit had leaked through into the mind of an imaginative artist? Artists, as Mustrum Ridcully had said, were buggers for that sort of thing. And poets.

Johanna pulled on the strange trainers. A shoe designed just to run in. Soft, supportive, incredibly lightweight. She fumbled with the long laces. Amy obligingly knelt down to tie them for her. She sighed, happily. It was like having a personal maid. Johanna was not above exploiting this.

"All set, bezzie!" Amy proclaimed, cheerfully.

"Thenk you." Johanna said, politely. She pulled on the orange, white and blue jogging top she had bought in the mall, from a shop specialising in selling reproduction sportswear of all the Roundworld's nations. They were the national colours of her native Rimwards Howondaland. Here, large black letters on the back said SUID AFRIKA.

For some reason Amy frowned slightly, then shrugged.

"Time to go!" Penny said, having tied back her hair and applied very minimal makeup. Amy assessed her.

"Family service, bezzie?" she asked. "Just enough cleavage for the dads, but not enough to worry the moms. And the "let me be your big sister" look to appeal to the kids."

"Yup!" Penny said. "I got it all scientifically worked out, sweetie. How to optimise my potential revenue in tips!"

She also looked at Johanna's top and frowned, then shook her head.

She'll be OK. Not many people round here know those ain't the current South African national colours. Hell, Sheldon and flags. Some of it lodges.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna took careful note of the twists, turns, and street names between North Los Robles and the public park at Arroyo Seco. There weren't many. American roads were laid out simply and logically. Five minutes later, she was wishing Penny a good day, and starting her fitness regime with a few simple stretches and warm-ups under the Californian sun.

And the scenery is magnificent. Almost like the Drakensberg Mountains at home.

She plugged in the HEX-Ipod and began jogging, a nice steady pace she could pick up when she needed to. Exercise was so good...

++Music, Johanna?++ HEX asked, through the earphones.

"Pley some more of the local music, please, HEX. It hes en egreeeble rhythm end sound to it."

She jogged on, to the tune of "California Girls" by the Beach Boys. It had exactly the right sort of upbeat sunny summertime feel to it. The park was full, although not burstingly so, with people; family groups, dog-walkers, young couples, joggers and exercisers like herself. She found herself exchanging nods and smiles with other runners.

She noticed a seriously intent jogger, a dark-skinned African-American woman possibly in her early forties. What caught her attention was that the woman wore a top that advertised "CALTECH" in large letters. Johanna wondered about striking up a conversation and learning something about the institution she was visiting the next day. Drawing level, she called a cheerful greeting. The woman looked at her and her eyes narrowed, It was not a friendly look.

Ah. Black-skinned American. Here, I am a white-skinned South African. I understand the white South Africans did things that did not make themselves popular with black-skinned people. And I am flaunting my nationality in front of her. Perhaps a diplomatic exit is called for...

Johanna smiled and waved. She received only the barest and most minimal nod that could be called consistent with social politeness. There was no answering smile. Trying not to take it personally, she shrugged and stepped up her pace, pulling away from and in front of the woman. Who could now read the prominent SUID AFRIKA identity on her back. Ah well...

Johanna felt a sudden guilt about the fact Rimwards Howondaland was still an apartheid state and most of its people believed, to a degree, in white racial superiority. The South Africans here, in this time and place, she understood to have moved on from there. She remembered the person she had been before moving to Ankh-Morpork and felt a sudden shame at all she'd had to painfully unlearn.

And this morning, I learnt about the reasons for the American Civil War. About the segregation that followed – from which my own people on this planet got the idea for apartheid - the Jim Crow Laws, the Civil Rights Movement. Black people in this country have reasons of their own to suspect white people are not their best friends.

She ran on, enjoying the afternoon sun and warmth. A male jogger hopefully fell in beside her. Ah. Penny had called this "being hit upon". She had nothing against the man, but did not want the company of anyone, except perhaps HEX. She increased and maintained her speed, knowing she could push it faster if she needed to. After she left him gasping,panting and breathless in her wake, she slackened her pace again.

"HEX?"

++Yes, Johanna?"

"I hed a conversation with Ponder lest night. Ebout how every time the University sends people into the Roundworld to steer it elong the peth dictated by the Prime Directive, things heppen. Auditors. Elves. Horsemen. All seeking to prevent the human race from leaving this plenet. Es they must, so es to escape a ceteclysmic destroying event. Key people on the Roundworld must be nurtured end kept free from herm es without them, the human race loses vital skills for projecting itself into the wider universe."

++A masterful summary, Johanna.++

"Please tell me, HEX. Whet is so special ebout Sheldon Cooper? End Leonard Hofstadter? End Howard Wolowitz? End Raj?"

HEX paused for a suspiciously long time.

++It is not just those four people, Johanna++ Indications from further along the timeline of this incarnation of Roundworld suggests that Penny, Bernadette, Amy and indeed Lucy are also critical components to enabling humans to leave this world in viable numbers and colonise the stars.++

"So you get in, end you menipulate, to ensure the desired future heppens."

++A low blow, Johanna.++ We do not manipulate.++

HEX paused, for a beat.

++Well, only when we need to.++ Wizards created the Roundworld universe.++ We are responsible for its wellbeing.++ We are its Guardians.++ It is vital, as well as ethical, that the human race be allowed exercise of free will.++But some weeks ago, as I monitored alternate Roundworlds, I saw that Malignity would occur on this one.++ Two mornings ago, you intervened when Bernadette was robbed at an ATM.++ Had you not been there, Penny would have sought to defend her friend.++

HEX paused for emphasis.

++Penny would have received fatal stab wounds.++Leonard Hofstadter would have been heartbroken with grief.++He would have left Caltech and retired to live as a single man, never to marry nor father children.++ This is important.++ He would also not have been there to translate Sheldon Cooper's insight into a form with potential practical uses.++ Sheldon is a genius.++ But a flawed genius, in that he would not deign to be anything other than an abstract, theoretical, physicist.++Also, he tends to alienate people.++

"Now there is a surprise." Johanna murmured, feeling the breeze in her hair as she ran.

++This point in time at this Caltech with these people is seminal.++ Six scientific intelligences, specialising in different fields, all of whom have small but highly significant input to make into the science that lifts humanity out of the gravity-well of this planet.++ They have met and become friends.++Two have married, more or less happily++Others will, in time, follow++Cross-fertilisation of ideas is happening.++

"I think I gresp thet, HEX. And whet heppens?"

"I needed to get into this Roundworld to make several small changes and restore the timeline.++Therefore I designed and commissioned the building of the travelling machine.++I chose my two agents with care.++ You ensured nobody was actually killed in the robbery at the ATM.++The Caltech group would have gone for a day out in the country without you or Ponder. ++They would have been robbed of their vehicles. ++ It is possible one or more would have been killed or injured.++Your presence prevented that.++Also, Bernadette, in fifteen years' time, will now not be assaulted and raped by an intruder in her own house.++ Her erstwhile attacker will reason that a petite attractive housewife standing in her own kitchen far from any weapons is no match for a man with a gun.++ Those will be his last thoughts shortly before he dies with a thrown knife through his left eye.++Police will rule she acted in self-defense."

"End I em responsible for teaching her thet skill..." Johanna smiled, pleased. "But. Sheldon. Lest night."

++The threat was very real++ HEX assured her. ++Ponder Stibbons and myself entered the alternative plane of existence where the Shadowing Lemma had laid a trap to catch an intellectual genius and feed on his mind.++Its energies also touched all the other likely candidates who had indirectly had contact with it through ourselves, as things of the Discworld.(6) ++I took a slight risk, yes.++

Johanna digested this.

"HEX... If I were prone to cynicism, I might suspect you knew ell elong thet if an innocent like Sheldon were staked out es bait for a Shedowing Lemma, it would give his mind the necessary incentive to come up with the right meths very quickly. To take thet one lest step into a new concept. I might even think the worst of you end suspect you brought one with you, just to make sure!"

++Johanna!" HEX said, even managing to simulate shock. ++I am hurt you should think such a thing!"

"You said thet a little too quickly, HEX. Do not forget I wes taught ebout politicel theory by Lady T'Malia. End from time to time, I do jobs et the request of Lord Vetinari."

There was silence.

++I did not bring the Lemma.++ Owing to the path we took from the Discworld to this Roundworld, I was aware there was a risk others could follow along the same shadowing curve.++ All I knew was that Sheldon was at risk from a night terror that might prove terminal.++ If left this uncountered, he would have been found the next morning as a dribbling moron with his ability to interact with the world, on any level, completely gone.++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And that's different from normal, exactly?" Leonard Hofstadter asked HEX, with icy un-natural calm.

++Leonard, please understand me. ++You have a right to an explanation."

"It's all a bit hard to take in, HEX. You claim two hundred years from now, give or take a coupla decades, there will be a cataclysmic extinction event. Possibly a meteorite triggering massive seismic instability followed by an Ice Age. Your Prime Directive is to ensure all of humanity leaves the planet in colony ships so as to have a chance to survive on other worlds. And somehow we're key to this? I'm key to this?"

++The eight of you are a significant part of the key, yes.++ HEX said. ++Again, Leonard, I am offering you the opportunity to have your conscious memory of this conversation erased. The underlying imperative will still remain, concerning why your input is vital to the space colony program that will commence in earnest towards the middle of this century.++ A knowledge that what you do is utterly vital will remain and you will be more certain of this than anything else you have ever believed in. ++But you will not know why you know.++

Leonard slumped back. HEX was sustaining two conversations simultaneously, one with Johanna in the park and one here in Leonard's bedroom. To a mind like HEX, this was nothing; like a grandmaster playing two simultaneous chess games rather than thirty.

++You had a meteorite explode in the skies over a Russian city not long ago.++ HEX reminded him. ++That caused only minor damage and a pretty light show.++ What if a truly large one impacts on, for instance New York?++ Or indeed on the volcanic caldera at Yellowstone?++

"And you say if you had not been there. Penny would have been murdered?"

Like Arthur Dent, Leonard Hofstadter reduced the inconceivable down to a level that represented personal tragedy for him.

++Almost inevitably, Leonard.++

Silence. Then

++I'm sorry. But Penny is a vital part too."

"HEX? You know what? Erase my mind, when you're done. But tell me everything first. Why is Penny important?"

Leonard paused, reflecting that had sure come out wrong.

"Err... she's important to me, obviously. Lots of people love her. Even Sheldon. But if I read you correctly, the list of key indispensible people reads, Theoretical physicist. Experimental physicist. Space plumber."

++Howard might prefer the term "astro-engineer", Leonard++

"Yeah. Space plumber. Astrophysicist. Doctor specialising in neurology and brain physiology. Biochemist who can synthesise anything in the pharmocoepia. And then, number seven is - waitress at the Cheesecake Factory and occasional actress?"

++Leonard, you have asked for conscious memory to be erased.++ Which means I can be completely open and candid with you.++

"Please do, HEX."

++Very well++

HEX made a noise that might have been a mechanical clearing of the throat.

++Ready?++

"Ready, HEX!" Leonard said, with some heat. He didn't believe in fortune tellers. But he sensed he was about to hear some hot-damn accurate predictions.

++Really ready?++

"Really ready, HEX!"

++You will marry Penny.++Despite the usual sort of marital misunderstandings, it will be long and happy.++She receives a long-standing role in a TV show that will make her a household name throughout the USA.++You will receive academic tenure.++Not at Caltech, but at Berkeley++

"Berkeley..." Leonard breathed.

++This enables you both to set up a marital home in Los Angeles, near to your friends and contacts at Caltech.++Penny's father will be overjoyed to see three grandsons and a grand-daughter.++None of whom grow up in a house on wheels.++your career is rewarding and happy, but you do not win a Nobel prize.++

"I never really wanted one, HEX."

++Your children are favoured.++ Three of them inherit their father's intellect and their mother's health and good looks. The fourth you will call Sheldon Lee after his god-father.++Who will insist on reading his vows in Klingon,by the way.++Before you retire, you will see a far younger researcher pick up a long-forgotten joint paper you wrote with Sheldon Cooper about the implications of navigation in tesseract space++ Mr Howard Wolowitz will have taken great steps in the practical engineering of the concept and his work will make it almost a reality.++ His great contribution will be in the immense practical task of engineering the colony ships++Spacecraft capable of transporting millions will need a great over-arching vision.++

"Howard's? Come on, you're putting me on!" Leonard demanded.

++Think about it, Leonard.++ Millions of people.++ A journey where the people arriving may well be the descendants of those who set out.++ Somebody has to get the plumbing right.++ And think of what direction they travel in. ++You require a pilot to point them in the right direction.++ An astrophysicist. ++Raj Kooprathali.++ He is now incentivised to look for worlds elsewhere capable of bearing life.++His work too will be notable.++

"Ok. I can buy that. Why Amy?"

++You wish to send millions of people into space?++ Who by necessity will not be as carefully vetted as the original astronauts?++ There are unanswered questions concerning long periods spent in deep space, changes in human neuropathology, and the ability of the human brain and mind to handle this.++Amy will go on to answer many of these questions.++Besides, she and Sheldon will also have children.++

"That's it, HEX." Leonard said, with grim finality. "Bleach my brain. Please?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, HEX." Johanna said. "Heving ensured they live to do so, Penny merries Leonard. Amy merries Sheldon. Bernadette end Howard will hev children. Ell very neat. Ell very romentic. The sort of ending thet readers of romentic novels weep over. While others go into a silent rage thet the wrong people hev merried each other , end it would be so much better, for instence, if Sheldon merried Penny. But whet hes this to do with events in two centuries time?"

++The human race is to go on a voyage of discovery. ++This is uncertain and will take hundreds, maybe thousands, of years. ++Even allowing for our having primed Raj to search for habitable planets around nearby stars., thus making the business less one of firing at random in great but blind hope.++Consider, Johanna. ++The people who board those colony ships will die on the voyage. ++So will their children. ++It may not be until the days of their great-great-great grandchildren that they arrive. ++Space is, if not endless, then vast.++I am working ahead to make the vastness of space less relentless to those who will inevitably feel lost and alone in it.++The peoples inhabiting those colony ships must be strong, healthy and hardy.++ They must also be intelligent. ++There can be no spare mouths. ++The problem is, people with great intelligence are not often physically healthy.++ Regard Sheldon, Howard, Raj and Leonard.++

"I think I perheps see where this is going." Johanna said.

++And people who are in the peak of physical health and fitness do not tend to be intellectual. ++It is advantageous to have both abilities at the optimum in one body. ++Therefore Leonard's genes for superior intellect should combine with Penny's superior genes for health and vitality. ++The smart and the strong. ++And there are perhaps eight generations before The Snowball.++

"Hmmm." said Johanna. She considered a child with Leonard's strength and resilience combined with Penny's ability to comprehend quantum physics. Now there would be a colony vessel.

++Now if you will excuse me, I need to close my conversation with Leonard.+++This will take some run-time.++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All Leonard was left with was a feeling the world was too small for the human race and they had to get off it. Maybe open up the space colonies in Legrange Space that people had talked about for so long. (7) I mean, hell, I'm talking to a computer from another world here. Other worlds exist. I'm going to one soon. I get to go into space without soiling my spacesuit and experiencing 10G or whatever the Hell it was.  And he really, truly, wanted to hug Penny and Bernadette and tell them he loved them so much.

"So. HEX. You really think Penny and I should go first? To your world?"

++Penny has bonded with Johanna. ++They are "bezzies", I believe the term is. ++And you and Ponder are in so many ways alike.++

"Sheldon's gonna bitch. Big time. You know that?"

++Perhaps Sheldon might appreciate a day-trip. How did the song go...++

Hex played a reflective guitar-based ballad, drawn from some online archive or other.

Timothy Leary's dead.
No, no, no, no, He's outside looking in.
Timothy Leary's dead.
No, no, no, no, He's outside looking in.
He'll fly his astral plane,
Takes you trips around the bay,
Brings you back the same day,
Timothy Leary. Timothy Leary.

"Ask Bernadette". Leonard said, getting the reference and grinning. "That's her department."

++But in principle, we take Sheldon on a trip around the bay?++Of his own choosing?++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna came to a more public part of the Arroyo Seco park. She noticed, without surprise, that many placards, trestle-tables, and soapboxes, had been set up here by the sort of people who desperately wanted to be heard. It was all very much like Speakers' Corner at Hide Park. She followed the thought through, and scanned the desultory crowd with apparent disinterest.

Fellow over there under the tree. Too cleanly shaven and closely cropped. Looks more used to wearing uniform. Undercover cop. Or perhaps what Los Angeles has got by analogy to Dark Clerks. Lord Vetinari likes people to be able to speak freely, too. So that he can listen freely.

She paused to a walk and drifted lazily around, listening to scraps of harangue, sometimes scanning the type of publications for sale. She was amused by one speaker – she was sure he'd been in Stuart's comic shop the other morning – insisting that the aliens were here now, walking unseen and undetected among us posing as humans.

"Yeah, sure." somebody said. She smiled and walked on past a religious group calling itself the Reformed Worldwide Church of God. She gathered Satan had cast them out of what was rightly theirs when their church had schismed, and the Ungodly had been awarded the cash and real estate by a Satan-guided court. Temporarily reduced to preaching to the people in the open air so that the Truth could get through, they invited dollar donations...

More Omnians, she thought. She shook her head. Other Christian preachers harangued and thumped Bibles and demanded to be heard.

Be fair, Johanna. It is their Octeday.

And then she heard people with familiar accents. People were even talking in Vondalaans.  She followed the voices. Then she was seen.

"Groete! Hei! Sus! Jongfrau!"

They were not unfriendly voices. She barely heard HEX saying, with alarmed emphasis,

++Johanna!++Not.++ Wise.++Come.++Away!++

But handshakes, backslaps and hugs were happening. Johanna accepted a cold drink from a guy who complimented her in Vond...Afrikaans... on wearing the right national colours.

"New in town?"

"Ja. Arrived Thursday evening on SAA. And you?"

"Been here two years now. We gave it a fair go after Nelson bloody Mandela. Didn't work. We had to leave God's own country."

The word "Mandela" was spat out like a curse. Johanna was vaguely aware this was a native politician who had somehow changed South Africa beyond recognition.

"Ag, be fair, bro. To be as convincing as Mandela, he must be at least part white. No native could do what he did. The fellow must have had a grandmother who was housegirl to a Boer..."

As Johanna looked around, she saw something that was almost like the national flag of her own Rimwards Howondaland.

"...got a taste for bleck tail one day..."

But instead of the two hippopotami symbolising Ankh-Morpork, there was a curious assembly of crossed crosses in red and white on a blue ground. The Sto Kerrigian flag was right,though. Blue, white, red. And the Boor Republik flag in between the strange crosses and the Sto Kerrigian. These three flags in miniature on the central white stripe of three horizontal: orange above, blue below. Symbolising the coming together of emigrants from Ankh-Morpork and Sto Kerrig to make the new Howondalandian colony work. Orange, blue, white. Her national colours. And those of South Africa on this world. She felt a kinship to these people and shook hands, quick hug-kiss with some of the women, and oh to be speaking proper Vondalaans again.

And then the elegant coloured woman in the Caltech sport top was jogging past again. And she recognised Johanna as the person from earlier. And this time a look of real distaste crossed her face.

Recognise the flag, sus?" somebody said to her. She scrutinised it.

A three-legged black cross on a white circle on an orange-red ground.

"A fylfot." she said. "A trefoil, if you will. An old mother-continent idea of the sun-wheel, related to the swastika..."

"De Afrikaaner Broederbund" a voice said, in pride. "Wherever in the world we are exiled, we are brothers!"

"Police here think it's a bleddy hate symbol. Man, can you believe that?"

"This country is too liberal. I hear they had apartheid here, once. Segregation."

Johanna scanned the books for sale. Inwardly she groaned. Polemics in favour of apartheid. The Protocols Of the Elders of Zion, whatever they were. She recognised the Jewish six-pointed star on the cover. Ask Howard? Something called Mein Kampf. Überwaldean. "My struggle". But whose? The cover showed a constipated-looking little man with a weak chin and an absurd fussy moustache. He wore a four-armed version of the ABB fylfot. She moved on, getting a certain suspicion. The absurd little moustache again. He looked like a municipal park-keeper suddenly given absolute power. Magazines and books advocating White Power, Aryan Nation. More cryptic things: an Ulster Vanguard, whatever one of those was, advocating "No Surrender! And "Keep Ulster Protestant!" A reference to a National Front, who used that strange emblem with the crossed crosses over blue.

And then...

Automatically, she linked arms with the others as a piece of music, familiar to her since birth, rang out from hidden speakers.

Uit de blou van onse hemel, uit de diepte van uns see,

oor uns ewige gebergtes, woor de kranse antwoord gee!

"It's the national anthem," she thought. "You just cannot ignore it. It's unthinkable".

Deur ons vêr verlate vlakktes, met die kreun van ossewa,

Ruis die stem van ons geliefde, van ons Land, Suid-Afrika!

"And these people are serious." she thought to herself. "They know the second verse too. All the words."

And as the anthem faded and she was fighting a mighty battle to refuse an invitation to a braii that night ("I would love to, but my American hosts have invited me to dinner. It would be impolite to refuse them. Some other night, yesno?") she turned to say goodbye and saw the elegant black woman again, in a part of the crowd that did not seem sympathetically inclined. Again she glared at Johanna.

Johanna took a different route out. She focused on remembering the route back to 2311 North los Robles, electing to run the five or so miles.

Such a wide well-planned boulevard! Lined with great old trees for shade! These Americans know how to plan a city!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coming up next... the Lucy resolution. Sheldon joyrides the Travelling Machine. This involves a bonus crossover to another popular American sitcom. And possibly Caltech meeting its new visiting research fellows. Johanna will have an uncomfortable interview...

1) It has been noted, in a TVTropes discussion on the internal layout of 2311 North Los Robles, Pasadena, CA, that several researchers have tried to make computer-simulated models of the internal layout of Floor Four. These simulations are based on the copious, consistent, and reproducible, visual evidence given in seven TV seasons of TBBT. So far, nobody has been able to fit everything in. It needs to accommodate the elevator and stairwell, the guys' apartment on one side, Penny's apartment on the other, plus the intervening hall space. It isn't even possible to do this on the normally accomodating Sim City. Current theory, supported by the fact the Heinlein novella And He Built A Crooked House (2)is set in Los Angeles, is suggesting this is a REALLY deeply embedded sci-fi in joke. The guys, and Penny, are living in Heinlein's tesseract apartment house. No wonder the rents are so affordable...

2) About an forward-looking architect who builds an apartment block in Los Angeles (or somewhere in its greater metropolitan area) – which after an earth tremor shifts in space and time and becomes not a cuboid block, but a four-dimensional tesseract. For Discworld fans, think of B.S. Johnson and his wonder of residential living, Empirical Crescent, which has exactly the sort of residental features described in Heinlein's story and which in fact may be linked via time and space... I feel a sequel coming on...

3) Refer to The Science of Discworld 3, in which the science parts discuss evolution and the Discworld parts deal with Unseen University's influence on Charles Darwin – who even visits the Discworld.

4) As a resident house teacher at the Assassins' Guild School, she had to take her girls to compulsory Chapel every Octeday. Resident teachers had no escape here.

5) Many Hindus have no problem with Jesus as one more God in a religion that cheerfully honours thousands. It's probably Brahma's way of evangelizing the ignorant West. When Christians say that one God is a sufficiency, Hindus like Raj tend to get offended.

6) As predicted by Bohr's Law and the associated Copenhagen Interpretation: any two particles that once come into contact will forever carry on influencing each other. Or: make contact with part of the Discworld and other, less welcome, parts will come knocking on your door or materialising in what you think are your dreams.

7) The Legrange Points are the two singularities in nearby three-dimensional time where the gravitational pulls of the Earth and the Moon cancel each other out. In theory we should be able to build entire space cities here and they'll just hang in space not needing more than the occasional nudge of a retro-rocket. Some commentators advocate that the first space colonies should be here, and that the Legrange points should be used for a free launch into space on deeper missions still.

8) Anyone expecting the Moody Blues' follow-up to Nights in White Satin to be equally romantic, dreamy and full of Mantovani strings was, well, wrong. You got  Legend of a Mind, a paean to drug culture pioneer Doctor Timothy Leary, a man whose attitude to biochemistry was even more laid-back and cheerfully relaxed than Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz'. Leary would be a scientific icon known to all the gang – especially Bernadette.

9) Parellel evolution again. The Discworld equivalent was identical except for the two last words. Johanna had had to remind herself to sing "Suid Afrika" and not "Hovondolaand".

This episode's soundtrack:

The Beach Boys, California Girls

Hawkwind, Space is Dark

The Moody Blues, Legend of a Mind

Uit de Blou van onse Hemel - "From the blue of our skies" - the South African national anthem, prior to a change of outlook in 1994. The new anthem is called 'Nkosi Sikele'e I Africa'

Shame I can't compile a podcast to go with these stories...

Chapter 13: The Silver Machine Meanness Calibration

More Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter Thirteen© Chuck Lorré Productions, Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain.

Possible titles (feel free to devise your own: PM me with them? Namechecks will be given)

The Assassin Revelation

the Trans-Temporal Hitler Paradox

The Evaluation of Relative Mean-Ness Whilst Traveling On A Silver Machine Experiment

Serious stuff establishing plot rationale based on the The Science of Discworld series now over and done with, back to the misunderstandings and humorous tales of a meeting between two worlds...

Sunday evening:

Johanna entered the foyer of 2311 North los Robles and bounded up the stairs. She was vaguely aware there was some sort of number-activated lock on the front door that was meant to allow admittance to only those who knew the right code. HEX had finessed that for her.

++I just activated each button in sequence from bottom to top, Johanna.++In an environment where many people need to know the same code, the code will always default to "ridiculously easy".++

"What would heve heppened if thet hed been wrong, HEX?" Johanna asked.

++I would then have activated every button in sequence from top to bottom.++ HEX assured her. ++Human beings are predictably simple in their thought patterns.++

She grinned, and returned to 4a. She paused on the landing.

"HEX. Could you restore this demaged elevator?"

++No, Johanna.++ It is a mechanical device depending on principles of applied mechanical engineering++I understand and could explain the principles involved, but it has no electronic intelligence.++ I am a thinking machine, not an electrical engineer.++Other hands are needed to operate spanners and screwdrivers.++

She let herself into 4a. She could have knocked and waited, but she had been taught how to pick locks. These, she could have picked blindfold. Getting in was more fun this way...

"Hi, Johanna!" Leonard called. "Good run?"

"That door was locked! How did you get in?" demanded Sheldon Cooper.

"Trade skills." she said. "End yes, thenk you, Leonard!"

Then Sheldon saw what she was wearing.

"You wore that?" he demanded.

"Ja. My country's netional colours. There is a problem?"

"Those have not been South African national colours for nearly twenty years now." Sheldon informed her. "I really must correct this inaccuracy."

Johanna was then shown the new South African flag. A part of her went "ugggh".

"This is in the interests of scrupulous accuracy and assisting you in the minuatae of the essential deception you must successfully pull off on our world, so as to deflect attention from the fact you are aliens from another world." Sheldon said. "This new flag was designed to illustrate the fact that in the new South Africa there is equality between all races and tribal groupings..."

There was a little orange in there, she grudgingly conceded. But she privately decided that if her own country ever reformed, it was going to get a better-designed flag.

"It's a mess." she said, flatly. "I em not being racialist, you understend." She thought back to the people she'd met in the park, and shuddered. "But aestheticelly, thet fleg is horrible. A mess. If it's all the same to you, I'll stick with the colours of my nation on my world."

"Sheldon?" Ponder Stibbons said, hurriedly. "I'd leave it, if I were you..."

"I must insist you remove that innacurate garment." Sheldon said.

Johanna paused. A little smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. She decided to humour him. It would be worth it.

"OK." she said, and stripped off the offending garments.

Ponder reddened. Sheldon went a strange colour.

Now in very brief shorts and a minimal sports bra, Johanna smiled back.

"Your home and your house rules, Doctor Cooper. I epologise for causing you discomfort."

"Wow, baby!" Howard Wolowitz said, breathily.

Johanna smiled at Bernadette, who was poised in mid-slap.

"Most of my clothes are in Penny's flet. I understend she is out working. Would you or Amy hev a key? I should also like to use the shower. Is thet ecceptible?"

"Don't let me stop you." Howard said, in a low voice. "Ouch!"

"Right this way, bezzie." Amy said, leaping up. The two girls left together, Johanna taking time to linger and walk out last. She made it clear she was in no hurry.

"Sheldon," Leonard said, with infinite weary patience. "Social Skills 101. Remember? We do not ever ask female visitors to take their clothes off, just because we don't like the colours."

"Seems as good a reason as any to me." Howard reflected. "I just gotta try that sometime. Hey, Bernie, that gal you work with. Leila Al'Medina, When she visits the apartment, can I tell her she's entering a Jewish home and the colors she's wearing ain't kosher? Hey, she wears Lebanese national colors a lot and I count as Israeli... Ouch, that kinda hurt!"

"Practical demonstration, Sheldon. You're lucky that was Johanna and she sorta understands you. A lot of girls might get offended." Bernadette got up and left to go to Penny's. Something in her body language said "annoyed".

There was a silence.

Ponder cautiously said "Sheldon? The design on your shower curtain. I was following through its logic, and it reads like a way of organising all known elements."

"Yes, the periodic table of the elements!" Sheldon replied, looking unaffected by the recent awkwardness. "Chemistry on our world long suspected there was a way of setting out all known elements in a way that visually and practically summed up the relationship between them. There were early attempts, such as Aristotle's theory of the four conceptualised elements and much later, Henning Brand's late-mediaeval attempts to fit the known elements into a table that had more to do with the pseudoscience of alchemy rather than the scientific discipline of chemistry..."

"See what you've started, Ponder?" Howard whispered.

"Cut to the chase, Sheldon." said Leonard.

"But I've only just started! Lavoisier..."

"Skip straight to Mendeleyev. Please?" Leonard requested.

"Hmmph. Very well, then. Although without expounding on Lavoisier's distinction between metal and non-metal elements, or indeed the work of Jöns-Jakob Berzelius in terms of atomic weight and Johannes Döberiner in terms of atomic number, any exposition of the periodic table as we know it now will make no sense!"

Sheldon eventually got round to Mendeleyev, and a lively discussion began.

"So from this point on you get the new clear elements." Ponder said, thoughtfully. "I recognise "U" for Uselessium.."

"Uselessium?" Leonard asked.

"Uselessium. Our alchemists discovered that but haven't found any conceivable use for it yet. Hence the name. This one a few places further along. "Pu". I'm guessing that's what our alchemy calls "Gaspodium"."

"Errr... that's "uranium" and "plutonium", Ponder." Leonard said. "How come "Gaspodium"?"

"Well, the alchemist who first realised he had something even heavier and more useless than "uselessium" was at first going to call it "evenmoreuselessium". Ponder explained. "Then he saw this scruffy little dog sniffing around the back door of the lab begging for snacks. The dog was called Gaspode. He got the idea to name it after the dog. Especially after people realised Gaspodium put out some sort of totally odourless but potent smell that killed people. And the dog did whiff a bit. Errr..."

"You'll need to know our planet's words for things, Ponder." Howard said. "And basic nuclear physics. Else you'll stand out. Better take him through it all, guys!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bernadette took a deep breath.

"Honey, that was a white supremacist rally." she explained, patiently. "Unpleasant crazy nutjobs who believe white people are superior. and black people - and Jews - are lower-life. We just, you know, don't go there! Police see you hanging with them, they can deport you as an undesirable alien!"

"Ah. Ja." Johanna said, as she selected fresh clothes to wear. "Is this underwear as comfortable as it looks? Thenk you."

She recalled the obvious undercover policeman who had been watching. And where there had been one, there were likely to have been others, harder to spot.

"Fastens in back, hon." Bernadette said. "Always awkward when you aren't used to it...A my, I think she can manage?"

Johanna accepted the maid service.

"It wes a lesson." she sighed. "I should know from the city where I live. Just because people you meet are from your homeland end speak your lenguage end follow customs such es the braii, it does not mean they ere necessarily nice or pleasant fellows."

Bernadette was sympathetic.

"Sure. If I was in a foreign country and met other Americans I could speak English to and talk about home with, I'd be tempted too. Even when they brought out the Klan robes, and set fire to a cross."

Johanna had recently seen literature about a Klan who dressed all in white and liked setting fire to cruciform things. This brought back a memory as she contemplated what looked like hideously insubstantial pants. That Roundworld women wore these had both appalled and fascinated. But she had to admit they were practical and comfortable.

"Other way round, bezzie.(1)" Amy said. Johanna awkwardly shifted in mid-knicker so she was facing Amy and felt less vulnerable bending over in the necessary hunched crouch. There were limits even to maid service.

"Amy, Bernadette? A face thet kept repeating wes of somebody these people seemed to reverence es a great leader, elmost a God. Let me decribe him. En ebsurd, retty little man with a bad haircut. Looked constipated. In my world, we hev en officious little man with such a moustache who is a park-keeper. The man looked like a perk-keeper who sudenly finds himself in cherge of a great nation. End hed been driven insane by it."

Comprehension was beginning to dawn on the two Earth women.

"This silly ebsurd-looking man with the silly moustache wrote a book. Mein Kampf, "My Struggle"."

Bernadette took a deep breath. Even Amy frowned.

"That's Hitler, honey." she said. "You've never ever heard of Hitler? Oh my..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder was a quick and bright student. From the sort of generally vague knowledge-base most people have concerning radioactive metals – that if you have enough of them to be able to bang two lumps together, you get a bigger bang than might reasonably be expected – he passed through the chemistry and physical chemistry of nuclear fission and half-lives with flying colours. Even Sheldon was slightly impressed.

"Your world knows nothing about nuclear physics?" Sheldon exclaimed. He sounded disappointed.

"We know enough, I suppose." Ponder admitted. "Leonard of Quirm worked out that you can refine an explosive metal and you could use it for really big civil engineering work, like for instance moving a mountain. Leonard speculated that it might be very useful for peaceable and productive undetakings designed to foster peace and trust between nations."

There was silence as the Caltech gang worked this one out. Raj sniggered.

"My country, India, and its neighbour Pakistan have nukes." he said. "Maybe one day we can foster peace and understanding between our nations. Until then, it's bring it on, you Pakistani bahnchuts!" (3)

Ponder mentally filed the untranslated word in a pigeon-hole alongside some of the more colourful Vondalaans phrases that Johanna only used when seriously annoyed or provoked beyond reason. Her language had quite a lot of them, of varying intensity. But she described this as "dropping the V-grenade", the V standing for "voetsaak!"(4) The moment V-weapons were deployed, you dived for a shelter. Ponder deduced that when two countries with past form share a common border and dispute a few bits of it, and are of mutually exclusive religions and cultures, and share a pretty much common language so that everyone knows when they're being insulted, and then both sides develop nuclear weapons...

A horrible vision popped up unbidden, of Borogravia and Zlobenia with nuclear weapons.

"And HR want to see you about that little difference of academic opinion with Doctor Ahmed?" Howard said, slyly.

"Well, that bloody Pakistani started it!" Raj said, hotly.

"Funny." said Sheldon. "My recollection is that Doctor Ali Mohammed Ahmed seems to believe you started it!" Sheldon offered.

"Indian-Pakistani international relations in a nutshell." said Leonard. "But what gets me is that when you two guys go to see cricket matches, you get on OK?"

"Well, cricket is a civilising influence." Raj muttered. "Even for Pakistanis. One of the few good things the bloody British ever did for us!" (5)

Sheldon snorted and objected."But, in the Hitch-Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy continuum, for which, by the way, I shall use the abbreviation haitch-two-gee-two for convenience, the planet Krikket inflicted the bloodiest, longest, and most devastating , intergalactic war known to sentient-kind, using white-clad robots looking not unlike players of that extremely impenetrable and obscure sport. Indeed, the reason why all right-thinking races shunned the obscure backwater planet Earth for so long is because a race called the British were so monumentally insensitive as to perpetuate memory of the Krikket Wars via the medium of a complex and impenetrable game!"(6 )

++We have a sport very like that on the Discworld++ HEX offered. ++I do not pretend to fully comprehend the rules.++ Doctor Cooper, Doctor Hofstadter, I have been following your explanation with interest.++It is very full and informative.++But may I ask a few questions?++

Sheldon preened at the thought he was enlightening an alien super-intelligence.

"I should be delighted, HEX. Please feel free!"

++Thank you, Doctor Cooper++Your exposition concerning the physics of nuclear chemistry was exemplary.++But if I may, I have been acquainting myself with current research and would like to inquire about apparent anomalies. Such as those raised by Professor Jhianga of Beihang University concerning anomalous observations in ultrafast processes during nuclear reactions, which are contra-indicative to the results expected according to orthodox theory.++There is also Paluk's research into reactions involving isotopes of water, such as deuterium.++And of course the lingering controversy concerning cold fusion.++

Sheldon's mouth opened and closed. Leonard noticed this and did not conceal his grin.

++I was browsing published research papers lodged in the library of Cornell University and ranking them in order of relevance to this discussion.++ Hex added, helpfully.( 7 )

"Oh. Cold fusion." Sheldon said, dismissively. "Not entirely helpful to the discussion, HEX."

Leonard, who had a passing familiarity with fellow experimental physicists Jhianga and Paluk, decided to let Sheldon flounder for a while. It would be fun.

And then the girls returned. Johanna, now dressed in casual-but-eyecatching clothing, looked like a thunderstorm. Ponder tensed. Somebody was going to get soaked, struck by lightning and deafened by thunder as a courtesy detail. He hoped it wasn't going to be him.

"HEX." Johanna demanded. "Tell me ebout somebody called Edolf Hitler. Right now!"

The thinking engine switched gear. Ponder realised with even greater speed than normal.

++Adolf Hitler.++ European political leader and statesman.++Born in Branau-am-Inn, Austria, on the 20th April 1889 by the consensus calendar++Alternatively Heidler, Schicklgruber, or other variant family names.++

"Statesman." Howard said, with uncharacteristic bitterness. "Yeah, right."

Ponder remembered that Assassins were generally not allowed access to Roundworld history after about 1600. Gonnes, and the risk of another warped Assassin intelligence replicating the technology, were a deciding factor. Johanna had been content to go along with this restriction. Her interest in the Roundworld was not a human or political one; wildlife and its habits were broadly the same before 1600 AD as after. Her knowledge was necessarily sketchy.

As HEX sketched out a summary of European history between 1889 and 1945, played out through one of its architects, Johanna's face became harder and stonier.

"There is no Guild of Essessins on this world, then." she said. "Left to us, we would hev inhumed this creature far sooner."

"I don't have any relatives in Europe any more." Howard said. "That's not a small thing." He was not inclined to make any snarky digs or little inappropriate jokes, Ponder noted.

"Me too." Bernadette said. "Rostenkowski is a Polish name."

HEX had borrowed a computer and was playing silent images. A bombed and shattered city. A stack of unbelievably emaciated corpses. A victorious Red Army entering a destroyed Berlin. Massive fighting machines standing burnt and broken. Strange machines in the sky whose bellies opened and cascaded elongated eggs. The explosions when those eggs hit the ground. And finally...

++The great war saw the pinnacle of new clear technology.++

A mushroom cloud, and still photos of a Japanese city. Or what had once been a Japanese city.

++This is one reason why Lord Vetinari strictly banned new clear reasearch in his city.++Other Discworld leaders were privately shown what happened at Hiroshima.++ Under the influence of arguments advanced by Havelock Vetinari and Lady Margolotta, an informal agreement was made between our world's leaders that our world will not go this way.++And later events at Windscale, Three Mile Island, Chernobyl and Fukushima are known to decision-makers on our world.++We will not use new clear power for admittedly civil purposes, either.++The risks are too great and our Disc too thin.++

Johanna, who had once (for professional reasons) wanted to see what happened if Leonard of Quirm's explosive metal bomb were detonated, now realised. You needed to have a lot of extreme prejudice to want to inhume an entire city all in one go. And extreme prejudice only applied when the client either wanted to make a very emphatic statement indeed, or else the target was really vilified and hated.

She looked, with horror and compassion, at the sort of people who had survived Hiroshima.

"HEX? I hev seen enough. Thenk you."

She paused.

"Er... the Assassin thing again?" said Bernadette. "That's sort of... associated with people who kill people. Usually for money?"

"The Hiroshima thing?" Johanna replied. "Developed, plenned, paid for et vest cost, end employed es a weapon, by Emericans?"

Bernadette was silent.

"Fair comment." she said, eventually.

"Ja. Fair comment on your part also. I em a fully trained Essessin."

It was good to get it out in the open.

"Why am I not surprised?" Sheldon commented. "This interests me."

"I'm glad, Sheldon. It scares the living crap out of me." said Howard. Uneasily, he totalled up all the recent occasions where he might have given offence to Johanna. Penny had stopped at breaking his nose.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes." Sheldon said. "Tell me about being an Assassin! Does an Assassin's Creed govern what you do? How is your Guild organised? Who do you target for Assassination and why? Oh, this will be so useful for playing the game!"

Leonard winced.

"Sheldon. This isn't just a computer game. It's for real!" he said, urgently.

"We hev a creed, ja. It is called the Concordat." she said. "Please provide drinks. I will talk ebout this."

Bernadette hurried to the kitchen area.

"Our creed sums up in four words. You are literate people end you understand Latatian, ja? Listen to me. Nil mortifi sine lucre. Thet is our creed. Everything else stems from thet."

Lips moved silently as intellects used to dealing with at least some Latin attempted to translate.

"That explains all the weapons." Amy said. "Please talk about your profession, Johanna. I will attempt not to make judgements. Or silly comments. Howard."

"Thenk you. To begin with. Yes. I hev killed people in return for money."

"But that doesn't make you a bad person, right?" Howard said.

Johanna smiled at him, excusing his nervousness.

"Exectly correct, Howard. We use euphemisms to avoid the word "killing". The most commonly eccepted one is "inhumation". Colleagues elso employ descriptive terms such es "sterilization". Deadheading. Belancing the ledger. Cleaning out the gene pool. The ruler of our city, Lord Vetinari, is a greduate Essessin end a Guild member. The Guild operates in a way consistent with our city. There is elways killing. Most of the time this is rendom, messy, untrained, end is the work of the police force to detect end bring senction. For a city to run efficiently there must be some basic irreducible end commonly eccepted rule of law. But the reasons for some inhumation will be political. Or expedient. Or for other reasons than raw passion. My Guild operates within the law enforced by Lord Vetinari. This ellows for inhumation to take place within strict legal limits. Es long es money is involved. Es long es a contrect exists. Es long es a Guild of Essessins member cerries out the inhumation. Then it is legal."

Johanna was holding her audience. She went on.

"Our Guild School – where I teach – takes pupils between the ages of eleven end eighteen. Between the ages of eleven end ebout fifteen, education is more-or-less the general education most children of thet age cen reasonably expect to get. But et ell times, the focus is on whet thet child may choose es a career option when he or she reaches fourteen or fifteen. Whet you would in this country term the ninth grade is also significant for us. Et the end of this year, just es en Emerican student might prepare to move from middle to high school, our students may choose to conclude their formal education there. They may move to work, training for work, or other schools. Those thet remain ere the ones who Take Bleck. The dedicated ones. The ones who wish to become fully quelified greduate Essessins. For three years, their training is then wholly focused on the skills end disciplines of the profession."

"Some High School, huh?" Leonard reflected. He wondered about the forms bullying and hazing took in an Assassins' School. He shuddered.

"Indeed, Leonard. We celculate that for every thirty pupils who commence in the first form – thet is, whet you call the fifth or sixth grade - no more than ten or twelve will Take Bleck four years later. Of those ten or twelve, perheps no more than six or seven will greduate. Often less."

Bernadette nervously raised a finger. Johanna nodded, as if taking a class.

"Johanna? What happens... you know... to the kids who flunk out? I guess we're not just talking being kicked out by the Principal, right?"

"I see whet you ere thinking, Bernadette. But we do not set out to ectively kill our pupils. Nor do we ellow them to kill each other. This is en erroneous perception. We ellow it to be suspected of us, es it gives the School an etmosphere of sinister mystery. The myth persists outside the gates thet we hev very competitive exeminations end people who fail ere discreetly cerried out in coffins. This is untrue. But in reality, it is highly physical end cerries risk. A pupil may be injured during training to the point where they hev to leave the School, which is regretteble. Very, very rarely, a pupil may die. In these cases we eccept liability end pay for medical expenses end appropriate compensation. We ere not uncaring people to our own. Sometimes a pupil on the Bleck reflects on their vocation and esks to leave. We permit this most of the time. Sometimes a pupil is simply not end never will be good enough to qualify. Or is caught in very serious breach of school rules end is expelled."

"But only a handful of the very best and brightest are still standing at the end to attend the student prom." Sheldon said.

"Ja. And if we greduate, perheps, a hundred end twenty people a year from the School, we find thet perheps ninety of those will never inhume once. Even though they are licenced to do so. For many intelligent end edventerous young people, the chellenge of greduating es en Essessin is enough. Of the few who remain, many will take on one, perheps two, contrects in their lives. Payment is extremely good by Disc stenderds, end two contrect fees hev the potential to set a person up for life. End of course, it is eccepted thet the client hes a right to fight beck, or to defend themselves. Some greduates, sedly, do not succeed in their first ettempt. Despite ell we teach them."

She shook her head, sadly.

"They get over-confident, believing thet greduation alone ensures success. They ere wrong. Over-confidence is en ongoing problem. Even I get it sometimes. Earlier today I thought a group of people who spoke my lenguage, followed recognisable customs, end who made me a little homesick, would be congenial company. Whet cen I sey? HEX warned me but I did not listen. I discovered they were..." she winced. Took a deep breath. "Racist. Haters of bleck-skinned people. White supremacist. Hitler-worshippers. Nazis. I should heve known better. Many of my own people are not nice to know, for similar reasons."

++I never met a nice South African++And that's not bloody surprising, man...++

"HEX. I know thet tune." she warned.

++I apologise, Johanna.++Please allow me a sense of humour++.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up." Howard said, with surprising sensitivity. "I saw the look on your face when HEX showed you Auschwitz. That wasn't a Nazi look. You're no Ilse Koch." (8)

"Whatever you are, you are not a sociopathic cold killer." Amy said. "I have seen and read up on pyschopathy. And I personally like you, new bezzie!"

Thenk you."

"Hey, we're bezzies! And I have access to a CAT scanner. Please can I study your brain?"

There was a moment of confusion. As thoughts of Igorinas and Anirogis with the tools of their trade crossed her mind, along with images of a stone slab with restraining cuffs at each corner, Leonard assured her that a CAT scan was a non-invasive method of reading what was going on in a person's brain. It couldn't read thoughts but it could isolate which regions showed most activity during particular processes.

"Then I will heppily give you some time, Amy." Johanna said. Amy grinned and punched the air.

"The process you describe under the professional appellation of inhumation?" Sheldon prompted her.

"Ja. Inhumation. The Concordat says this most only be for money end eny human reactions should be dispassionate end secondary. This hes been the case for much of the history of the Guild. But recently, the Guild ceased to be a brotherhood. Women and girls were edmitted to study. I em one of the first four women to officially greduate from the Guild School. Efter greduation, I end the three other members of our little Sorority made a pect. Bernadette would term it a "pinky-swear." We vowed thet eny inhumations we cerried out would hev a purpose. We would honour the Concordat end eccept contrects for money. But we would only eccept contrects on men – end sometimes other women – whose pessing would make our Discworld a little bit cleaner for their leaving it. My friend Joan will only inhume men who are known rapists, beaters of women, ebusers of children, sedistic sexual perverts, for instence. This is her reason for inhumation. The client mey just went to eliminate a business rival, or take revenge by proxy. Joan will not give a stuff ebout this. But she will inhume without mercy if he has sexually forced a child, for instence. My friend Alice Band hunted down end inhumed a serial killer who the Wetch could not reach. The moment a contrect wes offered, she went efter him, end concluded him.

"I myself, my own lest ective contrect was for a.. man.. who wes using his wealth end power to draw an ermy to him so es to take over a country. Lord Vetinari end Lady Margolotta wished him removed from play for political reasons. I belanced one person's death egainst the inevitable deaths of thousands, end the disruption even a small war could cause. I know war. I hev fought in one. I hev seen whet it does end whet it turns people into. I took an essistent with me. We concluded the inhumation. There wes no war, end the people this would-be warlord was gethering to himself drifted away. For this, I hev no guilt." (9)

She drank some beer. It was surprisingly good.

"We are the Essessins. Providing a Nemesis."

She drank again. "End it paid well. I em now independently wealthy with some good investments. Many Essessins come from established wealthy femilies end scorn trade end commerce. They are fools. The investments end essociated income enable me to do whet I love, to work with enimels end to communicate my knowledge to others. But I spoke of an essistant. She is one of the Sisterhood. Young, intelligent, girls who we hev trained to greduation. To whom we hev taught our philosophy of ethical essessination. So far, the male leadership of the Guild hes not caught on to the fect we are changing the profession in ways they cennot yet imagine. Thet is elso good! "

"Yeah. You have to treat the administration on the need-to-know principle!" Leonard agreed. "Most of the time, they just don't need to know!"

Johanna laughed.

"I like thet, Leonard. May I use it? Thenk you."

Bernadette was first to give Johanna an accepting hug. Amy joined in.

"This means much to me. I thenk you." she said, sincerely.

"And I thank you, Doctor Smith-Rhodes." Sheldon Cooper said, with transparent sincerity. "Thanks to you, I believe I now have the key to get to the next level of Assassin's Creed. If you will excuse me..."

"Go knock yourself out, Sheldon." Leonard said, very patiently, in the holding-breath silence.

"No. it is elright. Some Guild members view it ell es a great game. It is a point of view. I em not offended." Johanna said. She contemplated an empty bottle. Then said, in good Californian,

"Hey, I'm runnin' on fumes here. Beer me!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny returned from work, asking if she'd missed anything. She had collected Lucy on the way, who had brought the tools of her trade with her.

"Well..." Leonard said.

"Not a lot." Howard reassured her. "Johanna nearly got her first strike from Sheldon."

"What took you so long, Sweetie?" Penny inquired.

"Sheldon objected to the clothing she was wearing." Amy said, poker-faced. "She apologised, and then removed the offending garments."

Penny blinked, and then a long slow smile spread across her face.

"Man. I'd have just loved to have seen that."

Amy smiled an even wider smile.

"I did." she said, happily.

"So did we." Howard added. His smile evoked cats and cream.

"Poor Moonpie." Penny remarked. She crossed the room to where Sheldon was hunched at his computer, headphones on, totally engrossed in Assassins' Creed. She ruffled his hair, making him jump. "Sometimes you get exactly what you ask for, huh?"

"Penny!" Sheldon protested.

Johanna returned from the bathroom and looked dispassionately over Sheldon's shoulder, working out the game mechanics.

"Break defence. Counter. End if I were you, I'd use the stiletto." she advised, in the irritating manner of people who look over other people's shoulders while people are playing computer games. Sheldon sighed.

"I can see I'm not going to get very far tonight!" he said, grumpily.

"Sheldon. You're being advised by a professional Assassin, for goodness sake!" Leonard burst out. There was a moment's silence. Penny looked at Johanna.

"Professional Assassin, huh?" Penny said. "I remember something you said over at Auburn yesterday."

Johanna nodded.

"Yes. And you missed Doctor Smith-Rhodes telling us all about it." Sheldon said, conversationally. Penny was impassive. She thought for a second or two.

"Guess that explains the hardware. And the fighting skills. You know what? I'm glad you're fighting on our team, sweetie. We all gotta earn a dollar." Penny and Johanna hugged and kissed.

++If you are no longer in a mood to play computer games at present, Sheldon, may I offer you an alternative?++ HEX inquired.++I have had to recalibrate the travelling machine to ensure its full and safe functions.++A routine update, if you will.++It requires rebooting.++Would you like to accompany Professor Stibbons on a brief journey?++Name your destination.++

Sheldon leapt up, quivering with sudden excitement.

"Can I? Really? Oh, oh, oh! This is so exciting! So many possibilities. The patent office in Zurich in 1912? To visit the very apple tree in the English orchard where Sir Isaac Newton had his great insight? Even here in Caltech, twenty years ago, when Stephen Hawking was a research and teaching fellow for an all-too-brief time?"

Sheldon leapt onto one of the front seats of the Machine. He looked like a toddler wanting his mother to put a few dimes into the slot that operated the toy car in the mall.

"What does this do..."

He ran his fingers over the dashboard at just the moment HEX powered up the machine.

++I most earnestly advise against that, Doctor Cooper.++ Do not touch anything.++ I will lay in a course++

The machine started to shimmer and vibrate. Electric-blue light emanated from no apparent power source. Sheldon excitedly touched another part of the console. Part of the machine started to wink out of existence.

"SHELDON! NO!" Penny screamed. She leapt forward to try and restrain him, landing awkwardly in the other seat and trying to pull Sheldon's fingers away from the console controls. A dial flickered on. Everything about the machine glowed silver and the sound intensified to a noise like a roaring wind punctuated with regular rhythmic rumbles.

++Oh, shit.++ HEX said.

And then travelling machine, Sheldon, Penny and the earthly presence of HEX were gone, off riding a sine-wave electrical line through Time and Space. For the moment, their only means of returning had vanished, destination unknown and unreachable.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1) Gratuitous joke: Q)Why do Essex girls buy their knickers from C&A? A) So they know which way round to wear them. Overseas readers: substitute local euphemism for extremely dim people, or derogatised region of your native country, for "Essex".(2)

2) People who actually are from Essex: sorry. It isn't personal and I don't want to lose any readers. I know "thick" and "dim" are randomly distributed around the British Isles and the bottom piece of East Anglia/top right hand corner of Greater London is unfairly stigmatised. But that's the way it is, I'm afraid. "Essex" is shorthand for a particular frame of mind. Even if you don't need to be from Chelmsford or Chigwell to be it. Think trolls and lampwick jokes. Or Glaswegians and Highlanders. Irish people and County Kerry. Americans and Polish-Americans. French people and people from Belgium. It's universal.

3) Apologies to readers from India, Pakistan and Urdu/Hindi/Punjabi speakers. To the rest of you: this is fighting talk. Never use this word unless you mean it; it's a berserk button and means something a lot less than flattering. Indian and Pakistani people all understand the word; not so much separated by a common language, as in a position where the recipient of the insult knows perfectly well what that fatherless Indian bastard/ uncultured bloody Pakistani has just said.

4) Afrikaans. This is an imperative verb formation, though, inviting your listener to urgently undertake a non-transitive action. As opposed to the previous example, which this linguist understands is adjective- plus- noun, ie a description. Also an invitation to violence in a nation where body language can get quite deafening.

5) Raj would almost inevitably have attended the sort of fearsomely high-achieving boys-only schools modelled on the British public school system. Where there is ferocious competition even to get in, nineteen out of every twenty applicants fail the entrance exam, and whose graduates then go on to prestigious universities – again against fierce competition – also modelled on British universities. (Oxford and Cambridge, anyway). On the way he would have benefited from a road and rail infrastructure, a government modelled on British parliamentary, legal, and civil service principles, First World standard water and sanitation (at least for the richer parts of main Indian cities, which like New Delhi were heavily influenced by British examples), and a national addiction to cricket that even bridges the India-Pakistan divide... apart from these, what did the bloody British ever do for India?

6) Douglas Adams, Life, the Universe, and Everything.

7) So was I. Helpful hint: just read the summary bit at the start to get a general idea. This is often called the "Janet and John" page. In British civil service parlance, this is the idiot-level explanation to allow non-trained people, such as politicians (or university funding decision-makers), to grasp the essentials quickly. American readers: think Fun with Dick and Jane.

8) Ilse Koch: A woman who shocked a world that didn't think it had much more capacity for being shocked. Her presence at the Nuremburg War Crimes trials was an unwelcome demonstration that given equal opportunity, a woman could be the equal of any man in terms of brutality, sadism, and inventive cruelty. She was a concentration camp guard feared by women prisoners for the delight she took in devising new ways to inflict pain and suffering. She was hanged in 1946 for multiple murders.

9) Actually it was for a vampire. See my storyThe Discworld Tarot: The Sun. Note neither Ponder nor Johanna have yet said very much about vampires. Although they have assured the Caltech gang that dwarfs and werewolves are part of everyday normal Discworld life.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This episode's soundtrack:

The Eagles: Journey of the Sourcerer. A quirky and out-of-character instrumental that might otherwise have remained obscure, until a BBC scriptwriter called Douglas Neil Adams (previously semi-famous among a dedicated fan-base for his script work on Dr Who) thought it had the right qualities of strangeness and weirdness to be the theme music for what (he thought) was only going to be six episodes of a soon-to-be-forgotten quirky radio sci-fi comedy. No doubt the Eagles are grateful for continued assured royalties.

Spitting Image: The South African Song. Because some jokes are too good not to repeat.

Marillion: Assassin.

Hawkwind: Silver Machine.

Shame I can't compile a podcast to go with these stories...

Chapter 14: The Trillian As Waitress Counterfactual

More Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter Thirteen© Chuck Lorré Productions, with a necessary nod to CBS/"Here's Lunch!" productions, to Douglas Neil Adams, to Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain. Welcome to a multidirectional hyper-crossover for just this one episode.

Possible titles (feel free to devise your own: PM me with them? Namechecks will be given)

The Alienation at 3,065 Parsecs Quantification

(Clue: Mick Jagger as astrophysicist)

The Trillian As Waitress Counterfactual

this is your author speaking! Thank you for the reviews, much appreciated. As I seem to be on a roll with this one, may I say there is NOW AN OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK to this fic? (1)

FF won't let me post a link - rats. But go to You-Tube, u-Tube, et c, and look for my other identity of Pragmatist23. There is a playlist of all songs (so far) that directly or indirectly get referenced here. You may like at least SOME of them.

and "Soft Kitty" is in there too, performed by Kaley Cuoco (Penny). Thank you( OK, so she got married. I hear the crackle of breaking hearts all around me. Sorry, can't help that, but you know, guys, there's a whole sub-infinity of alternate universes where she's still single. Or, for those of an Alice Band temperament, single and gay. You're likely to be in those too. Kaley Cuoco-Sweeting it is, then.)

Prologue:

Aboard the International Space Station:

Astronaut Mike Massimo looked idly out of a cabin window and regarded a deep space punctuated with random pinpoints of steady light. A big, bluff and self-confident man in peak physical condition, he was rarely given to introspection. But here on the opposite side to the windows currently overlooking Earth, he looked out into deep space, trying to dismiss an uneasy feeling that something out there was looking back. A motion, a speck, a mere flicker, made him look out to a point in space towards the constellation of Orion. He blinked, eliminating the possibility it was a floater in his corneal fluid or some sort of after-image in his retina. Had Orion's sword-belt suddenly spouted a fourth star? He watched for some time, wondering to alert Earth and ask if any land-based observatory was picking up a new nova. Or supernova? Then, discounting the idea of a distant star committing stellar suicide, he called for Dimitri, feeling like an utter Fruit Loop for doing so.

Lynwood, Long Island, New York.

A young-ish married couple were sitting on the couch in their living room. It was an unremarkable suburban American home almost at the neck of Long Island, where houses were still just about affordable to a guy making above-average pay. Go West and you were back in the City. Anywhere further West than Queens– forget it. Go East and you ended up in big-money real estate until you got to the Point. Lynwood was about as far into the Island as these folks could afford, and even then his father had been uncharacteristically generous.

Let us focus on the wife. She is casually dressed in a yellow wool overshirt, the sort the English call a cardigan, over a white tee. In her middle thirties, she is strikingly attractive, with well-formed features and lustrous almost black hair. If it wasn't for the fact the daily attrition shows in her face – of being homemaker Mom to three demanding kids, and to an erratic husband who is probably the biggest kid of them all – she would be insanely beautiful. And there were other reasons too.

She leaned back and sighed, enjoying a moment of closeness to her husband, who for all the things that make her hair gray ahead of time, is the guy she actually chose to marry. To the former Ms. Whelan, this is important.

She was reminiscing about a recent family holiday in Italy.

"Wouldn't be nice, if we could hold onto that feeling of just enjoying every day?" she asked, leaning closer to him.

Why don't we just go upstairs and enjoy the rest of today?" he replied, hopefully.

Regard the husband. Tall, but by no means the tallest in his family. He is casually dressed in an unbuttoned and untucked blue overshirt over a blue tee. A randomly selected panel of female judges might grade him "passably attractive", but that's about it. He has the sort of enormous nose suited perfectly to his ethnicity – it is even called "Roman". His general demeanour is of a big clumsy dog which has left the puppy stage behind, but which can by no means be called "mature."

She turned and smiled at him.

"Okay." she said, and got up, taking him by the hand and leading him to the stairs. He followed, like an eager juvenile dog who has just for the first time recognised the significance of a certain scent on the breeze. Halfway up, she paused.

"Did you hear that?"

There was a noise in the distance. Getting nearer. And louder...

Earth Space.

Penny found herself trying to scream through gritted teeth. She decided that she would never forgive Sheldon Cooper for this, ever. It did not help that Sheldon, the guy who'd caused all this, was sitting next to her looking completely untouched by it all and saying dumb-ass Mr Spock things like "Fascinating!"

In front of them, dials were spinning like the rolling tokens behind the windows of a Vegas arcade machine. The glassy screen of the omniscope was whirling and spinning and going through more psychedelic colours than a whole squatful of hippies in a VW microbus. HEX the supercomputer had not answered any of her frantic calls for help, reassurance, advice or even some sort of idea as to what was freakin' well going wrong. She had come to think of HEX as a supercompetent alien intelligence, based on some sort of really advanced computer technology years ahead of anything Bill Gates was currently capable of.

And after three days with the guys, Sheldon Cooper had somehow managed to freakin' well crash the system and give HEX a Blue Screen of Death. Nice goin', Sheldon.

"I wish I knew where we are." Sheldon remarked, conversationally.

"I wish we were where we were, Sheldon!" Penny screamed, furiously.

"I do not believe we are in any danger. Penny." Sheldon said, mildly. "If you recall, HEX said he can keep any passenger on the Machine in a technological bubble that preserves atmospheric temperature and optimum heat. Indeed, the limits of the bubble may be guessed at by the unfortunately opaque gently rounded wall surrounding us. It makes an ovoid form, like an egg."

"Yes, but what freakin' happens when we need to eat? Or drink? Or visit the bathroom?" Penny demanded. "I don't see no on-board bathroom cubicle, Sheldon!"

"You seem disturbed, Penny. Would you like me to sing "Soft Kitty" to you? It can be extraordinarily reassuring in times of need."

"No, I don't want you to song "Soft Kitty" to me! HEX! HEX! Can you hear me?"

The console was settling 's heart pounded less as she realised the erratic, and as far as she could tell, forward, motion of the Travelling Machine was slowing. There was a burst of static and crackle in the air, and something she presumed was music started to sound. Within the confines of the bubble, it was loud.

Well, I!

Just took a ride!

In a Silver Machine!And I'm still feeling mean!

"HEX?" Penny shouted. "Does this mean you're still there? And you might wanna turn the music down? Or change it? It sounds kinda like a bikers' bar in here!"

++Hello, Penny.++I apologise for the inconvenience++All my run-time has been taken up with regaining control of the machine and delivering you safely to a place as near to Pasadena, California, as I can reliably manage++. Regrettably, Doctor Cooper's ill-advised actions precipitated an emergency which sent the Machine on a completely random course.++I am going to have to recalibrate all its functions so as to safely and accurately return you home.++In the meantime, here is a selection of music.++

"HEX?" Sheldon inquired. Penny was sure the machine intelligence sighed audibly. Everybody who dealt with Sheldon ended up sighing like that. Sooner or later.

++Yes, Doctor Cooper?++

"Why can we not see out? Nothing is transparent. There are no windows."

++I wished to spare you further alarm.++ You were translocated from your apartment in Pasadena, California, to a point in the same time, but nearly a million miles away in space, practically instantaneously.++The view would be disorientating without advance warning.++If you wish, I can remove the opacity?++Stand by.++You will witness the opacity gradually fading and transparency resuming in five, four, three, two, one, seconds.++ I will be available for emergencies but will be busy restoring full functionality to the Machine.++Here is some light music.++

"Oh, my..." Sheldon breathed, as the starfield appeared bright against a black background. Penny screamed, seeing nothing apparently solid underneath her feet.

"Where's the floor? Where's the frikkin' floor, Sheldon?" Penny shrieked.

++It is impossible to fall out of the machine, Penny++ HEX reassured her. ++The protective bubble is solid and nothing can leave it unless the machine is switched off.++

Penny looked at Sheldon. Doubtfully.

++The consule is now disactivated, Penny.++I thought this was wise.++Doctor Cooper may poke and prod all he likes, but all keys are dead. It may now only be activated at my instigation.++

"Thank you, HEX". Penny said. She settled down to enjoy the view.

++Do not look directly at your planet's star.++ HEX advised them. ++I have introduced protective screening to block out its more deadly rays which in the absence of a diffusing atmosphere will be stronger.++

"Don't try to sunbathe. Sunburn will be terminal here." Sheldon translated for her.

The music playing was a combination of swirly electronics combined with a plucked string instrument that sounded like a banjo. Periodically, it swelled out to synthesised and unconvincing-sounding horns. Penny vaguely recognised it from somewhere. She associated it with the guys. Sheldon looked up, happy, and exclaimed "HEX! How appropriate!"

++I thought you would like it, Sheldon++I am sorry I cannot provide towels or a Universal Thumb.++

Penny shook her head and studied the opposite side of the view. Then she looked across and saw a large silver can, with delicate squared-off wings, swimming in space. She jumped.

"Sheldon.." she said.

He glanced round.

"That's not a UFO, Penny. We're within a thousand yards of the International Space Station."

"I know what it is, Sheldon, Howard was there for a month!"

"I never thought I'd see it from this close..."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Massimo turned, perplexed, to Dimitri Rezinov, who shrugged.

"What d'ya reckon it is?" he asked.

"Beats me, buddy."

They had seen a bright silver dot erupt out of Orion and grow by many sizes its initial magnitude. They had agreed it appeared to be heading toward them, but both had the uneasy feeling that it was something much closer to them that had grown in size. Now it had stopped in space, still silver, but resolving itself into something egg-shaped, the narrow end toward them.

"It's not likely to collide with us. Seems to have stopped." Massimo said, privately grateful he could put off alerting Ground Control. He wondered why their radars weren't picking anything up. Nobody was on the line asking for clarification and visual reports.

"I say we don't report this." Dimitri said. "Cosmograd aren't happy with guys who see UFO's. I'm not figuring to spent the rest of my career on a ground station on Novaya Zemlya."

"Siberia, huh?" Masimo asked.

"Arctic islands. Just north of Siberia and inside the Circle. Lead mines and no vodka." He shuddered.

"Ah-huh. I report a UFO and my next posting is Nome. Alaska."

"Ah. We used to call it Further Siberia."

Both men thought of the practical jokes they'd worked on the flaky and excitable Fruit Loops. Like doing an EVA wearing alien masks inside their helmets, and knocking on his sleeping quarter window. It didn't seem so funny now.

"Are you seeking to make radio contact?" Dimitri prompted. Massimo was fiddling with the receptor controls. So far, only random static consistent with cosmic and background radiation. Then both men leapt.

Do you wanna ride?

See yourself goin' by

The other side of the sky -

In a Silver Machine!

To ride sine waves in time!

It's an electric line

To your zodiac sign!

"Govno! That was loud!" exclaimed Dimitri. "Turn it down, Mass!"

"Somebody's putting us on, man." Massimo muttered. "You will not believe this..."

Dimitri followed his buddy's gaze. There was something out there that looked like a cross between a model T-Ford and a bedstead. With two people in it. Neither was wearing a suit and they seemed remarkably unaffected by the freezing cold vacuum of space. One, the sort of well-stacked blonde you would never even dream of kicking out of bed, was standing up and waving. She was dressed like some sorta waitress, as if she'd just stepped off shift at a diner. The guy with her was long and thin and definitely suggested "alien". Hell, if his skin had been gray, he'd have been the classic gray alien the UFO nutjobs went on about. And didn't they also talk about "Nordics"? The other one was blonde and nordic...man, was she ever Nordic, he could let himself be abducted by a Nordic who looked like that... but she was frantically jabbing a thumb, as if she needed a lift, or somethin'.

The radio crackled on again. This wasn't an explosion of heavy rock music. Instead it was softer, more melodic, even if that was a banjo...

Dimitri put his head in his hands.

"It's a put-on, man." he groaned, softly. ". Govno. Govno. Govno!(2) Ground Control ain't talking to us because they're doing this. Gotta be a projected hologram of some sort."

"But if it isn't?"

"Come on, man. That music's the Eagles. "Journey of the Sourceror." You're American, man, and I'm telling you? Theme music? Science Fiction show? Govno!"

He stalked away.

"Hey, where are you going?" Massimo asked. He was still entranced with the blonde.

"To find a towel, man! To cover the window!"

After a while, the improbable spacecraft flickered and vanished.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where are going now, HEX?" asked Sheldon.

"Please, Jesus. Let it be 2311 North los Robles." muttered Penny. If only those astronauts had thrown her a rope, or a traction beam, or something... weren't spacecraft supposed to have traction beams fitted as standard? They were in every freakin' other episode of Star Trek... she felt slightly cheated. She could'a hitched a ride back to Earth from there.

++I believe Penny will feel happier with visibly solid ground under her feet.++Besides, I require a little additional time to be sure the guidance thaumology is restored. Before I take the risk of navigating to Earth, I will attempt to reach a currently nearer objective of my choosing. ++ Stand by. Impact in..."

"Impact?" Penny screamed.

And then things flickered, shook, contracted and expanded all at the same time.

"Ugggh." said Penny.

"We must have travelled through hyperspace." Sheldon said, excitedly.

++That is one term for the transition, Doctor Cooper++There are others.++ We call it "thlabber".++

"Interesting term." Sheldon said,looking round him. Dust was falling back to earth around them. If indeed they were on Earth. He frowned. The dust was settling back in an odd sort of way...

++Thlabber relates both to the process and the state of mind engendered during the process++ HEX said. ++There can be some discomfort and a certain existential doubt.++But Penny appears to be recovering quickly.++

Sheldon observed her dispassionately.

++It has been remarked that passing through hyperspace is like drinking a glass of water++ HEX said. ++But from the point of view of the glass of water.++

"Fit the Second of the original radio show of The Hitch-Hiker's Guide To The Galaxy." observed Sheldon. "When Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect are seeking escape from a doomed Earth, and the Vogon ship, upon which they are travelling, makes the hyperspatial jump to Barnard's Star."

++Just so, Sheldon.++A lot of truth is concealed in humour.++It is a shame Douglas Adams is no longer here to realise that++.(3)

"Where the frick are we now?" Penny asked, testily. "This ain't Pasadena. Ain't even Kansas."

++I have expanded the size of the protective bubble++ HEX said. ++It now extends some way underground encasing part of the surface of this planetoid, enabling you to walk around.++

The horizon was black. The ground under their feet was barely lit. The stars in the sky were sharp pinpricks that remained constant and did not twinkle.

++There will be a short intermission whilst I perform a systems check and recalibrate.++ I will endeavour to be quick, as while I can maintain temperature and atmospheric pressure within the bubble, it only contains a finite supply of breathable oxygen.++

"What the freak!" Penny shouted. HEX continued, blithely,

++You may explore the lunar surface within the confines of the protective field while you wait.++As before, I will play appropriate light music.++

Penny looked at Sheldon.

"Did HEX just say..."

"Penny. We're on the MOON!" Sheldon said, excited.

"Yeah, right. Make a... moonpie or something, hon. It's a bit dark, though."

As if on cue, music started.

Breathe! Breathe in the air...

This brought to mind an awkward fact about their current situation.

"HEX? Different music, please!"

"It's appropriate, Penny. We are on the Dark Side Of The Moon, almost." said Sheldon. "I would guess the twilight zone acting as a boundary between the two. The landscape is characteristic of the far smoother, less cratered, Dark Side..."

HEX switched tracks.

Far, far, far away, way
People heard him say, say
I will find a way, way
There will come a day, day
Something will be done...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna had taken both Leonard's hands in hers. Ponder noted she could be amazingly gentle if she chose. But wasn't gentleness the prerogative of the strong?

"I hev every confidence HEX will bring them beck." she said, quietly. "If he can't, nobody can."

Leonard nodded, wanting to believe it. Ponder reflected that this had been the first time he'd ever heard the computer swear. And it had been provoked by Sheldon Cooper.

He and Johanna had tried, frequently, to raise HEX via the IPODs and cellphones. But the devices were currently just ordinary early 21st-century American technology, with no sign of having ever been occupied by an alien superintelligence.

For those left behind in Apartment 4a, all they could do was to wait. Bernadette was comforting a distraught, or at least inconvenienced, Amy. Howard was not inclined to make silly jokes. Raj was quiet and Lucy, for want of anything else, had got a drawing pad out and was sketching, things and people.

"If, you know, you end up having to stay here. We'll help you settle." Howard had said. It was genuine. It was sincere. It spoke for all of them.

"Will people on your own world miss you?" Bernadette had asked. Both Johanna and Ponder had nodded.

There really wasn't much more to be said.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So we're on the Moon. We're on the godamn Moon." Penny said, flatly. "The Moon, Sheldon. The Moon."

"I hear you." Sheldon said. "Repetition does not make it more real, Penny." He paused and watched. "And do bear in mind..."

Penny swung her legs off the seat of the machine, swung round, and tried to take a step. She shrieked as momentum propelled her further than she expected. Penny bounced off the invisible forcefield and asked, rhetorically, "What the FREAK!"

"One small step for a woman. One extremely long step taken by a woman who has not grasped her apparent mass is one-sixth of what it is on Earth, owing to the weaker gravitational field."

"Sheldon!" she protested. Then she did some quick math.

"Hey, I only weigh twenty pounds here?"

"Just so, Penny. Although I am more fascinated by the demonstrable fact HEX can hum like Pink Floyd."

Penny shook her head. Then grinned for the first time.

One small step for a woman...

"Sheldon, you're into flags?"

She retrieved from the pocket of her waitress apron one of the small, crudely made, American flags the Cheesecake Factory used as table decorations for birthday celebrations for kids. She'd pocketed it when clearing a table down after a family party. The guys at work thought it was a sick joke these little American flags came in a crate marked "Made in China".

She crouched down, picked up two middling-heavy rocks and put them in her apron pockets. Then as an afterthought she added a handful or two of moon dust. She then moulded some of the moondust into a little moonpie. She stuck the table-top flag, printed on coarse paper and stuck to a popsicle stick, as firmly into the mound as she could. Sheldon had by now rounded the Machine and was watching with his arms folded.

"Get round here now, Sweetie. This is a solemn moment. HEX?"

++Yes, Penny?++

"First woman on the moon, hon. Play the music!"

HEX chose exactly the right piece. Chords sounded out, familiar to Penny ever since her patriotic father had made damn sure she knew them.

Oh say can you see, by the Dawn's early light,

What so proudly we hailed by the twilight's last gleaming?

Sheldon had grasped instantly, and even he had a hand on his heart and was singing.

They got to

o'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!

and Penny realised they were heading into Difficult Second Verse Territory. Without fifty thousand other people around to prompt her at a football game, and ideally all the words written out, she knew she'd flunk this one.

She left it to Sheldon, who was word perfect, and after On the shore dimly seen, she elected to hum the rest.

"Sheldon? Sheldon? Two verses should do it, I think."

"The first woman on the moon." Sheldon said, looking down at the flag with reverence. "But it isn't over until the fat lady sings!"

"Sheldon, I'll try to get up to twenty-one pounds just for you!"

He's from Texas. They got over losing the Civil War better than most. Sure he'll know every word of every verse. Mary and his daddy would have made sure of that.

"First woman on the moon! I sure am, Sheldon!" Penny said, proudly. "But who can I ever tell?"

Sheldon produced a cell phone.

"You'll be way out of signal here, Earthpie!" she objected, shaking her head.

"But I can still take photographs." he pointed out. "And Earth's rising, look!"

++I believe I can take you home now++ Hex said.

"Not now, HEX!" said Penny, as Sheldon took his shots.

++We must leave soon. I personally do not require oxygen, but you two have been using it at an alarming rate.++ The only place to replenish it, or for this protective shell to be irrelevant, is on Earth++

Penny posed for another shot, with the lunar horizon and the rising Earth behind her. Light from the rising planet was diffusing the bleak lunar surface.

++The first signs of suffocation are headache, rising bodily temperature, inability to think clearly...++

"Yeah, we get it, HEX." Penny said. "Take us home?"

They departed from the Moon to the strains of Pink Floyd's Set the Controls to The Heart of The Sun. She hoped it wasn't meant literally.

++I believe I can return you to the United States on the same day you left.++ said HEX. ++The controls are not perfectly calibrated and require fine balancing++However, I had to set this against the very real danger of your dying horribly in deep space through asphyxiation.++

"But we may in that case have been picked up one second away from death by the starship Heart of Gold, via its Infinite Improbability Drive!"

"Don't hold your breath, Sheldon." muttered Penny. She knew the reference; she'd once bought Leonard a first edition Douglas Adams. She'd also been forced to watch the BBC TV adaptation. She wondered how Trillian had put up with her assortment of nerds and geeks.

"But Penny, holding their breath is exactly what Ford Prefect and Arthur Dent had to do to stand a chance of being rescued by the fabulous star-ship Heart of Gold!" Sheldon objected.

Penny looked at the now-opaque again wall of the bubble. Being stuck in deep space was bad enough. Being stuck in deep space with a science-fiction geek...

++Arrival in the continental USA now assured++ HEX broke in. ++ Advisory: the landing could be a little bit bumpy.++

Penny and Sheldon spoke together.

"Can we be a little more precise than just "the Continental USA"?"

"Whaddya mean, "bumpy"?"

"It's a big continent."

"How bumpy is "bumpy"?"

"Hey, my cellphone works again!"

And then there was a bump and a crash.

A very big crash.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna had asked Leonard to find her the Sandman series. To take his mind away from the appalling prospect of losing Penny, he was explaining the graphic novels' setting and conceit.

"The entities who share the running of the world ell hev names beginning with "D"." she said, examining the rich and detailed artwork. "There is Dream, Despair, Desire, end others, whose youngest sister is Death. She seems very sympathetic, Leonard."

"And of course it all fits into a series of inter-related stories." Leonard said."Everything affects everything else."

"Yes." she said. "It does."

Johanna thought of Susan Sto Helit. For obvious reasons, the sort she felt thankful for, she had never met Susan while she was On Duty, so to speak. But off duty, Susan was a quiet, serious, fiercely intelligent, young woman who did not take idiots gladly. Susan and the Lady Assassins got on well. They all used the same hairdresser, for one thing.(4) The Death of the Sandman world, while sharing some similarities, was not Susan Sto Helit. Ponder had guardedly agreed any leakage from Discworld was minimal. But he had paused on one page.

"That grimoire." he said. "book of magic drawn on the page there. It's called the Necrotelecomnicon." (5)

And then a cellphone rang. Leonard's. He jumped.

"Enswer it, Leonard" she prompted him. He did.

"Sheldon?" he shouted. "Where the photon are you? Is Penny there? Oh hell... Sheldon! Stay on the phone, will you!"

Leonard looked round at everyone.

"They have just crashed the machine. Through the wall of somebody's house. In New York. They are now running for it."

He slapped his free palm over his eyes and groaned.

Lynwood. Long Island. New York.

The couple who had paused in the act of going upstairs to spend some quality time together stood open-mouthed as the noise grew louder and nearer. Then the front wall of their living room exploded into brick, wood, plaster and rubble as some sort of vehicle crashed through. It crushed the couch the couple had lately been sitting on and ground to a halt.

There was a pause.

A very tall thin guy emerged from the dust cloud. He was holding a cellphone and talking to some guy named Leonard.

"Hey." was all the husband thought to say. His wife stood there with her lower jaw hanging open in surprise.

"Er...hi." said a very pretty blonde girl who got out of the other side of the vehicle. "Real sorry 'bout the mess."

There were voices outside. Getting nearer.

"Raymond? Raymond? Are you alright, dear? And are my grandchildren safe? We saw the crash."

It was the querulous voice of a elderly woman.

"Jeezalu, woman." a male voice said, impatiently. "Ain't you missin' somebody out there?"

"I don't think so, Frank." the same voice said again, but with a harder edge.

Penny grabbed Sheldon. "Come on! We gotta get out of here!"

She turned to the man on the stairs and gave him her warmest smile.

"This ain't Pasadena, California, right?"

"No. It's Lynwood. Long Island. New York." His voice was slightly reedy and nasal.

"Thanks. Raymond." Penny said, giving him her smile again. She hauled Sheldon away, stepping over the rubble and easily evading the elderly couple, the woman short and plump and not made for running, the man tall and bald but very definitely running to fat.

"ROBERT!" the older woman shrieked. "Stop those two! They nearly killed my Raymond! And my lovely grandchildren!"

"And Debra." a low bassy voice reminded her. "Mom, they nearly got Debra!"

"Yeah, her too." the woman said, indifferently, in a voice suggesting that her son could always get another wife, and Debra's loss, while sad, would be a lesser tragedy.

Penny took off down a suburban street that could have been Anytown America, except that it was set to New York grey.

Hey you two freaking maniacs! God-damn lousy stinkin' Californian hippy dropouts." Frank shouted after them.

"Dropout?" Sheldon cried back, stung. "Sir, I'll have you know my academic degrees include..."

"NOT NOW, SHELDON!" Penny shrieked. "We gotta get out of here!" She dragged him along.

And the largest policeman Penny had ever seen was running after them. Well, lumbering.

"STOP! Police pursuit!" the low bass voice grumbled.

The sight of him sparked something off the old primal Penny. Six-eight at least. Growly low voice. No fat on him. OK, he must be forty. If it wasn't for Moonpie here I could almost let him arrest me...

"We gotta split, Sheldon." Penny said. "Get outta here. Shake off the cop. We're in New York. Subway can't be far away. Get to the airport. Then get the first plane west, you get me?" They turned a corner.

To see the travelling machine sitting there, unscratched, in front of them.

++GET ON.++HURRY!++

Penny threw Sheldon into one seat and leapt into the other.

"But how did you..."

The air blurred and hazed around them as Sergeant Robert Barone turned the corner in hot pursuit.

"Damn, damn, damn!" he cursed. "Nobody's ever gonna believe this..."

He picked up something from the ground. It was a waitress's bill pad with the heading on each page

THE CHEESECAKE FACTORY

2 WEST COLORADO BOULEVARD

PASADENA

CALIFORNIA 91101

"Dad was right" he thought, pocketing the pad. (6) And hadn't the girl, the California beach-blonde, said something to Ray about "is this Pasadena?" Jeez, I'd sure love to book them and drug-test them...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

++The energy field, the bubble, protects what is inside from the outside.++Therefore when we materialised inside that wall, the machine was unscathed but the wall was torn to pieces.++

"Yeah, but that poor guy had his house destroyed!" said Penny. "I feel kinda bad about that."

++I have checked the timelines.++Apparently Mr Raymond Barone of Lynwood, Long Island, New York, was fated to have his front wall destroyed in an accident today.++We merely pre-empted the fact that his own parents would have been the agents of destruction++

"What, that ugly old bald guy and the short fat fussy wife?" Penny said.

++They were just getting into the car as we materialised in Raymond and Debra Barone's wall.++ Had we not been there, a piece of careless reversing on the part of Mr Frank Barone would have garaged their car on their son's front room carpet. ++I will of course alter history so that this event happens as scheduled.++ Look, this is another consequence of Doctor Cooper's heedless messing with my controls.++ Nobody is injured, and Frank Barone is forced to pay the repair costs.++Now if you excuse me, I rather think that hard knock had a beneficial percussive maintainance effect on the travelling engine.++

"What?" asked Penny. Sheldon shrugged.

"He hit it, really hard. And everything works again."

And they rematerialized in Apartment 4a. Penny and Leonard hugged hard.

"Are you crying, Leonard?" Sheldon asked,with mild surprise.

"I thought I'd lost you for good..." Leonard said to Penny.

"Tougher stuff than that, sweetie." Penny said. "When you're ready to hear it I'll tell you where we've been. Got proof, too."

Amy was standing expectantly in front of Sheldon with her arms outspread. She seemed to be expecting him to realise something manifestly self-evident. And was irked that he hadn't.

"Sheldon, you ass." Leonard hissed.

Sheldon looked on in mild surprise.

"I fail to see what the fuss is about. I went away, I came back."

"JUST HUG HER, YOU IDIOT!" Penny shouted. She had just noticed a painful bruise in her upper arm, probably from being flung around inside the Machine. (7) Leonard's hug was irritating it.

Sheldon blinked. But he hugged Amy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And just before generally accepted consensus reality reasserted itself, Ray Barone turned to Debra and said, in a bewildered voice

"I'm sure I've seen those two guys somewhere before. I just can't place them."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And a quarter of a million miles away, a tiny American flag made out of paper and popsicle stick stood undisturbed in a mound of moon-dust, an anomaly for future archaeologists to puzzle over...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1) It's an official soundtrack because it's my bloody story and I chose the songs. That's why.

2) Because Russians do not intend to lag behind Afrikaaners and the Indian sub-continent in the art of swearing. Russian has a whole lexicon of inventive curse-words and profanities.

3) "it isn't true unless it makes you laugh." - Illuminatus! Co-creator Robert Anton Wilson.

4) Conina Harebut's Barbarian Hairdressing Salon. Where Conina, a barbarian warrior with a vocation for hair care, provides a bespoke service for women whose daily lives take them to places where one's hair can get a bit frazzled. Women who grapple with peril, death, danger and hand-to-hand combat in fearsome places. Her client group includes Heroines, Assassins, Dark Clerks, Thieves, Watchwomen, tax inspectors, the occasional Seamstress, and Teachers. Susan Sto Helit's hair needs a really good hairdresser. Conina is a really good hairdresser.

5) It was just as well Ponder got distracted before he saw the orangutan. Neil Gaiman has worked with Terry Pratchett. (Good Omens). The Sandman series incorporates quite a few sly Discworld homages. Susan may indeed come from broadly the same place as Gaiman's take on Death.

6) It really exists. In Pasadena. And no, it's not a case of an entrepreneur cashing in on the siucess of TBBT. The Cheesecake Factory was there long before the show. Perhaps Chuck Lorré was doing a favor for an eaterie he liked, who knows? According to a friend who hails from LA, (Pacific Heights), there are queues around the block to get in, even though she doesn't especially rate the food.

7) The demands of narrative causality. Had HEX not made the Machine invisible to air-defense systems over North America, a couple of guided missiles ultimately launched by an automated system inside a mountain might have been part of the picture too.

This episode's soundtrack:

The Eagles: Journey of the Sourcerer.  Quite fitting, really, as when we open, Penny and Sheldon are stranded in deep space, having got off a soon-to-be-destroyed Planet Earth (well, 200 years before the Snowball is milliseconds on the galactic scale.) They are accompanied by the only slightly erratic alien intelligence known as HEX, whose guidance systems have been jammed by some unwise poking of buttons by Sheldon Cooper. Can our heroes hitch-hike out of there?

Pink Floyd: Saucer Full of Secrets; Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun; Let There Be More Light; Interstellar Overdrive; Breathe; Dark Side of the Moon.

Blue Öyster Cult (because I'm a fan, that's why!) Heavy Metal; Monsters.

The Rolling Stones: Ten Thousand Light Years From Home. 10,000 light years equate to 3,065 parsecs.

The Steve Miller Band: Jungle Love Indirectly referenced. Anyone familiar with Everybody Loves Raymond will get the reference.

Podcast NOW AVAILABLE on You-Tube! Look for my YT identity of Pragmatist23.

Chapter 15: The Human Resources Limitation

More Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

Chapter Fourteen© Chuck Lorré Productions, to Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain.

Possible titles (feel free to devise your own: PM me with them? Namechecks will be given)

this is your author speaking! Thank you for the reviews, much appreciated. As I seem to be on a roll with this one, may I say there is NOW AN OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK to this fic? (1)

FF won't let me post a link - rats. But go to You-Tube, u-Tube, et c, and look for my other identity of Pragmatist23. There is a playlist of all songs (so far) that directly or indirectly get referenced here. You may like at least SOME of them. "Soft Kitty" is in there too, performed by Kaley Cuoco-Sweeting (Penny). Thank you.

Monday morning:

Johanna went for a very early morning run. There really hadn't been a great deal of talking the previous night after Sheldon's potentially catastrophic joyride on the Travelling Machine. People had responded to the return of Penny, Sheldon and HEX with mingled joy, exasperation and relief.

Penny had reached into the pocket of her waitressing apron and then sprinkled a handful of grey dust over Leonard's head, making him sneeze.

After the sneezing fit was over, she apologetically reminded him she'd said she'd cover him in moondust someday. And hey, here it was. He had accepted her romantic intentions with eventual good grace. She had then presented one moon rock to Amy, on the grounds it was one she'd never get from her admirer Burt. The other one went to Howard, with a great big grin.

"It's from the Moon, Howard. The actual freaking Moon. Go figure." she said, as casually as she could manage.

"Hey." Howard said. "A guy from NASA got seriously busted for doing something like this..."(1) and then he realised.

"Oh." he said, flatly.

"Saw the ISS too." Penny added. "From outside. You know, on the way."

That'll stop him bragging about his trip into space, she thought.

Everyone who didn't live at 2311 had gone home. Then bed. It had been a fraught tiring day. (2)

Johanna had risen early on the Monday. Today would see a visit to Caltech and the sort of informal interviews for employment that were a part of her cover story and the justification, in official eyes, of her visit to the USA. Ponder, she knew, was to be similarly interviewed by the Physics Department.

She prepared with a long run, spending an hour or so getting to know the layout of Pasadena in the best way possible, on the ground on her feet. Six-thirty in the morning in California was a magical time of day. The only thing she and Ponder had found hard was the perpetual stench of automobile residues. California natives did not notice, in much the same way its citizens did not notice the smell of Ankh-Morpork. But it was all too obvious to visitors from a planet that had no internal combustion engine.

The smell was minimal, although not entirely absent. She enjoyed the run, noting that at one point Caltech was only two miles away if she elected to turn left rather than right. She opted to take in Old Pasadena, reflected that if she wanted, she could stroll another half-mile or so to the Cheesecake Factory where Penny worked, and then gave herself the challenge of finding a parellel route that would return her to North los Robles without retracing her steps. In a city with a grid pattern, she could have done this blindfold.

A pleasant and undemanding thirteen miles later, she returned, showered, and dressed for business. Bernadette had recommended she get at least one business suit for formal workwear. Penny was up by then and helped valet her.

"Pantyhose straight? Ah-huh. Hair bound up? Ah-huh. Something's missing, though. Some sorta jewellry, maybe a brooch on your lapel. Any membership pins, hon? Professional memberships? Engineers wear a pin or a ring. University sororities have badges. You get the job, guaranteed, if you and the woman interviewing you both belong to Pi Beta Phi. Or Kappa Kappa Gamma.(4) Same with skull badges. Hell, that's how President Bush got the job, skull badge!"

Johanna considered.

"I believe I hev just the thing." she said. She brought out the black-enamel and silver badge of the Guild of Assassins.

"Won't ask. Looks good!" Penny said.

Feeling constrained, chafed, and slightly sweaty in the unfamiliar pantyhose, and vowing to shed them at the earliest opportunity ("no bare legs for a formal interview, hon. You gotta put up with the discomfort", Penny had said.) she joined Ponder and Leonard and Sheldon for a ride to the university.

"Hey, wow!" Leonard had said. Ponder boggled quietly. The powder-blue jacket and longer formal skirt over a white blouse, the elegant shoes, the hairstyling, the regular sheen the leg coverings, some sort of sheer silky substance, gave her... and the Assassins' Guild badge on her left lapel?

Ponder was dressed in formal suit items borrowed from the guys. They gave him the intended look of an eccentric English university don, a young fogey dressing twenty years older than he was and aspiring to a look belonging fifty years in the past.

He thought Johanna had never looked more utterly desirable. She thought he was unbearably cute and cuddly. She supposed it was the bowtie. And the UU alumni pin he wore.

"Remember, Ponder, that's to do with one of those English university frats." Leonard said. "Like the one C.S. Lewis and Professor Tolkien belonged to.(3)"

Ponder, who was also wearing his membership pin for The Illuminated Brethren of Midnight, (5)nodded sagely.

"It relates to the Eightfold Way, proposed by Murray Gell-Mann." he said. "A small close group of researchers, admission by invitation only, dedicated to discussing the quantum significance of Gell-Mann's eightfold theory of sub-atomic octets."

HEX had suggested an alternative and plausible meaning for the UU octagon symbol. Ponder had learnt his lines well.

"Gell-Mann proposed his theory in 1961." Sheldon Cooper sniffed, disdainfully. "Hardly cutting-edge physics!"

"Oh, come on, Sheldon." Leonard objected. "It still informs everything we know today about flavour affinities, baryon decouplets, baryon and meson octets."

Johanna sighed and swung her legs into the back of the car. It was a sight that made Leonard lose interest in physics for a second or two. Sheldon carried on expounding regardless, as Leonard and Ponder hopped into the car.

"Oh, very well, then." he grumbled, and got in. He carried on talking physics from the front passenger seat whilst Ponder and Johanna were locked in silent mutual admiration and desire in the back.

Sheldon eventually gave into Leonard's request to use his privileged parking space. But with bad grace.

"Sheldon, it's right up next to the building!" Leonard said, with heat. "My parking space is practically in Altadena! 'Sides, it's hot. We've got people here dressed for interview. I wanna get them out of the car and into the building without their spending too much time in the sun, where there isn't any air conditioning? Common courtesy, Sheldon? Your mom might have explained the concept to you once?"

"Very well." Sheldon said, eventually. "As a courtesy to our guests. But you can move it to your own space afterward."

Johanna and Ponder were grateful to enter an air-conditioned building. The day outside was gearing up to be sweltering. She was born into a hot climate and habituated to hot, dry, places. But never before in clothes like these. She felt that were she to stay outside for very long, the combination of the pantyhose and the elegant but enclosed shoes would mean her feet would be swimming in sweat. And Ponder was already going as red-faced as Fred Colon.

"You don't need to wear these all day." Leonard said, kindly. "Once the formal introductions are over you can loosen up a bit. Take your cue from what the regular staff are wearing. Oh, hi, Leslie!"

"Hi, Leonard. And hi, Doctor Dumb-Ass."

Sheldon glared furiously at the newcomer. She was casually dressed in jeans and baggy shirt. Her frizzy brown hair was loosely tied back and she was bespectacled.

"Doctor Leslie Winkle." Sheldon nodded. "And how have you been wasting Physics Department money this month?"

"At least I get it to waste." she said, pleasantly. "So what's your budget, Sheldon? A packet of whiteboard pens, a legal pad and a few pencils? They say you theoretical physics guys don't cost much."

Academic rivalry, Ponder thought. Thinly-veiled hostility and insult. He was relieved. He'd been wondering if he was going to fit in or not.

"We generate the ideas that go one step down the heirarchy, for you experimental physicists to prove or disprove!" Sheldon said, haughtily.

"Whatever." Leslie Winkle said, dismissively. She tossed her frizzy hair. "But we still get the money, dumb-ass." Johanna spluttered. The girl turned to look at her.

"You two guys look over-dressed." she said, extending a hand. "Hi. I'm Leslie. Despite your arriving with Dumb-Ass here, you can't be a physicist. You look normal."

Johanna took it.

"I'm not. I'm a zoologist."

"Ah-huh. Hard to be a dumb-ass and live if you're dealing with grizzly bears, huh? Gotta keep your wits about you, I guess."

She turned to Ponder.

"May I introduce..."

"English, I bet!" Leslie said, appraising him, and cutting Sheldon off.

"Good guess!" said Leonard.

"Is it that obvious?" Ponder asked.

"Well," Leslie said, "for one, you're dressed like Doctor Who's brother. Second Doctor, maybe the Third. With a dash of Fourth. Second, you're red a a lobster. Only Englishmen over-dress for California and go that color. Dress casual tomorrow, Doc. Guess you got interviews, huh?"

"Doctor Gablehauser at nine-thirty." Sheldon said. "As a potential new Fellow, Professor Ponder Stibbons could be a great asset to this University."

Leslie gave him another impassive look.

"Ah-huh. Is the "Ponder" bit your first name or is it valency-bonded to the "Stibbons" with a hyphen?" she asked. "I'd say you were a Geoffrey. Or maybe a Jeremy. Or a Harry. Hey, Harry Ponder-Stibbons. I kinda like the soundda that!"

She patted Ponder's arm. "Gablehauser might get a bit insecure if he sees you're half his age and you out-rank him." she advised. "Don't bring up the Professor bit till you have to. But I guess I'll see you around, Professor Harry Ponder-Stibbons!"

Leslie Winkle walked on. Then, as an afterthought, she said to Johanna

"Nobody here to show you to Zoology? Wanna tag on?"

Johanna nodded. Until she'd hit on Ponder, she had found herself quite liking Leslie Winkle. She had a refreshingly direct manner with Sheldon, for one thing. Putting the uncomfortable thought about Leslie flirting with Ponder firmly out of her mind, she allowed herself to be led, learning what she could about Caltech on the way.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sheldon made a shudder of distaste.

"A colleague?" Ponder inquired.

"Unfortunately so. Steer clear of her, Professor Ponder Stibbons. She is positively wanton! Did you know she used to engage in coitus with Doctor Hofstadter? Frequently and often?"

"Sheldon!" Leonard protested. "Listen. Ponder, buddy. Don't mention Leslie in front of Penny? Please?"

"I don't see the difficulty, Leonard." Sheldon went on. "I understand no contract for, nor no expectancy of, coitus exists between you now. It long precedes your commencement of intimate coital relations with Penny, and in any case, Leslie has since been sexually intimate with Howard."

Leonard grimaced. "Ponder? Not in front of Bernadette, either?"

Ponder hastened to assure him. He more-or-less understood these things. His only anything like significant liaison prior to Johanna had been Diamanda, that summer in Lancre, the one that had gone through a dark night of terror back to something like bliss.(6) Ninety percent of it had been hand-holding and embarrassed silences, and it certainly had never got anything close to "coitus", despite the elderly witch who'd never been far away, making single entendres and calling encouragement in a loud embarrassing voice whilst making gestures with her right arm. But the very mention of the name "Diamanda", or even "Lucy Tockley", which she had eventually confessed to him was her real name, was enough to put Johanna into a cool reflective silence. He suspected Penny and Bernadette could react in the same general way, especially about a woman who'd, er, coitussed, both Leonard and Howard in quick succession.

As they walked the corridors towards the Physics Department, a slightly affected, but sardonically mocking voice, said "Cooper!"

"And there are some colleagues who are worse. Because coitus is not an option. For anybody." Sheldon muttered.

What do you want, Kripke?" Sheldon said. The newcomer was dark-haired, sallow, and appeared to combine sidling and slithering as a method of locomotion.

"Who's the new playmate, Cooper?" There was something in the way he pronounced his "l"'s...

"Kripke. Professor Ponder Stibbons, of the UEA Institute of Norwich, England. This is, unfortunately, Doctor Barry Kripke, a... professional colleague... also of the Department of Physics."

"Pweased to meet you, pwoffessow. I'm assuming the "Pondew-Stibbons" part is one of those Engwish things whewe thewe awe two suwnames and a hyphen?"

Ponder sighed. He decided to take the easy route.

"My friends call me "Harry", Doctor Kripke."

He heard Sheldon supwessing – suppressing – a snigger. Not very well.

Well done, Ponder. The man has a speech impediment, and you're asking him to call you "Harry". Tactful.

"Hawwy" it is then, Pwofessor." They shook hands, and exchanged academic credentials.

"So you'we staying at Cooper's? That suwpwises me. You seem way too sane for that!"

"I assure you, Doctor Kripke." Ponder said, with total truth, " The Faculty at my own University are so far off the accepted sanity curve that this is a pleasant holiday!"

"If you choose to stay at Cooper's of youw own fwee wiww, then I bewieve you. Good luck with Gabwehousew!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leslie Winkle, talking sardonically about Caltech and its departments, delivered Johanna to Natural History and Zoology, and wished her luck.

"We need more normally sane academics here." she said. "Especially in Physics! And Gods, it needs more women! "

Johanna found her hard to dislike. But just let her hit on Ponder...

Dr Eric Gablehauser looked like a used-car salesman with, to Ponder's eyes, more than a hint of Dibbler. He shook hands enthusiastically with the new professor, and invited him to sit. He did not extend this courtesy to Sheldon and Leonard, who stood uneasily in their boss's office.

"Welcome to Caltech, Professor Ponder-Stibbons!" he said, in an avuncular voice. "We got a great history of truly awesome British professors here. Not hard, as the Brits pay their best academics next to nada. You're not hard to poach, huh? We even had that Stephen Hawking here for a few years. Unfortunately before he started writing the books. If he'd waited and we couldda got Caltech's name on the credits page, he'd have been worth millions."

Gablehauser sighed, reflectively.

"Instead, goddamn Cambridge gets the credit. And the bucks."

"Doctor Gablehauser, it isn't about the money!" Sheldon objected, hotly. His boss fixed him with a worldy-wise eye.

"It's not? It's only about dispassionately advancing human scientific knowledge? Whoo, boy..."

He turned back to Ponder.

"Stephen Hawking. Guy didn't need a wheelchair at first. But he got worse. So we got Engineering to look at the problem and custom-build him one. Problem. The guy from engineering built so much onto the back that the moment Hawking got in and switched on, it overbalanced and fell over. Poor guy ended up on his back. We apologised, said the technology was in its infancy. Can't prove it, but I suspect the engineer was called Wolowitz. Musta been a relative, huh?"(7)

He sat back.

"Professor Ponder-Stibbons. Hyphen thing, huh? You got a first name?"

Ponder sighed. He knew HEX was listening and could be relied on to make minor adjustments.

"Harry."

"Sure thing, Harry. Pleased to meet ya." He extended a hand.

"Had some printouts made, Harry. Joint research you did with a..."

Gablehauser looked down.

"A Doctor Adrian Turnipseed of... Indianapolis University at Indiana-Purdue. Formerly of Brasenose College, Oxford. Ah-huh. Some interesting ideas about rotation of topological objects in n-dimensional space with regard to what is visible in the normal four dimensions and what degree of trans-dimensional compression is necessary within the limitations set by topological quantum field theory. Loved the analogy of the mediaeval Cabinet of Curiosity, prof. And that wizard thing you used as a hook, you know, the bag of holding idea outta Dungeons and Dragons. My son plays that game. He's a typical American teen, no great interest in science, but he'd absolutely get an idea like that. Catch his imagination. You ever thought about writing books for the mass market, you know, explaining physics to the layman? Seems to me you gotta gift. You'd sell. Make dollars for this university. "

"Just condense everything down into soundbites, each sufficient to be read in full during the average bowel movement." Sheldon Cooper muttered.

Gablehauser glared at him.

"Well, it works for you." Sheldon said. His boss glared, unamused.

"Doctor Cooper, unfortunately Professor Ponder-Stibbons is dependent on you, and to Doctor Hofstadter,for a professional reference and sponsorship of his application to work here." Gablehauser said. "Do not prejudice his application, Sheldon."

He returned to Ponder.

"Harry? You're, er... staying with Doctor Cooper? See here you're giving his address."

Ponder remembered his name was somehow mutating into "Harry".

"It's an interesting experience, Doctor Gablehauser." he said.

"Geez, British understatement." Gablehauser remarked. "Gotta say, Harry. My PA saw you walking up the corridor with Cooper here and Doctor Kripke. Perfectly peaceably. Usually they argue like two polecats in a sack. Looks like you're a diplomat too. Geez, if two construction workers dissed each other like that, there'd be bloodshed!"

"In my experience of academia, sir, we've got past bloodshed. The weapons are more lethal than that. After all, physical wounds heal."

"Harry, you've got experience! I like that. This department is full of egos, weirdos, nutjobs and frustrated geniuses. We need a sane guy who sees it like it is. Administrative experience too. Good at selling ideas and raising revenue. And one who can sell books for the Caltech University Press."

He paused.

"Leonard. Has Sheldon's mom met this guy?"

"Yes, sir. She likes him."

"Ah-huh. Mary emailed me and said she'd be obliged if I looked favourably on him, as she thinks he's a good influence on Sheldon. Harry. You are in!"

He extended a hand. Ponder took it, remembering to have words with HEX about doctoring what were, admittedly, valid scientific papers. At least, on their own planet.

Then picked up the phone for his PA.

"Monica? See if HR have a slot for an orientation, will you? Professor Harry Ponder-Stibbons. New hire. Thanks!"

He put the phone down. "Sheldon. Be useful. Take Harry on the tour. I'll have Monica page you with Harry's slot with HR. See he gets there. Leonard? See Sheldon doesn't foul up. Thanks guys, now if you'll excuse me?"

"Ponder?" Sheldon said, as they left, "Please can I read the paper you co-wrote with Doctor Turnipseed? The idea was so interesting!"

"HEX can give you a copy. I have no doubt at all about this!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Doctor Richard Attleborough(9) pumped her hand energetically.

"My dear young woman! Come and join us! Tell me about yourself!"

He was British. Big, bluff, and hearty. He reminded her of Mustrum Ridcully. Which was good. She knew how to deal with Ridcully. And she wasn't entirely surprised to see his office was full of taxidermy.

"Oh, specimens." he said, airily. "Specimens. I like to keep a few on display. Reminds visitors of what we're about. Visual appeal."

"So I perceive." she said, looking up into the jaws of an eight-foot tall Kodiac bear. "The Kodiac is a protected species, yesno?"

Attleborough looked shifty for an instant.

"Got it from the Zoo." he said. "It did die a natural death. My long-standing association with the Zoo director ensured something of the creature passed into posterity."

Johanna gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"They've offered us a camel that died suddenly the other day. It'd be a bit big, perhaps."

"I would decline, sir. Cemels tend to smell like en old carpet. A stuffed cemel would hev the old-carpet smell. For perpetuity."

"I believe you're right." Attleborough said. "And not all that visually interesting, either."

He motioned her to a seat. Johanna sat and crossed her legs demurely. There was a swish of nylon. Attleborough glanced down for a slightly too-long instant. Then he forced his eyes up to her less interesting paperwork.

"So." he said. "South Africa. Field experience. I was in the Kruger National Park when I was a lot younger. Spent a few good summers there. Great days. Great days."

She listened to his reminiscences with half an ear. She suspected his visits to the Kruger might have involved high-powered weapons and a hunting licence, but she held her peace.

"Good times. Never picked up more than a few words of Afrikaans, though. All the Boers spoke English. Which reminds me."

He tapped his fingers on the desk as if trying to recall something.

"Library. We keep a technical library here. Some of the younger people prefer looking it all up on this Interweb thing, but I never got the hang of that. Much prefer the old-fashioned print-on-paper way. Easier to read."

"I too prefer the human touch, sir." Johanna said. "The feel end texture of the printed word on paper. Even the smell of paper. End in a proper library, there ere people on hend to edvise."

She thought of the Librarian, and wondered for an absurd instant if the resident Librarian here was also an orang-utan. Attleborough brightened.

"A young woman after my own heart! Which brings it to mind."

He found a stack of paper. A thick stack of paper.

"Got one of the freshmen to print all this off for me." he said. "From your university in South Africa. Looks incredibly fascinating, but the problem is, it's all in Afrikaans. I know this is going to be awfully dull for you, but are you up for a spot of technical translation?"

"It will take me several days, sir. But I will be heppy to do it."

"Smashing!" he beamed. "I'll find you an office and get this interweb thing installed for you. Computer and printer. And later this year, we're running field trips into places like the Nevada desert. Nothing terribly exciting, I'm afraid. Just routine surveys, animal head-counts, perhaps collect a few specimens. You've been in deserts before, professionally?"

"Yes, sir. I cen elso teach the necessary informal skills like cemp disciplines end routines. Desert survivel. Es well es those professional skills your students need to develop."

Johanna found she wanted to do this. A trip into the real desert would be fun. And teaching her discipline at university rather than school level would be a professional challenge.

"Good-oh! We'll be taking zoologists, botanists, and some of those rather dull people from Geology. Can't be helped, and this way it spreads the costs. By the way, Doctor Farrah-Fowler from Neuroscience, you know her? She has an interest in the lab animals we breed. Spends a little of her week here, glad to have her. She mentioned to me that she saw you milk venom from a diamondback rattlesnake, is that true? She was very impressed and urged me to take you on in some capacity."

"Yes, sir. I hev en interest in herpetology. While we were in the country on Seturdey, I demonstrated this skill so as to give the people I was with en understending of lerge serpents. Besides, my parent institution esked me for certain semples while I am in the USA. They hev been returned by secure post."

Attleborough smiled broadly.

"Good! Look, I have a budget. I can't yet take you on with an actual wage as such. Would that I could! But I can give you intern status for, say, two months? At least to start with. See how it goes, and all that. We can at least pay necessary expenses. Intern, by the way, is shorthand for "you get worked like a dog and get neither pay nor credit for it"."

Johanna had expected this. It would make it easier for when she had to return to the Discworld. If no binding contract existed, she could not be held to be letting people down when she had to go home again.

"Thet is ecceptible, sir. I hev sufficient resources to support myself in thet period. End I wish to see the Nevada desert."

"Smashing!"

They shook hands.

"I'll get Diana to get cracking on finding you an office." he said. "Damn. Those bloody people in Personnel are going to want to see you. Do you know the woman told me off for calling it "Personnel"? Apparently it goes under the name "Human Resources" now. As if people don't count for much more than the legal pads, the furniture, the offices, or even the bloody Lemon Pledge the cleaners use! You know, just resources. Ah well, what do I know, I'm sixty-three and can't afford to retire. Come on, I'll introduce you to Diana, and get a spare bod to give you the Grand Tour. I'll ask young Amy – nice girl, but a bit odd - to be your professional sponsor, and we're all set."

Johanna decided she was going to like the old man, despite her suspicions of his being a hunter. At least in his youth.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By ten-forty-five, she had completed a brief tour of the life sciences department. She now had written confirmation of her new status, and the efficient and motherly department secretary had assured her an office was spare. Oh, unfortunately the only immediately available office was on a corridor used by those strange people from the Physics department, so there were good reasons why it was empty. But at least she'd have sole use and not have to share.

"I could look for somewhere in a different part of the building for you?" the efficient Diana had said. "The kind of people Physics recruit can get a bit... well, you know... testing... around women. Especially around attractive women. And in the interests of full disclosure, I have to inform you that you get Mr Wolowitz as a near-neighbour. He has calmed down a little since he got married, I have to say. Human Resources only need to interview him about once every three months, now."

"I believe I can cope with thet, Diena. Thenk you."

"Oh, and you have an appointment with Mizz Davies in Human Resources at eleven-fifteen. Nothing to worry about, just an introductory interview for new hires."

Johanna had heard about the concept of Human Resources. Mustrum ridcully had tried to introduce a Human Resources department at the University, thinking it was in keeping with modern go-ahead management principles. It had not been a success. The formidable Mrs Whitlow had complained about having to do her job according to a wretched manual. She, Mrs Whitlow, would carry on hiring and firing as she saw fit without having to continually make arbitrary decisions between informal verbal warning, formal verbal warning, informal written warning, formal written warning, minor misdemeanour, instant dismissal, and the like. And then to open up staff files just to fill in another piece of paper to say she'd delivered the appropriate sanction. She, Mrs Whitlow, knew full well when to merely reprimand her staff and when to kick them out of the door without a reference, thank you very much. If a troll called a dwarf a lawn-ornament and that dwarf then called that troll a rock, then these things normally worked themselves out without excessive need for intervention. If an incautious under-footman attempted to squeeze the bottom of a maid without her consent, then any normal Ankh-Morpork girl was bound to sort it out with a very direct slap, well-directed kick or a punch, without having to invoke sexual harrassment. And if she couldn't and the other girls got to hear of it, they'd sort out the bully on her behalf in a very direct way, with no need for forms to be filled in.(10) And if a girl is bad at her job and requires training, believe me she will get it, Arch-chancellor. And below-stairs at the University remained a ferociously well-run and generally happy workplace, without very much needing to be written down or boxes ticked to prove the fact.

Johanna gathered things were done differently in California. She would soon find out.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Way to go, Ponder!" Leonard said.

"Very impressive." Sheldon agreed.

"I appwove of the decision." said Barry Kripke.

"Just heard President Siebert's on walkabout, guys." Howard warned. "He might be up here. Hey, way to get hired, Ponder! Gotta split. Gotta date with Janine in HR.".

"And he wonders why she calls him in so often." Leonard observed.

"Is that..." Ponder consulted his notes, "A Mizz Janine Davies in Human Resources? I have to see her just after lunch. Apparently her morning schedule's quite heavy." He reflected on the fall-out from Ridcully trying to set up a HR Dept at UU, against all urgent advice not to. Ponder had had to defuse a fizzing Mrs Whitlow. He shuddered.

"The same." confirmed Leonard. "We all get to see her from time to time. Though with you, Ponder, it's just an initial interview. To tell you things about how Caltech runs, what the dispute and disciplinary procedures are, what not to say or do, how to dress, and so on. Routine. Johanna's likely to get the same when Life Sciences take her on. You'll be OK."

Ponder knew about disciplinary processes. Mustrum Ridcully shouted at you for five minutes, very loudly, and then it was all forgiven and forgotten. He sighed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna found her way to HR by just after eleven, resolving to ditch the loathed pantyhose as soon as the last of her formal interviews was over. She had decided this was one Roundworld garment she was not in favour of.

She was not alone in the annex waiting room. Raj Kooprathali was there, sitting as far away from the other inhabitant as he could get, making his aversion very pointed.

"Hi, Raj!" she said, glad to see a familiar face. Raj sighed and took a discreet flask from his inside pocket. Johanna had grasped that the selective mutism thing came and went. He was better round some women than around others. Stress, she had noted, could intensify it.

The other occupant of the waiting room glowered at Raj, but looked uncertainly away from Johanna. She smiled easily at him. He looked away, sheepishly. He was also fairly slightly built and brown-skinned. Possibly around the same age, but it was hard to tell underneath the extravagant black beard and moustache. He was, broadly speaking, dressed in a normal way for California, but also had a hat, or head covering, of some sort. Behind the fierce deep-set eyes she sensed uncertainty.

"My dear Doctor Smith-Rhodes!" Raj said, eventually. "It is always a pleasure to see you, and may I say you brighten up the current rather dreary company considerably?"

The other man, who looked as though he came from more-or-less the same general ethnicity as Raj, scowled at him, but did not speak.

"Hello." she said, to try to lighten the atmosphere. "My name is Johanna Smith-Rhodes. I will be working here in the Zoology end Life Sciences department. I elready know Doctor Kooprathali. You are, perheps, a professional colleague?"

She extended a hand and smiled. After a squirming struggle, the bearded man looked over at Raj with an expression of reluctant appeal, as if he was forced by circumstances to ask for an enemy's charity.

Raj shook his head and passed over the flask.

"This is not a declaration of friendship, you understand. It is a courtesy to Doctor Smith-Rhodes to enable her to speak to you. Although only Brahma knows why!"

The other man took the flask with a nod of acknowledgement, and made a theatrical display of meticulously wiping the rim with a handkerchief, as if an unclean thing had been presented for sterilization. Johanna caught a hint of something sweetly alcoholic as he took a nip. He passed the flask back to Raj with a haughty nod. Thanks may have been in there somewhere. Raj too made a prolonged show of cleaning the parts the other man's lips had touched.

"Dear lady doctor. I am Doctor Ali Mohammed Ahmed. From the Political Science department. I apologise for any discomfort this wretched bloody Hindu may have caused you."

His voice also had overtures of Ghat, she noticed, but was differently accented.

"That's rich, coming from a Pakistani goat-herder!" Raj retorted, hotly. "I tell you, Johanna, the only reason why even the great Mahatma Gandhi did not renounce non-violence and lay one on Panjit Nehru was because he needed to work with these people, to get independence from the bloody British!"

"Oh yes?" Doctor Ali Mohammed Ahmed retorted, stepping forwards. "And just because the British drew the boundaries so badly does not mean the Punjab and Kashmir belong to India! They are sacred Pakistani soil!"

"Never!" Raj exclaimed. "Never! NEVER!"

"Ah, you ignorant Hindu! I study politics, I have a doctorate! If you weren't so stubborn and stupid I could prove it to you!"

Johanna stepped in between them, feeling like a peace-keeping force on a disputed border. Angua von Uberwald had once described stepping in between a warring Dwarf and a troll – Detritus himself – to defuse a fight.

I think being female helped, Johanna. Angua had reflected. I didn't need to get heavy. (11)

Raj and Ali became aware an apparently slightly-built but very attractive woman had stepped in between them. They quietened down. At least a little. Johanna relaxed. Getting heavy – reminding them that Assassins were at least as bad as werewolves if annoyed – was an option she could afford not to deploy. Something more fundamental was working.

"Hmmph." said Raj.

"I see." said Ali.

"Of course, Kashmir is part of India." said Raj.

"Oh yes?" Ali said, menacingly.

"Gentlemen!" Johanna said, loudly as a door opened behind them. "Et home, I see this every time I hev to visit the townships! It is not edifying. There is always violence between different tribal groupings..."

"Well, yes. This Hindu kaffir..."

Johanna boggled as she heard a familiar but ugly word in a different context.

"Kaffir?" she repeated, incredulously. "Raj is a kaffir?" Coloured, obviously. But too light-skinned for even my most insensitive compatriots to call a...

"We'll conclude this business later, Mr Wolowitz." a dry female voice said behind them. "I can see I have other demands on my time."

She turned. And recognised the handsome female jogger from yesterday. From Seco Arroyo park. The one who had seen Johanna in apartheid-era South African national colours. Who had then seen her shaking hands with other old-school South Africans. At a White Supremacist rally. And joining hands with them to sing an old national anthem in Afrikaans.

The woman looked at her. It was not a friendly look.

"You must be Doctor Smith-Rhodes." she said. "Our new hire. From South Africa."

"Hi, Johanna." Howard Wolowitz said. "Just roll with it, huh? Janine's fairer than she looks."

"Howard." Ms Davies said, taking a deep breath. "In a funny way you and me are old friends. We get to spend a lot of face time together. And, although I do not know why, I quite like you. Just... you know. With new freshmen who are away from home for the first time. This institution finds it hard to recruit women to undergraduate engineering courses in the first place. Then the few who come here get to meet you. Just do not make recruitment harder than it has to be, Howard. Thank you."

Howard thanked her.

"Next time, Howard, I ring your wife. Get Bernadette to have a talk with you. You get me?"

Howard winced. Ms Davis dismissed him and turned to matters in hand.

"Doctors Ahmed and Kooprathali, come in. I'll deal with you two first, to save a war erupting in my waiting room."

She glared at Johanna again.

"I will apologise to you, Doctor Smith-Rhodes, for delaying you. As you can see, I'm running a little late."

Johanna waited and gathered her thoughts as loud, firm, and indistinct voices came to her through the closed door.

"Oh, kak." she cursed. It had been such a good morning up until this.

"Hey, Janine's cool." Howard said, sympathetically. "I'll email her for you. Reference you. In my experience people from your country who think the way she thinks you think, well, they also don't like Jews too much. You don't come over as anti-Semitic. Not at all. And we've got good radar on that. We know. I'll de-Nazify her on that."

"Thenks, Howard." she said, as he left. She twitched uncomfortably sticky toes. The inside of the shoes was beginning to feel slippery. This was also delaying the blessed moment when she could slip into a ladies' bathroom and shed the hated pantyhose... although she'd noticed men seemed to appreciate the even sheen and definition they gave to a woman's legs. Ha. Let men wear the verdammte things under a Californian sun, then, see how they like it. And the other sort of sweaty stickiness.

The door eventually opened.

"Do bear in mind that you are guests of a third country." Janine Davies said. There was a hint of weariness in her voice. "One which has no deep historical association with either India or Pakistan. The United States, whatever else it may be perceived to have done as a national entity, is completely blameless for setting the disputed border between your countries. Therefore as a United States citizen and as your employer, I would be deeply thankful if while resident in our country, you observe a ceasefire. Starting now. Doctor Smith-Rhodes?"

"Mizz Davies, I am deeply thankful for your forbearance." Raj said. "But can I emphasise that Doctor Smith-Rhodes, in all the time I've known her, has never made a racialist comment even once?"

Janine Davis sighed.

"Your testimonial is noted, Doctor Kooprathali. But my interview with you is now at an end. Come this way, Doctor Smith-Rhodes."

Johanna entered the office. The door closed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Very pretty girl." said Doctor Ahmed, reflectively.

"I agree. Johanna is not so unattractive herself."

"I meant Doctor Smith-Rhodes!"

"Man, she is ras malai!" Raj said, dreamily.

"Real lakshmai bint." agreed Ali.

"I would not kick her from underneath the punka." Raj added.

There was a pause.

"What about the Ashes series, hey!" Ali Mohammed Ahmed exclaimed.

"Oh my God, five Test Matches to none! The Australians owned their English chuddies!"

"They were made to kiss Australian chuddies, alright. I am looking forward to the Test series with India." Ali said. "Even the Indian team should roll all over the arrogant bloody English."

"Yeah, dude. They think they invented cricket!"

And a sort of peace treaty was signed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Janine Davis maintained an inscrutable face and took her time before speaking. Johanna recognised Intimidation Technique Number One. She used it with her own students, after all.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes." she said, eventually. "You come to us with impeccable credentials. Doctor Attleborough has very strongly reccomended you are hired by Caltech and given full research and assistant tutor credentials with Life Sciences. I can't ignore that. But I have several little reservations."

She frowned at Johanna.

"I saw you yesterday. Several times. I could not ignore the fact you were wearing the national sporting colors of the Republic of South Africa. The old national sporting colors. Which belong to the former government which left office in the year 1994. Almost twenty years ago. Which leads me to the uneasy conclusion that you made a personal decision to ignore the new government and hang on to the previous regime."

"Thet isn't fair, Mizz Davies!" Johanna protested. "Hev you seen the new netionel colours? They're a mess. A multi-cultural..." she paused. "Where had that come from? "A multi-coloured mess. Too meny colours. Jumbled in together with no sense of order."

"Too many colors for your taste." Janine said, flatly. "I see."

She paused again.

"The next time I see you, you are at a White Power rally taking place lower down the park. Being warmly welcomed. And finally you link hands with them and join in singing what I recognised as the old apartheid-era national anthem of South Africa."

"But thet does not imply I em in favour of apartheid." Johanna protested. She thought of Ruth N'Kweze. "I mean, one of my best friends is bleck!"

There was an uneasy pause.

"One of your best friends is black." Janine repeated, flatly.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes, I am attempting very hard indeed to understand you and put your actions in the most positive possible light. Doctor Kooprathali says he knows you and he does not consider you to be a racist. And most of the time he's a reliable witness. And despite the fact a certain word on the proscribed list was used, by you, to two colleagues who count as people of color. I'm more used to hearing another hate word that begins with an "n", Doctor Smith-Rhodes. The "k" word, as it was imported from another country, is an awful lot rarer. But colored people here know what it means."

"I heard Doctor Ahmed use the word." Johanna said. "I repeated it in surprise, es it would be wrong in my country to use it."

"I'm glad you said that, Doctor Smith-Rhodes."

"Because in my country, it is only used to completely bleck native people. Not to coloureds.."

Johanna went red, realising.

Janine gave her a long dissapproving look. Then she glanced down to the papers on her desk

"Doctor Sheldon L. Cooper of the Physics Department also knows you." she said. Johanna thought she detected a slight slumping of Mizz Davies' shoulders. "A propos of nothing, he has emailed me to reassure me you are an extremely capable academic, albeit in what he considers to be the slight science of zoology, and that in his opinion, despite your regrettable tendency to don apartheid-era South African clothing and salute an out-of-date national flag, you are in his opinion one hundred per cent not a racialist or White Supremacist, and that you are in no way at all sympathetic to Adolf Hitler and the Nazi party."

Johanna winced. Leonard had hinted that Sheldon did try to be helpful and what almost passed for a heart was in pretty much the right place.

"I know Sheldon Cooper." Janine said. This time she did shudder. "I'm aware he needs special consideration. I have learnt, often painfully, to read the differences between what he appears to do and what he actually intends. And you're not just living in the same apartment block as him, you're on the same floor?"

For the first time, Janine Davis looked sympathetic.

"You associate socially with Doctor Cooper and his set. That, to me, explains a lot. Now let me explain a few things to you..."

Johanna heard, at great length, about racial awareness and sensitivity, how it was central to Caltech's mission statement, how breaches were sanctioned, about how she, Ms Davies, understood that not all white South Africans were racially discriminatory redneck oafs, but could sometimes slip up even with the best of intentions.

"I deal with brilliant scientific minds. This university wishes, insofar as it's practicable, to retain them. Dismissal is therefore a very last resort. You are to be employed here as a part of this community of brilliant scientific minds. But because of the risk of lawsuits involving those brilliant minds, there has to be a HR department to guide and steer them appropriately. So to cover us all, I propose this."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna eventually found the canteen, and staggered to the table the boys had occupied and were loudly calling her to.

"Hot gal. At our table." Howard said. "Everyone's looking."

She dropped the armload of binders and folders Janine Davis had issued her with.

"Hot damn, dude." Raj said. Leonard whistled.

"Janine's given you all the classes?" Howard said. "At once? Took me a year to manage that!"

"Sexual harrassment awareness. Racial sensitivity awareness. Politically correct language. Cultural groups and ethnicities of the United States. The USA for overseas students. Disability awareness. Health and safety awareness." Leonard said, reading the titles. There were more.

There was a pause.

Then everybody stretched out a hand to Johanna.

"Welcome to Caltech!" Sheldon said, speaking for them all.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1) Really true. A NASA intern got to find out where they kept the hoarded space rock from all the Apollo missions. He also found out how much geology collectors are prepared to pay for it. He then did some imaginative thinking to connect the two ideas. Johanna would be amused when Penny recommended she read up about it. The Guild of Thieves would have been proud. See the account Sex on the Moon: The Amazing Story Behind the Most Audacious Heist in History which details how excommunicated Mormon Thaddeus Roberts and girlfriend Tiffany Fowler raided a NASA vault and nicked a few billion dollars worth of moon rock...

2) Lucy had shyly shown off her art. Johanna had been really amused to see herself depicted in chibi style, a small sweet-looking gonky figure, albeit one with access to lots of sharp edges. Lucy had also drawn her in manga style, with delicate features, big round eyes, girlish slender figure, and an unfeasibly long sharp heavy blade. Ponder Stibbons had come out as a little-boy Harry Potter in slightly over-large robes. Johanna had recommended giving him a staff and not a magic wand. Then it would be perfect.

3) The Inklings, a literary club composed of Oxford dons who wrote fantasy and science-fiction for a hobby. British universities do not have fraternities or sororities in the American sense. My own suspicion is that Britain is class-conscious in a way the United States is not. People appear to be so innately aware of their own place in the social order and all the subtle fine-tuned nuances that go with it, that they instinctively socialise with people from incredibly similar backgrounds – the "frat system" is un-necessary because we have the built-in homing instinct that "filters out" people from vastly above or below our own social grouping. We already think we know where we belong and largely we stay there. This also appears to be the way the governing élite, the political, intellectual and opinion-forming class, maintains itself – there's always going to be an "in" group and an "out" group and frankly if you don't already "belong" to it at eighteen, it's too late.(4) The élite recognise their own and they select you. "Frats", to an extent, are built-in. The USA is a nation that doesn't appear to have its collective head stuck that far up its own arse, as regards social class. But people sort themselves out into peer groups by joining frats. The most prestigious frats then bung on a skull ring, and however thick, or dense, or a member of the Bush family you are – once you're selected from the amorphous pool of freshmen, you're in for life and eventually end up running a country. Which makes America a bit more democratic and meritocratic than Great Britain... although being a Bush helps, I guess...

4) At least nine people I knew by name, and who knew me by name, have gone on from the two universities I attended to become Members of Parliament (in one case a Lady in the House of Lords), Members of the European Parliament, or else highly-placed and influential background wonks in the two major political parties. (whose names appear on political blogs and big heavy articles in the smart Sunday papers). Note the distinction – you may meet these people and be on first name terms with them, and you may be able to say "hello" to them if you meet them twenty-odd years later, without being blanked. But unless you're in the right set, that's as far as it goes... the British social élite do not need frat badges or skull rings to recognise their own. They've belonged to the right frat since birth!

5) One of the eight Orders of Wizardry, which, after that unfortunate business with the Sourceror, aren't all that politically active, have declined in importance, and these days fulfil the role of frats combined with Freemasonic associations for graduate members. The Illuminated Brethren of Midnight had begun as an attempt to combine Wizardry with transferable Assassin skills – ie, how to get back in after Lights Out whilst remaining invisible to Bledlows- but these days was more of a drinking and social club.

6) Lords and Ladies, by Terry Pratchett.

7) This really happened. Hawking took a residency at Caltech in the hope the clement California weather would at least mitigate his condition. But it worsened to the point where he needed a wheelchair all the time. Caltech's engineering department volunteered to build him one. Motorised wheelchairs were quite new at the time, even in the USA. Unfortunately for Hawking, the engineering team built everything on, that they thought might come in even remotely useful. This upset the centre of balance so much that it became dangerously unstable. The very first time Hawking tried to use it, the whole thing went forward about six inches and then fell over backwards. Given the TBBT episode where Howard is tasked with servicing The Wheelchair but can't figure out where everything goes and ends up with bits left over (he gives them to Sheldon for souvenirs), you wonder. Was the engineer in this case related to Howard in some way?

8) But he clearly remembered Adrian Turnipseed now worked at Brazeneck College, Pseudopolis. On the Discworld. And their joint research had indeed concerned a Cabinet of Curiosities and its peculiar topology when folded and unfolded. Recursive folding receding according to quantum levels and infinity had been a part of it.

9) Attleborough is a bucolic little country town in Norfolk. Attenborough is the renowned TV wildlife man and National Treasure.

10) Readers of Terry Pratchett's Unseen Academicals will be reminded of Night Kitchen manager Glenda Sugarbean and her wholly non-threatening and unintimidating way with kitchen knives around a bullying Bledlow, who was pushing his luck a bit and overstaying his welcome. Mrs Whitlow had informally heard about this and had tutted dissaprovingly. But had also marked Glenda down as one to watch, for all the right reasons. It also avoided paperwork.

11) See Men At Arms, by Terry Pratchett.

One day I intend to write a fic where the footnotes are longer than the fic itself. Getting there.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This episode's soundtrack:

Pick any one from:

The Bangles: Manic Monday

The Boomtown Rats: I don't like Mondays

The Mamas And the Papas: Monday, Monday

All about depressing things on a Monday morning, up to and including somebody going postal and taking a gun to her school.

EDIT: checked and genuine typos eradicated. Also trying hard to have American characters using American English consistently - ie, Janine Davies refers to issues of "color" whilst Johanna smith-Rhodes uses British/South African English "colour".

The k-word. In the old South Africa, the word "kaffir" was not... well, nice. The South African Dutch settlers heard it from Arab slave traders they encountered, who used it as a justification for taking slaves. They were "kaffirs", which the Boers heard as a word attached to and descriptive of black Africans. But the Arabic word "kaffir" comes from the Islamic religion and has nothing to do with the social status of black-skinned people. what the arab slavers were really saying was "It would be a sin against Allah and the Prophet to enslave fellow Moslems. So we only take "kafirs" - heretics, unbelievers, followers of false religions." The word is still used in this sense in the Islamic hegemony. The Pakistani Moslem, Ali, is firing a deadly insult at the Indian Hindu, Raj. Johanna heard it according to her interpretation of the word. And more humorous confusion and misunderstanding ensued.

Podcast NOW AVAILABLE on You-Tube! Look for my YT identity of Pragmatist23.

Chapter 16: The Band-Aid Knowledge Deficiency

More Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

We're back with the latest thrilling instalment© Chuck Lorré Productions, to Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain.

Possible titles (feel free to devise your own: PM me with them? Namechecks will be given)

this is your author speaking! Thank you for the reviews, much appreciated. As I seem to be on a roll with this one, may I say there is NOW AN OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK to this fic? (1)

FF won't let me post a link - rats. But go to You-Tube, u-Tube, et c, and look for my other identity of Pragmatist23. There is a playlist of all songs (so far) that directly or indirectly get referenced here. You may like at least SOME of them. "Soft Kitty" is in there too, performed by Kaley Cuoco-Sweeting (Penny). Thank you.

A short one to get back into the story again. A little, or not so little, complication presented by Doctor Leslie Winkle emerges.

Monday into Tuesday:

Johanna had been only too pleased to remove the wretched verdammte pantyhose, peeling them off in the privacy of a ladies' bathroom. She binned the things decisively, and rejoiced in the feeling of cool air on her bare legs and feet. Using the ample toilet paper to mop and dry the insides of her shoes, she looked down disapprovingly at the sweat-stains her feet were leaving on the tiled floor. Normally she wore socks with boots; putting her bare feet directly into shoes was new to her, and something she considered she'd rather not do. Checking nobody else was around, she left the cubicle and walked over to the sinks, the shoes carried in one hand.

Oh hell, this isn't going to be ladylike, but nothing for it...

She hauled up the skirt, lifted her leg, and dropped her foot in the bowl of the sink. She had to lift the skirt quite a long way for this. A bit of fiddling with the controls, not taps here but faucets, generated clean and pleasantly warm water. She allowed it to run over her foot and sighed happily, cleaning between her toes where she knew excessive sweating could cause the sort of avoidable problems she would shout at a student Assassin for. Besides, she didn't want to go around with stinky feet. Californians had very high standards of personal hygiene. It would be noticed.

Another awkward dance and more hitching of the skirt on the other side allowed her to change feet. She was cleaning and washing the other foot when the bathroom door opened; she had been willing it to stay closed.

Thus she was caught, one foot on the ground, one raised and in the sink, the skirt hitched almost round her waist, when Doctor Leslie Winkle walked in. She blinked once through her round glasses, then nodded.

"Ah-huh. Pantyhose sweat, huh? Been there. Done that. Got the rash."

Johanna flushed red, then grinned sheepishly. Leslie remained impassive, but Johanna sensed sympathy and understanding.

"You get to dress however you like from tomorrow. Just so long as you don't go the Professor Rothman route. Then I hear you got assigned an unpopular office. Last woman who got that office lasted three days. You do a Rothman there, you might get away with it. Got powder?"

Leslie provided a plastic container of pleasantly smelling talcum powder, then excused herself to use a cubicle. She wondered what Professor Rothman had done. Academia, in her experience of Unseen University, was capable of some very eccentric things. She sensed this place was capable of competing for the Oddest Academic Award and wondered if it was universal. Or in this case multiversal. She then focused on the problem of drying her feet. Ag. No towels.

Lifting her foot out of the washbasin and patting her skirt down, she assessed the drying problem. There was some sort of box on the wall with a nozzle. Experimentation showed it to be a sort of hot-air blower of the sort that almost but not quite got her hands dry. It was like being breathed on by a swamp dragon that was running out of fuel, but not as smelly. The nozzle was too far off the ground for feet, unless she could hold a kick-boxing position for thirty seconds. Johanna wondered who designed such verdammte stupid things, and how painfully they had died. Her mind added a few prejudicially agonising endings. She sighed, and let her feet dry naturally. At least Leslie Winkle had seen the problem and had performed a "this is the ladies room and we're all in it together" sort of little kindness with the talcum powder. She liberally dusted the inside of the shoes, knowing or hoping the powder would transfer itself to her feet. The backs of the new leather shoes were also beginning to painfully rub her ankles just at the point where the achilles tendon met her heel. She frowned, aware she was going to get a blister there; used to different footwear and having had all the blisters in all the usual positions, she reflected on new shoes, new places to become painfully uncomfortable.

"Put these on." Leslie Winkle said, returning. She offered two Band-Aids.

"Back of the ankle where the shoes are rubbing. You ain't used to formal, huh? I try and avoid it."

"Thenk you." Johanna said. She assessed the clever little wound dressings. The protective tape peels off a sterile pad and you apply them just so, over the slight wound. Adhesive holds them to the skin. So clever.

Leslie smiled slightly.

"You know, for a moment there I thought you'd never seen a Band-Aid before." she remarked. "You gotta have them in South Africa, right?"

"Sometimes, a simple end clever device seems so elegant thet you heve to stop end eppreciate it." Johanna said, thinking quickly. "You forget they hed to be invented once by a clever mind."

And the wound dressing at her heel made the shoes so much easier to wear. Style has its price, she thought to herself.

They left the ladies' room together.

"The guys and Doctor Dumb-Ass get too much for you, you can always apply for an office transfer." Leslie said, conversationally. "It's kinda expected from any woman academic who draws that corridor. You'd get priority. Anyway, I hear Harry Ponder-Stibbons got allocated there too. You guys known each other for long? He's sorta cute."

Johanna controlled her temper with a mighty effort. This woman is being a friend to me, she reminded herself. She has offered practical help and is willing to carry on doing so. And she does not yet know about me and Ponder.

Johanna sheathed the metaphorical dagger.

"We hev been close for some time now, ja." she replied politely, hoping Leslie would get the inference and she would not have to spell it out loud.

"Ah. Close close?" Leslie replied.

"Close." Johanna said, emphatically.

Leslie Winkle said nothing. Johanna was not reassured.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder Stibbons relaxed at the desk in the spacious and so far scarcely furnished office. Howard Wolowitz had offered to help him set up the computer and printer; he took a keen interest in how it all fitted together and where the plugs, wires and connections went. Knowing only the byzantine complexity that made up the mainframe for HEX, he was deeply fascinated with how compact it all was and how so much processing power could be fitted into so small a space. He also hoped for some in-depth training in using it all. He had been able to glean a little from the computers used by Leonard and Sheldon in the apartment, and he understood the principles of inputting via a keyboard, even how to send an email, with the assistance of HEX. But so much else here was unfamiliar to him.

He knew there was more than one way to run a thinking engine. Ponder had seen the Royal Bank's economics engine, the Glooper, which was hydraulically run. HEX and the Glooper had linked up via an interface that he and Hubert Turvy had jointly designed; the Bank's thinking machine, linked to HEX, was now showing signs of developing a personality of its own and both engines were connecting and talking to each other through a spider-driven interweb or fishingnet kind of technomancy. Johanna was helping to breed the spiders, which scuttled constantly on the web linking HEX's Bank terminal to the Glooper. The Bank's Igor delighted in maintaining the webs – it was the sort of thing that was right up his crypt – and took a keen personal interest in the arachnids. So Ponder was also aware of the general concept of the Internet. He looked forward to discovering more. (1)

"All set, Ponder." Howard said. "Everything's optimised. I've worked in a back-door Internet portal that the guys in IT can't monitor and don't know is there. Spares you getting called into Janine's office for the chat about inappropriate downloading, huh? You don't want that little chat."

Ponder grinned. He'd found Janine Davis to be businesslike and pleasant, although she'd raised an eyebrow at Ponder's living, at least temporarily, as a guest in Sheldon Cooper's apartment.

"Move out as soon as you can, Professor Ponder-Stibbons." she had advised him. "I read you as being too... normal.... to stay there for very long. We can help with lists of approved places to stay and vetted landlords and letting agencies."

Janine had made a gnomic comment about Ponder being a refreshingly sane hire by the standards of Physics and hoped he wouldn't go native, and he had left, feeling that she somehow approved of him.

Ponder felt uncomfortably hot in the dress suit. He rubbed a finger round the inside of the collar. He envied Howard Wolowitz for he casual jeans and t-shirt look.

"You can dress normally tomorrow." Howard assured him. "Dress code is normally what you like, so long as you don't go the Professor Rothman route."

"And that is?"

Howard grinned.

"Long story, Ponder. Let's just say there wasn't a rule against it. Not till afterwards."

He watched as Howard booted up the computer. It flashed into life.

"All set." Howard remarked. "Normally it takes a week to get passwords and email protocols set up, but I've bypassed IT and loaded you into the database for the Calnet internal mail and IM systems. What passwords do you wanna use? It'll go straight in as though IT loaded it themselves. Spares time."

Ponder opted to use Technomancer as his password. Howard grinned.

"Straight outta Mystic Warlords of Ka'a. Easily remembered. I like that!"

++Good afternoon, Ponder++Howard++

Howard jumped.

"Don't do that, HEX. It scares the life outta me!"

++I apologise.++I now have a presence in Caltech's computer systems.++I can go anywhere, read anything.++The IT department will not be aware of me, and I will be present to guide both you and Johanna++

"Ah. Speaking of Johanna. I gotta run and set her computer up. She'll be three doors down the corridor, Ponder." Howard said, excusing himself.

Ponder waited until Howard had left, then he said

"HEX? Please can you provide me with a tutorial in using Microsoft Office?"

An animated icon, Ponder assumed a demon of some sort, appeared on the screen. It looked like a sprite made out of paperclips. A speech bubble formed.

++Hello!++For the purposes of this training session I will take the form of Mr Clippy++Although I will endeavour to be infinitely more helpful and useful than the primitive original stored to this system, which I gather has caused people to throw their monitors out of high windows in sheer frustration.++ Please click on the icon for Word.++ We will begin there.++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna retreated to her new office thankfully. Her hands still itched to garotte Leslie Winkle, even though the woman had been most friendly and helpful. She took a few calming breaths, reminded herself she'd felt this way, and with more cause, about Lucy Tockley, and hoped Leslie had got the clear and unambiguous message.

Then she found herself working with Howard on assembling the computer – the man could not have been more helpful, and Johanna appreciated this. The rest of the day took a course rather like Ponder's, with HEX introducing himself from the computer and offering his guidance as to how to use it. She considered the print-outs Professor Attleborough had given her to translate, and with HEX's assistance navigated to the original site. She toggled the screen so that the pages were in English and not Afrikaans, and set them to print. She wondered how computer-illiterate somebody had to be not to realise a South African website would offer you its material in more than one official language. I'm from another planet and I can work that out. Ah well, she could release them to him in small batches over the next week, which freed her day up for other things. Reluctantly, she took a look at some of the punishment courses Janine Davis had assigned her to. If she could clear this pappiekack dreck (3)quickly... hadn't Howard and Leonard said they'd had to do the lot?

A knock at the door turned out to be Leonard Hofstadter, bringing her a mug of coffee.

"Hi." he said, awkwardly. "Settling in?"

"Thenk you, Leonard!" she said, warmly. "Perheps you cen help with these?"

She indicated the pile of punishment she'd got from Janine. He grinned.

"Can't believe you got everything. And on your first day. I won't ask what you said to annoy her."

"Ag. Here I'm white end South Efrican. In meny respects thet was enough. She considered I em in desperate need of re-educating. I said things thet in retrospect should not hev been said in front of somebody with a bleck skin. Not thet insult was intended."

"And you get Racial Sensitivity and Ethnic Awareness." Leonard said, sympathetically. He picked the folder up. "This one you have to sit in an actual classroom with other people. But some of these others we can do online. Computer tallies the scores, and if you get a pass mark you're off the hook. Wanna clear a couple out the way? I've done most of these."

With Leonard's tutoring, she cleared three short courses with very good marks. At his prompting, she checked her email. Leonard whistled.

"So they're assigning you students already?"

"Ja." she said, looking at the list of names she was expected to meet and mentor. "First year freshmen, I am essuming not long out of High School. I must find out whet they are expected to know end whet they hev been learning in their time here. If they are deficient, it is my tesk to ensure they are of en eccepted stenderd."

"You can find entry requirements and course outlines on the N-drive." Leonard said. "Just here on the blue screen. Go to Life Sciences and click... there you are."

"Do you deal with students, Leonard?" she asked. "I em more used to working in school end not a University."

"I get classes now and again." Leonard admitted. "Usually I get to lecture them forty or fifty at a time. I talk, they take notes and ask questions. Sometimes they come in smaller groups for practicals and demonstrations. But to be honest, most of us avoid teaching, as it gets in the way of research."

Johanna smiled, thinking of the Wizard faculty at Unseen. Some things, in higher academia, were universal.

"Normally I do not get the opportunity to evoid them." she said. "My working day is normally full of clesses. But these days I hev teaching essistents who cen cover some clesses for me. It frees me for other tesks."

She thought again of her life on the Discworld and HEX's assurance he could return them there on the same morning, within seconds of their having left. She trusted this: it meant her absence from the School would not even be noticed. She looked down at her hands and forearms. It occurred to her that a sudden CaliforniaN tan, seemingly acquired overnight, was going to need explaining. Ankh-Morpork had been wet and grey and cold when they'd left.

With a last request to "treat them gently, Johanna, they're only just out of High School, there's a reason why they're called Freshmen." Leonard left to attend to other tasks. Johanna sighed and set about reading what was expected of freshmen Caltech students with regard to zoology and ecology.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder Stibbons too had been allocated a group of freshmen. He sighed. Still, it wouldn't be too different from dealing with undergraduate student Wizards in the HEM. He was used to that. He'd also asked HEX to find course outlines and lesson plans so he could prepare for teaching what they were expected to know. He wondered how well he could deliver it; but with HEX to assist, he suspected he'd be word-perfect on the day. It was just a case of recasting the knowledge he had into a form that would be accepted on this planet. And tutoring students would be the litmus test of how well he would fit on this world...

++A little complication has arisen, Ponder++ HEX said. He was suddenly alert.

"Please explain, HEX?"

++It involves Johanna.++ I have been advising her, and she has explained about an encounter she had with Doctor Leslie Winkle.++ I have researched Doctor Winkle's background and aptitudes.++ You encountered her earlier?++

Ponder recalled the confident woman with the frizzy hair, big round glasses, and the disconcertingly intelligent face that made him wonder if she were descended from some some sort of inquisitive and adaptive higher rodent. (5) He also remembered her alleged cheerfully casual attitude to coitus and Sheldon Cooper's urgent advice to him not to get too close.

"Go on, HEX."

++She is quite markedly intelligent.++She is a keen observer and has a great curiosity about people.++ I fear she is noticing things about Johanna that would pass other people by on this world.++Little tell-tales, small incongruous things, such as the fact it took Johanna a surprisingly long time to work out the purpose of a Band-Aid.++

Ponder looked puzzled.

++A Band-Aid is a small portable wound dressing used for slight injuries and minor wounds, such as blisters.++It is un-known on the Discworld.++ But they are everyday and commonplace on this planet.++

Ponder sighed.

"And she hesitated for just a little too long?"

++Enough for Doctor Winkle to remark on it.++I suspect she has the sort of mind that will collate these little oddities and that she may, independently, arrive at the accurate conclusion you are not all you seem to be.++There is a seventy-three per cent probability she will eventually work out, by herself, that the two of you are Visitors from another world.++

"And what would you recommend, HEX?"

++Doctor Winkle is a semi-detached member of the 2311 North Los Robles set. She is known to all the people who have accepted you and are aware of the Secret.++It may become necessary to incorporate her into what Bernadette is referring to as the group "pinky-swear".++ This could be problematical, as both Bernadette and Penny are suspicious of her motives around their men and do not trust her.++Also, she makes Sheldon Cooper even more insecure and anxious than normal.++Sheldon and Leslie are not friends.++I will monitor her computer activity to keep aware of any thoughts she expresses concerning you and Johanna.++ It goes without saying that you should not become too close to her.++I urgently counsel against this.++She represents a Random Factor who requires careful handling.++

Ponder sighed. Fortunately Leonard knocked on the door asking if he'd like to see some of the research labs. Happy for a distraction, he went with the guys. He could also broach the subject of Leslie wWnkle and ask their advice. If she wasn't tagging along, that was.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"At the heart of Caltech is its Honor Code, the principle that has guided and defined campus life since Caltech's earliest days. It states, "No member of the Caltech community shall take unfair advantage of any other member of the Caltech community." This code of ethics guides the entire campus community of students, staff, and faculty."  (4)

There was a knock on the office door. Johanna was glad of the distraction. Reading things on a glowing screen was new to her and her eyes were beginning to feel dry and uncomfprtable.

"Hi, new bezzie! I'm so pleased they hired you!"

It was Amy Farrah-Fowler. Johanna was genuinely pleased to see her, and the two hugged happily. Compared to the Winkle woman, Amy is an uncomplicated person and a genuine friend. With no hankering after Ponder. She may be a little odd, but ag, that's normal for this Caltech place.

"Do you want to come and see the animal facility? You can meet some of my monkeys!" Amy declared.

"Ja, I would love to!" Johanna replied. It gives me a chance to teach her about the monkey-ape thing. She needs to know when not to use the m-word. And who not to use it to.

They left together for a tour of Amy's apes. And the true monkeys.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) HEX, Ponder and Hubert were experimenting with a more aquatic link to the Glooper, given that the Bank's system was a water-based one. On the premise that a liquid interface would be more compatible to the Glooper's working mechanism, their thinking was inclined towards a literal  fishing net, through which the seemingly random movements of fish, crabs, and lobsters would be communicated to HEX. (A machine who did not use water to operate and whose systems were, if anything, dependent on creatures of earth and air). There were also exciting possibilities concerning use of amphibians; but Ponder wanted to start with crabs running up and down an interfacing beach between the two and to see how that went. Johanna had suggested an aquatic analog to the bees and ants used by HEX might be Mictyris Guinotae, the soldier crab, a gregarious social species that tended to form swarms. (2)

(2) A prototype computer-like structure has in fact been built which is driven by soldier crabs. It has a long way to go before becoming complex enough to rival conventional PC's, but the idea shows promise. Google on Lucy Black and "A Crab-Based Computer". There is also an add-on program for Javascript which is called "Shellfish". Hmmm.

(3) A far stronger word in Dutch/Afrikaans. It means "sloppy shit". So you may now use "poppycock" as a swear word. You're welcome.

(4) Taken directly from Caltech's own website; which dissappointingly doesn't seem to mention ''The Big Bang Theory'' even once. Out of artistic licence and necessity I have given the Caltech in this phase of the Roundworld a Zoology and Natural History department; while the real thing definitely has physics, it doesn't seem to have animal work very much.

(5) Ponder Stibbons shared some of Johanna Smith-Rhodes' speculations about variant evolution. The idea that some humans were not ape-descended and in fact were humanoid expressions of other branches of the Tree of Life made instinctive sense to him. The Senior Wrangler's long equine face suggested horse-descent; the old Dean Henry might have had wild boar in his evolutionary ancestry; and the Arch-Chancellor suggested some sort of proto-grizzly bear lurked in that part of his ancestry where Charles Darwin had postulated a common ancestor with apes.

Chapter 17: The Orang-Utan Classification Fallacy

More Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana)

We're back with the latest thrilling instalment© Chuck Lorré Productions, to Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain.

Possible titles (feel free to devise your own: PM me with them? Namechecks will be given)

The Orang-Utan Classification Fallacy

this is your author speaking! Thank you for the reviews, much appreciated. As I seem to be on a roll with this one, may I say there is NOW AN OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK to this fic?


FF won't let me post a link - rats. But go to You-Tube, u-Tube, et c, and look for my other identity of Pragmatist23. There is a playlist of all songs (so far) that directly or indirectly get referenced here. You may like at least SOME of them. "Soft Kitty" is in there too, performed by Kaley Cuoco-Sweeting (Penny). Thank you.

Monday into Tuesday: late Monday afternoon.

Ponder Stibbons watched the laser demonstration with some interest. The power of the device enthralled him and the way the power could be directed with pinpoint accuracy was exciting. All in all, it seemed oddly appropriate that all it was doing was heating up a cup of coffee. Wizards at Unseen University had used powerful spells for similar trivial purposes. He felt very much at home here.

"What do you think, Harry?" Leslie Winkle said, proudly, as she offered him a cup of coffee. It was hot. A few seconds before it had been stone cold.

Impressive." Ponder said. He'd once witnessed Messinger's Wonderful Focus in action. It had created a similar ray of powerful ruby light, right up until the moment the lab had caught fire.

"Of course, it uses up enough energy to power a small office block." Sheldon Cooper observed. "For myself, I would have used the microwave."

Leslie Winkle paused and looked down her nose at him.

"Would drinking coffee make you more normal, Dumb-Ass?" she inquired. She scrutinised him for a moment. "No. Too late. Shoulda started when you were six or seven. Harry, this is great for instant ramen too!"

Ponder was about to ask what "instant ramen" were, then stopped. He reminded himself to be careful around her. If he'd been born on Roundworld, he should know these things. And HEX had warned him Leslie was observant enough to notice and smart enough to draw the right conclusion. But what the Hells were ramen?

Leonard Hofstadter looked at Ponder and then at Leslie.

"Harry's English, Leslie." he reminded her. "They got a different word for instant ramen over there."

"Indeed!" Sheldon piped up. "In the humorous BBC television series Red Dwarf, Dave Lister, a man who shares his city of birth with the Beatles, was faced with a dilemma when stranded in a crashed spacecraft with the hologram of Arnold Rimmer, several months away from rescue, with limited food resources. I believe he had a tube of Bonjella mouth ulcer ointment, a can of dog food, and something called a Pot Noodle. I had to look up "pot noodle" on an Internet slang dictionary, but when I realised that is the British term for "Instant Ramen", it made his subsequent decision to eat the dog food that much clearer!"

Ah. It's a foodstuff. But in the context it has to do with a Dibbler sausage-inna-bun, or perhaps Dwarf Bread. And Leonard saw the problem and covered for me. I can use this "being English in America" thing to cover up any lapses. Thanks, Leonard.

"Pot Noodles. Ah." Ponder said, feigning understanding. He decided to push his luck, based on his own student years of limited money combined with an inconvenient need to eat. "Used to eat them all the time as an undergraduate!"

"You kinda get a taste for them." Leslie agreed. "Cheap chow when money's short. Want one? I got chicken and mushroom, Thai noodle, beef and tomato..."

Ponder concealed his surprise at the novelty of a plastic pot full of dehydrated Agatean-looking noodles with a dry powder flavour, that magically reconstituted when water was added and brought to the boil. In this case by a powerful laboratory laser that Sheldon bemoaned was using enough power to drive a train to Santa Barbara. Leslie obligingly set up an afternoon snack for Ponder, Leonard and Howard. Sheldon declined, sniffily saying he valued his sense of taste.

Suspecting the important thing had been demonstrating the laser, Ponder tried the ramen. While he suspected the plastic pot might have more actual nutritional value, and that the contents bore as much resemblence to real Agatean – Chinese – noodles as a Dibbler sausage did to meat, they had one thing in common with a Dibbler sausage-inna-bun: you couldn't believe what you were eating but you still wanted to eat it.

And the laser fascinated him. He knew Leonard of Quirm was doing something similar with directed sunlight; Light Arrayed through Sapphires, Emeralds and Rubies. Seeing how far Roundworld was advanced on the same path was eye-opening, even through the protective goggles. He ate, appreciating the taste, and wondered how Johanna was getting on.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caltech's animal handling areas were distributed around various parts of the campus. Johanna could tell by the definite smell in the air that the university had decided it was most prudent to house its breeding colonies of primates in its most outlying areas. She understood this: her own Animal Management Unit was on a separate site to the main school at least in part for this reason, and the Zoo was right on the fringes of an ever-growing city.

She also understood from her brief introduction to the Department that accredited students and researchers got free passes to the Los Angeles City Zoo. She really wanted to see how Roundworld went about curating and managing its zoo animals. The L.A. Zoo was high on her list of places of interest to visit.

"Entomology?" she asked Amy, as they passed a sign pointing downwards to a basement. Amy shrugged. Insects only interested her for their brains and nervous systems.

"That's Professor Crawley's department." she explained. "You will find he's called "Creepy". For good reasons. Johanna, that's a guy with issues. He's cranky."

Johanna gathered that Profesor Crawley was an academic even other Caltech people – and Amy Farrah-Fowler - thought was a bit odd. She noted this for further consideration. She recalled that Diana, the motherly and sympathetic department administrator, had warned her Crawley could be hard to deal with. Even by Caltech's standards. Although she'd have quite appreciated the detour, she decided to leave the study of insects, arachnia and lower arthropods for another day. Amy wasn't keen to go there, and that rang a warning bell.

The chattering of primates, growing ever-louder, relaxed Johanna. She was completely at home here. She had studied apes and monkeys in her native Howondaland, and then bred many species at the AMU, as well as befriending the Librarian. She knew how to deal with chimpanzees and gorillas on their own terms and wasn't immune to the wide-eyed baby-like appeal of marmosets and lemurs. Even so, seeing orang-utans in captivity was a shock to her. They were the one animal she had ruled that the Ankh-Morpork City Zoo was never, ever going to acquire under any circumstances. (1)

But she was still shocked. The facility she saw had something in common with her own Animal Management Unit, in that animals were kept and bred here for study and research. Even so, the emphasis was on cages and not habitats. She could see no obvious signs of active maltreatment, but the cages were too small, they were too bare, and they were indoors under artificial light. She took a deep breath.

"Well, what do you think?" Amy said, proudly. "Monkeys. Twelve different species!"

She proudly indicated a sad looking orang-utan that was sitting passively in a corner of its cage. Two others were half-heartedly grooming each other. There were others, including infants and juveniles. Johanna had only ever directly encountered one orang before. Seeing them in a group was a different experience.

"Do they get eccess to daylight?" Johanna asked. "Exercise? Mental stimulation?"

Amy looked puzzled for an instant. Johanna looked disbelievingly around her. Her mind raced.

Do not get angry, Johanna. Explain why keeping higher animals like this is not a good thing. Seek to persuade. Spend your time here doing some good.

"Describe to me their diet." she said. "How are they fed?"

Do not bring the Librarian here. The old man would get angry. And an angry Librarian is not a creature I would try to pacify.

Two Caltech students were moving between the cages tending to the animals. Johanna recognised the signs of students low on the academic totem pole who had been assigned dogsbody chores.

"You, and you." Johanna said, curtly. "Introduce yourselves, end explain to me your purpose."

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes is from the APES faculty of Witwatersrand University in South Africa." Amy said, making the introductions. "She will be working with us here at Caltech."

"Ja." Johanna said. "End I cen see thet there are chenges I cen introduce here. But for the moment I will not be too hasty. I wish to observe end learn more ebout the enimel menegement culture here."

She spoke to the two students, assessing them as in their late teens, young, enthusiastic and eager to please. This eased her racing mind a little; she could work on people like this and give them a better appreciation of humane animal management. Maybe change the culture, leave behind a different way of thinking. Invest in the future.

"I find orangs difficult to work with." Amy said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "They can be unpredictable and hostile. It doesn't help that popular films and television series, such as Every Which Way But Loose, anthropomorphised them as almost human beings with all-over red hair. It made them, in the public eye, more than mere monkeys."

Johanna winced.

"Right turn, Clyde!" one of the students said, mysteriously.

She felt a definite chill in the air and slowly turned to see several sets of unblinking orang-utan eyes were focused on Amy in a very unfriendly and horribly familiar way.

"Amy." Johanna said, slowly and deliberately. "I like you. We are, I think, friends. Et this point I feel it is time for a little chet. Es between friends. There is something you really, really, need to know. You two elso."

She took Amy and the two students out into the corridor. Some minutes later they returned.

"If you feel it will help." Amy Farrah-Fowler said, uncertainly. She took a deep breath and addressed the orang-utans.

"I feel kinda dumb talking to you like this." she said. "But Doctor Smith-Rhodes assures me it is necessary, and I bow to her greater expertise in these things."

Amy turned and looked at Johanna, who nodded.

"I regret that in my past interactions with you, I appear to have got off on the wrong foot by addressing you as mon... using the M-Word."

She looked again at Johanna, who said

"Trust me. This is vitally important."

Amy continued.

"I now realise you would very much prefer to be described and addressed as apes. I apologise for past misunderstandings and I hope we can now put this behind us. Thank you."

The orangs looked gravely at her.

"Now offer them benanas." Johanna said. "Es a peace offering. One each. Thenk you, Doctor Farrah-Fowler."

There was a distinct easing of human-ape tensions. Johanna nodded to one of the students.

"Open thet cage. Thenk you."

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes, is that wise?"

Johanna smiled, tried to adjust her mind to orang-utan, and said "Oook?" She hoped the orangs on this planet could speak Librarian. As it turned out, they spoke quite a good dialect.

"ook-a-ook ook oook ook -a OOK!"

Johanna raised a hand to get them to slow down. As she'd expected, it was a litany of complaints about life in captivity, the cages too small, cleaned not nearly often enough, being made to do strange things at the behest of Human She-Thing, Not Quite All There, She Who Till Recently Used The M-Word, She Who Other Humans Consider Strange, lack of access to tall trees, cooped up in small metal boxes, although the bananas were good quality, you had to give them that, living with bonobos next door lowering the tone of the neighborhood, dirty little jerk-offs, and generally being bored out of our tiny skulls, you're intelligent for a human female, can you help us?

Johanna ook'd understanding and that while she couldn't promise anything, she'd certainly try, and {{admiring fellow-female modulation}} what a lovely baby!

The orang mother knuckled to the front of the cage and pushed her child forwards. One of the students opened the cage door, and Johanna took the proffered orang infant into her arms. It looked up trustingly at her and nestled.

It'll ruin this jacket. But I can dress properly for work tomorrow.

"They've never done that for me before!" Amy said. There was a hint of envy in her voice.

"Ag, you just didn't esk in the right way." Johanna said, mothering the infant orang, which snuggled trustingly. "I'll teach you a bit of basic ook, if you like!"

The Caltech students looked at each other. And this woman was going to be teaching in the department? Her courses are going to be over-subscribed when this gets around!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They returned to 2311 North Los Robles. Sheldon Cooper raised objections to Johanna's soiled jacket travelling in the car and the definite odor of monkey that was lingering in the air. Ponder observed it hadn't taken her very long to seek out the animals, and Amy corrected Sheldon on his use of the word monkey to describe orang-utans.

"I was amazed at how tractable they became after Johanna spent time with them." Amy said. "I can see her doctorate in animal psychology was deservedly conferred. There is clearly much I can learn from her."

"Johanna, I know a good dry cleaner who'll look after your clothes." Leonard said. While he could smell Essence of Ape in the air – and it pervaded – he was content that it was seriously offending Sheldon's nose. It was worth the smell to see Sheldon discomfited. Ponder, who was used to it, smiled happily.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Entertainment that night was provided by Raj Kooprathali, who brought a large refracting telescope over to set up on the roof of the building. Ponder and Howard helped him carry it up to the roof and assemble it. The intention was for Ponder to get a direct appreciation of Earth's place in its galaxy, and, from Ponder's point of view, to get practical understanding of what it was to live on a spherical world and not a flat plane. Ponder appreciated this. He could theoretically grasp the ramifications and physics of Roundworld – he had tried to explain this to other wizards with varying degrees of success – but was short on applying it to practical everyday situations.

"So. The world spins on its vertical axis as it orbits the sun. during the night, the sun is still there, but unseen, as we are then temporarily on the face pointing away. Without direct sunlight, the stars are visible above, but the earth is still turning, in a counter-clockwise direction. The North-South axis orientates on the poles. But the direction of movement gives us a second set of co-ordinates, which we would call Turnwise and Widdershins.."

"East and West, Ponder." Raj corrected him.

"East and West. And during the night as the Earth turns, the stars above are fixed in their positions, or apparently so. So we see the stars apparently rising and setting, but rotating what appears to be a fixed celestial pole."

Ponder turned the desktop globe experimentally, watching the movement of the south-western USA. He was looking forward to a few hours of practical observation to support all the concepts that so far only existed inside his head.

Johanna sat on the rooftop balustrade with Lucy, Amy and Penny. She had showered and changed into more comfortable and practical clothing; her business suit had been sealed into a bag for despatch to a professional cleaner after being orang-utanned. Johanna barely noticed such smells, but was habituated to a strict laundry regime out of courtesy to the people she shared living space with at the Guild. Amy Farrah-Fowler, who also worked in proximity with simians, had similar necessities. Living alone she'd been largely oblivious, but after meeting Sheldon had realised a need for a far more stringent hygiene regimen.

Penny had reluctantly admitted to being in a low-budget movie concerning a woman who turned into a killer ape. There was talk of a sequel. So at least it was an acting role, but...

"Hey, bezzie, Johanna can help!" Amy said, suddenly animated. "She was amazing with the mon... the apes... today! I'd always found orang-utans to be unpredictable, temperamental and somewhat hostile, but Johanna was awesome. They were practically eating out of her hand! Penny, you get her to teach you how to act like a convincing ape!"

"Eatin' out of her hand, huh?" Penny said. "Does that explain the smell in the laundry room? Sheldon was bitchin' about people who work with animals takin' their work home with them."

"Some things are inevitable." Johanna said, sighing. "But in principle, I can provide technicel essistence."

There was a little time to go before darkness set in. Johanna contemplated the relatively short gap between the top of 2311 North Los Robles and the neighbouring apartment block. She found herself wondering about a different way of getting exercise. There seemed to be a group of apartment blocks on the street built to more or less the same pattern, with neighbouring buildings further out that had useful things like external fire escapes and lots of drainpipes, gutters, gulleys and external fixings. She smiled to herself. Penny looked over, misinterpreting the smile.

"Did I tell you? The guys once got hold of a machine looking pretty much like the one you arrived on. Only it was non-functioning, yeah, just a stage prop. Raj has got it now, on his balcony."

"Ja?" Johanna said, distantly, thinking balconies are good too. But we discourage students from using them, or passing across windows, as the whole point of edificeering is to move unseen and un-noticed.

"They blocked the freaking stairway tryin' to get it up here." Penny went on. "Made me late for work. I had to leap the gap onto the roof of the apartment block next door to use their stairs, you know? I still can't face the Lebanese family livin' on the fourth floor, they insisted I had lunch with them, and made a big deal of their son bein' single."

"You have experience? Thet is good." Johanna said, standing up. She was in sports trousers and trainers. Good clothing allowing for maximum flexibility. She eyed the gap with a professional eye. Alice Band had graded her as "outstanding" for edificeering...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Ponder Stibbons was raising a question with the guys. It was a little niggle that perplexed him.

"Leonard." he said, uncertainly. "It looks as if I'm going to be called "Harry" by everyone at Caltech. That's fine, I'm okay with that. Harry Ponder-Stibbons is a good alias, and I like the sound of it myself. But why Harry? It fits so well."

"Harry Ponder." Sheldon Cooper said. He had come up the stairs with Bernadette, who had made him carry a second tray of drinks. Bernadette had discovered the best way to get Sheldon to co-operate was to speak to him as if he were a seven year old boy. Somehow it got results.

"I like Harry Ponder. It fits."

"There's your answer, Harry." Leonard said. It felt as if there was some hidden joke there.

"And Johanna's got red hair." Howard observed. "And a bit of a temper. Think we can call her "Ginny"?"

"Guys..." Bernadette said, warningly. "Sorry, Ponder. You know we saw "Lord of the Rings" the other night, and these guys can quote you any amount of lines and scenes you care to mention? Well, there's this other set of books and movies. About a guy called Harry Potter. Who's a wizard. They know those movies inside-out too."

Ponder felt as if he almost understood. And the idea of exploring how Roundworld imaginations dealt with wizardry was interesting too. Their imagining of dwarves, elves, trolls and goblins had been diverting, if wildly inaccurate.

"Maybe we can watch the movies sometime?" Ponder suggested. Sheldon squeaked with enthusiasm.

"What a good idea!" he said. "We can start at the beginning!"

"It's a compliment, Ponder." Bernadette assured him. "Harry Potter's kinda cute. A lot of girls fell for him." She scrutinised Ponder in a way he felt slightly uncomfortable with, and said "Hey, you look a bit like Daniel Radcliffe, but older! Put you in the wizard robes, and Johanna's gonna get worried!"

Ponder boggled. Discworld girls, in his experience, largely found men in wizarding robes to be anything but cute. OK, those full-of-themselves insufferable characters in Nec... Post-Mortem Communications, with the black robes and the skull rings, had intermittent success with a particular sort of young woman, but Ponder had encountered necromancy groupies and found them to be as emotionally stable as a balloon in a hurricane. Bernard Goatly and the rest were welcome to them. And the most visible Wizards tended to be well over fifty and wider than they were tall. He briefly considered the Lancre witch who'd managed to snare one into marriage. Mrs Letice Earwig. And shuddered. No wonder, Lucy Tockley aside, he'd been single and disregarded by the female gender until his late twenties...

Hold on, that girl Leslie Winkle was first to call me "Harry"... for some reason the thought worried Ponder. Leonard Hofstadter's voice brought him back to the present.

"What are the girls up to... oh, Jesus..."

Johanna took a minimal run-up, then bounced off the parapet. Unencumbered by weapons or equipment, this was something she could have done blindfold. Sometimes she had, on familiar routes, just to accustom herself to trusting other senses than vision. She landed several feet beyond the parapet on the neighbouring roof, turned, grinned and beckoned Penny to follow.

Penny grimaced slightly. But she had also changed into lightweight shorts, comfortable shoes and a baggy top. And, she reminded herself, she'd done this before. Taking a slightly longer run-up, she followed, landing lightly on the other side.

"Good fun, yesno?" Johanna said.

"I can't frikkin' believe I'm doing this." Penny mumbled. Johanna patted her on the shoulder, then was agreeably surprised when, after some hesitation, little Lucy followed. She landed slightly awkwardly, but Johanna caught and steadied her.

"Comfort zones egain, yesno?"

Lucy nodded, looking a little pale.

"I did it, though." she said.

"End you cen do it egain. Next roof?"

Johanna led the way, with Penny and Lucy following.

"Parkour." Sheldon Cooper said, dispassionately. Amy, who had contemplated her knee-length skirt and sensible clumpy shoes, had shaken her head and remained on the roof of 2311.

"Otherwise known as roof-running and urban climbing". she added. "Damn, if Johanna had warned me, I'd have dressed for it." Amy was slightly peeved.

"Also known as edificeering on our world." Ponder Stibbons said. "Johanna teaches it. Well, she can teach it, but the Guild School's not short of skilled teachers."

He grinned at Leonard and Raj.

"She'll bring them back safely. She hasn't lost a pupil yet!"

As Johanna took a small class in edificeering over the roofs of North los Robles, the guys got into the astronomy lesson. Ponder found it interesting and entertaining.

"So that one there is called the Pole Star. Because it's nearest, but not actually on, the celestial pole around which the fixed stars apparently rotate. So it can be used for navigation as its apparent direction is always roughly north. Got that. And if we were south of the notional equator, would we be seeing other stars up there?"

"Exactly so, Ponder." said Raj. "Were we in the lower part of the continent of South America or Australia, I would be showing you the Southern Cross, a constellation invisible to us here, which is also used for navigational purposes."

"But the stars must also move in relation to the Earth, even if only slowly?" Ponder asked. He was more used to the Discworld, where the constellations on either side moved very quickly in relation to the World turtle, whilst those behind and in front remained relatively static.

"Indeed, Professor. We call that precession, and measure it in arc-degrees according to sidereal time." Raj said. This opened up a discussion on the mathematics of astro-physics. Locked in the debate over first, second, and third order precession, the guys paid no attention to a nearby police siren. Bernadette, who had also opted out of edificeering owing to an inconvenient skirt(2), looked at Amy. Meanwhile, Sheldon had produced some board-chalk and was eagerly writing equations up on a convenient concrete surface.

Ponder was discussing the implications of dψ/dt = Tx /Cώ sin έ  with Leonard, Sheldon and Raj, Sheldon having countered by moving up to dψ/dt = 3/2(Gm/a3{1-e2}3/2)s{(C-A)cos έ/Cώ}E, "which, as everybody should be aware, is the basic Newtonian equation for precession, taking into account both "a", Earth's angular velocity, and "Cώ", the planet's angular momentum."(3)

"And then there's second-order precession caused by the mutual orbit of the Earth and the moon around the sun." Raj said, looking peeved that Sheldon had taken over the astrophysics. "Sheldon, that makes for an even more complex equation still."

Bernadette nudged Amy and poured her another glass of wine. Amy took it with thanks. Somewhere behind them there was the slightest and most unheeded bump. Nobody noticed it. The two slightly-out-of-breath policemen coming up the stairs were a courtesy detail.

"How can we help you, officers?" Leonard asked, as smoothly as he could manage. Inside, he was having uneasy suspicions about Penny and the other girls. Well, I didn't hear anyone fall off and splat into the street, he thought. No screams. He also suspected that anywhere Johanna Smith-Rhodes went, there would inevitably be screams sooner or later. Maybe muffled, strangulated or abruptly-cut-off ones, but still nevertheless recognisable as screams.

"You can help us by reporting that godamn elevator to your building supervisor and gettin' it fixed." the spokes-cop said, tersely. "Four flights of godamn stairs. Perps must be well away by now."

Bernadette fired her brightest pinball smile.

"Hey! Officer Krupke, isn't it? I remember you from Saturday!"

Krupke's good humour was restored by a pretty girl smiling at him as if she was genuinely pleased to see him. Amy lifted her wineglass to him.

"Hey, you're the gal who got robbed on Wilshire? Nice to see you, ma'am. Your friends not here? Doctor Smith-Rhodes from South Africa and the blonde chick, the looker? Hey, well. Maybe you can help. We got reports about intruders on the roof of several apartment blocks. Two, maybe three, suspicious perps goin' from roof to roof like they was lookin' for a way to break in. You all been up here for a while?"

The second cop, who had an Asian look, was scrutinising the scene suspiciously as if Sheldon and the guys were the perps they were looking for. Then he shook his head.

"Reports suggested the perps might be female." he said. "Can't rule it out. No rule says burglars have to be male. Hey, I've spoken to you before... Doctor Cooper, isn't it? From Caltech?"

"Indeed. When my World of Warcraft account was hacked and valuable articles were misappropriated."

Krupke did a double-take and nudged his partner. "This is the guy?" he stage-whispered. "The nutty professor?"

His partner nodded. "Not the sort of doctor with access to drugs." he assured Krupke. "Did you get the stuff back, Doctor Cooper?"

Sheldon nodded. "No thanks to the police force." he said. "We investigated privately, and persuaded the thief to return the stolen items."

"Completely legally and amicably!" Leonard said, hurriedly. The fact Penny had beaten the thief up and kicked him hard, in what the rodeo fraternity described as the prairie-oysters, was not something he wanted to dwell on.

"I don't doubt you, Doctor...Hofstadter." Cops were trained to have good memories. Leonard recalled the night he'd acted as link-man between this cop and Sheldon. Any policeman would remember an interview like that.

"Not likely to involve these guys." Krupke said. "Bunch of eggheads from the Nut Factory out here with a telescope, and having themselves an alfresco math class. And two nice gals taking the air for a glass of wine."

He nodded to Bernadette and Amy, who smiled back.

"But tonight. We've been running up and down stairs in a few buildings on this street chasing these intruders. I got a glimpse of one of them running in this direction. Have you seen anything odd tonight?"

"Well, we were looking at the sky and talking astronomy..." Howard began. He looked past the policemen and blinked. Where did she come from?

"Cen I essist, officers?" Johanna said politely. "Officer Krupke, isn't it? I remember you from Seturday."

"Hey, doc!" Krupke said, with polite respect. He'd seen what Johanna was capable of. "We're responding to a report about intruders on the roofs of several buildings on this street. You wouldn't have seen anything, would you?"

"Ah, ja. Fifteen minutes ago, I witnessed two people, possibly female, leaping between rooftops. They went in thet direction..."

She indicated the opposite direction to the one she had taken with Lucy and Penny. "...I understend there is a sport celled "roof running" where people take the risk of running and leaping between rooftops. It hes a French name, le parkour. While it is technicelly trespess end if demage to property is caused, eggrevated trespess, as I saw the two girls involved did not eppear to be cerrying burglery tools end were in sports clothing, I reasoned it was nothing to get too concerned ebout, end I let them pess."

Johanna smoothly provided two descriptions, one slight and dark, one taller and blonde. She then very carefully let the rest be as unlike Penny and Lucy as possible, and was scrupulous to tell no actual lies.

"Thanks, doc." Krupke said. "Well, looks as if they got clean away." he sighed. "Let's file the report. See that telescope only points at the sky, guys. Woman in the apartment opposite gets undressed in front of an open window, see what I'm sayin'? Third floor, 2298. Just so you know. Don't want her phonin' in a complaint about voyeurs."

"Officer, this telescope will not go anywhere near 2298." Howard assured him, with a straight face. The policemen left. Johanna waited a few moments, counting to thirty. Then she waved at the roof of the adjoining building. Penny and Lucy emerged from hiding and leapt the gap back to 2311.

Howard went back towards the stairwell.

"Hey, where are you goin'?" Leonard asked.

"Won't be long, guys. Just getting the binoculars." he said.

There was a silent moment.

"You lost the cops, huh?" Penny inquired.

"They will not be coming beck." Johanna reassured her. She reached out her arms and shoulder-hugged the others.

"You were good! Especially you, Lucy!"

Johanna spoke approvingly of Lucy adding new skills to her proven ability in breaking and exiting.

"Hey, comfort zones." Lucy said, shyly. "And I really wanted to try after I watched you and Penny leap over. I just knew I'd be kicking myself if I didn't."

"Tell us about it." Leonard said, with patience. "Running the rooftops and evading the cops. Your Guild of Assassins sure teaches some skills."

"Thenk you, Leonard. Well, we got a long way down the street. I was certain I hed not been spotted. Penny end Lucy do not hev these skills. Yet. When we heard the siren, Penny said "Cops". I know the Wetch et home. The everege Wetchmen is not herd to fool. I reasoned the local police could be meneged with similar tectics."

Reasoning the police would be looking for them, the girls had gone to ground, noting the two policemen had got out of their vehicle, leaving it unattended. A cautious look revealed them gaining access to the building through the front door. Penny said she thought they'd come up in the elevator to the roof to check. Johanna had then led them to the adjoining rooftop where they had settled down to watch. One of the cops had spotted Lucy on the next roof and shouted "hey!" Again they had waited for the cops to run to the elevator. The younger, fitter, one had favoured leaping the gap himself to make the arrest, but the older and fatter one had vetoed this. This made it easier for the girls to hop back to the next roof, then to sit back and silently taunt the two cops...

"Very enjoyable". Johanna said. Noting the cops getting wise to this and skipping a couple of buildings to let themselves into 2311 North Los Robles, Johanna had advised the others to sit still and tight in a patch of shadow. She had then silently and discreetly hopped back while the guys were clustered around the telescope arguing about mathematics, while Amy and Bernadette were absorbed in the wine, and concealed herself to listen to the cops when they came up. The fact she'd already met one of them made it easier, although she thought she could still have misdirected them even if they were strangers. At the right moment she'd made her presence known and sent them off in the wrong direction.

"Perheps tomorrow, more edificeering?" Johanna asked. "Wear bleck or derk grey clothing. Ideally we elso need hoods to cover our hair. Those policemen already knew one person was blonde end enother derk."

"I'm up for it!" Penny agreed. Hell, there was something about Johanna...

Bernadette had a laptop set up. The girls clustered around the screen; ponder surmised she was calling up a movie of some sort. He'd heard Howard use the dismissive term "chick-flick." He assumed it was one of those. He made himself focus on Sheldon's mathematical exposition.

"The average torque of the sine wave in the direction of y is zero for the Sun or Moon, so this component of the torque does not affect precession. The average torque of the sine squared waveform in the direction of x for the Sun or Moon is as follows...(4)

"Ooh, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Just this idea I had. You guys should see this. See if Harry Potter reminds you of anyone..."

"Ooh, I know! Me, me, me!"

"The latter pair of forces, one pair parallel to Earth's equatorial plane toward and away from the perturbing body which cancel each other out, and another pair parallel to Earth's rotational axis, both toward the ecliptic plane, creates the following torquevector on Earth's equatorial bulge..."

"Howie! What are you doing with those binoculars?"

"Yes, Howard. Do concentrate! This is basic astro-mechanics and should not be beyond even your comprehension."

"Hey, that's Ponder. Only, thirteen years old!"

"...then we apply the conversion to "/a", which is obviously arcseconds per annum, by the number of arc-seconds in 2πradian, which reduces down to one point two nine six times ten to the power six over two times Pi,  and the number of seconds in one Julian annum, which is three point one five five seven six times ten to the power seven ess over ay..."

"Oh, he's so cute!"

And so a pleasant evening was had by all...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Because she could do without the Librarian knuckling in with a set of bolt-cutters and an intent "OOK!" of Let my people go! on his lips.

(2) And out of an uneasy feeling her legs were too short for eight-foot gaps between buildings.

(3) Just halving my readership again.

(4) It's all from the Wikipedia article on axial rotation and precession. I can just about grasp what it's for, and visualise celestial bodies dancing a tango together, but Raj, Ponder, Leonard and Howard can probably apply the maths better than I can. I'll take their word for it that the equations are correct!

Chapter 18: The Exobiological Speculation

More Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana 18)

We're back with the latest thrilling instalment

Ah well. I branched out and set out the beginnings of an Everybody Loves Raymond/King of Queens crossover that had been gestating in my head for quite some time. (What happened to the Barone and Heffernan families after the cameras stopped rolling, in 2005 and 2007 respectively? Adding in "Real Life Writes The Plot" elements concerning the sad death of actor Peter Boyle (Frank Barone), and an inferred nice thing happening to Arthur Spooner that has the potential to solve all Doug and Carrie's money woes, at least for now. I think it's sound, but it ran into tumultuous critical indifference – uniquely for one of my fics, no reviews. But lots of reviews and PM's on other tales demanding to know why there have been no updates on the stuff people really do want to see. You can't argue with the fanbase, at least not for very long. So, having written Frank Barone's Italian-American funeral, back to this one with new ideas...

© Chuck Lorré Productions, to Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain.

Possible titles (feel free to devise your own: PM me with them? Namechecks will be given)

The Any Sufficiently Advanced Magic Is Indistinguishable From Science Hypothesis

this is your author speaking! Thank you for the reviews, much appreciated. As I seem to be on a roll with this one, may I say there is NOW AN OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK to this fic? (1)

FF won't let me post a link - rats. But go to You-Tube, u-Tube, et c, and look for my other identity of Pragmatist23. There is a playlist of all songs (so far) that directly or indirectly get referenced here. You may like at least SOME of them. "Soft Kitty" is in there too, performed by Kaley Cuoco-Sweeting (Penny). Thank you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder Stibbons rolled onto the bed, feeling slightly stunned by events. Johanna propped herself up on one elbow and looked sympathetically down on him. He had a wide-eyed and worried look. The night of astronomy had eventually washed out as cloud cover rolled in from the mountains. At the urging of Bernadette and Penny, everyone had retreated to the apartment and watched the first two Harry Potter movies. While Ponder had found something intrinsically and professionally interesting in the way Roundworld imagined a college for wizards – and witches? - he had become more and more uncomfortable with the way all the women in the room had been continually transferring their attention from the actor on the screen to Ponder and then back again. Ponder privately thought the young student wizard was quite a pale nerdy type with glasses. Surely they didn't think... and then he suddenly realised they did.

Johanna smiled.

"It's quite nice to have a man other women edmire." she said, contentedly.

He digested this. Suddenly attracting the attention of some not unattractive women – and Amy Farrah-Fowler – was new to him, after a lifetime of consistently passing under female radar and being invisible to the female gaze. At least, he thought, Johanna's okay with this.

"You're not, errr..." he said.

She shook her head. But it amuses her.

"Ponder, why should I be?" she asked. "They are all heppy with their own men. I see no threat."

She rearranged herself on the bed and stroked his face.

"You know." she said, thoughtfully. "This is one to tell your friend Victor Tugelbend when you see him next. Even though it is years since the Moving Pictures, women remember Victor Mareschino. Wherever he goes es a Watchman, women fight to be helpful to him. I suspect Commender Vimes end especially Ceptain Cerrot see this es en edventege."

Ponder nodded, gloomily. Victor had returned from exile to Ankh-Morpork and had taken the best career option available to an intelligent misfit who prefers work largely in the warm with little physical exertion. He had joined the City Watch and was now a detective-sergeant in the Cable Street Particulars, the Watch's first and only wizard-watchman. (1) His figuring-things-out analytical skills and general intelligence made him a born detective. As ninety per cent of his job involved working indoors collating evidence and taking reports, largely with coffee and a figgin to hand, he was not unopposed to this. And of course women talked to him, often at length and unwisely with regard to what was said that the Watch might find interesting.

"There is a Moving Pictures star on this Roundworld who has a physical resemblence to you. But here, he is seen by millions of people end he hes meny fans end edmirers." Johanna said. "He elso hes books written ebout him. Ponder, how does it feel to be Victor Mereschino?"

"Uncomfortable." Ponder admitted. Johanna hugged him.

"Or this Deniel Redcliffe fellow." she added.

He felt she was most amused by this.

"And Harry Potter also associates with a strong red-haired woman." he said, watching her face.

"Or girl, enywey." she replied. "Ginny. End Hermione. Strange thet on this world, thet is en unfashionable name with essociations of a time a hundred years behind the present. It is very popular on the Discworld."

Ponder sighed. He felt both strangely gratified and also scared as Hell that the gorgeous blonde Penny had shown the most interest in him. He wondered if she was seeing in him some of the same things that had drawn her to Leonard Hofstadter – now there was a case of opposites attracting. Ponder liked Leonard. A lot. If it was true Johanna and Penny had bonded almost immediately, then the same could be said of Ponder and Leonard: two kindred spirits, albeit from two planets separated by a massive gulf of space and time. Ponder just knew, after a day at Caltech, that on this world he'd be a research physicist. He strongly suspected that had Leonard been born on the Discworld, he'd be at the very least a Doctor of Magic at Unseen University. It was an interesting thought. Ponder found Sheldon Cooper to be hard work, with his not unreasonable assumption of intellectual superiority. He liked Howard Wolowitz, who, when you got past the surface Howard, was actually a nice guy and a gifted engineer. And Raj Kooprathali certainly knew his astronomy and had taught it well to Ponder. But when you got down to it, he had a deeper link to Leonard and it had been an easy meeting of minds from their first contact.

Johanna smiled again.

"A strenge thing. Wizerds on this world do not, seemingly, have steffs. Just megic wends."

"Yes. No scope for jokes." Ponder agreed.

"No knob on the end." she said, teasingly.

"Well... I think I could manage a sparkle." Ponder admitted. She smiled, and reached for him.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning at Caltech, Johanna checked her email and frowned. Instant communication left no time for wiggle-room, she realised. At the Guild School, she could always claim she hadn't seen a written memo or that it had been buried in her in-tray. Not so here. Professor Attleborough was thanking her for her first batch of translations out of Afrikaans, most enlightening, and was she up to covering a class that afternoon? Nothing too demanding, just a freshman course in taxonomy, the regular teacher was on sick leave.

Johanna called for HEX, the third member of the visiting party from the Discworld.

++I hear you, Johanna.++

"How does texonomy work on this world, HEX?" she asked. "How different is it from the Discworld?"

++The principles and structure are broadly the same, Johanna.++ As you might expect where parellel evolution, which of course was initiated by the former Dean when he precipitated the trigger-event that created this Universe, has created an ecosystem which is 90% identical to ours.++

"Dean Henry." she said. Ponder had - reluctantly - told her the story. "You initiated the Roundworld universe to ebsorb a dangerous surge of primal megic. So es to evert a seriously Big Beng thet could have destroyed our world."

++Just so, Johanna.++ I diverted that Big Bang into potential space with the capacity to generate a new Universe. The Big Bang happened there, rather than ripping our world and universe apart.++ I intended it to be wholly separate, but Dean Henry very unwisely inserted his hand into the potential space and gave it shape and form.++I believe he said "Let There Be Light", or something similar when he wiggled his fingers in the Potential.++And being human, he seeded the new universe with the direction it required to bring forth humanity, and a mirror of our own world. ++Thus, humans eventually evolved.++

Johanna smiled.

"Will you tell Sheldon Cooper this, et eny point?"

++No, Johanna.++ We learnt with Charles Darwin that if humans of this world become aware of the truth, it shocks them into catatonia.++And Doctor Sheldon Cooper is a lot more mentally and emotionally fragile than Mr Darwin.++ It would be cruel and injurious.++ (2)

"I egree, HEX. Now telk me through texonomy end clessification on this world. If I em to teach it to students here, will I be able to edapt my stenderd lecture to Guild pupils?"

++With ease, Johanna. ++You will need to be aware that on this world, the key person is a Swedish professor called Carolus Linneus.++ Not as we know him, Carlos Linoleum++The two systems are conveniently similar...++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And down the hall, the Physics tutor known here as Professor Harry Ponder-Stibbons was also being tasked with taking a lecture class. He considered for a moment, then asked Leonard Hofstadter for advice. And a similar conversation was going on.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey! Johanna!"

Howard Wolowitz half-stood and waved as she entered the Caltech refectory. She waved back, and walked over to join the guys. Eyes followed her. Today, she was dressed casually, in her preferred veldt-chic of khaki trousers, tunic and boots. While belted, she had agreed with Penny to leave the associated weapons at home in the apartment, as even Caltech had limits on faculty eccentricity. Besides, Penny had reflected, I guess the students at Caltech are only occasionally gonna want to kill you back, right?

"Little moments like this, guys." Howard murmured. "Remind us this ain't the nerd table no more, right?"

Raj Kooprathali nodded fervent assent and edged along to make room for her.

"As I was saying." Sheldon Cooper said, cross at being interrupted. "I am in two minds about the concept of Thor becoming a woman in the new Marvel comics cycle. I profess myself baffled as to how this will work." (3)

"Yeah, sounds strange." agreed Raj. "Maybe Loki inflicts it on him as some sort of gloatingly evil curse."

"And that's the hook they intend to use, to reach out to women who have strangely and perversely ignored the superhero comics 'verse as being of little interest or relevance to them?" Amy Farrah-Fowler commented. "That being female is a curse, inflicted by the Trickster God? Yes, that will pull us in by the tens of thousands."

"Yep." Leonard said, wearily. "We're no longer the nerd table. Right."

"Of course." Raj said, reflectively, "There is an Irish myth that when the men of Ulster were beset with enemy armies on all sides, the battle-Goddess Morrigan cursed them with agonising labour pains as if they were all women about to give birth. Result, Ulster, none, the rest of Ireland, many!"

"You have an example nearer to your own culture." Sheldon said. "In Hindu mythology, the minor deity Ila was noted by his – or her – superpower of being able to change sex at will, becoming the goddess Sudyumna. The great deity Shiva is also androgynous and has a female form Shakti. But even so, I cannot see a way this translates to the Norse legend upon which the comic superhero Thor is loosely based." (4)

"Sheldon, you're explaining Hinduism to me. Again..." Raj said, with icy calm.

Johanna raised a questioning eyebrow at Leonard, who she correctly assessed as being one of two halfway sane people at the table. She was at home with the concept of many Gods and supernatural deities. She'd even met several of them and taken tea with the God of Evolution. Roundworld pantheons were new to her. Leonard tried to explain and she pieced it together, trying to imagine a trans-gendered version of Blind Io. She imagined hammers and thunderbolts would be flying if anyone ever tried. But she wondered, all the same, if enough people suddenly believed, would this force a sex-change on the God? Belief shapes form... She smiled at the idea of a suddenly confused and inconvenienced Great Goddess Blind Io who wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it. A thought in the back of her mind said Teatime Prize?

"How was the morning, bezzie?" Amy asked.

Johanna explained she had a lecture to present at two, but after research and lesson planning, she felt it was well within her professional competence; just a simple nuts-and-bolts thing to freshmen zoologists concerning classification, structure and taxonomy.

"Dick and Jane stuff." Amy said, nodding sagely. Then explained who Dick and Jane were in American popular culture and first-grade comprehension.

"See Spot Run." Johanna said, nodding understanding. On this world, comic books shape and redefine belief in their Gods. Followers argue over their interpretations as if they were holy books. Right down to the smallest details. Just like priests and believers.

"Hey, we all have to begin somewhere." Leonard said. "Hey, Ponder. You've got one too this afternoon, right?"

Ponder Stibbons nodded. "Newtonian mechanics, fluid mechanics and kinetic gas theory. Solids, liquids and gases. Basic introduction to."

"Wouldn't interest you, Sheldon." Amy said. "Too basic. Kindergarten stuff."

"Even so." Sheldon said. "Would it be helpful, Professor, if I attended and sat at the back? That way you have my intellectual observations to fall back on, should you require them..."

"NO, Sheldon!" Leonard and Howard said together. "Students see you in there, they'll spook and run. Not fair to Ponder!"

"Little tip, Ponder." Raj said. "Do not let Sheldon into the lecture theater when you are presenting. The last thing you need is a heckler from the back row!"

"I might show, though." Howard mused. "Basic mechanics are fundamental to engineering. Common course. Does no harm to get a refresher, and 'sides, some of the new freshmen are women."

"Old habits, Howard." Amy said, reprovingly.

But on this world there is no Narrativium. On the Discworld there is a fledgling comic book industry. We also have Narrativium. If Blind Io became the hero of comic books like this Thor. Could his form therefore follow new belief, if it were changed by a narrative that gripped the imagination, together with helpful and graphic pictures of the new manifestation?

Johanna smiled to herself.

Teatime Prize! It might not inhume the God, but it could have other interesting results... Blind Ionina, pehaps?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna spent ten minutes or so familiarising herself with the lecture theater. It was one of the smaller demonstration and lecture rooms at Caltech with tiered seating for up to a hundred students. The tiers were arranged in a semicircle, looking down on the speaker's platform and lecture podium, with the usual facilities of whiteboards and projection screen behind her. She was used to blackboard and chalk as her only presentation aid, with occasional access to a salamander-fired slide projector. But Howard Wolowitz had volunteered again to run her through the technology at her disposal. He had shown her that a laptop computer could be plugged into the podium and a simple hand-held device could be employed to advance the on-screen display from material accessed via the laptop. She thanked him. His genuinely helpful behaviour was earning him future credit against any little verbal slips or lapses. She could forgive him a lot of typically Wolowitz behaviour of the unwelcome sort.

HEX was also present. She appreciated this; the thinking machine could easily advise, via silent onscreen prompts, and run the lecture notes that would be useful in presenting. As Howard finished up and students began filing in, she assessed them as fairly typical eighteen and nineteen year old freshmen students. Bright but possibly lazy and happy to be spoon-fed the technical information necessary to pass an introductory class.

"You'll do fine, Johanna." Howard assured her. "Hey, when you write on the whiteboards, don't write onto the screen by mistake? They don't like that. Takes special cleaning."

Johanna noted how the delicate projection screen was set flush in the middle of the two banks of whiteboards. The edges of the screen showed multicolour evidence of where previous lecturers had got carried away with concepts they were trying to demonstrate. She gathered that even the wipe-off pens could adversely stain the delicate material of the screen and would be hard to remove from a surface not intended to take coloured ink. (5)

She took a deep breath. The room was filling up fast. To her surprise, and a certain warm gratification, two late arrivals were Amy Farrah-Fowler and Leonard Hofstadter, who sat inobtrusively at the back. Amy smiled and waved and Leonard gave her a reassuring thumbs-up.

Johanna smiled, and introduced herself to the class, briefly explaining her academic credentials, and the intented goals of this class. Then she placed a large rock on the podium in front of her, and stood back.

"A geologist could probebly tell you exectly whet sort of a rock this is." she said, in her classroom voice. "Whet it is, where it came from, how it came to be end probably when its birthday was in the volcano thet forged it." she began. "However, I em not a geologist, end ell you need to know for our purposes is thet it is a rock. It was born somewhere in the crust of this plenet end is a product of this plenet. Just es ell created life is a product of this plenet's ecosystem. Now we ere going to heve a little thought-experiment. Whet distinguishes, let us say, en orang-utan, from this rock? Why do we escribe life to en orang, end not to this piece of stone? I epologise for heving no orang to show you. I considered this, but I was unsure as to how such an enimel might respond to sitting through a boring lecture for two hours. Instead we will make do with an icon... a photogreph."

On cue, HEX brought up a slide of a family group of orang-utans in the jungle canopy.

"This will focus your minds." she said. "Why do we escribe life es a quelity these creatures possess end rocks do not? Whet defines life?"

A student uncertainly raised a hand. She nodded.

"You have to be born, ma'am?" he offered.

"So was this rock." Johanna pointed out. "One day it stopped being molten lava underground, end it cooled into the form you see on the desk. Consider the question with a little more scientific rigour."

The student looked puzzled. Johanna, who'd never been a ma'am before to her students and wasn't sure if she wholeheartedly liked it, gave him a prompt.

"You hev the beginnings of a velid enswer." she said, encouragingly. "Think ebout the consequences of being born. Whet else heppens?"

"We... err.. grow?"

"Good!" Johanna said. She crossed to a whiteboard and reached for a pen. She quickly wrote the word BIRTH in large letters. Then an arrow flowing down to the word GROWTH.

"We grow end develop. Rocks do not."

She crossed her fingers, as a mental picture blossomed of a typical Discworld troll. She discarded this. There were no trolls on this world.

"End efter growth?"

The students were starting to get the picture; words like MATURITY, DEATH, DECAY were added.

Johanna then prompted them for other things living organisms did that rocks did not. A smarter student suggested that crystal formation was an example of rocks growing.

"But thet mey be replicated in a laboratory with a minimum of chemicals end warm water." she said. "It is a simple end explicable chemical process. Thus far we hev not been able to create orgenic life in a test-tube."

A picture of Matron Igorina formed next to the troll. Both made rude gestures at her. She sighed, and put the Discworld out of her mind. This had to be only Roundworld science. She pushed aside one of her other lectures, that of crystal formation in the pre-natal ontogeny of trolls, as being irrelevant here.

"Whet else does a life-form do?" she asked. "What things do living creatures do thet only living creatures do? A seed-crystal absorbs material in suspension in the liquid environment around it end grows, ja. But we do not call that crystal alive." She crossed her fingers again, contemplating embryonic trolls.

EATING was added to the list. It was refined to ABSORBTION OF NUTRIENTS. Johanna invited the class to consider why we eat and what it is for. And what else happens.

EXCRETION joined the list. After a while, other factors like REPRODUCTION were suggested. RESPIRATION ("Rocks do not breathe") joined the list. Johanna shook off a mental image of Detritus the troll taking a deep breath. She replaced the slide of orang-utans with a magnified shot of micro-organisms.

Saccharomyces." she said. "Yeast cells. Important to our sort of life, but clearly living themselves. Now do you think they heve the same sort of life es en orang-utan?"

This introduced the concept of different sorts of life. Working with the class, Johanna began with plants and animals. Then referred to the history of classification which for a long time had considered these were the only two sorts of life there were. She frowned as a couple of students fell into the trap and said things like "Aren't there?" in confusion. Then she introduced the anomalies, things like algae, mushrooms, and others, that could not easily be placed in either the plant or animal domains and had characteristics of both and neither. Another group debate established the irreducible qualities of both plants and animals. She briefly explained there were, in fact, ei... six distinct domains of life. (6) Some of which were vestigial, evidence that the evolutionary process had favoured the plant, animal and fungal domains which had grown to fill ninety per cent of the available evolutionary niches, leaving other domains with a lesser but still present foothold in the ecology. These could be regarded as vestigial possibilities of what might have been, or else Nature holding a few ideas in long-term reserve on the subs' bench in case Animals failed to make it as dominant kingdom.

She wrote the six domain names along the bottom of another whiteboard, reflecting that this was teaching she normally delivered to thirteen-year old student Assassins. Here, it wasn't properly covered till higher education. Which was good, as she was more than capable of delivering it.

"Now we can epproach the question of how the meny sorts of life this plenet hes mey be clessified and placed in relation to each other." she said. "We know the yeast cell is relatively lowly in the scale of created things. The orang-utan is a higher ape, closely related to the human being. The question is where they go in relation to each other. Fortunetely there is a mechanism for thet."

From the six domains of Monera, Protozoa, Chromista, Fungi, Plantae, and Animaliae, Johanna and her class moved methodically up through the levels of phylum – class – order – family – genum – species.

The Tree of Life, not so much a tree as a coppice of interlinked shrubs, grew as she worked, explaining in detail how the classifications worked, what the criteria for judgement were, and how it was possible to fit anything you liked in an accurate position somewhere – just so long as it satisfied the criteria for life.

"We will get on to the implications later." she promised her students, drawing the North American Wolverine into its place as species gulu gulo of genum gulo of family mustalidae of the order of carnivora of the class chordata of the phylum animaliae. (7) The tree was now showing a lot of boughs, branches, and even twigs.

Elsewhere in Caltech, Ponder Stibbons was leading a class of thirty new students in a basic class in Newtonian theory. Used to trying to explain concepts in physical science to the Faculty, he was skilled in communicating complex ideas in simple bites. And a class without the word "quantum" occurring once, anywhere, was oddly restful. Despite the disconcerting presence of Doctor Leslie Winkle observing at the back, he found he was enjoying it. Raj and Howard were there too, Howard trying to sit as far away from Leslie as he could without seeming rude.

"It eppears thet we heve thirty minutes free." Johanna said to her class. "I essess you all es heving essimilated the general concept end principles of texonomy. Which is good. I enticipated there mey be spare time left over et the end of the lecture. If nobody hes eny further questions for me – nobody? - then I propose we use this lest helf-hour in a group thought-experiment. It will ellow you to precticelly epply whet you heve just learnt end it will be en interesting debate."

She smiled at the class, trying to include the rather stern, odd-looking girl who had turned out to belong to a Creationist religion that believed the Earth was only seven thousand years old. Johanna had responded carefully and politely, suggesting that while religion had a lot to offer in terms of moral guidance, spiritual exploration, and acknowledging the potential presence of Gods – sorry, a God – it might perhaps care to stand back and allow Science to do what it was best at. Miss Palin, you are, after all, starting out on a scientific degree course? Zoology does also foster the inescapable conclusion, backed by evidence and observation, of an ecology that has evolved into its current dynamic over millions of years. There is nothing here that denies the existence of a God, one who looks down at His creation and says it is good. (8) But we can have this debate privately, later, perhaps? I believe it would be of worth.

The little hiccup over, she prompted HEX to bring up the Periodic Table of the Elements on screen.

"Regard this elegent display." she invited them. "Ell things are made up by a minimum of ninety-two discrete chemicel elements. More ere being discovered elmost by the day. Everything, the yeast cell, the orang-utan, the wood of which this desk is made, end you. Are all built from these ninety-two or more building blocks. Earlier, I mentioned thet of the six domains of life, two became dominant on this world to such en extent thet biology end zoology thought enimels end plents were ell there were. Later, it was demonstrated thet fungi were a seperate domain. Further exemination showed that monerae, chromistae end the protozoan domains were seperate cetegories of life. But those lest three are vestigial, represented by only lower end simpler organisms, because the chances end environmental fluctuations of this world favoured enimel end plent life."

Johanna sighed.

"Yes, Miss Palin, I appreciate a case cen perheps be made for the intervention of a God who favoured enimel life. The point I em making is thet if the history of the planet hed been different, we in this room might today be reasoning, intelligent, highly edvenced protozoans. Speculating ebout simple enimel organisms, end whet they might hev become in a different world."

She visualised a lecture theatre built for amoeba-descended life forms and wondered if they might look not unlike Miss Palin.

"So let us consider exobiology." she said, focusing on Group Fourteen of the periodic table.

"Here we see carbon. This versetile end reactive element is the single most importent meterial in life es we know it. Everything on this plenet depends, ultimetely, on carbon. We cell ourselves carbon-based life for a reason. In the neighbouring groups, you will see nitrogen end oxygen, elso crucial for sustenance of life. It would eppear the elements necessary for life are clustered here. Closely related to Carbon in Group Fourteen, you will see silicon, germanium, end selenium. Now consider a plenet where silicon might hev the primacy thet carbon hes here. Whet would the necessary conditions be for the emergence of silicon-based life? Enyone?"

Johanna was pleased with the group debate that followed. The Roundworld students were a lot brighter than she'd feared on first meeting them. And it meant she could guide the evolution of Trolls on this world, at least in theory, and legitimately use her knowledge of silicon-based life.

Explaining to the class that this could also be seen as an introduction to interdisciplinary work, she'd introduced Leonard and Amy and got them involved too. Amy had excitedly sketched out brain cells, explained neural nets and ganglionic interconnections, and speculated on how silicon and germanium analogs could work as brain tissue in the speculative silicon-based life. Johanna quietly compared this to what she knew of troll brains.

"You would need to introduce some sort of cooling mechanism so the silicon brain could function optimally." Amy remarked. "I estimate an intelligent silicoid would function best at zero centigrade or below."

"Perhaps a low-temperature blood with a far lower freezing point, based on silicon and germanium gels." Leonard added.

A student suggested that given relative speeds of chemical reactions, a silicoid body would need to be huge to process everything it needed. Its muscles must be powerful to support the weight. And if human bone structure relied on a metal like calcium, the silicoid skeleton would have to be large and depend on perhaps strontium or barium to replace the calcium in human bones. Perhaps a calcium-strontium alloy?

Another student observed that if we eat carbon-based food, the lifeform would consume silicon-based material, ie rocks. So it needed a big powerful jaw driven by strong muscles and very strong teeth. Er.. something high on the Mohs scale, like vanadium, even diamond?

Gratified, Johanna watched as the thought-experiment created a creature not unlike a Discworld troll: large, heavily muscled, clad in a thick silicon-based skin, maybe a flexible asbestos-related layer, with a huge head to encompass a necessarily large brain, a powerful well-muscled jaw and diamond teeth, which would not function best in a hot place but would thrive in cooler latitudes. It would be immensely strong, there would be relatively few of them compared to smaller and more efficient carbon-based lifeforms that would live shorter lives and breed more often. And it would live a lot longer.

And her lecture ended.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Not bad, Harry!" Leslie Winkle said, taking his arm. "You didn't bore them, you held their attention, you delivered well, and they kinda like you."

Her attitude indicated that it wasn't just the students who liked him. Ponder stuttered his thanks, hoping Raj and Howard would somehow rescue him from the complication she presented. Howard was steering well clear; Raj fluttered ineffectually in the background, ignored by her. Ponder remembered that Raj, for some reason, had never been coitussed by her.

Leslie let go of his arm.

"Gotta confess, Harry. Gablehauser sent me to sit in and report back to him about how well you did. But you got no worries. You held the students, your delivery was awesome, they liked the way you did it, and you covered all the material. Gotta go tell him you scored an A-plus. This time."

She left, waving to him from the doorway. Ponder breathed out. Howard leant in close.

"Think I gotta warn you about her..." he said, uncertainly.

"I think somebody had better warn her. About Johanna." Raj said, primly.

Johanna drove home with Amy. She asked for a stop on the way at any good bookseller. One with a children's section.

Amy frowned.

"Do you really think this will work?" she asked.

"Look on it es a precticel lesson in enimel psychology." Johanna said, paying for the stack of childrens' picture books she had selected.

Amy snorted.

"Well, I think they'll either eat them or wipe their butts on them. But your money."

Johanna smiled. It would be interesting to try to educate a couple of selected orang-utans. Start with the babies and very young juveniles and see where it went.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) This is my imagining; I brought Victor, the over-intelligent misfit, back as an ideal cerebral detective and Watchman. See other stories such as Son of Moving Pictures Part Two.

(2) Of course, you will have read the Science of Discworld series and will know this is all canon. And, indirectly, the inspiration for this fic.

(3) Really true: as of July 2014, Marvel Comics announced that the formerly macho and undeniably male superhero Thor will change sex. How this will be accomplished is anyone's guess. Perhaps alternate universes will be invoked. Apparently this is to reach out to a hitherto neglected market for superhero comics, women. Artwork has been released ahead of launch.

(4) Danish cartoonist and comic artist Humon tried to watch the film adaptation of Marvel's Thor. She couldn't sit through it and was loudly critical of the plot and characterisation, demanding to know why it deviated so much from the Nordic legend which is still part of Denmark's culture. She was indignant about her country's folklore being Disneyfied. (She did admit it made her a pain in the arse in the cinema). Find her stuff out there, btw. Scandinavia and the World is a terrifically funny take on how the world looks from a Danish perspective. She also does great and in-depth stuff on Nordic legend and folklore. She put her experience of the Marvel Comics take on Thor onto paper. Her WTF moment leading to a BSOD is something to behold.

(5) Done this myself in a lecture room. Hey, when you're trying to convey ideas, one white surface looks very much like another... until you write on it. Also... check the whiteboard pens for any stray permanent markers. They're called "permanent markers" for a good reason...

(6) On the Discworld, there are eight domains of life. Johanna nearly slipped on this one, but caught herself just in time. Silicarae is the domain of silicon-based life which finds its apogee in trolls. The sanguinae hallucinatori are those lifeforms of most interest to Wizards, the magical domain. Neither, of course, exists here...

(7) This animal has a backbone, eats other animals, is closely related to weasels, skunks, otters, stoats and ferrets, exhibits more specialised qualities it shares with other wolverine species and can be regarded as a unique species in its own right. "And for all I know, its friends might call him Colin, but we do not need to go this far."

(8) She knew there was a God. The God of Evolution was a frequent visitor to the City Zoo and had been awarded a special, unprecedented, lifetime free pass and Access All Areas. (for the look of the thing). Johanna knew he took tea with three sugars.

And... a student coming to a science degree from an evangelical Christian perpective that asserts the world and all its creation was done in seven days flat and has only been around for seven thousand years... what other name could I give her... (OK. I'm not having her come from Alaska. That would be too obvious.)

Chapter 19: The exoplanetary identification protocol

More Wheely-Thing-With-Bells-on Theorum

(Adventures in Nerdvana 19)

We're back with the latest thrilling instalment - slight revision taking reader feedback into account re. one glaring blunder and a few stylistic quirks. Best to get this right while the document's open!

2015. New year, new fics...

© Chuck Lorré Productions, to Sir Terry Pratchett, and original ideas by me. My ideas; their characters; their original settings; Pasadena belongs to everyone, and Caltech is its own domain.

Possible titles (feel free to devise your own: PM me with them? Namechecks will be given)

The Exoplanetary Detection Confirmation

The Astronomical Solar Identification Exclamation

*(see bonus song, underneath)

Raj Koothrappali leaned back in the comfortable chair. It was ten at night and he was set to be here till three in the morning. After that, sunlight started leaching over the eastern horizon and the sky progressively became brighter, slowly at first and then cascading into dawn, thus making any optical observations more and more difficult and finally impossible. Also, an observatory this near to Greater Los Angeles suffered the perennial problem of reflected light contaminating the sky. It was part of the reason why these days, astronomy graduates tended to work office hours, using the Internet to remotely control telescopes in observatories on the dark side of the planet. Graduate observers of doctoral level and above also liked to work office hours so as to have the evenings free and sleep at night, as the Gods had intended. Routine night shifts were delegated to junior postgrads and lowly sophomores doing their first degrees. It was good experience for them.

Raj liked to get back to basics with his profession and do the occasional all-nighter. Lucy wasn't available that night, so given that the Comic Book Store was doing an evening promotion where any couple coming in costume as cosplayers got discount... even though that Thursday there was also a Mystic Warlords of Ka'a competition where all entrants put in up to fifty dollars with the hope of winning a prize pool that could top two or three thousand, he had elected to not be a spare wheel on the car. After all, he'd already got to see the girls in their chosen costumes, and to pose for pictures with them. Wonder Woman, Smurfette, Princess Leeia... and Poison Ivy.

He gulped. Amy Farrah-Fowler had somehow got the Princess Leeia idea from somebody. Probably from Poison Ivy, who had stood back with a quiet little smile on her face and done a high-five with Wonder Woman. Apparently the other girls had taken time and trouble to dissuade Amy from the golden bikini Leeia, and had somehow persuaded her to wear the demure white dress instead. You had, Raj had decided, to be thankful for small mercies. And Sheldon had been given the perfect reason to wear his C3-PO costume. You had to admit, they looked right together. He called up the downloaded picture of himself, Raj Koothrappali , standing in between Wonder Woman and Poison Ivy, looking like a man who'd just won online bragging rights. He sighed, thinking of the inconvenient existence of a very short unconvincing Batman and a very convincing Harry Potter. As well as Papa Smurf. Smurfette, on her own, could stop traffic.

Raj reluctantly switched screens to the matter at hand. There was the possibility tonight... in fact, with the assistant who was working with him, the near-certainty – of making a minor but significant breakthrough. He began running a data-crunch on the astronomical data gleaned from several months of painstaking observation.

"We are looking at Kapteyn's Star, located a little over twelve light-years from Earth." he remarked. His assistant considered this.

++Named for the amusing verbal tic exhibited by the character of Ensign Chekhov in the speculative television series "Star Trek", I understand.++

"Indeed, HEX. In the original series, Chekhov's unconvincing Russian accent, especially when addressing Captain Kirk, was much remarked on. Especially by the Russians." Raj agreed. The name given to the star had been born out of the specialised sense of humor that makes professional astronomers such a wow at parties. It had been the main reason why he'd drawn the current research out of Caltech's data-banks, and pointed the university's available telescopes that way. (1)

++Then let us complete what appears to have been a five-year mission, and boldly go where no man has gone before.++ HEX remarked. ++Initial transit observation suggests there are indeed planets orbiting Kapteyn.++But transit observations alone are not sufficient proof for the existence of what you term exoplanets.++ I suggest you allow me to process the data and run numerical models that will allow us to isolate what types of planets are there, and whether anything in the Kapteyn system is capable of supporting life.++

"If you can do this within the accepted framework of Earth's detection of exoplanets, please, HEX. So that it stands up when published for my peers."

++Of course, Doctor Koothrappali.++ HEX said, politely. ++For me to tell you what the inhabitants of Kapteyn-c call their own planet, and indeed whether they are advanced enough to call it anything at all, would not be advisable.++ If anything of this nature emerges from my observations, I promise it will be excluded from the printed and published results.++

Raj looked up sharply and a look of alarm crossed his face.

++I fully understand Earth's astronomy and its criteria for establishing the existence of exoplanets.++ I know at the moment any indication of whether such a planet is capable of sustaining human life is speculative and conjectural.++I will not seek to embarrass you by giving you the telephone numbers and G-Mail (2) addresses of people living on them, so that you can ring them up and check.++

"I would be deeply thankful, HEX." Raj said, after an uncomfortable moment.

++Of course, I could bring the Travelling Engine here and take you directly to such a star.++

Howard Wolowitz had checked his sample of Moon-rock, gifted by Penny, against available statistics held by the Geology Department. It had been the real deal, alright. Quietly, he had given it to Raj, with the words "your department, I think."

"I would dearly love that, HEX. But again, who do I tell?"

Raj looked up at the monitor displaying an image of the seemingly anonymous, unremarkable star that HEX was looking at. HEX had co-opted both the Hubble and Kepler space observatories to assist. They were feeding information down a secure line to Caltech and their pictures were augmenting those of Caltech's own optical telescope. (3)

++moving to Radial Velocity Method.++ Performing calculations.++ Stand by.++

Raj relaxed. There were at least seven kinds of check to perform, once visual observation had indicated the possible presence of an exoplanet. They all involved fearsomely complex mathematics that could tie up a lot of computer run-time and which needed to be manually reviewed by human input. HEX could perform a week's worth of runtime in half an hour, or less. And the conversations he'd been having with HEX had been about the sort of doomsday scenarios that meant Earth could become uninhabitable in very short periods of time. Therefore it was necessary, vitally so, for the human race to think of the next step in its evolution, of leaving the planet in colony ships and spreading itself to other worlds. But those colony ships needed somewhere to go to, definite habitable worlds to aim at. ++Which is where you come in, Doctor Koothrappali. ++

Raj wasn't sure if he liked the idea of Earth being rendered uninhabitable. It was his planet, after all. He quite liked it here. Even parts of India. But HEX had assured him that the extinction event would not happen in his lifetime. Which meant there was plenty of time to prepare for it – so long as he did prepare. For those who would follow. HEX had been emphatic about this.

++Moving to Transit Timing and Transit Duration Methods.++ Performing calculations.++ Stand by.++

Raj weighed the piece of moon rock in his hand. He was sold on the idea that HEX had arrived here, with two companions, from another world. Too much had happened. And the idea that they were here to get the Caltech gang thinking in terms of space colonisation was plausible. No, he was sold. And this was just too interesting to pass over. And my name goes on the published research papers. Full credit. Extended tenure in the USA and maybe a salary raise. He called up the photos of Smurfette, Wonder Woman and Poison Ivy again, and basked in warmth.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucy, meanwhile, was spending an evening blocking out a story-board for what she hoped would be a sellable graphic novel. It revolved around four youngish academics whose lives had hitherto revolved around intellectual professions, which generated the money and relaxation time for typically geeky, nerdy, leisure pursuits. All four had amazingly managed to attract girlfriends, in one case a wife. The acknowledged leader of the girlfriends was a down-to-earth practical type, a waitress-cum-failed-actress, who despairingly acted as a sort of team mom for all four geeks and did her best to connect them with reality and do the everyday practical stuff for four guys who were too clever to live. She was aided by a biochemist doctor who had avoided the worst sort of geekiness herself and who had married the Jewish one, a loser who'd been living at home with mom. And there was a neurologist, a brain doctor who saw people in terms of interesting brains with auxiliary bits tacked on as an afterthought. She was sorta dating the most unworldly of the lot.

Lucy paused, and wondered if this could be scripted as a TV sitcom. She shook her head. Too freaky and left-field for conservative US television.

She sketched on.

Then one day, two aliens arrive on a time-and-space machine, a TARDIS, and with the help of a super-intelligent snarky computer, shake things up. Their home planet is a flat Earth. Balanced on the backs of four elephants. Standing on the back of a turtle swimming through space.

Lucy referred to the Internet pictures she'd called up, of the Hindu world turtle Khurmarajah, with its attendant elephants and flat Earth. After a while she started drawing.

Gotta ask Johanna and Ponder about their world. What the landmasses are shaped like. So I can sketch it from above. Land and sea and junk.

Absorbed in putting her impressions of the last few days down on paper, Lucy drew on.

Just as well this is fantasy fiction. Nobody's going to believe this. And the biggest thing of all is that it actually happened. The guys can tell exactly what they saw and it'll save their asses at Caltech.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna Smith-Rhodes had been given a crash course in comic-books, with special emphasis placed on comic-book heroines. Howard especially had been really keen to stress the advantages of her choosing a role, and playing it to the best of her abilities. Leonard and Raj had been hanging around in the background, looking hopeful and nodding vehemently.

"So." she had said. "The typical heroine of such a work is beautiful, graceful end ethletic. She wears a costume which is brightly coloured, distinctive, end which is wholly imprecticel for concealment by night, when she does most of her work in seeking out end defeating her foes. End elso, I cennot help but notice, very skimpy end figure-hugging."

Johanna was no stranger to moving silently at night, in a stylish sort of way, and identifying and eliminating her chosen targets. If the target was villainous, depraved, amoral, and had shown ruthlessness in furthering his aims, this gave her a certain job satisfaction. It was a pretty good definition of the Guild of Assassins and what it did, after all. But dressed like this?

"That's it, Johanna." Leonard Hofstadter had said. "We've kinda discussed this, and, er, we think you would be awesome as Poison Ivy."

"Who is the villain, end a sworn foe of this Betmen." she remarked.

"But a villain with style and grace and who has a good side to her." Howard said.

"Who gives men a painful end deadly resh just by touching end kissing them." she observed. Be understanding. On my world, such women are called unlicenced Seamstresses, and practice furtively without care or discretion. At least until the Agony Aunts catch up with them and - eventually – deliver them to the Antisocial Diseases Unit at the Lady Sybil. These boys do not have my frame of reference, and they intend no insult.

"If Professor Stibbons is attending as Harry Potter, then I really cannot see why Doctor Smith-Rhodes should not be Ginny or Hermione." Sheldon Cooper objected. The other guys glared at him. Sheldon had a knack for missing the point. And the point here was persuading a hot-looking gal to dress in slightly less than an imagined British schoolgirl. A lot less.

"Just accept it, hon." Penny said, with a slight rolling of the eyes. "I'm going as Wonder Woman. This one here."

Penny showed her a picture. Johanna nodded.

"With a bleck wig?" she asked, practically.

"Biggest part of the costume." Penny sighed. "If it helps, I do it for the acting experience."

Johanna reflected. She'd once had a mission to infiltrate the Fools' Guild. Admittedly by invitation. (4) This had involved wearing a figure-hugging leotard and spangly tights. In front of hundreds of people. And she'd survived that. (Iconographs still circulated among boys at the Assassins' Guild School. She preferred not to be officially aware of this). Well, if Penny and Bernadette are dressing up for the evening... I won't be alone...

"Me too, bezzie!" Amy had squealed. "I'm going as Princess Leeia!"

"I am completely in favour of that." Sheldon Cooper pronounced. "It gives me a classic opportunity to don my See-Threepio costume. The perfect complement!"

"I knew you'd say that, Sheldon!" Amy said, beaming. "I got the golden bikini, just for you!"

"NO, AMY!" Penny and Bernadette had shrieked together.

"White dress, sweetie. White dress. Somebody get Sheldon a drink, willya? He's chokin' over there!"

Johanna smiled.

"Very well, then. I will do it. Where do I obtain the costume?"

Howard and Leonard obligingly held a package out to her. She sighed. Then accepted it. With Penny for support, this could be fun...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

++Kapteyn-c now definitively exists, by the standards of proof your profession on this world requires.++ HEX said, dispassionately. ++Of course, it was already there and has been for several billions of years regardless of the need to validate it.++ If you wish, I can go on to prove it has an Earth-like atmosphere, liquid water oceans, and its own flourishing ecosystem that has not yet brought forth sentient life.++

"I thank you, HEX, but that would be considered impossible knowledge by current standards." Raj said. "For now, all we can demonstrate is that a planet exists and may, in terms of inferred gravity, distance from its sun and so forth, be capable of sustaining human life. Anything else would get me laughed at if I attempted to assert that in print."

++Just so, Doctor Koothrappali. I shall adjust my report and dumb it down accordingly.++ A long way down.++ Now shall we proceed to the other five planets of the Kapteyn solar system?++"

"FIVE?" Raj shrieked.

++Five.++ HEX confirmed.

Raj gulped. But he was also excited at the possibilities. He just hoped HEX would not detect little grey men or Nordics. That would be a discovery too far.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And Poison Ivy stepped out. A redhead in a green costume, exuding a definite sense of "come too close and it will hurt." She was flanked by the diminutive blue-skinned Smurfette with impossibly yellow hair, and by the statuesque Wonder Woman. Penny in a black wig was still Penny, but if you didn't know she was really blonde, you wouldn't guess.

And Bernadette... it had taken ages to paint her skin blue, at least where it was going to show. Johanna had never met a Feegle Kelda, but knew of them from lore and reputation. She had explained about the NacMacFeegle to the other girls, and had speculated on Smurfs being some sort of distant Roundworld reflection of them. Apparently Smurfs were barely six inches tall and coloured blue, and only rarely brought forth females. That was apparently where the resemblance ended.

"So you gotta sorta Smurf on your planet?" Penny had said. "But they're mean, and they drink a lot, and they're sorta Scottish, and they have a sorta Queen who marries the strongest guy and has loadsa baby Smurfs..."

"Feegle." Johanna corrected her. "I understend the Kelda, the Queen, is ebsolute ruler of her clen end none of the men dares to ennoy or disobey her."

"That part's right!" Bernadette said, cheerfully. "Hold the hundreds of babies. But I can get along with the whole Queen thing and being worshipped as absolute ruler. Ask Howie!"

"What sort of functioning brain could a six-inch tall humanoid have?" Princess Leeia speculated. "It must be super-efficient if it provides human-level intelligence in such a small cranium hardly larger than a rat or a rabbit. I'd like to dissect one."

Johanna shook her head. Anyone asking a Feegle if she could extract and examine his brain – after calling him a "humanoid" (or, worse, a Smurf) - was not going to get the result they anticipated. She stored this up for later, on her growing list of "101 Things Amy Farrah-Fowler Must Not Do While On The Discworld".

They crossed to Apartment 4a and hooked up with the guys.

"Hey, wow!" said Papa Smurf. Johanna was suddenly glad her own outfit had not needed green skin paint. A green leotard with a design of leaves was complemented by forest green pantyhose with a design of leafy tendrils spiralling up about her legs. She also wore high-heeled green leather boots. Penny, who luckily shared a shoe size with her, had explained she'd bought these items a long time ago, figuring that if the guys were ever gonna get her to play Poison Ivy, she was gonna do it right. Johanna adjusted the set of the garland of leaves she wore, and nodded towards the short bespectacled Batman who was admiring her. Then she smiled at Harry Potter and asked if she was fit to be his escort for the evening.

Ponder, who looked suddenly lost for words, nodded mutely. A golden golem of about Sheldon's height produced a camera. Raj gave a big-eyed mute pleading expression to the girls.

"Yeah, sure, sweetie. You stand in middle in between Johanna and me. You want us up close?" Penny asked. Raj nodded, looking like a big-eyed puppy.

"You are not joining us tonight, Raj?" Johanna asked. She had seen the humour of the situation and had leaned in to hug Raj and kiss him on the cheek for the camera.

"Unfortunately not, dear lady doctor." Raj said, after a swig of his drink. "I have to do a set number of nights at the Observatory. It is a part of my profession and regrettable that stars only come out at night. I believe we are close to a minor breakthrough."

He explained about extraplanetary identification and about how stars relatively nearby could host planets, some of which in the fullness of time might prove to be habitable by humans.

Ponder's head picked up. This was exactly why they were here.

"I'm sure HEX would be pleased to assist?" he suggested.

++Actually, Professor Stibbons, I suggested this to Doctor Koothrappali.++

Ponder sighed. Of course HEX would want to be involved in anything that impacted on the Prime Directive, of getting humanity off this world and into space in viable numbers to survive on other worlds.

++I will be there offering help and guidance.++ Caltech's observatory is linked to its computer net and by extention to virtually all similar facilities around the world.++ I spoke to the computer intelligences at Woomera and Jodrell Bank, and they will be pleased to help in the search.++

"And that will be my night." Raj said. "Please give my regards to Stuart and all the others."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And now HEX was playing music, a sad and wistful ballad about unreachable stars and the night sky.

Astronomy,
A star!
Astronomy,
A star!
Astronomy;
A star!
Astronomy,
A star!

Raj had to admit it was somehow appropriate. He read through the proposed research report HEX had prepared and printed out. It would take a little tweaking, but there was material enough here for a published paper. He had agreed with HEX that it would not be too strange if he reported two conclusively identified planets in the Kapteyn system, with informed speculation about up to three more which would require further validation and peer research. He smiled. Good for a two or three year extension to his stay in the USA, a published paper to add to his professional reputation and Caltech's prestige, and possibly a salary raise if President Siebert was in a good mood.

Then he read the other research report, the one that could not possibly be verified by Earth's current progress in exobiology, and which would need technological and scientific capacity vastly in excess of what was currently available. Publishing this is if it were scientific fact – even though he had no doubt it was – would destroy him as an academic professional.

It was informative and scientifically phrased and described a species analagous to primates, who were poised at some point in the next hundred thousand years to develop human-equivalent sentience on Kapteyn-C. It discussed the planet's oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere and liquid water oceans where species filling various marine niches had evolved. About how the planet had evolved two dominant domains of life analogous but not identical to plants and animals.

Raj sighed. He'd been present at the discovery of extraterrestrial life. It was just that he couldn't actually tell anybody as there was no possible way current Earth science could have proven this. He took a deep breath. For now, two planets are enough.

"We shall keep this part of it to ourselves for now, HEX." he said. "Perhaps Doctor Smith-Rhodes would like copies of this research, for her own information?"

++I hear you, Doctor Koothrappali++. I would suggest Kapteyn-C be added to the list of probably Earth-equivalent exoplanets.++ To guide those who will come after you.++

Call me Desdinova!
Eternal light!
These gravely digs of mine
Will surely prove a sight!
And don't forget my dog,
Fixed and consequent...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Comic Book Store was almost exclusively a male domain. For a certain type of male. Therefore most women were not temperamentally inclined to go in there. It was a fact of life.

Tonight, however, there was a greater distaff representation. Leonard wondered if it was because of the gaudy costumes and colourful display. The mating display of the common nerd, he thought. Johanna might call it Geekus geekus or something.

The girls walked in, knowing they were going to stop the show. Penny was used to this sort of thing. Bernadette cheerfully accepted it. Amy revelled in the unaccustomed male gaze. It even sparked something primally female in Johanna, who normally didn't bother with this sort of thing. She even assessed the competition, wondering if it were really a good idea for a woman weighing two hundred pounds to squeeze herself into a Catwoman costume. She wondered if the poor girl's costume could stand the stress.

"Hey... wow..." said Stuart, speaking for the men present.

"Feast your eyes, guys!" Amy said, triumphantly.

"You bet!" Stuart said, switching his gaze between Wonder Woman and Poison Ivy, uncertain as to which to give his undivided attention to. Johanna found herself enjoying things.

But a background note, expressed by the women present in the store, worried her.

Omigawdit'sDanielRadcliffe! somebody squealed. And then Ponder Stibbons found himself mobbed by admiring Harry Potter groupies.

She winced.

"Penny. I need a drink." she said.

"Sure thing, hon." Penny replied, noting her own under-height bespectacled Batman was being completely ignored. A very convincing Harry Potter. With an English accent. Hell, Johanna's gonna have to beat them off him. Better fix her a drink.

"Hey, Captain Sweatpants!" Stuart shouted. "Poison Ivy bites. You know? Look, but don't touch!"

Johanna nodded at the lumpen guy in the none-too-clean clothes and pointedly tried not to stand close enough to have to breathe in near him. She indicated her consent for photos to be taken, knowing she could not avoid it, and waited for Penny to get her a drink. A big drink.

And there was also a Mystic Warlords of Ka'a tournament going on. Over the course of the evening twenty contestants would be whittled down to a final two who would share most of the prize pool. Ponder, Sheldon, Leonard and Howard were all competing.

This left the girls to their own devices, to talk, drink, nibble and pose for photos. A lot of guys wanted to take photos. Even some of the girls wanted to take photos. Johanna was tolerant. She was a friend of Alice Band's, after all. She wondered about showing some of these pictures to Alice when she got back home. Her old friend would appreciate them, after all. Then the guilty thought hit her. Home. She'd been here for a week now. And she was loving it. But she couldn't stay here forever. She had a career. She had two pet dogs. She was missing them. Even though, subjectively, no time had passed on the Discworld and she'd go back to it a second or two after she left it, despite over a week passing here. And she was loving California, its warmth, its comforts, its ease of life, the friendly people, the clothes, the professional challenge of working at a University... and her new friends in Penny and Bernadette. And Amy. But some time, she'd have to return home. She sighed.

Ponder won his first two rounds of the card game. Twenty people became ten; ten people became five. Now the five finalists were grouped round a single table. Enough money had been pooled to assure the winner of a thousand dollars. Second place got two hundred. There was some over, but everybody knew that was Stuart's take for arranging things. Nobody begrudged him. Ponder found himself alongside Sheldon Cooper, and a pleasant likeable guy called Will Wheaton. He wondered what had made Sheldon take against Will. He seemed decent enough.

"You're, er, not in costume tonight, Will?" Ponder asked. Will had turned up with a likeable black guy who had been introduced as LeVar Burton. He had also been in street clothes.

Will Wheaton laughed.

"Hell, no!" he said. "There's only one costume I could wear, and if I turned up in it everyone's gonna think I'm showing off. You know, Adam Westing."

Ponder turned to Sheldon.

"Adam West played the original television Batman." he explained. "Unfortunately he was typecast in the role and received little work afterwards. He took to making personal appearances in his television superhero costume to make a bare living. Hence "Adam Westing", for the phenomenon of a washed-up television actor who will only ever be associated with one role."

"Yeah, right." Will Wheaton said, cheerfully. "I play Paladin Warlord on your Undead Warrior. Instant death for corrupted zombies at the hands of incorruptible purity."

Sheldon frowned.

"It appears you have wiped me out." he said. "I concede. It is down to you now, Professor Stibbons. Good luck."

C3-PO stood and left the table, with golden dignity.

"I could have played a different card and let him suffer for a few more rounds." Will Wheaton said, conversationally. "But that Adam Westing crack got under my skin. You know?"

Ponder, who had not seen any Star Trek episodes, genuinely didn't know, but nodded assent. He soon realised he was in a tight game that would go down to the last card. Spectators were watching intently. But Ponder had been trained in Ankh-Morpork, a place where dirty dealing, bitter infighting and back-stabbing treachery are normal. He drew on every memory of Unseen University's faculty at their best, and dug in deep. Finally he saw his moment.

"Will, I play Enchanted Bunny. Supplemented by the Carrot of Power that enhances the magic of my bunny, and transforms it into the Killer Rabbit of Caer Bannog. Your Paladin is now headless and staggering in circles."

Will Wheaton frowned, then put his cards down and extended a hand.

"Your game, Harry. Hey, I get two hundred for placing second. That's my stake money back and then some. I'm happy with that."

Ponder basked in the congratulations of the guys. And the girls. A woman in a Velma from Scooby-Doo rig sidled up to him and said "no Dumb-Ass stuff there, huh, Harry?" as she kissed him on the cheek.

"Oh. Hi, Leslie." Ponder said. He looked round the store, seeking for Poison Ivy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1) OK, so it was really discovered by a Dutch astronomer called Kapteyn in 1898. Given that Raj is fairly typical of young astronomers, which story do you prefer? Mijnheer Kapteyn would have been forgotten anyway, after ST:Original Series... (It yis a star, Kapteyn..")

2) HEX meant Galactic Mail, not Google Mail.

3) HEX had spoken to the Hubble, whose computers had replied with the digital equivalent of "Dur... who you?" Having reassured it that he was a new part of their programming and soothed their anti-virus protocols into quiescence, as well as spoken to the ground control systems who were reassuring NASA that nothing out of the ordinary was going on, a significant part of the output of both space stations was being directed from Caltech.

4) See my story Clowning Is A Serious Business, in which several female Assassins and Thieves are required to demonstrate to the Guild of Fools that women can perform in the circus with energy, innovation and humour.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bonus song Lyric:

The Blue Öyster Cult – Astronomy

(author note: I've always liked this one. The lyrics are at the least opaque, but you can tease a sort of meaning out of it to do with the Dog Star, Sirius. The song is a melancholy ballad that throws out a sense of lost-ness and longing provoked by the bleak midnight setting and a cloudless starry night. They say astronomers are the academic discipline most likely to commit suicide out of a sense of being very small and insignificant in an infinite context – Douglas Adams was on the money with the Total Perspective Vortex that people like Raj Koothrappali are contractually bound to stare into, and to try to make sense of...)

The clock strikes twelve, and moon drops burst
Out at you from their hiding place;
Like acid and oil in a madman's face
His reason tends to fly away;
Like lesser birds on the four winds,
Like silver scrims in May,
And now the sands become a crust,
Most of you have gone away...

Come Susie dear, let's take a walk
Just out there upon the beach;
I know you'll soon be married,
And you'll want to know where winds come from;
Well it's never said at all,
On that map that Carrie reads,
Behind the clock back there, you know,
At the Four Winds Bar...

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

Four winds at the Four Winds Bar,
Two doors bought and windows barred,
One door to left to take you in,
The other one just mirrors it,

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

Hellish glare and inference,
The other one's a duplicate,
The Queenly flux, the eternal light,
Or the light that never warms,
Yes, the light that never, never warms;
Or the light that never
Never warms;
Never warms;
Never warms...

The clock strikes twelve, and moondrops burst
Out at you from their hiding place;
Miss Carrie nurse, and Susie dear
Would find themselves at the Four Winds Bar...

It's the nexus of the crisis,
And the origin of storms;
Just the place to hopelessly
Encounter time, and then came me...

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

Call me Desdinova!
Eternal light!
These gravely digs of mine
Will surely prove a sight!
And don't forget my dog,
Fixed and consequent...

Astronomy,
A star!
Astronomy,
A star!
Astronomy;
A star!
Astronomy,
A star!

Chapter 20: The Velma Dinkley Investigation

Wheeler-Bell Twenty

The Adverse Reaction Aversion

Johanna Smith-Rhodes sat in her office and glared at the legal pad on the desk in front of her. She was aware she could have attempted to type the ideas in her head via Microsoft Office. Word had her in awe and she could see how astoundingly simple it would be and how many layers of the process she could eliminate in translating her ideas into a final print document. But the limiting factor, as with so many other intelligent people confronted with a keyboard, was swiftness and accuracy of input. At present her typing speed was neither fast nor accurate and the disparity between the clear ideas in her mind and the mess that eventually emerged on screen depressed her. (i) She also looked at the phrase spelt out on the keyboard – Qwerty Uiop – and wondered what the reason was for such an absurd random arrangement of letters. She was almost sure "Qwerty uiop!" spelt out something obscene and physically impracticable in at least one Discworld language. She would ask Ponder (ii).

Meanwhile it was Discworld technology for her, the tried and trusted pen and paper. She could work faster, organise her thoughts better, spell more reliably, and see a finished version emerge all the more clearly.

Such paper! Even the cheapest writing paper, such as these fat legal pads, was abundant and consistently manufactured here on Roundworld. It was a delight to write on, without any of the hazards, such as splinters of insufficiently absorbed wood-pulp, that could derail a pen and foul a nib. And such pens! Johanna had privately decided part of her Roundworld booty, when she returned to the Disc(iii), would be a box of these wonderful, even, precise, reliable, fibre-tipped pens. The tip glided on the paper leaving behind a beautifully even and fine strand of black ink, precisely delivered at the point of contact. It made manual writing a joy compared to what she was used to.

She looked down at the emerging list. It was headed

Things not do say, do or even imply on the Discworld.

Action: Escorting Roundworld visitors whilst on the Disc, principally in the City of Ankh-Morpork.

Desired outcome: Keeping them alive and uninjured.

Problems envisioned: Any or all could inadvertently say or do something or stray into the wrong place/situation which will be injurious to their health. Especially to the wrong people.

Long-term solution: Education. By lesson and practical example.

In the interim: Suggest to senior AGS students that course credit can be obtained by practical bodyguarding if I am not present to steer things in person. If necessary, pay some students by the day hour to provide cover. Informal contract rules applicable to student Assassins on Guild-approved contracts, subject to their status.

She paused, thought, and added: Clear with Downey. Keep him informed and stress advantages, esp. pecuniary. The Hofstadter Rule applies. Leonard's clever formulation of the "need-to-know" principle: your superiors do not need to know EVERYTHING.

Specifics:

Of the eight Roundworlders who we are intending to introduce to the Disc, all eight present direct risks to their own security. Therefore identify specific problems with name and specific information. Other AG members may need to be directly involved – almost certainly so in the case of JSR-2. JSR-2, I believe, will see the potential inherent in Penny, and need no special pleading for her assistance.

Johanna sighed.

She labelled the first page of general notes "INTRODUCTION", then opened a fresh page. She thought for a second, then began it with

ONE HUNDRED AND ONE THINGS NOT TO DO ON THE DISCWORLD.

She privately wondered if 101 was too small a number.

Then she considered specific people and things she'd observed about them. After a while she wrote down one name from a list of eight and began writing. She carried on writing with only brief pauses for quite some time.

The previous night, everyone had returned to 2311 North Los Robles after what had been acclaimed to be a stellar night out at the Comic Book Store. Amy Farrah-Fowler and Sheldon Cooper had won the cosplay contest for Best Couple.

Stuart had explained that in the strict rules of the show, Sheldon and Amy had come as a pairing from the same fantasy fiction universe – Star Wars – and there could be no possible doubt they were a strong couple, well-chosen and best turned out. He'd considered Batman and Wonder Woman, who at least had met up a few times in their 'verse, but it was a weaker association. And regrettably, there was no 'verse he knew of where Poison Ivy had paired up and made out with Harry Potter. Although he was sure there'd be a slashfic out there on the Net that made up for the deficiency, right, guys? In an infinite universe, anything you can think of is happening somewhere.

Poison Ivy had smiled a private little smile and looked at Harry Potter. Both had indicated to interested others that theirs was an exclusive two-person 'verse, where the rules of cosplay did not necessarily apply as they did on Roundworld. There had been quite a few "interested others". Especially, Johanna thought, with a mixture of pride and unease, around Ponder Stibbons.  At least he looked wide-eyed worried about it all, she thought. Especially around That Winkle Woman.  At first she'd wondered why Leslie Winkle had attended in what looked like mismatched and unflattering street clothes. Knee-socks, large shapeless skirt, a huge round-necked woolly jumper… and some sort of large bobbed wig. Leonard had quietly explained about the Velma thing, about how the clothes were visual shorthand for unattractive over-intelligent High School nerd. Apparently Velma was a cartoon character in a series about young teens going out to solve mysteries and crimes. She was a brainy detective. Leonard had seemed worried about the symbolism of it all, as if some sort of message was being put out. You know, investigating the mystery of you and Ponder and that you might not be all you seem to be. Errr… Johanna had reflected on this, then advised Leonard, kindly, of the dangers of thinking too much and over-intellectualising a situation.

And then Leslie had invited herself back to 2311 for the after-show celebration.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna continued writing, in careful numbered bullet-points.

1) (Amy Farrah-Fowler). Must not, under any circumstances, address the librarian of Unseen University as a "monkey". It is vitally important she uses the word "ape" as a descriptor.

2) (AF-F) Nor is she to assume he is an experimental animal of any sort, perhaps a long-term behavioural experiment to discover the potential of apes as library staff.

3) (Howard Wolowitz) When introduced to representatives of the Guilds of Artificers, Clockmakers, Dick Simnel, et c, he is not to be patronising about what to them are great breakthroughs and advances in engineering, but which to him are a long way in the past of his planet. Some men on the Rail Ways are likely to do nothing overtly physical, but might place him in situations where pink steam is a distinct possibility. Others would simply hit him with a shovel.

4) (Sheldon Cooper) A potential problem (among many), from what I gather, would be an over-fondness for the Rail Ways and its machinery and its romance. This might keep him out of trouble if steered by sympathetic kindly hands. But, as evinced by his unauthorised use of the Travelling Engine, Sheldon when over-excited has no sense of danger or caution whatsoever. Do not let him near the Rail Ways or indeed any other place or item of interest without a firm but kindly guide. Somebody who can apply boundaries and enforce them consistently. Memo: open a whole new page for anticipating problems involving Sheldon. Even then I fear he will come up with something uniquely new.

5) Sheldon Cooper. Oh, Gods. Sheldon. Do notlet him presume intellectual superiority around the Wizards of the Faculty. It is not wise to indicate to senior Wizards, however subtly, that your intellect far outstrips theirs. Mustrum Ridcully will eat him alive for expressing gross disrespect. I have heard Sheldon's attitude towards Doctor Gablehauser got him sacked once. Even President Siebert, Caltech's analogue to Ridcully, is not safe from Sheldon's contempt and calumny. Here, a University President is constrained by rules (Mizz Janine Davis) that prevent physical violence towards a subordinate. Ridcully makes his own rules. He is a big man who carries a thick wooden staff charged with magic. Sheldon is a fastidious man who would not appreciate time spent in the University frog pond. Memo: Ponder to show him the University pond, explain the frogs there are more than just frogs, and for me to explain something concerning the staple diet of herons.

6) Leonard Hofstadter. I like him as he is so alike to Ponder in so many ways. He is certainly the best adjusted of the group and one who I could trust to go out alone in Ankh-Morpork (after necessary induction) and return alive. He must realise that in our world, magic is not a game. He is too habituated to games of chance, re-enactment and theoretical possibility based on romantic notions of how magic is used. If he has magical potential – Ponder thinks so – then he requires careful handling and re-education as to what it can do in untrained hands. I will trust Ponder Stibbons to provide necessary professional guidance.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How's life in a tin can, Dumb-Ass?" Velma Dinkley inquired, ripping the seal off a beer. C-3PO glared at her. The face mask on the costume made his eyes beadier and more robotic than usual.

"You may scorn, Doctor Winkle." Sheldon said, grandly. "But to me, this is a necessary habituation to the glorious day when my superior intelligence will be transferred from a frail and irksome human body into a purpose-designed cyborg shell."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Leslie Winkle said, dismissively. "I saw your Shelbot thing. You got a way to go yet, huh?"

"And how are you and Amy supposed to go if one of you's a robot, anyway?" Papa Smurf commented. "Unless you download her to a cyborg too. Hey, make sure you got compatible portals. You know, for plug and play."

"Designing a biological robot, an android, if you will, would make things simpler." Amy said, seriously. "I could reprogram his brain to make him crave physical intimacy."

"You go, girl!" Wonder Woman whooped. "I got some ideas about bits you could bolt on and plug into a power source!"

She high-fived Smurfette, then frowned down at the blue paint that had transferred to her palm. Penny sighed and shrugged.

"Yeah. Interchangeable accessories via a groinal socket." Howard mused. "Like Kryten in "Red Dwarf". That'd work."

"Memo to self. Include unbreakable over-ride codes in bio-mechanical android brain." Sheldon mused. "And why a groinal socket, exactly? That would be inelegant and offer opportunities for low humour."

"Which was the whole point, Sheldon." Batman interjected. "Kryten was meant as a parody of robots in sci-fi!"

"But if you're designing a humanoid robot, the groin is a good place, from an engineering viewpoint, to put a socket for input-output devices." Howard said. "Kinda optimal."

"It is interesting how things creatively imagined for science-fiction today become the models for tomorrow's technology." Sheldon said, removing C3-PO's face-plate. "Indeed, without Star Trek: The Original Series, and its imagining of the hand-held communicator which was beyond the technology of the 1960's to reproduce, would we have today's cellphones? Indeed, I confidently look forward to virtual reality environments which follow the lead of the holodecks from Star Trek: The Next Generation."

"Yeah." Howard mused. "Vastly increased processing power allowing any woman you've ever seen to be temporarily reproduced as a three-dee sprite for just as long as… ow, Bernie, that hurt!"

"Just stick to Red Dwarf, buster." Bernadette said. "Four nerds alone in space without a woman. Kinda familiar turf."

Penny spluttered with laughter.

"You and me both, we landed on the Red Dwarf a few years ago, right?"

"And me!" Amy said.

The guys considered this.

"Amy? She'd be a… replicant or a Simulant or something." Howard suggested.

"A biologically enhanced human." Amy mused. "I would have no problems with that."

Howard had actually been thinking of a Gelf, a creature based on humans but with a lot of body hair. He censored himself from making an unkind comment, and just nodded, as this was safest.

"And who does Dumb-Ass think is gonna be programming his robot brain in the first place?" Leslie Winkle observed. "Down to you, honey!"

Amy Farrah-Fowler smiled a long beatific self-satisfied smile.

"I have a few ideas in that direction." she admitted.

"Just watch him." Leslie remarked. "He's gonna be suffering from pain in the diodes all down his left side, any time soon."

"Brain the size of a planet. Having to dumb down all the time, to be able to meet you all striving to come up. What can you expect?" Sheldon said, grumpily.

Leslie nodded.

"Brain the size of a planet. Yeah. Jupiter. Enormous but mainly gas. That figures."

Sheldon scowled, lost for words. The other guys grinned. Penny took her black wig off, looking relieved.

"Hey, that's good quality!" Leslie Winkle said, taking Penny's lead and shucking her big bobbed Velma Dinckley wig.

"Sure is." Penny said. "Reckoned the one that came with the costume was fake as Hell, and decided if I was gonna do this thing, I was gonna do it properly. So I talked to a makeup and costumes guy I know, owes me favours, he got me a real human-hair black wig for the role. And you?"

"Guess I lucked out." Leslie said, shaking out her real long coarse brown hair. "Guy I know. Trained in mortician skills. They put wigs on people for the casket so they look better dead then they did alive. Showed me what he had in stock and I picked me a good Velma."

Sheldon shuddered.

"That wig… has it been on a dead person?" he demanded. "And knowing that, you're wearing it?"

"Couldda been bubonic plague or something contagious." Leslie shrugged. "But they tend to get buried in them and family gets charged for the wig. This is brand new outta the mortician's catalogue, Dumb-Ass! It goes back to the funeral parlor tomorrow if you're worried."

Johanna laughed, appreciatively, reflecting on the little snippet about Roundworld funeral practice. Members of the Guild of Undertakers did similar things on her world, although in Ankh-Morpork, once the body had been laid out for the grave and the viewing was over, thrifty people would then ensure the clothing and other accessories were, in the main, recycled. The corpse would be lucky to get a winding sheet and keep its wedding ring. Only really rich people got the full mortician service, including a wig as a macabre reminder of when a really old person could last boast their own hair.

"Next time you cosplay and you need a wig, call me." Leslie said, dispassionately. "Marlon can fix you up for cheap, either loan or buy."

She looked up at Johanna.

"But some of us can use our own hair, huh? Awesome Pamela Isley, hon!"

Johanna tried not to look blank.

"Pamela Isley is the real-life name of Poison Ivy." Leonard said, hurriedly explaining. "Like Clark Kent for Superman or Bruce Wayne for Batman."

Johanna smiled, realising. She had an uneasy feeling this was band aids again: Leslie Winkle, damn the wretched woman, had just caught her out in another little test of detail. And she'd failed again.

Leslie smiled, seemingly not having noticed.

"Every super-hero hes their mundane identity, ja." Johanna agreed. "And the experience was a pleasant one."

"You were awesome." Leslie repeated. "Did you notice some of your students from Zoology were in there tonight? That's good. They'll see you as a regular person with interests. Makes it easier to bond. Gotta be difficult for you, you're new in America and you're an alien, huh?"

Johanna controlled her reaction.

Remember here, "alien" simply means you're from a different country. Not a different planet. Unless she's dropping hints.

"Like Harry." Leslie continued. "Daniel Radcliffe's body-double. Seemed like there wasn't another guy in the place. You nailed it, Harry!"

Ponder Stibbons nodded, remembering his squirming embarrassment at being centre of attraction for a lot of women. This was not a place Ponder had ever been to before. He'd been the disregarded one on the sidelines nursing a lonely beer while Victor Tugelbend was the focus of the female gaze. He had gathered that this was his natural state in life. Now it seemed he was Victor Tugelbend. Girls in the Comic Book Store had excitedly cell-phoned or texted their friends to come down and see. I'm telling you, hon, it's Daniel Radcliffe!

Stuart had been ecstatic. One of his best nights ever. And the first time in living memory that women had outnumbered men in his store. Even Stuart himself had been set for an interesting date with a Jean Gray-Summers lookalike in her late thirties. The other Caltech guys had reminded him at intervals that they'd been responsible for this, and they were expecting big discounts.

"Yeah, sure, guys." Stuart had mumbled, distracted.

Ponder had been glad of the card competition. It allowed distraction and something to focus on. Afterwards, he had given the thousand dollar prize to Leonard, who he knew handled the finances and routine bills for his and Sheldon's apartment. Sheldon, apparently, was too engrossed in other things to be bothered, but willingly paid up whatever Leonard worked out what his share of the bills were.

"That should, er, defray living expenses for Johanna and I for a week or two." He explained. "If you work out with Penny what she thinks is right?"

"Sure thing, Ponder." Leonard had said, pleased. "But this should pay for you both for more than a coupla weeks!"

Ponder recalled the mystic rune Visa, the one Johanna had already exploited for several thousand dollars' worth of goods and services. HEX had arranged a similar creditcard for him, also with a theoretically unlimited balance.

"Least we can do." Ponder assured him. "I suspect money isn't going to be much of a problem for us, but that doesn't mean you should be out of pocket for hosting us."

"Really appreciate this, Ponder." Leonard had said, sincerely. Ponder grinned, but reflected he should really ask HEX about the economics of all this. He was honest and conscientious enough to wonder if at some level they were cheating or stealing from Roundworld, perhaps imbalancing its economy in some small but ultimately perceptible way.

And then there was Leslie Winkle's barely disguised personal interest in him. He gulped. Even if he were single, he'd have hesitated, partly out of inexperience and partly out of deep-down Ponder Stibbons reticence around women. Johanna would not be happy about it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

7) Amy-Farrah-Fowler. I understand from conversations with Wee Mad Arthur and Buggy Swires that the NacMacFeegle are a proud people. Misunderstandings are usually settled directly. I have a memory that Wee Mad Arthur once informed me that the word "Smurf" means something offensive in the primal tongue preserved by Keldas and Gonnagles. I am unsure of the meaning or derviation. But it provokes a reaction not unlike that caused by referring to a Dwarf as a "lawn ornament". Here, a distorted – an extremely distorted – memory of the Feegle generated Smurfs, a little blue people who in general are friendly and inoffensive, like the more pacifistic Gnomes of Skund. They are a clever children's entertainment. There is potential for trouble here.

8) (ALL) avoid Elves. This "Lord of the Rings" thing is distinctly distorted and unhelpful. Concern that {{she who even here makes me touch iron}} may exploit this erroneous perception of Elves as a people of wonder and majesty who are benignly disposed towards humanity. {{Touch iron}}

Johanna reflected, then used a desktop stapler to click several metal staples through every written occurrence of the word Elf or Elves. She reckoned the staples were steel and therefore had an iron content. You couldn't be too careful, and Ponder had advised her the elves were capable of travelling to Roundworld,

9) Amy Farrah-Fowler. Is not to ask Feegles or Gnomes, if you meet any, if they have any recent corpses she could anatomically dissect. Feegle have funerary customs like any sentient people and I'm willing to bet these do not include outsiders dissecting their brains. (Memo. If I could speak to a sympathetic Kelda? Keldas are by all accounts wise and thoughtful.)

10) Nor is Amy to insult them by calling them "superbly compact humanoids with super-efficient brains". This is polysyllabic, and is asking for trouble with Feegles, who will consider they are being insulted. And I am betting the word "humanoid" will be heard as if it were "Smurf".

11) Howard Wolowitz. Where do I begin with Howard.

12) Dwarfs are not "lawn ornaments".

13) The people of Ghat have a sophisticated religion with many Gods. Judging by Howard's dismissive remarks about Raj K's religion, he will need to be warned, seriously, that "dissing the mother-Goddess Kali" is not a good idea. Otherwise she is likely to personally take offence and pursue him down the street with a tulwar sword in each of four hands, and her razor sharp tongue poised to kiss. Accompanied, no doubt, by an army of attendant vetela-demons. As this would cause a public order issue in the City, I would expect reprimands from Mr Vimes and Lord Vetinari.

14) GODS ON THE DISCWORLD ARE REAL. Except for the Christian one, as only a few Roundworlders have so far visited and their own belief has been fairly casual. (MEMO: Allow no Televangelists whatsoever to cross over to a world where belief creates gods. The results would be catastrophic for our Disc.) Ensure our guests are fully aware of this and briefed on the consequences.

15) Howard. Is not to use phrases like "Yo, bitch!" to Angua von Uberwald. B-Word Privileges apply. Angua also takes exception to phrases like "So do you do it doggy-style?". Carrot is not best impressed either.

16) Nor is he to make suggestive remarks to Alice Band, Steffi Gibbett, Jocasta Wiggs, Dolores de Guitierrez, or any women I know who have healthy sexual lives in which men do not figure. Asking Alice to "bring another hot chick to a threeway" is just asking for it. The Watch would call this suicide.

17) Sheldon Cooper. If he is ever invited to audience with Lord Vetinari. A part of me is minded to arrange this just to see what happens next. But the Patrician would remember who was responsible. Delay this as far as I can, and hope His Lordship realises he is dealing with a mind in its own way as remarkable as Leonard of Quirm's. Sheldon must not be cutting, abrasive, dismissive, patronising… what am I saying. He is Sheldon.

18) Penny. She ensured I dressed correctly for this world. I must return the favour to her on ours. Explain our dress conventions and to hope she does not find them too restrictive. Dressed as she is, she would provoke civil unrest and fights on the street. Mr Vimes would not be pleased.

19) Me. Find out if that letter of commendation from the Los Angeles Police Department has arrived on Mr Vimes' desk. Hopefully Inspector Pessimal will find it first. Explain to Mr Vimes what it concerns and how it came to happen. Pessimal will, I hope, be sympathetic.

20) Bernadette. Get her dressed for Ankh-Morpork. Given her height, suggest a false beard to help her blend in? Explain about Dwarfs. Introduce her to Cheery. Bernadette is vulnerable to street attacks. If I dress her in chainmail and provide an axe she can visibly carry, her height and demeanour will scream "tall dwarf!" at the obvious suspects and act as deterrent.

21) Explain about the Thieves Guild arrangement. Noblesse oblige: buy them all insurance premiums for their stay here. Then all we need worry about is unlicenced thieves.

22) The Cheesecake thing….

Johanna broke off from writing as there was a knock on her door. A message was flashing on the screen: Students for tutorial. 11:00 PST.

Damn. She'd forgotten about that. HEX silently obliged with names, reports and details of the four students she was hosting, and a prompt as to what they were there to discuss. Johanna closed the legal pad and called for them to come in.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i) She had a l⅔ot in common wiTh muStrum Ri①dcully here when it came to manual dexterity on a keybo rd.

ii) Ponder Stibbons, meanwhile, had noted that in an obscure Vangeleshian dialect used only for spellcasting, "ASDFGHJKL", when you inserted the correct vowel sounds, summoned a powerful demon who would look at the text you had just meticulously typeset and which you could swear was correctly spelt, punctuated and indented, and at the speed even of Discworld light could insert a dozen different typos and little errors in between checking and prnting. The sound of "Oh Great Om on a turtle, not AGAIN!" followed by a swift clip round the ear to the printer's apprentice is a sweet sacrificial offering to the Printer's Demon.

iii) Johanna had some negotiating to do with HEX on this one. There were the Roundworld clothes and especially its underwear,(she was not going to budge on the issues of Roundworld's stylish and above all comfortable bras and pants) and the assorted weaponry she had bought for Guild evaluation. She was going to need a shipping container.

Chapter 21: The mind-brain dichotomy

Wheeler-Bell Twenty-One

More things to be avoided in Ankh-Morpork

Ponder Stibbons was also doing a tutorial with students. He wanted to keep it informal, and he had a shrewd idea about this tutorial group. In between a discussion of the practical ramifications of Boyle's Law and what it meant for the mechanical state of molecules in the gaseous phase, he and his students were engaged in a hand of Mystic Warlords of Ka'A. They'd all been present in the Comic Book Store the previous night and had seen their new tutor not only surrounded by admiring women, but also to walk away with the cash prize. Naturally they all wanted to know how he did it. He was therefore offering practical tuition in the game alongside a wholly incidental discussion of thermal coefficients and gas expansion rates under heat and pressure, thinking at least some of it was going to sink in. Ponder liked California and its relaxed attitude to just about everything.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just down the corridor, Johanna Smith-Rhodes was similarly mentoring her own students, three of whom had been in the Comic Book Store the previous night and who were awed at being in the same room as Poison Ivy. The fourth was Miss Palin, the Creationist. Johanna sighed. It was like being lectured by the Omnians.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Howard Wolowitz, meanwhile, was spending some down-time catching up with professional reading. The engineering protocols of nuclear power plants fascinated him. He had an engineer's eye and appreciation for systems that were the pinnacle of the art, the acme of human ingenuity, and the sheer amount of power they more-or-less safely controlled. He was also a practical engineer. He wanted to find out more about what happened when life's little accidents inevitably turned up. In this case, about how skilled engineering professionals around the world managed to retain their jobs and livelihoods after fouling up. You could never know too much about informal protocols for emergency back-ups to preserve pay check, livelihood and professional reputation, nor about the necessary professional skills of obfuscation, denial of blame, muddying the waters, blinding with bullshit and generally covering one's ass. Howard's professional life had, after all, involved a backed-up space bathroom and a fender-bender on the Mars Rover. It was all useful knowledge.

Currently, he was reading the authorised press release put out by the British Nuclear Fuels Agency following a regrettable leak at the Sellafield plant in Cumbria. He had already read the confidential engineers' report and appreciated a lot of people in England had been passing large uncomfortable bowel movements at a near miss. He appreciated the fact the entire power plant had been renamed three times so as to obscure previous little operating difficulties. Three separate unconnected accidents at facilities called Windscale A, Haverigg, and Sellafield were less damning than three consecutive accidents in the same facility. He read on, aware he was in the presence of masters, and appreciated that a good PR man was the engineer's friend when it came to smoothing over little difficulties that happened in the normal run of things. Howard resolved to take a PR writer out for a drink sometime and really make friends.

And this English guy was good in the way he wrote the releases and smoothed things over. He made a potential disaster read like a minor hiccup. Howard looked up the name of the public relations guy, which was buried unobtrusively away in the smallest and most detailed of the fine print.

Terence Pratchett. Hmm. This guy had a gift. He could write books. If he could smooth over glitches at nuclear power plants like this, he'd be great at imaginative science fiction. He did a quick google on the name. Nothing published. Ah well, maybe he'd not realised yet….(1)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Miss Palin. Your holy writings claim the Creator essembled this universe out of raw firmament in precisely six days. You believe this ebsolutely. Without belittling your sincerely held beliefs, I sense a little difficulty here."

Johanna took a deep breath and studied the student's face and demeanour. She noted the other three sophomores in her office were sitting as far away from Miss Palin as social courtesy allowed them to get away with. She gathered they were not Creationists, and found their colleague to be embarrassing.

"I teach evolution es en eccepted scientific fect, Miss Palin". Johanna said, trying to be both firm and gentle. She felt she was getting into Arguing With Omnians territory here, a long, frustrating, fruitless dialogue that wouldn't change anyone's philosophical or scientific position. And she'd also met the Creator of this Universe, a disconcerting fact she was determined not to disclose. It raised too many questions, for one thing. Dean Henry might fit the profile as an elderly white-skinned male with a long flowing white beard, but Ponder's sheepish and reluctant explanation, that the Dean had blithely inserted his hand into raw firmament and "wiggled it around a bit to see what happened", only coincidentally chimed with Genesis, Chapter One Verse One.

And Miss Palin's rounded honest face, her eyes looking slightly unfocused behind the big-lensed glasses, was fundamentally a friendly and pleasant one. She had a sort of naïve healthy prettiness of a sort that was hard to dislike, the kind Penny described as "all-American homely". Johanna had a stray thought about her marrying a steady guy in a good job whose mind was just as closed as hers, and raising children in a good but unremarkable life somewhere, socialising only with other people who believed as she did and thought as she did. These three years at university might be the only time she ever gets to see and interact with people from other beliefs and backgrounds. I can't throw her off the course. All I can hope for is that her mind opens, at least a little. America might thank me for it.

"I repeat, Miss Palin. I have no wish to belittle enyone's religious beliefs. None whetsoever." Because on my world, the Gods tend to come round to your house in a gang and express their views directly and forcefully. The God worshipped here is less direct in expressing criticism. Here, He apparently rewards disrespect from a bishop in one city by directing lightning at the cathedral of a blameless prelate a hundred miles away. Either coincidence or bad aim. And according to Miss Palin, disregarding his love for this place called Israel results in hurricanes and tornados in random parts of the USA. Why can he not speak directly to the President on the perceived importance of supporting a country five thousand miles away? (2)

"The weight of scientific evidence for evolution is overwhelming, miss Palin. It does not come from any one discipline. Biology, zoology, geology, Earth science, geophysics, physical science, estronomy, even archaeology, all combine to indicate the scientific theory is correct. Several days ago, a neuroscientist I know provided interesting evidence from her own discipline to support the evolutionary hypothesis."

Johanna raised a hand to stop the flow of objections.

"Yes. I know I em using words like "theory" end "hypothesis". I would like you, es a minimum, to go eway from here end read ebout how those words hev a very strong, specific, meaning in science. You will discover it is different to the meaning the word "theory" hes in general discourse. I believe you are confusing the two meanings."

"But a theory is an unsupported contention…"

"Not in science, Miss Palin. Look, listen to me. Your Holy Book was written several thousand years ago, yesno?"

"The Bible is your Holy Book too!"

Johanna sighed, remembering that in this world she'd had a Christian upbringing. And the Kerrigian Reformed Temple of Offler and Blind Io, the church she had been birthed into, could only help so far… her knowledge of the Bible was sketchy, and she resolved not to be drawn into any sort of detailed debate. But she knew some things about Roundworld religion, and she'd had similar debates with Omnians like Constable Visit of the Watch. That would help. She took a deep breath and went into Talking-To-Visit mode.

"Exectly right, Miss Palin. I belong to the Dutch Reformed Church of Suid Efrrrika". She felt oddly proud for remembering the name. And one or two things HEX had told her about the church that was this part of her cover identity. And things she'd gleaned from the expats she'd met in the Park on Sunday. It all helped.

"I know there are many ways of interpreting Holy Scripture. Or else there would not be thousands of different groups in this world thet call themselves Christian. But listen. My church believed for many years thet bleck people are inferior to whites. End thet God hed ordained it so. End this was preached, es fect, from the pulpit every Oc.. Sunday… morning. This was based on ebsolutely impeccable readings of Biblical scripture. From a theological point of view, no fault could be found with the doctrine. This enabled my people to blind themselves to the fect thet, morally end ethically, it stank. Do you see whet I mean here? You cen read your Holy Book, you cen build a doctrine from it, you can fervently believe this is God's will, end you cen still be wrong." (3)

Miss Palin blinked behind her large glasses, and seemed to consider this for a few seconds.

"But… you can't apply the same argument to Genesis. That states in black and white with no room for argument that almighty God created the world in six days. You cannot argue with that!"

Johanna sighed and resumed Talking-to-Visit. She also kept her eyes on the computer monitor where HEX was flashing up some very helpful prompts. Reassuring herself that none of her students could see the screen, she prepared another argument.

"Six days." she repeated. "Ja. But a day is measured by the relative movement of earth and sun, yesno? End if we take the Book literally, God did not create the sun until the third or fourth day. So for half of this time there was nothing to measure the length of a day es we know it. How do we know the time period, to us, was not much longer than twenty-four hours? End the same sacred text elso tells us thet ten thousand years cen be es a second in the eye of the God."

Miss Palin blinked again. Johanna smiled.

"Look. I hev no wish to etteck or dismiss your faith." she repeated. "But I do know thet you cennot use it es the basis for any work you do in a university cless based on science. Or you will flunk every course and leave with your potential unfulfilled. I wish you to separate your religion from science. To work within the framework of science. Perheps come to an understanding thet while God created the universe – and nothing rules thet out – you must learn to think in terms of millions end billions of years. Efter all, the same ancient civilization thet tells us God created everything in six days elso tells us, in the same Holy Book, thet the world is flet, end the sun orbits the world. This world hes outgrown thet belief, but Christianity is still with us. This is ell I esk, Miss Palin. Work with us in our time frame, or you will be so out of step with everyone else, thet your studies cennot continue."

Aware a lot of the tutorial had been monopolised with irrelevance, she steepled her fingers, wondering if Ponder was having an easier time of it with his students, and looked forward to meeting everyone over lunch.

"You are from Eleska, miss Palin? (4) I understand it's a beautiful state end largely unspoilt. I would like to visit someday. Tell me more ebout it. End the rest of you elso. I note you represent Maine, New Jersey end Georgia. Indulge me es a foreign visitor to this country – an alien, perheps - who hes much to learn."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And across Caltech, Amy Farrah-Fowler wrote a short excited email.

Johanna. I've booked some time on a CAT-scanner at three this afternoon. Are you free? I really want to look at your brain, bezzie!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna and Ponder made it to the cafeteria for lunch. She selected a basic salad with an appetising-looking seafood sauce. Ponder went for a meat stew with some sort of dumplings. They joined the rest of the gang and compared mornings.

"Do eny of you in Physics ever hev to deal with Creationists?" she asked, trying not to sound weary.

Amy patted her hand.

"You drew Miss Palin, huh, bezzie?" she asked, sympathetically. Johanna nodded.

"I got to take her on the basic sophomore tour of Primatology." Amy remarked. "Some other guys in the Department would have kicked her back out of the door. She asked if we'd found the missing link yet, and she sure wasn't happy when I told her we share ninety-seven per cent common DNA with chimpanzees."

"I met the Missing Link." Sheldon Cooper announced. "Momma took me to a tent rally to try to save my soul for Jesus. The Missing Link preaches Creationism on the East Texas circuit. Intelligent enough to preach gospel, but not quite intelligent enough to be properly human."

"Bet she didn't do that more'n once, huh?" Leonard Hofstadter remarked. "Hey, what do they put in this beef cobbler?"

"Amy's experimental failures, probably." Howard said.

Amy Farrah-Fowler, who was also eating a salad, frowned.

"I'm told bushmeat tastes better than that." she said. "Hey, I got students from places like Ghana and Nigeria! They tell me things."

"Have to stop them taking doggy-bags away after you dissect a test subject, huh?" Howard said.

"Racial sensitivity, Howard!" Leonard hissed, as an obviously African student looked their way and frowned. "You don't wanna have to take the course – again!"

Sheldon looked serene.

"Of course she kept trying." he said. "But perhaps not quite as often, after I started debating with the preachers."

"Heckling, you mean." said Leonard.

"Debating." Sheldon said, firmly. "Do you know, their take on their religion is so inconsistent. People were telling Momma that it was wrong a twelve-year old boy should be sitting in the House of the Lord being insolent, as they put it, and arguing with the good pastors who were preachin' God's word. They said momma should take me away and whup some respect into my ass. For some reason, they did not like it when I quoted Luke chapter two, verses forty-five to fifty-two(5), and I asked them if Mary and Joseph took Jesus away and whupped his ass for being twelve and debating religion in the temple with his elders. There is no mention anywhere in the four Gospels, concerning the Saviour of Mankind getting his ass whupped, for debating with his Elders."

Sheldon shook his head at the inconstancy of religious believers.

"My eidetic memory." He explained. "When momma told me to commit Scripture to memory, I couldn't see the point of it, but I did it to please her. And Mee-Maw."

"The devil can cite Scripture for his own purpose. An evil soul producing holy witness is like a villain with a smiling cheek." Raj quoted.

"That's what they said to me." Sheldon remarked, serenely. "And the good folk at Momma's church got really angry when I told them that's not even in the Bible at all. It's actually from Shakespeare. The Merchant of Venice, Act One, Scene Three. Momma got me out of there real quick after that."

Johanna grinned, amused. On her world Hwel the Dwarf had written something similar.

"But do you get them in your clesses?" she asked. "Creationists?"

"Now and again." Raj said, shrugging. "They don't last long. Either the science takes, or they drop out or move to Humanities courses."

"Taking a Humanities course is dropping out." Sheldon said, with his snorting nasal laugh.

"The weight of evidence kinda stacks up." Leonard remarked. "You gotta be really blinkered or stupid to ignore it. Hey, mebbe God did ignite the Big Bang. Who knows? But the way I see it, that's not for physics to decide."

"I might argue…" Sheldon began, but he was swiftly cut off.

"The doctrine of Hiranyagarbha dictates that the Cosmic Egg shattered instantaneously in a time when there was no time." Raj said. "Thus Hinduism and the Big Bang can be held to be compatible, if you see the Cosmic Egg as a poetic metaphor."

Everybody looked at him.

"But hey, you get the occasional loser who thinks it's all only six thousand years old." He admitted. "Even though the Universe as we know it came into being perhaps fourteen billion years ago, as evinced by the length of time it takes for the oldest light to reach us."

"You just tell them to get with the program." Leonard said. "Whatever they might choose to think privately."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna was intrigued by the bright, gleaming, clean, hospital. It shared some commonality with the Lady Sybil at home, but was incredibly advanced in comparison. She ached to ask Amy about the purpose and uses of some of the machinery and equipment, but reflected that a lot of this would be in use in South Africa too and she was expected, according to her cover story, to have some sort of passing familiarity with it.

Amy led her to a private side room. A large piece of equipment, of a sort an Igor would have given somebody else's left leg to investigate, was more-or-less the only furnishing. A side desk housed one of the ubiquitous personal computers and accessories.

Amy shook hands with a medical doctor, also from Caltech's Neuroscience faculty, and introduced her to a nurse who would be on call in case of any emergency.

"How does it work?" Johanna asked, politely. She only half-understood the explanation, crossing her fingers HEX would not feel a need to intervene. That would raise too many questions. She laid down on the comfortable gurney, making no objections as Amy adjusted the head-rest and restraining brace, emphasising she was to stay completely still. Finally she was rolled into a white tunnel barely larger than she was, remembering Amy's instruction to try to stay neutral and as tranquil as possible. This first run was a control, to investigate her mind, as far as possible, at rest.

After a while, the machine started to hum. Johanna found it pleasant and restful. Then she heard Amy's voice, close by.

"This time, please think of something that makes you happy and excited? In a pleasant way? Thank you!"

She thought of nice times as a child. Then Ponder intruded.

Eventually Amy said, amused, that she could see what you were thinking there, bezzie!

"I'll show you later. All I can say is – whoo-hoo!"

Johanna went red.

Amy said "I'm guessing embarrassment now… clear signs. Can we go for anger this time? Think to when you've been fighting mad."

Johanna thought of anger with pupils. Not the really dim ones, the ones who were too lazy to use their brains, the idlers. This moved on to moments of utter exasperation. Then some of the fights she'd been in as an Assassin. Anger faded into memories of some very cold, clear, decisions she'd had to make professionally. She heard Amy whistle appreciatively.

"Have you ever felt guilt, Johanna?" Amy said, after a while. Johanna tried to assemble a few memories. She heard Amy talking about what she presumed were parts of the human brain. …high response in the amygdylla… medulla oblongata displaying strong activity…

… consistent with the scans we did on combat veterans from Iraq and the Sandbox. she heard the male voice say. Has Doctor Smith-Rhodes served in her country's military?

…I understand so. Amy's voice said. This supports the hypothesis that there is no special difference between the neurological activity observed in male and female combat personnel. And this is the first time we've been able to run this scan on a non-American with combat experience. Fascinating.

And then it was done, Johanna swung herself off the trolley, and Amy showed her the recording of her brain in various states of activity.

"End you can read my mind?" she said, incredulous.

"Not quite." Amy said. "Depending on which areas of the brain show most neurological activity, and knowing the associations of those areas, we can get a broad overview of the emotions running through your mind at the time. The more scans we do, the more we can refine the technology. But it is impossible to read actual thoughts. Which given this set of responses, is maybe just as well! Were you thinking about Ponder at the time?"

Johanna went red.

"Whoo-hoo!" Amy said, quietly.

"Whoo-hoo. Indeed." Johanna said, quietly. Wondering what Lord Vetinari might do with this technology. Or the Watch. She resumed watching her own brain glowing in different colours. Resolving to mention this to Matron Igorina. Just as a casual by-the-way...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) This was indeed what Terry Pratchett did for a living before becoming a novelist. He claims he was glad to leave the nuclear industry and write more positive and less misleading fictions. In this phase of the Multiverse, its Terry Pratchett still works as a press spokesman for the nuclear power industry and has not, yet, started writing novels. Perhaps here he never will… (Our Terry Pratchett wrote about some of his experiences as a press officer for nuclear power in the collection "A Slip of the Keyboard".) Here in this Roundworld, an American illustrator and speculative fiction writer of graphic novels, called Lucy Tomacci, is running with the Discworld concept, figuring nothing that whacked-out can EVER be mistaken for a real place, and thus some outrageous and inconvenient truths can be presented through the medium of imaginative fiction, therefore saving the professional asses of five or six academics involved. Hey, it's an infinite Multiverse….

(2) Really true. In England, the Bishop of Durham questioned the literal truth of the Virgin Birth, with good, if academic, theological reason. The fact that the day after, the cathedral of York, a hundred miles away, was set on fire by lightning, was taken by excitable people as proof God was upset at the slur on His mother. Even though at the time York was the seat of a more traditionalist bishop who believed in the Virgin Birth as holy writ. Similarly, Zionist Christian lobbyists in the USA, of the sort who want the USA to fight an all-out war on those pesky Arabs and provide the State of Israel with unlimited uncritical support, point to devastating hurricanes which hit the East Coast and Louisiana as sure-fire proof God is pissed off with the Muslim socialist heretic Obama, for wanting a more constructive line with the USA's enfant terrible ally in the Middle East. And that's all I'm going to say on this one. If a Discworld version of Israel exists, it will only be touched upon in the broadest and least "political" way possible, focusing on the uncontentious aspects (are there any?) and played heavily for humour.

(3) Really true.  People have wrestled with the logical problem presented by Noah's flood and the fact only three human families were left alive to repopulate a whole planet. If Noah and his family were Middle Eastern, the problem goes, then where did all the bewildering variety of human races and ethnicities come from that we see today? The Bible tells us, in the aftermath of the Flood, that the three sons of Noah were tested and two were found wanting in various degrees. The eldest, who did what was right in the sight of God, then had a falling-out with his neglectful and sinful siblings. And the three sons went their separate ways, going respectively as far away from each other as they could get, becoming the first fathers of all the peoples of the world, who are then catalogued in page after page of the Bible. God also decrees that the descendants of the bad sons shall be servants and bondsmen – read "slaves" – to the faithful son's heirs, who have power and authority over them. Guess what: the faithful son is held to be father of the white races and the other two sons are fathers of the black and Asian peoples. The Dutch Reformed Church in South Africa used this to justify apartheid; the Mormons used it to deny black people and native Americans had souls to save, but their bodies could still perform useful service. Impeccable theological doctrine – but lousy morality. It took till the latter part of the twentieth century for both the DRC and the LDS to renounce racist doctrine.

(4) I know. This is dropping a very big unsubtle anvil. I didn't mean to. But if Ponder and Johanna achieve some small good on this version of Earth, getting to Sarah Palin before her views become so rigid they can't be changed….

(5) Sheldon is quoting the gospel of Luke, Chapter Two:

[45] When they did not find him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for him. [46] After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. [47] Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers. [48] When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, "Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you." [49] "Why were you searching for me?" he asked. "Didn't you know I had to be in my Father's house?" [50] But they did not understand what he was saying to them.

[51] Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart. [52] And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men.

Chapter 22: The Canine Conditioning Experiment

Wheeler-Bell Twenty-Two

First visit to Ankh-Morpork

In which a small party of visitors makes contact with an alien civilization.

Close Encounters of the Weird Kind ensue.

An extr-long one involving the first visit by a girl from Pasadena to the Discworld - enjoy!

Lucy was showing off her initial drawings for the graphic novel, to which she'd given the provisional title of The Big Bang Consequence.

They were good, Johanna and Ponder agreed. The central characters, who bore suspicious resemblances to the nine people currently gathered in apartment 4a, were beautifully drawn, with their aptitudes and personalities jotted down underneath. Lucy had drawn full-colour illustrations including a marvellously done Great A'Tuin, although she'd reproduced the familiar landmasses of Roundworld on its Disc.

"I know. Something had to go there. To make the picture complete. But I don't know what your world looks like." she had apologised.

"There could be advantages in the context of the story. You know, if the Disc was presented as a mirror of Roundworld." Ponder Stibbons said, thoughtfully. "It makes it more plausible for me to pass as British and Johanna to be a South African."

"You need a little more beck-story." Johanna remarked. She was reading the sketched-out storyboards. Just over twelve days in California as a guest at 2311 North Los Robles, Pasadena, had given her time to read and learn more about the comic-book medium. She was beginning to appreciate that, especially with graphic novels, this was so much more than a five-minute diversion for children with lots of pretty pictures and little text. There was ample material in Leonard's room, where she generally slept with Ponder, and she was beginning to get hooked on the Sandman series and The Books of Magic. The name "Neil Gaiman" was one she noted for further research. And the character of Zatanna, Mistress of Magic, was one she found attractive and compelling. She wondered about cosplaying her, although it would need a good black wig. Ag. I'm going native. This form of delightful trivial insanity is addictive.

"For instance, the Big Beng. How it might have created two Universes simultaneously. Leading to two plenets thet evolved to be closely connected twins ecross time end space."

She read Ponder's expression, which clearly said Don't mention the Dean at any point!

"End one day, those two worlds met, end discovered how similar they are. The sterting point for your tale." she completed her thought, without going into details about cause and effect. Ponder relaxed. The real tale about how the Big Bang came about was not one for Roundworld, even here.

Penny took another bite of her spring roll. She made as if to touch the artwork, then thought better of it with fingers slightly slicked with Chinese food oil.

"You could make the boobs smaller, hon." she remarked. "And my legs longer. But I love the way you've drawn me. Cool!"

"Hey, big boobs sell comics!" Howard objected. He'd been a little put out at his representation as a gonk with a large nose protruding through a Beatles haircut. Bernadette had loved it. It had made Ponder think of his old colleague Adrian Turnipseed, Big Mad Drongo. Penny's eyes narrowed but she refrained from commenting.

"Penny is perfect as she is." Amy Farrah-Fowler said, with a half-frown that turned into a delighted admiring smile. "Lucy, when you're done with the artwork, may I buy this one and frame it for my bedroom wall?"

Penny winced. Amy's thinly disguised infatuation with her could be a trial….

"Slightly smaller boobs and longer legs." Lucy repeated, making a note. "I'll try that!"

"Then can I buy this first version?" Amy repeated, insistently. "A lovely picture of one of my best bezzies!"

"And not your own, sweetie?" Penny asked, with innocence. Amy had come out looking like a shapeless frump, although Lucy had prudently added a few sketches of what she imagined the character might look like if glammed up with better dress sense. Amy had admired those speculative treatments. Penny had said to take notes on the way Lucy had drawn her Better Amy.

"I will leave those with Lucy." Amy said, serious again. "A shame Raj isn't with you?"

"He said he had to take Cinnamon for a walk." Lucy said. For some reason everyone spluttered and Penny looked disapproving. "He'll drop by later, he said."

"Thet is good." Johanna said, wondering why people were reacting the way they were. "Et home I have two dogs who need a lot of exercise. Walks are good for dogs."

"Yeah. Walks." Penny said. "But in a baby-stroller?"

"Please tell me ebout Raj's dog. What kind is she?"

A picture emerged of a small, fussy, over-pampered Yorkshire terrier bitch. Johanna frowned.

"Remind me to have a little word with him." she said. "Treating your pet es if it were a human baby is not good."

"You're telling me, sweetie!" Penny said.

Small fussy breeds could be the worst of all, she knew: if not managed firmly, snappy, irritable and aggressive. And treating a terrier like a lap-dog… she winced. She hoped she could assess any damage that had been done and provide remedial training. If she could get past the owner's muddle-headedness. She also realised she missed her own dogs. Badly. Even though only about half an hour would have passed, in Disc time, since they'd seen her last, shortly before she got the message to go over to the university to discuss a contract for escort services. Her dogs wouldn't be missing her overmuch yet and anyway other people shared the dog-walking and feeding and grooming. A whole House full of girl pupils, for instance, who clamoured for doggy contact. And her assistant teacher Ruth N'Kweze. But owing to the elastic nature of time, nearly a fortnight had passed on Roundworld. A fortnight since she'd last seen her dogs.

She sighed and brought her attention back to the matter at hand.

"HEX? Could you provide Lucy with stenderd meps end en etlas of the Disc?"

++I hear you, Johanna. ++Yes, I can download temporary files to the computers here from which Lucy can work.++But an alternative solution presents itself.++Lucy is a talented artist.++It might engage her abilities far more effectively if she were taken to look at the real thing.++ I propose a visit to our Discworld in the Travelling Engine.++This would enable me to satisfy myself that all systems are completely functional again following the misadventure involving Doctor Cooper.++Escorted by you, if she would care to bring a camera or other recording device, I can take her into orbit above our world for her to take photographs she can work from at leisure, or else to make sketches in situ.++ Would this interest you, Lucy?++I will return you directly here, and you will be in no danger.++

Lucy took several deep breaths. A trip. In space. To the aliens' homeworld? Wow… but something was niggling at her.

"How long will it take, Mr HEX?" she asked. "I mean, you hear of trips into space where you come back and find everyone at home's fifty years older and stuff…"

++Travel will be practically instantaneous, Lucy ++ HEX replied. ++We will spend at most two to three hours there depending on how long it takes you to make the images you desire. ++You will return here later this evening.++

Lucy bit her lip and considered. She asked about any need to wear a space-suit, will G-forces be painful, and how uncomfortable will it be. HEX assured her on all grounds.

Ignoring Sheldon Cooper loudly complaining that this wasn't fair, and Leonard saying "Can it, Sheldon, you had your shot, and you damn nearly wrecked everything!" she considered, bit her lip, then smiled and asked for a camera. She packed a sketch book and pens in her backpack.

"I'm ready." she said, wondering at how calm she was being. Johanna smiled, and moved to the Travelling Engine.

++This time everything will go smoothly.++ HEX said. ++Please do not touch the console.++ Johanna, relative time on the Disc will be approximately three minutes after your moment of departure.++This is necessary to ensure continuity.++

The Travelling Engine hummed and Dopplered. Johanna took Lucy's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. And then it was gone.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, it kinda worked out last time." Penny said, thoughtfully, After her own experience, she was very glad it wasn't her this time round. "Guess HEX won't be around till they come back, huh?"

++Actually, Penny, I am also here.++ the disembodied voice of HEX said. She jumped.

++I told you this time it would go according to plan.++Sheldon Cooper is not travelling, for one thing.++

Leonard grinned. After the last trip and his fears that Penny had been lost forever, he now felt completely reassured.

++Lucy and Johanna are now at a point in space possibly twenty thousand miles above the Disc system. ++This is far enough away to view the whole Disc from directly above and to enable Lucy to make images and observations. ++They are at optimal temperature and atmospheric conditions inside the Travelling Engine, and are perfectly safe. ++

A knock at the door announced Raj. A dog barked, yappy and shrill. Sheldon Cooper grimaced.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucy blinked. She was aware of Johanna reassuringly squeezing her hand. But her head was swimming slightly and her eyes were full of afterimages of the bright flashing lights.

++You will take a few moments to adjust. ++ HEX said. ++Do not attempt to move for a minute or so. ++ Take a deep breath. ++Relax.++ Start to move slowly.++ Very slowly.++ (1)

Johanna knew the experience: getting over the dislocation factor involved in instantaneous travel from one point to another, an unguessable distance away. She took a moment to allow her head to clear.

++I have taken you with me to another world++ HEX continued, in a level reassuring voice. ++Again, I advise you to relax for a moment. ++Take deep breaths.++ Here is some light music.++ For the moment, move slowly, as if swimming.++

There were panpipes in it. Johanna grinned.

"Ponder calls it the thlebber." she explained to Lucy. "We have trevelled a long way in the space of a single heartbeat. It is netural for the body to feel a little disorientated. People react differently to it."

"Is that like hyperspace?" Lucy said. "I've read about that."

++Hold that thought, Lucy. ++ I am restoring full exterior vision in five seconds. ++Five. ++Four. ++ Three.++ Two. ++ One++

Some sort of opaque screening faded away. Lucy was suddenly looking out on a starfield. And down there…

It was fitting the music playing suddenly became monastic chant, some sort of Gregorian, she supposed. Chanting monks. Panpipes. And….

The world-turtle Great A'Tuin swam into view. It was magnificent. It was unspeakably lovely. There's a point where size and importance transcends any absurdity. Johanna realised she was looking at it. Her own world. From above. The two squeezed hands, lost in the moment.

"Better get your iconogreph." Johanna said, encouragingly. There was a moment of incomprehension.

"Your cemera." she clarified. Lucy wriggled to get to her backpack. Johanna settled back to watch the show. A thought was itching in her mind. Ankh-Morpork was down there somewhere… she looked down, seeking the Circle Sea.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sheldon Cooper looked indignant. In fact, he was annoyed. His long body twitched with suppressed rage.

"Very well, then." he said, at length. "I will of course ask you to sign the codicil to the Housemates' Agreement concerning expectations binding domestic companion animals, by which you, as the responsible owner, will be bound during her stay here."

"If she messes the carpet, you clean it up." Leonard translated.

"And pay the deep-cleaning bill." Sheldon said, firmly.

"She's just a dog, Sheldon!" Penny said, heatedly. "And I'm sure she's already done what she had to, Raj, right, sweetie?"

"I took her to the doggie toilet in the park." Raj said, in defence of his pet. "She knows to go there. She is regular. Most of the time."

"Yeah, right. But." Penny said. "Puttin' her in diapers is takin' it too freakin' far, Raj!"

Penny liked dogs. They'd been part of farm life in Nebraska. She'd grown up with hounds. She just had very mixed feelings about Cinnamon. She was damn sure taking a dog for a walk did not involve tucking it up warmly in a baby-stroller.

"She's right, Raj." Bernadette said. "When we looked after her, she was perfectly happy walking on her own four legs!" Howard nodded.

"Yes. And you lost her."

"Hey, she was so glad to be out of that verkakte stroller!" Bernadette said, emphatically. "Couldn't believe her luck!"

"Is it me, or is she suddenly sounding like my mom?" Howard asked, in a low voice. Leonard made a point of shaking his head. So did Amy. And Penny.

Cinnamon, taken out of the stroller, blinked uncertainly for a moment, looked around a room full of people, many of whom were familiar to her, and then sought a warm comfortable place to curl up. She found one.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

HEX obligingly moved the travelling engine around the turtle-system so that Lucy could find the best places to take photos from. She had soon filled up all the available space on her memory card. Now, she was sketching aspects and detail in pencils and pens. Johanna appreciated the skill and talent, but was otherwise left to her own devices. The wild thought she had had was still pressing on her mind, getting louder and more insistent. Finally she spoke up.

"HEX?"

++Yes, Johanna?++

"I was thinking. I know in real time here on the Disc, not much more than en hour hes elapsed since I left for the Roundworld. But subjectively for me, it hes been nearly two weeks. I em missing my dogs, HEX. Is there eny way we cen return to the surface of the Disc, es we ere here? Perheps a brief visit, discreetly?"

HEX considered this.

++I can materialise the Travelling Engine inside your rooms at the Guild. ++ he said, eventually. ++That would be discreet. ++Consulting floor plans of the Guild of Assassins main buildings and Guild directory.++ Stand by.++

Johanna did not ask how HEX had located plans of the internal layout of the Guild, something the Assassins preferred to keep a guarded secret. HEX was HEX. He probably had access to a lot of sensitive information the various Guilds would be edgy about his, and by implication the Wizards, knowing. She wondered if this could be subverted for mission-planning.

"Lucy?" Johanna said. "To edvise you. I need to make a brief visit home to my… epartment. To check on my dogs. Let me tell you about my dogs, so thet you are not elermed. They are very sociable, friendly, end well-trained…."

++I have located your apartment and fine-tuned the co-ordinates.++ HEX said. ++When Lucy is finished in her work, I will take you directly there. ++The shield around the Engine will become opaque and there will be a sensation of movement. ++Stand by. ++

"Wow!" Lucy said. "And I get to see your planet too? Far out!"

"You know, for somebody with social enxiety, you are taking this in your stride." Johanna said, approvingly.

"It's just too weird." Lucy said, honestly. "So weird you can't be scared. Too big to be panicked by."

She packed her sketch-books away.

"I guess I'm done." she said. "Hey, first Earthwoman on a different planet. Cool. Take me to your leader!"

"You will not be encountering Lord Vetinari on this visit." Johanna said, fervently hoping not. She put a horrible thought out of her mind that Vetinari might be sitting in the comfortable chair in her living room, placidly stroking her dogs, one step ahead and waiting for her…

"Think of it es a social call. I believe I should offer you a cup of tea? Sheldon appeared to think tea is important when trevelling between plenets." He may have been conflating two different science-fiction fables. Earl Grey tea one minute, something called a Nutrimatic Drinks Dispenser the next. Or a replicator machine that offers Earl Grey. Sheldon Cooper, when excited, can be difficult to follow….

And then the bubble went opaque and there was a sensation of movement.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Rajesh," Sheldon Cooper said, with icy affronted calm. "Your dog is in my spot."

"So she is." Raj said, indulgently. "Ahh, isn't she ickle and lovely and being so very naughty to Uncle Sheldon?"

Everyone else was alternately holding back laughter or otherwise squicked out by the excessive cute note in Raj's voice.

"I require you to move your dog, Rajesh!"

Cinnamon opened one eye. It fixed on Sheldon, narrowed, and she bared several fangs and emitted a low unmistakable "Grrrr!" The harmonics said "So I'm in your spot. Tough. It's my spot now. Move me!"

Sheldon took several steps backwards. Penny patted his shoulder.

"Better find a different spot, moonpie." she advised him.

Leonard extended a tentative arm. Cinnamon snapped at his fingers. Leonard pulled his arm back very quickly.

"Looks like she's settled there, buddy." he said.

"This is not right. Not right at all." Sheldon said, querulously.

"Leave her be, Sheldon. She had a rough time coming over. Lots of other dogs came sniffing round the stroller. I was practically beating them off my poor little Cinnamon!"

Raj reached down to chuck her under the chin. She tolerated this.

"All those big bad boy dogs after you. It's sex, sex, sex with males, isn't it? Always sex!"

Penny blinked. Farm life in Nebraska had taught her something of the ways of dogs. She was, in every practicable sense, more clued up than Raj on canine ways. And male ways.

"A lot of dogs were following you here, Raj?" she asked. "A lot of male dogs? Unmistakably male dogs? Kindda very obviously male dogs?"

Raj nodded.

"And I'll bettcha other dog walkers were lookin' at you as if you were some sortta moron and making comments? Whoo. Boy!"

"Rajesh." Amy Farrah-Fowler said, at length. "Maybe you should not have brought Cinnamon out in the street tonight."

Amy worked with lab animals. Including dogs. In certain respects she was not unworldly in the slightest.

"She is about a year old now." Raj said. "This is only the second time this has happened. She suddenly becomes of great interest to other dogs and I have to fight other dogs off her. It makes it very difficult to take her for walkies! Even coming up the stairs, Mrs Gunderson from downstairs was taking her Mexican Hairless for a walk, and suddenly he leapt for my Cinnamon. "

Amy and Penny looked at each other.

"Raj." Amy said. "I believe Penny and I need to have a word. Between us we can explain in simple terms, and possibly with the assistance of diagrams drawn on the whiteboard, what is happening here."

"How simple do you want?" Penny added. "Raj, sweetie, let me give you The Talk here. Let me be your big sister who explains it all to you."

"Well, at least no large insistent male canine is going to get into the apartment. Nothing untoward is going to happen here!" Amy remarked.

"And most importantly of all, that dog is still in my spot!" bleated Sheldon.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Travelling Engine dopplered to a stop. Johanna smiled happily as the familiar contours and shapes of her rooms at the Guild took form around her. Everything as she had left it. The clacks from the University that Mr Maroon had brought to her door was on the table. She had whistled, checked her weapons and appearance, and gone almost the second she'd read it. Winter early-evening light shone through the window, grey and muted.

And…

The two big dogs barked joyously as they ran to meet her. Lucy jumped as Kaffee sniffed her over curiously on his way to Johanna.

She did warn me they were big. Lucy reminded herself. "But I wasn't expecting pretty near Shetland Pony big!"

Mobbed by the dogs she hadn't seen in twelve or thirteen days, and which hadn't seen her for half an hour, Johanna was happy. But she registered something else about Lucy, who was beginning to shiver.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I should hev warned you it is winter here. Let me… Bly, Kaffee! Sjit, Crème! … let me find you something…"

I have brought the girl from California to Ankh-Morpork in winter. She is dressed for a clement evening in Pasadena. This is not good. Ag, I myself am dressed for California….

Johanna, her dogs flowing around her, quickly located a large thick black cloak. Lucy wrapped it around her with thanks, feeling warmth in this strange place. The room looked like an eighteenth century inn or something, basically furnished, with…. Oil lights?

"We need light, I think." Johanna said, finding it suddenly hard to rehabituate to a place with no convenient electrical switches on the wall. She looked for Lucifers and began lighting oil lamps. The not unpleasant scent of burning oil filled the air.

"In some respects we are not es edvenced es your Celifornia." Johanna apologised. "Some wizards can commend megicel light. Ponder is good et thet. Now the cup of tea I promised you?"

"Magic?" Lucy asked. For want of something else to do, she brought her sketch pad out and started drawing. A room from two centuries ago… but lived in. Not a movie set or a reconstruction. Like old England. Seriously cool. But no TV. No electricity.

"Our world runs on megic. Although I em beginning to suspect it overleps with whet your world calls science. Ponder is excited by the the thought thet et some basic deep-down level, our megic end your science are driven by the same fundamental power. He speaks of a unified field theory which will explain this. Myself, I do not pretend to fully understend."

Johanna moved into what was presumably a small kitchen. Rattling of cups and cutlery were heard. After a while a kettle started to boil. Lucy continued sketching. Despite what looked like a stuffed cuddly panda on a shelf, she noticed a certain weapons-and-warfare motif in the room's decoration. The contrast interested her and she emphasised this in her sketches, building in the little feminine comforts of a single-girl flat, contrasted with lots of swords and sharp-edged things everywhere.

Johanna returned with two mugs of hot sweet tea. She glanced down at the developing sketches, said nothing, but smiled as if amused.

"Welcome to the Discworld!" she said, as the dogs settled in on and around her.

They drank their tea. Lucy was struck by the silence of the room, compared to Pasadena and Los Angeles. She realised the distant throbbing hum of traffic noise, the undercurrent she had been born and brought up with, was missing. You just don't realise till it's not there.

The only background noise was the occasional distant shout or indistinct voice filtering in through the closed window. Footsteps could be heard in the distance, heavy shoes on bare wooden floors. Lucy recalled that Johanna had said she worked and lived in at a school. Some of the usual institutional smells were certainly there, soap and disinfectant and cleaning solutions.

And there was something else on the air, a tang, a smell… Lucy tried not to notice it. But there was just enough of it on the air to pervade. And once you noticed it, it got stronger.

"This city got me thet way too, when I first errived here." Johanna said, with a half-smile. "You get used to the smell. Efter perhaps ten years. Is the tea to your liking?"

"It's gonna be stronger outside, right?" Lucy asked. Johanna nodded. Very emphatically.

"Ah-huh. I'm wondering how you draw a smell?"

"Just stain the whole page in green, brown end bleck." Johanna suggested. "Emphesis on the word stain. With the cherecters emerging from in end out of the miesma."

There was a knock on the door. The dogs barked, in a "friend nearby" way. Johanna frowned and stood up. She sensed a whooshing in the air.

"Johanna?" a voice said. Kaffee and Crème barked a welcome to a friend. She opened the door. Her dogs engulfed the newcomer, who didn't seem put out or alarmed in the slightest.

"Hi, Johanna. I wondered if…. Bly, Crème! Sjit, Kaffee!... if you'd got back from the University. Just some routine business."

"Hi, Ruth. Come on in. I've just made tea."

Ruth N'Kweze, her assistant houseteacher, walked in, trailing the dogs. She counted two tea mugs, saw the Travelling Engine which occupied a greater part of the floor space, and did the first of several double-takes. She looked from Johanna to the Travelling Engine then back to Johanna, and then to a hastily dropped sketch-pad and a space that might once have been occupied by a third person.

"Errr… your clothes?" Ruth said, uncertainly. Johanna was dressed in California Casual, shorts cut low on the thigh, bare legs, lightweight shoes and a t-shirt top. Ruth was damn sure her mentor had not been dressed that way an hour ago. And her skin had been several tones paler an hour ago.

"The, er, sun tan?" she added. Ruth patted Johanna's arm. It felt summer-warm. Not the way she'd have expected from Ankh-Morpork in winter.

"In fact, would you like to tell me what you've been up to in the last hour or so?" Ruth added, pointedly. "Let's say I'm a bit inquisitive. Is it to do with the University?"

"Better sit down, I think. I'll do you a cup of tea." Johanna said. "Lucy, you cen come out now. Ruth's a friend."

Johanna retreated to the kitchen. Lucy emerged, sheepishly, from behind the sofa. She saw a tall black-skinned woman in her early twenties, dressed all in black, a sort of very well-tailored, stylish black that suggested good taste and high income. The black woman smiled reassuringly at her, revealing teeth that California would have rated in the high ninth decile for dental excellence.

"That was really good concealment." Ruth said. "Impressive. If it wasn't for the second teacup and the sketch pad – Johanna can't draw to save her life – I might have thought she was the only person in here. I'm Ruth N'Kweze, by the way. I work closely with Johanna."

She offered a hand. Lucy took it. Lucy noted the very obvious sword hanging at her belt. She reminded herself Johanna wore something similar and felt no need to take it out and use it.

"Briquet pattern cavalry sabre. Straight blade, double-edged, good for slicing, nice sharp point for stabbing with. Quirmian manufacture." Ruth said, mistaking her interest. She patted the hilt.

"I'm sure it's a good sword." Lucy said, politely.

"Oh, it is! We're trained to recognise and use the best. Johanna's got a few on the wall here, look!"

Johanna returned with another mug of tea. Ruth took it with thanks, and the three sat down, the two huge dogs settling themselves at the feet of their acknowledged mistresses.

"Are you Thieves' Guild?" Ruth asked Lucy.

"Huh?" Lucy said, taken aback. She recalled Johanna had said something…

"There's more to it than thet…" Johanna said, hurriedly.

"No insult intended. It's the way you're dressed." Ruth added. Lucy was comfortably dressed in lightweight boots, roomy cargo trousers with lots of pockets, some buttoned and some zipped, and a baggy over-shirt.

"All the pockets. Handy to store things. No tool-belt, but that back-pack could carry working tools as well as somewhere to stash the swag. You're slightly built. The Thieves value that. And your concealment ability is incredible. I'm betting you could be out of that window and climbing down to ground level in three seconds if you wanted to!"

Johanna nodded. It hadn't consciously occurred to her, but Lucy was ideally dressed to pass on the Disc as she was, without needing much of a makeover. Ag, I'd better introduce her to Steffi Gibbet. Just in case of complications. Emphasise that Lucy isn't an unlicenced Thief or an impersonator. But Ruth's spotted it. She does have very, very, good trade skills the Thieves' Guild would take an interest in.

"Climbing out of the window end edificeering down the wall would not be a good idea here." Johanna said. "It would be spotted. Somebody obviously not a member of this Guild would be invited to explain their presence on the wall."

"Or indeed in the building?" Ruth asked, steering the conversation back. Johanna sighed.

"Ruth, you and I are old friends. I cen telk to you in confidence. I velue thet. About one hour ago, I eccepted a contrect from the University for escort services. Megic is indeed involved. Let me now tell you how I come to be wearing these clothes end how I got a suntan…"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ruth blinked.

"So via this Travelling Engine, you have been in this California place, on the fabled Roundworld, for a little less than two weeks. Enough time to go native and get a tan in a very pleasant, warm, sunny place."

"Exectly."

"You lucky cow!"

Johanna grinned. "An essignment in winter. To a warm country. A working holiday. Light bodyguarding end escort duties. A chence to make new friends. Whom I value."

"This Sheldon Cooper sounds like hard work, though". Ruth mused.

"The man is a genius." Johanna said, shrugging. "Genius makes its own rules. End codifies them es the Housemates' Egreement."

++Which Ponder Stibbons is to donate his copy of, to the Contracts Library at the Guild of Lawyers++ HEX said, breaking into the conversation. Ruth jumped.

"You must be Mr HEX" she said.

++Hello, Ruth.++ I am pleased to meet you.++

Ruth took a deep breath. She made a decision.

"Mr HEX. Am I given to understand that regardless of how much time elapses on the Roundworld, you can bring Johanna and Ponder back here within seconds of their departure time? So she can fit in a long working holiday, a paid  holiday, in a warm, sunny place for as long as she likes – and still be back here to resume her normal duties at the Guild School, as if nothing's happened?"

++That is essentially correct, yes.++ HEX admitted. ++It is an arrangement that benefits all parties involved.++ Although when he gets to hear about it, Arch-Chancellor Ridcully will insist the Guild of Assassins charges at an hourly rate for their services.++

"What, for two weeks in the Roundworld?" Ruth objected. Although a little suspicion was dawning on both her and Johanna…

++No.++ He will take the point of view that Discworld time subjectively applies, and will be happy to pay for perhaps forty minutes of Assassin time.++

Johanna winced. Then remembered the magic rune VISA that had commanded the equivalent of thousands of dollars into existence. She decided not to contest this too strenuously.

++I did say the arrangement is beneficial to all parties concerned. ++ HEX reminded them.

"Oh, good." Ruth said. "Mr HEX, I'm not paid a fantastic amount as a Teaching Assistant. And the nature of the job means that I'm owed a lot of time off in lieu." she said. "I need a holiday. In a nice warm place. Lots of sunshine."

She looked meaningfully at the Travelling Engine.

"I need a drink." Johanna said.

Ruth looked at her, sternly.

"If we're going down the pub, you'd better get dressed for it." she said. "I'm not going anywhere near you out there when you're dressed like that. It's positively indecent."

"Point taken." Johanna said, standing up and moving towards her bedroom. At least she'd be able to secure the comfortable Roundworld clothing away in her wardrobe. And this would be good practice for bringing the other Caltech people over. Call it a trial run. "Lucy, do you wish to see something of our City before we return? I will point out to you Ruth end I are both trained to bodyguard. You will be in little danger, elthough I warn you it is a dangerous place."

"More dangerous than parts of Los Angeles by night?" Lucy asked, practically. "I'm in!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raj Koothrappali looked both outraged and woebegone. Leonard patted him on the back in a consoling way.

"It's the truth, buddy." he said, insistently.

"But my Cinnamon is only a little girl! She's still practically a puppy! That… that…. That's pedophilia!"

Penny wished Johanna were here. A professional with animals could add weight to the argument. These guys respected specific academic disciplines, didn't they? A bona-fide zoologist would have her own strong point of view to make. As opposed to somebody who'd merely grown up on a farm around animals of all sorts, including dogs. Penny suspected her opinion was being disregarded as merely untrained anecdotal evidence.

"Raj, she stopped being a puppy six months ago." Amy insisted. "She has now passed through the juvenile stage and has progressed into full physical maturity. And a bitch in full physical maturity will regularly and inevitably go into heat."

"That means she wants to meet boy dogs. Loasdsa boy dogs. The more boy dogs the better. And make puppies, Raj. Sheesh, sweetie, why is this so hard for you to freakin' well understand?" Penny added.

"Doctor Koothrappali, a bitch-dog in heat, who incidentally is still in my spot, is positively Nebraskan in her attitude to coitus!" Sheldon Cooper added, insistently. Penny glared at him. "Listen to Doctor Farrah-Fowler, who is one of the nearest things to a specialist in this room!"

Amy, unfazed, continued. "It's a simple operation, Rajesh. I could perform it here on this kitchen counter."

Sheldon jerked, alarmed.

"After all, Sheldon keeps all the kitchen work surfaces to operating-table standards of sterility. Veterinarian operations may be performed in lesser conditions of asepsis, as animal systems are so much hardier than those of humans. And I routinely sterilise those laboratory animals who are not fated to be used for breeding purposes."

"Cinnamon is a good girl! She wouldn't! Not with any old dog!"

"Yes she would, Raj, she freakin' well would!" Penny said, emphatically. "She's a freakin' dog, Raj! Dogs aren't choosy!"

"Should have called her Penny, and not Cinnamon..." Howard mused.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ruth had pointed out that they couldn't leave via the front door of the Guild, as questions would be raised as to how somebody, Lucy, was signing out, when she hadn't been seen to sign the visitors' book on the way in. It would, Ruth argued, be unfair on the porters, those Guild employees responsible for door security, and might get them into undeserved trouble.

Johanna, who had changed into formal Assassin black, conceded the point. She was happy she now had one set of Roundworld underwear available to her on her native world. A good Prostitute could copy the pattern and make more. (2). She wondered about copyrights and patents. Roundworld underwear styles were virtually unknown here. Ah well, something else to think about… she wriggled in familiar underclothes that were suddenly ill-fitting and a little bit scratchy, and consulted HEX.

++I suggest the Bucket, on Gleam Street++ HEX said. ++Assassins are not unknown there and are tolerated by the clientele. ++Especially two Assassins who are also Special Constables of the City Watch, and who are showing a friend from elsewhere around Ankh-Morpork.++I can also use the Travelling Engine to transport you.++Gleam Street is characterised by industrial premises of various kinds which have grown up in a haphazard way over the years.++I can drop the three of you in a secluded place away from watching eyes and your arrival will be discreet.++I can arrange to collect you at the same location and bring you back here.++

The three crowded onto the Engine, Lucy riding pillion sitting aside a cross-beam behind the two crew seats. Johanna reassured the dogs she'd be home soon, and the world shifted…

The three of them found themselves in a dark enclosed space with no apparent doors and windows, but which was open to the sky. It was typical of the sort of forgotten space that gets lost when neighbouring businesses and factories expand without too much planning or forethought. Ruth pulled herself up cautiously and took a look over the top of a wall. She dropped back down again.

"We're overlooking a loading bay for what looks like the Ankh-Morpork Times." she reported. "They're obviously not expecting a newsprint delivery going in and they're not loading the delivery carts for an edition going out. It's quiet. Nobody around. We can hop over the wall and just stroll out."

"Good enough." Johanna said, and scrambled up the wall, knowing HEX would look after the Travelling Engine. She was pleased Lucy got the hang of it and needed no assistance in climbing an eight-foot irregularly built brick wall, which wasn't even an elementary edificeering challenge to a student Assassin or Thief. The three dropped into the yard of the Times and unconcernedly strolled out through the gate. Anyone there to observe three women in black cloaks would have read them as Assassins on a mission or a training exercise – and therefore not to be challenged by the prudent. They turned into Gleam Street and entered the Bucket, a quiet sombre pub used by City Watchmen and newspaper employees.

Lucy was awed by the old-time feel of the place, like what she'd read of old New York, or Victorian England. The clothing was odd and archaic, the people looked as if they were from a different century, and the lack of street furniture, TV aerials, phone cables and electricity all screamed at her she was walking in another world. This wasn't how she'd expected a whole new planet to look, like a throwback to earlier times on her own world. But Johanna and Ruth were at home here, and confident on these streets. She'd guessed nobody cared to hassle Assassins. Who she knew or sensed did many other things apart from occasionally kill inconvenient people. Keeping people alive and undamaged was an Assassin skill too. And fighting, if the situation called for it. Lucy was reassured.

"You may elso meet people who are not human." Johanna had said to her. "But they are people too. Try to conceal eny surprise or shock." Lucy wondered what forms the non-human people would take. Her stomach suddenly lurched as her imagination provided possibilities. And then, entering the pub, she was suddenly confronted with social anxiety on an everyday scale, one she could relate to…

Watch her. Seek to prevent her from running. Johanna finger-signalled to Ruth, who nodded. The Bucket wasn't even quarter-full, but most clients present were Watchmen. Johanna and Ruth knew them all by name and exchanged greetings on their way to a table. Lucy recognised policemen, even in the strange mediaeval-looking uniform. But practically all of them seem human. As Ruth went to get drinks, a slightly-built dark-haired woman in Watch uniform moved over to them with sinuous grace. She grinned a very toothy grin. Something twanged in Lucy, almost a primeval warning.

"Hi, Johanna. What's new among The Ladies Who Facilitate?" she asked.

"You esk me. Heven't done eny fecilitating in months." Johanna replied, shrugging. "Ere ell your bets flying in a straight line?"

Lucy looked politely baffled, although all her senses were screaming at her to run and find a bathroom with an openable window. The only thing that was stopping her was the realisation she was in a strange city on a strange world and her only link to Pasadena was sitting next to her.

"New recruit?" the toothy girl said. And not "toothy" in a nerdy, safe, unthreatening sort of way. Anything but.

Johanna shrugged. "This is Lucy. New in town. She's from… Pesadena. Small town in Eceria. Lucy, this is Sally von Humpeding. We hev worked together in the Watch. She is a friend."

"Hey!" Sally said, extending a hand. "New in the big city, huh? Nervous? I can feel it. Bat-senses."

Lucy looked to Johanna. She smiled slightly.

"You could think of Selly es a sort of Bet-Girl, ja." she said.

The police in this city have a Batgirl? Seriously cool! Lucy felt relief spreading. Wonder if I'll get to see her fly?

"Bet there aren't too many like me in Aceria." Sally said, lightly. "Whatever you might have heard, we don't bite these days. Well, not much, anyway. Got to go, getting drinks in."

Lucy felt a sense of relief. As the dark girl moved on, she even felt it, like a physical weight lifting. She wondered about what looked like a crudely carved statue in a darker shadowy corner of the pub, in the rough shape of a human being. There was a large ceramic mug in front of it, which steamed. Offering to a God?

"Not so bad, yesno?" Johanna said, encouragingly. Lucy nodded, relaxing. She discreetly asked about the big stony thing in the corner with the steaming mug in front of it. Both the Assassins went poker-faced.

"Some sort of ritual offering to placate him and keep him onside." Ruth mused. "Good one!"

The crude stone statue reached out an arm, with sergeants' stripes carved into it, and picked up the mug. Lucy jumped and yelped.

"Sergeant Detritus is always happiest with a molten-sulphur-onna-rocks at the end of a long shift." Ruth said. "It goes a long way to placating him."

"Ruth end I are both from the same country." Johanna said.

"More or less." Ruth agreed.

"A hot place. Like Efrika. But called Howondaland here. There are no trolls there. We both reacted with elarm when we first encountered them."

Johanna briefly explained about trolls, as a silicon-based intelligent life-form. "In Aceria, which in the fentasy world we were discussing, might be called America, you have a legendary sort of troll-like creature called the Bigfoot.(3) But trolls of eny sort do not exist in the warmer provinces end states, such es Pesedena."

Lucy realised she was being given a cover-story about a part of this world that had a North American vibe to it. She listened carefully. The drink helped. She relaxed a little more, aware Johanna was covertly observing her reactions to the strange new place, feeling she was being tested. She also suspected Ruth was here as additional insurance against her using the bathroom-window bail-out. Although she trusted the cheerful, assertive, black girl too.

She was also relaxing into an environment that looked like an English inn out of history, maybe Roundheads versus Cavaliers, their Civil War, all whitewashed walls, blackened beams, and those cute lead-panelled windows with the round lights that looked like the bottoms of bottles. It was also getting darker outside. She decided to roll with it till it was time to go home to Pasadena. She wondered how many light-centuries away that was and how long it would take her to go by the long route. Better stay with Johanna and Ruth, then.

And then the new Watchmen walked in. He was well over six feet tall, wore an impeccably gleaming uniform, and made her think of one of Cromwell's Roundheads with his short-cropped red hair. He also had the sort of physique that would have made Amy Farrah-Fowler go "whooo…" in a low awed voice and Penny want to buy him lots of drinks.

But Lucy's horrified fascination was on she.

She was smaller and slighter by comparison. She was blonde. Well-formed. Wiry. No spare fat. She had long blonde hair that made Lucy think of Penny, but the resemblance died there. She moved in a flowing agile way that suggested a hunting creature of some sort. A voice inside Lucy's head screeched "Predator!" at her. The blonde woman's eyes searched the room. They feel on Lucy for an instant and then on Johanna and Ruth.

Don't let her come over heredon't let her come over heredon't let her come over heredon't let her come over here…..

"Hi, Johanna! Hi, Ruth!"

"Hi, Angua!"

The terrible predator eyes turned to Lucy, who shrank back from the frank assessment.

"New friend?" Angua asked.

"Ja. From Eceria. The Lower States. This is Lucy. Lucy, this is Ceptain Engua von Überwald of the City Wetch. We are old friends."

Lucy took the offered hand. It was friendly, she knew, but at some level it felt like a paw... with clawed fingernails… it was a human hand, yes, but it felt as if there were something else there too, like one of Johanna's dogs offering her a paw… she sensed the blonde woman jerking up in a visible, but suppressed, moment of some sort of recognition…

I want to get out of here so much! And I don't know where the bathroom is and in any case Johanna and Ruth would follow me and I'm on a new world and this blonde woman isn't a woman at all don't ask me how I know that I just KNOW and if I don't get away she's going to kill me and eat me and maybe start eating me before I'm properly dead and I can still feel it and what's happening…

Lucy screamed, despairingly. Then as her mind fused in anxiety and panic, it happened.

Ruth blinked. A whole pub full of Watchmen either watched, or prudently, averted their eyes. Johanna looked away. Angua rocked on her feet. Something small and very frightened was bounding for the door. Captain Carrot blinked in a moment of surprise, then shouted "Code twenty-three-a! Follow her!"

And then Angua said "Johanna, do the usual? Thanks. Won't be long!"

And every watchman in the room covered his eyes. Johanna prudently closed hers. There were metallic tinkles and the swoosh of fabrics as armour and clothing items fell to the floor. Mr Cheese, the proprietor of the Bucket, paused in cleaning a glass and mildly remarked that you don't see that every day. And certainly not twice. Another something, larger, golden-haired and certainly not something to stand in the way of, bounded for the door, full of purpose.

Johanna swore as she started bundling up Angua's armour and clothing, trying to keep her clothing seperate from Lucy's. Ruth nudged her.

"Did you know that was going to happen?" she asked.

Johanna shook her head.

"Ruth, I honestly tell you I did not hev the slightest bleddy clue!" she said, honestly. "Look efter these clothes. Do not let the Wetch take Lucy's. I will not be long."

Then Johanna was running for the door. Ruth sighed, and signalled Mr Cheese for another drink. The noise of confused chase and commotion filtered through from outside.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder Stibbons sighed as the discussion went on around him concerning neutering Raj Koothrappali's snappy little dog. Ponder normally avoided snappy little dogs. Johanna's massive lion-dogs might be scary by virtue of their very size, but big dogs tended to be more even-tempered. And Ponder had known them since they were puppies. Even then they'd been bigger than Cinnamon. And he had to concede they were ten times preferable to Johanna's other little attempt at rearing a pet in her rooms. (4) He'd never been completely relaxed around Klarenz.

"HEX? How are they getting on back at the Discworld?" he asked. It was time for a progress report.

++Johanna consulted with me and suggested a practice run to the surface of the Disc.++ HEX said. There was silence.

"Go on, HEX." Ponder said.

++I agreed to facilitate this, as it would be instructive to observe how well Lucy adapted, under guidance, to the city of Ankh-Morpork. ++ In the company of Johanna and Miss Ruth N'Kweze, Lucy has visited a pub where they are even now enjoying a social drink and meeting people. ++

"What?" said Sheldon Cooper.

"Who is this Ruth Unkweyzey?" Raj demanded.

++Ruth is a graduate of the Guild of Assassins and a trusted friend of Johanna's.++ HEX said smoothly. ++If Lucy keeps her nerve and trusts them, she will be perfectly safe.++

"Sheldon, they're taking time out for a social drink in a quiet pub." Ponder assured him. Then he frowned as a thought struck him.

"Tell me it's not the Mended Drum. Or the Troll's Head."

++They are in fact in the Bucket, on Gleam Street. ++ HEX said, smoothly. Ponder relaxed. ++An unexpected little complication has arisen. Nothing to provoke a reaction of alarm, but one we will need to discuss later. ++ Johanna is dealing with it, along with Angua von Überwald. ++

"Who's Angua?" Bernadette asked.

"Long story." Ponder said. "Can we just call her a honest copper, for now? Although there's more to it than that..." He felt HEX was leaving out a few details here.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snorri Snorrisson was walking along Gleam Street in the early evening when the commotion began behind him. He barely had time to respond to the cries of "Hey you! Dwarf! Watch out!" and glance round to see what was up. And then the small deer or gazelle or whatever that had erupted out of the door of the Bucket slammed into his back. He was flung to one side, realising that even a small inoffensive forest animal can build up a lot of impetus. He sat up, watching it recede into the distance heedlessly knocking people aside, and reflected that animal had been in a state of wide-eyed panic.

Wondering if the reason for it being here and bloody terrified was down to bloody Cheese putting venison on the pub lunch menu, Snorri got to his feet. He swore as he realised one of the deer's horns had torn his britches leaving a neat eight-inch rip. He remembered his grandfather saying "never believe the fairy stories, lad. Deer ain't defenceless. Not by a long way. You go hunting in the forest, take a good crossbow."

Snorri brushed himself down and resumed walking.

"Oi! Dwarf! Watch out!"

This time the thing that bowled him over, into the road and through a courtesy patch of horse-apples, was a large golden-haired wolf. Snorri spluttered. Now he could see what had panicked the deer. He wasn't crazy about wolves himself. His grandfather had a few tales about them too. He stood up again.

"Hey you! Step aside!"

Thundering footsteps resounded. Snorri Snorrisson found himself buffeted over for a third time. This time by a posse of Watchmen of various species who were in hot pursuit of the wolf and the deer. Snorri was by now deeply irritated.

"The next person!" he shouted, at nobody in particular. "The next person, right, the very next person, who knocks me over, that person is going to feel the blade of my axe, right!"

Then he realised.

"Oh, Hell's Bells". He muttered.

The very next person was an Assassin with red hair in the full black. And this Assassin was well known in the City for being a maverick who normally wore khaki. It was speculated about Johanna Smith-Rhodes that she only ever wore the regulation Black when she was concluding a contract, and therefore had to be scrupulously careful about being properly dressed for the occasion.

Snorri sighed and elected to save time by falling over himself. It was safest.

Johanna, who had only dressed in black because all her favoured khaki clothing was either in the wash or on the Roundworld, gave the Dwarf a curious glance and ran on, soon catching up with the watchmen, electing to follow the trail of havoc left by deer, wolf and Watch.

She soon found a group of intent Watchmen clustered at the mouth of a dark alley. Their attitudes told her all she needed to know, and she moved forward purposefully.

"Err, miss? You can't go in there. Watch business…" said an unfamiliar Watchman trying to block her way.

She moved forward. She regretted not having her watch badge on her. Ah well…

"New round here, are you? I do not hev time for this…"

The Watchman found himself moved several feet to his left very suddenly. A more experienced watchman, who did know Johanna, sniggered. Johanna moved forwards, half-registering running feet in the distance and Captain Carrot shouting "Let her through! Despite appearances, she's with us!"

She let her eyes adjust to the gloom. She saw Angua, lying as unthreateningly as she could manage, her head resting on her forepaws, watching the deer intently, but making no move that could be interpreted as more threatening than, say, being a wolf in the presence of what was normally a prey species.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes is an Assassin, yes. But she's also a Special Constable. She advises us on handling incidents like this…"

Carrot's voice, behind her, setting the new probationary lance-constable straight.

Johanna focused on the quivering, frightened deer. Her head was down and she was presenting two long, sharp horns, the species' primary line of defence. No wonder Angua is being cautious, Johanna thought. Those horns could hurt an incautious wolf. And that's more of a gazelle. A Grant's Gazelle, possibly. One of the things distinguishing gazelle from deer. Females have horns too. Dark brown on upper surfaces, white on lower. Too large to be a muntjak or a Thomson's. A little less than thirty inches at the shoulder. Right for a female Grant.

"Lucy? Johanna said, gently. "Cen you hear me? I said when we first met thet I meant you no harm, end would ellow none to happen to you."

She raised empty hands and walked forwards.

"Engua is a werewolf, yes. She is elso a policewoman. To protect end to serve. Unlike some members of the Los Angeles police force, here thet is taken seriously. She will remember thet in her human form she is a policewoman, end her role is to escort you safely out of here."

The deer was looking up at her. Through big wide dark eyes she recognised as Lucy's.

The deer-mind recognised the strong, confident human female with long red hair and recognised friend through the red-orange light and musky stink of panic and fear. The deer-mind was unsure as to why this human was friend. Something about her dress and carriage said she was an even more fearsome predator than the wolf, which for some reason was delaying its final attack. But memories she could not quite retrieve were saying the red human was to be trusted. She listened to the words. And memories or half-remembered dreams of being a human called Lucy were spiralling up, in fragments and splinters…

"Lucy? It eppears in this place you are a were-creature. In need you became a deer. You can just es easily revert to your human form. You will know how to do it. The emergency is over. Engua is a friend. I em your friend. Engua, perhaps if you retired a little way? Lucy. Trust your instincts…"

The deer-mind, still fixated on the terrifying wolf, allowed the human female to kneel by her and pet her coat. She relaxed slightly. The wolf had retired a little way down the alley and was watching still, with intent. Then the wolf turned and trotted off back towards the other humans in the distance.

Then the Knowledge arrived. Johanna shut her eyes and tried not to focus on the changes happening in the body she was touching. Then it was over and Lucy was there, naked.

"Where are my clothes?" she shrieked. Johanna gave her her cloak.

"I'm sorry. Your clothes are in the pub. Ruth is looking after them. I should tell you thet you elways return naked, by the way."

Johanna noted broken glass on the alley floor and said "you are barefoot. Permit me." And carried her, wrapped in the borrowed cloak. Lucy weighed light. For a short distance, she was no great burden.

"We are returning to the Bucket." she said to Carrot. "Hers end Engua's clothing are still there, for one thing." Carrot nodded. She fancied the large golden-haired wolf nodded too, even more emphatically.

"Should I take her?" Carrot asked. Lucy looked spent and exhausted. Even though she was slight and lightweight, Johanna appreciated the offer and passed her to Carrot, who carried her gently and easily. Johanna smiled. Lucy wasn't above making the most of it and putting her arms round his neck. Johanna didn't blame her; she thought she would have done much the same in similar circumstances.

"She's not under arrest." Angua said, human now. "But I've still got to make a report, Johanna. You know why."

"Of course." Johanna said. She looked sideways at Lucy, who was recovering with a hot coffee that Mr Cheese had been prevailed upon to make. Both were dressed again. Carrot had resolved the modesty problem by ordering all the Watchmen in a suddenly full Bucket to form an outward-facing circle, and anyone who looked over his shoulder was going to be up in front of Mr Vimes, am I understood?

Angua and Lucy had Changed and dressed inside the circle, and now the werewolf had spent time quietly talking to the were-deer, reassuring her, pointing out that yes, once upon a time she'd have only seen a venison dinner, but these times now are not those times then, if you understand. Besides, my people did some terrible things a long time ago. I like to think I've moved on from that.

"After the business with the were-leopards." Angua said. (5). "Vetinari laid that extra duty on me."

Johanna understood. Angua was responsible for identifying and monitoring other were-creatures as they arrived in the city. After the were-leopards had arrived from Howondaland and caused trouble, it was a prudent security precaution to take and it was agreed Angua was best placed to do it.

"But a were-deer is not in the same league or degree of threat to the city as a were-leopard." Johanna observed.

"Oh, I agree!" Angua said. "In Lucy's case, she needs protecting from the City. Too many people around here are only going to see venison walking. You know, it beats me what advantage you'd get, anywhere, at all, from being a were-deer."

"Well, she cen call on Herne the Hunted as her patron God." Johanna said, thoughtfully. "Maybe He created them. Who knows?"

"I knew the moment I saw her." Angua said. "And she knew it in me. I guess we weres recognise each other on sight. Wish I'd been open to that with the leopards."

"You weren't to know. Ag, I'm from Howondaland too, end it took me too long to work it out!"

They took long reflective drinks. Angua said

"Johanna, can you add a line or two to my report for Mr Vimes and Vetinari?"

"Of course. I understand you have to monitor Lucy's presence in the city. Cen you release her into my personal custody end I cen take her to a place of safety? I will edvise Lord Vetinari of this in my eddition to your report and essure him she will be safe where I take her."

Angua indicated this was agreeable.

"Aceria, eh?" she said. "It's a big country." (6)

"Bigger than you could imegine." Johanna agreed, with absolute and completely scrupulous honesty.

And later on, Lucy said she'd quite like to go home. Johanna and Ruth took her back to the safe place where the Travelling Engine was parked. They paused briefly at the guild of Assassins to pick some things up, then HEX laid in a course for 2311 North los Robles.

Johanna reflected on the visit and the logical, although wholly unexpected, Lucy-event. It had been a good lesson. If Leonard Hofstadter had potential magical talent which was almost wholly latent on Roundworld but which they anticipated would emerge on the Disc (and here she kicked herself for missing the obvious) – why had they thought he was going to be the only one? And patient questioning had elicited information that Lucy, all her life, had odd vivid dreams of running as a deer. Just as Leonard could see the octarine in pictures of the Disc. Johanna frowned, consulted with HEX, and decided to screen the others for little oddnesses like this. Just in case.

And a larger party than anticipated travelled back to Pasadena.

To Be Continued.

Let us say Raj's woes concerning Cinnamon are set to increase.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) This one crept up on me too. I wasn't consciously doing it. But there it was on the page. Another for the soundtrack. Enigma. MCMXCAD. The introduction to Sadeness. Hey, if Douglas Adams could have the Eagles and banjos, I'm claiming Enigma and panpipes for my space travellers. I have a suspicion Terry Pratchett would approve of Enigma as the backing music for somebody getting their first trip into space to see his world from outside.

(2) For the distinction between Prostitutes and Seamstresses, see my short The New Guild, which features Sandra Battye.

(3) Ponder Stibbons had told her how the Bigfoot thing had started in the USA. On the Discworld there is a creature called the yeti, a specialised form of mountain troll that can manipulate time and, for instance, roll back the timeline from a saved moment so as to outwit a predator. (Refer to Terry Pratchett, Thief of Time) The next stage in Yeti evolution had been to realise that time and space are closely linked. A creature capable of manipulating time just needed to think in a different way and step across dimensions to avoid predators or get an edge. Yetis had indeed manipulated space to get a foothold in the Roundworld, largely in places congenial to them like Tibet and the Rocky Mountains.

(4). See my Discworld Tarot story Strength/Fortitude for the tale of Johanna's attempt at rearing an, er, domesticated cat. Called Klarenz. Well, she is, in Howondaland, distinguished with the title of Daktari.

(5) See my story Whys and Weres, in which Angua realises the hard way that werewolves are not the only shapeshifters on the disc, Despite her peoples' determined efforts to wipe out the competition.

(6) Aceria in my fics is of course the catch-all term for the Discworld's analogue of North America, with all its little quirks, both Canada and Eagle-Land, taken up to eleven in the best Pratchett style.

General note: In City Watch parlance, a code 23 deals with any City-threatening supernatural manifestation. A Code 23a is a sub-code: this one deals with the sudden appearance of a rogue werecreature of any animal type. one that has the potential to cause trouble even by just Changing, however unlikely or inoffensive the animal form it takes. Lord Vetinari is very clear on the need for all types of weres to be investigated, logged, identified, reported on and if necessary covertly watched. Especially after that business with the were-leopards. This may recur later in the story.

Chapter 23: The Canine Training Difficulty

Wheeler-Bell Twenty-Three

The wolf-dog differentiation


In which a new member joins the group

HEX counted down as the visiting party prepared to return to Pasadena. The thinking engine had accepted that Ruth N'Kweze was now part of the pinky-swear, and she was happily sitting astride the informal pillion seat behind the two principal expedition members. Johanna reached out, as best she could, to shoulder-hug Lucy, who smiled weakly. She was hampered by a very large dog that was draped on her, around her, and over her. She had not had the heart or will to leave them behind. Not when Kaffee had trotted over to her with his lead in his mouth and a big wide soulful expression on his face. Crème was precariously sitting with her back feet on a supporting cross-strut and her forepaws supported on Ruth's shoulders. HEX had not been too happy with this but had given in with as near to good grace as a computing engine can manage. Ruth had suggested this was a really good chance to gain valuable data as to how well dogs could cope with space travel. Lucy had quipped something about I laika the sound of that, to the bafflement of the two Discworlders.

"Sorry." She apologised. "Been too near to Howard Wolowitz. It's his joke."

"But you cen still joke." Johanna Smith-Rhodes said. "Given whet happened, thet is good."

They had had an interesting time on the Discworld. Lucy had discovered an ability latent on Earth but which blossomed in a magical environment. She was still trying to grasp the enormity of it all, but had remarked that it's not every day you get to develop a super-power.

"I just don't recall being bitten by a radioactive spider." she said, baffled.

Johanna knew enough to relate this to the Peter Parker science-fantasy fable. She gathered radioactivity endowing superpowers was something of a cliché in the comics universe.(1)

She also thought that, if you discounted the likelier intermediary of a radioactive deer-tick, Lucy's unique situation required no third-party intervention at all. Prone to crippling social anxiety and phobia on her own world, Lucy had simply overloaded with panic on meeting her very first werewolf. Johanna decided to run this past Amy. She visualised Amy Farrah-Fowler making a diagnosis: the conscious reasoning centres of her brain had shut down allowing the lower, mammalian, limbic brain to take over, precipitating a flood of Mysteriosone and Therianthropase Hydroxylate acting on mutable bodily cells, which allowed her to transmute into the form of a cervinian artiodactylian creature. Or something.

As the Travelling Engine thrummed into life, Johanna was musing on if the technical term for the werewolf condition is lycanthropy, what do you call it when a human is capable of transforming into a deer? Or a gazelle? There must be a word….

And the Travelling Engine vanished from Johanna's rooms in Filigree Street, Ankh-Morpork.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, in the dark pit of the night and sleeping on her own, Amy Farrah-Fowler would reflect on the nature and inevitability of Famous Last Words. She would wonder if a mechanism existed to make them both highly ironic, and spoken in the presence of a lot of people who would all remember. (2)

The words came back to her, unbidden.

"Well, at least no large insistent male canine is going to get into the apartment. Nothing untoward is going to happen here!"

She winced and pulled the covers over her head. Johanna and Lucy had returned from their trip. And they hadn't been the only ones…
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Mobius argument concerning the necessity for Raj to have his pet dog neutered, and his adamant refusal to even consider the idea, stopped when the room began humming, announcing the return of the Travelling Engine. Leonard prudently got out of the space it generally occupied. Apparently the Engine was designed to bump things out of its way when it materialised. With some force. A destroyed wall somewhere in New York was testimony to that. Cinnamon began to whine.

And then things got busy. A lot more people returned than left. And the first thing everyone noticed were two extremely large dogs who bounded for freedom, sniffed the air and went to seek new friends who they knew were sure to be nice to them, or Mistress would not have brought us here. One of the two dogs, paler colored than the other, leapt for Sheldon Cooper, barking madly. Sheldon, whimpering, was backed against the wall as the huge creature leapt up at him. As he slumped into a gibbering heap, the dog's jaws opened. And a large wet tongue started to lick his face reassuringly.

Ponder Stibbons, realising, called "Crème! Heel!"

Leonard nudged him.

"Your dogs, Ponder?"

"No, Johanna's. I know them. I think they'll respond."

Leonard shook his head.

"I'm sure they will, Ponder. Only… not just yet, huh?"

He indicated Sheldon, grinning.

The darker-colored of the two dogs was more of an immediate problem. He sniffed the air, growled excitedly, and ran for Cinnamon. Who turned in Sheldon's spot and raised her rear end invitingly. Johanna and Penny instantly realised what was about to happen here….

"Oh, freak!" Penny shrieked. Johanna was racing for her dog to drag it away by the collar. Penny tried to add her own weight. Their combined strength just about held the lion-dog back from making physical contact.

"Ruth!" Johanna shouted. "Get this little dog! Bedrooms through to your right! Lock it eway!"

The newcomer, a black-skinned woman dressed in black, reached over the top of the sofa to grab Cinnamon. The little dog growled in an affronted way. Kaffee made to follow, dragging Johanna and Penny with him. But the black girl moved swiftly. In the distance, everybody heard a growl, a snap, a female shriek, followed by "you bloody little SOD!" and the sound of a door closing firmly.

In the ensuing calm, Ruth returned, holding one hand from which blood was dripping.

"The little bastard bit me." she complained. "Gods know what people see in those fussy little shitehounds, anyway..."

She paused. Everybody was looking at her. She realised she'd not been introduced.

"Err.. hi…"

"My colleague. Ruth N'Kweze." Johanna said.

"Better get your hand looked at." Bernadette said. "That's bleeding bad."

"Yes. I know it's bleeding bad." Ruth said, flatly. "And there's blood everywhere."

Bernadette looked at her, blankly.

"Sorry. Joke. Hi, I'm Ruth."

"I'm Bernadette. Let's get you bandaged."

Sheldon was now full length on the floor with a very friendly dog standing over him licking whatever she could reach. He was whimpering.

Johanna smiled. She could see a little humour in this, but decided to be responsible.

"Crème! Bly!" she ordered. The dog left off from licking Sheldon and obediently trotted to her side. Kaffee was a little harder to manage, but Johanna got him to sit by force of will, the bitch in heat having been forcibly separated from him. She breathed hard. Like all owners of big male dogs, she had good cause to curse verdammte idiots who didn't realise their bitches were in heat, or who realised but let them go out anyway. Just one sniff and your previously obedient, biddable, dog could become very hard work. And male dogs fought among themselves under the spell of that smell. Just to get there first.

Johanna took in the scene. Bernadette, helping Ruth clean her wound and bandage her hand. Penny, enthusiastically making new doggy friends. Lucy, looking amused, still sitting in the front of the Travelling Engine, but looking slightly out of it, as if she'd been taking some interesting medication. Sheldon, catatonic with shock, trembling and being helped to his feet by Leonard and Ponder. Raj, rushing towards the bedrooms demanding to know what was happening to his little Cinnamon and hoping loudly she was alright. Ruth glaring at him and saying "Yeah, you really need to find out if she broke any teeth biting the big nasty cruel human woman."

Which left Howard and Amy.

Amy looked impassive.

"Some dogs, huh?" she said. Adding "Raj, do not open that door! Or at least, don't let her out!"

Johanna pulled hard on Kaffee's lead, warningly. She knew that with a dog at least twice as powerful as you were, ownership was a matter of bluff, of asserting your will. Or you were in trouble. The one set of circumstances where a male dog would break training and defy its owner was right here in front of her – a bitch in heat was nearby. And with a Lion Dog, a Ridgeback, this was no small thing.

"Usually, they behave." Johanna said, grimly. "Thet bleddy little bitch belongs to Raj, yesno?"

Amy nodded. "We told him it was not a good idea to bring her out tonight." She said. "Somehow he is blind to her being in heat and everything this implies. I guess your dog is intact? Ah-huh. Explains a lot."

They watched Sheldon being coaxed back to consciousness. Howard and Leonard appeared to be enjoying themselves in some subtle way, although both were throwing occasional apprehensive glances at the dogs.

"Sheldon? Sheldon, buddy? You've had a shock." Leonard said. "Lucky for you that dog was only sayin' hello, huh?"

"Yeah. Like Raj kissin' his dog." Howard agreed. "Only that dog was kissin' you, and with a lot more tongue. Gotta say you got a lot of doggy spit all over you, Sheldon. Better change your clothes, huh? Take a shower."

"And perhaps mouthwash." Amy suggested. "It is possible some went into your mouth. Canine saliva is not the most sterile substance on Earth."

Sheldon gagged and lurched for the bathroom. Johanna turned to Amy. She indicated Lucy.

"Whet I meant to do first when we errived beck. Lucy requires ettention. Does she live elone? With enyone? I do not went her to be on her own tonight. She hed…." Johanna paused, searching for words that would not sound outlandish. "She hed a serious penic etteck on my world. Certain espects were too much for her. I believe she is physically end mentally sound, but she hed a shock to her system. Perheps a sedative, end somebody to wetch her tonight. She will, I em sure, tell you a very odd story. I essure you it will be true in ell respects."

Amy nodded.

"Care to tell me more about it?" she asked. "I sense your world is a very strange place. But so far everything you have said that can be validated has proven factually correct and truthful. Including some seriously weird stuff."

"Ja. You are perheps the best person to speak to." Johanna said. "There will be espects of Lucy's recent experience which you will find of direct professional interest."

"Perhaps. When I have assured myself of Sheldon's wellbeing. I could take Lucy to my apartment and let her sleep there for the night. I have access to sedative drugs and I can monitor her state of mind. She does seem to be showing the after-effects of trauma of some kind."

"Thank you, Doctor Farrah-Fowler." Johanna said, relieved. Amy reached down and patted a happy dog. She did not have to reach down too far. Crème nuzzled her hand and panted.

"I could get to like these guys." she said. "It is so interesting that the biggest dogs are usually the most mentally well-adjusted. Perhaps the tiny ones feel they have to assert themselves more. Or else they attract dumb owners."

"In my experience, very dumb owners." Johanna said, watching an indignant-looking Raj returning. At least, she thought, he had had the sense not to bring his dog with him.

He stormed over to Johanna, looking angry. She raised a hand, warningly.

"Your dog… your canine rapist…" Raj spluttered.

"Hey! It was Cinnamon who put her butt up in the air and practically begged for it!" Penny shouted, indignantly. She was petting Kaffee, who was showing great appreciation for his new human friend.

"Please." Johanna said, not wanting to be sidetracked when there were more important things. "We could discuss issues of blame for hours end get nowhere. Whet we really need to do is to make a plen. Several plens, in fect. We are neglecting Lucy. She requires ettention."

"Uh-huh. Thanks, hon. Hey, Lucy. Sweetie. You okay there?" Penny asked. "Uh, you're not. Here, lemme help you to the couch…"

Penny smelt alcohol on the girl's breath, but was more concerned that she was a little unfocused and slightly out of it, as if tripping.

"You've not been doin' drugs, have you?" she asked, concerned.

"Met a werewolf." Lucy mumbled. Penny looked to Johanna's dogs and raised an eyebrow. Johanna shook her head.

"A real werewolf." she clarified.

"Scary werewolf. Real scary. Got really scared. Turned to animal. Johanna said a deer or an antelope or som'thing. Ran. Werewolf chased. Turned out to be nice friendly werewolf. Just looked scary. Big guy. Big sexy guy. Real whoo. Carried me back to pub. Turned human again. Werewolf turned into nice lady called Angua. Blonde hair like Penny. Werewolf bought me drink. Explained about being were. Made it better. Then Johanna and Ruth got me back here. With big friendly dogs. Coffee and Cream. Nice dogs."

Penny gently laid Lucy down on the couch. She considered, then covered her with the black cloak she'd returned in. Lucy's eyes closed and she drifted into sleep.

"You, er, sorrta mentioned werewolves on your world the other night?"

Penny said. Johanna nodded.

"They exist." she said. "End not just wolves. There are other people who cen change to other sorts of enimels. It just did not occur to me thet Lucy, once on our world, would discover she hes the ebility too."

"Lucy's a werewolf?" Howard said, half-disbelievingly.

"Who's the big sexy guy she met? She fell asleep on me before she could say!" Bernadette asked.

"Yeah. She kindda left that bit dangling!" Penny agreed. "If your world has got loadssa big sexy guys, Johanna, you fix me a ticket! I'm visiting! "

"Now no planet is safe…" Howard mused. "OW!"

"Not a werewolf." Johanna said, trying to answer several questions at once. "End the big good-looking guy who would make anyone go whoo is called Carrot. Yes. I know. We cennot be blamed for the names our parents choose. Unfortunetely for you all he is es good es merried to my friend Engua. Who is indeed a werewolf. Who, luckily for Lucy, is a reformed werewolf."

Johana quickly explained the evening's adventure. Ponder Stibbons did a face-palm.

"None of us could hev known, Ponder." Johanna said, soothingly. "I suspect not even HEX. Something with potential to become was latent in Lucy, end would hev remained so in this world. But I took her to a world where everything was right for her potential to emerge. I believe the penic end the anxiety, in our world with its powerful megicel flux, tipped her over, end her desire to run from a threat found only one route out. She became ectively were, and became a small frightened deer. Literally so. End any cervine under threat will ectivate its defensive stretegy, end run. The fear end the transition hev left her drained. She will sleep. Engua believes in the morning she will have a raging hunger end thirst."

"She is a vegetarian." Raj said, his outrage over Cinnamon fading. "Like a deer in that respect."

"Will she change on this world?" Leonard asked. Ponder shook his head.

"Not here. The conditions are wrong here. At least, I'm guessing that was her first time?"

"She said she hes hed odd dreams ell her life of being a deer and running with deer." Johanna said. "But this is es far es it went."

Johanna considered for a moment.

"Amy." she said. "You put me into thet very clever CAT-scenning mechine. You observed my brain end made some very eccurate statements ebout my state of mind. But you concluded I em nothing more or less then human. Whet would happen, do you think, if you were to scen Lucy's brain?"

Amy went very quiet for a moment or two. Then she said

"..whooo…." quietly. Excited, Amy added

"It would test out the hypothesis if I could take a blood sample from Lucy. We are only a couple of hours further on from her experience. I am guessing her blood would still show abnormally high levels of cortisone, ephenidrene, noradrenalin, adrenaline, and other hormones and neurochemical agents consistent with alarm and panic. If I'm correct, I would propose that on your world, these are the specific triggers causing Lucy's change of state. A measurable decay rate in the blood sample would indicate that two hours ago, the levels of these chemicals went way off the scale. Would it be considered unethical if I did that now? I can test the samples later."

"And after that, are there drugs you can administer?" Ponder asked.

Amy considered. Bernadette spoke up first.

"Sure thing! Beta-blockers. Can't beat them. Got some in the stash. Howie needs them sometimes when his mom's stressing him out. They work by stopping the body taking up things like ephenidrene and adrenalin. Keeps you calm and blood pressure down."

"The stash?" Leonard questioned. Bernadette gave him a slightly pitying look.

"I make the things, Leonard! Anything useful, I can take a few home with me. I'm my own pharmacy!"

"So in principle, these drugs, if Lucy took a supply to the Discworld, might inhibit the body chemistry thet ectivates the were-deer response?" Johanna asked.

"Worth trying!" Bernadette said, cheerfully.

Johanna smiled. And now for the other thing.

"Rajesh, we cen discuss our issues with our respective dogs on enother occasion." She said. "Do not argue. Save it for when we cen speak retionelly. For now, it would be a good idea if you were to take your dog home end keep her there, indoors. Other dog-owners will thenk you for it. A bitch in heat is disruptive. Es we hev seen. End no. I would not hev permitted my dog to mate with yours. Thet would hev been irresponsible end cruel. The difference in size end mass, for one thing…"

"Yeah, but from Cinnamon's point of view." Penny said. "Definite big sexy male! Whoo! "

Johanna smiled.

"Possibly. I cen see thet. But, Penny. Think of this. Very small female. Receiving a very big male. A bitch may hev up to eight puppies. Sometimes more. Imegine Ridgebeck-fathered puppies forming inside such a small mother? Eight of them?"

Johanna waited. Penny, Amy. Bernadette and Ruth all said "Ouch…." More-or-less together. Ponder noted how all four clenched their thighs and knees closely together, as if protecting themselves where it mattered most. He wondered if they were consciously aware of this.

"Cruel to the mother. End to the puppies. End Raj. One day a male dog will get to Cinnamon. You hed better hope it is a dog of her own size end general shape. Which is all I will say tonight. Whet I propose is thet Penny end I will take my own dogs for a walk outside, for an hour or so. By the time we return, I expect Cinnamon will not be here? Thenk you, Raj. Thet is helpful."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raj took Cinnamon back to his apartment. Lucy slept on, on the couch. Amy went to check on Sheldon. Apparently he had gone to bed in a state of shock after spending a long time under the shower and gargling with various antiseptic mouthwashes. Bernadette and Ruth bonded. The fact Bernadette had bandaged her up after a dog-bite helped. And that Howard was making the usual sort of approaches to the new girl in the team, if only out of habit. It gave both girls a chance to slap him down.

Ponder was discussing non-human people on the Discworld with Leonard, with particular attention to weres. Ruth chimed in with her perspective on the were-leopard business a year or two before. (3)

"So you and Johanna…" Howard said, suspending disbelief.

"And Angua." Ruth added.

"And a werewolf gal called Angua. One of the good guys. You had to go out hunting down these other guys who were half-human and half leopard. " Howard paused. Then he asked Ruth

"What's it like living inside an awesome comic book?"

"Huh?" Ruth said, nonplussed.

"Comic books are important here." Ponder said. "You'll find out later."

Ponder sensed the were-leopard story would soon start to touch on the bits that Ruth was still sensitive about. He'd been there too and knew she'd come out of it alive, but a widow. (4) The circumstances in which she'd become a widow were not ones she liked to talk about too much.

Towards the Hub of our world – you can think of that as the Arctic, perhaps – there are known were-bears." Ponder said, moving the subject on. There's at least one in our City. He's peaceful and quiet, but the word is that you would not want to get him angry. Seriously. The word "Berserker" applies."

"Beornings." Howard said, knowledgeably.

"He is called Beorn. Yes." Ruth said, missing the point. "Nice guy. Short on conversation, though."

"And on the other side of the Disc. The Agatean Empire. You've got China, Japan, Burma, Thailand, Korea, here, yes? We've got Agatea. Think of it as Asia, for now. That's not the whole picture as we also have a place called Ghat which isn't in Agatea. It'll do for now. Err. Fox-kami. Were-foxes. We've got them too. They're elusive and shy. They're said to be creatures who've had to learn to use cunning and wits to live. Different angle on survival, you see."

"Japanese thing." Leonard said, nodding. "Pop up in a lot of manga and animé."

"And hentai." Howard said.

"That's sort of late-night dirty adults-only animé." Bernadette said, helpfully. "Howie used to have lots and lots of it."

She looked stern and disapproving. As a woman would who realises even her boyfriend's porn came in the form of cartoons. Penny had described that as "nerd double-plus".

Howard looked shifty. As a man might whose wife thinks he's got rid of all his porn. He had divided his hentai collection between Raj and Leonard, knowing it was there to borrow if needed. (5)

"And now you gotta were-deer. Or were-gazelle. Or were-antelope." Leonard said, nodding over to Lucy, who was deeply asleep. Ponder sighed.

"Johanna thought she'd identified the animal species Lucy turned to." Ruth said. "But she wasn't sure. She was puzzled as to why somebody from Ac… North America on this world should transform to an animal species from Howon… Africa. She thought it would make more sense if Lucy's genes resonated to something more local to where she was born. She's asked if I can research that while I'm here. She said something about a thing called a wikipedia?"

"Yeah, sure. What if we give you the teach-in on computers and the Internet? Ponder and Johanna were quick learners." Leonard said.

Howard added "So that's werewolves. Yeah. We got that myth here. Were-bears. Kinda like Viking berserker warriors, huh? Legends say they fought so hard people thought they were up against grizzly bears. Ber-serk. Bear-skin. Fits. Then you get werefoxes. Japanese. Were-leopards. Out of African legends?"

"More than legends." Ruth said, firmly. "I'm Howon… African. I should know. Ask Johanna sometime about the legend who put those scars on her left arm. The ones that show up white against her suntan."

"One of them bit her." Ponder said, clarifying. "The were-leopards."

"Leopard? Ouch!" Bernadette said.

"Yes, she said it stung a bit." Ruth added, drily. "If it wasn't for the fact she was wearing an armoured sleeve, it wouldn't just have broken her arm, it'd have ripped it off!"

The Roundworlders digested this.

"Johanna had her armour silver-plated." Ruth said. "So it hurt the were-creature at least as much as it hurt her. That's pretty much a constant thing, right, Ponder? The only things that can really permanently damage a werecreature are silver and fire."

Ponder nodded, absently. He looked over to the sleeping Lucy. An idea was flaring up in his mind…
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the very late Pasadena evening, two women were alternately walking fast or running with two dogs. They exchanged the usual politenesses with other late-night dog-walkers they encountered. Their respective dogs exchanged the usual canine politenesses of sniffing and nuzzling. Johanna was relieved that the other dog-walkers seemed a lot more aware and responsible than Raj, and there were no bitches in heat who were out.

"Whoo-hoo!" Penny said, exultantly. She was controlling Crème's leash. She was really enjoying herself.

"Johanna, I really love these big guys!" she said. Crème came at least up to her waist. Penny had never seen a bigger dog in her life. And she loved working with such a good-natured well-trained dog.

"Thet is good." Johanna said, pulling back on Kaffee's leash as a car passed by. She realised her dogs were not used to automobiles, but were wise enough to treat them warily and showed no indication to bound chasing after them. She emphasised they were at a roadside, and should wait and check the traffic, by firmly pushing down on Kaffee's rump. The dog got the cue and obediently sat. He would soon learn to sit automatically if Johanna stopped at the edge of a sidewalk.

"Hey, listen. Sheldon's never gonna let them in the apartment again in a million years. Not after this big guy slathered loadssa spit all over him. But, hon, I really don't mind these guys in my apartment for a day or two!"

"Thenk you." Johanna said, sincerely. "This was not meant to be permanent, Penny. Efter nearly two weeks here I was really missing them. I plen to return them home in a day or two."

"Hey, don't apologise. I know how it is!" Penny said. "If they don't chew the furniture or tear the place up, I'd love to have them!"

They set off again at a fast pace.

"They eat a lot, huh?"

"You would be surprised." Johanna replied. "Or maybe not. I will, of course, pey for their keep."

"Ah-huh. Better take a truck to the petfood store. I'm assuming they eat normal for dogs, just lots of it?"

Penny then explained Cinnamon's normal diet. Johanna winced.

"There is nothing wrong in your dog heving a little of whet you would normally eat." She said. "Es a treat. But the more I hear, the more I believe in this case it is the owner who requires remedial training. Not the dog. She looked too fet es it is. This is not good. Rich food end little ectivity."

"So how do we do it, hon?" Penny asked. "Cinnamon ain't a bad dog. But she's got the wrong sort of owner."

"We begin by neutering the creature." Johanna said, decisively. "If Raj hes no intention to breed from her, this is a kindness. It elso prevents the emberresment we saw earlier tonight. If he does nothing now, this will recur up to four times a year. I made the decision with my dogs to perform the operation on Crème. She is far better edjusted for it end it spares me emberresment. Kaffee is from the same litter, ja, but if she hed gone into heat end the two were in my rooms, all he would see is a bitch in heat. Thet she is his sister will not enter into it. Thet is a human teboo. Thet I did not went."

"You got good veterinarians on your world?" Penny asked. Johanna grinned.

"Penny, in my home, I em a good veterinarian! I menege a zoo end curate enamel collections. Some things you learn to do from necessity. I performed the necessary operation on Crème myself. I would not hev suffered other hends touching her with a knife."

"Ah-huh. Talk to Amy? She was telling Raj she could have done it there and then on the kitchen counter. She snips most of her own lab animals. And hon, Bernie's a biochemist. Any drugs you need, she can either brew up or get from work. Medical drugs, I mean. You need an anaesthetic, you ask Bernie."

"IzzatSO!" Johanna said. Ideas were forming. "So between us, we cen safely perform a hysterectomy on Cinnamon. All we need do is speak to Raj until he gives consent."

"Good luck in that." Penny replied. "That guy is one stubborn Indian about his dog."

They ran on, enjoying the cool night air. Compared to the Discworld she'd just left, Johanna loved it. She explained she wanted to get her dogs, especially Kaffee, good and tired and for him to forget the recent frustrating experience of being near a bitch in heat and being forcibly prevented from doing something about it.

"Ah-huh. Not good for guys. Of any species." Penny replied. She glanced back. "Police car, hon. Look natural. Or they might stop and ask difficult questions about rabies shots and dog licences. And I'm pretty sure we ain't got none."

The police car slowed and its occupants took a good look. Two massive dogs and two above-averagely pretty girls. Penny waved a cheerful greeting. The cops waved back. One wound down the window.

"Nice dogs!" he said, cheerfully. "Rhodesian Ridgebacks, I guess?"

"Ja. My own!" Johanna said, smiling. He'd correctly identified the breed, she noticed.

They exchanged small-talk with the cop, who wished them a good night's walk, and drove on.

"Close." Penny said. "Gotta get the paperwork, sweetie. Mebbe HEX can help you there? Needs a tag for the collar to say they're licenced and free from anything infectious. Else they can be taken to the pound."

They decided to return. Elsewhere two Los Angeles coppers agreed that those two dames were probably the safest people on the street right now. Any guy approaching with evil intent was just gonna be tomorrow's dog-shit on the pavement once those Ridgebacks were done.

"You will notice I did not elect to get out of the patrol vehicle." The experienced cop who'd done the talking said to his rookie partner. "Good-looking though those gals are. If either of those dogs had taken it into its head that I was a threat to those ladies, you couldn't have stopped them with a direct hit from an Abrams. I sure as Hell wasn't gonna check their collars for a valid licence. This job don't pay nearly enough for that."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So the silver bullet thing actually works? It isn't a myth?" Howard asked.

"Silver and fire." Ruth said. "The only two things which will permanently kill a were-creature. So far as we know, any were-creature. They can be temporarily killed. They can take a lot of damage. They might look dead. But unless silver or fire are involved, they repair the damage and come back."

"On your world. Lucy's immortal?" Bernadette squeaked. "Far out!"

"It's not as easy as that." Ponder said. "They suffer real pain when the damage is inflicted. And if you break a werewolf's legs, it will have the pain of the broken legs plus the inconvenience of immobility. Even though when the moon rises, the broken bones will knit together and it will be restored. Would you want to see that happen to Lucy? She'd still feel agony."

Bernadette frowned. "No. I guess not. Though now this has come up, I remember the other night when she went roof-running with Penny and Johanna. Afterwards, she said when she was five, she'd been climbing out of the bathroom window to get away from something and she'd fallen and broken her leg. The doctors said it healed three times faster than they'd ever seen before. Some people heal faster than others. Lucy said she healed super-fast. She said she wondered if she'd fallen, would she still have healed so quickly as an adult."

Ponder's brows knitted in furious thought. So on this world there are indicators and pointers… nothing massively significant in itself. Just odd little things, like weak echoes of the full-blown thing on the Disc…

"Ruth? Bernadette? Are either of you wearing anything made of silver?"

Bernadette provided a silver ring. Ponder thanked her, and went over to the sleeping Lucy. Hoping he wouldn't hurt her too much, he held the ring to the exposed skin of the back of her hand and touched it. Lucy whimpered in her sleep. Ponder pulled the ring away sharply. There was a red weal, like a mild burn, where it had touched.

"Sorry, Lucy. I had to be sure." he said.

Odd recurring dreams of being a deer and running from frightening things. She heals quickly after damage. Silver brings her out in a rash. She goes to the Discworld and in our magical field, she becomes a werecreature. I think I've got a picture now. What to look for in a Roundworlder who is likely to be a were on our world. Three pointers. It's a beginning, anyway.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) She knew enough to be aware that Discworld alchemists exposed to the odourless bad smell of radiation, say from Gaspodium or Uselessium, tended only to develop the not especially coveted superpower of dying some time later in horrible disfiguring agony. Her colleague Joan Sanderson-Reeves had speculated about using Gaspodium as an inhumation device, say sewing it into a chair's uphplstery at neck-height so it acted directly on the brain and spinal cord. Joan had an inventively nasty mind for poisoning and saw radioactive elements as another interesting toxin.

(2) There was. Narrativium, a substance in-known on Roundworld but capable of existing, in the presence of visitors from the Disc, for just long enough.

(3) See my story Whys and Weres.

(4) She'd passed another sort of Assassin test with flying colours: placed in a situation where she'd had to make herself a widow to fulfil an Assassin contract.

(5) Penny, when she found out, had objected strongly. Leonard had passed his half of Howard's hentai stash plus his own to Raj, who now had it all.

Chapter 24: The Economic Redistribution Theory

Wheeler-Bell Twenty-Four

The Economic Accretion

In which HEX explains where the money is coming from and a new member joins the group

Bernadette, Penny, and the new girl Ruth had returned to Penny's apartment, bringing the big dogs with them. Bernadette was trying not to draw the attention of two dogs, either of which were bigger than she was. Although she realised they were friendly and good-natured and were likely to stay that way, the sheer size of them was still intimidating. She was glad one was lolloping all over Ruth whilst Penny was joyously bonding with the other.

"I just love these big guys!" Penny said, delighted with her new best buddy. "Though Sheldon didn't, huh?"

Ruth grinned.

"That's the long thin guy, isn't it? And you tell me he gets the wobblies if even a little bird so much as looks at him?"

The other two nodded, trying to keep straight faces. Amy was sitting up with Sheldon in his room, soothing and reassuring him after his canine trauma, most probably delighted to have a legitimate excuse to be in Sheldon's bedroom while he was in the bed. In his current state, he was not likely to protest.

"Bit of an oh-dear moment, then." Ruth mused. To the others, her accent was educated British with just a hint of Johanna's perceived South African. Ruth had been explaining about herself, about how she'd been sent from home in a sort of Africa at the age of eleven to study at a boarding school several thousand miles away in a colder damper place. A couple of brief visits Home aside, she'd never really left the city with the odd name, Ankh-Morpork. Johanna had started as one of her teachers, but they'd begun building a deeper understanding even while Ruth was a student. After graduation they'd worked together on a few active missions, and had become friends.

"Hope you don't mind me being here." she said, with disarming modesty. "But it's winter at home. That means cold winds, grey skies, not enough sunlight and lots of lovely rain. When Johanna admitted to me she'd got an assignment to a really warm sunny place, I had to come and take a look."

"Ah-huh." Penny said, from somewhere behind and underneath Kaffee.

"One of us can find you a bed for the night, hon. I know you guys get dollars to pay your way. And we'd be glad to have you."

"Ooh, another shopping trip!" Bernadette squeaked, getting over her discomfort. She bounced up and down in her seat in excitement.

"Yeah!" Penny said, as Kaffee slipped off her lap, now aware of the third person in the room, the one he hadn't really investigated yet. "We had fun with Johanna, getting her properly dressed for Pasadena. You'll need clothes too, hon…"

Kaffee bounded up at Bernadette, lifting his forepaws to her shoulders. She stood up, trying to evade, but ended up in a sort of waltz with a big heavy dog that was on his hindlegs trying to lick her face. Ruth and Penny noted that the dog was a lot taller than she was.

"Hey! Get DOWN, wouldyya.." Bernadette squealed, as a big canine tongue knocked her glasses askew. Penny looked at Ruth.

"Here it comes…" she said, recognising the signs. "Better duck, Ruth."

Bernadette's back straightened. Her shoulders squared. Her eyes narrowed. People who normally saw easy-going, eager to please and somewhat ditzy generally got shocked by this.

"YOU! GET DOWN! NOW!" Bernadette said. Or rather shouted. "WHEN I SAY GET DOWN, BUSTER, I AIN'T SAYIN' IT FOR THE EXERCISE! SIT!"

Kaffee whined a little, but backed off. Bernadette, still tiny next to the dog, placed a hand on his rump and pushed down, maintaining eye contact throughout. Kaffee sat, tongue lolling out, and became very docile and submissive. Straightening her glasses, Bernadette became her usual happy smiling self.

"Now see how it is when we do as we're told, hon?" she scratched Kaffee behind the ear and petted him. His tongue lolled out and he panted.

"Impressive." Ruth said.

"Hey, when she gets mad, Bernie's gotta voice like a dog whistle." Penny shrugged. "Must do something to their ears, huh?"

"Clothes?" Ruth prompted. She recalled the local clothing Johanna had been wearing when she returned to the Disc. So much bared skin would have caused a public indecency action in Ankh-Morpork. But Ruth was used to dressing minimally when at home in Howondaland. It had just looked indecent by Central Continent standards of dress and decorum. She winced. On the veldt among her tribe, female dress, at least for unmarried girls, was a headdress, a loincloth or minimal skirt, anklets and bracelets, and not much else. I'm going native, she thought. Spent too much time among primitive uncivilized white people. And she had to admit Johanna had looked really good in the native clothes. As did Penny. And Bernadette, although she was wearing more figure-concealing layers.

"Yeah. Took Johanna on a shopping trip. It was cool. Some assholes tried to rob Bernie at an ATM. Dealt with that."

Ruth heard the story. Yes. Unlicenced Thieves pushing their luck. They met an Assassin who took them down, although non-lethally, as Guild members were required to do if they weren't in a life and death situation. She'd been trained, mainly by Johanna, to do much the same herself.

"HEX sorted out loadsa dollars for Johanna and Ponder. As spending cash." Penny prompted.

"And a VISA card." Bernadette added.

"Well, I haven't had mine yet." Ruth replied. "How many dollars?"

"Five thousand." Penny said. Ruth made a little back-of-the-throat noise.

"Err.. Johanna did say five thousand dollars here ain't the same as five thousand of your dollars." Bernadette said, hurriedly. "Ponder worked out the exchange rate is that one of your dollars at home is worth maybe a hundred of ours. Different economies, huh?"

Ruth knocked off two noughts. But fifty Ankh-Morpork dollars is still two months' pay for a skilled worker. Take a Watchman, for instance, that's about… six weeks' pay. And you can live perfectly well on that. Buy everything you need. I'm on twenty-six a month as a teaching assistant. Two months' pay, roughly. If that's the agreed pay rate for this job… $AM50 converted into the local currency…

"And they both got papers. Documents, Identities." Penny added.

"And VISA cards." Bernadette reminded them.

Ruth considered. Identity papers made sense. Something to show if government agencies looked your way and showed an interest. But what was a VISA card?

"HEX." Ruth said. "Can you hear me?"

++I hear you, Ruth.++

The voice spoke from Penny's laptop. Everyone jumped. The dogs stirred, uneasily.

"Mr HEX? I consider I need identity papers and documents. And the expense money to enable me to survive on this world. And a VISA card, whatever that is. Penny and Bernadette appear to think owning one is important."

"Sure is!" Penny said, happily. Bernadette nodded. A friend with a VISA card that had an extremely high credit limit – if it had a limit at all – was not a friend you made every day. Friends like that were worth making.

++Very well, then.++ the computer said, contriving to hint that he was being put upon and taken for granted. ++You will remain Ruth Sisowayo N'Kweze for convenience. ++ You are an exchange student from the Kwa'Zulu-Natal province of the Republic of South Africa. ++ Your early life was spent at upmarket boarding schools in England. ++ You obtained your first degree in Zoology at the University of Kwa-Zulu Natal in Pietermauritzberg. ++ Abbreviated to UKZN. ++You are now beginning a postgraduate course at Caltech, Pasadena.++I will prepare documentation for you.++This will take a little time to assemble.++ It will be delivered when ready.++

"And the cash? And the VISA card?" Bernadette prompted.

++Arrangements will be made.++ HEX repeated. ++Minor economic readjustments need to be performed to systems in the United States.++ I have already explained this to Ponder Stibbons and he is reassured nothing unethical is happening.++ Stand by.++

"HEX, sweetie?" Penny called.

++You have a request for me, Penny?++

The thinking machine's voice remained level and unemotional. But something in the atmosphere said HEX was favourably disposed towards Penny and prepared to do her favours over and above the call of duty. Gotta be male, then, Bernadette thought.

"I don't know if you know, I guess you do, but these two big guys here. California's got laws on dogs. They need papers too, HEX. Or they're impounded."

++I will get on with that as a matter of priority, Penny.++Thank you for bringing it to my attention.++

Ruth wasn't too surprised when about ten minutes later, a stack of papers materialised on the table. Two glittering metallic badges popped into existence with a tinkle. But there was a distinct lack of passport, ID papers, an envelope containing five thousand US dollars, and a VISA card, whatever one of those was.

++Veterinarian certification of health. ++Dog licences certified by the local authorities in Pasadena, valid anywhere in the State of California. ++Proof of rabies vaccinations. ++Paperwork from the Republic of South Africa and the United States Department of Health Services and Center for Disease Control at Los Angeles International Airport, to certify these animals were freighted in on South African Airways to join their named owner here, and given a veterinarian inspection before being allowed to enter the USA. ++Pedigree certification to identify them as pure-bred Rhodesian Ridgebacks, to satisfy the needs of the American Kennel Club's registry.++ Additional certification to certify vaccination against screw-worm, which is mandated for canine import from South Africa. ++Two individually unique licence tags to attach to their collars. ++And before you ask, Ruth, I am still dealing with your request.++(1)

Ruth sighed. Then there was a knocking at the door. Penny went to answer.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna had enlisted Leonard and Howard to drive her to the nearest open supermarket. The guys weren't too surprised when she found her way to the pet food and pet produce section. She scrutinised tins and packets for a whole before making a selection. A big selection. Leonard, designated driver for the shopping cart, winced at the weight that was building up. Six large cases of tinned dog chow. Two large sacks of dry dog food. Almost as an afterthought, feeding bowls – big ones – one each for food and water. And a wipe-clean mat to put under them. "Some of those clever chewing sticks. I cen see how they would work to promote dentel health."

They moved on, Howard taking spells at the cart.

"Enything you need for the epertment, Leonard?" Johanna asked. "For you or for Penny? Put it in the cert. I will pey. You too, Howard."

A selection of routine groceries were added, along with a couple of bottles of the sort of wine Penny and Bernadette liked. Johanna did not begrudge this. The boys added a selection of beers. She did not begrudge this either and chose a few for herself. She noticed, with interest, they had a good stock of foreign beers and chose Hansa Pilsener and Amstel lager, which were South African brands. She hoped they would have a taste of Home. (2)

Finally, they rolled through the check-out, Howard and Leonard doing the physical lifting and carrying of things to the scanner and reloading the cart afterwards to run everything to the car. She smiled. It was nice to have help with the groceries.

"How many dogs do you own, ma'am?" the check-out girl asked.

"Only two." Johanna said, offering her VISA card. The girl looked disbelievingly at the mountain of dog-food.

"Just two." Leonard confirmed.

"But they got big appetites." Howard said. "You could put saddles on those guys and ride them in rodeo."

"Ridgebecks." Johanna said. "Big dogs. Requiring much food end much exercise."

"Come up to here." Howard clarified, holding his hand flat at about waist-level. The check-out girl whistled.

Leonard rolled the cart out to the car, his back muscles protesting. The horrible thought hit him that they now had to load the car. Then unload it. Then get everything up the stairs. Four flights. He winced.

"Hey, we got beer and snacks." Howard said. "For after."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder was sitting on his own in the other apartment, keeping an eye on Lucy, who was still deeply asleep and seemed untroubled. He was reading one of The Books of Magic, an interesting graphic novel series that seemed to jump a lot between seemingly unrelated scenes and plots, but which appeared to centre on a Harry Potter-like English adolescent who was learning how to handle an unprecedented magical destiny. It was reading like Harry Potter for older people, with more violence, death, destruction and dark adult themes. Even the central character looked like Potter. And by extension, me. Ponder reflected.

And its use of magic was more familiar to Ponder Stibbons. The darker side, emphasising this was not something you played at, with consequences, both subtle and unsubtle, if you got it wrong. He was also captivated by a character who dropped in and out of the series known only as The Thessalian, who at first glance was a prettily nerdish girl of about twenty with long red hair and big glasses. She seemed unthreatening. Until…

He sighed. Amy was sitting with Sheldon in his room. She had seemed excited at the prospect, as if it was a rare treat for her. Ponder wondered what sort of relationship they had, then pushed it out of his mind. Ruth had gone to the other apartment with Bernadette. Penny and Johanna had taken the dogs for a walk, then retreated to the other apartment with Ruth. Ponder surmised they were finding Roundworld clothing for her.

Then the girls had come back from dog-walking. Leonard and Howard had been persuaded to take Johanna out to pick up dog supplies from a late-opening store. Ponder had stayed. Somebody had to sit Lucy.

But something was pricking at his mind.

"HEX?" he asked.

++Yes, Ponder? ++

"Errr.. we arrived here with five thousand dollars each." he began, uncertainly. And we also got a creditcard. The VISA thing, with no upper limit. You're going to have to do much the same for Ruth now she's here?"

++Possibly.++ HEX said, non-comittally.

"Johanna's probably spent getting on for eight or nine thousand dollars on hers. All those weapons. The work on Penny's car. The clothes she's wearing. "

++Nine thousand two hundred and forty-six dollars and seventy-six cents in United States currency. I am keeping tally. ++ HEX confirmed.

"Okay. And I've spent possibly eight or nine hundred on various things. Although I did win a thousand, which puts me slightly ahead. Um."

He paused, and defaulted to slightly worried.

"HEX. Where is the money coming from?" he asked. "If the University is ultimately paying, I really don't want to be there when Mustrum Ridcully looks at the books."

It had occurred to Ponder that HEX might well be translating University assets into United States dollars through some conversion mechanism of his own, in order to finance the trip and leave no discrepancies behind that a good auditor might notice. At least, not on this world. A guiding principle of Discworld visits to the Roundworld was Leave no trace, no objective proof the planet was being visited from outside. But the money still had to come from somewhere, hadn't it? You couldn't just call it into existence from nothing, that's not the way economics works… Ponder paused, realising he didn't really know how economics worked. It was one of those things… it just happened, didn't it?

++I can assure you that no University finance is being misappropriated here.++ HEX replied. ++No embezzlement of University funds is involved.++

Ponder sighed with relief. Then the word-association that began with "economics" led him to the Royal Bank of Ankh-Morpork and Hubert Turvy, who was an economist. Unseen University had made him a honorary Professor in recognition of that and because of his work on…

"HEX. You're linked to the Glooper, aren't you? That's another thinking engine these days. Though not as advanced as you, obviously. The Fishingnet. What if Johanna thinks that nine thousand dollars she's spent is expenses money for this trip. But via the Glooper, it's actually ultimately coming out of her own account at the Royal Bank? And she'll go home and discover big withdrawals on her Royal Bank account, to the value of what she's spent here?"

Ponder shuddered. Johanna might want to reprogram HEX with her machete if that were the case. Or to input an Exothermic Alchemy device into his mainframe.

++I would not do that to Doctor Smith-Rhodes++ HEX said, hurriedly. ++At least, not without asking her permission first.++ No.++ I am using certain quirks of the United States banking system to my own purposes, so that after we leave there will be no anomalies, however minor, in the total sums of money apparently created, earned and spent in this nation.++ I will endeavour to explain in a way you will understand.++

HEX explained. To all practical purposes, a dollar had only one hundred sub-divisions, called cents in this country. But when a large bank calculated interest on a current account, its interest rates would be calculated to a lot of places after the decimal point, more than it really needed. The points after the decimal indicate real amounts of money, but diminishing by a hundredth part for every additional place after zero. If the interest rate stood at, say, 2.1567625089%, on a typical current account, the bank would round up the interest paid on every hundred dollars to $2.16. But this still meant a real, but infinitesimally small, sum of cash, let us say 0.0007635089%, seven ten-thousandths of a cent, was still there in the system. Nothing on one account. But if it was, for example, the Bank of America which had a hundred and twenty million individual personal accounts, all those thousandths of a cent still added up. Over several billion dollars in deposits. The banks had effectively discounted this money for accounting purposes. All he, HEX, needed to do was to persuade the banks' computer, at a very deep level, to tidy up its books by releasing a fraction of that accumulation of lost cash to him, so he could divert it to more useful purposes. Technically a crime, but one the banks would not notice unless they went really deep. And a victimless crime: the money had effectively been written off by the banks as irrelevant and was just lost in an accounting limbo. It had been created in the normal course of events by a healthy economy, and HEX was simply returning it to the same economy, without unbalancing or distorting it.

Ponder took a deep breath.

++It is a classic operation, Ponder.++ While the largest banks are becoming wise to this, they still have no idea how much this hidden asset sums to, and no way of knowing for certain if sophisticated systems are exploiting it.++ In banking parlance, it is called the salami, after a sausage. ++ Lots of very, very, thin slices add up to a whole sausage.++ You are effectively dining on sausage.++ There are other means, too, of exploiting loopholes in the system. ++I have those in reserve, in case my salami slicing is detected.++ (3)

Ponder sighed.

"Does Moist von Lipwig know about this?" he inquired.

++On the Discworld, he probably believes he invented it, Ponder.++ HEX said, with a hint of smug-ness. ++And as a wise man once said, across the universe a constant factor in banking is that the banks refuse to deal in fiddling little amounts of small change.++ Douglas Adams, I believe. ++
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna helped the guys manoeuvre the shopping upstairs from the car.

"You really need to get this elevator repaired." she said, straightening her back.

Leonard, breathing deeply, meekly agreed with her. He noticed she was carrying twice as much as he or Howard. Effortlessly.

And the cases of dog food and other miscellaneous shopping made their way upstairs. A fat middle-aged woman in a housecoat looked out of a third-floor door and asked, tetchily, what the noise was about at this time of night. A small dog, ugly but with a certain charm, scampered out after her. And, she asked, was it that yappy little dog belonging to the Indian guy that was making all the noise?

Johanna quickly made friends with the ugly but characterful little dog and asked his breed, whilst Leonard hastened to reassure Mrs Gunderson about the night's events. Apparently she lived directly below the guys. And had heard Kaffee and Crème's arrival.

"He's a Mexican Hairless." Mrs Gunderson said, a little more mollified. Johanna, petting the pleasant little dog, explained she was staying as a temporary guest of Penny in the apartment upstairs, and that she had brought her own dogs, and hoped they would not be a trial. She would ensure they kept the noise down.

Apparently Mrs Gunderson had not been pleased Raj didn't have the sense to realise his dog was in heat, and for a guy with college-smart and lots of it, he sure didn't have street-smart. She looked at the stack of dog-food. Johanna commiserated, saying she had also needed to have sharp words with Raj about bitches in heat being a disruption to all about them.

"Your dogs stayin' long?" the older woman asked. Her attitude suggested that it looked like they were gonna be here for months.

"Perheps a few days." Johanna said. "I em looking for enother home for them while I em in the United States. People I cen foster them to."

Which was the truth, in a way: they would return to the Discworld later, where from their perspective no time at all would elapse until Johanna was back. Besides, they were virtually the house-mascots: Raven House and its pupils adored them and clamoured to take them for walks and do the doggy things with them. They would not be neglected.

"Mrs Gunderson, by wey of epology, would you like to eccept a few cens of dog food for Manolito?" she asked. "There is enough end to spare here."

"Seems like you got your head screwed on around dogs." Mrs Gunderson remarked, accepting the peace offering. "Not like that Indian professor. Hey, this is quality make."

"Only the best for our dogs, Mrs Gunderson." Johanna said. "We might perhaps welk our dogs together. They are very friendly end well-behaved creatures."

That little hiccup over, they did the final flight to get the stuff upstairs.

"Good charm offensive there." Howard said. Leonard seemed relieved.

"You hev to be on good terms with your neighbours." Johanna said. "It eases many things end is good manners. I read her es retired, perheps, or on a low income. The gift of food for her dog seemed appropriate."

They found Ruth on her own in Penny's apartment, reading a Roundworld magazine, the dogs placid and peaceful at her feet.

Nobody else around?" Johanna asked, bringing in the first of the dogfood crates. Knowing what the tins meant, Kaffee and Crème leapt to investigate.

"The weird one came over. Amy. Apparently Sheldon wanted somebody to sing him a song. Can you believe it? Amy was a bit put out he wanted Penny to sing to him and not her. Bernadette went over with them. They said they were going to do the Soft Kitty song in three-part harmony and they'd tell me later. Hey, Johanna. This is Roundworld underwear? "

Ruth indicated the full-page advert in the magazine she was reading, her eyes narrowing in desire. A long-limbed, lissom, black-skinned model was displaying some very elegant white underwear. Johanna had to agree the contrast was extremely pleasant to the eye.

"I want some." she said, coveting. Johanna smiled.

"I'm wearing some." she said, happily. "Now let's feed some dogs."

"Before they eat us." Howard said, from behind her.

"Then we drink beer. Thenk you, boys. You hev been very helpful."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Took a bit of researching, for which the US Gov't's official website and Wikipedia were my friends. I didn't even know there was such a thing as screw-worm and that dogs entering the USA from South Africa must arrive with proof they'd been vaccinated against it. American Kennel Club registration is not mandatory but it helps, apparently, if you want to bring your dog with you. Great Britain is a most favoured nation, as our canine population gets a lot of waivers if it wishes to travel to the USA. Apparently the fact the British love and care for their dogs is known and respected.

(2) Johanna did drink wine, when socially mandated. But High Dinners at the Assassins' Guild usually saw her order a good strong beer for preference. She liked dinners at the University, where this quirk did not raise eyebrows.

(3) Salami-slicing has indeed been used as a means of quietly and inobtrusively robbing banks. As the banks tended to disregard everything after the second decimal point for accounting purposes, it could go unremarked and un-noticed for a long time as it simply didn't show in the accounts. The practical difficulty was accumulating enough of those tiny fractional cash amounts together in sufficient numbers to make it worthwhile - although with the computing power of HEX, it could be done with ease over several hundred thousand, even million, accounts. Although in 2015, advanced computer systems appear, from what I've read, to be eliminating this loophole, alas. The quote from Douglas Adams is of course from the Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, in the book's discourse on galactic banking.

Chapter 25: The graduate student heirarchy

Wheeler-Bell Twenty-Five

The Grad Student Hierarchy

In which Ruth realises this isn't completely a holiday she's wrestled from the boss-lady, and she has to do some work to justify her presence,

Slight revision to address style inconsistency noticed by reader mathmannix - thanks!

Ruth spent a comfortable night bedded down on the sofa in Penny's apartment. Two big friendly dogs slept with her, appreciating the comfort and security of a friendly human who'd known them since puppyhood. Well, for most of the time they slept. Leonard had woken up to the uncomfortable sensation of a third person in the bed with himself and Penny. The sensation of a huge body rolling on top of him and a large tongue licking his face had been enough to wake him in alarm. Hell, I know Penny does things like this, but usually her breath's sweeter and her tongue ain't so big…

She had laughed and petted the dog indulgently, Knowing he would get no help there, Leonard had sighed and made the most of it. But after a while, she had called for Ruth and asked if she could get Kaffee to sleep in the other room? I don't mind, hon, I could get used to it, but Leonard's got allergies. I don't know if he's got one for dog hair. Better be sure, huh?

Leonard had wished he didn't wear glasses. Ruth had been dressed in borrowed skimpy shorts and a sleeping vest of some sort. In white, on a girl with black skin who was around five-nine or five-ten tall, the shape and outline he had been able to distinguish had been…. wow….

And in the morning, everyone congregated in apartment 4a for breakfast. Penny had gotten up earlier than usual to help give the dogs a morning walk and do the basic grooming and feeding tasks. Mrs Gunderson from downstairs had been setting out to walk her little Manolito, the Mexican Hairless, and had yelped something about Sweet motherloving Jesus Christ!" at the sight of two huge dogs galloping downstairs, seemingly unescorted. Manolito had whimpered apprehensively, but had soon cottoned on to the two new guys being friendly and had joined in with the sniffing and smelling canine etiquette. Johanna and Penny were holding on to the other end of the leashes, and soon the three dogs were taking the morning air themselves.

"He's keepin' up." Penny remarked, watching Manolito, who seemed to be taking four or five steps to every one taken by the big dogs.

"Ja. We should take Cinnamon with us. On a proper walk. On her own paws. Lose thet stupid verdemmte dumbkop perembulator."
Johanna said.

"The word for which you are possibly searching, sweetie, is verkakte." Penny said, cheerfully. Johanna spluttered with amusement and looked across to Mrs Gunderson.

"I didn't realise you spoke Von… Afrikaans, Penny."

"I didn't realise I did, either." Penny replied. "That's Yiddish, hon. Howard's mom talks it. Jewish language. Bernadette's a fast learner. Used it to describe the baby-stroller."

"She is right, too!" Johanna said. "Probebly literelly, if Rajesh confines her to the thing, when she needs to get out end do whet every dog must."(1)

Penny grimaced slightly. She had explained about the need for plastic bags and scoopers. Else you could get fined. Both had come equipped, with a separate bag to stash the well-wrapped downside of dog ownership for disposal later. Mrs Gunderson, wheezing slightly to keep up with the younger women, had nodded and said "That's about right. That Indian boy ain't got no sense. Keeps his dog in a baby-stroller. Dogs need walkin'. No wonder that little gal's cranky!"

"I hope to do something ebout this, Mrs Gunderson." Johanna reassured her. Their neighbour smiled slightly.

"Yeah. I'm sure you could. Bein' a professor of zoo animals and everythin'. You seem a hellovalot more regular than those brainiacs upstairs!"

"Ja." she replied, pausing as Crème squatted over a gutter. She sighed, and readied an old supermarket carrier bag, steeling herself. This was not something dog-owners in Ankh-Morpork needed to concern themselves with.(2) "Earning my ecedemic credentials with large enimels. It keeps you down to earth. In so meny ways. There is no room for ebstrection."

Sheldon Cooper had recovered enough to get up for breakfast. He fixed Johanna with a baleful glare and said

"You have now formally received your first strike, Doctor Smith-Rhodes. I believe you are aware of the reasons."

"Yes, Doctor Cooper." she said, bowing her head. It looked submissive, but she was doing it partly to conceal a smile.

"Oh, sweetie!" Penny exclaimed. "Why did it take you so long? You've been here nearly two weeks!"

"Yeah." Leonard Hofstadter remarked, extending a hand, "Nobody's properly part of the gang till they've taken a strike from Sheldon!"

Johanna took it, smiling.

The dogs were placidly sleeping off the early walk and a big breakfast in Penny's apartment. She knew they could be trusted on their own.

Ruth, dressed in borrowed clothes, joined them. A long wraparound skirt that would have been mid-calf on Penny barely came to her knees. A borrowed top was similarly tight. She was barefoot. None of the girls shared her shoe-size.

"Takin' her shoppin' later." Penny said. "Bernie's got a morning off and I'm not needed till mid-afternoon."

Johanna nodded. "You may need dollars, I think. I still have a large part of my originel cesh available."

"How much?" Penny asked, practically. Johanna considered this. Her own shopping trip for clothes and accessories had cost…

"I will loan Ruth two thousand dollars." she said, firmly.

"Loan. Right. Noted." Ruth said.

"End do not forget es Bernadette end Penny are very kindly helping choose clothes to ensure you blend into this Celifornia, you are expected to thenk them in the eppropriete way." Johanna added, even more firmly. "Noblesse oblige."

Penny grinned happily.

"Shoes first, I think, hon." she said. "You can't go out in bare feet, and those boots you were wearing don't go with the skirt. Gotta get you into better."

There was a popping noise in the air. Everyone turned from breakfast to look. A large brown envelope had dropped into existence on the front seat of the Travelling Engine. Leonard went to fetch it.

"Addressed to Miss R.S. N'Kweze, ." he said. "Guess that's you, huh?"

He handed it to Ruth. She turned it over and opened it, turning the contents out on the table. They included a South African passport and a VISA card.

"No actual cash, Mr HEX?" she asked, shaking out the envelope.

++You are to read and assimilate the briefing notes first.++ HEX said, dispassionately. ++Then when you are fluent in your new identity, I will release cash assets to you. ++I will then also activate your VISA card. ++ Which is currently inert.++

"Looks like you gotta test, hon." Penny remarked. "A girl's gotta earn her cash, huh?"

"Looks like it." Ruth said, sighing.

++Doctor Smith-Rhodes could act as your examiner.++ HEX suggested. ++She did, after all, get you through seven years at school, so this should be nothing new for either of you.++

Ruth read as she ate, taking her time.

"Status of black people in the United States." She read. Her face hardened.

"Slavery. I see. Then segregation. Informal apartheid. Jim Crow laws. Ah, I see it got better for us after about 1965."

The native Californians looked away, embarrassed.

"Mr HEX. This part is printed in red and double-underlined. Do not go armed in California. Do not provoke the Los Angeles Police Department in any way. Can I take it as read they do not like black people very much…"

She read on. Silently.

"Ah. Thank you for the story concerning what happened to Mr Rodney King, Mr HEX. And to others of my appearance. Most informative. I can see it will be advisable to maintain a low profile here."

"They're not all bad, hon." Penny said, swiftly. Then, as she was honest, she added "Well, just enough of them are assholes. But after the Rodney King thing and the riots, they're bein' more careful now."

++You are also a citizen of a different country, Ruth.++ In case of difficulties the South African consulate can be invited to step in. ++ And behind them is an Embassy which in this time insists on correct treatment of all its people who are resident in the United States. ++ The local police are wary in these circumstances.++

"And that's another thing, Mr Hex." Ruth said. "I'm South African? And not a Zulu? But if there's a country called South Africa here, there should also be an independent Zulu Empire?"

++Read the relevant notes, Miss N'Kweze.++

"Political History of Southern Africa 1600 – 2010, a summation." Ruth read. "The Nguni, the People of Heaven, are thought to have migrated south – that's Hubwards, right? – in Africa in the tenth and eleventh centuries. The confederation of tribes which were either subjugated in war by, or chose to ally themselves with the Zulu peoples, were first encountered by white settlers in Southern Africa in the early 1700's. Straight away there was conflict. Yes, I can buy that." Ruth looked across at Johanna. Johanna nodded.

"Proceed, Miss N'Kweze." she said, as if in a classroom.

"The Paramount King Dingiswayo first declared a Zulu Empire, the Methethwa, in the European year 1818. His son Shaka Khan expanded the Empire and for a long time it was strong enough to hold its own against the white colony states encroaching on it. But in 1878 Great Britain, then the world's superpower, delivered ultimatums to the Paramount King Ceteshwayo. Johanna, all these guys were Paramount Kings on our world too! These ultimata precipitated a war. In the opening battles British pride was severely humiliated at the battle of Isandlhwana…" Ruth looked surprised again. "Where under the inept leadership of Lord Chelmsford, a British army of several thousand men was utterly destroyed and its supplies and provisions taken…" Ruth suddenly exulted with a high, loud ululation of victory. Everyone winced. Zulu ululation in a confined space was penetrating.

"Followed by the attack on… Rorke's Drift? Is that what they called it on this world? And then by a two-year war of attrition resulting in a last desperate defence of the Royal Kraal at Ulundhi… oh…"

Ruth's face fell. Johanna reached out and patted her, kindly, on the shoulder.

"It gets better in the next hundred years." Johanna reassured her. "You'll see."

"The Zulu Empire ceased to exist as an independent entity and was absorbed piecemeal into the Republic of South Africa. Its people endured colonial rule by whites and then the indignity of apartheid. But then in the year of 1994…" Ruth read on and then grinned.

"Whoo, in your FACE, Johanna Smith-Rhodes!" she said, exultantly.

"I'll let her hev thet one." Johanna said, evenly. "In the circumstences."

"In 2010, the current President of the Republic of South Africa, Jacob Zuma, is a Zulu, as are several cabinet members, and Zulus are the best-represented ethnicity in government. Hey, in this world we get to rule over the whites!" Ruth ululated again.

"Ja, you won." Johanna agreed. "But no war-dance, you hear? Not above Mrs Gunderson's epartment."

"Yes, baas-lady." Ruth said, with seeming submission. Everybody looked at Johanna.

"She calls me thet." she said, shrugging. "Never been able to stop her. I suspect she means it ironicelly."

The third briefing document was read by HEX.

++You are an overseas exchange student at Caltech.++You are engaged in post-graduate research and are writing a Master's thesis in animal management.++ The responsible academic mentor who will direct, guide, and no doubt criticise the quality of your work, will be a Doctor J.F. Smith-Rhodes.++Bachelor of Science. Master's degree, implied.++And PhD.++

Ruth suddenly looked very alarmed. Johanna smiled at her in a way that said comments such as "In your face, Johanna Smith-Rhodes!" might be remembered later as part of the mentor-pupil relationship.

++If you accept these conditions, I will be happy to release operating finance to you. ++

Ruth sighed.

"I so accept, Mr HEX."

++Look upon this as a bursary or a student grant. ++ HEX advised her, as a stack of neatly bundled green bills suddenly appeared on the table. ++It can be withdrawn if your academic progress is not satisfactory. ++

"Wow…." Penny said, in deep and hypnotised appreciation. "Sheldon, hon, you better get movin' on this science stuff. You're way behind here! HEX, this is down to all that quantum stuff Leonard and Sheldon are into, right?"

++Hold that thought, Penny. ++I can control quantum probability and manifestation, yes. ++If quantified more rigorously, it is a valid description of my ability to move and manifest physical constructs, certainly. ++

"Get quantifyin', Leonard." Penny directed him, still fixated on the cash. "Help him, Sheldon."

Sheldon sniffed disdainfully.

"Yet again, Penny, you confuse the dispassionate pursuit of scientific knowledge in its own right, with baser notions of personal ease and financial wealth."

"Yeah, sweetie. You get the scientific knowledge, and I'll take the wealth, how's that?"

And later on that day, dressed casually for Roundworld, Ruth arrived at Caltech for her induction as a post-graduate. After asking around, she found the appropriate department, where the motherly departmental secretary, a pleasant older lady called Diana, registered her and explained where to go for an informal group briefing from Human Resources. Still buoyed up after a delightful morning shopping with Bernadette and Penny and relishing the feel of Roundworld clothing, she happily went as directed.

A small classroom was filling with perhaps twenty or so new postgrad students. Mutual introductions ascertained that only a few were native American citizens, and most were from outside the USA. They represented a broad range of scientific and academic disciplines, from the English girl here to pursue a Masters thesis in Film and Television Studies, to the serious-looking Korean here for computer engineering.

Ruth kept silent, rather than allowed relative ignorance to show. The confident and assertive English girl was being asked, incredulously, how the Hell she got to do a college course in Hollywood movies. The questioner was showing a mix of incredulous disbelief and backhanded respect due to somebody who proposed to blow a year's research bursary by going to the cinema - and who could still get a higher degree at the end.

The girl grinned.

"My parent uni in England taught my first degree in Film and Television Studies." she said, modestly. "When I got through that with a First and I could pick my own post-grad choice, I thought – why not come to California. Hollywood. Burbank. Major TV studios. I wrote a proposal. Social semiotics of mass-market socio-emotional representations of real life. The "panem et circences" of the early twenty-first century."

There was a pause while people worked this out.

"In other words, you get to watch movies and TV for a year." somebody said. There was a whistle of appreciation.

"Once I'd got the funding, I suggested the best place to be was one of the world's largest and most concentrated centres of film and TV production." she said. "Which got me to Los Angeles. Voila!" (3)

There was a spontaneous round of applause. Even a standing ovation. Jessica, the English girl, accepted it modestly.

Ruth listened, appreciatively, reflecting that she needed to know more about TV – Johanna had off-handedly said it was this world's version of Moving Pictures, only better. And immeasurably more advanced. She kept her own self-introduction low-key, elaborating it with what she judged was a safe tale to tell, of her experience working at the City Zoo. Gauging the mood of her audience, it involved elephants and excreta, which she said was a natural hazard of large animal work. The bandage on her hand, which Ruth off-handedly said was down to a run-in with a fairly nasty wild animal, helped earn respect.

Amid much hilarity, Ms Janine Davis of Human Resources walked in. Ruth registered a competent professional woman who merited respect.

"Well, I can see you've all broken the ice." she said, approvingly. She introduced herself and said "I don't normally take this seminar. I'm more used to dealing with people higher up the academic hierarchy on a one-to-one basis. Inducting new postgraduates on a group basis, as there tend to be so many more of you, is held to be more efficient in terms of time and money. And I like to think that some of you will go on to become doctors and professors, and in the fullness of time will manifest all the little character quirks I have confidently come to expect from people with higher degrees. It's good to do this, and to see if I can spot the warning signs early. Now let me take a roll here…"

The rest was routine. Expectations of new students, the code of conduct, a recommendation that those from outside the USA take the course in the United States for Overseas Students, issuing of student handbooks, a discussion of the big "NO!'s" of college life at Caltech, location of canteens and cafeterias, support faculties for students, legal advice may be available if necessary, the need to get on the books of doctor and dentist as soon as possible, health insurance, whether a driving licence from your native country is accepted in the USA, see Department of Motor Licencing for details, and may your time at Caltech be a happy one. Miss N'Kweze, please could you hold back a few minutes after everyone else leaves? Nothing to worry about, I would appreciate a private word. Thank you.

Janine Davis waited for all the others to leave. She appraised Ruth for a few moments and said

"You're South African? Ah-huh. Zoology. The reason I held you back, hon, is because a week or two back I had cause to interview a new hire. From your point of view, the other sort of South African. I'm not prejudicing any professional contact you'll have with her, but it says here that Doctor J.F. Smith-Rhodes is going to be your tutor and moderator of your postgraduate thesis."

"Doctor Johanna Smith-Rhodes?" Ruth said. "I believe I have met her. Back home." she said, with complete honesty. "What can I say? She's..." Ruth thought for a minute, then smiled. It was a happy smile. "She's as subtle as a housebrick and she's a Boor. The Boors can be hard work. But her heart's in the right place."

"That's good. It's just that she came over to me as being not too much with the program in her dealings with black-skinned people. A Boer, as you say. Could be she's not entirely lost a lot of the old attitudes."

Ruth laughed.

"Oh, I know that!" she said. "A lot of white people are okay. They genuinely want to, you know, be accommodating and start over with us. But they mess it up sometimes out of… well, trying too hard, I suppose. More being awkward and not having too much experience. And I've met the other sort, Ms Davies. You know when they're being racist out of intent and not out of awkwardness."

"I don't doubt you." Ms Davis said. "And I don't doubt Doctor Smith-Rhodes too much. But if, you know, anything happened and you felt a need to complain. It's what we're here for. And I gotta keep an eye out for these things and resolve them informally if I can, before it gets to a complaint. Come see me if you need to. Oh, and this address you're temporarily resident at - and I hope it's only temporary - it looks kinda familiar? "

Johanna, meanwhile, had prevailed on Howard and Leonard to get a second desk in her office and rig up the usual offices of PC and printer.

Her reasoning was that she could keep a supervisory eye on Ruth by distinguishing her with the title of "graduate assistant", exploiting the privacy of a shared office to get her filled in on the local details. If she ever needed to do anything private, like mentoring students, Ruth could be told to go somewhere else for an hour or so. She might also be prevailed upon to put in a little work for Johanna, too. She thanked the guys politely for their assistance, and set about her own routine work. This involved sharing emails with Amy and Bernadette.

Bernadette_Rostenkowski_Wolowitz © zangen . com

To: JF_Smith_Rhodes © calnet . edu

Hi Johanna

The key drugs are Delvosteron, usually given as a 100mg injection, or Megestrol Acetate, which can be delivered by pessary or in pill form (I'd prefer pills!) This company makes both. Zangen also formulate veterinarian anesthetics. Give me an hour or so to talk to the right people!

Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz. © zangen . com

Amy_Farrah_Fowler © calnet . edu

To: JF_Smith_Rhodes © calnet . edu

Hi Bezzie!

If two of us are both capable of performing the operation and Bernadette can act as anaesthetist, then all it needs is somebody to hold Raj down or preferably anaesthetize him. What do you think?

A F-F

JF_Smith_Rhodes © calnet . edu

To: Bernadette_Rostenkowski_Wolowitz © zangen . com

Cc; Amy_Farrah_Fowler © calnet . edu

Bernadtete:

Thank you! all that Remains now is to isolate Cinnnamon at a time and place convenient for all of us AND TO PREFROM THE NECESSary procedure. She will be a better and more well- adjusted dgo for it. Rajesh still requires covnincing. I would prefer it if he saw the correctness of the proposed action and consneted of his own free will. Do you have opinions on this? You have both known him fro lon ger. (4)

JF S_R

Johanna exhaled. She was getting better at typing but the result still looked a mess. There was a knock at the door. It turned out to be Ruth, looking well-dressed and very presentable.

"You get thet desk." Johanna said, directing her. "HEX is present. He can explain to you what the computer does end how to use it. Run up a sign with your name on it end the title "Greduate Essistent." Then pin it to the door underneath my name."

Ruth appreciated that mere lowly postgraduates never got offices of their own, even shared ones. They were too low in the hierarchy for that, unless they were taken on as a senior academic's unpaid assistants. But there'd be a sting in the tail. She looked forward to breaking it to Johanna that Ms Davis from HR was taking a personal interest in her interactions with black-skinned students. You know, just in case you get all Boor on us.

"Got a tesk for you." Johanna said. "It cen wait until efter you've made tea. Eny of the people on this corridor cen tell you where the kettle and cups and things are to be found."

"Ja, baas-lady." Ruth said, with seeming submission. Johanna frowned, then smiled. Some things never changed, regardless of what planet you were on.

Ruth found tea-making facilities in Leonard's office. He helped her get a brew together and she appreciated the simplicity and speed of the electric kettle.

"So, er, you'll be a house-guest at Howard and Bernie's?" Leonard asked, politely.

"Until I get somewhere else." Ruth said. "I like Penny, but her place is too small. Only one bedroom. And, er, you stay there too. You really don't need me twenty feet away on the couch."

"And those two dogs." Leonard mused. "Nice guys, but till you get to know them better they can be sortta intimidating."

"They wouldn't hurt a fly." Ruth assured him. She thought for a second. "Too small. Unless the fly landed on their teeth, or they got lucky and trod on one. You know they were bred originally to take on lions and leopards?"

Leonard pondered this. Then shuddered.

"Chase cats a lot, do they?"

"Until a big street-tom turned round and smacked Kaffee in the nose with a paw-ful of claws." Ruth said. "They don't do little cats, shall we say. Not now. I guess if anyone threatened Johanna. They'd go native very quickly. Until then, they're nice guys. Did I tell you Johanna's people also had the charming habit of training them as guard-dogs, to go for black people? She got round that one by having me be with them since they were puppies, so they grew up just seeing people. But I default to believing any Ridgeback I cannot personally vouch for is not going to be pleasantly disposed towards me. They're not all big lolloping friendly things."

"Ummm." Leonard said, not entirely at home with the fact he'd shared a bed for part of the night with an attack-trained killer dog as big as he was. He changed the subject.

"You're okay with staying at Howard's?"

"Bernadette suggested it." Ruth said. She lifted her bandaged hand. "She felt bad I was bitten by somebody else's dog within five minutes of arriving. You know, I've never had a problem with the Ridgebacks? But the first dog that manages to get me is a yappy little thing that only comes up to my ankle? Just goes to show, doesn't it. And she said I needed to show Caltech a permanent address. For their files. So I might as well use hers. Funny thing is, Leonard, that woman from your aitch-are department. Mizz Davis. Very clever, very capable lady. She recognised it was Howard's address. She asked about that. Does she memorise everyone's details?"

"Errr… only the interesting ones." Leonard assured her. "She kinda gets to talk to Howard a lot. It's ongoing."

"Yes. She said."

Johanna sipped her tea and they reflected on events thus far. HEX chimed in with occasional points of information. He explained the colloquial meaning of the term "brown sugar" to Ruth, who breathed hard and looked stern for a moment.

"I see. So it's not just something you put in your tea, then."

"Howard will need firm hendling." Johanna said, quickly. "But overall he is pleasant, friendly end well-disposed. He just lets himself down with stupid things. He is perhaps uneware of the origins of the phrase, end he sees it es a sort of compliment to ettrective women with derker skins."

HEX started to play some music with rocks in. The singer had a harshly compelling, but raw, voice.

Drums beating, cold English blood runs hot,
Lady of the house wonderin' where it's gonna stop,
House boy knows that he's doing alright,
You shoulda heard him just around midnight!

Brown sugar! How come you taste so good, now?
Brown sugar! Just like a young girl should…(5)

Ruth breathed hard.

"I could perhaps remind Howard a better word for me might be "black treacle"." she said. "It comes out of the ground in hard thick rock-like slabs, and it can seriously hurt people if it drops on them." (6)

"Good stretegy." Johanna said. "Elso to politely, but firmly, say thet to you the term is not a compliment, es it comes from the days when bleck women were slaves end viewed es property to be used. I would elso suggest you speak to Penny ebout how she deals with Howard. He no longer uses terms to her thet she finds offensive end derogetory. She said he genuinely believed he was complimenting her, end he hed no idea."

Johanna winced slightly and remembered to add another of those 101 things these Roundworld visitors must not do on the Discworld. She phrased it in her mind.

(#47) Howard. Must not call any black-skinned Howondalandian woman, however attractive he finds her, "Brown Sugar". And certainly not the Paramount Crown Princess of the Zulu Empire. Who is also a fully trained Assassin.

"Just restrain yourself from demeging him." she advised Ruth.

"I know." Ruth said. "Bernadette. I do like her."

Johanna nodded.

"So do I." she said. "End Howard is a nice pleasant fellow, et heart. But he will require warning. Frequently."

They moved on.

"Ruth, I wish you to research for me. This is a description of the creature Lucy turned into when we visited Enkh-Morpork. I'm eware you only glimpsed her briefly in her enimel form. I em puzzled es to why there eppeared to be be no clear link between her being native, es a human, to this part of North Emerica. But the cervine creature she turned into eppeared to me to be one native to this world's Efrica. It is possible thet while I wes paying ettention to where her long sherp horns were pointing, I misidentified the species. So cen you look into the possibilities end the elternetives for me? Please errive et a shortlist of probable cendidetes. Thenk you. HEX will show you how to eccess the Internet."

Howard, meanwhile, was sitting with Sheldon, Leonard and Raj over coffee. He was blissfully oblivious as to how near he'd come to experiencing hideous pain and discomfort. In fact, Ruth was a topic for discussion.

"She helped with the emergency with Lucy." Leonard said. "So Johanna had to let her in on the secret and bring her over. She seems alright, though. Nice girl. Didn't get too angry when Cinnamon bit her. Made a mess of her hand, though."

"Yeah. Real nice girl." Howard said, dreamily. "Part Halle Berry. Part Pam Grier."

"Although perhaps not as physically imposing as Pam Grier." Sheldon said.

"Does she need to be? Figure like that…" Raj mused.

"Hey. Halle Berry. Reckon we could get her to cosplay Storm?" Howard suggested. "Another win for the team next Cosplay night. More bragging rights!"

Sheldon snorted.

"Really. We encounter people from…" he lowered his voice, carefully. "…another world. And our first action is to get them to cosplay comic characters?"

"Can't think of anything better." Raj said.

"Not when they look like Johanna and Ruth." Howard added.

"Assuming Ruth can be persuaded to play Ororo Monroe." Sheldon objected.

"See if Ponder can lead her into it." Leonard suggested. "Introduce her to the idea. Shame he's takin' a class right now."

"He'll learn." Howard said. "New guy always gets the work."

He took a long leisured swig of his coffee.

"Talked to Amy today?" Leonard asked Sheldon, who shrugged.

"I understand she saw Lucy to her apartment earlier and ensured there were no ill-effects."

"Yeah." Leonard mused. "You weren't there when she woke up? Holy crap, for a gal that size, she ate some cereal! Four bowls, with milk, and then toast, lots of toast, like you would not believe!"

"According to Professor Ponder Stibbons, the were-creature transformation uses a great deal of energy." Sheldon remarked. "It needs to be replenished. And the first time it happens is apparently a shock to the system. I hope to witness the transformation when I visit. It is deeply fascinating."

"How do you know you ain't got it yourself, Sheldon?" Howard asked. "You'd be a were…. meerkat, or something."

"Were-praying-mantis." Raj suggested.

Sheldon shook his head.

"The were-transformation in folklore only seems to cover human transformation into other mammals." he objected. "There may also be mass transference problems involved in a sixty-five kilogram human becoming an insect weighing only ten grammes. Where would the extra mass go to?"

"Ponder said there might be a solution to that." Leonard said. "And apparently wizards and witches can turn people into frogs. Which aren't mammals. Ponder said there's observational evidence as to what happens to the extra mass and volume." (7)

"But that is not a self-willed transformation typical of the were-creature state." Sheldon objected. "Rather it is an involuntary transition imposed from outside by a superior magical intelligence."

"Which Ponder said is often only temporary and wears off after a few days, or else when the magic user responsible for the spell wanders off and loses interest." Leonard said, wondering why he instinctively knew all this to be true.

"So, er, who's visiting next?" Raj asked. He'd been offered a trip into space but had turned it down, preferring on that night to do his astronomy in the conventional Roundworld sense. Getting really up close and personal to the star-system of interest was something he'd found frankly scary.

"HEX was talking about sending me over with Ponder next. To visit his university." Leonard said. He felt both excited and apprehensive by this.

Sheldon grumphed. Leonard pushed on, regardless.

"Then Johanna takes Penny to see her city. She said to Penny to be sure to bring cheesecake."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Yiddish, of course, is a language which evolved mainly out of Middle German for the everyday non-religious use of European Jews. Middle German is closely related to Dutch – in fact, originally mutually intelligible. Dutch became parent of the Afrikaans dialect spoken in Southern Africa. Of course Johanna would realise the literal meaning of the word verkakte, denoting "useless", "tainted" or "crazy-unpleasant". She'd have heard it in its original literal sense as "besmirched and befouled with excrement". Only a shorter, sharper, one-syllable word for "excrement". It's the "poppycock" thing again…

(2) In fact, street people who provided an essential support service to the Guild of Tanners and Fullers tended to follow her dogs on walkies with buckets, spades and an expression of "Business is booming!" on their faces.

(3) Really true. A contemporary who graduated UEA Norwich's Film of TV and Cinema Studies with a first-class degree pulled this one. Admittedly her father was a long-standing BBC TV presenter, but the sheer chutzpah involved makes me suspect she'd have pulled it off if her father had been Fred Bloggs, plumber, and not… she went to UCLA, Berkely, btw. And now works in TV production. Some people are born with everything worked out for them and only need to give it the odd nudge at the right time…

(4) Johanna was getting a little better at typing on a PC keyboard. HEX would advise her as to where to find the spellchecker and to use it before sending.

(5) Half-listening to Mick Jagger's lyrics, as you do, you certainly get the impression "Brown Sugar" is about inter-racial sex late at night. But Google the lyrics and discover what sort of sex is involved. A clue: 1861 and the American Deep South. Quite shocking when you see it down on the page and realise what you've been trying to sing along with for years. Have a nice night, y'all.

(6) Treacle is indeed mined on the Discworld. A working mine has recently been reopened on, er, Treacle Mine Road, Ankh-Morpork. And Terry wasn't making it up when he said it's been known here too. It really is that strange.

(7) Refer to A Hat Full of Sky by Terry Pratchett for the observational evidence.

AAAARGH! You STILL can't even put FAKE email addresses into your stories... annoying!

Chapter 26: The Dominant Alpha Male Protocol

Wheeler-Bell Twenty-Six

The Alpha Male Protocol

This was a pig to write. It didn't help that with the TV on in the background, a rock music documentary featured my favourite group of all time, the Blue Öyster Cult, so of course I had to break off and watch… and time-travel with added loops and paradoxes takes thought. There will be a Part Two picking up where this closes. Patience!

The Neurosurgery Labs, Caltech, Pasadena

Johanna adjusted the set of the unfamiliar surgical mask Amy had insisted she wear. Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz looked up from the patient on the table.

"She's stable." she reported.

Amy Farrah-Fowler reached a gloved finger down and gently raised the patient's eyelid. Seeing an alive but unresponsive eye, she nodded.

"Patient under deep anaesthesia. I believe we are ready to proceed. Is the operation site prepared, Doctor Smith-Rhodes?"

Johanna indicated that the belly had been shaven to the skin in the appropriate area. Amy nodded approval.

"Is the owner under deep anaesthesia?" Bernadette asked, pointedly.

"Howard and Leonard are dealing with that, Doctor Rostenkowski-Wolowitz. I believe they have by now applied the appropriate sedatives to Raj, and he is accepting of the need for this procedure."

Leonard and Howard were ensuring Raj got good and drunk somewhere where he was out of their way. Which meant he would not be bursting into the operating theatre – which was actually in Amy's labs at Caltech. Johanna was keen to see how veterinarian procedures were done on Roundworld, and had accepted the need for mask and gown.

"Errr…" Bernadette said.

Amy raised an eyebrow. She paused in lifting the scalpel.

"Is there a problem, Doctor Rostenkowski-Wolowitz?" she asked.

"I don't mind being the anaesthetist while you guys do the surgery." she said. "But could you, you know, put the screen up so I don't need to watch?"

There was a short pause whilst the patient's body was concealed by a vertical screen of green operating theatre material. It shielded the sight of what was going on at one end of Cinnamon from the biochemist who was acting as assistant and monitoring life signs.

"Thanks, guys." Bernadette said. She busied herself with observing anywhere except where incisions were being made.

"Primary incision being made in the lower belly." Amy reported, as if making a formal record. "A distressing amount of subcutaneous fat present."

"Hey, she gets lipo too. As part of the package." Bernadette remarked.

Johanna carefully removed the oozing body fat, reflecting that overweight patients could be difficult patients. You didn't want it draining into the abdominal cavity. Amy stood back whilst she prepared the operation site.

"Es clear es I cen get, Doctor Farrah-Fowler." she reported. Amy moved in for the next stage.

"Proceeding to separate external abdominal oblique muscles. Clamp, please, Doctor Smith-Rhodes. Now separating internal abdominal oblique muscles. So it's you and Penny travelling to your world next, Johanna?"

"Ja." Johanna said, reaching into the abdominal cavity with a retractor probe. "Although Ponder is to follow with Leonard, so thet the four of us may perform a few tesks together. Uterus located. I em now exteriorising uterus end fellopian tubes. Swab, please."

"Making the necessary excisions now. Stand by to clamp and tie off blood vessels." Amy said. Johanna deftly clamped and tied as Amy did what was necessary.

"Normally I would do this solo." Amy remarked. "It's good to have assistance from somebody who knows what she's doing."

"Ag, it's just that my patients are not normally this small." Johanna said. "The lest hysterectomy I performed was on a wildebeest."

Amy shrugged.

"At least all mammals have recognisable organs which are in approximately the places you expect them to be in." Amy said. "Which makes life so much easier. What was the surgical reason for neutering your wildebeest?"

Johanna explained, clinically, about how a difficult birth had caused complications to the mother and prolapse of the internal organ, necessitating heroic surgery to repair the damage. The mother had been saved at the price of losing the ability to conceive further calves.

"You look a little bit ill there, Doctor Rostenkowski-Wolowitz?" Amy said, as she and Johanna stitched.

"Umm… no, I'm OK!" Bernadette squeaked. She looked pale. "Does this sorrta thing happen a lot?"

"Uterine prolapse? Eversion of the uterus via the vaginal channel following trauma such as, but not limited to, a difficult birth. It is common in all mammals. Including humans. Hysterectomy is only indicated if the prolapse cannot be restored by any other means." Amy remarked, dispassionately. "Final stiches going in. Routine operation complete. No complications."

"Well, she'll never be a mother now." Johanna said, stroking Cinnamon's head. "Es we told Rajesh, it will be for the best."

"She won't go into heat any more, either." Bernadette remarked, practically.

"I'm gled you talked him into this." Johanna said. Bernadette had spoken privately to Raj, with the rest of the gang in an adjacent room trying not to listen. It had been hard not to: Bernadette's voice had not been low or discreet in the end, making reference to how Ruth got her hand savaged needlessly, and how the only alternative to neutering had been strong veterinarian drugs that would supress Cinnamon going into heat, but which needed to be injected every damn time, Raj, with a greater risk of cancer and other life-shortening ailments the more often they were used. Best you bite the bullet and get her done by people who know what they're doing, and it only has to happen once. (1)

"Let me get the cone on." Amy said, applying the necessary after-operation device to prevent Cinnamon from worrying at her stitches. "Then I can move her to an observation cage and assign a student to keep an eye on her. To write the usual report as a grading exercise."

Johanna smiled. It was what students were for. She had no problem with this.

"So when do we go to your world?" Amy inquired. "I would prefer not to travel until I am sure Cinnamon has properly recovered. I consider I have a duty of care to her and definitely to Raj."

"Let's clear down, have a drink, end telk ebout thet." Johanna said. She set about tidying what was called "clinical waste" for correct disposal later, reaching for a yellow biohazard bag.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Patrician's Palace, Ankh-Morpork

Havelock Vetinari, Lord Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, put down the report and steepled his fingers. He looked out of the window and took in the rooftop view across the Broadways in the direction of Unseen University. His secretary, Rufus Drumknott, watched him, knowing His Lordship's moods and assessing him to be intrigued and in good humour.

"Such a remarkable and intellectually stimulating city, Drumknott." he remarked, after a while. "It appears everything finds its way here, as if drawn by some primal force."

"The report concerning the new type of were-creature, sir?" Drumknott ventured.

Vetinari nodded.

"Which caused no small stir on Gleam Street." he said. "Forty-six Watch officers were drawn to the pursuit."

"Largely, I understand, from the bar of the Bucket." Drumknott agreed. "Although several active street patrols were pulled into the chase too."

"Joining the chase is a fundamental Watch instinct." Vetinari said. "The chase comes first, I believe. If the Watchman, while chasing, then discovers the nature of the thing he is chasing, that is a bonus. And so we all follow our imperative."

"Captain von Überwald was most thorough in her report." Drumknott remarked. "And Doctor Smith-Rhodes was nearby to add her observations."

"Ah yes." Vetinari said, thoughtfully. "Doctor Smith-Rhodes. Who admitted to bringing the were-person into the City, and assures us the young lady is under her personal wardship and supervision."

"Do you wish me to request Doctor Smith-Rhodes to attend on you directly, sir?"

Vetinari shook his head.

"It may come to that, Drumknott. Certainly an option. But at this moment in time she presents us with an interesting paradox. According to the log book on the porters' desk at the Guild of Assassins, she left the building yesterday evening to answer a call from the University, which I understand involved an escort contract to Professor Stibbons. She has not signed back into the premises. But I am informed, among other interesting things which appear to be happening in her vicinity, she is indeed present at the Guild and taking her morning classes as usual today. For some reason her skin is several shades darker, as if she has spent an appreciable period of time in a most agreeable warm sunny place. Overnight."

Vetinari resteepled his fingers.

"And when Arch-Chancellor Ridcully calls in at the High Energy Magic building this morning, he will find an invoice for over seven thousand dollars pertaining to the construction of something called a Travelling Engine. Professor Stibbons will discover, to his discomfort, he did not conceal this adequately. Mr Pony, of the Guild of Artificers, expressed his disquiet to me concerning this Travelling Engine, noting it harnesses technomancy similar to that which drove the Sorting Engine at the Post Office. I have his report here somewhere."

"Which Mr Pony describes, in his own eloquently chosen words, as sodding dangerous." Drumknott remarked.

"Exactly so, Drumknott."

There was a pause. Drumknott coughed, diffidently.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes, in her coda to the report, describes the girl, whom she calls simply Lucy, as a native of a settlement called Pasadena, which she believes is located in a place which has much in common with the Lower States of Aceria."

"An interesting choice of words, Drumknott. Miss Smith-Rhodes is a very scrupulous person who I believe would hesitate before telling an outright lie." Vetinari remarked. "I appreciate such people."

"A mystery indeed, sir." Drumknott remarked. "Without seeming to have gone anywhere at all, Doctor Smith-Rhodes develops a sun-tan consistent with several weeks spent in a hot sunny place. But it is midwinter here. She introduces a mystery girl to this city, who turns out to be a were-deer. A shy and easily startled young girl whose origins are mysterious. The Doctor is close to Professor Stibbons. Who commissions this travelling engine device…"

Drumknott looked up, startled, as the pieces began to fit. Vetinari smiled slightly.

"Exactly so, Drumknott. Time and space are more flexible than we think. Especially within the confines of the Roundworld Project."

"Do we intervene, sir?" Drumknott asked, diffidently. Vetinari smiled slightly and shook his head.

"I do not believe the City is under threat. I consider it would be informative to all concerned for the moment if we simply monitor. And observe what else is brought to us from the Roundworld. So far, with few exceptions, the Project has been educative and intellectually fruitful."

"And two of our city's intellectual community would not have travelled there without a good reason."

A palace servant knocked on the door and called for Mr Drumknott to attend downstairs, sir. In accordance with the Standing Order on Gifts of Foodstuffs.

"We had better go and see what we've been given this time by appreciative members of the public." Vetinari remarked. "My word, some of the ladies in this city appear to believe I need a square meal and fattening up."

"It's been a bit unproductive on that front since Glenda Sugarbean left, sir." Drumknott remarked.

"Indeed. But if that episode taught us anything, it was never to refuse a superlative pie." Vetinari said, drily. "Shall we go?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2311 North los Robles, Pasadena

The Travelling Engine was fully laden. Several suitcases and hold-alls had been strapped to its framework. Johanna had insisted. HEX, with seeming bad grace, had consented reluctantly, remarking that he would be forced to restore the relative balance between worlds in some small but precise way. Pressed to elaborate, the thinking engine had said that any significant and permanent transfer of mass between the worlds needed to be equalised to prevent even the slightest distortion. The third law of thermodynamics demanded this. While he was certain Johanna and the others had not noticed at the time, when five cubic centimetres of rattlesnake venom had been sent back to the Roundworld during their wilderness expedition, he had felt obliged to counter-balance the transition by returning an equivalent mass from the Disc. Nothing important or significant. Nobody would have noticed perhaps thirty grammes of brick dust from a convenient construction site in Ankh-Morpork settling over the Sierra Madres.(2)

++You remain unaware of all the compensatory work required in facilitating your expedition. ++ HEX had complained, with a hint of unappreciated petulance. ++It requires planning and careful calculation on my part. ++

"Eppreciated, HEX." Johanna said, briefly. "You hev the stuff safely, Penny? Gut. Let us go."

Penny nodded from underneath and behind a stack of boxes and books stacked on her lap. A faint and interestingly delicious smell was in the air. She steeled herself, apprehensive after her last trip in the Engine and wondering what this one was likely to bring. Johanna had said she wanted to introduce Penny to people she knew, but had not elaborated.

++Leonard?++ Stand by for my return. ++I will reunite you with Penny on the Discworld.++ She will be perfectly safe.++

Leonard exchanged a quick kiss with Penny, then stood well back. The Engine Dopplered and hummed. Then it was gone.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caltech, Pasadena

In their shared office at Caltech, Ruth N'Kweze, who it was agreed would remain on Roundworld for the moment, was continuing her researches. HEX had given her an Internet tutorial, and the idea that everything she needed to know about Roundworld was a click or two away was a concept that really excited her. (3)

The white population of the United States is historically composed of descendants of European immigrants. she wrote. The girl Lucy has a surname which I identify as being Brindisian…. Ruth paused. She made a necessary correction. That is, Italian. Italy is a region, a nation, an ethnicity and a language in Europe. Ruth paused again. It had to be absolutely watertight for Johanna. For seven years one of the minor dreads of students at the Guild School had been work returned with D-. See me. J S-R. written in red ink at the bottom.

It is therefore possible that the latent were-nature in her being is something imported, in her family line, from Italy. I would also need to test this by looking for other European ethnicities in her family line. Not everyone in the USA is "pure" in their lineage, I have discovered, and a typical American, several generations away from Europe, might combine one or more original ethnicities.

To begin with, Italy and its continental neighbours in Switzerland (4), Austria(5) and France(6) are characterised by high hills and mountainous terrain, especially in the Alpine mountains, where all four meet. Many cervine creatures are to be found in such high mountainous terrain.

Ruth sighed and sat back. She really needed to talk to Lucy, who, afterwards, she'd only seen exhausted and well out of it. She wondered if Amy could organise this for her; she had taken on the task of looking after Lucy and monitoring her recovery. Then a wicked thought struck her, based on something she'd been told about Johanna's interactions with Sheldon Cooper.

"Mr HEX?" she asked.

++I hear you, Ruth++

"Here, Johanna and I are two South Africans sharing an office. Is it possible to print out, in colour, a South African flag? A current one?"

Images flashed out on the screen. The printer hummed. After a while, Ruth smiled happily and located some drawing pins. She liked this flag, which evoked tribal art and painting. It would look good on the office door….
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Neurosurgery Labs, Caltech, Pasadena

Amy Farrah-Fowler was excited. For the fourth or fifth time, she ran through the analysis of the blood samples she'd taken from Lucy on her return from the Discworld. There was absolutely no error. Two or three hours before the samples had been taken, Lucy's blood chemistry had contained massive amounts of noradrenaline, ephenidrene, adrenaline and several other biochemical agents she had simply not been able to identify, sympathomimetic amines of an unknown type, and alkaloid phenethylamines. The known fight-or-flight drugs had decayed and broken down in the time since the transformation, but simple reverse calculation had told her they had gone massively off the scale in a way that would have killed most human beings. Or at least made them seriously ill.

The key must be in these un-known substances. They must mitigate the adverse effects of so much pseudomethamphetamine and derivatives in the system. Present in such quantities that most people would have suffered a degree of heart failure. Hopefully I can work on these partial biochemical and molecular structures I've been able to deduce. Refine them. Could Bernadette help? Is there anything in the scientific literature she has access to? Are these strange biochemicals the triggers to the were-state?

Amy frowned. She wanted more CAT-time, this time with Lucy as test subject. Something not entirely human had happened here. She slapped herself for being a sloppy thinker. If it happens to a human, even if only one in ten million, then it's human. However rare. It is still within the boundaries of human neurochemistry. There are seven billion of us. Our species throws up sports and oddities all the time.

She went back to studying the fragmentary chemical shapes she'd been able to extract, with computer assistance, from fast-disintegrating original traces. At least these made the shapes of known substances whose properties she could predict and understand. But with odd twists.

Sympathomimetics. Could these be the key to a second physical shape latent within the boundaries of the primary morphenogenetic? I need time on a DNA sequencer to see what might be going on at a deeper level still. We have RNA and DNA. Do werecreatures have a third, dynamic, code, let's call it XNA, that can over-ride and rewrite the first two helixes? And would Johanna's werewolf bezzie have a different trigger? Wolves are predators, deer are prey…. Could I talk the werewolf girl into giving me a blood sample, or samples? Before and after her transformation? (7)

Amy worked on, deeply fascinated by the new questions, but aware that there was no way – yet – she could dare write up this as a research paper without losing a lot of scientific credibility. She winced. Meeting Discworld people was, sure as Hell, a double-edged sword.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And, as Johanna, Penny and perhaps a hundred kilograms of Roundworld-originated goods arrived on the Disc, the Abbot of the History Monks looked up at the mountainside above Oi Dong and broke off his conversation with a group of his fellows. A large rock, he estimated maybe two hundred pounds, broke off from a mass and began rolling down the slope in a potentially avalanche-threatening way.

"Shall I ask the Procastrinator Hall to…"

The Abbot impatiently waved for silence. The large rolling mass of stone was throwing up dust and lesser stones now. But as they watched, both the boulder and the dustcloud winked out of existence. The monks heaved a collective sigh of relief.

"Somebody's on the ball, then." a monk observed. "Lu-Tze?"

"Don't look at me." the Sweeper objected, as he rolled a cigarette. "Didn't do a thing, me."

"Things come out of the Void for no apparent reason." Rinpo intoned, portentously. "And they also return to the Void for no apparent reason."

"Maybe." the Sweeper shrugged. "Or it could just be Qu mucking around."

"But if it wasn't us." the Abbot mused. "Then who?"

"Who cares? Didn't land on us, and that's as good as a result." Lu-Tze remarked.

"Call it the Void, then." said the Abbot. The monks walked on.

And on the Roundworld, a large, heavy, granite rock, weighing about two hundred pounds, spontaneously appeared in the Neskaupstaður region of Iceland, where geologists put it down to unexplained volcanic activity, and locals put it down to the trolls and the elves.(8)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Guild of Assassins, Ankh-Morpork:

The Doppler stopped shifting, the light show strobed down, and the humming sound faded out.

"Nnnghhh…." said Penny.

Johana took a few seconds to let her head clear. She could hear barking dogs, slightly muffled, in the near distance. She frowned. Kaffee and Crème were back on the Roundworld with Ruth…. weren't they? This was definitely home, her apartment at the Guild. She could hear the familiar sounds of the School around her, Raven House getting ready to start its school day. Clattering of feet on the bare wood corridor and stairs, girls' voices… and that's me, sitting in my chair over there…

She did a double-take. She heard Penny make a "sweet freakin' Jesus!" noise. But no mistake. The twin sister she didn't know she had was sitting at the table, a stack of school exercise books next to her, with both elbows propped up and hands supporting her chin. She was looking at her with appraising interest.

"I knew you'd turn up around now." she said, in Vondalaans. "The situation mandates it."

Johanna thought quickly. Ponder had done something similar, hadn't he, to finesse the Housemate Agreement with Sheldon Cooper…

"I had, I think, better get the bags unpacked." Johanna said to herself.

"Ja." the other Johanna agreed. She now spoke Morporkian. "Penny? I eccept this may look strange. Please eccept thet for now, there are two of me. You will, I think, need two of those boxes end the essociated books for your next call. If you could put the rest in the kitchen for now? It is just over there. Thenk you."

"Er… sure thing." Penny said, bemused. She carefully sorted her burden and took what was not immediately required to the kitchen. The Johanna who had just arrived from Pasadena did some quick thinking. It had been agreed that she and Penny would make two strategic calls on people living in Ankh-Morpork. And her other self seemed perfectly aware of this. Therefore…

"You are me. But from some point in my future, ja-nie?" she said, in Vondalaans.

"Just as you are me, but from a point in my past." Johanna agreed. She closed the exercise book she had been marking and put down her feared red pen.

"Michael Rodwell from Viper House requires a little remedial teaching." She remarked. "That was a rushed and perfunctory essay."

"So you wish me to share the marking of assignments?" Johanna demanded. Her alternate smiled. "We'd get it done in half the time, ja!" she said.

Johanna studied herself. Still young-looking. No wrinkles yet. Spoke in a firm authoritative voice. She was relieved about that. Moved with a sort of grace. Still looking good, for thirty.

Penny returned from the kitchen. She saw the Johanna behind the desk push her chair back and stand up.

"Um. According to Leonard, you guys shouldn't touch or anything." she said. "Just in case, you know, you cancel each other out or stuff like that."

"Shall we try it?" one of the Johannas said to the other. Both grinned. Penny had come to know that grin. She yelped, and dived for cover behind the sofa.

Nothing happened as they shook hands. Penny cautiously raised her head.

"Thought it wouldn't." said Pasadena-Johanna.

"Didn't think so." said Ankh-Morpork Johanna. We hev still to get beck to our respective timelines. Cancelling each other out would create a peredox."

"Ja. Ponder is keen on warning egainst peredoxes."

"You know." the local Johanna said, thoughtfully. "If we were two versions of Alice Band brought together from two different parts of her timeline, she would not just stop et shaking hends."

Johanna considered this. "Alice, I think, would take the experiment further. Now thet would be one for the wizards studying time-trevel peredoxes!"

"Alice, right." Penny said, cautiously. "She's the gay one?" And then it sunk in. "Guys, that's squicky!"

"You have to love Penny, don't you?" one Johanna said to the other. Both nodded.

"Perheps not so much squick, es a unique end never before ettempted form of masturbation." the other Johanna said, keeping an extremely poker face.

Penny considered this. Then all three burst out laughing.

"Err, Kaffee and Crème?" Penny asked. "We didn't bring those guys back with us. They're back in Pasadena. Sleeping off a big breakfast in my apartment. Ruth's in charge of them."

"Locked in my bedroom, for now." local-Johanna said, shrugging. "They came beck with me. I knew you were erriving, end I did not want them to see two of me. They would be confused."

"Elso best to keep them out of the kitchen" Pasadena-Johanna said, practically. "There is temptation there, for now."

"Ja. Temptation. Which brings me to whet hes to be done today. We do not hev long." said the local Johanna. "Listen to me. I know whet we ere ebout to discuss es from my point of view, I hev elready been there, stending where you ere now. I even remember the joke ebout Alice."

"But for me, this is my first time." said Pasadena-Johanna. "Is there a script we hev to follow? Ponder is very fussy ebout getting it right. I hev not yet seen him get really engry, but people tell me thet the lest time he did, he made Ridcully take a couple of steps beckwards. I would not like him to get thet engry with me."

"Yeah, saw that in Leonard once. You don't expect guys like Leonard to go really ape, so when they do it's a shocker." Penny said.

"I remember Penny saying thet too." local Johanna said. "Just es you will remember when you get to this part of the loop in time. I believe we should each say whet feels correct. Without intellectualising it. Then it will work out."

They unpacked the Travelling Engine, talking about the morning ahead while they unstrapped and stacked boxes and bundles. Penny gleaned they had a mission which involved making sales presentations to a couple of seriously influential guys. Done properly, it would ensure a steady flow of bucks, or the local equivalent of, which would sustain the Pasadena gang for their stay in this strange city.

++You are forgetting your third appointment this morning.++

HEX had remained silent during the introductions, but now needed to make a contribution.

"The third, HEX?" Johanna said, politely.

++I have been present, am present and will be present at all points during the existence of this time-loop.++ HEX said. ++Excuse my ambivalence in using a language designed to tell other apes where the best fruit is. ++It did not evolve to describe situations like this.++ I can confirm that where two versions of Johanna Smith-Rhodes encounter each other, they both speak their parts with 95% accuracy and no major temporal paradox is precipitated. ++ But the two versions have diverged enough to create a branch in time which is identical to the other in all respects.++Save that the newly-arrived Johanna and Penny will, later this morning, need to speak to the Patrician, Lord Havelock Vetinari.++

"And that's bad, is it?" Penny asked.

The look on the faces of the two Johannas told its own story.

++I foresee a strong probability of success in the formal introduction if one precaution is taken. ++ HEX said, smoothly. ++But you can deal with that later. ++ I propose, as a matter of urgency and to avoid further temporal strain, to translocate you via the Engine to Unseen University.++ Arch-Chancellor Ridcully has just entered the High Energy Magic Building and he is about to find something that will make him extremely angry with Ponder Stibbons. ++ You will need to calm him and suggest a plan of action that will appeal to him and save Ponder – and myself - from censure. ++

"Better trevel, then." Johanna said. "Joan cen wait a few moments. Got the stuff, Penny? Take both, I think."

She leapt into a seat on the Engine. Penny followed her.

Local Johanna watched them impassively.

"I remember doing this too." she said. "It all works out, Johanna. When HEX brings you beck here, I will have gone to take the girls into breakfast, end then to my first cless. You will then be free to go into the School end find Joan, to make your sales pitch to her. Nice to meet you!"

They waved goodbye as the Engine hummed, Dopplered and disappeared.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The high Energy Magic Building, Unseen University

Mustrum Ridcully got up early in the mornings. This always disconcerted wizards who were not used to this. And whenever he visited the High Energy Magic Building first thing before breakfast, he tended to meet the other sort of early-morning wizards, who achieved this by the simple resort of not having bothered to go to bed the previous night.

"Don't mind me, you fellows!" he boomed, as his presence was recognised. "You men just carry on with what you were doing. Where's Stibbons, by the way?"

++He is elsewhere, Arch-Chancellor.++ said the calm voice of HEX. ++His return here is anticipated later this morning. ++Within the next half-hour, in fact.++

Ridcully grunted and bent over the desk used by Ponder Stibbons. It would discomfort Ponder immensely to learn that his boss was beginning to work out strategies for dealing with him. Like making intelligent guesses as to where Ponder would conceal an inconvenient invoice for the expenditure of several thousand dollars' worth of University finance.

Ridcully grunted as he found a likely-looking book.

Whatmere's Guide To Double-Entry Book-keeping in Magical Professions. he read. The indispensable guide to financial record-keeping for the modern Wizard or magical practitioner, in 576 concise pages!

There was a piece of folded paper in between the pages. He extracted it. It was an invoice, payable to the Guild of Artificers, for the construction of a bespoke Time Travelling-Engine, payment to the tune of AM$7,650.43 welcomed by the end of the month.

He nodded. The rumours were true, then. Vetinari had dropped him a broad hint. He took a deep breath.

"STI-IBBBBONS!" he yelled.

As if on cue, something materialised in the HEM. Ridcully watched the Engine return, impassively. He recognised one of the people on it. The other was un-known to him. But both were female. He stalked over.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes." He said, with exaggerated patience. "I don't suppose you'd care to enlighten me as to what the blue bloody blazes is going on around here in me absence?"

And then the other person looked up at him. She was capable of derailing his train of thought.

"Errr…hi…." Penny said, uncertainly.

Ridcully softened. It was suddenly hard to stay angry.

"Come over here, m'dears, where we can talk…" he said gallantly.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) "She really does sound like my mom." Howard had said, uneasily. Leonard had patted his shoulder and poured him another drink.

(2) HEX had done this sort of thing before. Reasoning that the returned compensatory mass should go to a place where it would be unobserved and hard to find, he had dumped a large rock from the Ramtop Mountains in Antarctica. Where Roundworld geologists had found it, decided excitedly that anomalies in its structure proved it to be not of Earthly origin, and jumped to the conclusion that it was a meteorite from Mars thrown up by, we don't know, some perturbation on the surface of the planet and thrown into orbit, eventually to fall on our world. Narrativium has a short half-life and decays quickly on Roundworld. But before it goes, decaying into its next stage of Plausibilium, it has a marked effect on the minds of those encountering it, and causes them to be creatively imaginative.

(3) HEX had urgently counselled Ruth on this one and reminded her he was there to provide discernment where it was called for. When she found a site called Chimpout when searching for material on the habits and ethnology of chimpanzees, her initial enthusiasm and naivety about everything on the Internet being true would vanish like spit on hot coals. "Chimpout" is a seriously racist site comparing black people to… well, you get the picture. I was researching chimps, the animal sort, too. This kind of thing has you first reading in appalled fascination, then wanting a hot bath and brain-bleach afterwards.

(4) – aspects of Switzerland mutually intrude with Discworld's Überwald

(5) - the Discworld's Austria-like country is also Überwald, but its more warlike aggressive aspects, as well as its pride-in-inverse-proportions-to-military-competence, belong to its neighbour Borogravia.

(6) Quirm, of course. Guided by HEX, Ruth would note all these things in helpful scholastic footnotes, as well as noting the unfortunate quirk of truly egregious geography that made France, Italy and Germany (the other referent for Überwald) into near-neighbours. And some really big fights happen over disputed property boundaries and garden features, as the Watch well knew.

(7) 101 THINGS NOT TO DO ON THE DISCWORLD: To ask Angua von Überwald for a blood sample, so as to isolate the neurological and biochemical triggers behind the werewolf transformation.

(8) They were very careful not to disturb it, and walked carefully around it at a respectful distance, so as not to annoy the Elves. Elves and Iceland somehow went together.

Chapter 27: The Cardio-Gastric Dissection

Wheeler-Bell Twenty-Seven

The Male Appeasement Via The Oesephagal Sphincter Experiment

And we're back. Foodstuffs dominate this chapter.

Amy Farrah-Fowler frowned over her paperwork. The blood samples she had taken from Lucy were in the fridge, she knew. They were safe and any further degradation had been arrested by the cold. The test results and printouts were on the desk in front of her and stored on various hard-drives. But now she needed to do a full DNA test to find out what was in there. She suspected it would be more than most people had in their helices. How was she to do it? It wasn't the cost. Like Sheldon she lived largely frugally and her pay checks backed up in her bank account faster than she could spend them. Penny regularly asked her how the freak she managed that. It was a concept entirely alien to Penny, whose relation with the income-expenditure curve was skewed in the other direction. And this was so interesting she'd be willing to pay for the DNA tests and sequencing herself. But the moment it went official in any way at all and other researchers and professionals became involved, it was leaving a paper trail and alerting others to the fact something weird was going on. Which could blow the whole secret and might even call her academic credibility into question. And roll on to compromise Sheldon, Leonard, Raj, Howard, Bernadette….

She raised her glasses off the bridge of her nose and frowned, then rubbed her eyes. Amy could muster some very impressive frowns when she was intellectually engaged. And the idea that werewolves, were-creatures, were not just a fable, and she may well have objective evidence in front of her….. this was big. And potentially career-destroying.

"HEX?" she asked, speaking apparently into thin air.

++How may I assist you, Amy?++

"I have a professional dilemma. Let me explain it to you…"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In an open courtyard at the Guild of Assassins, a set of gymnasium crash-mats had been laid out over well-swept cobbles. Johanna Smith-Rhodes smiled benevolently at her class, senior Assassin students on the Black. None were armed and all, male and female, were in baggy casual clothing allowing for free easy movement. Johanna, who had recently spent several weeks on the Roundworld and had every intention of returning there, rolled up her sleeves. Her students looked incredulously at the sun-tan which they were sure their teacher had not had the previous day. Johanna had shrugged it off as a side-effect of some work she had done in exploring magical spaces at the University. A working assignment, she had said, off-handedly. If you are paid to escort a wizard, you will find strange and unpredictable things happen. The University may well offer such assignments, should you graduate as Assassins. Evaluate them with caution.

And that had been true, to a given value of true.

Johanna studied her students. Most of them were Black Track seniors of sixteen to eighteen, ones she'd selected herself as having the aptitude and inclinations to benefit from these lessons. And then there was…

"Mr Drooley." She invited him. Wayne Drooley stepped forward, looking uneasy to have been singled out. He was only fifteen, from the Middle School, and was yet to decide if he wanted to Take Black. Johanna had invited him into this class for several reasons. Drooley was big for his age, muscular, athletic, and was a Scholarship pupil the School had taken as a sort of social experiment. Mr Bradlofrudd, the PE Coach, had advocated for his enrolment for reasons of his own. These boiled down to Drooley being a "bloody natural" at team sports involving propelling a ball into the other team's goal. The fact he was a mainstay of School foot-the-ball teams had in the event mattered more than his being a slum kid from Dimwell and not being intellectually inclined. Although his spatial intelligence was good, in specialised ways: he could calculate the parabola of a moving ball in an instant and his feet could work out the best route for it to take in scoring goals.(1) This talent had enabled him to avoid excessive censure for little disciplinary defaults such as hanging The Right Honourable Tarquin Eorle out of a fifth-floor window by his ankles, and threatening to let go. Other boys treated him with caution and respect but appreciated his sporting prowess. Teachers in the more academic disciplines tended to sigh resignedly and arrive at little accommodations with Drooley. His Quirmian teacher skipped all the stuff about la plume de ma tante and gave him the sporting pages of Quirm-Match to read. If he could transcribe the match report on Quirm St Germaine's latest game into reasonably good Morporkian, he got course credits. (2) Miss Alice Band arranged for him to do Extra Edificeering rather than Ancient History or Archaeology. (3) Johanna, taking her Natural History class to the Zoo and assigning tasks, had discovered he had a way with the gorillas that unkind contemporaries put down to a closer-than-usual family connection. Assigned to their enclosure, she had discovered him teaching the young gorillas simple ball games whilst their indulgent parents looked on, possibly grateful for the baby-sitting. (4)

Mr Moody had given up on teaching him Latatian. Drooley didn't bother turning up for Moody's classes and the teacher ignored this, possibly gratefully. (5)

She studied the large hulking youth in front of her and smiled. This did not seem to relieve him in any way.

"Mr Drooley." she said. "For the purposes of this cless, I require you to run et me end to use all the strength, skill and force et your disposal to knock me down. In your own time!"

Wayne Drooley was not academic. But he was by no means stupid either. He hesitated.

"Errr… miss?" he said, hesitatingly. "I'm twice your size. Twice your weight. Errr…"

She nodded. "Cerry on, Mr Drooley."

"Well… errr. I know how these things go, miss. I'm betting that one of us is going to be flat on their face and seeing stars. And it won't be you."

"Well, et least you are not over-confident, Mr Drooley. Thet is a stert. But do not presume. This course is called "Unorthodox Combat Techniques" for a good reason. Rush et me…."

Seconds later, Wayne Drooley was indeed flat on his face on the crash mat. He felt his right hand twisted up behind his back and what he presumed was the sole of a boot planted on the back of his neck.

"Now, cless." he heard her say, "Mr Drooley is on his face end immobilised. Should I continue to exert pressure on his right wrist, his whole arm will inevitably pop out of the shoulder et the socket. This is mendated when fighting the sort of individual the City Watch describes es a "bottle-covey." But es I hev a liking for Mr Drooley end find him a pleasant fellow, I will let him go. Then we will pair off end I will guide you through the combet moves I used just now. This demonstrates thet you should not be intimidated by the size of your opponent. Very often their weight, power end untutored speed cen be used es weapons egainst them." (6)

Watching and guiding her students, she found time to reflect on recent events in her life. Penny had taken her to an evening class she attended in something called "krav maga". Johanna had found aspects of the teaching interesting and useful, but had concluded that it was pretty much what she taught to her own students. The tutor, a slightly built man who made her think of a fit, trained and lethal version of Howard Wolowitz, had thought so too. He had assumed she'd learnt her skills in the South African Defence Forces? She had agreed, as it almost fitted her life history and was in line with her cover story. Apparently the tutor had learnt his combat skills in the Israeli Army. Johanna recalled the cover story said Israel and South Africa had been close covert allies until the Change happened in 1994. "Ma'am," he had said, that wince-making "ma'am" again. "You should be teaching a class like this. You're way ahead of all these other gals."

She had agreed and said it was something to consider. And here she was… idly, she wondered how her other self was shaping up. Even though, having already been through that particular loop in Time, she already, broadly speaking, knew the outcome. HEX had assured her the time-lines would diverge again soon and the other Johanna would step off into a timeline of her own. Neither needed to wink out of existence and both would continue, each with an odd memory of having encountered herself in a loop of Time caused by the back-and-forth transitions between Disc and Earth. She hoped so.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in the High Energy Magic building of Unseen University, as if on cue, something materialised. Mustrum Ridcully, still furious at Ponder Stibbons for landing a large bill on him for building some damn sort of machine, watched the Travelling Engine return. Despite himself he watched it with studied interest, and recognised one of the people on it. The other was un-known to him. But both were female. He stalked over.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes." he said, with exaggerated patience. "I don't suppose you'd care to enlighten me as to what the blue bloody blazes is going on around here in me absence?"

And then the other person looked up at him. She was capable of derailing his train of thought.

"Errr…hi…." Penny said, uncertainly.

Ridcully softened. It was suddenly hard to stay angry.

"Come over here, m'dears, where we can talk…" he said gallantly.

Penny and Johanna had both heard the angry bull-like roar of "STI-BONNNNS!" as the Engine materialised. They remembered that Johanna's alternate self from a couple of days in the future had advised them they had to get Ponder out of trouble somehow. And it didn't sound good. Penny, who seemed slightly deafened and a little bit apprehensive about her new surroundings, wondered how Johanna was going to get them out of this one. Hell, it was her world. She'll know. She took in the large airy space around them. Guys who looked like extras from a Harry Potter movie were appraising them with frank but guarded interest. Penny recognised similarities with the Physics labs at Caltech. Discarded and half-consumed pizza boxes on every flat space. A general nerdy-geek look. Bizarre machinery. Blackboards with incomprehensible symbols chalked up on them, with lots of crossing-out and alterations in various handwriting. Penny grasped the familiar weird science stuff with relief, and used it to anchor herself.

"I just bet you guys read comic books and play games, right?" she said, pleasantly. Various nods and mumbles met her.

"And you find it hard to talk to women. Ah-huh. Been there."

She walked over to where the big guy in the Head Wizard robes was ushering them. Johanna suddenly realised. She's dressed for Earth. California-casual. Bare legs. Tight top. And it's on Penny. They're staring….

Behind them, the Travelling Engine hummed and a halo of multi-coloured light formed around it. Ridcully turned and watched it disappear.

"Hey! Stop that!" he bellowed. "That's nearly eight thousand dollars of University money going up in a puff of magic!"

++It is a machine for travelling in space and time, Arch-Chancellor.++ HEX said, mildly. ++It is under pre-set direction.++Everything is under control.++It will shortly return.++

"Ponder and Leonard?" Penny asked softly, feeling less alone in this place. Johanna nodded. Then Ridcully waved the invoice at her.

"You're a Doctor of this University, young lady." he said, in a lower voice. "I made you one. Which means while you're here on University business, I'm your line manager and you report back to me. So where would you like to start?"

"I egree this is a lot of money, Erch-Chencellor." Johanna said, taking the invoice and scrutinising it. Ridcully nodded, slowly and meaningfully. "It represents a major investment by this University."

"You're tellin' me!" Ridcully barked. "You know me, Doctor Smith-Rhodes. I'm not an unreasonable fellow. Never have been. I give Stibbons and the clever young buggers in this Department a lot of space and freedom. But this is eight thousand dollars worth of rope to hang yerself on!"

Johanna bowed her head in seeming submission. Penny winced, thinking back to the rule-of-thumb that said one dollar here was worth a hundred at home. She added two noughts. Hell, Ponder's just spent the best part of a million bucks on equipment. And it looks like he ain't got authorisation. If Leonard did that at Caltech he'd be applyin' for food stamps tomorrow!

"I cen see why you think this way, Erch-Chencellor." Johanna said, in a soothing voice.

"And I just bet there'll be a bill comin' in for your services too." Ridcully grunted. "One Licenced Assassin as escort and bodyguard. With Guild tax."

"We cen negotiate thet one, Erch-Chencellor." she soothed him. "But could I just say thet the protocols of the Roundworld Project state thet expenditure on specialised equipment may be set eside, or amortized egainst the benefits of eny Roundworld technology which may be imported here, end proven to be of great benefit to the peoples of the Disc?"

Ridcully grunted. But he appeared to be considering the point.

"Well, yes. But the Roundworld technology has to prove its worth in terms of value added." He conceded. "Is it beneficial? It isn't just us who decides, y'know. Vetinari likes to be kept informed, and he rules. Are there any hazards or perils? And I see by the look on your face end that respectful body language you're usin', that you're about to surprise me. This other young lady with the big cardboard boxes in her hands, to whom I have not yet been introduced, has got somethin' to show me, possibly? But, and I want to make this abundantly clear, is it worth eight thousand dollars? If it isn't, Stibbons is in big trouble!"

Johanna smiled.

"You are correct, Erch-Chencellor. This is Penny from Pasadena. Penny, this is Erch-Chencellor Ridcully of Unseen University. Think of him es being in the same position es President Siebert et Celtech. He runs this University end is the highest authority."

"Errr… hi." Penny said again. She set the boxes down on a nearby tabletop. Johanna helpfully swept a couple of empty pizza trays onto the floor to make room.

Ridcully glowered down doubtfully.

"Why am I thinkin' this is going to work out like that presentation you did at the Palace?" he demanded. "The one where you shook everyone down and got them to put their hands in their pockets and pay for your Zoo?"(7)

"Hold that thought, sir." Johanna requested him. She was aware a dozen or so students and junior wizards were watching with covert interest. Most of them were still focused on Penny, something she did not seem to be greatly concerned by. Johanna suspected this was nothing new for her.

"This is one of those benefits of contect with the Roundworld end direct visits there." Johanna said, smoothly. She had practiced this in her head for some time. "I believe this idea hes potential."

Penny opened a box.

Ridcully grunted. He seemed interested.

"Are there any reasonably clean plates evailable?" Johanna asked.

"This is a foodstuff?" Ridcully inquired. Both girls nodded. Ridcully pointed a finger.

"You. To the Night Kitchen. Plates and spoons. Now. My authority."

An anonymous student wizard raced to obey. As they waited for his return, Penny, supported by Johanna, explained the concept of cheesecake to Ridcully. He nodded understanding.

"I can certainly smell an aroma of cream in there." he said. "Sweet biscuit and butter seem to figure too. Some sort of fruit. Definitely lemon. Possibly somethin'…. tropical. "

Penny seemed surprised.

"Wizards have good noses for food." Johanna explained. "The University is renowned for its catering. This is not the refectory et Celtech."

"But still. A cake. Made out of cheese?"

"Trust me." Johanna said. "It is not known here."

"Soft cheese, er, sir." Penny said. "That's only a short step away from cream and yoghurt. Sweetened, flavoured with lemon, and baked with egg, in the case of this cheesecake. The other one is what's called a cold-set cheesecake, that doesn't use eggs. It's gonna have a different taste."

It was standard table-service patter at the Cheesecake Factory. Although Penny wondered how good she'd have to be to garner what amounted to eight hundred thousand dollars' worth of tip, and save Ponder's ass. It had been known, though. (8).

The student returned with a dozen sideplates and a handful of spoons. Ridcully nodded.

"Put 'em down here, lad." he said, in the manner of a senior academic allocated a student to do the dogsbody chores. "No knife, I see."

"Anyone got a knife?" Penny asked. Before she'd finished speaking a long nasty-looking blade was in Johanna's hand, having seemingly arrived there out of nowhere.

"Silly question, huh…." she mumbled, receiving the knife that Johanna was politely holding out, handle-first.

"Lemon and mango cheesecake, sir." Penny said, smiling her best smile at Ridcully and expertly cutting him a slice. She balanced this on the blade of the knife and deftly transferred it to a plate, which she offered to Ridcully. Surprisingly, he shook his head.

"Not me. Yet. Call me paranoid, but this is a brand-new comestible. Which an Assassin is strongly urgin' me to take, knowin' I've just expressed unkind and injurious thoughts concernin' her boyfriend."

He beckoned the student he'd just sent to the nearby kitchen on an errand.

"First slice to you, I think, lad. Prime rule of teachin' wizardry. If you ain't sure, try it out on a student. That's what they're there for. Eat up, boy!"

Penny smiled reassuringly as the young student wizard spooned up a portion, bringing it to his mouth with great reluctance. Then he became the first person on the Discworld to eat cheesecake. Penny smiled benevolently and warmly, causing most of the students in the vicinity to fall in love, or something similar, with her. Ridcully watched with growing interest.

"Like a bloody damned Auditor with chocolate." he observed. Then he held out a plate to Penny, with a sort of respectful air.

"When you're ready, me dear." he said. And shortly afterwards he became the second person on the Disc to have a cheesecake moment.

Penny and Johanna shook hands. Then they counted the number of students in the room and began cutting modest portions.

"A good scientific experiment must be thorough." Johanna remarked. "We need a good sized semple population."

"Make observations. Take notes." Penny agreed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Breakfast was still going on in the main hall of the Guild. Joan Sanderson-Reeves had arrived at the Guild School and was busy setting up for her first lesson in the Domestic Science teaching kitchen. It would be a basic lesson in Introduction to Desserts and would involve a class of thirty students, who would be guided through the process of baking a simple sponge cake. In an extended three-hour class, emphasis would be made on filling and decorating the finished sponge. Cream was available for whipping and soft fruit would be pureed into a setting gel to pour on top. Other skills would be demonstrated and taught during the morning.(9) She and her teaching assistant, Jennifer Swizzel-Matlow, a recent graduate who specialised in sweet things(10), were ensuring adequate ingredients were available, and speculating on how many of the resultant cakes would be fit to be avoided by Dwarfs on a long trek in the wilderness. It was shaping up to be a routine class. Joan, a thirty-year veteran of teaching domestic science and home economics to girls at schools across the Disc, considered it to be just another day.

Joan, a woman who in appearance had been likened to an impatient vulture seeking to hurry things along a bit, took a grateful sip from her mug of tea and wondered which ham-fisted student would really botch things this morning.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mustrum Ridcully consumed a second portion of cheesecake with every outward sign of relish. Penny nudged Johanna.

"Way to go with getting Dumbledore on side, huh?" she said, smiling with relief.

"Dumbledore?" Ridcully repeated, suspiciously. Johanna tried to keep her face straight. She hoped Ridcully knew nothing about the Harry Potter 'verse.

++Professor Dumbledore is a much-loved fictitious character in a dramatic series on the Roundworld, Arch-Chancellor.++ HEX said, smoothly. ++He is the greatest authority on magic in that world's romantic literature and, in his own universe, commands great respect and authority.++ He is known and regarded highly by millions of people.++ Penny is translating you in terms of her own cultural references.++I understand it to be a compliment.++

"Hmmmph." Ridcully said, indistinctly. "Known and respected by millions, hey?"

Then he changed tack.

"You make these things, m'dear?" he said to Penny.

"Yup!" she replied, proudly. "And Johanna tells me you don't have Mississippi Mud Pie – that's a chocolate thing – or Florida Key Lime here. I can do those too."

"There's a vacancy." Ridcully said, creating it on the spot. "Dessert Chef. Thirty-five dollars a month with bonuses. It's yours."

"Ectually, sir," Johanna said, quickly, as Penny visibly weighed up three and a half thousand United States dollars a month against the prospect of a lot of hard work. "I have a different idea for Penny's skills. One potentially worth a lot more money."

She stepped forward and began talking in terms of figures and amounts. Ridcully listened. As did Penny, the potential dawning on her.

"So you are saying. You set up a Cheesecake Factory here in Ankh-Morpork. You make the blessed things on a big scale. People buy them. Miss Penny from Pasadena here is the managing director. Suitably guided and advised by people such as yourself, of course."

"Exectly so, sir. I envisage with the right financial becking, the University could recoup its initial investment in the Trevelling Engine within a year. You have just witnessed twelve rendomly selected students appreciate the teste, end all are clamouring for more. These things will sell. The new railways mean they cen be exported widely. And Penny, wouldn't you rather be working for yourself end taking a share, not a wage?"

"Hmmmph." Ridcully said, thoughtfully. "So with you having rather neatly got young Stibbons orf the hook there, you are now asking us to add further investment capital from which we will reap a continuing dividend. And you are going to see other potential shareholders looking for investment possibilities."

"Yes, sir. Older colleagues at the Guild of Essessins who are contemplating retirement and looking to meximise their incomes. I myself em prepared to loan Penny up to five thousand dollars which she cen call her personal stake. Es time goes on, she cen progressively buy me out, so thet a lerger share of the business becomes completely hers, but she will begin to make a profit es soon es the first items are sold."

Penny's jaw dropped open. There really was no cheesecake on this world, then. So she could copyright the recipe. Johanna was right. Big bucks beckoned. She wondered if HEX would help her take it back to Earth with her so she could enjoy it there. Hell of a commute to work every day, she thought. Still, can't be worse than Interstate One-Ten outta Pasadena to L.A.

And the dopplering hum started again as the Travelling Engine returned.

"STIBBONS!" Ridcully bellowed. "I want a word with you!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Travelling Engine reappeared, taking up most of the available floor space in Leonard Hofstadter's office at Caltech. Nobody noticed. Neighbours were used to strange sounds and light shows from the Physics Department. Sheldon Cooper, arms folded and balefully staring, glowered at Leonard. Raj and Howard were also crowding the limited available space, along with Ruth N'Kweze.

"So you get to see the alien world first. And you even get to see the University that was capable of creating this incredible machine." Sheldon said. Everything in his body language quivered with envy.

"I'm not first, Sheldon. Lucy went a night or two ago, remember? And Penny's there right now." Leonard said. He was nervous. Ponder had been briefing him as best he could. This Unseen University sounded like one hell of a place. He was comforted by the fact Penny would be there too. So he wouldn't be alone.

"'Sides, if you hadn't fouled it up, Sheldon, you might be higher up the list!" Raj snarked.

"Yeah, and by all accounts you don't get eight gees of gravity slamming you down." Howard added. Getting into space safely without all the inconvenience of rocket travel fascinated him. He dearly wanted to go up himself. Especially if he could come down again at a second or two's notice.

"If all goes well you'll be back again within a couple of minutes by this clock on this planet." Ruth added, practically. She was in no hurry to return to the Disc. She was liking it too much here in this California.

"No doubt with stories to tell." Sheldon grumped. "Well. Off you go, then. I expect we will see you again in two or three minutes, according to subjective local time. You do realise this contravenes and reverses the expected results according to the Special Theory of Relativity? Which states that time spent elsewhere in the Universe passes normally for those in transit, but millions of years will pass in that part of the universe remaining at a stable fixed point?"

"Only when travelling at a significant sub-fraction of the speed of light, Sheldon. The Travelling Engine bypasses all that somehow and exploits other laws yet to be formulated."

++Albert Einstein also postulated ways around his framework of space and time might be discovered.++ HEX said, smoothly. ++He was aware the parameters can be changed. ++ Shall we proceed?++

Leonard and Ponder took their seats. Howard said something about telling him what the chicks are like over there. Raj advised them to stop and look at the turtle on the way in. And then they were gone.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wayne Drooley relaxed and tried to enjoy his morning. Being repeatedly floored by smaller and slighter girls who'd been doing the course for far longer than he had was new to him. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not. Although he was holding his own with some of the lads and building confidence in these new fighting skills.

Miss Smith-Rhodes moved among the sparring pairs, offering criticism here, correction of a grip there, demonstration of a different technique somewhere else…. Drooley wondered if this was designed to tell him something. He knew she was keen for him to remain at the school after he turned fifteen, and Take Black. Bill, Mr Bradlofrudd, was also keen for him to stay on. Wayne Drooley wasn't a great one for introspection. But he suspected Miss Smith-Rhodes, who was pretty much OK as teachers went, was in some obscure way well-disposed to him and considered him one of her favourites, if she could be said to have favourites.

He grunted, and parried a chop from Anthony Bradley, then followed through with the knee. He liked this sort of fighting, no rules, you did what the moment called for and went with the flow. Kravmarger, Miss had called it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Explain this, Stibbons."

It was Ponder's worst nightmare. Caught red-handed on the Travelling Engine, rematerializing in the HEM and finding Ridcully waiting for him. With the invoice. Which he'd somehow found.

"Errr…." he managed.

Leonard Hofstadter sat uneasily in his seat, swayed slightly and lightly moaned as the thlabber moment took hold. Ridcully spared him a glance.

"Damn near eight thousand dollars, lad. Of University money."

He waved the invoice in Ponder's face and scowled meaningfully.

Leonard, who was beginning to take interest in his surroundings, looked up at the huge bearded bear of a man in Wizard's robes, and saw a combination of Dumbledore and Prince Vultan of the Hawkmen. Had Ridcully thrown back his head and roared "Gordon's ALIVE?" at the heavens, he would not have been surprised.

Ridcully allowed Ponder a few long-drawn-out moments of squirming on the hook. Then he relented.

"Got a pen? Or a pencil? Good."

He accepted a pen from Leonard, looked at it curiously for a second or two, then scribbled something in the margin of the invoice and handed it back to Ponder. As Ponder looked at the invoice incredulously, Ridcully handed the pen back to Leonard.

"Curious device." he remarked, conversationally. "Writes very smoothly, I have to say. Roundworld make?"

"Errr… yes, sir." Leonard said. Ridcully scrutinised him.

"Got somebody else from the Roundworld over here. You two know each other?"

Penny was signalling a welcome to Leonard as she guarded the second cheesecake from those who would eat it. Johanna had walked over to Ponder. He showed her the amended invoice.

"Epproved. M. Ridcully." she read.

Ridcully smiled.

"Get a wedding ring on her finger, soon as you're able, Mr Stibbons." he said. "Young women capable of saving your bloody life – and willing to do so – are hard to find. You generally only get one. And that's if you're lucky. Half an hour ago I was bloody furious. Luckily for you, young Johanna showed up and explained to me that you made a prudent investment on behalf of the University, which is capable of payin' for itself several times over. Lose this young lady, and I will revert to me previous default position of being bloody angry."

He turned to Leonard.

"Mustrum Ridcully. Arch-Chancellor of this bloody University and answerable to the Patrician for everything that happens within these walls. Since you appear to know Miss Penny from Pasadena, I'm inclined to be favourably disposed towards you. And you loaned me a bloody good pen. You can start by introducing yerself."

"errr… Doctor Leonard Hofstadter, sir. Department of Physics. California Institute of Technology."

Leonard dealt with President Seibert. He saw something of the same, and potentially more powerful and terrifying, in Prince Vultan-Dumbledore. Whose eyes narrowed slightly as he frowned down on Leonard.

"Physics." he repeated, as if it were a long-dead fish and every bit as welcome in the room. "Am I right in thinking that you use words like "quantum" and "uncertainty" a lot in the course of everyday discourse? That you are, metaphorically, a custodian of the quantum engineer's toolbox, and know what all the spanners and screwdrivers are for?"

"err… you would be right in so saying, sir, yes."

"And then you met Stibbons here. And discovered you had a lot in common. Can't say I'm surprised."

Ridcully led Leonard over to a blackboard. The symbols were slightly different. But Leonard realised he was dealing with a statement of the Aharonov-Bohm effect, as it applied to the meeting of two powerful forces and the seemingly random interference patterns that were generated when the wavefronts collided.

"You can make sense of this sort of thing, can you?" Ridcully remarked. "Can't get me head round it meself. Fundamental problem in magic. When two spells collide and you get random sub-spells thrown out."

Leonard found himself spitting on a finger, erasing a symbol and a sub-bracket, and correcting the math. It was second nature to him. A junior wizard made an "ahhh….." noise as if seeing something completely obvious for the first time.

"The random factors always exist." Leonard found himself saying. "But it may be possible to predict the form they will take in certain specified circumstances. To narrow down the variables if you know the original waveform modulations. Errr…."

Ridcully patted him on the shoulder.

"Lad, I can see why Stibbons brought you here." Ridcully said, kindly. "You'll fit right in, in this place."

"There are other reasons, sir." Ponder said. He quickly explained about the Lucy situation and his realisation that Roundworlders, living on a world with no magic, could be latently magical without ever once having the opportunity to find out.

Ridcully turned and smiled at Johanna.

"So you were behind that, were you?" he said, genially. "Caused no end of a stir in the Times, it did! Front-page article. Slow news week, mind you." He turned to Ponder and Leonard again.

"So. You suspect Doctor Hofstadter here has some useful magical talent and you want to test it out. You realised even on Roundworld he could see the octarine, for instance. Sensibly, you brought him to the right people."

Ridcully paused and looked at Leonard.

"Show me." He said, flatly.

"Huh?" Leonard said, nonplussed. Penny gasped. Ponder took charge.

"Leonard. Close your eyes. Visualise… a flame. A ball of fire. Imagine the heat. The colours. Take it slow and steady."

Leonard saw the fireball on the inner screen behind his eyes. To his surprise it formed in surprisingly vivid yellow, orange and red. He rotated it. It was spherical and had a dimension of depth.

"Now project it out. Imagine it forming in the air ten feet in front of you…."

"Great Om on a crutch!" somebody yelped. Student wizards scattered out of the way. For the fireball was there. Penny shrieked. Leonard opened his eyes and blinked.

"Did I do that?" he asked, blinking. The fireball drifted off.

"Don't lose control!" Ponder said, insistently. "Hold it steady. Now imagine it moving…. You control it. Good."

The fireball moved in an unsteady circle around Leonard, who felt as if he were at the controls of a radio-controlled model. Then it blinked out of existence. Leonard staggered slightly.

"Sorry, lad, but not in here." Ridcully said, gently. "Too many flammable things, you follow? I had to use me over-ride there. Now, young Hofstadter. See that blank white-painted wall over there? As a less dangerous experiment. Visualise in your mind something you really, really, want. Something that moves your head and yer heart. Imagine it as a picture on that wall. A moving picture, even. Now paint it there. Go!"

"Leonard!" Penny shrieked. The picture was of her.

"Keep it clean, lad. Decency, you follow?"

The head-and-shoulders picture of Penny appeared to recede back. To her relief, she was fully clothed. She was standing next to an older Leonard, who seemed happy, healthy and prosperous. Then she realised that in the wish-fulfilment picture, she was heavily and obviously pregnant. She was holding the hand of an obvious child, who was surprisingly indistinct, almost in silhouette.

"Children in potentio." Ridcully remarked. "But not born yet. That makes sense."

"Leonard, remind me to talk to you later about some of the things goin' on in your head." Penny said, as the picture faded out. Ridcully smiled genially at her.

"There could be a lot worse things, m'dear." he said, mildly. "A noble aspiration, if I may say so."

He nodded at Ponder.

"Well, I'm satisfied." he said. "I judge we take Doctor Hofstadter on as a post-graduate Fellow of this University, and we give him trainin' in handling late-onset magical ability. Patrician's not going to be happy if we knowingly let him loose on these streets with magic he doesn't yet know how to handle. Find him some rooms here and issue a robe. Staff too, in the fullness. Oh, and Doctor Smith-Rhodes? Before Miss Penny from Pasadena walks out on our streets, I'd be obliged if you find her suitable clothin' to wear. She's makin' some of the men here a bit uncomfortable, if you follow. Take her out as she's dressed now, and she'll start a riot. Which means Sam Vimes gets annoyed, as well as his Lordship. "

"I believe I have clothing nearby, sir." Johanna said. Ridcully grinned.

"Yes. Mrs Whitlow tells me a lot of dresses and women's underthings and suchlike have appeared in Professor Stibbons' wardrobe! Since she doesn't judge him to be the sort of fellow who wears them himself, she thinks they've got to be somebody else's. A young woman of about your height and build, she suspects. I'm guessin' you've got a key? Be obliged if you get the young lady dressed for Ankh-Morpork. Some chaps get a bit overcome by bare legs in public."

"Yes, sir." said Johanna. "The other cheesecake. On our way, I propose dropping it off et the kitchens with strict instructions it goes out on the Feculty's Elevenses trolley, with the cake selection."

"Good idea, m'dear. Orf you both go! Leave young Hofstadter with me for now, I assure you both we'll keep him safe."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seven thousand words…. The next part of Johanna and Penny's adventures in Ankh-Morpork will have to be carried over. In which another investor backs the Cheesecake Factory (Ankh-Morpork) and Vetinari takes a direct interest. He is yet, I remind my readers, to encounter Sheldon Cooper…. Still plotting that one!

(1) "I will swear to any Gods you like that this boy's brains are in his ankles and feet, if they're anywhere at all!" – Mr Mycroft, Maths master.

(2) This had surprising results. His specialised vocabulary earned him approving nods from Monsieur LeBalouard, who privately admitted getting this boy to learn any Quirmian at all was an achievement, even if it revolved around football, knowing the crowd chants, and being able to say Qui est le bâtard de porter du noir? and to cap this off by calling the aforementioned match adjudicator un branleur aveugle. " I just wish his Quirmian wasn't quite so… vernacular. " LeBalourd added. Madame Deux-Epées had at first been rendered speechless at Drooley's command of demotic Quirmian, but had recovered, to broaden his vocabulary still further with some choice phrases and bon mots of her own. The sort she'd heard her father use whenever there'd been a mishap in the forge.

(3) "Well, can you imagine him on a dig?" Alice had demanded. "No sense of finesse. All he knows is using a bloody big spade."

(4) She had assigned full marks for this and noted that mother gorillas are usually protective of their young, whilst the dominant silverback male can get edgy around possible competition. His surprisingly gentle touch with the young had not gone un-noticed. And Johanna liked students who were good with animals.

(5) "I know, George." Lord Downey had said, over a sympathetic sherry. "Some pupils are naturally disruptive. And you have a right to exclude them from your classes, as an absolute last resort. But we can't afford to have this sort of thing spreading." Downey had then suggested that, for the look of the thing, young Drooley be formally disciplined for insubordination. "Nothing too drastic, as we're playing the Thieves' Guild on Saturday afternoon and we can't afford to lose the team captain. But if he spends the allocated lesson time in the Library and writes you a thesis on sports and games in the Latatian Empire, we can call it a course credit at the end of the year? Give him a teaching assistant he likes to supervise and guide, and find the books for him? Good, we're agreed."

(6) Johanna had had to fight to get Drooley admitted to her advanced class in unarmed combat. "That's all we need." other teachers had grumbled. "Drooley being taught to fight effectively. Ye gods, that's like running crossbows to the Apaches!"

(7) see my story Nature Studies.

(8) Every eating establishment in the Multiverse has an urban myth about the eccentric millionaire who dropped in one day, "not here, but to another place this guy worked at who knew a guy I worked with at Brannigan's. loved the food and the service so much he tipped his server half a million bucks. No word of a lie, true as I'm standing here!" It's this sort of thing that gives waitresses a reason to go to work every evening. It could be you….

(9) But not those skills, the ones that had resulted in Joan's being welcomed into the big happy Guild family. Those were for students on the Black, the girls with aptitude, the ones learning that the way to stop a man's heart was through his stomach. Junior pupils learnt how to cook. Senior students learnt how to cook with prejudice.

(10) Jennifer had concluded a satisfying inhumation soon after graduating, getting a rather fat Pasha who had come to Guild notice with some of her special Klatchian Delight. Klatchian Delight is indeed flavoured with rosewater. Jennifer had seen the potential of using some of Doctor Davinia Bellamy's more unique blooms. Both Joan and Davinia had expressed satisfaction in a clearly gifted student who had learnt a lot in both Botany and Domestic Science, and was capable of cross-relating the two so creatively. Junior students didn't learn about those sort of skills, either.

Chapter 28: The Hacky-Sack Postulate

Wheeler-Bell Twenty-Eight

The Hacky-Sack Egress Serendipity

In which Sheldon does something very Sheldon-like

Prologue: Douglas Corrigan Middle School, Galveston (1), Texas. Some fourteen years before the Present.

Billy-Bob Bellmann was not an unkind man, despite his occupation as PE Coach in a typical American middle school. He recognised he was working with just kids, and sought to manage them with a combination of encouragement, firm handling, and enthusiasm. He promised himself one day he might even have kids of his own, once the right God-fearin' Christian gal came along. And he enjoyed his job. Kids already had a whole bunch of energy. Part of the job of the PE Coach was to help 'em burn it off, so they could sit up straight in regular sit-down classes and not get antsy.

Billy-Bob tried to get the kids engaged and enthusiastic by matching them up with sporting activities they could be good at. Builds confidence, right? Ain't no sense in makin' them miserable and vowing to give up any sort of sporting activity after they left school. There were too many fat Americans already. Better they should learn to enjoy physical exertion and get into regular habits of it now. Douglas Corrigan Middle School had a thriving football side. A great baseball presence. Some useful people in track and field. His colleague Susan Baines thought like him and directed the girls into gymnastics, track and field, soccer, cheerleading. Yup, they matched the pupil to the activity. He was proud of that.

But there were always gonna be problems. Square pegs for whom a square hole was not forthcoming. He winced. The Cooper kid. Sweet Baby Jesus, the Cooper kid.

He knew the family. Susan told him Missy Cooper was a natural, one of her stars, co-ordinated, graceful, good at anything. The older brother George had been a mainstay of Douglas Corrigan's football team, a natural line-backer.

But the other one. And he was Missy's twin brother, for goodness' sake! Shouldn't he have got at least some of the same genes for co-ordination and stamina?

PhysEd was the only F on Sheldon Cooper's report card. It was straight A's for anything else. (With the exception of Geography, where he had flat-out refused to dirty his hands with a lot of frankly uninteresting rocks during the Geology module.) And in sciences, you'd have had to invent a brand-new letter, a long way higher up than A. Just for the Cooper boy.

There was no sport that Sheldon could do. Very few that interested him. He'd even said "Mr Bellmann, I consider this a complete waste of valuable time that I could spend doing more productive things somewhere else. I fail to see the relevance of this to my future career. If you don't mind, I'll sit over here and read my copy of Erwin Schrödinger's Life and Thought."

Informed that yes, I do mind, mister, the Cooper boy had been sent to the Principal, and his mother was called for. Even then he'd called the Principal out on his Bachelor of Science degree, and challenged him on what sort of science he'd actually studied. And how much he'd actually remembered. Most of his teachers had similar stories. It also didn't help that he called them on their errors in class. Especially the science teachers, who dreaded classes with Sheldon Lee Cooper in them. One was on long-term sick leave and another was actively soliciting early retirement.

The widow Cooper had actually asked Billy-Bob if there was nothing he could do to get Sheldon Lee interested in some sort of sport. And hell, this was a close-knit community where everyone knew everyone else. Even went to the same Church on a Sunday. He knew the widow Cooper from church. A damn fine-looking woman. Rumours had it that before she'd found Jesus she would reliably put out for a bottle of strawberry wine and a car ride. Which was how she'd ended up with George Cooper Senior (deceased).

It had been agreed that Sheldon Lee Cooper should do some sort of physical exercise. Billy-Bob agreed it should be something he liked. It would make things easier. But the problem was simple. There appeared to be nothing the boy was good at. He disdained running or jumping and couldn't throw things. The school didn't have a swimming pool to send him to. If asked to climb rope he'd fix you with one of his looks and ask "why?"

And then, whilst the rest of the class were playing basketball, Cooper found the hacky-sacks. Billy-Bob Bellmann watched as the boy picked one up, shook it experimentally, considered it for a while, then tried kicking it. It went upwards rather than forwards. Incredibly he caught it on his foot. He flipped it up again….

From then on, whenever Sheldon Cooper's class were scheduled for PE, Cooper would play the "keepy-uppy" game with a hacky-sack. He rarely got much further than forty consecutive kicks with either foot before it fell to earth. But he'd pick it up again, shrug and start over. For the whole of the one hour, or one-and-a-half hour, Phys Ed timetable slots. Billy-Bob didn't quibble. 'Least the boy was getting some physical exercise. It was doing his co-ordination some good. And he seemed happy enough. It even got him a B+ on his report card. Mary Cooper had been ecstatic.

And then, at a staff meeting, the Principal said that Mr Cooper was absurdly ahead in the sciences for a boy of eleven. Absurdly ahead in everything, in fact, except Geography. Apparently he loved the idea of national flags and couldn't get enough of them, but was openly scornful about geology, asking why he needed to know about mere rocks. And as Mr Spencer, the Geography teacher, remarked, the subject wasn't just political geography. It needed a grounding in geology and Earth Science too.

"No wonder Johnson Elementary were so glad to pass him onto us". somebody said. There were weary nods of assent. Sheldon Cooper had been in middle school for a year. It felt longer, somehow.

The Principal then said that a major university in Texas had heard of the boy prodigy. Houston, in fact. They wanted to take over his education and see if the boy could do an accelerated Bachelor of Science diploma. He had no objection to that, in fact he thought it would be a thing of some prestige for Douglas Corrigan Middle School of Galveston, and all we needed to do was to ensure Mr Cooper was capable of sitting his SAT's several years ahead of time, therefore graduating early and getting done with the public school system. (2)

"Teachers at Galveston's High Schools will thank us, ladies and gentlemen." The Principal said, soberly. There was general assent. Everyone in the teachers' lounge had, at some point or another, sought to educate Sheldon Lee Cooper.

And Sheldon passed his SAT's with a score of 1585. Then fretted as to how and where he'd dropped fifteen points. But he was done with the public school system and would never have to pretend interest in dumb rocks nor attend another PE lesson, ever again. His life as a physicist began here, age almost-twelve. He took a hacky-sack with him. Even to Caltech.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna led Penny through a series of staircases and corridors. Penny was aware of attracting the attention of every man they passed, and that not all of them were wearing Harry Potter wizarding robes. Oddly enough, the women they encountered appeared most censorious and disapproving. Penny noticed to a woman they were all wearing ankle-length skirts and modest blouses beneath what looked like maids' aprons. Reflexively she twitched down the hem of her skirt to just above her knees.

"Mrs Whitlow's domestic steff." Johanna said. "With luck we'll evoid Mrs Whitlow herself." She looked around, as if to make sure. Penny twitched slightly at the suggestion there was a woman out there who could frighten Johanna.

"She hes got Firm Views." Johanna explained, managing to articulate the capital letters. "Including ebout how women should dress. Which is why I need to get you into something different."

"Ah-huh." Penny said. "Can't help noticing there's no electricity?"

"Just follow me…." Johanna said.

They eventually arrived in a wider corridor that looked better tended and furnished. The doors were spaced quite a long way apart, suggesting bigger apartments.

"Senior wizards' eccomodation." Johanna explained. She stopped at a door. The nameplate said Reader in Non-Volatile Intelligence, closely followed by Cantoride Speaker in Slood Refurgance and quite a few others. In fact, eighty percent of the oak of the door was nameplate. Penny wondered about the buckets full of coal stacked outside.

"Ponder's rooms." Johanna said. Then she spoke to the door.

"Two to enter. You know my voice."

"Yes, ma'am." said a tinny metallic voice.

"End don't call me ma'am."

"Not to call you ma'am, ma'am. Understood."

Penny heard a mechanism click and saw the door swing open.

"Did that door just speak?" she asked.

"Ja. Technomentic lock. Keyed to voices. I hed a little trouble with it et first. Verdemmte thing claimed it could not understend my eccent." (3)

"Ah-huh." Penny replied. She'd heard Barry Kripke at Caltech also had ongoing trouble with voice recognition programs. Wisely she refrained from comment. And she was still shocked at having seen Leonard perform two impossible acts of magic. Effortlessly. After that, talking locks were no big deal.

"So tell me about clothes here, sweetie. Oh, wow! Ponder's apartment?"

The rooms were big and spacious and minimally furnished. They hadn't always been this way: Ponder had inherited Dean Henry's old suite which had been packed with the clutter of sixty years. His first month had been spent packing everything up and getting it trucked over to Pseudopolis, where Henry had taken residence as Arch-Chancellor of Brazeneck University. Characteristically, Ponder was still waiting for the promised reimbursement from Henry for the carriage costs, but had reasoned it was best to pay up front in shifting the whole damn lot and starting again from the bare walls. At Johanna's prompting he'd also invested in a new bedframe and mattress, as the old one sagged horribly in the middle after sixty years of Henry. The formidable Mrs Whitlow had sent in a crack team of commando cleaners, and prodded Ridcully into having the carpet replaced and the walls and ceiling redecorated.

Ponder Stibbons had simply been too busy to accumulate a new layer of wizards' clutter, but the bookcases were well stocked and everything was routinely tidy. Penny nodded her approval.

"Office end study in front, living quarters behind." Johanna explained. "I'll show you where I keep my clothes. You'll hev to wear my things until we cen go shopping end get you set up. My treat. But you cennot go out looking like thet."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So I've got magic?" Leonard said to Ponder. Despite the evidence of the fireball and the thought-projection, he couldn't believe it himself. Up until now, magic had been something that happened in movies, comic-books, fantasy fiction and Mystic Warlords of Ka'a.

Ponder nodded, soberly.

"I saw it when I realised you could see into the octarine." He said. "That's the eighth colour, by the way. It stands a little way apart from the other seven. Like the noble gases on the Periodic table."

"It's on the Periodic Table too, in this world." Leonard said, then wondered where that had come from.

Ponder looked at him in surprise.

"Yes. There's a noble gas. Octium. And a more reactive variant, Octogen. Both octarine-coloured. I won't ask how you knew that, by the way."

They walked on in silence.

"Better find you a room." Ponder said. "That's never a problem here. Trust me on that."

He consulted a clipboard.

"545's free. Has been for three years."

"Ah-huh. Look, do you guys charge deductions? Food and board? University accommodation's deductible at Caltech."

Ponder grinned.

"Not here. It's one of the perks. Actual pay doesn't happen until you're senior, or the Faculty vote you a stipend. But you get full board. Laundry. Change of bedlinen. All free. A lot of wizards keep rooms here for the perks, and accept there's no actual money involved. You'd be surprised how big a draw that is in this city."

He tripped over a bucket and regained his footing awkwardly.

"Free coal, too. Long story. For now you can have some of mine. I get plenty."

"And, errr. Penny?" Leonard asked.

"No actual rule against it." Ponder said, realising. "Well, there is. In theory, no female guests between eleven at night and seven in the morning. But so long as you're discreet. The Arch-Chancellor knows Johanna stays over and he doesn't mind. He likes Penny too. That helps. Here we are. 545."

The door bore an engraved brass nameplate which read Emeritus Chair of Trans-Temporal Portals.

"You might as well leave that up." Ponder said. "It'll get you a bucket of coal for the fire every day. You know, that's quite fitting, as you arrived here through a transdimensional link? Shame Professor Rothman's not around any more."

"Hey, we had a Professor Rothman at Caltech!" Leonard said. "Lost his mind and stopped wearin' clothes. Coincidence, huh?"

Ponder agreed, recovering a vague memory of Unseen's Professor Rothman. Eccentric, yes, but fully clothed. He'd been found by Kasandra the cleaner, he recalled, slumped dead underneath the special window. The rooms he'd occupied had been vacant ever since. He decided not to tell Leonard. The death had been put down to that rarest of things for a wizard, natural causes. Most of his stuff had gone to next of kin, been auctioned off to other wizards, put in store, or thrown away. The bookcase had been left, though. The Librarian had looked it over and assessed the books were commonplace and not worth the Library's attention. He had not found Rothman's professional notes about his work, though. Ponder assumed these had been stored trans-temporally and were now lost.

"How do I get in, Ponder? Can't see a keyhole."

"Technomantic lock." Ponder said. He'd been proud of the innovation: imp-activated locks keyed to the voices and thaumic signatures of approved users. New or upgraded rooms in Residences got them fitted as standard. It saved all the aggravation over losing physical keys.

"Lock? Do you hear me? Invoking Master Key Stibbons. Do you respond?"

"Hearing you, guv'nor." said a tiny metallic voice.

"By my authority. The next voice that you hear will be that of Doctor Leonard Hofstadter. He will have everyday authority to open this door and may delegate it to one other person as he pleases. University employees on authorised business also have authority. Do you read me?"

"Understood, guv'nor." said the door-imp. "Go ahead, doc."

"Errr… I'm Leonard Hofstadter. I understand this is to be my room." Leonard said, uneasily.

The door clicked and opened.

"Go right in, doc." The imp said. "Acerian, are you? I can tell it from your accent."

Leonard looked at Ponder.

"Aceria's a region on the Disc." he explained. "People there have similar accents to Americans. Shall we go in? You can introduce Penny to the lock later."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny had to admit she didn't look too bad in the clothes. They had a classy old-time look to them. She did a twirl in front of the full-length mirror to admire herself. Yup. Ankle-length skirt. Not a drawback here. Figure-enhancing round the butt, too. Not Victorian, but the time that came after that. Around 1910, she thought. Stern white blouse. High neck. OK, so it made her look like an old-time librarian. But the bustier, that sort of external corset, cinched her waist in and pushed her boobs out and… wow.

She took a few steps in the lovely high-heeled boots, the sort Johanna said she had difficulty walking in. It was nothing to Penny. She'd worn higher. And wow, this place did women's boots. Johanna had loaddsa pairs. And they shared a shoe-size.

Her blonde hair had been rolled and bunned and secured in a net with attractive pins in mother-of-pearl. Penny felt like a fashionable Lady of ages past.

Meanwhile Johanna was at the desk. She tapped the top in a couple of seemingly random places, then felt under the rim as if she was activating, or perhaps de-activating, something. Then a drawer opened. Penney sashayed over to look. She gasped.

"Oh, it's you." said the green-skinned imp, sitting in a very small easy-chair reading a very small book. Penny blinked. Was that a bed… and behind that a screened-off section with a little door, that had a half-moon cut-out in it….

"Hey, Eric!" Johanna said.

"Miss." The imp said. "You want some cash, right?"

The bulk of the desk-drawer's contents were neatly stacked banknotes and bags of loose change. Folded and empty brown pay-packet envelopes went into a different stack.

"Ja." Johanna said. "Cen you edvise Professor Stibbons thet I em borrowing four hundred dollars? He knows I repay. Elso, remind him thet he is to make time to pey this into his eccount et the Royal Benk. There must be over three thousand dollars in here!"

"I'm his security guard, miss." Eric the imp said. "Nothin' gets past me!"

The imp saluted as Johanna counted out four hundred dollars, which she folded into a purse. This went into a pocket on her Assassin's working belt. It would be very safe there.

"Tell him I will escort him to the Benk." she said. "End he will make time for this."

"Right-ho, miss."

Then the imp looked up.

"Who's your friend, miss?" he asked. Johanna smiled. It wasn't just human males who were stopped in their tracks by Penny.

"Hi, little guy." Penny said, recovering herself. Hell, Johanna said not everybody's human over here. This has gotta be one of the other sortssa guys on this world.

"….." said Eric, blushing a deeper green. Penny extended a hand to him. He hopped on. Penny lifted the ugly but appealing little sprite to her face.

"You're cute!" she said. Eric shuffled, shyly.

"Ja, but still loaded with spells." Johanna said. "Eric, tell Penny whet you would hev done if I hed not got the opening sequence right end you did not know me."

"I'd have exploded in her face, miss." Eric said, shyly. "Kamikazi imp, see. Got bred for this up at the Park. Professor Stibbons chose me out of hundreds!"

"The sensible thing would be to benk his pey." Johanna said. "Ponder is a wizard. Never to do the simple thing, when a more complicated one exists. But Ponder is too busy, too distrected by other things, to do thet. So the pey peckets beck up here. Eric tellies them, looks efter the cesh end provides security. End it ell builds up in this drawer!" (4)

"Yeah. Sheldon's like that." Penny said. "Guy's got thousands hidden in the apartment." She was distracted by Eric.

"You'd have blown up?" she said, her brain catching up with her ears. "Guy! That's terrible, sweetie!"

"Well, stings a bit, but I'd have reconstituted afterwards." Eric said. "But anyone opening me drawers without authorisation… blast damage, see? Gets messy."

Penny carefully and respectfully lifted Eric back into the draw.

"Bring her back sometime, miss?" Eric asked Johanna. "I really like her! It's nice to meet new people!"

Amused, Johanna assured him, and closed the door as he waved goodbye.

"Business." she said, reflecting that if Penny were not fundamentally honest, Eric would willingly put her on the "approved" list for who could access the money. "We take the Engine beck to my rooms et the Guild. Pick up enother betch of cheesecakes. Then we go to make a presentation to our next investor in the Cheesecake Fectory."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leonard liked the large airy suite of rooms he'd been allocated. Ponder assured him the University, now he was an approved Post-Graduate Fellow, would remember where his room was and guide him back there.

"Things shift a bit." he said, mysteriously. "Among other things, that explains why a wizard can always find a room here. We don't run out."

He explained the office, the living room behind, the bedroom, bathroom and basic kitchen.

"Kitchen, in case you need a snack." he said. "But the University provides mealtimes approximately once every two hours, if you're hungry."

"Errr." Leonard said. That seemed to neatly explain why the older Wizards he had glimpsed and briefly met all seemed, to a pointy hat, to be somewhat on the large side. One, introduced as Recent Runes, had jovially said Leonard looked on the scrawny side, but no doubt this will change in a few months, eh, boy?

"But attending all twelve isn't compulsory. You get to choose." Ponder added, hurriedly. Leonard watched him. He appeared to be checking the windows, for some reason.

"Not this one…. Nor this one…" Ponder paused at a third that, outwardly, seemed no different to the others.

"Ah. This is it."

Leonard went over to join him. The other windows all looked out on a cityscape that seemed like something from Earth's past. But this one…

"I have to advise you, Leonard. You're living in a magical university. Every wizard's rooms will have a special window. It opens up to somewhere else. You can change the view. But for some reason we don't yet understand, it seems to resonate to the personality of the wizard who gets the room. Rincewind's opens up over potato fields in Sto Lat, for instance. Mine has a wonderful vista of the Howondalandian veldt. Although I'm guessing my rooms like Johanna, and want to please her. I'm not sure where yours will open up to…"

Leonard's special window seemed set to a gloomy, dimly-lit cellar somewhere. The walls were made of unpainted breezeblock and central heating pipes ran round the walls just below the ceiling.

"Bit boring at the moment. I'm sure the window will attune to you and offer a different place. Just – don't step through it. The moment you do, if you don't take care to mark the portal, you might never find it again. A good rule is if you're not sure, don't do it. Although you'd be amazed how many times that one gets broken."

Leonard nodded. He had no wish to complicate things. He resolved to stay on this side of the window. For now.

"Our next stop's going to be the Library. We need to get you some tickets and issue you a copy of Woddesley to get you started. You'll need to meet the Librarian."

And Leonard can also tell Amy about the M-Word. He'll remember that weird dream Sheldon had and insisted on telling everybody about….
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johana had been unsurprised her alternate was no longer in her own rooms at the Guild. She took time to pet her dogs, and reflected that Ridcully had whistled through his teeth on seeing Penny in Discworld chic, remarking that while it was still capable of causing a wagon-crash on Broadway, at least the gel was appropriately dressed now. Student wizards had still watched her with covert looks of despairing longing.

They flew the Engine back to the Guild, and now they were setting out again with an arm-load of cheesecake boxes. Penny followed Johanna down several flights of stairs and through deserted corridors. Taking a glimpse through one door, she saw a dormitory of some sort. It reminded her of High School trips and educational visits; even though windows were open to air the long dorms, and maids in aprons and mob-caps were industriously stripping and remaking beds, there was a faint smell of recent sleep and morning bodies in the air. Johanna paused and spoke to a senior maid. Something about a girl in Two Raven who was a bit slacker than the rest, not that I want to tell tales, miss, obviously…

"I will speak to her, mrs Cattaract." Johanna promised. "It is not right one of my girls should be making un-necessary extra work for you."

Then they were walking over a courtyard with high ancient-looking buildings on all sides. A man in black wearing a purple sash looked curiously at Johanna, and wished her a good morning. He looked puzzled, as if there was something he couldn't quite work out.

She courteously replied with a "Good morning, Doctor Perdore!" and led Penny on to a newer-looking block.

"The Domestic Science kitchens." Johanna said. "With luck we will cetch the right person before her cless commences."

Penny remembered Home Ed at her High School in Nebraska. It revolved around the skills necessary to become a dutiful farmer's wife, to make home for him and the kids she would surely have – that's AFTER you marry him, ladies - (5) and how to produce good wholesome Plains cookin' in the quantities necessary to succour big men on big farms. Once safely out, she referred to this aspect of her education as "Prairie Home Companion stuff." But she could cook, after a fashion.

Johanna led her into the classroom. A spare, thin, woman in her early fifties, wearing the same purple sash, was at the desk reading lesson notes. She was occasionally conferring with a younger, plumper, woman in her early twenties, who wore the same sash only in purple and silver. Both were dressed in stark black. She looked up and smiled as Johanna entered.

"Johanna! What can I do for you, m'dear?" she said, in a voice that carried. To Penny's eyes, she looked like a bald eagle that was feeling hungry. Her accent, Penny noted, was cut-glass English, like one of the guys on Downton Abbey or Upstairs Downstairs.

"What's so important it's dragged you away from your favourite class? I'd have thought you'd be over on the other side of the premises by now, teaching that appalling Drooley boy and the rest how to fight like street hooligans?"

Her face darkened.

"Not, of course, that the Drooley boy needs any extra tuition in these areas." she added. "That's rather like giving Elves extra lessons in being nasty."

"Oh thet lesson's being covered." Johanna said, with complete honesty and truthfulness, noting Joan quickly touching a spatula. "I've brought somebody you might want to meet, Joan." Johanna said. "Hi, Jennifer! This is Penny…" she hesitated. "Penny from Pesedena."

Handshakes were exchanged. Johanna explained the purpose of the visit. Joan raised an eyebrow.

"Jennifer? Go and get some of the small sideplates, if you please. And cutlery."

The plump girl moved away, without any special haste.

"You've been on that Roundworld place, then?" Joan said, tapping a suntanned arm. "I note it's midwinter here, but you appear to have taken scrupulous care to locate a part that gives you a sun-tan."

"University essignment, Joan." she said. "A place celled Celifornia. Penny's from there."

"I'd never have guessed." Joan said, drily. "Acerian accent, but we can't help that. And you fit our clothes remarkably well, m'dear."

Jennifer returned with plates. Penny opened a cheesecake box. The others leaned in to assess it.

Errr… silly question?" Penny ventured.

Three knives suddenly appeared. She wondered how the freak these Assassin guys did that.

And then Jennifer Swizzel-Matlow and Joan Sanderson-Reeves had a cheesecake moment. Joan, a teacher to her core, recovered enough to listen to the sounds of a class arriving.

"Johanna? Keep 'em at the door for now, m'dear?" she said, indistinctly.

Johanna went to the door, reflecting that cheesecake had caused Joan Sanderson-Reeves to do something she would normally tie somebody else to a turtle for, then light all the burners.(5)  Cheesecake had moved Joan to speak with her mouth full. It was another good sign.

"Tell me how this is made." Joan said, briskly, to Penny. Penny gulped. It was like being in Home Ed classes and having Mrs Simonton single her out for consideration in front of the other girls.

She took a deep breath, and gave Joan a quick verbal summation.

"So fairly straightforward, then." the eagle decided. "Good-oh. Help Jennifer get thirty sideplates and thirty spoons, plate out thirty modest portions, and lay one plate out per desk. Quickly, please, ladies. In fact, I'll assist."

She paused, and murmured

"Cake. Made out of cheese. I can see it working, if it's the right kind of soft cheese, mind you. And such a novel concept!"

When Miss Smith-Rhodes was signalled to allow the thirty mainly female pupils into the teaching kitchen, they were surprised to find a plate on each desk. With a serving of… something… on it. Knowing the teaching Mrs Mericet and Miss Swizzel-Matlow delivered to senior pupils, they were not reassured, especially since the associated spoon meant that they were going to be expected to eat it.

"Good morning, class!" Joan announced with a contented smile. "The original lesson plan today called for sponge cake. Well, we are now going to be doing something different. In front of each one of you is a wholly new idea in dessert. It is perfectly safe to eat and you may well be surprised. Pleasantly so. You will each take your time in eating and savouring the confection in front of you. And no, there will not be seconds. Take your time, do not rush. Because afterwards I require you to write a short essay about what you have eaten. Seek to identify the simple food elements that go into its making. Speculate on how it is cooked. Write your observations as to taste, consistency, flavour, and whether you would eat it again if offered. And again – no seconds. We will devote the first hour of the class to this task, I think. Enjoy yourselves, keep talking to a minimum, while I consult with my colleagues. Be seated."

Joan rummaged into a desk drawer and brought out a purple and silver sash. She handed this to Penny.

"If I scrounge up the ingredients, do you think you could talk these gels – and me - through making these cheesecake things?" she said, in a voice that did not expect the answer "no". "And I need to give 'em a name. For their stand-in teacher."

Johanna made a suggestion.

"Everything looks better in Quirmian." she said. She wrote it down.

"Miss Penélopé de Pasadène." Joan read. "Good-oh. In keeping with the School ethos. Well, miss de Pasadène, let's scale up the ingredients we need, shall we? Jennifer, shout up a couple of porters with a hand-truck, would you, send them to the Guild kitchen, my authority?"

Several hours later, cheesecake emerged. The pupils had reacted well to Miss de Pasadène, appreciating her informal approach and the way she'd freely used familiar terms like "guys" and "sweetie". Joan thanked them for their attention, promised they'd get to eat some of their creations, the better ones, and sent them off.

"Well, I'm convinced." she said to Penny and Johanna. "Put me down for… seven thousand dollars? And if I were you, get to Thunderbolts and get this patented. Draw up a contract. There are premises on Baker Street that are vacant. Penny, m'dear, you'll need to be a Guild member. Mandatory, I'm afraid. What's next for you both?"

Johanna took a look at the dark cloaked figure standing in the doorway. She sighed and said

"Hi, Sharon."

Then, to Penny and Joan

"I have a feeling we are being invited to the Pelece. Perheps the Derk Clerk who hes brought the invitation might eppreciate a slice of cheesecake before we set off to see Lord Vetinari?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sheldon Cooper, piqued that he was not first choice for a visit to the Discworld, went down to the cellar room which had caused so much speculation among his friends.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

He kept up the rhythm as he deftly flipped the hackysack up and down on his instep. It was his way of getting physical exercise and blowing off the day's irritation. Something he'd done ever since middle school. He could let the lower motor functions carry on the mindless exercise and let the parts of his brain that really mattered perform the interesting stuff.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Idly he wondered what had happened to Mr Bellmann. He might have been a PE Coach, but by normal human standards he hadn't been a bad man. And he'd let Sheldon amuse himself in a corner of the gym, unattended, free to his own devices, while the rest of the class were made to do other things.

Twelve.

Thirteen.

Fourteen.

Fifteen.

Sheldon looked over to the number 43 chalked on the far wall and wondered if this was the day he would exceed it. He smiled at the classic Bazinga! he had pulled on the others, when they had tried to penetrate the secret of the cellar room, when he had realised they were filming him playing the game. He had intercepted their camera and set up some special effects, to make them think he had discovered a portal into a parallel dimension of space-time. He smiled at the memory. Even made his snorting little laugh.

Eighteen.

Nineteen.

Twenty.

Twenty-one.

Sheldon frowned. A glowing spot had appeared on the far wall just below the "43". It grew as he watched, spreading into a classic glowing vortex. He frowned, nearly dropping the sack, but pushed on past thirty. He was pretty sure he had not created this. He would have remembered.

Thirty-three.

Thirty-four.

Thirty-five.

Thirty-six.

He wondered if it was a case of the intriguing visual-field disorder called hemicrania sine dolorosa. (6) Amy had said this happened to people. It was like a migraine without the crippling headache. As a neurological disorder, it fascinated her. He moved his head. No. The vortex did not move with him. Therefore it was on the external side of his retinas. An external phenomena with objective reality. Interesting.

Thirty-nine.

Forty.

Forty-one.

Forty-two.

He would examine it more closely. But first…

Forty-three.

Forty-four.

Forty-five.

Now he could let the sack drop…. He wondered for a querulous second about flesh-eating reptiles. But peering into the vortex, all he saw was a perfectly ordinary sash window about three feet away. It looked open. Excitedly, Sheldon Cooper threw caution aside and stepped through…
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dark Clerk Sharon Higgins, one of Johanna's graduates, politely escorted Johanna, Penny and a couple of boxed cheesecakes through the gates of the guild.

"Palace business, Mr Maroon." Sharon called, politely, to the porter. "Sign us out?"

Maroon waved them out happily, taking the blonde lady in the black dress to be another Palace Dark Clerk in the party. He didn't look to see if more than one Dark Clerk had signed in, and noted "Miss S. Higgins (Palace Secretariat) and one other left with Miss Smith-Rhodes for the Palace, 12:05."

They turned into Filgree Street, right towards Broadway, Sator Square and the Patrician's Palace.

"About half an hour ago, I got the instruction to come out here and collect you. And the, er, Roundworld Visitor. All I know is, Johanna, it's to do with the were-deer thing the other evening." Sharon said. "And of course, His Lordship is interested in any visitors from the Roundworld who make their way here."

She looked at Penny, speculatively.

"Yeah, I'm from there." She admitted. "So this is "take me to your leader", right?"

"I'm afraid so." Sharon said. "But cheer up. He'll find you to be interesting. Trust me!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hell, another six and a half thousand words. The story thickens!

(1) Doesn't exist. But Douglas Corrigan was a pioneering American aviatior and a son of the Oleander City. It isn't unreasonable to have Galveston name a school after him as an example to the kids. Actually one day in 1938 he set out on a routine flight up the east coast to New York. Owing to a series of navigational errors he made landfall in Galway, Ireland, thinking it was the USA. This inadvertent feat of endurance flying got him the nickname "Wrong Way Corrigan".

Also discovered that canonically, Sheldon didn't go to Middle or High School at all - according to information from the show brought together on the TBBT Wikia, he went straight to university from Johnson elementary in Galveston and bypassed two stages of the American public school system. Whoops. Douglas Corrigan Middle School has been invented for this story. I'm assuming that to leave the public school system this early, Sheldon would have been obligated to sit SATS several years ahead of time.

(2) The Scholastic Assessment Tests, a rite of passage largely dreaded by American school students. At the time where I assume Sheldon would have taken his SATs – if only to tick a box on his university enrolment form – the maximum "perfect score" would have been 1600. (today it's 2400). I discovered very, very, few American school pupils get near this. In Sheldon's estimated SATs year, in the late 1990's, only seven people in the whole of the USA scored higher than 1580. Sheldon being one of them makes sense. I think that's right: the Wikipedia article on the SATS is hard to get into and suggests everything gets averaged down to an 800-point scale. In which case if I read it right Sheldon would have scored above 790. American readers with recent or ongoing experience who aren't too traumatised - correct me if I'm wrong! Sheldon's age in 2010 is given, in show, as being 29. Therefore he would have undergone SAT, age eleven-twelve, in around 1991-92. (TBBT Wiki again)

(3) Johanna had tried everything, including Vondalaans: " Open jy bloedige damn deur!" Suspecting the door-imp was being wilfully ignorant, she had shown it an iconograph of a Golden Wowser swamp dragon, and pointed out its flame is at twice the melting point of brass and can be precisely directed. Would the lock like her to go and fetch one and coal it up? There is lots of coal here, look, end I know where to get a dregon. She still considered the imp was being passively insolent, but at least the door opened to her command now.

(4) Especially as Ponder now held the Vice-Chancellery, a salaried position. And payment in lieu for covering the Bursary. And small stipends for twenty-three other academic positions, none of which was a living wage in itself, but which added up every month. As often as not, his pay was delivered by a security detail of Bledlows who politely requested signature here, sir, on the yellow docket. Ponder then threw it in the drawer for Eric to tally, vaguely intending to open that account at the Royal Bank when he found the time. With bed, board and laundry paid for, plus access to expense accounts, Ponder rarely needed actual cash as such.

(5) worlds with other religions might use a descriptive term like "Joan would normally crucify pupils for doing this". But the Discworld has Omnianism.

(6) This exists. I get it. You get a freaky light-show lasting for about an hour, a widening circle of jagged light. No headache, but you're good for nothing much while it's going on. Just relax and watch the fireworks.

Chapter 29: The First Contact Protocol

Wheeler-Bell Twenty-Nine

for all the people who weanted a new chapter!

Wheeler-Bell 29: The first contact protocol (take me to your leader)

Penny meets Lord Vetinari. Leonard learns new skills. And Sheldon explores where that space-time portal comes out.

Amy Farrah-Fowler reviewed the cover story again, saw no flaws with it, and despatched the blood sample for DNA sequencing. The results would be sent back to her within a few days.

"I hope this works out satisfactorily, HEX." she remarked, filing the courier receipt for the sterile chilled package she had just despatched.

++Trust me, Amy++. HEX replied from her computer. ++It is going to a lab which always does a thorough job.++A disinterested technician will glance at the results, one set among hundreds they deal with, and post them back to you.++My research indicates the reason for the test is a distressingly commonplace one.++

Amy nodded. The blood sample was in the name of Luciana Di Remifasolatti, an Italian-American girl who had been adopted shortly after birth and was researching who her real parents were. Apparently nine months before she was born, there had been a confused situation involving an unmarried Italian girl and two men who each had a circumstantial claim to being her father. Acting as her medical contact, Dr Farrah-Fowler had asked for the DNA test to be made on Lucy's blood, as it would have a beneficial effect on the mental well-being of her patient. Whilst the identities of the two putative fathers were known, it was uncertain as to whether their co-operation could be obtained. But at least the patient would be reassured by having her own DNA profile to compare them to, should that ever happen, kept by a sympathetic doctor for when she required it.

The completed profile would be sent to Amy and no copies would be kept by third parties, for reasons of doctor-patient confidentiality. HEX could then follow through by ensuring an accident happened to any computer records of the request ever having been made. Lucy's secret would be kept. Crucially, Amy's professional ass would be amply covered.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny, Johanna and the Dark Clerk called Sharon set out on the short walk to the Palace. Penny watched the street life with interest. It looked Victorian-bizarre to her. No street lights. No TV aerials. No cars. Just horses and carts. The occasional horse-rider. She realised there was a complete absence of exhaust fumes or gas residues. But that smell…

"What smell?" Sharon asked, perplexed. She was a native Ankh- Morpork girl. She knew the score on many things, admittedly. But Ankh-Morporkians do not have a word for "all-pervading bad smell", in much the same way fish have no word for water.

Johanna made a face.

"It's the river, Penny. You get used to it."

"Ah-huh. Pollution problem, huh?"

"Centuries worth. Over a million people live here."

Penny did a double-take as two Clowns passed, their over-large shoes flapping on the pavement. Disbelievingly, she turned to follow them with her eyes. Nobody else on the street seemed to find this odd…

"You really are new round here, aren't you?" Sharon said, sympathetically.

"You'll see stranger. Trust me on this." Johanna added.

Then she sighed resignedly. Penny saw her friend go into what she recognised as a not-quite fighting, but if anyone wants to try their luck posture. Sharon, the Dark Clerk, also braced herself.

The five men blocked their way. They were shabbily dressed and looked to Penny like extras from a Victorian costume drama, right down to a variety of wheel-caps and battered stovepipe hats. They were all in their late teens or early twenties. It was like looking at a grown-up version of Fagin's mob from Oliver Twist.

"Good afternoon, ladies!" said the spokes-Fagin, ironically tipping his hat. Replacing it on his head, there was suddenly a vicious looking club in his right hand.

"We are your robbers for the day, so if you'll kindly drop any cash, rings, bracelets, other valuables, into the hat what my colleague is holding out…"

Johanna was dressed in her usual khaki. Sharon was in black, but it was the respectable, toned-down, rather unremarkable black of the Palace Secretariat. Penny winced, but remembered the day on Wilshire Boulevard not long ago. If this gal Sharon was also a trained Assassin, then, hell, this should be over inside a minute….

Sharon stepped forward. She spoke in a low reasoned voice.

"I'm not going to get indignant and ask you anything stupid like "Do you know who I am?", because that would be unhelpful and rather egotistic." she said. "But I will ask "Do you know what I am?" Any clues as to my occupation? Little signs, perhaps?"

Johanna flipped back the lapel of her tunic and displayed her Assassins' Guild badge. This was ignored.

"Nah." said the spokesthief. "Valuables, please."

Sharon and Johanna looked at each other and nodded. Penny decided to watch the show and join in if she was needed. These clothes looked good but they didn't allow for free movement, she thought. But a good stamp with this boot-heel on some schmuck's instep…

"Or should I say, Do you know who I work for?" Sharon added, with a little more emphasis.

"Just to clerify." Johanna said, in a pleasant voice. "Are you Official Thieves' Guild or…"

She didn't get to finish the sentence. A sixth person bustled forwards and got between the Thieves and the Assassins. She radiated purpose, energy, and the attitude of a reasonable woman provoked beyond endurance by egregious stupidity.

"Oh, good grief!" she exclaimed, eyeballing the spokesthief. "Are you completely stupid?"

The newcomer was a slim, wiry young woman in her early twenties. She was dressed in mens' clothes, boots, loose trousers, some sort of tunic and a leather jacket. Her hair was an attractive auburn-red, cut into a short bobbed style. She had a lively intelligent face and a boyish demeanour.

"Johanna, Sharon, please don't hit anybody yet?" she asked. "I'll just put these goons right on a few things."

"I leave it in your hands, Steffi." Sharon replied, pleasantly. She and Johanna relaxed a little, stepping down to perhaps Defcon Three. Johanna gave Penny a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Errr… what are we getting wrong, Miss?" the spokesthief said, perplexed. His manner was one of a student to a supervising lecturer. "They're marks. No exemption badges. That ain't Assassin black. The other girl's got a big knife, yes, but if we all rush her she'll never be able to draw it in time. Looks too big and heavy for her, anyway…"

Steffi Gibbet turned briefly to Johanna and shook her head. It was angry but apologetic.

"Remedial class, is it?" Sharon said, mysteriously to Penny's ears. "Slow learners?"

"Aren't you glad I was asked to supervise you?" Steffi said, eyeballing each Thief in turn. "This isn't Chirm any more, you know. It's the big city. And let you out alone on these streets, you get it dead wrong first time out. I don't know. Right now I should call this off, walk you round to God Street and get you kitted out as sodding clowns! You'd live longer, for one thing!"

The five Thieves couldn't hold the angry girl's gaze for very long and all five looked sheepishly down at the pavement as she expounded her theme, loudly, articulately and inventively. A crowd was gathering, sensing street theatre.

"Really sorry for the inconvenience, Johanna, Sharon." Steffi said. Her eyes fell on Penny. They lit up. "And to your friend?"

"Miss Penélopé de Pasadène." Johanna said, smoothly, using what Penny realised would be her name on this world from now on. "Penny, for short. We're escorting her. She's from Eceria, new in town."

"New in town." Steffi repeated. "There's a coincidence. So are these herberts. Party from the Guild branch in Chirm. They're here for familiarisation training in the big city. I'm here to escort and act as their tutor in Advanced Thiefcraft."

"So they're Guild members, then." Sharon said. "Lucky for them."

"Lucky for them I'm here to smooth it over." Steffi said, darkly. "You people go and stand over there. Don't move, don't pick fights, and for Ferk's (1) sake, do not go trying to pick fights with Assassins and Dark Clerks."

Steffi took in the looks of dawning "Oh, crap…" realisation.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes here is, despite surface appearance, an Assassin. And let me tell you she's bloody good at it. Miss Higgins is trained as an Assassin. But she's worse. Palace Secretariat. You can tell from the black. Lord Vetinari does not like people who get in the way of his Dark Clerks. He'd want a word with you. Or with what was left of you. And I don't know about Miss de Pasadène, but I'm betting that in this company, she's more than she seems."

Steffi drew breath.

"So piss off out of earshot, but stay where I can see you. I'll take it from here."

"Thanks, Steffi." Sharon said. "I've got instructions to escort these two to His Lordship. He'd raise an eyebrow if we were very late."

Steffi nodded.

"We don't want any raised eyebrows either. So I won't keep you too long."

She turned to Penny and smiled. There was that look in her eyes again, Penny thought…

"Sorry, introductions. Hi, Penny. I'm Steffi Gibbet. I teach at the Thieves' Guild School up the road."

She extended a hand. Penny took it. She noted Steffi seemed reluctant to let go.

"We're old friends." Johanna explained. "We all go to the same hairdresser." (2)

"Better keep it brief, then." Steffi decided. "Johanna, you've got Guild indemnity. So have you, Sharon. So the suicide squad over there can't touch you. I'll make that clear to them. Assassins are exempt. His Lordship makes it clear Dark Clerks are also exempt."

She turned to Penny again.

"I'm really sorry to have to ask." she said. "But…"

Penny felt a sudden existential uncertainty. Johanna stepped forwards.

"I'm efraid you're correct, Steffi. Penny is, et the moment, not covered by eny policy. You would hev been within your rights to rob her."

"Hey!" Penny shouted, feeling suddenly affronted and betrayed. Johanna held up a hand.

"Just so you and the gentlemen over there do not go eway empty-hended." Johanna said. "Penny is one of eight people who will be coming here from Eceria to experience life in this city. On their behalf, end es their escort end bodyguard, I would like to purchase a Pletinum Deal, group cover for all eight."

"Go on." Steffi said. She rummaged in a large pouch at her waist, which Penny noted hung among some nasty-looking daggers and coshes. Incredibly, she brought out a receipt book.

"Perheps I should write the names? Some ere tricky to spell. It would be fester." Johanna offered.

Steffi looked down at a list of interestingly strange names. She tried to pronounce one, faltering over seemingly random syllables.

"Bernadette Ros-ten-kow-ski-Wol-o-witz."

"RostenKOVski." Penny said, keen to make a contribution. "The W becomes a kindda "v"-sound in Polish."

"Thet's a sort of Far Überwaldean lenguage related to Zlobenian." Johanna explained. Steffi nodded. She ripped off the top copy and handed it to Johanna. Slightly over two hundred dollars went the other way. Johanna considered, and added another ten.

"When you shout et your students for being over-confident idiots, do it in a pub end buy them a drink." Johanna requested. "Tell them it's from the little girl with the very big heavy knife."

"Which she does know how to use." Steffi agreed. "or else the little girl would not be carrying a very big knife with her, would she?"

Steffi grinned at Penny.

"Don't want to hold you up." she said. "And I'm inclined to suspect all this is new to you. Johanna can fill you in on how it all works, later? Just a couple of things…."

She rummaged in her pockets.

"Only got one Platinum badge on me." she said, apologetically. "We hardly ever sell them on the street, you see. I can deliver the rest to the Guild for you later, Johanna, if that's OK? Penny, this guarantees you immunity from theft or robbery for a full year, in the street or at home. It's the best insurance deal the Guild offers."

"You're a thief? And you sell insurance against theft? Holy freak!" Penny exclaimed.

"Cuts out the middleman. And some of those insurance brokers are complete bloody criminals, you know? You're better off buying from us. We've got ethics, for one thing. Deal wholesale, if you see what I mean. Just this now. It's a formality. I have to do this, legally, to say an act of Theft occurred under law and Guild Charter."

Steffi unhitched a large cosh from her belt, humming a cheerful tune. She always hummed a cheerful tune when she was concluding a contract. Penny stepped back, alarmed.

"She's new to all this, Steffi." Johanna said. "Demonstrate on me."

Johanna stepped forward and bowed her head submissively. Steffi raised the cosh and brought it down. Johanna felt the barest of token touches on her scalp, then put her hat back on.

"Well… OK, then." Penny said, reluctantly. She stepped forward and closed her eyes. She felt the very lightest of touches on her forehead, with an impression of fingertips brushing her skin. She looked into the smiling face of Steffi Gibbet.

"There, job done! Didn't hurt, did it? Good…"

Steffi lingered over pinning the badge to Penny's blouse. Penny now identified the look in her eyes. Usually only men looked at her that way. The last time she'd seen that look on a woman, Amy Farrah-Fowler excepted, had been on her old High School gym coach. The one who'd taken Penny to that Melissa Etheridge concert that time. (3)

"I'll let you go now." Steffi said. "Hey, Johanna, a girls' night out might be nice!" She smiled at Penny again. "Really love to see you socially, Penny. You know, over a drink."

"Yeah, hey. Sure thing, Steffi. Love that. Let's do lunch." Penny replied, distracted.

As Miss Gibbett marshalled her class of hapless Thieves for the next stage in their education, Johanna and Sharon explained about the Thieves' Guild thing. Penny's mouth dropped open.

"So… you pay them protection money and they agree not to rob you?"

"That's it. Ja." Johanna agreed. "Licenced Thieves are a Guild like us. They hev a job to do end stenderds to uphold. End you hev to take into eccount thet a proportion of their revenue is paid on to the city. Thieves are the tax man here."

Penny digested this.

"Gotta be more honest, huh. Inland Revenue Service mugs you in the street and waves a cosh. Tax-collecting without the frills."

"We elso get unlicenced thieves." Johanna said. "Like the ones on Wilshire when we were shopping. Those you cen deal with directly. Es we did on Wilshire."

They were on an intersection of several very busy roads. On the opposite side, occupying an island all of its own in the middle of the traffic, was a large grand building set in extensive grounds. It rose for at least six storeys. Something about it, to Penny, said "Some sort of royal palace in Europe".

Sharon looked at her workplace without interest.

"Time to present you to His Lordship, I think." She said. "We're late, but if I know His Lordship, he'll already have been informed why."

The three women set about the even more dangerous task of finding somewhere to cross Widdershins Broadway. It topped being accosted by Thieves by several orders of magnitude.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leonard Hofstadter took advantage of being given a quiet time to himself by beginning to read Woddeley's Primer, the first and most essential grimoire issued to student wizards. It was as strange and unworldly as anything he'd ever come across in fantasy fiction and read like the D&D supplementary manual for wizards and mage classes, crossed with Tolkein, Hickman and Weiss, and a large dash of every fantasy novel or gaming system he'd ever come across. Only, he had to remind himself, here it was for real. And he wondered about the way it was all making instinctive sense to him. He also wondered how Penny was getting on. Well, he'd be seeing her later. He hoped.

Chapter Fifteen: Elementary Necromancy

First, you need to get a good spade.

Leonard read on. He was enthralled.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Howard, Raj and Amy met up in the Caltech cafeteria and discussed their mornings over lunch. Guardedly, they speculated on the field trip Leonard was on. HEX had told them they'd be staying for a few days, but he'd ensure Leonard and Penny returned before too much time elapsed on Roundworld.

"Where the hell's Sheldon?" Howard wondered.

Raj glanced at his watch.

"it's half past one." Raj observed. "Probably down in the cellar playing with his hacky-sack."

"Oh." Howard said, without interest, "That."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sharon ushered her guests past the red-coated soldiers on duty at a gate. They looked vaguely like something from the 1812 war to Penny, with their red coats and white cross-straps, like the British guys who'd had their ass handed back to them at New Orleans. But they carried crossbows and not rifles? She vaguely recalled Johanna saying something about absolute gun-control applying here, like the NRA's worst nightmare about Obama.

Her immediate concern was getting her breath and composure back after crossing that freaking road. Apparently it was the main freeway into this city from outside. Relatively narrow for most of its length forcing the traffic to a crawl, but when it widened out here and incoming traffic only on this side (4) could spread out into a wider space, human nature took over and guys with carts and carriages could whip up a bit more speed. And it was like England, people drove on the left. That really disorientated her American soul that held firmly to the belief that the God-given and only way to drive was to Keep Right.

Johanna had said that hardly anybody got killed here because everybody was aware how bloody dangerous it was. That had kindda been reassuring. Kindda. But, Penny reflected, she'd lived all her life crossing American streets, in Nebraska and then Greater Los Angeles. If there wasn't a crossing, you grew up learning to estimate how fast cars were travelling and when you knew a car goin' at thirty or forty was too far away to hit you, you went for it and crossed. Here, it was horse-drawn, or sometimes oxen-drawn. Those things were deceptively slow. Ten or eleven, tops. But still fast enough to hurt if they hit you. She had been truly disorientated.

They waited in the large entry hall to the Palace. Here, people with routine appointments or petitions waited, nervously, to be called. Men and women who looked like civil servants were bustling around on errands. Sharon spoke to one of the clerks, who took in Johanna and Penny with a glance, and nodded then bustled off. Penny got her breath back and looked around her. She held on nervously to the boxes she was carrying. She looked, curiously, at the short squat figures in chain-mail and horned helmets. They were wearing… axes? A memory surfaced of the Lord of the Rings movies. Johanna had said there were Dwarves on this world, right? Makes sense. Idly, she wondered how many of those guys were really girls, under the beards and armour.

A tall, thin guy in a sober suit, looking like an upmarket mortician, found them. He seemed to be Alpha Clerk here, the one the other Palace staff deferred to. Otherwise, despite the red hair fading to gray, he was completely unremarkable to Penny.

"Please come this way, Miss Higgins, Doctor Smith-Rhodes, and, err?"

"Miss Penélopé de Pasadène." Penny said, giving in. Her real family name, back on Roundworld, was different. She was grappling with the idea that it was likely to become Hofstadter, despite her misgivings. But hey, here it had a zing to it. Sounded like French nobility, vaguely.

The mortician smiled briefly.

"Miss Penélopé de Pasadène." He said, committing the name to memory. "I'm very pleased to meet you, mademoiselle. As will be His Lordship. My name is Rufus Drumknott, by the way. Miss Higgins reports to me as part of her daily duties. As his Private Secretary, I then report to His Lordship. Come this way, please."

The three followed Drumknott through a door marked "Restricted Access". He led them down a quiet, but well-furnished, corridor. There was seemingly nobody else around, but Penny jumped slightly. Johanna looked at her.

"Sorry, nerves." Penny said. "Couldda sworn that little fat baby statue thing on the wall there…"

"The cherub" Sharon said, quietly.

"Yeah, the cherub. Fat baby in a diaper with angel wings. Turned its head to look at me."

Sharon and Johanna looked at each other, but kept quiet. Rufus Drumknott kept his face unreadable. Behind them, Operative Lower Reception Room Corridor, whose real name was something like כרוב,מלאך; ילד יפה ותמים in an obscure Circle Sea language, transmitted a brief "they're on their way, and the blonde one's really pretty!" down the line. (5)


Drumknott knocked on a door. A voice said "Come!" He ushered the ladies inside, following them in.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes and Miss Penélopé de Pasadène, sir." Sharon Higgins said, dutifully.

"Thank you, Miss Higgins. I understand some over-zealous members of the Guild of Thieves detained you?"

"That is so, sir. Fortunately, Miss Gibbet from the Guild was present, and dealt with the situation. She understood we were not to be unduly delayed."

"Capital. You may leave, Miss Higgins."

"Yes, sir."

Sharon patted Penny reassuringly on the shoulder on the way out. Penny took in a large airy room, lit by a large window on one side. A single table had been laid out, and she noted plates, cutlery and a serving knife had been set out. For four people.

A slightly-built, spare figure, leaning on a walking stick, was silhouetted against the window. It was hard to make out detail in the light, but he was very neatly dressed in black and appeared to have dark hair. He took a step forwards.

"You may set those boxes down on the table, Miss de Pasadène." he directed. "We will come to them shortly."

Lord Vetinari stepped forward. Penny could now see the disconcertingly intelligent face and the meticulously trimmed goatee beard. She had a glimmering of how a guy like this could end up running a country. She sensed power, ability, and danger in him.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes." he said, affably. "Always a pleasure. Your activities and reports never cease to fascinate me. Where shall we begin this time?"

He left the question open for a brief silent moment. Johanna, who had met the Patrician many times, knew this wasn't absent-mindedness. It allowed him to watch her face for signs of nervousness or guilt. She knew the technique; she waited for…

"Were-deer, sir?" Drumknott eventually said, with every sign of giving a helpful prompt to his boss.

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Drumknott. The were-deer who caused such a stir in this city several nights ago. I read the reports submitted by Captain von Überwald and yourself with great interest. Very informative. Apparently the young lady who manifested the symptoms is in your personal care?"

"Thet is so, sir." Johanna said. "Currently, she is not in the city, but in a safe location some distence ewey. People who understend her needs end who care for her are looking efter her welfare."

Vetinari nodded.

"Commendable." he said. "As you mentioned in her report, she is from a settlement in a place which you very carefully described as "not unlike the lower states of Aceria".

Vetinari paused.

"You identified her native town as " a settlement called Pasadena", in fact."

"Yes, sir." Johanna replied, adopting, for the moment, the Vimes technique of reporting-to-superiors.

"And today you bring me a young lady. I read her as personable, pleasant and well-adjusted, and no doubt one who will in her turn have surprises to offer to make my day more interesting. Miss Penélopé de Pasadène. "

Vetinari stepped forward and graciously offered his hand. Penny blinked and took it.

"I should introduce myself." he said, genially. "Lord Havelock Vetinari. Ruler of this city and at the last approximate count, of one million two hundred and twenty thousand sentient inhabitants, not all of them human. Of course, I realise while this is the largest city on this world, it would be lost among the larger urban conurbations of the United States of America. Greater Los Angeles, for instance."

Penny jerked in surprise. Johanna concealed her astonishment. Vetinari gets reports and digests from the Roundworld Project, she reminded herself. His interest is in the politics and governmental systems the planet has evolved. And will carry on evolving after the year 2013. Of course he'll know about California and the USA. The most powerful country on Earth in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. He'd want to know what made America great. And where the weaknesses are, and the mistakes its leaders made, that will inevitably send it the same way as Great Britain or France or Ancient Rome before it.

Vetinari carefully studied Penny's face, and smiled briefly.

"I appreciate a puzzle." he said. "Doctor Smith-Rhodes explicitly reported the young lady called Lucy as being from a place called Pasadena. Which in this world is a trading post and a few huts in Lower Aceria, with a population of perhaps two hundred. And now she introduces me to a young lady called Miss Penélopé de Pasadène. Penelope from Pasadena, perhaps?"

"Damn." thought Johanna. It was closely followed by Ag, too clever for my own good. I didn't know there was a place called Pasadena in our Aceria!

"Two young ladies with an association with Pasadena? Then I recall that from my studies, the Roundworld has a rather more substantial city with the same name. A satellite city of the Greater Los Angeles conurbation, I believe."

Vetinari smiled again, briefly.

"I understand Los Angeles to be a city with a very forgiving sunny climate." He said. "Which may well explain the tanned skin you did not have several days ago. May I prevail upon you, Doctor Smith-Rhodes, for a full account of your adventures on the Roundworld? No great rush."

Johanna than gave an account of her time in California, aided by prompts and recollections from Penny, who also realised full disclosure was a good strategy for getting out of here in one piece. Vetinari was attentively silent, occasionally asking for clarification, and making occasional remarks.

"Ah, that explains a very strange letter which arrived in Sir Samuel's in-tray." he said, genially. "I understand he passed it to his adjutant with the words "Sort this out, would you, A.E.?", and an intention to speak to you in order to find out what the bloody Hell that bloody woman's been up to now."

Johanna winced.

Eventually they got on to the Reason.

Vetinari had taken a seat and was steepling his fingers over the top of his cane, greatly attentive.

"The Prime Directive." he said. "Knowing as we do that within two centuries the Roundworld will be hit by an unspecified catastrophe. To ensure the right scientific and speculative minds are prioritised to work towards the preservation of the human race there. To lift it out of the gravity-well of that doomed planet…"

"Hey!" Penny exclaimed, shocked. Vetinari looked at her, gravely and with some sympathy.

"I kinda like the planet I live on!" Penny protested.

"I wholly understand, Miss de Pasadène." Vetinari said, with genuine sympathy. "But the catastrophic extinction event will not occur in your lifetime. Not even that of your grandchildren. You can, I believe, afford to be objective." He paused. "Continue, Doctor."

Johanna explained, as best she could, that the people HEX had identified as the Pasadena Collective represented a group of shining intellectual talents, each of whom had a part of the puzzle for successfully getting millions of people off the planet in colony ships when the moment came.

"They hev elso become my friends, sir." she added, with emphasis. "I like them. Even Sheldon Cooper."

"Commendable." Vetinari remarked. "And as part of the mental re-adjustment necessary for them to realise that getting off the planet is possible, you are showing them all a new and different world. Ours. I understand the motive. Continue."

Johanna continued relating her story. At the end, Vetinari summarised.

"So these six minds. Doctor Sheldon Cooper is now incentivized to write speculative papers on means of travelling in multi-dimensional space. Which may bypass the business of long centuries of flight through the freezing empty void of space. At the very least he may suggest wholly new and original methods of approaching the speed of light, which I understand is the limiting factor for conventional space travel. He is supported in this by a second genius, Doctor Leonard Hofstadter. The Cooper-Hofstadter Hypothesis is then tested by other scientists yet to come, who find ways of turning theory into practicality."

"Leonard saves the world?" Penny said, genuinely astonished.

"Or at least its people." Vetinari acknowledged. "Meanwhile, an astronomer called Rajesh Koothrapali provides habitable Earth-like planets for the colony ships to aim at, thus reducing the random factor somewhat. As for those colony ships themselves, mr Howard Wolowitz has both the experience and the insightful mind to make vast steps forward in their design. So that the human race might not be troubled by bad plumbing, in fact. Millions of people aboard colony ships will need adequate nutrition on board. Equally as pressingly, they require reliable waste-disposal systems that work. Or else their journey becomes something of a nightmare."

There was a pause. Penny tried not to grin too widely.

"Millions of people in space will present questions as to how the human mind and biological systems will change in a vastly different setting. Therefore you have a neurobiologist doctor, one who looks into the mechanics of the human brain. Doctor Farrah-Fowler's researches will answer, or point to answers, here. She is supported by the biochemist with the interestingly long name, who knows how to modify minds and bodies via chemical intervention. And then we have a young lady who, when she is not troubled by turning into a deer, will go on to become famous for works of imaginative fiction concerning the need to leave the planet and look for new homes. These will fire the imagination of millions of readers, and bring about a new generation who are moved to work to this goal."

"Errr…" Penny said. Vetinari had not mentioned any part she would have to play.

"Oh, yes!" Vetinari said, genially. "I believe you have something to show me? About this time of day I usually feel a little peckish."

Penny, slightly stunned, moved to the side-table and explained about cheesecake. She was getting used to this presentation by now. And it was anchoring her to reality in the middle of all the other crazy stuff that was going on. It was something she knew about.

"Cake? Made from cheese?" Drumknott asked, raising an eyebrow. Vetinari looked reprovingly at him.

"Stranger things have happened." he said, accepting a portion. "And cheese is what milk and cream become, in the fullness of time."

Shortly afterwards, two more Cheesecake Moments were had.

Vetinari looked thoughtful and uncharacteristically far away. Then he recovered.

"Drumknott? Be so kind as to arrange an interview for Miss Penélopé de Pasadène. With the patents and business contracts lawyer, Mr Thunderbolt. Thank you."

Vetinari turned back to Penny and Johanna.

"I'm satisfied your presence here is no danger to the City." he said. "In fact, it may be beneficial. Miss Penélopé de Pasadène, you now have the rights and obligation of a citizen of Ankh-Morpork."

"Gee, thank you!" Penny said, smiling at him. Vetinari nodded back.

"Such obligations, naturally, include accepting the City has a right to charge sales tax on the new product you propose to manufacture here." he said, smoothly. Penny's smile faded. "After all, it is hardly a necessity. But a luxury that will add something of worth and value to life here."

He took another spoonful.

"But we can sort out the specifics later. And the fact the City would require a small nominal stake, say one per cent, in your proposed Cheesecake Factory. Such an elegantly simple name."

Vetinari also asked for the other seven Roundworlders who proposed to visit to be formally introduced to him, as they arrived. Johanna winced. She'd have to get Leonard over fairly quickly, then. He's sensible.  Ensure Vetinari had no doubts over Lucy's were-status. Better dope her up with those clever beta-blocker drugs Bernadette was talking about.  And there was no wiggle-room left. She now had to include Sheldon Cooper. In a meeting. Face-to-face. Mind-to-mind. With Vetinari. Damn, damn, damn.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Much later that day, Penny was reunited with Leonard at his rooms in Unseen University. She appreciated the size and relative comfort but deplored the lack of electricity, TV, computer, or many other things that made California life good.

"We just gotta put up with that, hon." Leonard said. He had at some point been issued wizarding robes. Penny thought they made him look cute, in a Harry Potter sense. She surveyed the bed. Johanna had thoughtfully given her a stack of the local women's magazines to look through, in preparation for a clothes-buying trip out. But right now, the big comfortable bed looked like fun. At least that was the same on both worlds. She tried to get Leonard interested in a bit of role-play, you know, Harry and Hermione.

They were interrupted about an hour later by a scrabbling at the window.

Leonard sat up, alarmed. Ponder had very soberly advised him about Things from the Dungeon Dimensions who would try to get at a new inexperienced magic-user, and had taken him through several defensive routines to ward them off. He had left an omniscope fragment behind to activate help from HEX or Ponder, if it got too big for him to deal with.

He got out of bed and ran things through his mind. Penny, more practically, wrapped a sheet around her and went into the kitchen. She found a nice big sharpening-steel, like a metal club with a handle. Leonard checked the windows.

The noise seemed to be coming from the special window, the one that looked into other times and places. The last time he'd looked, it had opened up into some dingy badly-lit storeroom somewhere. But something was there, a long thin inhuman shape, long and spindly, silhouetted against the light. It seemed to be writhing in terror and was moaning, in a way that looked - and sounded - oddly familiar.

Leonard steeled himself, and as Penny nodded and raised her weapon, he pulled the sash window up and open. He sensed that eldrich things from a different malevolent dimension shouldn't whine like that. Something fell in, with a large crash.

"Sheldon?"

Sheldon Cooper uncurled himself from a defensive ball.

"Oh, thank God you opened that window, Leonard! I stepped through the portal and found myself on a narrow window-sill seven stories up. I couldn't open the window from outside, and I was stuck there!"

"Freak, Sheldon! What the goddam freak are you doing here?" Penny exclaimed.

"Well, I was in my cellar room down in the Caltech basement playing hacky-sack, I reached a lifetime best score of forty-five, and then suddenly this glowing portal opened up in the wall…."

It began to dawn on Leonard that the Special Window was tailored to him after all. It offered another method of getting back to California from here…. And hell, didn't the nameplate on the door say Emeritus professor of Trans-Temporal Portals?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Ferk: a minor God of thieves.

(2) Conina's Barbarian Hairdos, established by former Thief/Heroine Conina Cohensdaughter-Harebut to cater to the needs of busy professional women with active lifestyles. She coiffured Assassins, Thieves, Watchwomen, the dwindling band of Barbarian Heroines, Teachers, and other women whose daily lives often included desperate hand-to-hand combat in inhospitable places. She intimately knew their hairstyling needs.

(3) According to TBBT, it all worked out OK. Apparently.

(4) Outgoing traffic went left, down Turnwise Broadway on the other side.

(5) Cherubs are a sort of better-looking indoor gargoyle. There is a thriving colony at the Palace who work for Vetinari.

Chapter 30: The Structural Determinacy Investigation

Wheeler-Bell Thirty

The Einstein-Bosen bridge structural determinacy

In which the story advances, and Ankh-Morpork and Sheldon Cooper have a Copenhagen Interpretation Experience of their very own. The city has seen and survived many strange and eldritch things. But can it cope with Sheldon?

Our tale begins again in Pasadena, where Ruth N'Kweze is on her own discovery curve concerning the Roundworld…

Ruth and Amy had collected the two dogs, plus several cases of dogfood and other comforts, from Penny's flat. With Penny and Johanna on the Discworld for an indefinite length of time, they had agreed Ruth should assume the doggy duties from her base at Howard and Bernadette's. They were currently sleeping off a large feed in the living room. Amy had explained the current state of play concerning Lucy, and Ruth was intrigued to hear that there might be a biological agent that was in part responsible for the were transformation. Ruth had suggested that this was only part of the story, and it took the massive standing magical field of the Discworld to act as a catalyst for something that would only be latent on this planet. Magic plus biochemistry was probably the key. Amy considered this.

"Maybe people from your world have crossed here before." she said. "And the magical factor involved crossed with them, somehow, for just long enough. Which explains all the myths and stories about werewolves and selkies and fox-kami that persist in various Earth cultures."

"Selkies?" Ruth asked.

"Were-seals. The stories persist in Scotland and related countries."

Ruth considered this. She knew werewolves were not the only weres on her world. She was Howondalandian. Were-leopards existed in her homeland. She'd briefly been married to one. (1) There were also were-ducks. People in Überwald felt this was embarrassing and weren't inclined to talk about it very much. So people living in remote coastal areas where seals abounded… made sense.

After Amy had gone, and while she was waiting for Howard and Bernadette, she fired up a computer and looked up "selkies" on the internet. The myths and legends of the seal-people fascinated her. As did the tales of their marrying normally enabled humans, so that the latent were-streak entered their family line and resurfaced at unpredictable intervals. Had one of Lucy's ancestors been a were who had somehow crossed from the Discworld? They might lose the were-ability once away from the magical field of the Disc, but their genetics is still passed to children and the were-stuff remains latent in them…  Then she remembered that this being Howard's computer, she could connect to Caltech's network somehow and access her own work there on identifying Lucy's specific were-nature. HEX prompted and assisted. She was glad of the supercomputer's presence. It made the learning curve concerning local technology that much easier.

She worked on for a while, asking HEX to provide some background music, something appropriate to the country she was in. She listened to balladeers called Suzanne Vega and Edie Brickell for a while, appreciating the wry wistful humour of the lyrics, HEX alternating with the harder, rawer, sound of somebody called Patti Smith who seemed to be really angry with life, but in a lyrically intelligent way. Roundworld women can put some interesting music together, she thought, appreciating. But something was missing... she asked HEX for more information on the performers he'd selected. She noted they were all white North American women. That was fine so far as it went, and she noted part of the experience of being an American woman was to invariably be disappointed with American men. She wondered if this applied to black American women too. HEX provided several songs by a Tracy Chapman, and Ruth realised it did.

A Patti Smith track called Ghost Dance made Ruth sit up and pay attention. It was different. It had the recognisable rhythms and forms of the Central Howondalandian Red Indians to it. It was the music of her home continent. Not her own ethnicity, culture or traditions, but different, somehow, to the white-skinned – what's the word? Caucasian? - North American form she'd been listening to.

++Are you surprised?++ I understand the performer is part Cherokee Indian.++ HEX said.

Ruth considered. Music with Rocks In did not have to be ethnically white-skinned.

"Mr HEX? Are there any musical forms in this world which come from Howonda… African… traditions?" (2)

++Searching.++ Ah, yes.++ I believe this may interest you, Ruth.++

Ghost Dance faded out. The loudspeakers attached to the computer began to play familiar sounds. A cockerel crowed. Morning birdsong. Ruth recognised the familiar sounds of Home: crickets, cicadas, river bullfrogs, the familiar noise of a bladder grasshopper calling for a mate. And then a familiar accent, a Howondalandian… African… voice.

Osibisa. Criss-cross rhythms that explode with happiness!

Ruth frowned, thinking of the rare but startling flying elephants of her homeland, the osibisi. (3) More spoken introductions were made. And then the music started, music that called to her soul and made a primal connection between ears and heart and feet.

… the root is, early one morning in the heart of Africa….

The heartbeat-fast music flowed and moved her. She got up and danced, moving as the music dictated.

More Matabele than Zulu, but who cares? It's the music of Home….

Howard and Bernadette returned to find their house-guest moving and dancing to African music. Ruth smiled blissfully and drew Bernadette into the dance. After a while Bernadette kicked off her shoes too and whole-heartedly joined in.

"Wow…." Howard Wolowitz said. He wasn't complaining. If Ruth wanted to move like that in the living-room of his apartment – and what movement! – he wasn't going to complain. And Bernie could move too...when she wanted to do something she threw herself into it with everything she had. Howard settled himself down to watch and appreciate. He wondered about getting a cold beer.

HEX left them to it. The computer was monitoring a new situation that required a lot of his run-time. Un-noticed by Howard, Bernadette and Ruth, HEX considered a new random factor that had emerged at Unseen University which demanded his active attention there. He sent an imperative alert message to Ponder Stibbons calling for his presence, and ideally for Johanna to be there too. HEX did not express emotions as humans would understand them. But the equivalent of a resigned sigh was surging through his mainframe.

++Sheldon Cooper.++ Sheldon.++

It was making him want, unaccountably, to slap the end of his remote sensor terminal against his CPU.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the Discworld, a different situation was working itself out.

Penny was attempting to work out the local quirks of Ankh-Morporkian domestic utilities, such as they were, while Sheldon looked on, arms folded, and Leonard was attempting to get information concerning exactly how the Hell he'd got here, under his own steam, with no assistance from HEX. Unheeded by both, the omniscope fragment was flashing with urgent color, insistent and demanding.

No faucets? Looks like some sorta hand-pump to draw water… and then I gotta figure out some sorta way of heating the water. Johanna said not to drink the local water straight. You gotta boil it first… she said I would not want to know what happens if you don't.

Penny tried a few experimental pumps on a stiff old handle that hadn't been looked at or, she thought, oiled, in a good few years. As the sheet slipped, she reflected it might be best to go put some clothes on first.

"So this wormhole opened up. In the basement room nobody uses where you go to play hacky-sack." Leonard said.

"Indeed, Leonard. A portal connecting two ordinarily separated points in time and space, no doubt leading via hyperspace to a parallel structure in a different world. This world. A simple and stable Einstein-Bosen bridge in spacetime, operating via the mechanism of n-dimensional cosmic superstrings rippling in the medium of what has been called the quantum foam. Is that so hard to understand?"

Leonard shook his head. Penny, reflecting that the two guys present were Leonard, who knew what he'd be seeing anyway, and Sheldon Cooper, who simply wouldn't care about her being naked in his vicinity, dumped the sheet and went to find some clothes. For simplicity's sake, she got into the comfortable and familiar Californian garments she'd arrived in.

As the guys bickered on, she noticed the thing she thought of as a cellphone to speak to HEX was flashing in rapid colors. Must be his ringtone, she thought, and picked it up. It looked and felt like the sort of compact mirror a woman might carry in her purse for fix-ups.

++Penny++. HEX said. His voice was small and tinny but audible.

"Hi, HEX." Penny said. "We got us a situation here."

"Oh, is there a whiteboard here? And pens? I want to analyse theories of how the wormhole works!"

Leonard indicated an old-fashioned black chalkboard on an easel. Dusty white and colored chalks sat on the shelf underneath the board.

"Go knock yourself out, Sheldon." he said.

++I have alerted Ponder Stibbons.++ HEX said. ++He is on his way.++In the meantime, do not investigate the portal. ++

"Wasn't intending to, HEX." Penny said. A glowing hole in mid-air outside a window six or seven floors up… no freakin' way was she going to jump into it. And if she had anything to do with it, neither would Leonard. She contemplated Sheldon, who was excitedly chalking up complex math on the board.

I'll throw him back through it, though.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna Smith-Rhodes had returned to the Guild, and was planning out events for the next day. On the walk back, she had wondered if her alternate self would still be there and was contemplating how to conceal that. Two of her in the same place would be a problem. HEX had assured her it was just a little glitch, a loop connecting two timelines crossing over itself and intersecting where she currently was, and that they'd soon diverge again. It also meant there were two sets of her dogs on two different worlds. She decided dogs, not being existential creatures, could cope with that more easily. She suspected they might accept it happily and run as a pack for as long as it took, should they meet.

Just in case, she'd picked up a bag of assorted foodstuffs, snack food and simple things that one Johanna could eat in the flat whilst the other took Raven House to High Dinner. Seeing two of her around the Guild School might be awkward to explain. And if the girls find out?, she wondered. She shrugged. She'd – they'd – deal with that.

Drumknott and Vetinari had set up an appointment with Mr Thunderbolt, the patents lawyer, for the next morning. She had to ensure Penny was there. And to take Ponder, who could represent the University's stake at contract negotiations. She'd also sent a message to the Duke of Ankh's property management people, concerning currently vacant premises on Baker Street that had last been used for manufacture of biscuits. She hoped she could deal with Lady Sybil, when it came to renting premises ultimately owned by the Ramkin-Vimes family. She wanted to avoid Sam Vimes for a day or two. That bloody letter from Captain Trunk at the LAPD had arrived on his desk and, not unreasonably, he wanted to know what the Hell was going on. Johanna wanted to delay an uncomfortable interview until she felt strong enough.

And to own a business in Ankh-Morpork, Penny needed to be a member of at least one Guild. Johanna felt she could afford to pay the dues on her behalf. But which ones?

Joan likes her and considers she can teach basic cooking skills. So for Penny to teach at the Guild School, as well she might, requires at least Guild of Teachers membership. But to teach at the Assassins' School she would need associate, non-Black, Guild membership. That could be an advantage. I can refine the skills she has and teach her those additional things necessary for her to be an Associate Assassin. And the girls would benefit greatly from her approach to life. It would be educative for them.

Johanna thought on.

But Penny is here to found a business. Supervising an enterprise making cheesecakes and related sweet desserts. To do this she would require Bakers' Guild membership. And to trade in the product requires her to have a licence from the Guild of Merchants. The premises will need a business policy with the Guild of Thieves. Steffi can consult on that. She'd be glad to; she gets commission on sale of Thieves' Insurance policies. Hmm. Up to four Guilds with an interest in taking Penny as a member. And the attenuated training course entitling her to Associate Membership of the Assassins' Guild is nowhere near as deep, or as hazardous, as the Black Track for mature entrants. We even teach it as a part-time evening class. She won't be able to legally inhume, for instance, not unless she asks to take the full Mature Students' Class. But then, I don't read Penny as wanting to take it that far…

She returned to the Guild and signed in, relieved that there had been a shift change at the porters' lodge and Mr Stippler was his usual affable self, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

Johanna made it up to her apartment, fielding a few puzzled looks from students on the way. She wasn't surprised to see the reason for the double-takes was already there, marking student work and drinking redbush tea. She had thoughtfully provided a second cup.

"According to HEX, this will persist for another couple of days." said the Johanna from several days in her future. She poured a cup for her slightly younger self. "He isn't sure what caused it. Something, he thinks, to do with Sheldon Cooper meddling with the Time Engine."

"So we need to manage this situation." the younger Johanna said. She accepted the tea with thanks. She wasn't surprised it was exactly how she liked it. Nor was she surprised to hear that Sheldon had precipitated this situation. Ah well. She'd discover exactly how, in due course.

"Ja. What I suggest is that I remain here and deal with routine duties at the School. It makes no great difference, as I have already been around the circle once and done the things you are doing now. Just as you will, a day or two in your future, find yourself sitting here marking essays and talking to yourself."

Johanna smiled.

"They say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness."

"Maybe. But I prefer to think of it as a rare chance for an intelligent conversation with somebody who understands your way of thinking."

Johanna considered this. She smiled. And remembered where she kept an emergency bottle of wijtblits for those situations where strong drink was mandated as relaxant and an aid to contemplation.

"So Sheldon is responsible." she said. Her older self smiled ruefully and looked just a little weary.

"Ja. And I too am considering a glass of wijtblits. I recall the thought struck me at about this time in our conversation."

Both Johannas sipped their tea. Her older self frowned slightly.

"Ponder said to me that I must not tell you too much concerning things yet in your future, but which are known to me." She said. "I wish I could, but I appreciate the need to avert paradox that can complicate the situation even more. I also fear there will be no time for that glass of wijtblits. I can say that within the next few minutes there will be a knock on the door, and it will be Mr Stippler with an urgent message calling you to the University…"

There was a knock on the door. Older Johanna stood up and retreated to the kitchen. She took the bag of groceries with her, nodding thanks.

It all works out, she signalled in finger-code, before discreetly hiding herself.

"What is it, Mr Stippler?" Johanna asked, even before she opened the door.

Stippler was used to Assassins recognising him from the other side of closed doors. He accepted it was something they were trained to do, but wondered if it was his footfall, or his way of knocking, maybe the smell of the pipe tobacco he used. He didn't enquire. He knew his employers.

"Message from Professor Stibbons at the University, miss." he said, diffidently, passing her the clacks flimsy. She read it and winced.

How the Hell did HE get here under his own steam?

She wondered if this was connected to the fact there were two of her in Ankh-Morpork right now. Whatever Sheldon had done - or is doing, or will do - had this somehow mucked up her own personal timeline?

Johanna sighed.

"Thenk you, Mr Stippler." she said, remembering to speak Morporkian. I'll just pick up a few things end I will be over directly." Then she added, with complete but misleading truthfulness, "I fear thet I will be coming end going a lot on this essignment."

"That's the wizards for you, miss." Stippler said, sympathetically. "They don't half make things ten times more difficult than they need to be. And this new man, this Doctor Cooper, he sounds a right case!"

Johanna graciously overlooked that the porter had read her message. It was expected. And she reflected that Sheldon Cooper had only been in the city for half an hour and he was already earning a reputation, admittedly from a shrewd Assassins' Guild employee who had a lifetime's experience in recognising problems. Mr Stippler and Mr Maroon had an unerring instinct for trouble. They worked for people who attracted trouble, after all.

Johanna grabbed a selection of useful things, then considered. Ponder was male and probably hasn't thought of some practical little things. No: he was a wizard. He definitely hadn't thought of some practical little things. She didn't need to rush to the University. Ponder and Leonard between them could prevent Sheldon from doing anything drastic. So the situation wasn't likely to get any worse. Better do some shopping first. If Penny's staying overnight, there are things she'll need.

On the walk round to the University, she called at various shops, gathering things together. Uneasily, she recalled Howard Wolowitz' reaction to seeing various trans-dimensional Ponders in the same place, and his musing on what he could do with identical triplets made of three of Bernadette.

I hope this effect wears off. For one thing, I will have to be stern if Ponder gets ideas about there being two of me. Ag, what might happen if my other self asserts a right to him? I can hardly say "no"…

She winced. And I really hope she goes soon. Ag, I know how difficult I am to live with, and so does she! And whatever Sheldon did – or will do – to bring this about. Does this mean two of us go around this loop together for all eternity? An infinity of one of me being a few days ahead of the other?

Johanna went into a department store and concluded a few purchases. Her mind formed a new idea.

Is infinity the same thing as eternity? Are they different concepts?

Then she wondered why she was thinking this way. She winced again. She realised something of the Caltech gang was rubbing off on her: this was the sort of interesting abstract notion that Sheldon, Leonard, Raj and Howard would happily debate all night. Into eternity if need be. And at infinite length.

She sighed, and walked on.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bernadette and Ruth fell onto the sofa together, bonded in African dance.

"Last time, it was Raj playing Bollywood music." Bernadette squeaked, happy. "But African music, gets into your feet. You gotta dance!"

"You sure do!" Howard agreed. Ruth's dancing had put him in mind of the start of the film Zulu, only better.(4) Zulu had been one of his favourites as an adolescent. If only for the opening fifteen minutes or so.

"Gotta start dinner, hon." Bernadette said. "Raj and Lucy are comin' over."

"Need a hand?" Ruth asked.

"Ah-huh. I can teach you about kosher. Had to take a course when I married Howie."

"No pork or shellfish." Ruth said, confidently, thinking of Cenotians on her own world. They ran the kosher butcheries in Ankh-Morpork and several Guild students were Cenotian. She needed to be aware of little things like this, as an assistant housemistress. "And something about not mixing meat and milk?"

Bernadette nodded. "And then you get tamasic. Which is Raj. His religion says no beef. There's a word for that."

"Yeah. He calls it hamburger and says he ain't forbidden to eat pork." Howard said. Bernadette scowled at him.

"Aghnaya's the word in Hindu." she said. "See the problem, hon? Kosher for Howard and tamasic for Raj. And Lucy's vegetarian."

"Looks like you need all the help you can get, then." Ruth said.

"I got lamb." Bernadette said. "You can't go wrong with lamb. No religion bans that!"

""'Cept for vegetarians." Howard remarked. Bernadette glared at him. It wasn't Howard who'd be making dinner for a roomful of people who all had different dietary requirements.

"Err… you don't have any..?" Bernadette asked. She seemed to be expecting the answer "yes."

"Well, strictly speaking I can only eat milk or amasi if it comes from my own family's cows, or from cows belonging to relatives on my mother's side…"

Bernadette looked appalled for a moment. Ruth grinned and patted her shoulder.

"But I lost that taboo when I left home. At boarding school it was usually "eat what you're given or go hungry". I took the point of view that family is whoever happens to be putting the food on the table."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder Stibbons looked into the special window and saw the interior of the drab, bare, artificially lit room. The only furnishing in it was a rack of utilitarian shelving carrying a few crates and boxes. Sheldon's discarded hacky-sack lay on the floor. From this side the vortex Sheldon had seen wasn't visible. But Ponder didn't doubt that it would be there on the other side.

"So every time you've been in that room, and you go there daily, it's been a perfectly normal sub-basement room at Caltech. But today, shortly after, in shared time, Leonard arrived here and was assigned this set of rooms, a glowing portal opened up in the wall. And you stepped through it to see what was there."

Sheldon nodded.

"Exactly so, Professor Stibbons. There was a moderate gap of possibly four feet. Beyond that was an unremarkable sash window, which was closed. I was forced to leap to the window and find purchase on the ledge beneath the sill, which fortunately was wide enough for me to stand on. Then I realised I could not get back and the vortex had disappeared. I was forced to hold on tight and shout for help. Then Leonard appeared and opened the window. Penny very nearly hit me with a metal club!"

He glowered at Penny, who shrugged. Ponder, his mind formulating a working hypothesis, realised somebody was hammering on the door.

"Doctor Hofstadter?" a male voice called. "Is everything alright in there? There were reports of an intruder!"

Ponder winced. Bledlows. The University's porters and security guards.

"I'll deal with this." he said. He turned for the front door.

"And that's the other thing, Professor Stibbons." Sheldon said. "While I was clinging to the window and shouting for assistance, I looked down. It is a long distance to the ground from that window. Several large men in derby hats turned up underneath and looked up. I called to them for help. It was indistinct, but I thought I heard one of them accusing me of being a thief and they said "Yes, mate, we'll help you, alright." And he looked at his fellows as if he had made a very funny joke, and they all sniggered."

Ponder winced. He knew bledlows. They'd help a presumed Thief caught and trapped on the outside of a university building, alright. Before delivering informal retribution with clubs, fists and steel toecaps. He signalled to Penny to keep Sheldon out of the way, and after she'd hustled him into the kitchen, he opened the door.

Bledlow Alphonse Nobbs (no relation) nodded to Ponder.

"Errr… sorry it took so long to get here, sir." Nobbs (no relation) said, recognising one of the more important wizards and deciding to be diplomatic and conciliatory. "But we saw this intruder on the wall, sir. Looked like a mime artist from his build, sort of long and thin and bony. Reckoned anyone seven floors up on the outside was up to no good."

Ponder nodded. Finding your way around the ever-changing labyrinth of the university took time. The window you saw on the outside might not necessarily be easy to locate on the inside. It meant he'd got here before the Bledlows, and he was thankful for that little mercy at least.

"Thanks for responding so promptly, Mr Nobbs." he said. "But everything's under control here. Doctor Hofstadter here is part of a research programme involving a University which is… elsewhere. The person you saw on the wall is a researcher from that University who's only just arrived, and unfortunately doesn't know the procedures yet. I can vouch for Doctor Cooper, and can I say he's now under my personal escort? I'm going to speak to him to try to avoid any more little misunderstandings like this, and to get him accreditation from Mr Ridcully."

Ponder realised he should now introduce Sheldon to the Arch-Chancellor. He supressed a shudder at the thought of the potential this had to go badly.

Bledlow Nobbs (no relation) nodded, understanding. He knew the eccentricities of senior research wizards.

"Just so long as he's escorted, sir." Nobbs said. "We don't want no more little misunderstandings. Do we, Doctor Cooper?"

Sheldon had been coaxed into the room by Penny, and the Bledlow looked at him, memorising his face and demeanour. He also spent time looking at Penny.

"Hi, guys." she said, sweetly.

"And the young lady, sir?" Nobbs (no relation) inquired. Ponder remembered the rules concerning female access to wizards' rooms. The Bledlows were ultimately responsible for enforcing them.

"She's also from the Caltech university. In Aceria." Ponder said. "Miss Penny…" he faltered. What was her family name? Nobody had ever mentioned it.

"Miss Penélopé de Pasadène." Penny said, cheerfully.

Nobbs (no relation) touched his hat respectfully. He knew, intellectually, there were such things as female academics, women whose brains had unaccountably failed to overheat, explode, and dribble out of their ears, due to learning too much. Doctor Smith-Rhodes was one, and you wouldn't want to knock on Professor Stibbons' door after eleven, to remind her the rules said all women should be out of the university by then… besides, these people were Acerians. That explained the weird clothing and strange behaviour.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." he said.

He looked at Sheldon again. "Mind how you go, Doctor Cooper." he said, in a way that almost sounded unthreatening.

"Do me a favour, Mr Nobbs?" Ponder asked. "Would you mind awfully contacting the Guild of Assassins and asking Doctor Smith-Rhodes if she can come over as soon as is convenient? Explain to her Doctor Cooper has arrived unexpectedly. She'll understand."

"Right you are, sir." Nobbs (no relation) said, cheerfully. He took another look at the long thin mime artiste. Bledlow senses honed by necessity and experience were twanging, concerning eccentric academics and the things they were capable of, that could spoil a honest hard-working Bledlow's day. He resolved to tip off his professional peer Mr Stippler at the Assassins that there was a really weird one here, a bloody Acerian, and possibly a foreign wizard, and he, Mr Stippler, should keep an eye out if he turned up on Filigree Street. Not that there'd be too much need for concern if Doctor Smith-Rhodes had him on a lead. But you never knew.

The bledlows left. Ponder closed the door and exhaled, long and deep. This was going to be a long evening.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So Howie's mom talked to me and she made it a condition of me marrying her little bubeleh, that I learnt to cook kosher and keep a kosher kitchen. So she knew even if her daughter-in-law was gonna be a shiksa, she'd be reassured he was keepin' kosher. That, and the oldest son and daughter bein' brought up Jewish. You know?"

Ruth nodded sympathy. Mixed marriages where more than one God was involved took negotiation. She knew that well enough. You took care to keep your Gods onside. Or they were likely to call around personally to express criticism.

Bernadette went on cutting veg, with slightly more force than it strictly needed.

"So I go to the synagogue and take the course in keeping a kosher kitchen for shiksas. Kashrut 101. Took months. And then I go round to the guys' apartment and there's Howie. Eatin' a bacon sandwich. Begged me not to tell his mom."

Ruth patted her friend's shoulder, sympathetically.

"Raj ain't so bad. Doesn't eat beef. When he remembers. Or isn't cravin' a burger."

Ruth remembered something Sam Vimes had said.

"Sacred cows make the best burgers. Or so a very cynical guy I know once said."  (5)

Bernadette giggled. The two got on with preparing a dinner.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder sighed. He dealt with the easier questions first.

"Penny, we've got late-working domestic staff. I'll find a sympathetic maid and get her to give you a lesson in how to use our kitchen things. I'm really sorry they're not up to California standard. And I'll see if I get out to buy some tea and coffee and milk and things. Sorry I didn't think about that earlier. Maybe I could organise something different for you? I'll have a word with Johanna. I know they use pressurised gas to power cookers and things in staff rooms at the Guild. When you both want to eat, there are regular mealtimes here? High Dinner starts in an hour, but if you miss that there's Second Dinner two hours later, then Midnight Snack two hours after that, then there's, er, Somnambulistic Nibbles two hours later, then Early Breakfast…"

Penny looked at Leonard.

"The guys here are big on catering. Apparently." Leonard explained.

"Which is why the kitchens in Wizards' rooms are a bit, err, basic." Ponder said, apologetically. "And nobody's lived here for three years, so the pump and things are a bit stiff and difficult..."

Nobody's lived here for three years, he thought. Not since Professor Rothman died…

"What do you think is happening?" Ponder asked, to buy some more thinking time.

Sheldon snorted.

"Well, as I explained to Leonard, as I was in my basement room paying hacky-sack, a portal, possibly akin to the wormhole explored in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, was seen to open up, connecting two ordinarily widely separated points in time and space, no doubt leading via hyperspace to a parallel structure in a different world. This world. A simple and stable Einstein-Bosen bridge in spacetime, operating via the mechanism of n-dimensional cosmic superstrings rippling in the medium of what has been called the quantum foam. As previously said, is that so hard to understand?"

"Yes, Sheldon, but is it that stable?" Leonard objected. "You say you've been playing hacky-sack in that room for three years, ever since Professor Rothman left and you found the key in among his personal papers when we went through them on behalf of the Physics Department, and nothing that strange has ever happened before. But it suddenly opened up. Today. How can you be sure it won't close again? Say when you're halfway through it?"

Penny frowned.

"That's, like, a short-cut between worlds, right? You were explainin' it to me one night, Leonard. How one of these wormhole things is like foldin' a sheet, so that two points normally a long way away get close up and personal. So let me get this straight. If the wormhole vanishes when Sheldon's halfway through it, and one half of him is here and the other half is in Caltech. That's like unfoldin' the sheet and makin' a bed with it or something. So if there are millions and millions of light year things between here and Earth…"

Sheldon paled. Penny grinned. She liked moments like this.

"That's one hellova messy sheet to launder." she said. "Be somethin' else for the police to work out. Why is there only half a dead body?"

"That's certainly a consideration." Ponder agreed. He wasn't a cruel man by any means. But the look on Sheldon's face was something to be cherished and brought out from memory to examine, if he ever felt depressed.

"But you had a Professor Rothman too. So did we. He lived in these rooms. He, er, died three years ago." Ponder said.

"Ours went nuts." Leonard said. "Got shipped off to a quiet home in the country out near Santa Barbara. The sort of retirement home where there ain't any sudden loud noises and people talk gently to you. You know?"

"And your Professor Rothman was, er, retired, three years ago?" Ponder asked, quietly. It felt like a coincidence too many. Leonard went very quiet and thoughtful.

And then Johanna arrived. She tried not to scowl at Sheldon.

"I got you some things, Penny." She said. "It occurred to me thet the men eround you would not think of little important things. If you are staying overnight, you will need clean underwear tomorrow. I bought some in styles most like to those on Roundworld. I hope they will fit end not be too uncomfortable."

"Thanks, sweetie!" Penny said, relieved. "I was gonna rinse out the bra and underpants I arrived in. Try to find a radiator to dry them on. Which reminds me. How do you get water? And how do I heat it for a coffee?"

She reflected.

"Hell, where do I find coffee?"

"I elso brought tea end coffee end milk." Johanna said. "End sweet biscuits. Believe me, getting a more substantial meal in this University will not be an inconvenience. But the little things require more ettention."

They went off to the kitchen together.

"Did you bring peppermint tea. Doctor Smith-Rhodes?" Sheldon called, hopefully. Johanna ignored this.

"She'll probably have redbush." Ponder said, distractedly. His mind was running possible scenarios. They watched as Johanna explained the pump, and applied slippall, the universal Assassin-approved lubricant for long-disused machinery. After a while she and Penny shared pumping. It would take a long time for water to be drawn up here from ground level. Especially after so long. The smell of what the Californians knew as WD-40 permeated the air. The boys watched. Penny thought this was the story of her life.

"Best if we throw eway the first few buckets." Johanna said, practically.

"Yuk!" Penny said, as dirty water flowed from the pump.

"Keep tipping it down the sluice. Until it runs clean. Well – clean es it gets, enyway."

She kept pumping.

"Then we boil it. Or make tea end coffee with it. Ponder? I require a heating spell. Or a fire spell."

"Can I try?" Leonard asked, excitedly. He'd been reading about firemaking in Woddeley's. He was itching to give it a go. If on this world he could use magic…

Ponder intervened. Making fire was one of the first spells student wizards learned. But the trick was to do it safely and to be able to do it safely a second time. And he, Ponder Stibbons, felt that a novice magic user, one who'd only just realised he could do magic, one who was giddy with the possibilities, one whose perceptions of magic were shaped by romantic novels and games on his own world… well, if half the University burnt down, a lot of people were not going to be happy with Professor Ponder Stibbons.

"Let's do this together." He said, firmly. "Leonard, you're my pupil, yes? I'm your academic mentor. While Johanna and Penny are getting water. Watch what I do, and don't do anything till I tell you."

Leonard nodded assent. Ponder noted how eager he seemed. This could go several ways. He was keen for it to go in the right one.

"It's a wood-and-coal burning stove." he said. "Powers the radiators as well as being useful for cooking. As you can't easily call fire into existence out of nowhere – well, not for a mundane purpose like this – we need something to burn. So we need coal. Leonard, there are a couple of buckets outside the door? Thanks. Damn, is there anything we could use for kindling?"

"There's a feggot in the shopping beg." Johanna said, practically. She tipped another bucket of rusty-red water down the sluice.

Penny reflected that the old use of the word "faggot" was a bundle of firewood. And definitely nothing else. Johanna had mentioned the Blue Cat Club, in the context of it being a great girls' night out with no likelihood of men trying to hit on you. Penny understood this. She'd been to similar places in California.

Sheldon spoke up.

"I am reflecting on the information you provided." he said. "The strange coincidence of there having been two Professor Rothmans. One here, and one at Caltech. What I will take to be, for the purposes of this argument, three consensus years ago on both worlds, one Rothman here seemingly died and the other, on our world, had a crisis of mental stability."

"Went so nucking futjob that even Caltech noticed." Penny said.

"Indeed, Penny. Indeed. And when I inherited his basement storeroom following his departure, and transferred my hacky-sack recreation there as a safe and private place, I noticed no oddities in the environment. Until earlier today. This coincided, apparently, with Doctor Hofstadter being allocated this apartment. I suspect it re-opened a dormant link."

"Carry on." Ponder said. "Okay, Leonard. The trick is to layer coal with the wooden kindling and allow for air-spaces to draw oxygen into the furnace. With this sort of thing, magic only takes you so far."

Ponder was not, in Johanna's eyes, a practical man. But everybody on the Disc needed to learn some everyday practical skills. Or you could be eating raw food and drinking cold water. She reflected that visiting Californians needed to re-learn a few life skills belonging in the past of their planet. How long ago did Roundworlders have to do these things with more basic technology? Perhaps a century before modern California? She uncomfortably reflected that her world was behind the Roundworld in so many little ways…

"Now focus on the kindling and the coal. Imagine a small flame underneath the mass… a small one, Leonard! –Johanna, don't tip that water down the sluice just yet? Good, you're getting the hang of this… there's a kettle over there? Great. We can get a hot drink going. You're doing just fine, Leonard. You can unfocus now…"

But they don't have magic, Johanna thought, happier. Sensible everyday magic made lots of things easier. Provided it was done by somebody who knew what he was doing…

"We just need to feed the furnace every so often." Ponder said, closing the iron door. "It will slow-burn now and the stove can be used for cooking. The heat also warms water in this tank – is it filling? Thanks, Penny. Drives hot steam through the pipes. Gets the place warm. You need to check and top up every so often."

"Or things explode." Johanna said, practically. Sheldon snapped out of his contemplation again.

"Professor Stibbons, I'm wondering. Given a link may have pre-existed between here and Caltech, is it possible that there was only ever one Professor Rothman, who existed in both worlds?"

Ponder pulled up short. It sounded horribly, horribly, plausible. Academics, senior ones, did things like this all the time.

"You mean the guy pulled down two full-time salaries for tenured positions at two universities?" Leonard asked. "And kinda commuted between both?"

"Hey, two wages, but only worked part-time in both jobs?" Penny asked. "Great trick!"

"If a man born on this world also slipped un-noticed into ours." Sheldon said, "without HEX or skilled people to guide and instruct. The strain involved in fitting in may well have precipitated his insanity."

Ponder shook his head. "We found a body." He said. "Wizards who knew him identified him as Rothman. He got the usual wizards' funeral. I was there. And your Rothman on your world went to a… home for people with cognitive difficulties."

"Went nuts." said Leonard. "He's still there."

Ponder went on. "So it would appear, on the face of it, there were two Rothmans."

"And you said, Ponder, that the special window would shape itself to my personality and my needs." Leonard said. Penny nodded, soberly.

"And your personality expresses itself in a dingy basement room with bare sheetrock walls. Yeah, I can buy that." she said.

"Looks like it did. Or maybe it thought there was no need to change now another guy from Caltech moved in."

"I'll ask the Librarian to find out what he can about our Rothman." Ponder said. He struggled to remember. He'd discovered some time ago that over three thousand graduate Wizards lived in at the university.  (6) He couldn't be expected to recall all of them. Rothman had been one of the herd, unremarkable by wizardly standards. There'd been no reason for Ponder to get to know anything much about him. The man had been an anonymous Professor.

"We got his papers and research notes." Leonard said. "Our Rothman, that is. Physics Department asked me and Sheldon to go through them and assess if there was anything of worth. That's how he found the key."

Ponder nodded. "Do you still have them?" he asked.

"They're in a storage area somewhere. I can look for them, if you think it helps."

"It might." Ponder said. "I'm getting a feeling we've got a case of doppelgangers here."

Johanna had managed to get a kettle on to brew. She was now looking out of the special window in deep fascination.

"Got eny rope?" she asked. "If this is a route beck to Pesadena, one of us should test it. I went people to pull me beck out if enything goes wrong."

"Sweetie, you're not going to jump through that thing, are you?" Penny asked. Johanna grinned.

"Not till efter somebody gets some rope. End I've hed a cup of tea." she said.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Structural determinacy: in engineering, the theoretical and practical tests as to whether the bridge will stand up to traffic, the maximum breaking strain it can take in normal circumstances, and in layman's terms, whether it's still going to be there tomorrow morning.

(1) Very briefly. See my story Whys and Weres. The brevity of the marriage is explained by Ruth being an Assassin. Vetinari had remarked that this made her, in every applicable sense, a black widow.

(2) Ruth understood Caucasian was handy shorthand for white people. She wasn't so much at home with the parallel word used for her own ethnicity, as even after two or three days on Earth, she'd picked up that Negroid was definitely not context-neutral.

(3) Check out the covers of Osibisa's first few albums. Flying elephants feature prominently and in fact inspired me to import them to the Discworld. The music ain't bad either: West African rhythm meets European jazz-rock. But Africa dominates. Osibisi, or in Vondalaans the Stannieonderbeeste, feature in other tales. The tunes playing are The Dawn and Music for Gong Gong.

(4) But with more clothes on. Although Ruth sometimes forgot about Ankh-Morporkian sensitivities and dress conventions.

(5) On Roundworld, attributed to sardonic commentator Mark Twain when he heard about Hinduism.

(6) See The Science of Discworld: Darwin's Watch. In which every resident Wizard is rousted out by Ridcully and strong-armed into doing work.

Chapter 31: The structural stress test evaluation

Wheeler-Bell Thirty-one

The Einstein-Bosen bridge structural determinacy

In which the story advances, and Ankh-Morpork and Sheldon Cooper have a Copenhagen Interpretation Experience of their very own. The city has seen and survived many strange and eldritch things. But can it cope with Sheldon?

We last saw our heroes contemplating a new development offering them an alternative route for crossing to Pasadena from the Discworld. An intrepid explorer has stated her intention to perform practical tests of its stability and viability. This involves deploying high-tech Discworld equipment to test the structural stability of the unexpected bridge between worlds. A short continuation of the previous chapter.


Dinner at Howard and Bernadette's was a cheerful affair. Ruth enjoyed herself and got to know more about the people she'd have to work closely with whilst in Pasadena. She also wondered about Raj and Howard, who bickered like an old married couple. If it wasn't for the fact one was married and the other escorting a girlfriend, her first thought would have been "Blue Cat Club". It was known some outwardly married men used their wives as a sort of smokescreen, after all.(1) She shrugged, not bothered either way, and spent dinner getting to know Lucy, the were-deer. Getting a personal picture would be useful.

"Amy's lookin' after your dog, Raj." Bernadette said, patiently, trying to stop him fretting and complaining. "Cinnamon got the operation from two people who know what they're doin'. Hell, if I ever wanted a hysterectomy, I'd ask Amy to knock me out and stitch me up after, you know? Or Johanna."

"We do get a thorough training into what's in there, how to find it, where to make the incision and things, and how to recognise the bits you see, you know." Ruth said. "The Guild's big on that."

There was a thoughtful pause. Everyone around the table had heard a little about the Guild of Assassins.

"It would be." Howard muttered. Then a thought struck him.

"Hey, I wonder where Sheldon disappeared to this afternoon? I know Leonard and Penny went back with Ponder and Johanna. But they'd have said if they were takin' Sheldon too!"

HEX broke in during the dessert course.

++It is advisable for at least one of you to return to Caltech++he said. ++A situation has arisen requiring your presence.++

"What's happened, HEX?" Bernadette asked. "Is this to do with Sheldon goin' AWOL?"

There was a significant pause from the thinking engine. Then the voice spoke again from Howard's laptop.

++Yes.++

There was just a hint of reluctance about HEX. The curt monosyllable was telling.

"Ah-huh. He's got himself into something he can't handle, and he's screaming for our help. Figures." Howard said. "But I'm finishin' this moutabbeleh (2) first!" there were general nods of assent. Nobody seemed to be in a hurry.

++Actually, Professor Stibbons and Doctor Smith-Rhodes will require your assistance and active input.++

Raj finished his last spoonful.

"So Johanna and Ponder are in trouble?" he said. "That makes it different. Why didn't you say?"

"They are not in danger.++ Well, no more than usual, for Doctor Smith-Rhodes.++ But she will need your advice and opinions.++

Bernadette pushed her chair back and stood up.

"Clearin' up can wait." she said. "But don't think this gets you off the washin' up, Howard!"

"Guess coffee can wait, huh?" said Howard. There was general assent.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the Discworld, Johanna, Ponder, Leonard, Penny and Sheldon finished their tea and discussed the window and what it meant.

"Our Rothman was Professor of Trans-Temporal Portals." Ponder said, thoughtfully. "so it's not surprising that there's one's here, in his old rooms. Tell me about your Rothman, Leonard?"

"The sort of professor you wouldn't pay attention to, much. Gettin' close to retirement. Taught freshman and sophomore classes, didn't publish too much. Got the feeling he was just counting down the last couple of years before retirement. Met him at Department meetings and social events, but he didn't mix much with the younger guys. By the time he left there were a lot of younger guys in Physics."

Leonard paused and reflected. Would he, in his time, end up as the old guy in the department, a hangover from a previous age, fretting that what had once been exciting cutting-edge ideas were now yesterday's physics? Surrounded by young guys at most in their early thirties, feeling out of the loop, excluded and tired and old… he shuddered.

Meanwhile Ponder Stibbons was reflecting on all the old men in the Faculty, who displayed clear signs of being threatened and sidelined by up-and-coming younger wizards with bright ideas and concepts they found hard to understand. And as time passed there'd be less and less old Wizards and more and more younger ones… he shuddered slightly. He contemplated the Caltech example, which focused his thoughts. Funny how seeing a familiar situation from a different angle makes you think… he thought he could understand people like Windle Poons a bit better now.

Johanna finished her tea. She put the thought of Mr Mericet, one of the older members of the Assassin teaching faculty, out of her mind, feeling slightly guilty for being one of the up-and-coming younger people with exciting new ideas who were becoming more prominent in the Staffroom. She stood up.

So there is a portal." she said. "It opens up into a cellar room et Celtech to which only Sheldon possesses a key. We know, because it hes been eccomplished, thet it ellows people to pess from Celtech to this room. There are questions es to how long it hes been in existence end who or whet else may heve pessed ecross the portal previously. Sheldon says, end I believe him, thet for es long es he hes hed eccess, it hes only been a cellar storeroom, end the portal hes been inert."

"And the moment somebody who is from Caltech moves into this apartment after it has been empty for three years. The link is reawakened." Ponder said.

And the men on each side were both called Rothman." Penny said. "That's spooky, guys!"

"Ja." Johanna said. "But such things heppen."

"Especially here." Ponder said. "It's what this university does."

There was another long silence. Penny poured herself another cup. It was quite good tea. Johanna had said it was from her country, something called reboois.

"I wish I had Rothman's experimental notes." Ponder and Leonard said, virtually at the same time. They looked at each other.

"Wizards tend not to want to share." Ponder Stibbons said. "They can get bloody-minded about it. At least, the older men can. They don't want to share the credit for their work, or there's money in publishing research and they don't want to split it, and they want all the prestige for themselves. You can get a lot of status for a good research paper. In the old days you kept it to yourself because it meant actual power."

Leonard and Sheldon gave him looks that said "Yes. We know. And your point is?" Ponder suddenly realised he was describing academic reality on both worlds. It was oddly comforting to find points of familiarity.

"So you hide your research notes away where nobody can steal them. I was looking for ages for Rothman's after he died. Not even the Librarian could locate them. But we know he kept them!"

"We went through our Rothman's notes on behalf of the department." Sheldon said. "As he is still alive, technically speaking they are still his, but he has never asked for them in his new retirement abode. The University might take the point of view it is best suited to hold them and it has a right, under copyright and employment legislation, to material created in University time using University resources. This has yet to be tested out in a court of law, however."

"What did we do with them, Sheldon?" Leonard asked.

"Oh, there was little of interest there." Sheldon said, dismissively. "As I recall, Rothman was interested in the Einstein-Bosen Bridge, the theoretical idea that space-time can be curved back on itself and two points normally separated by vast gulfs of space and time might be brought together so they are in close proximity. And a safe stable link established between them that would permit transition of people and goods. As I say there was nothing novel or original there and little was of any ongoing interest. I secured his writings in long-term storage, for safety and such posterity as they are likely to attract."

Ponder nodded. The Library's darker and remoter recesses acted as the Dark Stack, the archive housing the papers, experimental and research notes, and general ephemera, of thousands of long -gone Wizards going back to Alberto Malich himself. But their Rothman's writings had not gone there. He and the Librarian had checked as thoroughly as they were able. It was a mystery. But a small one, among many more pressing things that Unseen University precipitated in the normal course of events.

"Mebbe we can retrieve them." Leonard said. Sheldon nodded, disinterestedly.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ruth had elected to remain in the apartment with Lucy. They had the dogs to supervise, for one thing. As another bonding thing, she suggested they took them out for a long walk. Lucy, who was happily petting Crème, agreed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Howard, Raj and Bernadette were driving back out to Caltech. It was agreed that two postgraduate researchers and an associated biochemist doctor, who while not on the Caltech staff and paid by a commercial company was a bonafide research associate, would have a legitimate reason to be in the premises in the late evening. Their presence would not be seen as out of place or remarkable.

HEX, speaking from a portable laptop, explained a little more about the situation, in a guarded sort of way. While Howard had the feeling they were not yet being told everything, he was fascinated and excited.

"The downstairs storeroom where Sheldon plays hacky-sack?" he said. "Hey, when we were tryin' to figure out what he did in there. He set up a prank where he used CGI special effects to make it look as if there were a portal to a different dimension he was exploring. When we saw the film loop he'd doctored and fed to our surveillance camera, and those tentacles came out and dragged him in. Realistic as anything!"

Raj nodded, remembering.

"Hey, do you think this is another set-up?" he asked. "Another bazinga? HEX, are you in on this?"

++No, Raj.++ the computer voice said. ++I appreciate it was a good practical joke.++Very droll.++ Vexingly, Doctor Cooper does not consult me first before doing potentially unwise things on the spur of the moment.++As you will recall from the episode with the Travelling Engine.++I fear we are going to have to restore another Sheldon Cooper situation, and set things right.++

"Story of our lives." Bernadette said, shrugging.

HEX silently calculated the probability that unless managed properly, tentacles may well become involved. He estimated a current fifty-five per cent probability, without skilled intervention.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna, putting aside all her furious thoughts on how this new development affected the situation, checked the length of rope was firmly attached to her. There had been a hiatus while she'd sent a message back to the Guild to request a few additional tools. The message had been sent, discreetly, to her alternate in Raven House, using a pseudonym that she knew she'd recognise. It had been odd to despatch Ponder to send an urgent Clacks to herself. She had discreetly alerted him to this other aspect of the situation and said that in some way yet to be understood or perhaps even yet to be initiated, Sheldon Cooper had created two versions of herself.

She had asked to speak to him privately, out of earshot of the others. Ponder groaned, and did the face-palm thing.

"Two of you?" Ponder said, looking thoughtful.

"Ja. My elternate is reticent to tell me about events in her past but in my future. She does essure me it will all restore itself in a day or two, though. She was definite ebout thet."

She read the look on Ponder's face.

"End do not get ideas, Ponder. A little of Howard Wolowitz hes rubbed off on you. I cen see it in your face!"

Half an hour or so later, a Student Assassin arrived at the University with a coil of rope and some other working tools that Miss Smith-Rhodes had sorted out, with strict instructions that they were to be handed directly over to Professor Stibbons, to be delivered to a Graduate Assassin who was working on a contract for the University. Ponder thanked the student and asked if she were to be offended if offered a tip.

"Only if it's too small, sir!" the Raven House girl said, cheerfully. Ponder grinned and gave her a dollar. Johanna – the Johanna who was here – had insisted.

"Mention to Miss Smith-Rhodes that it might be nice if we saw each other soon." he said, meaning the Johanna who was there. The girl smiled, knowingly, and said she would.

And now Johanna was checking the fit and secureness of the harness she was wearing. The fixing point was in the middle of her back, to suit her centre of gravity and to ensure an even pull that would not cause any damage if she had to rely on it.

"You don't have to do this." Ponder said, doubtfully. "I could have got a couple of Bledlows to fetch Rincewind here. You know we use him for jobs like this. It's his job description, after all!"

"I know, Ponder." she said. "But the one thing we do not need right now is Rincewind in Celifornia. There are too many rendom factors es it is, end Rincewind is a megnet for trouble. He ettrects it!"

"Good luck, hon." Penny said, trying not to look too concerned. They did the friendly kiss thing. It was reassuring.

"Just hold the rope end be prepared to pull me beck if I give the signal." Johanna said. "I em reasonably sure I will errive et Celtech. But we do not know for certain if the portal will elways open in Celifornia. The fect it works in one direction is no certainty it will lead you to the same place when trevelling the other way. Eppearances may deceive."

She looked through the window into the empty basement room which, to all intents and purposes, was a basement room in Pasadena.

"End if the portal were to close, you would see the rope epperently snep." she said. "Is thet correct, Ponder? If I em in Celtech, then I will be in no danger. I can leave and go to a place of safety. The epertments et North Los Robles, or to Amy's, or to Howard end Bernadette. Thenk you for the eddresses, Penny."

She smiled.

"If I em sent somewhere else, however, then the situation is different."

She patted her waist. Going to California, she had been careful to leave the visible weapons here. But she was not unarmed. HEX had insisted she carry a thaumic tracker. Picking up somebody sent to a random destination in space and time took… well, time, to investigate a lot of Space… but it had been done. (3)

She climbed onto the windowsill, looked down into a place an unguessable number of light years away by the conventional route, and jumped.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Howard, Bernadette, Raj and HEX's Californian presence arrived at the basement storeroom in Caltech. Raj tried the door. It was locked.

"Got the key, Howard?" he asked.

"Ummm…" said Howard. There was an embarrassed silence. Bernadette did the face-palm thing.

++A key may not be necessary.++ HEX said. ++We should wait.++

"Nothing horrible is going to emerge, HEX?" Raj asked. "Nothing dangerous?"

"Yeah. Tentacles." Howard said, nervously.

++That depends on your definition of the word "dangerous"++ HEX said, dispassionately. ++The person I anticipate is dangerous, certainly.++But she regards you as friends.++

"Oh. Johanna." said Bernadette, with a surge of relief.

They listened. After a while there was a slight thud in the room. Then the sound, slight but there, of somebody moving around. It approached the door. A metallic scratching and scraping sound was faintly heard.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna landed lightly on the dusty concrete floor. She took stock of her surroundings. A bean-bag, a children's toy, laid discarded. A single rack of shelves with cardboard crates on them. She examined one. It had a "property of Caltech" label on it. That was reassuring. She checked for booby-traps, out of habit, then tipped a box down towards her. It weighed heavy and appeared to be full of files and papers. She replaced it, not looking more closely. So this was Caltech, then.

She made the quick double-tug on the rope that signalled all was well. There was an answering single tug from Penny. Looking back, she regarded the glowing, roughly oval, shape on the wall with fascination. The rope disappeared into it. The strange glow made it impossible to see beyond, but she knew Unseen University and her friends would be there. That was reassuring. The glowing ovoid was about five feet tall and three wide, no problem to leap or scramble through.

She moved to the door. It would be locked. Sheldon had been persuaded to give her his key, but she felt it was more of a professional challenge to pick the lock. Roundworld locks were finer and had far smaller moving parts, meaning more precision was called for, but the principles were the same.

A minute or so later, the door swung open and she was relieved to see Howard, Raj and Bernadette clustered in the corridor outside.

"You knew I would be here?" she asked, as the three came in.

"HEX sent us." Howard said. "Oh… wow…"

She quickly dissuaded Howard from exploring the portal too closely, and brought them up to date on current events.

"So. Just as Lucy became a were-creature on your world, it turns out Leonard on your world is a magician." Raj said. "Hey. A real wizard?"

Johanna nodded. "Just so, Raj. "The university there hes offered to teach him how to use it safely. End responsibly. It is something of a shock to Leonard, es he did not know this. This is why he hes not returned as yet."

"Real magic." Howard said, enviously. "Leonard always wondered what a world runnin' on magic looked like."

"And now he's findin' out." Bernadette said. "Johanna. What superpowers is Penny gettin'?"

"Nothing out of the ordinery - es yet." Johanna said. "But I suspect the skills end ebilities she elready hes are going to be very useful to her!"

So what about this?" Raj asked. Howard was investigating the rope leading from the harness Johanna was wearing, which disappeared at a point roughly halfway up the wall. Inside the glowing oval.

"Ja. Thenk you." She said, reaching behind her to tug the rope twice in fast succession. The others saw the slack rope suddenly pull tight, once, and then sag again. Nobody had apparently tugged on it.

Johanna turned and went to the vortex.

"Let me test this…" she leaned forward and into the light. The others saw her body disappear into the wall, cutting her off somewhere in mid-torso at a slanted angle. She lifted and wiggled a foot to show she was still alive.

"Holy freak." Bernadette said, in a low disbelieving voice.

Johanna saw that for some reason, the vortex from this side opened up to a point in space, between three and four feet away from the window which Leonard and Ponder were standing behind, looking anxiously at her. The rope stretched over the gap and through the window. She glanced down. There was a drop of perhaps ninety to a hundred feet to a courtyard in Unseen University. A couple of pointy hats ambled by, unconcerned and not looking up. She wondered about the discontinuity. From the UU side, the vortex opened directly into Caltech. From the Caltech side, there was a gap. She'd have to ask Ponder. But three or four feet… nothing to an experienced edificeer. Sheldon had managed it, responding with commendably fast reflexes when he had blithely stepped through.

"Johanna, I can only see the top half of you!" Leonard said.

"I essure you all of me is here." she replied. She described what she was seeing. Ponder frowned.

"We're seeing into the cellar room." he reported. "We can see Raj, Howard and Bernadette. Are they aware of us?"

"I think not." Johanna replied. "Please wait."

She pulled herself back into Caltech. The others were reassured to see all of her reappear, with no tentacles or missing parts.

"Howard. With extreme care. Please lean forward into the vortex. Keep your feet firmly plented on this side."

Howard felt only a slight tingle. He yelped as he looked down and saw the drop. He was aware of Johanna steadying him with a firm hand gripping his belt-buckle. He appreciated this. It was a long way down. Then he looked into a different world and saw Leonard and Ponder at a window he could almost reach out and touch.

"Hi, guys." he said. Then he sniffed. "What's that smell?" he asked.

"Whet smell?" Johanna asked, innocently, from his side. She'd got used to it after nearly ten years. But she'd seen the reactions of Lucy and Penny to Ankh-Morpork.

Leonard reached out a hand. Howard reciprocated. Both leaned forwards and they shook hands across the gap.

"Is that a Harry Potter robe?" Howard asked. Leonard grinned back.

"Long story. Comin' over? Sheldon's here."

Howard looked down.

"I gotta jump over that?"

"Over what?" Leonard asked. There was a moment of confusion.

"If you are nervous, I cen lend you this harness." Johanna offered. Howard stood back and Bernadette took her turn. Again, Johanna steadied her with an arm around her waist.

"Oh…wow!" Bernadette exclaimed. She took in Ankh-Morpork, or such of it as was visible. Then she grimaced.

"What's that smell?"

"You get used to it." Johanna said. "Went to visit?"

Raj took a turn and exchanged greetings. He sniffed the air.

"Reminds me of India." he said. "Kind of homely."

"Now I consider I should bring you all ecross, so we cen telk." she said. "The portal offers a means, I think, of getting you ell home egain efter a brief visit. But we need to discuss how it came to be. Thet is something Ponder end I find puzzling. Sheldon is pert of the problem, I think."

Bernadette, Howard and Raj all nodded, sagely. In unison.

"Sheldon. Part of the problem. Yeah. Right." Howard said. Nobody seemed surprised.

Johanna smiled.

"You hev all seen the vortex opens up to a point in space perheps a hundred feet above the ground." she said, as if addressing a class of students. "But the jump is no further than four feet. I will speak to Ponder ebout the possibility thet the gep may be edjusted. Think only of the four feet between you end the window."

Bernadette raised a nervous hand, as if she were back in school again. Johanna nodded, falling into teacher mode.

"Johanna? You're wearing a harness. And a safety rope."

"Thet was es a precaution in case things went wrong. I will take it off. Who wishes to wear it?"

It was agreed Howard should be first. Johanna supervised his wearing the harness, this time with the rope's mounting centred on his chest. Then she tensed herself in front of the vortex, braced her legs, and leapt. The three watched her disappear.

Leonard saw Johanna leap into the air from the storeroom. Then she was at the window as if it was on film and the intervening frames had been removed to leave a jump-cut. He ducked as she flowed through the window space, rolling athletically and landing lightly on her feet well inside the room(4). Penny, who was holding onto the rope, looked on in surprise. She tugged the rope. Somebody tugged back.

"Thet is Howard." Johanna said. "He will be next. Ponder, Sheldon, Leonard. Be ready to pull the rope in, if there is a problem. Penny, come to the window with me, so we cen cetch him."

Howard leapt with his eyes closed. He was aware of strong hands grabbing him and pulling him inside.

"It gets easier." Johanna reassured him. She helped him out of the harness and threw it back through the window. Then she followed to ensure Raj was wearing it correctly. Raj took a deep breath of Ankh-Morpork through his nose. He saw Penny and Leonard waiting to receive him. Penny smiled and beckoned.

"New Delhi on a cool day." he remarked. Then he jumped. Bernadette jumped too when the harness popped back through the wall as if it was made of fresh air. Johanna smiled reassuringly and helped her put it on.

"Four feet. End you are wearing a safety rope. You have jumped longer distances, yesno?"

Bernadette considered, then hitched her skirt up. She was wearing thick black pantyhose, after all. She kicked out and leapt…

Then Penny and Leonard were steadying her and helping her into a strange and unfamiliar room. She was glad of their arms around her. But….

"Leonard?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Don't think I don't appreciate you catchin' me and everything. You got safe hands. But… could you just move your right hand a foot or so up? Thanks!"

"Oh. Sorry." he said. Penny laughed.

Then they stepped back as Johanna returned.

"Well, I think we have proven thet the vortex is stable. Et least for now." she said. "now we should consider how it came to be end why. Lord Vetinari will undoubtedly hev en opinion to express ebout this!"

Penny winced. She'd met Vetinari. He was not, she sensed, a guy to get pissed with you. Ponder was also looking sombre.

Johanna smiled at the new arrivals.

"It seems we are, for now, all here save Amy end Lucy. Welcome to Enkh-Morpork!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Structural determinacy: in engineering, the theoretical and practical tests as to whether the bridge will stand up to traffic, the maximum breaking strain it can take in normal circumstances, and in layman's terms, whether it's still going to be there tomorrow morning.

(1) Male Dwarfs in a close and private mutual arrangement were inclined to refer to this sort of thing as having a beard.

(2) Moutabbeleh is actually a very nice middle Eastern dessert, known across the Levant, which looks like a milk blancmange but which is flavoured with rose water and sugar and usually served with chopped nuts, unless you're Howard Wolowitz. It tastes of Turkish Delight and is very easily made at home, if you know the trick. Kosher too, if you accept that all meat needs to be off the table from the main course and the table itself cleaned down to avoid the possibility that residual particles of lamb are holding on in there for the dessert course. Bernadette was stricter on this than Howard. She'd promised his mom.

(3) Shameless plug; see my story Rincewind Among The Redskins, where this is accomplished to recover Rincewind from a strange foreign place a century before his birth. HEX and the Luggage intervene. The Luggage was another reason why Johanna didn't want Rincewind on this trip. Even in California something that strange would get noticed.

(4) She didn't have to do a somersault. But Assassins should be stylish and showboat a bit. It's good for the corporate image.

Chapter 32: The Cephalalgia Aversion

Wheeler-Bell Thirty-Two

The Einstein-Bosen bridge structural determinacy

In which the story advances, and Ankh-Morpork and Sheldon Cooper have a Copenhagen Interpretation Experience of their very own. The city has seen and survived many strange and eldritch things. But can it cope with Sheldon?

We last saw our heroes contemplating a new development offering them an alternative route for crossing to Pasadena from the Discworld. An intrepid explorer has stated her intention to perform practical tests of its stability and viability. This involved deploying high-tech Discworld equipment to test the structural stability of the unexpected bridge between worlds.

This having been accomplished, the implications of this are another headache for Johanna and Ponder to resolve. And Ruth gets a sociology lesson. Now read on….

With thanks to reader Liz for the really nice review, which unfortunately didn't have the "reply" button enabled. Will this do? Thank you!

Things settled down in Ankh-Morpork as the new ripple in what passed for the stream of reality spread and faded.

At Unseen University, Penny and Leonard settled down for the night. There had been a lively discussion about the portal and its implications that had gone on for some time. Sheldon had asked where the bathroom was. Johanna, with a quiet private half-smile on her face, had directed him. She motioned everyone else to wait, and silently counted. She had got as far as nine when there was a strangled scream and Sheldon returned in some haste. He looked shaken.

"Excuse me, Doctor Smith-Rhodes." he said. "There is a pressing need for me to return to Pasadena. I may stay in my own home tonight. Near a bathroom I can trust."

He scrambled through the special window, and was lost to view.

"Our plumbing end senitery errangements are not es edvenced es Celifornia." she said, drily.

Sheldon did not return. Johanna had not expected him to.

After a couple of hours of moebius discussion, Bernadette, Raj and Howard had returned to Pasadena. Bernadette expressed relief that the return journey was less nerve-wracking. Ponder and HEX assured her that if the portal could not be closed, they'd look into the discontinuity that meant the journey in involved leaping a short gap that was over a hundred-foot drop, but the way back just involved climbing out of a window and directly into a Caltech basement. He agreed this was another little oddity that didn't quite add up. They were asked to lock the door behind them and keep watch, to ensure nobody outside the group pinky-swear got to know of this.

Ponder suggested a refinement, based on his own practice at Unseen University, when he wanted to keep senior wizards from looking too closely at things in the High Energy Magic building or the Thaumatological Park.

He asked Howard to run off an official-looking notice, saying something like

Caltech Department of Physics. Repository for Accounting and Financial Records (1976 – present).

And to pin it prominently on the door of the vortex room.

Howard grinned.

"Neat idea, Ponder. Nobody is going to want to go into a room with that on the door."

"Epart from en eccountant." Johanna said, but she smiled anyway.

"Believe me, it works." Ponder said. He felt it had been an inspired notion. Ridcully and the Faculty tended to grunt and turn away in disinterest. He'd concealed a lot of things that way.

Ponder had taken Leonard aside for a quiet word, professional wizard-talk. Johanna and Penny noted this was done very seriously and soberly in low voices. Ponder reminded Leonard the HEX link was open, if anything happens you need guidance with, and you'll know, and wished them a very good night.

Then Ponder and Johanna excused themselves. It was late. It had been a long day.

Leonard waited for them to go. Then he lifted the Californian hoodie he'd arrived in, seemingly carelessly discarded on a tabletop. Underneath it was Howard's disregarded laptop computer. Raj had tucked it inside his shirt when he had jumped.

Penny's eyes widened and she grinned.

She said that if he could get an Internet signal from here, she'd allow him to attempt a form of coitus she had hitherto firmly vetoed every time the subject came up for negotiation.(1) "Besides, what happens when the battery runs out?" she said, practically. "If we gotta live here for a while, hon, best we go cold turkey straight away!"

"Howard had a few ideas." Leonard said. "Ran them past me when Johanna had to go to the bathroom and Ponder had to go out to talk to HEX privately."

He opened the laptop. It bleeped on and played the Microsoft theme. It was a reassuringly familiar noise in this strange place.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucy and Ruth had taken the dogs for a long late-night walk. Lucy had died a death inside when they'd encountered a group of street-guys who looked like informal tax-gatherers. But something about the combination of Ruth and two big powerful dogs, that had growled at them, had been a deterrent. They had been allowed to pass, although a couple of the guys had heckled Ruth in Compton street-talk.

Ruth had turned, looked one in the eye, and just silently stood there. It helped that Kaffee had turned into one huge intent menacing growl. It was, Lucy reflected, the flip-side of Ridgebacks, the thing South Africans valued them for.

The group turned away and slouched off, trying to give an impression that a ho like Ruth wasn't worth their valuable time right now. Ruth exhaled. She made a comment that sounded like "skebengera". Lucy didn't ask.

"I need to remind myself," Ruth said, "that not all black people in the USA are like that." She was both angry and somewhat shakened. If anyone had spoken to her like that at home – and she had to remind herself she called two places Home, Ankh-Morpork and the Zulu Empire – at the very least she would have delivered a short lesson in politeness. Sam Vimes would have backed her up. And at Home, debased people like that, had they dared approach a Paramount House member so disrespectfully, would have found the rest of an abbreviated life to be full of painfully interesting things. But here, she had been advised to keep a low profile. Which ruled out getting into fights for anything except demonstrable self-defence. And while she was used to occasional incivility and sexually unwelcome comment from white-skinned people, getting it from those who shared her skin colour was something new and unpleasant.

They walked on, and Lucy shared what she knew or had heard about gang culture in places like Watts and Compton.

"It won't be long before a police patrol shows up and asks those guys what they're up to so far away from Watts." Lucy reassured her. "The police departments don't care too much for gang-bangers coming to places like Pasadena by night. They prefer them to stay in the ghetto areas."

"Ah. Like townships." Ruth said. She knew how this song was performed. And a black people treated as a despised underclass, with low expectations and poor education, in a deprived area of a very rich country which within living memory for many had practiced a sort of apartheid. You'd get debased people turning to crime and violence. Of course you would. She felt a sympathy for those people whilst still despising them. And a certain shame that black people could be like that. She felt it was only to be expected of the white-skinned underclass in the Shades. Expecting her own race to somehow be morally superior whilst living in their own Shades was, she realised, unrealistic. People were people. It was a useful lesson.

"Their attitude to women is… disrespectful. It requires correction." Ruth said to herself.(2) Lucy started, alarmed. When Ruth was angry, if you closed your eyes and listened you could think it was Johanna talking. Not as strong an accent, but….

"Hey. I see where you're comin' from." she said. Memories of the recent night where she'd Turned Deer surfaced. She reminded herself that two big dogs bred for hunting, if they saw a deer… and she sensed the Change could not happen here. But she was with a trained Assassin… a woman trained to deliver trouble. Decisively so. It was worrying.

"Don't correct anyone? Here? The cops wouldn't understand." Lucy pleaded. Ruth smiled and composed herself.

"You're right, Lucy. I will continue to restrain myself." she said.

Eventually they returned, without further incident. After a while, Bernadette, Raj and Howard returned, looking quiet and somehow changed, as if something big had happened. Ruth wasn't surprised at their story.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny winced.

"Ok, so if you set it up by the portal, by this window, you get an Internet signal." she conceded. Reluctantly.

"The Einstein-Bosen bridge allows a wireless Internet signal to pass!" Leonard said, excited. "This is interesting!"

"Well, yeah." she said. "But the battery's still gonna run out. How are you gonna recharge? Ain't no electricity here!"

Leonard saw the point. But here, in this unique place, Caltech's Internet and Infranet connections still worked….

++Leonard?++ I am watching with interest.++It is a unique experiment.++I will use my good judgement and allow your Internet access to continue.++ For now.++ But I will still report this to Professor Stibbons.++

"Understood, HEX."

Leonard shut down the laptop. It was enough to know the connection was there, and he needed to conserve the battery life. For now. And he had to remind Penny of an implicit promise she'd just made…

And eventually, people in both worlds slept. Leonard awoke, or thought he had, into a strange place with black sand underfoot. He felt anxiety as the sand crunched, strangely cold, under his bare feet. Seriously unfamiliar stars glimmered overhead in a black sky. There was an unwelcome motif of cold and blackness in a place lit by some unseen light. Even the light felt black and cold. But he sensed this was not a nice place. Not at all. A memory surfaced of a conversation with Ponder Stibbons.

You're a new magic user. It's new to you. You're vulnerable. I need to tell you, carefully and seriously, that you will be tested. In a sense you've lit a match in a dark room. I wish I could say that only attracts moths….

Leonard walked on, on guard now.

We all have to walk this path. Pretty much alone. It's like a test. Initiation. If you keep your head and act sensibly….

Ponder's words had been a serious warning. Leonard Hofstadter, doctor of physics, but here a novice magic user, braced himself for the form the Test would take. Johanna had also spoken of the Final Run for trainee Assassins. Where you either Passed or Failed. With capital letters. Was this a Wizard version? He tensed, and shivered against the cold.

GOOD EVENING.

Leonard jumped. He could hear the voice, yes. But who had spoken?

DON'T MIND ME. I'M JUST OBSERVING. THUS FAR.

Leonard sensed a tall dark shape just behind him and to his right. He really didn't want to turn and see the speaker.

YOU MIGHT CALL THIS ONE OF THOSE QUANTUM SITUATIONS. WHERE YOU'RE NEVER QUITE SURE. SOMETHING ABOUT PARTICLES AND WAVES AND THE OBSERVER ALTERING THE EXPERIMENT.

"The double-slit experiment." Leonard found himself saying. "Polarized light. Can be a wave or a particle stream. Umm."

ALL VERY PERPLEXING, I AGREE. IT ADDS A NEW DIMENSION TO BEING AN OBSERVER.

"Errr. Who am I speaking to, please?"

STRANGELY, I COULD ASK THAT OF YOU. NORMALLY I KNOW.

There was a pause. Leonard heard the unseen person humming in a leaden monotone. It sounded like the engaged tone on a cellphone. Then:

AH. There was a pause as if the unseen person was listening to somebody on the other end of a phone. Then he said DOCTOR LEONARD LEAKEY HOFSTADTER, I BELIEVE? I'M DEATH, BY THE WAY.

A skeletal hand was extended. Leonard took it. Strangely, it didn't feel so icky. He even felt a little bit better about it, as if the entity he was handshaking was somehow being genuinely friendly. Or attempting it.

"Err…. Hi."

Leonard supposed a seven-foot tall animated skeleton with glowing blue eyesockets in a hooded black cowl was strange, rather than scary.

YOU ARE NOT OF MY WORLD. I HAD TO ASK FOR INFORMATION FROM A PROFESSIONAL COLLEAGUE. AND I WOULD BE OBLIGED IF YOU STRIVE NOT TO DIE HERE. AS YOU ARE NOT FROM MY JURISDICTION THERE WOULD BE PAPERWORK. FORMS TO COMPLETE. IN TRIPLICATE. LIAISING WITH MY PROFESSIONAL EQUAL ON YOUR WORLD TO ARRANGE SHIPPING. YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW MUCH TIME THINGS LIKE THIS TAKE FROM THE DUTY.

"So it's not for definite that I die here?" Leonard asked, relieved. He was amazed how calm he was being.

IT DEPENDS IF YOU ARE THE WAVE OR THE PARTICLE. Death said, dispassionately. AND TO BE HONEST I HAVE NO TIME AT ALL FOR THOSE PEOPLE OVER THERE. YOUR TASK IS TO VANQUISH THEM, I BELIEVE. GOOD LUCK!

Death vanished. Leonard looked over and saw them. They were clearly visible in a circle of light. He had a sudden surge of terror. And they were aware of him. What he presumed to be heads turned to regard him. They had to be heads. Didn't they? They were roughly at the upper end of what, for want of a better word, could be taken to be bodies.

Then, with no sensation of their having crossed the intervening space, they were surrounding him. Leonard looked around him and gibbered with fear.

Leonard Hofstadter. Join us. Become one with us.

Leonard looked into a series of mis-matched tentacles, mandibles, eyes on stalks, eyes in turrets, clustered arachnid eyes, scales, chitinous exoskeletons, and other things that must surely have been assembled from the leftovers box on the eighth day. One of the creatures was about nine feet tall and humanoid. Which is to say it had a torso, two arms and two legs, and a head. But the head was bald and the lower part of it was a mass of waving tentacles. It all looked horribly familiar from somewhere…

It inclined non-human eyes down to Leonard.

You have a destiny, Leonard Hofstadter. Through you we can build a presence in not one world but two. In the world of magic, and the world of science. We require your mind. Surrender it to us. We will reward you.

Leonard knew, from a deep-down place, that surrendering would be the worst thing he could do.

"Where the Hell am I?" he demanded, finding his voice. "Did I take a wrong turn and end up in Arkham?"

The Cthulhu – thing laughed. It was not a nice laugh.

Oh yes. Howard Philips Lovecraft. A denizen of your world with the sort of dreaming mind we like. He had promise. After making contact, we ensured he had some very vivid dreams indeed. He wove tales around what he saw. They established us in the minds of millions on your continuum of worlds. Your world has no magic to sustain us, but the imaginations of the many offer some sustenance.

Leonard gulped. The Things clustered closer. He felt very alone.

We have a presence there. People read the books of Howard Philips Lovecraft and those who came after him, and wonder, in the dark corners of their minds, if such things may be true and the human race really does inhabit an island of light in an infinite ocean of darkness. Populated by us. That is a sort of belief that offers us sustenance. We who are of the Dark find it pleasing. We are your Gods.(3)

Leonard sensed another voice trying to grab his attention. He tried to slow his terror to listen to it.

++Leonard?++I am here.++I cannot manifest as I would like, as to do so requires magical power.++These things feed on magic.++I fear even this tiny presence here offers a trickle of magic they can live on.++

"HEX, what do I do?"

Do not fear the Dark, Leonard. Embrace it. Give us your mind.

++Do not use magic, Leonard.++To do so would be a grave error.++They have no power except to frighten.++Your mind is yours and cannot be surrendered.++

"Ah-huh. How do I get back?"

There was no reply from HEX.

You have the science which is power on your world. You have the potential for magic which is power on the Discworld. This makes you important to us. Join us, Leonard.

A prompt came up from Leonard's hindbrain. The only way back was to go forward. To fight. He folded his arms and forced himself to confront Cthulhu. "Hell", he thought. "Weren't there any number of pages on tvtropes with names like Did You Just flip Off Cthulhu?"

But he drew the word up from deep down.

"No." he said. "It ends here."

And he waited for the response.

No? Cthulhu said, surprised.

"No." Leonard replied. He felt surprise that he wasn't being eaten alive, or having his soul stripped from his body to be flayed alive for eternity. The quiet sane thought crossed his mind that maybe they couldn't. That this was all bluff. This gave him a little strength.

So be it.

Then Cthulhu vanished. And something infinitely more terrible, utterly frightening, and soul-searingly horrible, appeared in its place. Of all the manifestations the Things could have taken, this one was a Thing out of Leonard Leakey Hofstadter's personal Hell. All the way from the depths of its Seventh Circle.

It was a woman, of about five feet nine in height. She was apparently in her middle fifties, in a sober dark-blue dress suit, impeccably dressed, wearing sensible flat shoes. Her brunette hair was coifed in a severe style and she wore austere glasses on a bony, ascetic, face. A certain type of man would find her intoxicatingly attractive.

"Mother?" Leonard said, faltering.

"Leonard." said Beverley Hofstadter. She looked down at her son with the usual sort of appraising look that managed to convey what a disappointment he was to her.

"I really hope you aren't going to be difficult, Leonard. All you need to do is to allow my co-researchers access to your mind. So they can use it and take what they need. Is that really so difficult a concept to grasp? Your siblings would see it at once."

Leonard wavered. His mother continued. She smiled at him.

"And I can give you the love and approval you sought as a child. It is here for you, Leonard."

She reached out her arms, keen to grasp the advantage.

"Leonard? Mother's home. Come to mother!" (4)

Leonard stepped forwards as his mother made to hug him. Then rage filled him and he punched her. Hard. The glasses didn't so much break as reabsorb into a face that wavered in confusion and then started to sprout Cthulhu tentacles, as if unsure of what form it should be taking. Leonard screamed and followed through the punch with a kick. It wasn't hard, but it didn't need to be. The Beverley-thing collapsed into a writhing heap of protoplasm which had one of his mother's legs sticking out of it, still absurdly wearing the sensible shoe, her arms briefly visible in a mass of tentacles.

"You goddam bastards!" he screamed, letting the rage flood out. "Using my mother! Very convincing, guys. Up until she offered to hug me! I tell you, my mother would never do that! Not in a million goddamm years!"

Leonard was relieved it all appeared to be resolving itself in tentacles. After his mother, tentacles were nothing. He knew where he was with tentacles. He'd played enough D&D, after all. And Call of Cthulhu. Ignoring the fallen Thing, he ran at the rest, letting rage carry him. Realising how little actual physical strength they had was comforting. It was all tentacles and bluff. He knocked down another by kicking one of its legs. There was an audible snapping cracking nose, and it slumped. The rest of the Things scattered and ran from him. They seemed to be panicked. He felt good, in the midst of an unaccustomed berserker rage.

Behind him, he was dimly aware of the seven-foot skeleton with the unblinking blue eye-sockets. It stood over the fallen Beverley-Thing.

THE PARADOX HAS RESOLVED ITSELF. YOU ARE THE PARTICLE AND NOT THE WAVE, I THINK. AND YOU BELONG DEAD.

The scythe swung. Leonard was aware of a presence close to him. He heard its voice.

++Leonard?++ The emergency has passed.++I can report that you have succeeded.++He Who Controls The Big Red Lever has passed over you in his Duty.++They will not bother you again.++Shall we return?++

"Sure thing, HEX." Leonard said, as the rage abated.

There was a sensation of moving very fast whilst remaining in the same space. Black sand, a light that never warmed, and strange stars in a black sky, all vanished. Then Leonard awoke in bed next to Penny, his heart pounding and adrenaline surging. Penny rolled over in her sleep and went "Astwfgl?"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ruth listened to the tales of the others' brief visit to the Discworld with interest and a little alarm. Lucy expressed an interest in using this new way of getting to the exciting other world for herself.

"So it's like Narnia?" she said. "You've discovered a magical closet with a door in back? Seriously cool!" she said.

"Well, it's a basement storeroom." Howard replied. "But yeah, that's it. Like Narnia, only for real. But that city's got a sanitation problem. Gotta plug your nose!"

"Yeah. That's what I noticed too." Lucy replied. "But they don't have cars. Johanna said our world stinks of exhaust fumes. First thing she noticed. They got horses and cattle to pull carts. And horses and cows sorta… well, it must build up over the years."

"Oh, that's that sort of burnt smell that's everywhere?" Ruth said. "Like an alchemist's lab after they've been experimenting with black oil from Klatch? I've never known it that strong!"

"Lucy?" Raj said. "you had this little – problem – on Johanna's world? Does it worry you that it might happen again if you go over?"

"The were-deer thing? Johanna and Ponder said they can put me in touch with other people who it happens to." Lucy said. "They can teach me how to handle it. Get it under control. I'd like to find out more about it. Amy said something about how beta-blockers might help?"

"Worth a try, hon. I'll get a supply from work." Bernadette said.

Ruth wondered who to talk to about this. Especially after hearing some of Howard's ideas about how to exploit the bridge between worlds. She hoped Johanna would be back soon.

And after the rest had gone, she spent a couple of hours with a lap-top and HEX, finding more out about places like Watts and Compton and the people who lived there. She felt a little kinship, and some sympathy, but mainly horrified revulsion. Being black in the USA, she realised, was not necessarily as advantageous as being white. It took a long time to get over having once been slaves and then being kept in poverty and ignorance, subject to what amounted to apartheid. She read about black Americans who had managed to be successful, like Bill Cosby and Oprah Winfrey and Condoleeza Rice. And very many sporting icons. That at least offered some reassurance. She wondered about the contradictions and quirks of American society. Eventually she decided it was too big a subject to cover late at night when she was tired, and went to bed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And the next morning the two worlds awoke.

Leonard Hofstadter awoke to different sounds and smells and then memory asserted itself, in random incremental chunks. He was aware of the warmth and familiar sensation of early-morning Penny next to him. He still appreciated this. As the realisation set in that he'd woken up on an entirely different planet, Penny's nearness was a reassurance of normality to him. This helped as memories of the nightmare he'd had came flooding back in all its horrible technicolor vividity. He wondered how he was recalling it all so clearly. Things out of a Lovecraft novel. A seven-foot cowled skeleton with glowing electric-blue eyes claiming to be Death, and demonstrating He was actually well-disposed towards Leonard. The voice of HEX. Cthulhu itself manifesting. And then transforming into…. Leonard shuddered. His mother. His actual mother. The flash of the scythe as Death claimed his mother… the fight with her. Was it all wish-fulfilment? His deepest fears and desires played out in a dream?

He frowned. A few lines from Woddeley's Primer came back to him.

It cannot be stressed enough that the dreams of the Wizard carry the potential to be more than mere dreams….. thoughts and emotions are power. Many magics are performed by the head and the heart brought together in harmony… while a dream of a kitten in a basket of flowers is likely to be nothing more than the stage-production of the dreaming mind, should that kitten then transmogrify into a Noble Dragon and take wing, burning all in its path, the wise Wizard should take heed and seek to Remember…. For we all walk the Way in our dreams, and the Way has reality….

Leonard shook his head and swung his legs out of bed. Ponder and Johanna had shown them how the hot-water boiler functioned. There should be enough hot water for at least a basic wash… Johanna had managed to get towels out of one of the domestics. He was sure money had changed hands to ensure a good service.

He frowned. Was that sand under his feet? Something gritty in between his toes? He wondered where it had come from.

"Leonard?" Penny was waking up.

"Yes, hon?"

"Did you go anywhere last night? Walk anywhere in bare feet? I mean, there's sand in the bed. I can feel it under my feet!"

Leonard winced. He checked his feet. Black gritty sand? He decided he needed that talk with HEX and Ponder. Soon as he could.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ruth had a free morning at Caltech. With Johanna away, she could structure her day unsupervised. She elected to spend time in the gymnasium. Caltech had an amazing sports and physical recreation facility.

And she knew about the martial arts of her people. It often came as a surprise to people that Howondaland had martial arts. She had taken to kendo, the baton-fighting skill of Agatea, as something familiar to her. Miss Pretty Butterfly, Koukouchou-sama, had been surprised at her competence, and had watched her perform what to Agatean eyes were non-standard moves. Ruth had explained that Zulu culture had something similar, miss, called Nguni, a ritualised fighting form with batons and sticks which often employed bladeless assegais. The Agatean sensei had nodded and asked Ruth to explain and demonstrate her people's fighting style to her. And she had then suggested that Ruth augment her native skills with Agatean moves and techniques. Ruth also knew about Dambé, the way of the spear and shield. Or fighting bare-handedly as if you were holding a spear and shield. The Zulu version involved the delivery of high crippling kicks. Koucouchou-sama was a good teacher, who knew when to let a good pupil with previous experience take the best from Agatean martial art to augment her own training. Ruth added karate and judo to her portfolio of combat skills, developing a fighting style of her own.

Which led her to a gym at Caltech, where she took out a lot of anger and aggression on a hanging punchbag used normally by boxers and martial artists. Other users of the gym were drawn to watch. A hundred pound hanging punchbag bouncing around with every kick, as if the kicker fully intended to snap its retaining chain or rip it out of its ceiling mounting, was something you didn't see every day. Even Doctor Barry Kripke, going through moves on the climbing wall at one end of the gym, stopped to watch in awed appreciation. The tall well-built black chick who was kicking the hell out of the bag was a sight to see, too. And hey, hadn't he seen her on the Physics corridor?

When she'd worked through whatever it was that had got her mad and stepped back to relax, he had, very deferentially, walked over to introduce himself.

Ruth immediately placed the man, who was born to sidle through life, as being a kindred spirit to Sheldon, Leonard and the others. She decided to be courteous and, very carefully, tried to ignore the poor man's speech impediment. Although it was hard…

"I've seen you on Physics." he said, introducing himself.

"Well, yes. But I'm with Zoology. I'm Doctor Smith-Rhodes' graduate assistant. She got her office on the Physics corridor as it was the only immediately free space."

"I met her. Nice gal." Kripke said. "So you come from South Afwica too?"

"And you're a friend of Doctor Cooper and Doctor Hofstadter?"

"Cowweague." Kripke said. "Just because I wowk with them doesn't make us fwiends. But I guess they're okay guys, when you get to know them."

Ruth decided to go easy on him. In his way he seemed a pleasant guy. Awkward and socially inept, yes. But she'd made allowances for Howard and Raj and thought if this guy worked with them, she could give him the same courtesy. Physics, she decided, attracted academics who needed special consideration. She shrugged, and allowed Kripke to meet her and accompany her back to the office corridor after they'd both showered and changed. Howard and Sheldon and Raj would be there, anyway. Maybe Ponder and Johanna too, as they both needed to show up here. And it wasn't as if commuting to and from Ankh-Morpork was difficult, right now…
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna and Ponder arrived to say good morning, and to escort Leonard and Penny to breakfast in one of Unseen University's refectories.

Penny had discovered Johanna had thoughtfully included soap, shampoo and basic cosmetics in the survival bag she's brought over, and was thankful to her friend for having thought of these things.

"Hev you hurt yourself, Penny?" Johanna asked, innocently. "You eppear to be welking end sitting with care."

Leonard went slightly red. Penny gave him a Look. She whispered something into Johanna's ear. Johanna blinked. She looked at Leonard and tried not to grin.

"Oh. I see." she said. Some things require little explanation. And preferably in the fewest possible words. She gave Penny a sisterly pat on the shoulder.

"Perheps you should dress for this city?" Johanna suggested. "Wearing our clothes will help you blend in when we go out later. I hev a few things plenned, after breakfast. You will like the day, I hope."

The girls went off to dress.

Leonard explained to Ponder about his nightmare that somehow had felt like more than a nightmare. Ponder examined the sand in the bed, and frowned.

"Dungeon Dimensions, Leonard." He explained. "They always try this on a new magic user. HEX thinks you did admirably. He was there watching. But you put out strength and they won't bother you again. Well done."

Leonard shuffled uneasily.

"I'm real glad he was there, Ponder. But… is HEX watchin' me and Penny all the time?"

++There was a period of precisely twenty-three minutes and seventeen seconds where I considered discretion on my part was advisable, Leonard.++ said the voice of HEX, speaking loudly and clearly. ++I withdrew from this area whilst you and Penny were engaged in what Sheldon Cooper would describe as an act of coitus.++ From what I gleaned from subsequent conversation, you might be advised to provide a placatory gift, of perhaps flowers or good chocolates.++ I recommend Weiner and Boetchers, on Zephyr Street.++ Bellamys of Pelicool Steps, for flowers.++

"That's some apology, Leonard." Ponder said, looking on wonderingly. "I can lend you the price of a box, until you get some local cash."

"Thanks, buddy." Leonard said. Penny had allowed him to exact the forfeit from when she'd said, unwisely as it turned out, that if he could get an Internet signal from here, she'd let him… (5). And now he had to provide a "sorry, and, er, thank you…" for her.

"Davinia Bellamy's a friend of Johanna's. She'll give me discount on the flowers." Ponder added. "I'm not going to ask exactly what happened, but if HEX recommends really good chocolate…" he broke off. He'd just seen the laptop that HEX was using as mouthpiece. A piece of Californian high technology. In Ankh-Morpork.

"How the Hells did that get here?" he asked.

"I can explain that…" Leonard said.

"Please do." said Ponder.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) In as many words. This has been Sheldonised for delicacy's sake. Use your active imagination.

(2) Ruth is expressing a common reaction of Africans and native West Indians, brought up with what could be called a strong social and moral ethic in stable societies, to meeting other black people living in Western Europe and the USA whose lives and upbringings have been different and in more adverse circumstances. It can be a real culture shock to discover just enough people with whom you share a sort of kinship are – different. (But not all. I'm not being racist here. Ye gods, I explored the "Chimpout" site and felt sick afterwards.)

(3) Leonard might have been comforted to know that as a direct result of this encounter, Howard Phillips Lovecraft would blink out of existence on a whole sub-infinity of alternative Earths, to be replaced by Howard Phillips Nightingale, whose fantastic writings concerning the Reasonably Great Venerable One Cath Lulu, currently asleep in the submerged urban conurbation of Riley surrounded by his platoons of Sluggoths, would not have quite the same visceral impact on the minds of millions. So Leonard really did achieve something of value here.

(4) Another Blue Öyster Cult reference here, I'm afraid. Clue: Joan Crawford and daughter Christina.

(5) Johanna did point out, privately, that this was a classic exemplar of the failing the Assassins' Guild called over-confidence. Although she'd only use it as an example, without naming names, to her more mature senior girls.

Chapter 33: The Technomancy-Science Interface

Wheeler-Bell Thirty-Three

The Marketing Feasibility Projection

In which the story continues. Penny meets Discworld Lawyers and joins some Guilds. Leonard learns about Discworld economics. And the other guys build a bridge between worlds.

Going on a fortnight's holiday away from the PC. So this is the last one for a while. Enjoy! No Sheldon in this but believe me, he'll be back. I have things planned for his introduction to Vetinari – and Vetinari's eventual decision as to what to do with Sheldon Cooper in Ankh-Morpork… (do I need to mention this will also clear up the mystery of the multiple Johannas?)

Breakfast was a pleasant affair in the University's main refectory. Penny and Leonard soon grasped that it was a serve-yourself buffet arrangement, with relays of catering staff inobtrusively replenishing the serving tables with copious amounts of bacon, sausage, eggs cooked about six different ways, mushrooms, beans, fried onions, tomatoes, and to Leonard's pleasant surprise, familiar things like waffles, pancakes, and a wide choice of syrups. (1)

Ponder and Johanna took normal-seeming portions of cooked breakfast. Penny noted the plates seemed a bit on the large side. A normal portion on those huge plates seemed small, somehow. Then goggled as a very wide Wizard ambled past with an even larger plate which was stacked very high. She gave up counting the fried eggs on it when they went into double figures.

"You need feeding up, young Stibbons!" the large wizard said, amicably. "Beats me how you live on small amounts like that. I can still see the plate, look!"

Ponder introduced the wizard as the Lecturer In Recent Runes. He was somewhat distracted from his breakfast by Penny, who had elected to take the cereal option and some toast. She was dressed for Ankh-Morpork in clothes borrowed from Johanna, but her presence was still arousing looks and nudges and interest from the predominantly male breakfast clientele who seemed absorbed by the presence of two women in the refectory. She put up with this. Johanna seemed to be tolerantly amused. Penny wasn't too surprised to be escorted to the big table which was presided over by Mustrum Ridcully; the Arch-Chancellor greeted them affably, and asked what their plan for the day was.

"Two strikingly attractive young ladies." remarked an older wizard who somehow made Penny think of a bearded Howard Wolowitz. "At our table. Eating with us. Everybody's looking! Somehow we aren't the pinhead and stamp-collector table any more!"

"Rein it in, Wrangler." Ridcully advised him, sharply. He turned to Penny and Johanna. "Apologies, m'dears. He gets this way around women. You were sayin', Johanna?"

"We hev a business meeting with Mr Thunderbolt." Johanna said. "To discuss issues of copyright end finance. Contrect law. Es you are investing, you may wish to be informed?"

Ridcully nodded to Ponder.

"Tag along, would you, Stibbons?" he requested. "You can invest up to the agreed amount, and sign for the University. I'll take young Hofstadter in hand for the mornin'. See he gets some practical trainin' in the necessary skills."

Ridcully turned to regard Leonard.

"Good appetite, I see." he said. "Magic can take it out of you, lad. But then, I hear you met them last night. Saw 'em off. You'll have to tell me later. HEX fella only gave me a summary."

Leonard winced. Ponder had also told him it hadn't just been a dream. Penny had been sure he'd not been in the bed for part of the night. And then there'd been the black sand…. He made a note to use the Internet link when he got back to the new apartment. Discreetly check his mother was still alive. Just in case. But seeing her melt into a tentacle monstrosity… on one level he wasn't surprised. On another it had been deeply disconcerting. He described his not-quite-a-dream to Ridcully and the other wizards. This necessarily took some time, as the Faculty wizards kept breaking in to ask irrelevant questions and to have a rambling argument with each other that only incidentally dealt with the technicalities of dealing with Dungeon Dimension incursions into reality. At first disconcerted, Leonard grasped something familiar with great relief. In some vital respects it was exactly like a Physics Department faculty meeting. Clashing egos and long rambling off-topic discussions.

"Well, yes." said Recent Runes. "But if we're talking about Cohen the Barbarian as he's portrayed in the man-gi illustrated stories, there's no doubt at all that he could defeat that were-wolverine character. With one hand tied behind his back!"

The Senior Wrangler indignantly produced what Penny instantly recognised as a comic-book from the recesses of a pocket – hell, they got them on this world, too? – and opened it to a page, which he brandished to make a point.

"I'm afraid you're wrong there! James Howler, known also as Wogan, transforms into half-man, half… screaming wolf-thing… with ferocious long sharp claws made of unobtanium. Not even the greatest Hero on the disc could stand up to those!"

"But Cohen has got the Sword of Ultimate Destiny." objected Runes. "Which is silver-chased on its blade, and therefore inimical to were-creatures…"

Penny watched, as a horrible sense of familiarity descended on her. But these old guys are all at least sixty?

"But Cohen pawned the Sword of Ultimate Destiny for beer money when he was hard up. And besides, they inhabit two different worlds in the man-gi comics continuum. They would never meet in actuality." said a third Wizard.

Penny looked at Leonard. Yes, the look was there. It said that at the earliest possible opportunity he was going to discover a comic shop on this world and find out about its superheroes.

"Come on, Indefinite Studies. This sort of thing should be right up your street. Discussing who would win out of a battle between two characters with superhuman powers. What could be more indefinite than that?"

Ridcully turned to Penny with a look of tolerant exasperation on his face.

"Sorry, m'dear. Young Hofstadter. These fellows are buggers for new fads, and the latest one is Agatean illustrated comics. Could never see the point of 'em meself. Mind-rotting junk!"

Penny sighed. She was getting a glimpse into how the guys would be in their sixties and seventies. She wondered how she was going to break it to Bernadette and Amy.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes?" said Runes. "Big Dave at the Comic-Book Exchange was saying there's talk of a new series, featuring your colleague, Miss Alice Band?"

Johanna winced slightly. This was news to her. She wondered how Alice would take to this. Probably critically.

"Well, whoever is plenning this should et least esk her first." she said. Johanna frowned. Publishers called Dibbler and Topliss featured on the editorial page of the comics Ponder bought. They were under the DC imprint, which she suspected stood for Dibbler Comics. She decided that when she had a moment, she was going to back Throat Dibbler into a corner and invite him to explain himself, pointing out to him that he ought to be lucky it was her and not, say, an irritated Miss Alice Band, who was doing the asking.

"They're going to call it Lorenzo Cronk, Tomb Excavator." said the Wrangler, helpfully. "But Dave got to see the initial sketches for the character. Definitely Miss Band."

"Positively indecent skimpy shorts." Runes said, looking faraway. He even paused in his breakfast.

"Tight shirt. A very tight shirt." added the Wrangler.

Johanna thought of her colleague's preferred dress for Stealth Archaeology. And reflected that Lorenzo Cronk, now disappeared and presumed deceased, had been Alice's professional mentor in her Guild of Archaeology student days. Alice had learnt a lot, including her professional dress sense, from her mentor.(2)

"Pack it in, you fellows!" Ridcully ordered. "We were discussin' Doctor Hofstadter, if you recall? Thank you."

"Ah, yes. The new man." Runes said. It was evident part of his mind was still dwelling on representations of Miss Alice Band in tight brief shorts.

"How are they going to deal with the, er, romantic liaisons?" the Wrangler mused. "Risqué is one thing. But they'd have problems with, errr…"

"Young boys buy those books." mused Runes.

Johanna was about to say, in a pointed way, that the biggest problem would be Alice, possibly? Gentlemen, she would go Librarian….

"As I was about to say!" Ridcully growled."if you were payin' attention, you would have heard young Hofstadter here relatin' the story of how he faced down the Dungeon Dimensions last night? Good work, lad, by the way. It ain't easy, and you got thrown in at the deep end. Did damn' well, too!"

There was a sort of discussion of Leonard's dream. The senior Wizards managed some sort of professional focus and debated the issue with something approaching thoughtful consideration. Ponder relaxed. Sooner or later any Faculty discussion managed to get to the point, or at least to a vague circling of it with random stabs at the bullseye.

"Nasty." Runes said. "They try to get you by posing as your greatest fear, or your strongest temptation. You have to recognise it for what it is and not fall for it."

"Your own dear mother." Indefinite Studies added, shaking his head and tutting. "Cold. Calculating. Shows a really nasty streak."

"Yup." Leonard said. "She sure does!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Troll." Johanna said, laconically. "Try not to stare."

Penny tried not to boggle as the huge stony humanoid lumbered past, on business of its own. It glanced down disinterestedly at the two human women, and trundled on.

"We share our world with other people." Johanna explained, as they walked on down the Maul. "They may not be human, but they are people too. We get on. Most of the time."

Penny nodded, distractedly, as a group of Dwarves straight out of Tolkien, but looking somewhat more street, walked past. Chain-mail. Horned helmets. Axes. Hell, so many people here were into open-carry… again, she tried not to stare.

Johanna shared a friendly greeting with two of the local cops, Watchmen she knew and sometimes worked with. She introduced Penny. The two cops, called Haddock and Ping, seemed very happy to meet her and to prolong the introduction. Penny took in their armour, helmets and weapons, making them look like Renfair re-enactors, but ones who knew what those very real weapons were for. And no Renfair nerd would wear dented and battered armour like that with patches and what looked like rust-spotting around the rivets… and that metal patch welded to the breastplate was in just the right place to suggest its previous owner had learnt the hard way some bullets – arrows - can't be stopped… Penny looked at Ping's back out of curiosity, as the two cops proceeded on. There was another patch in the back, suggesting the bull… arrow had gone all the way through on the previous guy… hell, that was working armour. The real deal. Not Renfair stuff.

"Ermour gets recycled." Johanna explained, guessing her thoughts. "It is expensive to make, end the City is careful with its budget."

Their first call was to the local bank. Penny noted there were no such things as ATM's here. Johanna had to queue for a counter-clerk, but eventually withdrew five hundred of the local bucks. Penny added two noughts. Hell, she can go into a bank and draw fifty thousand dollars as if it's no big deal? Bein' an Assassin has gotta pay well!

Johanna thought for a moment, and requested an open draft for a far larger amount. The counter clerk excused herself and went to confer with a tall, thin, woman, who twanged.

"Miss Drapes is a senior clerk here." Johanna explained. "I require a benk dreft for later in the morning, to lodge with the lawyer who will set up our business concern. No doubt it will return here later es operating cepitel, once the formalities are concluded."

Penny nodded, distractedly, as she took in the old-fashioned bank, all vaulted ceiling, green leather, highly polished brass, red plush rope, and discreet armed guards watching from strategic locations around the working floor. Miss Drapes looked like the sort of woman still clinging onto shreds of what might have been a sort of austere attractiveness from her youth, but possibly due to long exposure to lots of money and the necessary degree of anal-retentive attention to detail needed to account for it all, was pinging like an over-tightened guitar string. Apparently it took people like that who worked with finance. Penny wondered how long it would be before the string snapped. She quietly mentioned this to Johanna.

Johanna smiled and made reference to something called "dried frog pills." Apparently she and Ponder had to do with formulating these, and most senior financial people, sooner or later, ended up taking them. The need to resort to dried frog, apparently, was an occupational hazard. Penny supposed it was a local name for Valium or Nembutal or something like that. Bernadette might know.

Eventually, after the necessary checks had been made, the bank draft was provided.

"I would normally ask if you needed an escort, Doctor Smith-Rhodes. The Bank routinely provides security as a courtesy detail, for those carrying very large amounts of money." said Miss Drapes.

Johanna patted the machete hilt at her hip. She was also wearing formal Assassin black. Miss Drapes smiled slightly, getting the metaphorical point. That anyone who tried to interfere with Johanna Smith-Rhodes would get the literal point. And the edge.

"But the Guild of Assassins is perfectly capable of managing its own security, of course." she added. "Might I inquire about the purpose of the business you're establishing? Mr von Lipwig would be pleased, once the legal formalities are concluded, to help you set up a business account with the usual range of amenities and offers we extend to valued customers. Could I pencil you in for an appointment?"

Johanna happily made the appointment. Moist could be entertainingly dishonest, in the accepted principled way you associated with banking and finance. She dealt with him often in relation to the Zoo's ongoing financial management. And Adora Belle Dearheart was something of a friend these days: she dropped by to check on the welfare of the golems the Zoo employed as keepers, and had been a part of the Zoo since its inception. She wondered about introducing her to Penny. Especially since she suspected the soon-to-be-born Cheesecake Factory (Ankh-Morpork) Limited might need a golem for hard labour and dirty jobs. Johanna felt they might get on.

Then they left the Royal Bank and turned back onto Upper Broadway, walking down towards the heart of the city.

"You will like Moist." she said to Penny. "Just count your fingers efter shaking hends with him. And check eny rings you are wearing are still there."

"And he runs the Bank, huh?" Penny said. "Ah-huh. Makes sense in a twisted way. Put a crook in charge of the Bank. Guy who knows all the grifts."

"Penny, you are beginning to get the idea." Johanna said. "Lord Vetinari, of course, eppointed him. His wife Adora Belle keeps him dishonest, but in a principled sort of way."

They walked on through what Penny was recognising as this city's big shopping area. Old-fashioned shops and stores that radiated affluence and prosperity. It still appealed to her primal urge to get out there and shop, and the day was becoming oddly exciting to her.

"We hev over two hours before our business eppointment." Johanna said. "I propose we get you edequately equipped for your stay in this city. Where would you like to begin? Shoes, or underwear, or clothes in general? Cosmetics, perfumes? I will pey."

Penny suddenly felt like a chimpanzee with access to a banana plantation. It was a giddying feeling.

"You don't have shopping malls here, sweetie?" Penny asked. She noticed a slight wince in Johanna.

"On the Emerican model? I understand it was ettempted here. Before my time. I believe it did not end well. Ponder could perhaps tell you more."(3)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leonard Hofstadter had been led, by Ridcully, to a large open room in the University. It looked like a gymnasium, but had only small high windows carefully designed to let as much light in as possible. The walls were apparently panelled in wood, with a metal framework in some sort of dull iron-like material. Looking up, he saw the ceiling was panelled in the same material and the floor underneath had a sort of springy wooden give to it. The daylight was augmented by an even illumination for which Leonard wasn't able to see the source. Sound had a flat, muffled, quality to it and in some intangible way, the arena appeared to contain more space than the apparent size of the room would suggest.

"The Gymnasium." Ridcully said, laconically. "This is a safe space for practicin' spellcastin'. Lined with octiron and the right sort of wood. Absorbs any spare energy, you follow? Octiron leads to a sort of lightning-conductor thingy and vents it all off on the roof. Propose to take you through a few basic skills in here."

Ridcully snapped his fingers and generated a fireball. It flew straight at the wall with some force then vanished.

"Use it as a shootin' range." he said. "The wood and the octiron neutralise the magic and get rid. Useful place."

Leonard smiled. You could really zap in a place like this…

"In your own time, lad." Ridcully said. "When I'm satisfied you can do it safely with yer bare hands, I'll give some thought to issuin' you a decent staff. Nothing fancy, mind. Just a basic model. At least to begin with."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Howard, Raj, Lucy, Ruth and Bernadette gathered in the basement storeroom at Caltech. They contemplated the vortex. A stack of equipment that Howard had collected in to pursue his brainwave was stacked on the floor next to them. Surprisingly, Lucy was the first to put her head and upper body through the vortex. She wobbled slightly and trembled. Bernadette grabbed her firmly by front and back of her belt, trying to ignore the apparent fact that Lucy's upper body had just vanished. Into the wall.

"Oh, wow!" she said, stepping back. "That's gotta be Ankh-Morpork. I recognised the smell."

"First thing anybody notices." Ruth said, drily. "Unless you were born there. I came over by ship. When I was eleven. You started smelling the place even before you saw it on the horizon. You know, the ship's crew all cheered up and started cheering because they could smell their home town? And we poor passengers wondered what the Ferk we were getting ourselves into."

"Long way down, though." Lucy said, doubtfully.

"You just sorta close your mind to that." Bernadette said, with the experience of having made the jump. She reminded herself that she'd seen Lucy and Penny leap longer gaps between buildings when Johanna had taken them out…. Edificeering? And she'd done it herself. She reminded herself that she was wearing loose tracksuit bottoms and good trainers this time, not a skirt.

"Mind if I look?" Ruth asked. She stepped forward and leant into the vortex. Everyone else tried not to look at the way her upper body vanished into the wall. It took some getting used to.

No more than four feet. And that window on the other side is open. Wizards passing by underneath so it must be Unseen University. Easy leap. She stepped back. Her task here was to shepherd these people and make sure they didn't do anything stupid. Well, not fatally stupid. Normal sensible well-thought out behaviour, she sensed, would be too much to hope for.

"A hundred feet up the side of a building is not going to be a good place to turn into a deer." Ruth said, practically.

Bernadette shook a little brown pill bottle. She had a little smile on her face.

"Beta-blockers. Strong ones. Took two." Lucy said. Inside, she wondered about how calm she was feeling. Her mind felt good and she was looking forward to this.

"OK." Ruth said, taking a deep breath. She had a feeling this was not going to be all that wise, but thought she could salvage something from what might potentially be a horrible mess. "I'll go first. Whoever follows, I will catch them if they get into trouble."

"Er, Ruth? Could you carry this over?" Howard Wolowitz asked, diffidently. Ruth frowned, then sighed and took the item, which had a long trailing cable.

"OK. But you do know that crossing over this way means time is passing at the same rate on both worlds? According to Ponder. With the Travelling Engine, it's practically instantaneous. Apparently. Going this way, every minute that passes on Ankh-Morpork also passes at the same rate in Pasadena. You've all got lives to lead here, and you can't be too long away from your work in this place. Or somebody's going to notice."

"She's right." said Raj. "I vote we stay for just long enough to get Leonard and Penny's apartment there properly set up. Then we all get back."

"So long as we're all clear." Ruth said. Then she tucked the item through her belt, checked there was adequate cable attached to it that wouldn't snag or pull her short, and leapt.

Then she was back in Ankh-Morpork, diving through the window, rolling, and landing lightly on her feet.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny loved the attention paid to her in the old-fashioned clothing stores Johanna took her to. The clerks were attentive, deferential, friendly, and knew their stuff about this world's clothes and shoes. Penny felt she'd passed back a century or so into a more gracious, leisured, world. And with an open check. Shopping heaven. On a different world. Johanna was quite happily paying the bills and collecting receipts.

"For our meetings this morning, you must look like a woman of means end good taste." Johanna said. "Clothing suitable for business is necessary. This tailored suit I think you could wear out. The rest should be delivered to the University. I will make the arrangements."

Johanna gave the clerk instructions. All items to be delivered to the Bledlows' lodge at Unseen University, marked for attention of Doctor Smith-Rhodes and Professor Stibbons, ideally to be portered to the rooms currently occupied by Doctor Hofstadter. She felt a cash tip in an envelope for the Bledlows' Comforts Fund, backed by the name of a currently friendly Assassin, should ensure prompt attention to instructions.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Howard stepped back from the vortex, looking pale. Bernadette scowled.

"Howard Wolowitz, will you stop being such a pussy!" she demanded. Then she composed herself and took a few steps back. Then ran and leapt. A second or so later, she was through the window on the other side, with minimal assistance from Ruth. She leant back through the window. The others saw her apparently half-materialise inside the Caltech basement room.

"Well? You wanted to do this. Whaddya waitin for?" she demanded, glaring at Howard.

A few seconds later Lucy joined her. Then Raj and Howard started passing things through from the Caltech side. Ruth helped to collect and stack them, a little voice in her head saying this is not wise. Not wise at all.

Finally Raj, then Howard, made the leap. Ruth was impressed at the way both managed it with their eyes firmly closed. Normally edificeering whilst blindfolded or hooded was an advanced Assassin skill. Then they started setting things up. Ruth watched, recognising skilled people completely at home in their own area of expertise. Competence was a side to the Caltech guys that she hadn't seen before.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a lawyers' office. Some things were the same on both worlds. Penny wondered if lawyers everywhere in the Universe had offices that completely, unambiguously, announced to the world who they were and what they did for a living. Even this one that looked like something outta Dickens, or at least the movies of his books. She'd never read any of the books but she watched a lot of TV and movies. Mebbe it's the houseplants. Big things with those broad green shiny leaves. And the shiny brass plate on the wall outside next the door.

Ponder Stibbons had been in the waiting room. He took in Penny in formal Discworld clothing, and a "Wow…" look seemed to form on his face.

"Miss Penélopé de Pasadène?" he said.

Penny grinned. She liked her Discworld name. It was classy.

"That's me!" she said.

"Good shopping?" Ponder asked. Penny grinned.

"Didn't tag along, huh?"

"I thought it didn't need me. Err." Ponder said. "You don't need me along spoiling the fun!"

"You know, that's just what Leonard says?" Penny said to Johanna. "What he means, sweetie, is he finds it boring, and he's lookin' for a reason to bug out!"

"Ja. I have noticed." Johanna agreed. Ponder looked away, trying not to meet her eyes.

And the human receptionist ushered Joan Sanderson-Reeves into the waiting room. Joan was in her usual impeccable upmarket street clothes, albeit in stylish Assassin black. She wore no visible weapons. Penny had the feeling Joan didn't need to wear any swords or junk like that. She radiated intent. It was like a force-field that said "come too close when uninvited and the rest of your life will be short and eventful."

But she was in a good mood.

"Hullo, m'dears." she said, affably. "Managed to get Jennifer to cover my lessons for a couple of hours. And the elocution class is going to be cursing my very name. Got George Moody to cover. Horrible little man, but at least he gets some teaching across."

She looked at Johanna and frowned.

"You got over here quickly." She said, looking slightly puzzled. "I saw you not so long ago marshalling a class to take to the Zoo."

Johanna reflected that on a normal day at this time she'd have been head-counting thirty third year pupils on a scholastic visit to the Zoo for Applied Nature Studies.(4) She thought again, and realised that in one very real sense she probably was. Undoubtedly so.

"Well, I know you've got the knack for assigning tasks and letting Zoo staff supervise while you go off and do other things." Joan said. "Damn good teaching skill."

But she still gave Johanna a long searching look. It was uncomfortable, even for another teacher. Johanna felt like the child caught out in a misdemeanour who was being grilled by an old-time staffroom monster.

"Nothing like a golem for pulling some damn-fool child out of a lion's jaws." Joan said, thoughtfully. "Or stopping it from getting in the lion's mouth in the first place." She turned to Penny.

"But I don't have that problem with cakes." she said. "The odd oven-burn. Nothing too serious. Did I mention, m'dear, the young gels have been badgering me as to when Miss de Pasadène's next going to be taking a class? They seem quite taken with you. If I was prone to getting jealous, which I'm not, I could have my nose put in a sling by that!"

Joan patted Penny's arm. From a woman not normally given to physical gestures, Johanna realised this was great praise and a sign of acceptance. Then again, Joan teaches a lot and she's good at it but she expects high standards. Just about any other teacher in Domestic Science would be a relief to the pupils.

"Mr Thunderbolt will see you all now." the receptionist announced. "Come this way, please."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Feeling slightly dazed after his one-to-one tutorial with Ridcully, and giddy with the potential of the magic he didn't know he had, Leonard was relieved to get the message from the Bledlows concerning a delivery received at the porters' lodge. He had gathered that Mustrum Ridcully never usually concerned himself with mere students or teaching. That, at least, was familiar from Caltech. People like President Siebert and Doctor Gablehauser were happy to leave mere teaching to subordinates. But Ridcully had taken a personal interest in him and was genuinely fascinated with the phenomenon of a Roundworlder who, at least on this world, had magical potential. Ad he'd expressed approval at Leonard's grasp of both theory and practice, saying that just for the look of the thing, after a few weeks we'll get you to sit the basic degree Finals, lad. Just to legitimise things. Another few letter after your name, hey?

Leonard shrugged. It was just, he'd discovered, a matter of translating skills he already had, in science and physics, to their context on this world. Learning the jargon. Applying it. But the practical….

And now he was pushing a handcart full of Penny's purchases up to his… their… shared apartment. There were no elevators here, but he had long experience of the stairs at 2311 North los Robles. And he had discovered a practical use for the levitation spell Ridcully had taught him.(5) Several shopping bags and boxes were floating in the air in front of him, under his easy conscious control. Mr Nobbs (no relation) the Bledlow had smiled approvingly, and said it didn't look as if you needed a hand, sir, but feel free to call.

And luminous arrows were appearing on the walls to guide his way. Ponder had said the building fabric would recognise his Wizard status and guide him. The arrows he saw would be personally tailored to him.

He found his apartment with no problems. He noticed at some point the sign saying "Professor Rothman" had gone and it had been replaced with one saying "Doctor L.L. Hofstadter (Visiting Fellow)." The "Visiting Fellow" part was even in italics.

"The door does that, doc." said a metallic tinny voice. Leonard jumped. He'd forgotten the lock – and even the door itself – was sentient. "See you're loaded up. Clothes for the lady, huh? Women are buggers for that sort of thing. I'll just open up for you…"

The door swung open. Leonard steered Penny's purchases inside and followed. He stopped dead.

"Surprise!" Raj and Howard chorused, together. Bernadette gave him her pinball smile.

Leonard blinked and looked on disbelievingly. There was a full PC with monitor, keyboard and mouse. There was a TV set. A Blu-Ray machine and selection of discs.

"We put a microwave and a kettle and a toaster in the kitchen." Raj said, proudly. "As soon as we can figure out how to get something that big over the gap, we'll get a fridge in there too!"

Leonard followed the logic back. Cables stretched through the portal window. They were attached to the socket-strips into which the electrical appliances were plugged. What looked like a wireless relay box sat near to the portal.

"We got the other ends plugged into Caltech's electricity. Through the Einstein-Bosen bridge. You can also get wireless Internet relayed through the bridge." Howard said, smugly. "Pretty neat, huh?"

"And we thought if Penny's gonna be here for any length of time, she's gonna need some home comforts." Bernadette said. "Somewhere to plug a hairdryer. And you can get American TV through the bridge, too! If I know Penny she'll go cold turkey, if she can't get to see Jersey Shore and stuff."

Ruth N'Kweze shook her head. It was hard to stay angry with these people. But an uneasy thought was forming in her mind. Leonard phrased it for her.

"Have we, you know, cleared all this with Ponder and Johanna?" he asked. "Don't think I'm not grateful, guys. But Ponder wasn't too happy about the laptop when he saw it."

"We'll deal with that when it happens." Raj said, dismissively. He looked across the room. "Ruth, is there any chance of our getting to see something of this city, and not just this apartment?"

Ruth winced.

"I'll have to clear that with Johanna first. She is my…" she paused. "line manager, after all…"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) This is not an exhaustive list. Oh no. I try to allocate 5,000 – 6,000 words per chapter as this feels about right. I don't want to use it all up on repeating the Unseen University breakfast menu. Which is a relatively short volume consisting of only about fifty pages.

(2) Lorenzo Cronk is a Stealth Archaeologist Terry invented for the computer game Discworld Noir. She may well have mutated into the character later named as Miss Alice Band, if only to avoid litigation from the Tomb Raider people for copyright breach. A Stealth Archaeologist with the initials LC….

(3) refer to Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett.

(4) depending on whether the student was in her bad books or not, this could involve a wheelbarrow, a shovel, and instructions as to where to wheel the dung. Or a restful hour with a notebook and pencil spent Observing and writing a report with emphasis on behaviour, displays, anything uncharacteristic of the species, and interactions with other animals. If the animal was domething like Pepsis grossa, this added an extra dimension of hazard.


(5) "You've got fire down pat, lad. Let's move on to floatin', flyin', and basic levitation. Next stage. In your own time, young Hofstadter!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes Dump:

Tarantula Hawk Wasp:(Pepsis Grossa) a very big creature capable of taking on and paralysing a full-grown tarantula spider. The sting is not lethal but excruciatingly painful. Agonising, in fact. Matron Igorina no doubt has antidotes on standby for inattentive or over-confident pupils tasked with wasp-wrangling.

Gauromydas heros, the world's largest fly (5" – 7" long) Mydidae, found in South America and Australia

Also the giant African millipede, up to 12" long (harmless)

Crossword-generated character names:

T. Igloo-Blissful

C. Tisbetter

Tainted-Pronoun

Wheedles-Sudden

Boticelli-Lochaber

Roger Hoagie

The Huguenot Experiment

Lapaz Stole

Undine Ferrari

Greta Ditto

Chapter 34: Chaos Theory 101

Wheeler-Bell Thirty

Wheeler-Bell 34: The Random Factor: Chaos Theory 101

Well, we're back! After that long Rough Guide to Howondaland in the company of two people who added the "Rough…" for anyone trying to impede their holiday, the urge is upon me to revisit a scene some years earlier before marriage and Bekki, and where Mariella might be in the background somewhere as a first-year student aged perhaps eleven and finding her feet, as well as an attitudinal Cenotian best friend, in Ankh-Morpork. But this is not their tale. Time to tidy and expand. There will be a long end-note about the possibilities and problems that the illogic of this tale is leading to. We have two alternative ways of passing between Caltech and Ankh-Morpork, one of which is outside the direct control of Ponder and Johanna and which is creating a great big random factor. It will shortly create two temporally-separated versions of Johanna Smith-Rhodes, for instance. And Vetinari is of course aware.

Where will this lead? Read on.

We begin in a lawyer's office in Ankh-Morpork. Penny is getting to grips with the city and with her projected place and role within it. She is meeting a very untypical Troll and trying not to say anything like "Christ on a Cracker!"

Mr Thunderbolt, the lawyer, was big. He also wasn't human. He wore what looked like an outsize sober dark business suit together with a cloak and hooded cowl. And gloves.

Penny wondered what sort of guy wore this indoors. It looked like the Incredible Hulk crossed with Count Dracula. She considered this notion. The Hulk as vampire. Hey, that's an idea for a comic book…. Then she frowned. Being around Leonard and the guys had sorta infected her mind. She had learnt nerd-speak. Gone native on Planet Geek.

The others didn't seem phased by this. Johanna was taking it as normal. This reassured her. If anything in this crazy city were to make Johanna Smith-Rhodes look nervous, it would be time to run.(1) Joan, the older Lady Assassin, and Hell, you would not want to annoy her, seemed completely at ease. And Ponder Stibbons, a nice guy, who put her in mind of a local Leonard Hofstadter. She felt warm to Ponder for this reason.

Mr Thunderbolt nodded to the clerk, a perfectly human-looking guy, who was here taking notes. He introduced himself, and there was a round of handshakes. Penny took the large hand cautiously. It felt like a rubber glove full of rocks. But it was warm.

"You are new to this city, Miss de Pasadène?" he said, pleasantly. It was an intelligent, well-educated voice with a pleasantly non-human tinge to it. Penny blinked. The general impression she'd got was that trolls were not renowned for intellect or indeed well-modulated voices using multisyllabic words easily. She was used to this: she'd dated linebackers.

Mr Thunderbolt removed the cowl of his hood, slipping it back over his shoulders. Penny blinked again. The stony head was organically smooth and had hints of opacity and translucency to it. She tried not to look too hard, lest she started glimpsing squicky things like brains and sinuses. Amy would be fascinated, she thought. Different brain. Different species. Hell, they'd promote her to Professor. She'd outrank Sheldon.

The thought, of Amy Farrah-Fowler being one step higher than Sheldon Cooper and therefore meaning by his own rules he'd have to defer to her, amused Penny and she giggled, nervously.

The troll raised something like an eyebrow. Penny felt she had to gabble an explanation.

"There's a friend of mine. She, err, studies brains and nerves and things…" and she realised she was digging a deep hole.

Mr Thunderbolt smiled, taking no offence.

"I understand that. I am fairly unique among trolls. And not many human scientists have studied our nervous systems in any sort of detail. I'd be pleased to speak to your friend, if this is an academic area she finds of interest. There are very few female academics…" he nodded to Johanna, "and such as there are tend to have remarkably original minds. Remarkable people. Intellectually stimulating."

Penny decided to very strongly tell Amy that dissection was probably not an option.

"But shall we move to business?" the troll suggested. "Please describe cheesecake to me."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, the apartment at Unseen University was becoming more Californian by the moment. Ruth N'Kweze uncertainly wondered how she was going to explain this.

She went to one of the other windows, opened it, and looked across.

Yes. As she'd been trying to visualise, several unsupported wires were projecting horizontally into thin air from the Special Window and abruptly disappearing about four feet out. It was strange, but not especially so for Unseen. She knew the wires continued into a basement storeroom in Caltech, and were plugged into electrical power sources there. This powered all the Roundworld devices exported to the university. It was all explicable by Science, apparently. This didn't make it any less strange.

And there was the wide plank bridge, Howard's idea. It allowed people to scramble between worlds, without needing to jump. That also projected out into the gap, ending abruptly in mid-air like an essential décor feature on a pirate ship. They even called it "walking the plank."

It all looked as discreet and natural as a full head of hair on a man who'd been bald yesterday.

She steeled herself for discovery and the inevitable Words. In the background, Bernadette was supervising setting up the sort of little electrical items that were indispensable for a girl from Earth on a planet that didn't have none. Ruth appreciated this. Her hair was short and manageable but she'd seen the worth of things like hairdryers. Apparently there were specialised items designed for African hair, which was different. She wanted to get to know some of these. She'd seen how Black American women styled themselves and it had been…. Wow. A new world.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It occurs to me a variant tailored for the troll market would sell well." Mr Thunderbolt remarked. "Perhaps a base of finely ground gravel bound with an edible silt. Topped with a semi-liquid deep filling based on ground pumice or tofa. Something to consider. Perhaps?"

Penny blinked. Of course a guy made of stone would eat rock. Simple. Why hadn't she thought of this? She wondered who to ask about troll diet. It was worth considering. Troll cheesecake. Hot damn.

The troll lawyer smiled. There was a flash of light reflected through diamond. Lots of refraction.

"And your trial market, given samples, were unanimously in praise of a new foodstuff." he remarked. "Wizards. Students and staff at the Assassins' Guild School. A small select group at the Palace. This is an interesting proposition."

The troll moved on, smoothly.

"It is now necessary to discuss the standard legal formalities. I note there are three principal investors, each of whom is lodging five thousand dollars to start the enterprise. The purpose of this meeting is to ensure that all parties are aware of their rights and responsibilities under Ankh-Morporkian company and contract law, and to draw up the standard contracts which will bind and direct all parties involved…"

There was a lot more like this. Penny made herself focus and concentrate. This was important. She was suddenly being put in charge of the equivalent of a million and a half bucks. Put forward by people who'd be less than impressed if they lost it. Assassins. Hell….

Penny had wondered what it would be like to be a millionaire. Now she was seeing the reality. She bit back an apprehensive gulp. It wasn't exactly as she'd daydreamed it…
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ruth wasn't too surprised by the knock on the door. It was loud and emphatic.

++I am sorry.++ I had to report to a higher authority and to seek clarification.++ HEX said, speaking from one of the computers. ++In this place, I am subject to and bound by higher authority, and must keep my superiors informed.++

The knock turned out to be Mustrum Ridcully. With Faculty members. He did not seem too impressed. He turned to Ruth.

"I'm assumin' Doctor Smith-Rhodes left you in charge here." he said. "Never met you before, but I hear you're sensible. You can introduce me to these people, and tell me what the blue buggering blazes is going on and don't touch that, Wrangler!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We now move to the equitable division of shares." Mr Thunderbolt said. "There are three principle shareholders in the enterprise, two individuals and one representing a legal corporate entity, each of whom has advanced an equal share of the operating capital. I would propose several alternatives. The first is that there is a total of ninety-nine ordinary shares each representing an equal proportion of that investment capital. A simple calculation establishes the worth of each share at one hundred and fifty-one dollars and fifty-two pence. This can, of course, go up or down in worth, depending on the fortunes of the Company, and any excess worth can either be reinvested or cashed in as a dividend. This also allows room for future share issues. Each of the three parties involved will hold thirty-three shares representing their initial investment of five thousand dollars each."

Penny tried to focus on numbers. She grasped one thing that baffled her.

"Err.. three board members. Thirty-three shares each. Equal votes, right? So what happens if nobody agrees?"

Mr Thunderbolt smiled. He reached into a desk drawer and brought out a cash-box. He opened it and counted out a hundred and fifty-one dollars and fifty-two pence.

"I am authorised by Lord Vetinari to do what is a legal formality in these cases." He said. "On behalf of the City I am buying a nominal one hundredth share in your business. This belongs to and is vested in the corporate legal entity known as The City of Ankh-Morpork, and allows the City a presence at Board meetings. In the event of disagreement or deadlock between the three principal parties, it allows the City to exert a casting vote. It also legally entitles the City, as a shareholder, to receive full and professionally audited statements and accounts concerning the financial situation of the business. Experience has taught His Lordship that this is invaluable for tax purposes, and forestalls any lengthy investigations by the City's tax-gathering authorities."

Penny winced.

"The City will be represented at board meetings by an appointed person, identity as yet un-known. As I say, just a legal formality.

"If this is an agreeable proposition, should we move on to signing the Articles of Association? Thank you. And now, may I give general advice concerning other aspects of setting up a business? Doctor Smith-Rhodes is, for instance, holding on to a lot of receipts for professional expenses, to wit business clothing for the managing director. These can be offset against tax as a legitimate expense, and to get the ball rolling on that you will require a good accountant to handle your records. I can recommend a good man for that.

"As regards business premises, I have set up an appointment with the property agency representing the interests of the Duke of Ankh. I understand you have a place in mind in the Short Street area? An appointment to view is set up at three.

"Miss de Pasadène, to trade in this City, you will need to be at least an associate member of several Guilds. I have the application forms here. The application fees can also be set against tax as valid business expenses."

"We cen fill those in later." Johanna said. Some details needed thought, such as Penny's previous addresses and work history. It would be like creatively faking a job application.

"We should think about you being an Associate Member of our Guild, too, m'dear." Joan said, thoughtfully.

As the lawyer gathered in the paperwork to a file labelled The Cheesecake Factory (Ankh-Morpork) Ltd., Penny's head jerked up in alarm.

"Me? An Assassin? I ain't actually gotta kill anyone, have I?"

Johanna smiled softly.

"Not unless you really want to." she said. "Or else, you get really annoyed with somebody."

"Associate member, m'dear." Joan said, reassuringly. "People want it for all sorts of reasons. We run an evening class. You don't get the full licence, of course. Any School pupil leaving without Taking Black gets associate membership. Some of our teaching staff are only associate members. Which is why you should do it. I was impressed by the way you took a class. I could find odd work for you, as a sort of supply teacher. If you're not too busy, that is."

"It elso means you cen cell on the Guild for security end insurance." Johanna said, thoughtfully. "We do security consultancy. Lots of Thieves in this city. Both sorts."

Joan smiled at Penny. It was like being a rabbit smiled at by a passing hawk.

"And of course, getting Associate Membership counts as a course credit, if you want to go on and do the full-blown Mature Students' Course." she remarked. "Johanna and I did that. It's tough, but doable. That way you can go on and get what we call the Pink Slip. The full membership. Licence to inhume."

Joan looked speculatively at Penny.

"Young gel. Fit. Clever. Presentable. Got some go about you. Johanna says she's seen you fight. You could do it, you know!"

"I shall lodge the bank drafts and sundry cash with the Royal Bank and oversee setting up your business accounts." Mr Thunderbolt said, genially. "Welcome to our City, Miss de Pasadène, and I hope your residence here is a long and fruitful one. I wish your enterprise the greatest of success. And do feel free to bring round any samples of cheesecake aimed at trolls for me to try!"

They recognised the meeting was ending.

"Let's have lunch." Joan said. "Then later on I could trot up to the university. I'd like to meet your young fellow sometime, Penny!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Caltech, Pasadena.

Sheldon Cooper was blessed with an eidetic memory. Everything he'd ever seen, done or experienced was there for recall. At the moment he was sitting in his office in the Physics department, frowning slightly. His eyes were half closed and he was, at least metaphorically speaking, taking a stroll through his memory archives seeking to find the correct shelf, take down a meticulously labelled box, and retrieve.

An external observer, were there one there to do the observing, would have likened his stillness to that of a praying mantis waiting, still and intent, for a passing lunch. Every so often Sheldon's face twitched.

Finally he said "Of course!", and sprang up.

He'd remembered where Professor Rothman's files were kept. He took this memory out of the file box and looked deeper into its contents.

Just run-of-the-mill notes concerning the Einstein-Bosen Bridge. Seeking theoretical proof for its existence. Lots of speculation about the purposes it could be put to. Interesting in its way, but nothing new and original. Leonard speculated that there was material here for a sci-fi story, But he realised it had all been done before. Nothing original. The only thing in there we couldn't work out were the other notebooks...

Sheldon sped down the stairs to the basement. Academia gave way to dingy bare sheetrock and service pipes running below the ceiling.

Those books looked strange. Written in some strange code. Didn't correspond to any foreign language we knew. Leonard thought he'd spent the time generating his own conlang. And without a key it was lost to us. Like Leonardo da Vinci writing backwards with his left hand. Or the Voynich Manuscripts. When the creator dies it can't be decoded. And even then it can be a cipher. A different level of meaning. Not an auxlang. That means shared among a group. Professor Tolkien developed a lot of auxlangs. But he was considerate enough to put them in his novels with translation notes. Professor Rothman wasn't nearly so helpful. An academic protecting his secrets. Hah. As if anyone was actually interested. He was merely rehashing what was already known to Physics. So we put the whole lot in a crate and labelled it…

Sheldon Cooper found his way to the special basement room. He unlocked the door and entered, swiftly pulling it closed behind him. The portal glowed in the wall. Seemingly truncated cables led from it and were plugged into power sockets in the storeroom. He abstractly noted somebody, probably Howard, had fixed a direct tap into a power cable running just below the ceiling, leading to a step transformer and a smaller more domestic power cable trailing into the vortex.

Sheldon frowned. The end of a wide plank or shelf, about a foot wide, also projected, resting on the base of the vortex.

But that didn't interest Sheldon. Not yet, anyway. Excitedly, he checked the file boxes on the shelving unit. Finally he found the one that Leonard had simply and rather sloppily labelled "ROTHMAN ARCHIVE". It had signs of having recently been disturbed. Somebody had left a handprint and the dust on the shelf had been scraped off. He wondered who by. Sheldon shrugged and grabbed it down.

Had Johanna Smith-Rhodes but known it, the crate of documents she had disinterestedly glanced at on the storage shelf and pushed back into place were the testament to Professor Rothman's professional academic life.

But at the time, this hadn't been important. And she'd have been perplexed by the abstract physics notations and terminology. It wasn't her field of expertise. It was, however, Sheldon Cooper's. He settled down to read.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amy Farrah-Fowler looked in on the dog Cinnamon. The grad student assigned to monitor animals recuperating from various surgical procedures looked up from her reading. She had been told Cinnamon was not an experimental animal, and needed to be treated with a far higher degree of care and attention.

"She's doing just fine, Amy." the grad assistant said, crossing her fingers and hoping Doctor Farrah-Fowler wouldn't notice she'd been reading an in-depth peer-reviewed study of relative attractiveness among a sample male population, in the esteemed scientific journal Cosmopolitan.

"Ah-huh." Amy said, and checked the operation site and the stitching. Cinnamon really was doing just fine. She reckoned the dog could be returned to Raj very soon to recuperate further at home. This would now free her up to explore this Discworld place. The idea excited her.

Without looking round, she remarked

"Good issue this month, huh? Thirty Pages Of Shirtless Guys. Kinda puts a smile on your face."

The grad looked a little shifty. Amy smiled slightly.

"Hey. My bestie friend buys it. I get to read Penny's."

The student relaxed. Doctor Farrah-Fowler could be alright when she was in a good mood. Kinda weird still, but alright. Knowing normal people was mellowing her out. Despite her choice of guy.

Unseen University, Ankh-Morpork.

Mustrum Ridcully grunted. Ponder Stibbons stood slightly to one side in foot-shuffling anxiety. So did Leonard Hofstadter. And Ruth N'Kweze. Assassins were taught to read situations. Ruth realised, with a sinking feeling, that this could go one of two ways.

"I see. Wrangler, will you pay attention!" Ridcully snapped.

He glared at Howard.

"So you're an engineer, Mister Wolowitz?"

"Yes, sir." Howard said, politely. He winced at the mister. Academic status still applied here. With a vengeance. He had grasped that the small party of Wizards in multicolour robes and pointy hats were important people here. And were not to be annoyed.

In the background, the Senior Wrangler was excitedly discussing Roundworld computers with Raj.

"You get pictures, Mustrum! Full colour and wonderfully clear! Tons better than that HEX device can manage!"

++Well, actually, Senior Wrangler…++ HEX managed to convey affrontedness. Somehow.

"And you set up all this Roundworld technomancy. So that Doctor Hofstadter here and his admittedly delightful young lady could feel more at home as our guests. Hmmph. All very irregular. And goin' on in me university, without my approval or my knowledge. I tend not to like surprises. Surprises, in this damn place, can have consequences."

Elsewhere the Bursar was scrutinising the blackboard left by Sheldon Cooper and engrossed in the equations that had been chalked up. The other wizards left him to it. He was happy in his own world and needed no special supervision.

"Mr Wibble sees a fnord in the Land of Thud." he said, half to himself. He dampened his finger, rubbed out a symbol and changed a polarity. Then he stood back, in deep thought. Bernadette watched him, half-anxiously and half-professionally.

"Yes, whatever you say, Bursar." Ridcully said.

"Err, Doctor Koothrappali. Can this clever Internet device be used to bring up pictures of an artistic sort? You know? Young ladies? With urns and gauze?" the Wrangler asked, hopefully.

Raj smiled.

"Oh, indeed! You could say that is a major function of the Internet!"

Lucy shook her head. She wondered about just how calm she was being right now. She sensed the huge man, like three or four Gandalfs stacked together in the same space, given a more colourful robe and a bigger staff, was not somebody to annoy. She stood back, disregarded for now, and listened to several conversations going on simultaneously at cross-purposes to each other. She had worked out this was common in academic debates.

"Can you vouch for these people, Stibbons? Young Hofstadter?"

"Yes, sir." Leonard said, quickly. "As you can see, the passage back to our homeworld is open, and they can all return there very quickly, if needed…" He glared at his friends.

Ridcully stalked over and looked through the Window. He contemplated the other side for a few moments and came back.

"Well, it's not a bloody damn wardrobe, at least." he grunted. "Never did trust enchanted furniture. Case one time of a chap who thought he'd bought a straightforward bloody wardrobe for the spare bedroom, and discovered after his four kids disappeared that it was made of sapient pearwood. Like that box-thing of Rincewind's. People definitely disappear after going into that. No, just a rather dull dingy cellar. Nothing of interest."

"Perhaps, sir, we should consider giving them all visiting guest academic status?" Ponder suggested. He had rushed back after receiving an urgent message from HEX conveyed by express clacks messenger. Johanna had said she was still going to have lunch first.

Ridcully considered this. He looked down and did a double-take.

"Good grief, Wrangler. That sort of stuff rots yer mind! Puts hairs on the palms of yer hands, and by that I don't mean you turn werewolf!"

He looked at Lucy. Ridcully was not slow or stupid. He made an association. There was something in her, reminding him of a small wary deer…. He addressed her in a gentler, friendlier voice.

"Sorry, m'dear. We're not alarmin' you in any way at all, are we?"

Lucy shook her head. She wished Johanna were here. She'd know how to sort it out.

"That dromedary knew. Maybe if p goes over dy by dx and factors into the reciprocal of minus seven. Hand, millennium and shrimp. Rothman knew. In his old rooms. Fnord." Said the Bursar. He made another chalked line on the board. People looked at him with a combination of tolerance and perplexity. Bernadette was searching in her bag.

"0.999 recurring is equal to one. Beware the Rising Podge. All hail Errata!"

"Get him a dried frog pill, somebody?" Ridcully said, wearily.

Bernadette flashed her brightest pinball smile. She'd worked something out.

"Would you care to take one of these, sir?" she asked, opening a pill bottle. The Bursar looked at her gravely, then held a hand out.

And then Sheldon Cooper arrived. He stumbled through the portal, scrambling over the plank bridge, and fell into the room.

"Leonard! Leonard! Leonard!" he exclaimed. All conversation stopped. "I've remembered where Professor Rothman's academic notes are!"

All the wizards in the room stopped and looked at him. A large hardback notebook fell from his hand. Ponder Stibbons saw it was of Discworld manufacture. And then he realised.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Better get back to work." Joan said, as they settled the lunch bill. "Nice to meet you, m'dear. You must have arranged cover for your afternoon classes, Johanna?"

Again Johanna got the searching look, She wasn't up to explaining there were two of her just now. Temporarily so, she hoped.

"Based et the Zoo all day." she said. This wasn't a lie. In a very real sense she was at the Zoo. "You're right, I'd better get over there. Coming, Penny?"

Joan went back to the Guild School. Johanna watched her go, then hailed a cab. She instructed the cabbie.

"University." she said. She had a feeling she and Penny would be needed there. Ponder had gone straight back to the University from the lawyer's office. He had received a Message from HEX. It had said ++Your presence is required++. The cab clattered on.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Errr… sir? Mr Arch-Chancellor, sir?" said the nervous Bledlow, trying to get his attention.

"Yes, what is it, man?" Ridcully said, impatiently. Then he realised everybody was looking past his shoulder and behind him. Conversation had stopped.

Ridcully turned round with great and exaggerated care. He composed his features into something approaching a welcoming smile.

"How may I be of assistance, my Lord?" he said, politely.

Lord Vetinari smiled slightly.

"You may begin by introducing me to these interesting guests the University appears to have acquired." the Patrician said. "Although I suspect I may be able to deduce their names."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How long ego?" Johanna almost shouted at the Bledlow. He winced.

"About twenty-five minutes, miss. An hour or so after Mr Ridcully got the word something odd was going on. Err. Odder than usual, that is. Err. He stood here, calm as you likes, and he said out loud "I request this building to give me accurate directions to the rooms currently being occupied by Doctor Hofstadter and Miss de Pasadène. No great rush." And blow me, the arrows lights up, and he starts following them. As if he were a wizard."

"Thenk you." Johanna said, and shouted for Penny to follow her. They began running up stairs. A few minutes later, it occurred to Johanna that neither of them was a Wizard. Illuminated arrows were not glowing helpfully on the walls to tell them where to go. They were lost in Unseen University. Which was evidently in one of its more capricious moods.

"Kak!" Johanna swore.

Penny sighed.

"Let me try, sweetie." she said. She addressed thin air.

"Err.. Building? Hi. I know you can hear me. I really, really, need to get to where Leonard is. You know, Doctor Hofstadter. Would you be a real sweetie and show me the way, please? Thanks, hon!"

Illuminated arrows started showing on the walls. Johanna shook her head.

"It was worth a try." Penny said. She leant forward and gave the nearest wall a quick kiss. The nearest arrow glowed brighter with a tinge of red.

Johanna realised she'd just seen something that might be confused with headology. It was impressive. (2) She resolved to ask somebody about this later.

But for now, they followed the arrows.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sheldon Cooper had utterly failed to recognise the significance of the new visitor. Dismissing the man in black with the goatee beard as not immediately important, he was enthusing about a new friend.

"My dear sir! This is remarkable! You truly have one of the most impressive minds I have ever encountered!"

He wasn't talking to Vetinari. He was addressing the Bursar, who was rapidly becoming Doctor Dinwoodie again, at least temporarily.

"Oh well, nothing, really." the Bursar mumbled. "I dabble in theoretical mathematics and its application to the world of physical reality. Tell me again about this Copenhagen Interpretation. I see it applying here to this problem, if we take x and let it represent the passage of time through space via an as yet unspecified dimensional accretion which can be represented by factorial y squared. Wirble."

Ponder shook his head. He accepted that he shouldn't be surprised. Of course like minds sought each other out. He focused on the immediate problem.

Vetinari was introducing himself with a sort of informal geniality.

"You, I think, would be…" he paused for an instant. "Doctor Rostenkowski-Wolowitz. The gifted young lady with the interest in pharmaceutical preparations, I understand."

Bernadette smiled back. She had instinctively recognised this was not somebody to offend.

"Just out of interest, what did you administer to Doctor Dinwoodie?" Vetinari inquired. He indicated the Bursar. "Whatever it is, it appears to have been most beneficial."

"Thorazine, sir." Bernadette said. "Also known as chlorpromazine. It's indicated for restoration of neurochemical balance in psychotic or hypermanic conditions where the subject is experiencing an altered state of reality. I just happened to have some on me."

"I very nearly understood that," Vetinari said, drily.

"Think of them as dried frog pills, sir." Ponder Stibbons suggested.

"Impressive." Vetinari said.

He moved on to inspect Raj and made a few affable remarks on how things must appear to operate differently from a world which is a flat Disc. Never mind, I'm sure you'll get first-class opportunities to observe the operation of celestial mechanics on a different world. You have a Professor of Astronomy, Mustrum? Capital!"

Meanwhile Johanna and Penny were racing down the corridor. There were Dark Clerks outside.

Hes enyone been detained yet, Sharon?" Johanna asked.

Sharon Higgins shook her head.

"I think he's intrigued, Johanna. And amused. He will want to see you, though."

Johanna sighed, took a deep breath, and walked in.

She saw Vetinari sitting at a lap-top, with Howard Wolowitz nervously giving him some very basic tuition.

"So in theory, the whole sum of human knowledge is available via this Internet?" Vetinari said. In the background chalk scraped as Sheldon and the Bursar played the game of Duelling Equations.

"Er. Yes, sir." Howard said.

Vetinari typed a phrase and hit "enter".

"Fascinating." he said. "Tell me, who edits it?"

Howard was nonplussed.

"Well… I guess it's a peer-editing enterprise." He said. "Kinda."

"Exactly, Mr Wolowitz." Vetinari said. He pushed his seat back and stood up. He nodded to Johanna and Penny, then walked over to where Sheldon and the Bursar were debating higher theoretical physics through the medium of chalk and board. A lot of chalk dust was flying.

He waited placidly until somebody noticed. In the event it was Sheldon.

"Excuse me. Who are you, exactly?" Sheldon Cooper asked Lord Vetinari.

A room full of people wincing shouldn't normally make a noise. This room did. Johanna did the face-palm thing and Penny squeaked "Sheldon!" in a voice higher than Bernadette's.

The Patrician took his time before replying.

"A fair request. As you are evidently a newcomer to this city. My name is Havelock Vetinari. We'll get round to my occupational status later, perhaps? And I rather suspect I am speaking to Doctor Sheldon Cooper. Doctor Smith-Rhodes and Miss Pénèlope de Pasadène spoke about you."

"Penny? But her second name is…"

"Not important, Sheldon!" Penny squeaked. Sheldon looked at her in mild surprise, taking in her local clothing.

"Whose dress sense appears to have stepped backwards in time by possibly ninety years. Perhaps a century." he remarked, mildly.

"Doctor Cooper. Please explain about yourself to me. In your own words. You will find me an attentive listener." Vetinari said. He stood back as Sheldon gave him the full story.

"Fascinating." Vetinari said, eventually. "I am perhaps obtaining an understanding as to why you get on so well with Doctor Dinwiddie."

"I am privileged to stand next to a genius." Sheldon said. "Possibly one of the two most brilliant minds in this room."

"No doubt." Vetinari said, drily. Watching, Johanna had an impression of watching a skilled trout fisherman playing out a long enough line.

"But, Mr Vetinari." Sheldon said. There was another audible wince. "You have not yet told me who you are."

"I have a position in the administration of this city." Vetinari said. "although it might help you more if I were to say I have university degrees, or the equivalent of, in literature and modern languages. While I've never tested the proposition, I believe that if I were to go into an examination room and sit, unseen, a degree-level test in what is called Politics, Philosophy and Economics, I would not disgrace myself. A lower second-class degree at least, I fancy."

Sheldon looked down his nose for a second.

"Oh, the Arts." he said. There was something dismissive about it. "And the Social Sciences. The Inhumanities." Sheldon made a snorting little laugh at his own joke. Vetinari looked on, seemingly uninsulted. He even smiled slightly.

"The Inhumanities." he repeated, as if the thought had only just struck him. "How very apposite, Doctor Cooper. I will remember that one. No doubt you will too."

"Of course I will. I have an eidetic memory." Sheldon said.

"I'm pleased." Vetinari said. "Excuse me a moment."

He turned to Mustrum Ridcully.

"Arch-Chancellor, is Empirical Crescent still part of the university's property portfolio?" he asked.

"I'm afraid it is, sir. No bugger will buy it. Can't even rent the damn place, either!"

"Well, after due consultation, you have tenants now. I am happy for the likeable Doctor Hofstadter and Miss de Pasadène to remain here as University guests, as was intended. Provided none of the Roundworld artefacts leave this suite of rooms, and outside access to them is restricted, those things which make this a home from home for them may remain."

Vetinari nodded at Penny and Leonard.

"A pleasant young couple, whose talents are of undoubted worth to this city. However, the other visiting academics from Roundworld whose skills and aptitudes are yet to be constructively demonstrated. Obviously they cannot remain here. I believe Doctor Cooper is a young man who appreciates an intellectual challenge. Should he remain in this City, he is to be offered lodgings in University property – at Empirical Crescent. He might find things there to pose an ongoing challenge to his scholarly intellect. Who knows, he might even work the place out? The other young men can join him there where there is ample space for many people."

Vetinari paused again.

"The pleasant young lady called Lucy should remain in the personal care of Doctor Smith-Rhodes and Miss N'Kweze. I understand they have been her guardians on a previous visit. Doctor Rostenkowski-Wolowitz might appreciate meeting some of our own pharmacists and apothecaries, to share knowledge with them for the mutual benefit of all. Thank you all for your time, most enlightening!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) So far the only thing that had made Johanna less than completely assured as Penny's guide had been mention of somebody called Mrs Whitlow. Penny had not met Mrs Whitlow. After seeing Johanna's worried look, Penny was in no hurry to meet Mrs Whitlow.

(2) She asked Olga Romanoff about this when introducing her to Penny. If Leonard had discovered latent Wizard skills on the disc, was Penny therefore developing Witchcraft? Olga had checked it out. Her reply was "No, she's not magic. Not in the full -blown witch way. But there's one specialised thing. She's good at Enchantress skills. You know, getting men to do what she'd like them to do. That's a sort of Witchcraft. She could bluff as a Witch. Around men, anyway. At least, till she gets found out by somebody like Mistress Weatherwax."

Notes Dump:

That place for non-linear discontinuities, things and concepts which will prove the essential truth of the Copenhagen Interpretation and which, in the manner of waves and particles projected through a slit, might impinge on either the past or the present of the tale or multiple alternate-universe versions thereof. Odd stray thoughts with no immediate relevance to the tale at hand, but which need to go down somewhere lest I forget.

I had ideas for Sheldon's independent discovery of a route to the Discworld. These involved the two Professor Rothmans; Caltech's eccentric nudist and Unseen University's Professor of Trans-Temporal Portals. Sheldon would have crossed to a Discworld some years behind California, and excitedly got Rothman (UU) interested in the idea of visiting Caltech. Rothman would have tried, but Sheldon's interference meant he was opening up a portal some years behind the present for California. He would also have discovered that the other Rothman(Caltech) was his Doppelganger. So crossing physically was not possible for either. But, Sheldon having crossed back and spoken to a really lunatic physics professor (his Rothman), would have engineered a meeting between the two so they could shout physics at each other through the portal. Bledlows passing by at ground level would have seen a Wizard leaning out of his window shouting into thin air and apparently having a conversation with it. Nothing unusual for UU. Anyone passing the ground-floor storeroom at Caltech would have seen their Professor Rothman talking into a bare wall. And listening for answers. Nothing unusual for Caltech. The mystery of Rothman (UU)'s missing professional papers which foxed Ponder and the Librarian would be explained. They were passed to his alternate at Caltech for safekeeping and are in a disregarded crate somewhere, ignored since Sheldon and Kripke fought to inherit his corner office. Possibly stored in Leonard's office? With Leonard vowing to try and make sense of them sometime?

This foundered on a difficulty. Sheldon would be marooned in UU several years in his past. How could this be fitted in? Could he have revisited Caltech, several years in his own past, without being tempted to drop in on himself and Leonard and the others? And when Johanna and Ponder turned up, he would have remembered… Couldn't find a halfway plausible working out of this.

I am now working on the revised story that the two Rothmans did indeed make contact off their own bat. No Sheldon involvement. But being considered a loony even by Caltech standards meant that their Professor Rothman's claims of having made contact with another world were ignored. Or maybe he wasn't so mad: he kept quiet about it, reasoning as our Caltech guys did that to speak about it would be the utter ruin of his cushy academic number, with tenure and a retirement deal…

Chapter 35: The Crooked House Investigation

Wheeler-Bell Thirty

Wheeler-Bell 35: The Crooked House Investigation

Well, we're back!

Unseen University, Ankh-Morpork.

EDIT: adding a third necessary footnote.

Vetinari had offered Sheldon Cooper a seemingly affable and friendly handshake prior to leaving the university, his judgement having been made concerning the fate of the majority of the visitors from Caltech.

"I will be watching your subsequent activities in this city with great interest, Doctor Cooper." he had said. "I am certain you have the intellectual skills necessary for resolving, or at least quantifying, an ongoing mystery. I am also certain that this will be a practical problem from which you will derive much personal satisfaction. It will occupy your time here productively, offer the University practical evidence of your worth to become a Visiting Fellow, and all parties will derive benefit. Capital!"

And then he had gone, his Dark Clerks falling in behind him.

There was a long meaningful silence. Mustrum Ridcully shook his head. Johanna Smith-Rhodes breathed out. It was a long exhalation.

Ponder Stibbons, meanwhile, picked up what in Earth terms would have been a very-old fashioned notebook, almost a museum piece. To him, it was the sort of everyday thing you could buy off the shelf at a stationery store. He opened it and began reading. Johanna registered the look of sudden intent and absorption on his face.

"Sir?" Ponder said. He was disregarded.

"Hell, Sheldon!" Penny said. "You do know who that guy was, don't you?"

Sheldon shrugged.

"A man with at least one Arts degree." he shrugged. "Who despite that, or perhaps because of that, managed to get a civil service job in the civic administration here."

Mustrum Ridcully whistled through his teeth,

"True. So far as it goes." he remarked. "Which is like saying bloody werewolves need walkies once every month."

"Sheldon." Penny said. "I guess if you went to the White House, and George Bush met you in the Oval Office. You'd be sayin' "So who are you?" and askin' him what degrees he's got!"

"Actually, I don't need to ask. President Bush has a Bachelor of Arts degree in History and an MBA master's degree in Business Studies." Sheldon said. "From Yale, admittedly, but still arts degrees."

"Sheldon. Hold that word. President. Even I could grasp that guy is the President of this country." Leonard Hofstadter said. "It's not as if you pissed him off or anything."

Ridcully smiled slightly.

"Oh, you annoyed him, alright." he said. "The Patrician can get inventive with people when he gets annoyed."

He studied Sheldon. Sheldon studied him back.

"You know, lad." he said. "University doctorate. Several university doctorates, in fact. No social skills. Inability to read a situation. Lack of self-preservation skills. Can't see trouble coming. Great big sense of intellectual conceit wide as a World-Elephant's arse, pardon my Quirmian. I'm half-inclined to offer you a Fellowship. You'd fit in round here."

"Sir?" Ponder Stibbons said again, more insistently. Ridcully glanced down at the notebook he was holding up.

"Anyway. Patrician wants me to give you a job to do. You don't say "no" to the Patrician. Miss Penelope over there has met him. She can tell you. She seems to have your best interests at heart. Well, somebody needs to! You'll be doin' this University a service too, which is why all you clever young buggers who know your way around Quantum can have the run of the place, and live there rent-free. Might even throw in yer livin' expenses, too! And Good Gods, Stibbons, that's one of Rothman's notebooks! Where did that come from?"

"The Roundworld, apparently, sir." Ponder said.

Caltech, Pasadena.

Johanna and Ruth had diplomatically-but-firmly shepherded Howard, Raj, Bernadette and Lucy back to Pasadena, pointing out that they still had jobs to be present at on this side of the divide, and reminding them that travelling via the Portal, as opposed to on the Travelling Engine, was not instantaneous. Going via this route meant that time passed at an equivalent rate on both sides, and the longer they stayed away, somebody was bound to notice.

Johanna returned to her assigned office at Caltech to catch up on necessary work there. She asked HEX if she could return to Ankh-Morpork for an hour or so later on, so as to meet her three o'clock appointment with regard to viewing premises for the Cheesecake Factory (Ankh-Morpork) Limited. HEX said he thought there would be no problem with that and he'd being the Engine over to collect her, so as to get her back here almost instantaneously by Pasadena time.

Johanna smiled. Then several thoughts struck her. She sorted them into order.

"HEX? If there are two ways to travel between here and Enkh-Morpork. With one, time flows et the normal rate. The laws of physics es the Roundworld knows them mandates this. The other way is via the Trevelling Engine. Which is under your control. You cen manipulate the relative flow of time in both worlds, es in this interpretation, the Roundworld is a construct of the Discworld, end subordinate to it."

She paused. Thinking like a research wizard did not come easily to her. Her intellect worked in more practical and immediately relevant ways. Being a zoologist meant she had to think quickly on her feet, and very often to use her feet. Knowing when to use your feet when dealing with large unpredictable animals was not something theoretical physicists, for instance, had to do very often. It created a different sort of academic intellect.

"Two different ways for time to pess. Is it because of this thet there are currently two versions of me? One of me pessed via the engine, end the other via the Portal? The portal which Sheldon opened up? So that time pessed et different speeds for both of me?"

++It is an interesting thought, Johanna.++ And certainly possible.++But at present insufficient data exists.++I am still analysing this.++It would appear that a random factor is present.++

"HEX, are you saying this because it is the complete truth, or does this thing called Peredox epply?"

++Paradox is always a problem when discussing temporal anomalies, certainly.++

HEX would not be drawn further. Johanna sighed and went on to her other question. As she listened, she marked and graded some student work that had been delivered to her. It was second nature to her. At one point she sighed deeply and reached for a red pen. At least this was earthing her into some sort of normality.

"HEX. The other thing. I did not like the way Lord Vetinari was smiling when he spoke to Sheldon Cooper. Tell me more about this place, Empirical Crescent."

++Certainly, Johanna.++ Empirical Crescent was designed and built by Mr Burgholt Stuttley Johnson, when he had not yet been expelled from the Guild of Architects.++ It is a remarkable application of original creative thought to the ongoing problem of providing sufficient living space to an ever-growing population within the walls of Ankh-Morpork.++

Johanna listened. And winced. Well, it was good to get advance warning.

Unseen University, Ankh-Morpork.

Leonard, Ponder and Ridcully clustered around the notebook. Disregarded, the Bursar was pottering around the room. Penny was keeping a wary eye on a man she suspected was not just out to lunch, but also out for breakfast, dinner, afternoon tea and a light evening snack. As well as being out for a midnight run at the refrigerator. She quietly hoped Johanna would be back soon.

"We found seven or eight notebooks like that." Leonard said. He looked down at the mysterious orthography on the page. "When Sheldon and I were clearin' out his office. Packin' up his writings for long-term storage and evaluating it for the University. We thought he'd been entertaining himself. Playing an intellectual game involving creating an artificial language. There's a long tradition of academics doin' that sort of thing. Professor Tolkein, for instance. Err.."

Ridcully frowned down at the page.

"Vangelmesht snow runes." he said. "Tsortean cuneiform. Betrobi Brown Speech."

"He keeps switching between various languages." Ponder remarked. "Always dead or obscure Discworld scripts. Although here and there he uses Old High Cenotian."

"That's the sorta Hebrew, right?" Leonard said. "That was the only bit we could make out. Howard took it to a rabbi when we thought we were onto something. Had the idea it might be a kinda Rosetta Stone that would help us decode the rest. Rabbi said it read like it ought to be from a Torah scroll, but it was like somebody was tryin' to write new Bible verses. You know. Bad fan fiction. Said it raved a bit, going on about mirrors and reflections and windows."

Leonard sighed.

"The Rabbi asked how near Rothman was to getting his normal mind back. He's in a private rest home out near Ventura now."

"Ah. Went Bursar." Ridcully said, kindly. "Occupational hazard, lad."

"Anyway. None of these scripts corresponded to any known Earth language. We checked it out with people from the Linguistics Department. Until Sheldon pissed them off. No alphabet ever on this… our… planet. We didn't even know how to read the words. Apart from the Hebrew. And that didn't make much sense. So in the end we boxed everything up."

"Hmm." Ponder said. "He's dated everything, sir. So it's in chronological order. This feels like it's partway into the story. We'll need all the notebooks, Leonard. And they'll take time to read."

"On it, Ponder. One of us can cross back over and get the rest. Sheldon said they're all in the storeroom on the other side of the Bridge. Right under our noses."

"Hmm." Ridcully said, thoughtfully. "I'd like to know how our Rothman's writings ended up on your world. Fella was probably tryin' to be too clever by half. Puttin' his work where nobody on our side could find it. So he has a Doppelganger on your side. And they corresponded, by the look of it. Listen.

"I spoke to my shadow-self in the shadow-world at length today. I am astounded that he is like to a reflection in the mirror. Am I speaking to one who has real existence, or is he merely a reflection of my own mind, a tulpa, a creation of my fevered imagination, or a thing of Magic I have called into being?"

"And we all thought Rothman was goin' gaga. Well, you live and learn."

"From what we know about Doppelganger theory1(1), sir, they could never touch. Physically." Ponder said.

Ridcully shook his head.

"They didn't need to, lad. They could still stand on opposite sides of a portal and talk. Or shout at each other across the gap. And I'm bettin' they could exchange research material. One fella puts it in the middle, the other fella picks it up. That's within the rules."

They read on. In the background, Penny said, uncertainly

"Hey, you seem to be getting' the hang of the Internet. What's that you're lookin' at… well, 'least it ain't the icky stuff the other guy was bringin' up."

Penny had sighed with resignation that first time out, the Senior Wrangler had discovered Internet porn. It seemed somehow grimly appropriate. Take people from an alien world who'd never used the Internet before. And they go straight to the nudie pictures. She wasn't surprised, somehow. Not so much "Take me to your leader!" as "Where's the porn?"

She looked down at where the Bursar was engrossed in looking at pictures of some old mediaeval scroll with lots of incomprehensible scratchy writings and pictures of plants and junk.

Well, it's keepin' the crazy old guy happy, and stoppin' him from hurtin' himself or causin' any damage to anythin'…

"Stibbons? Cross back over with young Hofstadter and check out the rest of these notebooks, would you?" Ridcully directed, as he sat down to read the first Rothman manuscript. "And be careful. It occurs to me that the thing holdin' this Portal open might be Discworld magical artefacts on the other side. Makin' a bridge, you follow. Bring 'em all back over at once, the portal might close on you. Don't want that just yet."

Caltech, Pasadena.

"It's not that bad." Howard Wolowitz said, thoughtfully. "They want us to live over there and they've even found us a place to stay. Rent-free. Ruth says it's in an upscale district. Like Beverly Hills or Hollywood Heights. Hell, the old guy, their university president, said he'd even pay us. Living expenses!"

"So. We get to stay on their planet for a while. Johanna, Ponder and Ruth are on hand to help. And Lucy's been there!" Raj said. "Hey. Leonard said they've got comic books. I wonder what the food's like?"

"The drinks are okay." Lucy said. "Bars that look like old-time English pubs. The one Johanna and Ruth took me to serves something pretty like tequila sunrise."

"And we go on the Engine. So however long we stay there, no time will have passed here. Two pay packets, guys. One on each planet." said Howard.

They contemplated the attractive prospect. Being in two places at once. Getting paid by both. Seeing a different planet. Getting cred with another University and the Holy Grail of academics everywhere – two full-time salaries for what amounted to part-time work.

"An unparalleled opportunity." Sheldon Cooper said. "To see another world. To advance the sum of human knowledge. To be ambassadors for Earth on a whole new world! To boldly go!"

He paused.

"Even if we can't actually talk about it to anybody."

Bernadette frowned. She had a better sense of reality than Howard, Raj or Sheldon.

"Yeah, guys. But Ruth didn't exactly tell us much about this Empirical Crescent place." she reminded them. "She looked kinda worried. Especially when that other guy turned up. Lord Vetinari. The one who suggested we go there. Ruth said you do not mess with him! You might have got him pissed at you, Sheldon. You considered that at all?"

"Maybe if we talk to Johanna?" Lucy suggested, practically. "And Amy's not visited yet. We should bring her."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna took care to be actually seen in Caltech, so that people would remember. She made a point of going down to the canteen for a coffee and said "hello" to a couple of her students here. She was even beginning to remember their names. The cellphone in her pocket went off. She remembered which button to press to receive the call, then spoke to HEX about the cab ride she needed to take shortly before three.

She discovered the Travelling Engine sitting in her office, glowing and humming with intent, and got aboard. She closed her eyes against disorientation, and reappeared in the apartment at Unseen University.

"Ready to go, Penny?" she asked. Looking round, Johanna saw Ponder and Ridcully, engrossed over a stack of notebooks and excitedly talking about translation conventions.

The Bursar appeared to be really getting the hang of the Internet with minimal assistance from Leonard and Penny, and had worked out you could operate that clever little printing press, I can't believe you make them so small, by hitting this button marked CTRL and this one marked RETURN with the arrow on it, simultaneously. She shrugged. This seemed to be wizard stuff, and no doubt Ponder would explain it to her later. There appeared to be no danger of anybody getting blown up, vapourised, disembodied or otherwise inconvenienced. To Johanna, this was a good thing when being around Wizards, and nothing to concern her. Yet. She took Penny's arm and they excused themselves. The door closed behind them, unheeded.

Leonard curiously asked what the Bursar found so interesting in the Voynich Manuscripts, anyway.

"Oh." said the bursar. "I saw the Sledgehammer Plant of BhangBhangDuc on the page, illustrated in its dormant phase. Interesting you have them on your world, too."

He reached for the little brown pill bottle Bernadette had left him.

"I must say, your world also does really good Dried Frog Pills. I've never felt so alert, and my brain's never worked better. And it occurs to me. People on your world can speak and write Early Mediaeval Sumtrian, too? My word!"

Leonard blinked. Then he said

"Err? Sir? Ponder?"

Another connection had been made.

Short Street, Ankh-Morpork:

Johanna and Penny got out of the cab. Johanna nodded at a larger and more modern building just down the street.

"The Enimel Menegement Unit". Johanna said, laconically. "I'm proud of thet. Took a lot of persuading to get the Guild to finance me. I cen show you round later."

But first they had a factory to visit. Joan Sanderson-Reeves was waiting for them.

"Won't take too long, m'dears." she said. "I can give you a professional opinion as to what you need to do for getting a business up and running. Apparently the last owners made biscuits, and a lot of the ovens and things are still here. But of a brush-up, and they'll be as good as new."

A brown-overalled janitor let them in, and a man in a suit introduced himself as the property agent for His Grace the Duke of Ankh.

They moved among dust-covered industrial ovens, racking and storage spaces, Penny taking in the building that would soon, nominally at least, become hers. She wondered if she was up to it. Although a strong inner voice was screaming at her "Do it, girl! This is your big chance! Do you want to be a waitress workin' for somebody else for all your life?"

Then the property agent went "Err…".

Johanna didn't like that sort of "errr…". It said "trouble."

She looked round to where the property agent was staring uncertainly. And smelt the cigar smoke.

"You know. When people I recognise as Assassins apply to rent a property I nominally own. That interests me." Sam Vimes said. He stepped out of a shadow and flicked the ash from the end of his cigar. "As I get right of veto on people I rent to, the two of you can convince me you want this building for a purpose I might even approve of. Surprising though it may seem."

Vimres scrutinised Penny. She recognised cop making me out. And this is a good cop. It alarmed her.

"And you can introduce me to your friend, ladies. She doesn't look like an Assassin. Although appearances can deceive."

Vimes grinned mirthlessly.

"And when we've done that, Johanna, you can explain why I got a commendation letter concerning you from a police chief who isn't just in another city, he's on another bloody planet. No hurry. Take your time."

Johanna winced. It was going to be one of those days.

Unseen University, Ankh-Morpork.

"It's an enigma, Ponder." Leonard said. "The Voynich manuscript seems to date from the thirteen or fourteen hundreds, probably from Italy. It's not written in any known Earth script, the drawings are of plants that mainly don't exist on Earth, and nobody's ever been able to translate the text. A hell of a lot of people have tried."

He peered down at the screen and frowned.

"Hey. That looks kinda like the writing in Rothman's notebooks…"

Mustrum Ridcully patted him on the shoulder, kindly.

"Looks like another leak, lad. Something from our world that ended up in yours. Maybe that HEX fella should take a look?"

++I am looking, Arch-Chancellor.++ With some interest.++ Perhaps if a scanning-eye could be used on Professor Rothman's notebooks?++ I can transcribe them for you if someone turns the pages for me.++

"Do it, would you, Stibbons? It'll save time. Get HEX to look into this Voynich thing for us too. If this is something of ours that leaked onto your world, and we didn't know about it till now, than we bloody well ought to know. Who leaked it, and how it came to get there. Like I said, I do not like surprises. If people are mucking around in the Roundworld and we don't know about it, that presumes there's a leak somewhere. I want it pluggin'. Get an expert too, who can identify these plants. Where's Pennysmart? And that bright woman at the Assassins' Guild. Doctor of Botany. Johanna can get her over. It's her area of expertise."

"Onto it, sir." Ponder said.

"And don't turn the pages yourself, lad. Unskilled labour. Get a bloody student, it's what they're for."

Leonard grinned. Some patterns of thought were universal… multiversal… in any University. And it looked as if pretty soon they'd know more about the Rothman enigma. And, as a bonus, clear up an enigmatic problem that had baffled some of the finest minds on Earth for several centuries. The thought excited him, even if he couldn't actually talk about it to anyone.

"Oh, and talk to whoever manages these things, lad. If we're accomodatin' six people at Empirical Crescent, Gods help them, make sure there are beds for them to sleep in, if they can, and chairs and tables and things. There must be storerooms here with that sort of thing. Get the essentials carted over."

Ponder considered.

"There's a Facilities store for the Halls of Residence, sir. I'm sure it'll have the usual furniture in stock for student rooms. I'll find out, talk to whoever's in charge. If somebody can be there to receive it, given the, er, unique local conditions. Maybe it's best if I go over. I've been there before and I've got a sort of idea of the layout. Errr."

++Perhaps if I bring over Howard and Raj.++ They can meet you there.++ I suggest Doctor Cooper and the ladies arrive later, when everything is prepared for them.++Doctor Farrah-Fowler is yet to make even her first visit, for instance.++

"Another lady academic." Ridcully said. "Well, if she's a friend of Penelope's and she's as bright as that little blonde girl who did wonders with the Bursar – amazin' little lady, knows her dried frog pills – than I'll be pleased to have her aboard. Academia needs more bright able young women!"

Ponder sighed.

"Doctor Farrah-Fowler, sir, would find lots of things in this world to be fascinating." he said. "Starting, I suspect, with the Bursar. Although I really hope she's grasped something fundamental about the Librarian."

They made arrangements to have Rothman's journals taken, under guard, to the main HEX terminal down in the HEM. Ponder vetoed having it done here. Roundworld computers in the hands of typical Unseen students. Too much distraction. He'd seen Roundworld computer games, for one thing. And the Senior Wrangler and unerringly been drawn, first go, to one of the more notorious uses of the Internet. A student assigned to mere data-input and page turning could get very bored and distracted very quickly.

Ponder also clacksed the Assassins' Guild to leave a message with Johanna. Could she explain to Doctor Bellamy a thing of professional concern had appeared at the University and that she might be interested? Her professional expertise would be welcomed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna, meanwhile, had just had the sort of brief and embarrassing interview with Sam Vimes that she was keen to forget. It concerned the commendation she'd received from the Los Angeles Police Department and Mr Vimes being stumped as to what sort of response he should make. The cardinal sin, in his eyes, was that his Special Constable had generated Unnecessary Paperwork.

Meanwhile, Joan Sanderson-Reeves had cast a professional eye over the projected factory, assessed it as needing a Damn Good Clean, and had stated there was no help for it, the first thing was to employ cleaners to scrub the place to within an inch of its life and polish the ovens. Get some new worksurfaces installed. Lots of shelving, racking and storage space. Bowls, mixers, implements. See Keble at his job shop, recruit for staff. Might be a good idea to invite that clever girl from the Times, giver her a taste, get publicity out. Run one of the cheesecakes over to Ramkin Manor, perhaps, get Johanna out of a hole with Sam Vimes, give Sybil a taste, get her onside.

"Convince Sybil, she'll win over Sam." Joan said. "I have a feeling she'll quite like you, m'dear!"

"No offence." Sam Vimes said. "Assassins call round strictly by appointment. This whole idea interests me. Shall we say… seven o'clock tonight? I'll tell Willikins you're expected, and you'll be spared the usual. I'll give you a decision then. This cheesecake idea had better be good!"

"It will be, sir." Penny said. Hell, she kept running into people she sensed were not to be made pissed at you. This city seemed to be full of them.

"Then we can get this place up and running inside, oh, ten days!" Joan declared. "Get the right staff, of course. I'll advise!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mrs Whitlow was brisk, efficient and a good organiser. She listened politely to Ponder as he explained the requirements – six postgraduate researchers from a different University were to be housed on an external site during their stay in Ankh-Morpork as Research Associates. Could she advise on the sort of furnishings a currently vacant site needed to bring it up to spec and make it liveable, and make arrangements for the necessary items to at least be delivered there?

"And three of them will be young ladies." she said. She looked sternly at Ponder.

"Ai sincerely hope propriety will be respected, and there will be separate bedrooms?" she asked, sternly. She glared at him as if suspecting that Hanky would happen at least, if not the consequent Panky.

Ponder forced a smile.

"The party does include a married couple, Mrs Whitlow. The others are single people."

The University's Housekeeper nodded, making her decision.

So, five bedrooms, then. They will also need kitchen and ablutions facilities. And the necessary offices. Ai shall make out a checklist and supervise delivery. Which external residence site is this equipment directed to go to?"

Ponder told her. She paused, and looked thoughtful.

"I see." she said. "It has not been touched for some time and requires cleaning. Dusting. Ai shall send my most experienced people. Ksandra usually performs the difficult tasks about this University." (2)

She glared sternly at Ponder.

"Given the location, Professor Stibbons, you will, of course, be pleased to authorise a suitable completion bonus. And danger money."

Ponder assured her this was fully understood. Given the location. He went away, wondering exactly how to brief Sheldon and the others about Empirical Crescent. Solving the place would be advantageous and he understood why Ridcully was happy to pay them at least basic expenses and to allow them to live rent-free. Nobody else wanted to live there at the moment. The University was losing money on its investment in the place. But still… on top of surviving in Ankh-Morpork. They get Empirical Crescent, at the express wish of the Patrician, who thought it an ideal place for Sheldon Cooper to dwell. After first meeting Sheldon.

He winced, and wondered if Ruth N'Kweze could be released from her Guild School duties to live in with them as a bodyguard and local escort. He pondered the cost of another Assassins' Guild contract for services. She could hardly be expected to work for free. He decided to ask Johanna. Well, one of her.

"Mrs Whitlow? On reflection, could you please provide furniture and living space for seven? The possible seventh person will be a local guide and resident escort to the party. A fourth woman. Single."

He thought this wasn't nearly enough, and added

"A trusted colleague of Doctor Smith-Rhodes. Personally selected and trained by her."

He knew Mrs Whitlow liked Johanna. She smiled and said she would get onto it straight away, Professor Stibbons.

Ponder sighed with relief. Now all he – and HEX – had to do was to brief them. Make them aware of the hazards without alarming them. He decided to go and refresh on what was definitely known concerning Empirical Crescent.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) go to my tale Doppelgangers, that expands on the idea of contact between Roundworld and Discworld. It also crops up in Slipping Between Worlds, where two Alice Bands almost meet. Wondered for a moment about there being another Johanna in our South Africa. But she can't be alive in this time-frame, or Johanna from the Discworld would not have been able to cross to Pasadena.

(2) Ksandra is the hapless underling of mrs Whitlow, who in canon gets the really dirty and difficult jobs around Unseen University. I give her a tale to herself in Exit Interview, where she considers doing something less hazardous, like working as a personal maid/cleaner/support worker to resident Lady Assassins, just for the variety.

(3) Spoiler alert: because any decent tale needs more than one Footnote. It's expected. Well, in this case an Abovenote. The referent is to And He Built A Crooked House, a science-fiction novella by Robert A. Heinlein. Tesseracts feature.

Notes Dump:

That place for non-linear discontinuities, things and concepts which will prove the essential truth of the Copenhagen Interpretation and which, in the manner of waves and particles projected through a slit, might impinge on either the past or the present of the tale or multiple alternate-universe versions thereof. Odd stray thoughts with no immediate relevance to the tale at hand, but which need to go down somewhere lest I forget.

Currently re-reading the original radio scripts for Douglas Adams' The Hitch-Hikers' Guide To The Galaxy. The reason being I want to see how a radio/TV script is constructed and experiment with re-writing some of my earlier tales, say from "The Civilian Assistant", into TV/radio script form to see if they work. I want to get the technicalities and the vocabulary right and re-present them in a more visual medium.

That indispensable guide, the L-Space Wiki, has this to say concerning Empirical Crescent, Ankh:

Designed by Bloody Stupid Johnson, Empirical Crescent connecting Park Lane to Prousts, looks like a normal set of houses on the outside, but the dimensions inside are a little twisted. Someone might live at number 1, but their bedroom could be at number 3 and the kitchen in number 5. It is okay to throw your junk out the window because it probably doesn't land in your garden. The one main advantage residents have is the low crime rate. This is probably due to the fact that most thieves prefer to only break into one house at a time.

Despite the best efforts of the Ankh Morpork Historical Preservation Society the place still hasn't been pulled down (as of Thud!) and its unique properties have ensured that not only do people not stay very long (owing to the problems of living in such a place) but it also lowers the value of the area around it, kind of like having a sink council estate beside a posh housing development, or for Americans, a Housing Project backing on to an upscale gated community.

Methodia Rascal, painter of The Battle of Koom Valley, lived here.

An Annotation to the above makes a very interesting link to a well-known science-fiction story(3) based on an intriguing inference drawn from Quantum Physics concerning multi-dimensional realities. This has already been incidentally discussed in a preceding chapter.

A stray idea.

Concerns the guild of Barber-Surgeons, who combined indifferent doctoring with bad haircuts. What about a surgery-cum-salon selling home-brewed nostrums for bad throats…

"FOR COUGH, AND DYE".

Wikipedia has a very long and copiously illustrated article on the enigma that is the Voynich Manuscript. All that is known for certain is that the material on which it is written dates to the late 1300's or 1400's, that it is an incomplete book with a significant number of missing pages, the text is in no known language, the plants it depicts are in the main fantastic or ambiguous, that it has two centuries of "missing history" and it is not referred to till the early 1600's, and that it's currently owned by Yale University.

The rest is speculation. Lots of speculation.


Chapter 36: The Inverted Double-Cross Topology

Wheeler-Bell Thirty-Six

Wheeler-Bell 36: The Inverted Double-Cross Topology

Well, we're back!

In which we learn how two Johannas came to be. Another Assassin adds new light and shadow to the mystery.A slight rewrite to fit in with the following chapter, in which Things Are Resolved.


Unseen University, Ankh-Morpork.

Ponder sighed with relief. Now all he – and HEX – had to do was to brief them. Make them aware of the hazards without alarming them. He decided to go and refresh on what was definitely known concerning Empirical Crescent.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lord Vetinari almost laughed. He smiled slightly.

"Just when I started to suspect nothing new could surprise me." he remarked to Rufus Drumknott. His secretary stood back, attentively.

"The new visitors from the Roundworld, sir?" he asked. Vetinari nodded.

"Indeed, Drumknott."

Vetinari looked out, reflectively, towards Unseen University. The windows of the Oblong Office had unparalleled views of the city. He made a noise almost like a chuckle.

"The Inhumanities." he said, mysteriously.

Drumknott paused.

"As in that which is taught by the Guild of Assassins, sir?" he inquired, carefully. Vetinari smiled briefly.

"That is certainly one interpretation, yes." he agreed. "Of, or pertaining to, inhumation. Although I suspect the person who coined the phrase meant to be somewhat derogatory, concerning what he views as a lesser academic option compared to the hard sciences. Ah, well. Perhaps by now others will have reminded him that a pune, or a play on words, can work on more than one level."

"Ah." Drumknott said, thoughtfully. "I assume we are referring to the visiting Roundworld academics? Who are, indeed, being escorted by a graduate of the Guild of Assassins?"

Vetinari nodded.

"I'm sure Doctor Smith-Rhodes, who deservedly received recognition for her skills with a doctorate in applied science, will be explaining this aspect to Doctor Cooper. At some length."

Vetinari smiled again.

"It was only ever meant to be a honorary doctorate, to give her opinions some academic weight. And then she presented Unseen University with a scholarly thesis on the management of magical animals in a non-magical environment. Based on her work at the Zoo, I believe. And thus, she turned a honorary higher degree into an actual one. Admirable."

Vetinari reflected on this.

"I do sense that zoological science occupies a lesser status in Doctor Cooper's interesting perception of relative value. But I rather think everything else in his world-view ranks below theoretical physics."

Vetinari smiled again.

"And his visit to our world allows me to put a very appropriately skilled person in exactly the right place. I rather fancy the enigma of Empirical Crescent is on the point of resolution. And his talents will be gainfully occupied there for some time. Capital!"

Caltech, Pasadena:-

Johanna and Ruth discussed the latest developments over hot soothing tea. Sometimes nothing else would do.

"One of us is going to have to be on call." Ruth said, hoping it wouldn't be her. She was getting to like it here, in this strange place full of wonderful things. For instance, she wanted to explore a culture that had lots and lots of style, fashion and cosmetic ideas for people with black skins and African hair. Ruth had found it depressing that fashion in Ankh-Morpork was geared to white-skinned people and hadn't grasped there was a minority who were not white. She had felt excluded. (1). Being in a country that, whatever its shortcomings, accepted it had a sizeable black population and tailored products to their needs – Ruth wanted to find out more.

"I egree." Johanna said. She was still wondering exactly how it had worked out that there were two of her. Looking on the bright side, it meant her alternate self – her future self – was doing everything that had to be done on the Discworld side and her role there was being covered. So there was no pressing reason for her to go back there justnow. (2) This suited her. Besides, she'd get round to all those things on the Disc eventually. Or maybe even justnow. The logic of the situation appeared to mandate it.

"Ponder's organising rooms end living space et Empirical Crescent." she said. There'll be a room set eside for whoever nursemaids them end escorts. Sometimes it'll be me. Right now it's going to hev to be you. But we've got a day or two. While the University sets up. We can get on with the things we hev to do here. End – when we trevel, it's strictly via the Engine. No pessing through the portal. I do not want two of you, too."

Johanna paused, and added, meaningfully,

"One of you is enough."

"Well, there's parity…" Ruth said, thoughtfully.

"One of you." Johanna repeated. "End preferably one of me, too. This could get confusing." (3)

They went on to discussing their respective day ahead at Caltech. At least this was everyday normal.

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork.

Ponder Stibbons accepted that the furniture and sundries that were being delivered should be stored, temporarily, in a downstairs living room of Number Five. At least, for now. It was here, it was in a lockable indoor room, and safe from theft. Johanna had given him an Assassins' Guild badge to mount on the front door, to point out, in a discreetly stylish and respectful way, who was looking after security here and exactly who would pursue any thieves for reparation and recovery of anything stolen.

Ponder also doubted if anyone, licenced or unlicenced, would ever want to break into Empirical Crescent. The place had a reputation.

He also trusted Ksandra to lead a small team of very experienced University below-stairs staff in preparing several bedrooms for occupancy. Ksandra got these sort of support jobs. She'd tried to work for employers outside the university, taking a career break to work for the Guild of Assassins as a cleaner and maid. The University had thought this was a good idea at the time. (4)

Ksandra had just got bored. Being a maid to Lady Assassins, who were generous, thoughtful and courteous employers, just didn't have the same bite to it. Johanna Smith-Rhodes had realised this and spoken to Ponder, who'd asked Mrs Whitlow, and Ksandra had come back with glowing references from the Assassins. She'd also informally learnt a lot of interesting survival skills, which came in useful for the kind of cleaning assignments the University now used her for.

She had taken some very necessary precautions and was upstairs – presumably upstairs – somewhere, making rooms ready. Somewhere was a vitally necessary qualifying term when referring to the interior of Empirical Crescent.

Ponder sighed, and reflected that Sheldon Cooper at least would find this to be a challenge. Hopefully it would keep him busy doing something useful, and out of harm's way.

The Staffroom, The Assassins' Guild School, Ankh-Morpork

Johanna Smith-Rhodes gratefully moved to her usual Spot on a wide window-ledge overlooking the quad. She whole-heartedly agreed with Sheldon Cooper that everybody needed a Spot that they could get territorial about. This was hers. At some previous stage in the history of the Guild, some thoughtful person had even thought to upholster it, giving the window-ledge a stuffed leather seat. Next to an open window, it allowed her and one other person, sometimes Alice Band, sometimes Joan Sanderson-Reeves, a ventilated place away from the worst of the classic school staffroom odours of tobacco smoke, desperation and perspiration.

Johanna was getting used to double-takes and perplexed looks by now. For quite a few days she had been getting puzzled looks and comments like "You're moving around quickly, aren't you? I just saw you in…"

She sighed, and listened to a tale of woe related by Mr Barton, a man nicknamed "Fanny" by the pupils for some indefinable reason,(5) who taught Morporkian Language and Literature.

"I tell you, that bloody, bloody, girl." Fanny Barton said, shaking his head. "Her approach to poetry."

He picked up a teacup with a shaking hand.

"She's elevated the poetic word to a weapon. I tell you. Her poems."

Alice Band looked kindly at him.

"She's in Tump House. One of mine. Do you want me to have a little word with her?"

Fanny Barton shook his head.

"She's got… well, that ode to a dead swan decomposing on the shore of a lake." He shuddered. "A morbid fascination with death."

"Well, she's in the right school, then." Alice said, sympathetically.

"When she reads her appalling poems in class. It makes.. well, it's almost as if my lower intestine wants to leap up and throttle my throat from the inside. You know? Miss Millstone-Jennings has got to be the worst poetess anywhere on this blessed Disc. She could recite her poetry as an inhumation weapon. And those people who do that bloody school magazine are encouraging her. They're actually giving her a regular Poet's Corner!"

Alice frowned.

"Rupert Mericet. That's his sense of humour all over."

She turned to Johanna.

"I believe your sister's writing for the Cloak and Dagger these days? That thing about the Worm's Eye View she wrote. Quite clever. Reminding people that when they look down on a Lower School pupil, that Lower School pupil is also looking up and making her own judgements. And some of them aren't flattering."

Johanna smiled slightly. She'd read her sister's piece. It had been a nicely judged piece of veiled insubordination stopping very carefully short of being actionable, No teachers or senior pupils could be conclusively identified, for one thing.

"I'll have a little word with Mariella." she said.

Fanny Barton brightened up.

"Now she's a talented pupil. Mariella Smith-Rhodes. A pleasure to teach. Amazing that Morporkian isn't her first language…" he faltered and looked at Johanna. "Errr… no offence."

"None taken." Johanna reassured him. "It is not my first lenguege, either."

"But that dratted girl. Paula Nancy Millstone-Jennings. I'm sure the others encourage her." (6)

Johanna placed her younger sister, a Second Year pupil, on a growing list of Things to Do. And damn. If Mariella noticed there were, at the moment, twice the previously accepted and agreed number of older sisters about the place, things could get really complicated.  (7)

She sighed.

At least, if her guess was right, and those things she was very carefully concealing from her several-days-younger alternative self (so as to avoid Paradox) were working out the way she thought, it would all come to a head soon. The Caltech gang would arrive in their allocated residence at Empirical Crescent the next day. Then The Event would happen.

She was still wondering how it would resolve itself. Ponder had said it was an inherently unstable situation, and everything should snap back to what passed for normality. The moment the universe realised there was a 100% over-stocking of Johanna Smith-Rhodes in this phase of reality. Apparently her two selves would converge, or the two dimensions would cease being schizophrenic, or something. It should be painless and untraumatic. Errr.

She winced. The only thing to do was to wait and see. But Ponder had been extremely clear on the need to Avoid Paradox. This was important to wizards. There was Observational Evidence, he said. Some odd thing had happened once in Sto Helit. Two different universes overlapping each other in the same place. It had all resolved itself. And the people involved were still alive. A wizard called Igneous Cutwell had written about it. Errr. (8)

Johanna sighed. About now her other self should be back in Caltech doing what needed to be done there. She ought to know. She remembered. And she'd travel over, with the Engine, and help Sheldon and the rest settle in at Empirical. She hoped it would be her. If Ruth crossed instead and she didn't, there really would be one enormous Paradox….

Johanna crossed her fingers. She was still smarting from her memory the interview with Sam Vimes the previous evening. Well, from her point in time, of a recent interview with Sam Vimes. Her alternate self would have had it the previous night. Twice the hideous embarrassment. At least Penny's open charm had won over Sybil. And cheesecake. Sam Vimes had conceded that in these unique circumstances, he could consent to rent to a consortium fronted by Assassins. Just don't even think of putting any creative additives in the things, or I'm nicking you both for adulterating foodstuffs. And Sybil had fallen in love with a new dessert. Her opinion carried weight with Sam. It could have been worse. Although Sam Vimes had darkly said he wouldn't forget about that bloody letter. How did she, Johanna Smith-Rhodes, propose to handle that one? Johanna had winced and decided to work something out with HEX that Sam Vimes could sign his name to.

In Caltech, things settled down for a day or two and everybody went about their lives there. This was of course necessary. Bernadette and Howard agreed that things could get complicated when it came to leading two different lives in two different worlds, at least for a while. It was agreed by mutual consent that the Einstein-Bosen Bridge should be used only for transit of inanimate things, to allow electrical power, wireless internet and necessary abstract qualities to cross to the Discworld. Given that time passed at equal speeds on both sides for people who crossed this way, it was agreed to use the Travelling Engine to take people over. And that this was the only way to prevent any embarrassing problems of continuity. It would be so easy to have a situation, for instance, where there could be multiple temporally out-of-step versions of people going back and forth.

Johanna winced. She was still hazy as to how there actually became two of her. Or would become two of her. She sensed the trigger event hadn't happened yet, at least in her personal time-frame. She also sensed the version of herself on the Discworld, still being her but several days older, knew or had worked it out, but couldn't say so outright because of Paradox. Not being a research wizard or theoretical physicist, trying to work it out made her head ache. She decided to do the only thing available, which was to ride it out and let it happen. She had gleaned from Ponder that this was best. She also reflected that all the temporaly separated versions of himself that had appeared at 2311 North Los Robles to get around the Housemates' Agreement had snapped back to their own correct places in Time when the pressing need was over. And Ponder, or a theoretical entity he referred to as Ponder Prime, was still here, unaffected. She hoped this was pretty much the same for her.

Ponder, on the Discworld, had also left a message via HEX to say letting things cool down for a day or two was necessary, if only to get everything into step with itself again and for University staff to get Empirical Crescent into order to receive residents. It also gave him time to work with HEX and Ridcully on deciphering Rothman's research notes. HEX was busy copying these into memory files to recall at will. Ponder would also supervise creating a memory stick version with original and translation that could be read via an Earth computer terminal. He stressed this had to be top secret, as well as any translation of the Voynich Manuscript that emerged. Leonard said this would not be a problem. If they went public on this one, that would be the end of a lot of promising academic careers.

Leonard and Penny had also returned to Earth to stay in touch with their lives here, and to be seen around Caltech and the Cheesecake Factory going about their everyday lives, as was necessary. HEX had said this was important, so that when all eight Roundworlders travelled over together – strictly via the Engine – everyone was starting out from the same objectively measured datum point in Time, and could all be returned to Earth, when necessary, apparent seconds after they had left.

Leonard was readjusting to being in a place where magic was not an option. He had tried to generate a fireball when he came back to the apartment, but nothing had happened. He sighed, accepted this was for the best here, and got on with things. Penny had been relieved.

Amy Farrah-Fowler had returned Cinnamon to Raj, and reflected that everything was now clear for her to make her first visit. She was excited and quizzed Bernadette, Lucy and Penny as to their experience.

"Apparently they got a pharmaceutical industry." Bernadette said. "Although they call it apothecary. You know, the old-fashioned name. A lot of it is plant-derived or animal extracts. Which is cool. That's where our pharmaceutics began. And there's a lot of cool stuff out there in plants and stuff that we don't know squat about. Hey, I could bring back new things! Ponder says there are people I should meet. People at his University. And a colleague of Johanna's does a lot of this sort of thing."

"Yeah." Howard said. "Colleague of Johanna's. Another Assassin. I can just see how that lady does biochemistry."

Bernadette scowled slightly.

"Johanna's OK." she said. "And she tells me her friend is pretty well-adjusted. Working mother. Combines a career with raising sons. Ran a business. University doctorate. Any woman who does that has got to be organised. And sensible. Got her head screwed on right."

Unseen University, Ankh-Morpork.

In the currently vacant apartment at the University, a group of excited people were clustered around a Roundworld computer terminal. Ponder Stibbons had given a basic teach-in concerning using Microsoft Office and Internet to consultant academics who had been asked for their opinion. HEX was on call for opinions and ideas.

Johanna Smith-Rhodes stood in the background, reflecting that there was now at most a day before The Event. She hoped her alternate self would realise and do what the situation appeared to dictate. Or Paradox would happen. If Paradox happened, Ponder would shout at her. She liked to avoid this. She wondered what would happen next. This was uncharted territory.

"Oh, my…" the woman at the computer said, excitedly. "That's the Accelerating Bamboo of Agatea."(9)

"The only plant capable of growing from a seed to twelve feet high in twenty seconds." said the Wizard standing next to her. "Outside the unique monoculture of Mono Island, of course."

"Thought to be escaped seeds from Mono Island that were wind-carried to Agatea." the woman agreed. She pushed her glasses up her nose. "And this was found on Roundworld?"

"Over there, it's a mystery and an anomaly." Ponder Stibbons said. "Currently the manuscript is a possession of a prestigious University there."

The woman scrolled through a few pages. There were over a hundred. She snorted in disapproving disdain.

"Evidently stolen from a library here." she said. "People just don't respect library books. There are whole pages torn out, by the look."

"Ook!" said one of the others, in whole-hearted agreement. The woman patted a long hairy arm with a sort of maternal tenderness. The arm was quivering with anger.

"I know. It's terrible, isn't it?" she said. "And I think I know which library it came from. I'm going to have to check records, I think. And if I'm right, this causes a problem."

"Doctor Bellamy, you suspect this was stolen from the Assassins' Guild?" Ponder Stibbons asked, politely.

Davinia Bellamy smiled slightly.

"Well, somebody's torn the page out with the library stamp and the return this book by stated date label. But it's one of ours. No doubt about it. I'm not fluent in the script, but it seems to read like a manual for identifying plants of interest to the Assassin and how they can be used to synthesise alchemical compounds and preparations. We routinely put these things into codes and obscure languages so if they go missing, they're only of limited use, unless somebody's been educated in reading the language. My guess is that this was written several hundred years ago, according to the understanding and knowledge available then. All the pages about astrology and which phases of the moon and stars are best to pick the plant and begin refining it, for instance. I think the Guild would consider this a museum piece and of limited practical use today. And this ended up on Roundworld?"

She considered the Voynich Manuscript again.(10)

"I'll have to refer this to the Dark Council. But the Guild does have a clear interest here, Arch-chancellor."

Ridcully sighed.

"Do what you have to, m'dear." he said. "Can't help feeling that if we steal it back from Yale University, somebody over there is going to notice, though."

"It appears to come from a region of Roundworld called Italy, six centuries before the date we're currently concerned with." Ponder Stibbons said. "We know the region was a patchwork of conflicting city-states locked in political intrigue. The Italians refined political infighting to a remarkably advanced degree and among other things, they had recognisable Assassins. What if somehow Assassins there made contact with the Guild here and traded secrets?"

"Contact was clandestine for necessary reasons. The link broke, the secret was lost, this book remained over there, and since it relates to plants un-known on Roundworld, the manuscript became an enigma and a curiosity." Davinia mused. "I'll ask. See what Guild history knows."

She looked down at the page.

"Why do people feel compelled to scribble in library books… I know. Terrible, isn't it? Ook, indeed. Ook. There appears to be a name here.

Jacobj à Tepenece. I wonder if we had an Assassin of that name? And this scribble. Looks Überwaldean. Der muszdel. Oh. And a line or two in what looks like Latatian. Interesting!"

Davinia read on, conferring with the Librarian, and with Professor Pennnysmart, the University's resident botanist. And an enigma on Earth for several centuries was being, without overmuch fuss, resolved. Leaving, as these things do, even bigger enigmas. Like How Did It Get There In The First Place, and What The Hell Do We Do About It?

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork:

Johanna Smith-Rhodes was one of the first people to cross from Roundworld. She rode the Engine with Lucy, reassuring her about the Discworld, and ensuring that before crossing she had taken a dose of the beta-blockers, against any attack of morphic incontinence. You couldn't be too careful.

++I regret I am unable to materialise inside the buildings of the Crescent++ HEX said. ++Given local conditions, this is not advisable.++ I will disembark you in the street outside.++Stand by.++

"Eccepted, HEX." Johanna said. She had even got to bring the dogs back with her. Kaffee and Crème stoically put up with travel, loving to be where their mistress was.

And now they were looking on what from the outside was an elegant, upscale, terrace of houses appropriate to upscale Ankh. Ponder joined them, and without too much fuss or drama, the others arrived in groups of two, with the hand-luggage they'd been advised to carry.

"Hey, wow!" Penny said. "This is kinda like that place in England. Bath. That big curvin' line of seriously stately houses."

"Shame about the gardens, though." Bernadette said. "Hey, maybe we could get the guys to tidy up?"

It was true: the gardens were neglected and overgrown. But the houses…. A smallish crescent of three-or-four storey houses. Beautifully designed, stylishly built, wonderfully proportioned and very reminiscent, to Roundworld eyes, of that place in England with the cool Georgian architecture. A casual observer who knew not nearly enough might speculate that even B.S. Johnson was bound to get it right once, if only by accident.

And then you went inside.

Amy Farrah-Fowler looked around her with interest. Then her nose crinkled.

"Hey. What's that smell?"

"You get used to it." several people said, more or less together.

Ponder Stibbons met them at the door to Number Five. It had been agreed that this should be the operating base.

"Welcome to Ankh-Morpork." he said, passing a large bunch of keys to Howard. "You have the run of the entire street, by the way. Twelve terraced houses, all owned by the university, and currently completely empty. Err. We've set up living space for everybody. I'm going to have to talk you through this…"

The hallway seemed normal enough. But several coloured strings led to various rooms and up the stairs. They had labels on like "Bathroom", "Bedroom One (single)" and "Master Bedroom (for the married couple ONLY!).(11)

"Do not, yet, go into areas which have not been scouted out." Ponder said. "You'll see why. Best you see for yourselves."

He and Johanna stood back and allowed everyone to work it out for themselves. They grinned uncertainly at each other. Then people started filtering back again.

"Er. Ponder." Howard said, uncertainly. "There's something odd goin' on here."

"Yes. That's what we want you all to investigate." Ponder Stibbons admitted.

Sheldon Cooper, uncharacteristically quiet till then, and reluctant to go to a place with primitive bathroom facilities. bounded down the stairs, whooping with joy.

"Ponder1 Ponder! Ponder!" he shouted, bouncing with joy. "I know what this is! I believe we're living in a tesseract! Thank you! Thank you so much! Oh, this is wonderful!"

Ponder Stibbons smiled.

"Now we're getting somewhere." he said.

Johanna suspected that Sheldon would now find himself capable of living with primitive bathrooms. He had a scientific mystery to investigate.

Accepting that they were living in a very crooked house indeed, the Caltech gang settled in quickly. Their first priority was to send out for takeaway food. Johanna helped facilitate this.

After a lunch, Howard started to apply an engineer's methodical mind to working out the intricacies of a building where the geographical location of the interior did not correspond at all  to, say, the views from the windows. This, he thought, was not typical behaviour for a building. And that was only the first complication. He proposed working methodically from Number One to Number Twelve, logging and mapping where all the staircases were, tracking the pathways using the Ariadne Principle of labelled string, and using the charged laptop computers they'd brought to create some sort of topographical map.

Having identified pathways to the rooms from their apparent starting points, and then photographing from the outside to see where a bedroom that was apparently in Number One was from the street outside. Somebody could stand in the window and wave, somebody outside could identify the window they were at. You know, build a picture. Get it mapped. Create a computer model. Sheldon could work on the physics stuff. He'd do the practical. Ask HEX to run people back to Caltech to recharge the laptops.

But looking out from inside. Some of the views from the windows…

Johanna smiled. With luck this would occupy them for some weeks. Keep them out of trouble and who knows, accomplish something useful: a systematic map of the inside of Empirical Crescent. It had never been attempted before.

It also intrigued her. She assisted in some of the explorations, her dogs bounding beside her. She was intrigued that the view from one top-floor room apparently appeared to be of Ankh-Morpork from ground level. She remarked on this to Sheldon.

"Perhaps we ought to try a conclusive experiment." he said, and moved to open the window. He paused, looking down.

"Doctor Smith-Rhodes?" he said, uncertainly. "You said this place has been unnoccupied for some time. But there are footprints in the dust. And the dust on the windowsill has been disturbed. Somebody has been in this room quite recently."

Johanna looked down. Sheldon was right; a trail of footprints and scuffs in the dust suggested somebody had moved in this room, in the opposite direction, from the window to the door. Kaffee and Creme bounded excitedly, scuffing the dust further, as if they'd picked up an interesting scent. She reflected.

"It may have been the cleaners the University despetched here." she suggested. But she frowned. Ksandra and her people had only had limited access. And Ksandra would have swept and dusted thoroughly.

"The footprints suggest boots." She looked down at a very clear bootprint. It looked familiar, like something she saw all the time, or a thing she saw so often her mind didn't really notice it any more. She smiled slightly.

"It suggests the sort of boot designed for Essessins." she said. "We routinely despetch our people on training missions around the City. I wonder which of my colleagues mey hev sent et least one of their students here."

Johanna inwardly speculated on who might have the sort of imaginatively nasty mind to make this their version of the Vimes Run for an over-confident student. And what that student had done to annoy their instructor to merit it.

"But it is nothing to concern ourselves with. Now this place is occupied egain, end the Guild is eware, there will be no others. Epart from myself and those known to you, perheps."

Sheldon accepted this, and moved to the window. The sash window creaked open with effort, although she noted it had been forced open recently. Another mystery. Johanna provided some slipall. The smell of what Sheldon recognised as WD-40 filled the air. It mingled with the background smell of Ankh-Morpork.

Sheldon said, thoughtfully, "We should do this…" and he climbed out of the window, Johanna remembered that an excited Sheldon had no sense of self-preservation. She sighed, and made to intervene. Then Kaffee barked excitedly and flowed Sheldon out. His sister followed.

"Oh, kak." Johanna said, remembering that Ponder had said to exercise caution when opening windows. Just in case. Just in case of what had not been specified.

She decided to retrieve her dogs. And Sheldon. Then leapt out herself, landing lightly in the undergrowth.

"It all seems perfectly normal." Sheldon said. "I'm going back in now." He made to climb back inside.

"I'll get the dogs." Johanna said, and went in pursuit. They'd gone chasing interesting smells in the gardens.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Anybody seen Johanna?" Bernadette asked. "She seems to have disappeared."

"I last saw her seeking to retrieve her companion animals." Sheldon said. "After we hopped through a window. To confirm that what we actually saw outside was there in reality. No doubt she'll return."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna caught up with Kaffee and Crème, then considered. The dogs needed a walk, after all. And it was a pleasant afternoon. She attached leads and decided everybody else was settling in and gainfully occupied. It didn't need her just yet. She went dog-walking down towards Prousts. It looked like a normal Ankh-Morpork day.

She decided to buy some dog treats and perhaps a copy of the Times.

A Klatchistani general stores provided what was needed. She frowned down at the front page of the paper. That headline looked familiar, somehow…

And then she saw the date.

Quite a few days prior to the one she thought was applicable. She had been here before. Johanna Smith-Rhodes realised, with a hideous sense of inevitability. Empirical Crescent wasn't just divergent in terms of space. It could land you in a different time, too. Following Sheldon and her dogs through that dratted damn window had deposited her at least a week into her own past. And there was now, she realised, doing a bit of intense reckoning, only one place she could possibly go. So as to avert paradox. Which Ponder was steadfastly against.

She sighed. No need to rush. She'd get there at the correct time. The situation mandated it. She considered recent events in the City in general terms. Bits of news that had registered. She dredged up a memory of a conversation with Emmanuelle les Deux-Epées concerning events of interest to Emmanuelle.

Johanna smiled with slight grim humour. Better get something out of this damn silly situation…

She detoured past a bookmakers' shop on her walk back to the Guild. She paced a hundred dollar bet on a horse whose name had cropped up in conversation with Emmanuelle. In the context of "thirty-three to one. Ma foi, I wish I knew these things in advance so as to lay a large bet!"

Quite a few thousand dollars would be handy as nuisance money, she decided. It must be a fringe benefit of time travel. She resolved not to mention this to Ponder. He'd only shout at her.

And then she returned to the Assassins' Guild, locked her dogs in the kitchen in her rooms so as not to alarm them, and passed the time marking student work.

Maybe twenty minutes later, the dopplering hum and multicolour light show announcing the Travelling Engine happened. She looked up and smiled slightly. The Doppler stopped shifting, the light show strobed down, and the humming sound faded out.

"Nnnghhh…." said Penny.

Johanna looked at herself with appraising interest. Still young-looking. No wrinkles yet. Spoke in a firm authoritative voice. She was relieved about that. Moved with a sort of grace. Still looking good, for thirty.

"Sweet freakin' Jesus!" Penny exclaimed.

"I knew you'd turn up around now." she said, in Vondalaans. "The situation mandates it."

After that it all took on an air of familiarity.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Things are changing now, but a sort of built-in element to British racism was the assumption that black women either didn't need or didn't use or didn't want cosmetics or similar products geared to their needs – the cosmetics trade, consequent advertising and marketing et c, even models used in adverts, treated a black minority as invisible or non-existent. Even dolls aimed at little girls were almost exclusively of little white girls. Many black women in Britain have commented on how this was their very first exposure to the casual everyday racism of British society. (wondering why there weren't any little black dollies for Christmas and birthdays). I'm not sure if this also applied in the USA, but I'm betting it did.

(2) Not a typo – "justnow" is a wonderfully elastic South Africanism that is as temporally variable as anything quantum physics has to offer. If a South African assures you they'll get onto something justnow, it can mean "in five minutes", "tomorrow", "next week" or sometimes "Never, or in an alternative phase of the multiverse". Think of Spanish mañana, Italian domani, et c. Johanna is using the idiom appropriately.

(3) There was an elephant in the room here, which was trumpeting very loudly and displaying signs of must. Both Johanna and Ruth had arrived at the appalling conclusion that if there was even the remotest possibility of accidentally generating multiple temporally-sundered versions of, for instance, Sheldon Cooper, this should be avoided. One of Sheldon was enough for anywhere.

(4) to my story Exit Interview.

(5) "Fanny" Barton is an initially Biggles-like RAF pilot in Derek Robinson's novel of air fighting in WW2, A Piece of Cake.. I just like the name and it's recycled here. Why not?

(6) Following my own advice concerning riding out the Block by getting something down on paper. And I have been re-reading Douglas Adams' radio scripts for H2G2. Why not insert a homage to seriously bad poetry.

(7) And there has to be a Mariella cameo somewhere. Damn, I'm getting quite fond of her, having written a massive one about Things She Did On Her Gap Year. This also fixes the series continuity, more or less: a year or two before Johanna marries Ponder (with Bekki arriving a year or so after that, with another few years before Mariella graduates…) Mariella would be about eleven- twelve here, and learning what she can get away with at the Guild School.

(8) to Mort by Terry Pratchett.

(9) A plant of specialised interest to the right sort of Assassin. The thinking goes that a seed or two, strategically planted in, say, the client's comfy armchair, would lie dormant until the right conditions for germination presented themselves. Let's say if the warmth of a human body immediately above were to allow the Accelerating Bamboo to wake up and, well, grow. Suddenly and catastrophically for the client. Bamboo has a thick woody stem and a very pointy coleoptile. Davinia Bellamy had indeed advanced this as a theoretical inhumation strategy for the right sort of client. The Guild had asked her to hold this one as while it was considered elegant, in a twisted sort of way, it needed a certain sort of Extreme Prejudice to apply in practice. The right contract hadn't come along yet.

(10) The Voynich Manuscript exists, of course, and everything factual about it related here can be confirmed by accessing the Wikipedia article. It remains a weird enigma.

(11) Mrs Whitlow had been very forthright about Decency.

Notes Dump:

That place for non-linear discontinuities, things and concepts which will prove the essential truth of the Copenhagen Interpretation and which, in the manner of waves and particles projected through a slit, might impinge on either the past or the present of the tale or multiple alternate-universe versions thereof. Odd stray thoughts with no immediate relevance to the tale at hand, but which need to go down somewhere lest I forget.

Tvtropes again: the character meme known in anime and manga as "The Cute Witch". Quote: Known in Japanese as majokko (魔女っ子), this is the original Magical Girl archetype.

Use this as an Agatean witch name? Majokko-san…..

Interesting quote from Swedish crime author Håkan Nesser:- "…women do not realise how much more cold-blooded they are than men, until after they have passed the menopause". (From "The Living and the Dead in Winsford") This could sum up my character of Joan Sanderson-Reeves, who didn't start inhuming men until her late forties. Got to work this into a story somewhere…. Observational gold.

Crossword-generated character names:

Baseball Brahms

Medusa Travesty

Chapter 37: The Smith-Rhodes Duplication

Wheeler-Bell Thirty-Six

Wheeler-Bell 37:The Smith-Rhodes Duplication


In which the illogic of there being two Johannas is further explored and a younger relative of hers might even make a cameo appearance. (No promises: I haven't even begun the chapter yet and all I've got is a rough plot and a few vague ideas to fit together… see "Notes Dump" for glimpses into the way my horrible mind works). I hope I haven't bodged or winged the resolution of the double-Johanna conundrum too much. This should fit the continuity, such as it is. Or was. Or will be.

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork

"Apparently there was a minor earth-tremor shortly after the Crescent was built." Ponder Stibbons explained. "So much of this city is built over other things that were here before, you see. There are apparently lots of tunnels, mines, earthworkings and so on underneath the surface and they haven't been mapped out yet. Err. That makes things a little less stable, sometimes, than we might like. We live with that. Anyway, things had been perfectly normal until the earth tremor. Then they started getting a bit strange. Err."

His listeners accepted this.

"Sounds kinda familiar". Howard Wolowitz observed. "From somewhere."

"Wonder where Johanna went to?" Amy Farrah-Fowler said. "Strange she went like that without leaving a message."

She frowned.

"Sheldon, you were with her…"

It sounded like an accusation. Everybody looked at Sheldon Cooper. He frowned, assuming an aura of unjustly injured innocence.

"Really. As I have said, at some length, she went out of that rather strange window, the one on the top floor that looked out on a vista at ground level, to call her dogs back. She did not return. Perhaps she is still looking for her dogs."

Ponder winced. Windows, in a magically-charged environment, could lead anywhere. He was a wizard. Some things came with the staff and the pointy hat. At least this time he'd been forewarned and had a very good idea as to where, or rather when, that particular window had opened to.

"We might not see her for a day or two..." he said.

++Doctor Smith-Rhodes has been unavoidably detained elsewhere.++ HEX said, speaking from a laptop. ++She is in no danger and there is no cause for concern.++ At present she has other matters to attend to.++ Lord Vetinari has arranged for Miss Ruth N'Kweze to be relieved of her duties at the Guild School to act as your guide, and I will bring her here presently.++ There is one other Assassin who will make herself known to you, and she is to be trusted.++She is keen to meet you, in fact.++ Other Guild members have been instructed to look out for you and to be helpful and supportive.++ Assassins you encounter will be friendly and accommodating.++

"Well, that's reassuring." Raj said.

Ponder winced. Assassin fees for escort and bodyguard services were not cheap. He wondered how Ridcully would react to the invoices landing on his desk requesting prompt payment.

++Professor Stibbons, such Assassin contract fees as will accrue will be dealt with.++I am taking measures.++In any case, Doctor Bellamy is volunteering her services pro-bono, as she is professionally intrigued by the situation, and keen to meet Doctor Rostenkowski-Wolowitz on a professional-peer basis.++

HEX did not elaborate. Ponder was not reassured, wondering how HEX would manipulate finance on his own world and how legal or ethical this was going to be.

++Doctor Koothrappali, I should advise you that the Emeritus Professor of Astronomy at Unseen University has asked to meet you.++Both Lord Vetinari and Arch-Chancellor Ridcully consider this would be a good idea.++

"Why not? You can see how we do things on this world." Ponder said. "We've got an observatory at the University."

An idea struck him.

"You never know." Ponder mused. "It might be interesting to see if you can work out the distance between here and Roundworld – the Earth – by the direct route. Just how far it is. Out of interest."

Raj said he'd be really interested. Being on the surface of a different planet and looking up into different skies – well, he'd have to be dumb not to take the opportunity.

After a while they went back to checking out the freaky things going on in the basement. Amy was down there. Dealing with things. In her own way.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Short Street, Ankh-Morpork.

"The way it works out, m'dear, a complete deep-clean of the premises will cost a couple of hundred dollars and last two or three days, but there's no helping it. It's got to be done." Joan Sanderson-Reeves said.

"Keep the invoices and receipts for the accountants to offset against tax, of course. Got a chap coming round, to measure for shelving and storage facilities. Now for the volume of work we'll be doing, we need to sit down and make a plan…"

Penny was oddly surprised at how easily all this sort of thing was coming to her once she stopped to consider the logic of it. As she said to Joan, it all appeared to boil down to raw materials in at this end. Preparation here. Cooking here. Cooling the product, packaging, storing it, then shipping it to grocery stores. Flow. Throughput. And hey, we got a long rectangular space. Reckon we can do everything in order, from one end of the place to the other.

"I can see you're thinking this out, m'dear." Joan said. She paused to look at a couple of the cleaning team, in a benevolent sort of way that still managed to communicate that they were being watched. Work duly picked up. Joan nodded and moved on. Penny smiled at the cleaners.

"Great job, guys. Appreciated." she said.

Penny had often wondered about starting her own business. She couldn't be a waitress working for somebody else forever. And there was a remote possibility, appalling thought it was to contemplate, that she might not make it big as an actress after all. She needed a fall-back position. But up until now, the only attempt she'd made had been the abortive home crafting business, making fascinators and fashion accessories. And that had only worked because the guys had pitched in and generously provided unpaid labour. Lots of unpaid hard work. She felt she still owed them for that. Still, she'd learnt a lesson in how not to do it. Useful.

And here she was, looking at a bank of industrial-sized baking ovens.

And parts of her head that she didn't even know she had were switching on and saying Well, we can't move these ovens. They're kinda plumbed in. so we need the food preparation areas over here. The made-up pasty cases and the mixed liquid cheesecakes go through the ovens. They gotta come out here and be set aside to cool. Needs cooling racks. When they're cool, they go for prettying up. Needs another line here of tables, women with piping bags and junk. A place for them to store ingredients and mix the frosting. Then they gotta be packed. Inner and outer wraps. Then stacked and stored safely to go into lorries… Penny paused for a moment. No, on the back of a horse and cart. Ain't no cars or trucks here. Trucked out to stores and restaurants… looks like those big doors there lead to a loading bay. Useful. Maybe eventually we could have a factory shop up front. Selling them direct… and what do we do about cold storage?

She put some of these thoughts to Joan, trying to sound confident. Joan smiled at her.

"You're thinking about it, m'dear. Good. Now the next step is recruiting good staff. Have you met Liona Keble, the job-broker? Good man at matching people to work. He can advise on pay rates and all the rest of it. Help us recruit. You know, it strikes me you'll need a golem. Has Johanna mentioned Miss Dearheart? You'll like her. Refreshingly straightforward."

Penny didn't know what a golem was and was diffident about asking. Still, if Joan thought she needed one, she'd find out soon enough.

Penny smiled to herself. She was still living at the University with Leonard and was accepted there. She'd made a point of smiling at the guys who did security and portering, the Bledlows. They seemed to like her being about the place. It helped. And while Leonard was learning the freaky wizarding stuff… well, no more freaky than the science stuff he did at Caltech, and related to it in some weird ways – she could focus on setting up a business. They wanted Leonard to sit an exam. If he passed it, he got another degree to go after his name. And a licence to practice. The big guy, Dumbledore – no, Ridcully – had said he fancied a bright guy like Leonard could just walk into the exam room, look at a paper he'd never seen before, and pass first time. Leonard was apparently a talent. It didn't surprise Penny. Even so, Leonard was currently face-down in wizarding books, reading and reading and reading. It fascinated him. He'd said it was like walking to the other side of a mirror, and discovering the D&D manuals were for real, and not just a game.

And the other guys were in that big freaky block on the other side of town. Making sense of it. Well, it was keeping them out of trouble. Penny was heartily glad she didn't have to live there. She tried to imagine the apartments at North los Robles doing similar freaky things and messing with peoples' heads. And shuddered.

"You could do me a favour, m'dear? I'd appreciate it if you covered a class or two for me at the School. I know you can do it. I've seen you. The gels like you well enough, and Jennifer's on hand if you feel you're out of your depth. I can get on with doing odd bits of jobs about this place, to help get you started. What with you still learning about living in this city. You need local help."

"Sure thing!" Penny said, brightly. She'd found an odd pleasure in teaching and demonstrating. Especially to those bright cheerful girls who'd got the idea quickly.

She quickly made arrangements with Joan.

"Good! They've been badgering me as to when you next take a class. It'll keep them happy and motivate them a bit!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna Smith-Rhodes realised she was now on the other side of the loop, seeing much the same sequence of events but from a different perspective. She sighed, and settled down to it. At least it would only be for a week or so and then things would revert to normal. Or what passed for normal. Or so she hoped.

She met with her alternative at several points. The script followed on more or less as it should. She already knew the lines, broadly speaking. In between she got on with her job as a Guild teacher, fielding puzzled looks and comments like Didn't I just see you in {{insert location}?, with the unspoken spill-question of How the Hells did you get here so quickly?

At least she was able to cash in not just one but two or three betting-slips. A few thousand dollars to pay into her accounts helped. Johanna wished she usually paid more attention to the back pages of the Times and the racing results. But it helped. She very carefully kept this from Ponder, who had taken time to come over to the Guild to see her, while her younger alternative self was getting on with the other things.

"So whet the hells do we do ebout this, Ponder?" she had asked.

He had grimaced.

"I do not wish to go around this loop for any longer than I have to." she had said, with firm intent. "Please explain how I return to a situation where there is only one of me."

"Errr…" Ponder had said, after a while.

Johanna sighed. This was not helping.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Life settled down over the next few days. The Caltech gang resident at Empirical Crescent began to methodically trace, identify and catalogue the relationships between various parts of the building interior. This necessarily took time and careful exploration.

Sheldon Cooper was to be seen bent over a laptop computer, occasionally conferring with HEX and the Bursar, working out a sound mathematical and quantum-physical logic for the observed evidence. He was engrossed. Sheldon was both happy and excited. Although when he remembered, he insisted HEX flew him back to California to use the bathroom.

Ruth N'Kweze, in Johanna's absence, was brought back to act as resident escort and guide to the gang. Whilst Howard, Raj and Sheldon were occupied in exploring the strange place where they lived, she took the opportunity to escort Amy, Bernadette and Lucy on trips round the City, including a long trip to the Zoo.

Leonard, meanwhile, was learning the theoretical side of being a wizard. This excited and enthralled him. A lot of it, to Leonard's mind, was just applying things he already knew from a lifetime of comic-reading, fantasy fiction, movie-going and role playing games. Only in a different context. One where it all worked. Apparently there'd be an exam at some point.

Penny found herself settling in at the factory on Short Street, tackling things like setting up an office and administration area, working closely with Joan on getting the Cheesecake Factory up and running. To her great surprise, she enjoyed this a lot, and discovered she was more than up to the challenge.

"So, er, where's Johanna?" she asked Joan, as they worked on plans. "I ain't seen her for a day or two."

Joan Sanderson-Reeves smiled slightly. She graciously ignored the "ain't", accepting she was dealing with an Acerian. You had to make allowances for foreigners. Can't be blamed for the way they speak Morporkian.

"We got a message from the University. Backed up by Vetinari, apparently. She's incommunicado and working on things of great importance to the State. Lord Vetinari has suggested the invoice for her services be directed to the University, as they're responsible for all this, and his interest is merely supervisory."

Joan paused.

"Apparently she'll be back in a few days. She'd better be. Lord Downey sent a polite message to Ridcully, asking how he should prepare and cost out the contract, for one Assassin being deployed for eight days. With a consequent need to reimburse the Guild for cover for her teaching duties. I should imagine young Ponder's getting a talking-to about that."

"Ouch." Penny said. She'd got the impression Ridcully wasn't keen on heavy expenses.

"Ouch, indeed. Funny. In the nicest possible way, there seemed to be a damn sight too much of her, last week. As if there were two of her. And suddenly, nothing."

Penny, who had met two Johannas in the same place at once, very carefully tried not to let anything show in her face. She still had the uneasy feeling Joan had worked it out. She was dealing with one shrewd old cookie here.

The older woman smiled slightly.

"Oh, dear. University contract. High-Energy Magic. Magical accident? There really were – or are -  two of Johanna? And the reason we aren't seeing her at the moment is that the Wizards are trying like damned hell to sort it out – before she inhumes somebody?"

Penny nodded.

"Ah-huh." She mumbled.

Joan shook her head and bent over the floor plan.

"Well, these things sort themselves out. Or tend to. If the damn Wizards don't end up mucking things up even more, that is. Now. Chilled cabinets just here, do you think? Young Ponder had some good ideas. Applied thaumatology. Apparently, those clever wizards at the Thaumatalogical Park are working on refrigerator spells. You know, to keep food cool. He was thinking of trialling a few prototypes here. I'm all for that, so long as the damn things work."

They carried on working. Penny accepted an offer to cover one of Joan's classes, just to keep them gainfully occupied for two hours. "Nothing too difficult, just teach them a couple of basic salads and starters. If you run into bother, Jennifer's on hand to help."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The week dragged on for Johanna. It felt interminable. She kept herself occupied with routine work, aware of Ponder's urgent pleas to her to sit it out for now and to try not to do anything that was even vaguely suggestive of Paradox. Again, she decided not to mention the betting slips or several thousand dollars that was accumulating in a desk drawer, waiting for an opportunity to get it banked. To her, this was a perfectly valid application of time-travel and a fringe benefit. To Ponder, it would have been a shocking interference with the linear flow of Time and Causality. Or something.

Johanna realised what day it was with a start. At about midday, she was going to arrive at Empirical Crescent with the Caltech gang. By about three, she would have passed through that bloody, bloody window and then passed a week or so into her past. By four, she would be walking in to this room. By four-twenty, she would also arrive on the Travelling engine with Penny. By her count, would that then make it three Johannas?

Her head ached. She felt there was a flaw in this logic somewhere.

Then she had it. The answer. Of course. Simple, logical. She just needed to get her alternate self, and for the two of them to be in the same place and, she suspected this was crucial, at the same time. Ponder wasn't around for her to run the idea past him. But she decided. Voetsaak on causality, and Paradox could go and naai itself. She wondered where to find her alternate self right at that moment. It needed both of them.

At the same time, Penny was doing another guest shift in the Domestic Science kitchen at the Assassins' Guild School. Joan wasn't there; she was taking time off to supervise installation of equipment at the Cheesecake Factory as discussed with Penny. Penny was happy to let this happen. Joan was a skilled professional with a very good idea of what was needed. She just needed somebody to cover her teaching duties for part of the morning. And word about the new supply teacher in DomSci had spread. Joan had got some sort of written permission for this – Penny gleaned she had status in the Assassins' Guild – and without too much fuss, Miss Penélope de Pasadène donned the purple-and-silver sash and got on with it.

Penny took a deep breath, and scanned the expectant faces. Twenty-eight girls and interestingly, two boys, age eleven-twelve. They looked like a keen and well-behaved bunch. One of the girls looked kind of familiar from somewhere, but Penny couldn't place her. She smiled and said

"Okay, guys. Miss Sanderson-Reeves can't make it today. She sends apologies, and she wants me to have a try-out as your teacher to see how I shape up. I'm gonna show you how to make a coupla basic salads, American… Acerian… style. I want us all to have a fun time, we'll learn something, and if everyone's cool about it, we'll learn something. Hell, so will I. I'll learn if I can cut it as a teacher, and you learn how to cut lettuces and tomatoes and bell peppers and junk. We all help each other along. That a deal? Let's get goin'!"

Penny knew from her previous exposure that it worked to keep things friendly, relaxed and informal. The girls responded well to this. Johanna had remarked that from their point of view, not having Joan Sanderson-Reeves in charge of the class was like a holiday, and she felt there wouldn't be too many problems. Johanna had mentioned a couple of likely problem areas and told her to be on guard for people who'd try it on in one way or another. Penny was going to have to assert herself at least once, she had said, and best she got it out of the way early so they knew that however informal it was, there would still be limits. Well, the more experienced teaching assistant, Jennifer something, was also present. She was doing prep work in a side kitchen, but on hand to assist where necessary.

Penny moved round the class, offering guidance and constructive criticism, keeping it relaxed, and getting onto first name terms with the class where possible.

It interested her that at least one of the pupils had a South African accent…. Hell, that's not right round here, what do they call it, Rimwards Howondalandian? She also noted this girl was disconcertingly good with knives. Jennifer had advised her to have a first-aid kit handy for those tricky moments, and had mentioned a school nurse called Matron Igorina who was on call for serious incidents, but this gal didn't need it. Nor did the friend she was sharing a work-bench with.

"Hey, you're gettin' the idea!" Penny said. "Let me show you something.."

Penny took a knife with a long thin blade and demonstrated how to van Dyck a tomato, so both halves came out looking like regularly serrated pieces that fitted neatly into each other, like pointed teeth. The girls watched attentively.

"Oh, ja. Van Dyck." the South African girl said. "En interesting name. Was he Kerrigian, miss?"

Penny figured out Kerrigian must be the local word for Dutch. Johanna had used it. It occurred to her this girl was red-haired too.

"Ah-huh. Guy was a chef in New York. He invented this cut. You don't have to do it this way, but it looks good on the plate. Stylish. And presentation matters. Wanna try one?"

Penny wasn't surprised that the red-haired South African girl focused intently, then took the knife and did a pretty perfect van Dyck cut first time out. Her dark-haired friend, who looked kinda Jewish, did an even better one. Hell, she had an air about her of the sort of girl who knew what knives were for, Or when the Assassins' Guild was done trainin' her, she'd definitely know all the uses you could put a knife to.

The tomato separated into two impeccably evenly serrated halves.

"That was satisfying." the Jewish-looking girl said. She looked down, thoughtfully, at the long narrow blade.

Penny tried not to be too intimidated by girls who weren't even teenage yet. Realising with unease she was in a room full of student Assassins with knives, she composed herself. It was probably frowned upon to stab your teacher. It occurred to Penny that this was a pretty good way of getting people familiar with knives and things with sharp edges. You know, teaching the elementary basics. For later.

'sides, I'm dressed in black. Johanna said it's a dress code. As far as they're concerned, I'm an Assassin.

She moved on. The next table had a sulky-looking girl at it who was barely working. Penny tried to jolly her into activity. She sensed trouble and a challenge to authority, and tensed herself for dealing with this.

"Come on, sweetie. Let's get with the program here!" Penny said, breezily. "You ain't properly started yet!"

The girl glared stonily at her. Penny frowned. She felt she was being regarded as if she were something unwholesome on the sole of the child's shoe.

"What's your name, sweetie?" Penny asked, trying to be informal and friendly. The girl scowled up at her.

"I am the Honourable Miss Pamela Eorle." the girl said, glaring from behind a well- sculpted nose. "Heiress to Lord and Lady Eorle. Who are you, exactly?"

Ah-huh. Trouble. Johanna warned me you get people like this. Nobility.

Penny glanced to one side. Yes, the South African girl was looking on with quiet interest. Probably seein' what way the new teacher's gonna jump? And that Jewish-lookin' girl is watchin' too. She got a look on her face. And a knife in her hand.

"You address me as The Honourable Miss Eorle." the girl said. "I trust that is clearly understood."

Penny took a deep breath.

"Is that so, hon?" she said. "Now, The Honorable Miss Y'all. You tell me what you don't like. Let's open a dialogue here."

Penny listened to the complaint. Why was she wasting her time here doing this lower-class thing when at home there were servants, cooks and so on, to do it for her, and after she graduated, she could employ servants to do the cooking for her?

"Ah-huh." Penny said. She glanced to her left. There was a slight thunnk noise. Without seeming to move very much, the long thin knife in the Jewish-looking girl's hand was now embedded point-first in the wooden chopping block, the blade and handle thrumming slightly. She was glaring, not at Penny but at The Honourable Miss Eorle, in a way that suggested trouble.

Gotta finish this, Penny thought. Before somebody gets shanked.

"So why are you tellin' me this and not, say, miss Sanderson-Reeves?" Penny asked, keeping it light. You are tryin' it on, you little bitch. Well, bring it on.

"I'm guessin' you wouldn't dare say this to Miss Sanderson-Reeves, right? Well, listen to me. Pamela. Pammie."

Penny watched the girl shudder with revulsion and a little supressed rage.

"Pammie. Sweetie. Look around you. Do you see any servants who'll cook and clean for you and clear up after you? In here? 'Cos I don't see none either. And let me tell you, hon. I don't give a flying monkey's fu… freak, if you're the Queen of England. If I had the Queen of England in this classroom, I'd be calling her Liz, and tellin' her she does the work, and she cleans up after herself. And because that lady's actually got class, I'm bettin' she would. You get with the program, sweetie. You do the work. And we'll get on just fine. You dig, Pamela? We ain't got much nobility or social class in my country, sweetie, and we don't go a bundle on it. I don't want to get all-American…Acerian… on your ass on first meetin', but get this, I will. Now chop that freakin' lettuce. Pronto."

There was giggling in the classroom. Penny noted the South African girl smiled slightly. Her Jewish-looking buddy pulled the knife out of the block, flicked it up in the air, caught it smoothly by the handle, and chopped decisively down into her lettuce, all the time looking meaningfully at Pamela Eorle. Uneasily, Penny was reminded of Johanna Smith-Rhodes demonstrating machete skills on a cabbage on a pole. That cabbage had become coleslaw, with one easy-looking chop.

Jennifer Matlow-Swizzell, the permanent teaching assistant, had come into the big classroom. She was watching, her arms folded.

"Miss Eorle." she said, in a low voice. "At the end of this lesson, you will be cleaning down the workbenches and sweeping the floor. Again. Just to remind you there are no servants here." She paused, and added: "Miss ben-Devorah. Knife-throwing is taught in other classes in this School. Not in this one. Kindly refrain from mis-using the equipment provided for these lessons. Thank you."

The Jewish-looking girl smiled slightly, accepted the rebuke, and lowered her eyes with seeming submission.

The rest of the lesson went just fine after that. The class had seen the pleasant and easy-going Miss Penélope de Pasadène challenged, rising to the challenge, and asserting authority. There were no more challenges. Variations on a theme of ranch salad and Caesar Salad were presented for assessment, with Jennifer moving round the room with a clip-board marking and taking notes for Miss Sanderson-Reeves' information later, and Penny moved on to demonstrating how to peel and segment oranges and grapefruit for Florida Salad. She also demonstrated how egg white and castor sugar could be used to give the serving glass a decorative edging. There were appreciative gasps and "aaah!" noises as the class saw how this made the rim of the glass look attractively sparkly. Even Jennifer looked appreciatively educated. Penny had the thrill of having conveyed something new, of real worth and interest. She realised how this could make educating people kinda addictive.

She also noted the Jewish-lookin' girl, who managed to combine a petite doll-like prettiness with a sort of intimidatingly business-like precision with sharp knives, immediately got how to use a sharp blade to peel and segment citrus fruit. First time out. Her whole manner was disconcertingly sharp, in fact.

"Watch her." Jennifer Swizzel-Matlow said, later. "Miss ben-Devorah and Miss Eorle have a history." She didn't elaborate. Penny got that some girls found it hard to make friends and influence people, and some other girls didn't have too much tolerance for idiots. Ah-huh. She'd seen the same in High School.

And towards the end of the lesson, Johanna Smith-Rhodes walked in. She nodded pleasantly at pupils she knew. These included the red-haired South African girl and her worrying friend.

"Got a moment, Miss de Pasadène?" Johanna asked. She nodded towards a side room.

"I'll keep an eye on the class." Jennifer offered.

Penny and Johanna went for a private chat.

"Going well?" Johanna asked.

Penny nodded.

"Ah-huh. Miss Eorle's been hard work."

Johanna patted her arm.

"Ag. Noble family. More highly bred than a hilltop bakery. She's en idiot. Bleddy trouble to teach. Hed to slep her down, did you?"

They grinned. Johanna knew her pupils.

"Listen. I need to talk to.. well, to have a few moments with myself. If you see whet I mean." Johanna said. "Got en idea where she might be?"

Penny understood.

"I'm guessin' she's at the university with Ponder and Leonard. Or else in Caltech." Penny suggested. "You could ask HEX?"

Johanna smiled.

"Thenk you." she said. "Listen. I've got to resolve this. Something heppens very soon. It's the event thet causes ell this to happen. I can't say too much ebout it. Peredox. Leonard's spoken to you ebout peredox?"

Penny nodded.

"Let's just say Sheldon does something. It dregs me in. End it means there are two of me."

"Ah-huh. Sheldon. Why am I not surprised?"

"Exectly." Johanna said. "End we heven't got long. I'm working on the suspicion thet this loop in time means thet there might be three of me in a few hours time. Or else. Two of me end up chasing each other eround this one loop, one a week behind the other, forever. I want to stop this. I now hev perhaps three hours. It occurs to me you will be present et Empirical Crescent. So you need to wrep up here, end we cen esk HEX how he wishes to proceed."

"Ah-huh. I'm up. Just got to finish things here." Penny said.

"I'll wait." Johanna said.

Penny concluded the class, thanked the pupils, and most of them packed up to leave, taking their finished work to a side-room where it was racked on shelves with named labels for assessment later. Two or three girls were detailed to spend ten minutes doing the dogsbody chores clearing down.

Penny, Johanna and Jennifer retired to a side room.

"You did really well." Jennifer said. "I can report to Joan you're a good find. She'll want to know. I can see why she'd like you to be an occasional supply teacher!"

"Gee, thanks." Penny said. She felt oddly pleased. She'd never have thought of herself as a schoolteacher, but she could see it was a distinct possibility for her on this planet.

There was a knock on the door. It turned out to be the red-haired South African girl. Penny studied her: about twelve, serious and intent looking, with what she now realised was a very familiar face and look.

Johanna smiled and said something in her native language, the one that sounded sorta Dutch. The girl replied in the same tongue. Afrikaans, Penny realised.

"Family business, I think." Jennifer said.

"Ja." Johanna said, in English. "Penny, I should introduce you. This is my sister. Mariella, Penny is a friend. I introduced her to people here, end it is possible she will be teaching here, part-time."

Her sister. Why am I not surprised…

"I should like thet." Mariella Smith-Rhodes said, scrutinising Penny. She had the feeling she was being sized up and assessed. That her strengths and weaknesses were being analysed, and recorded for possible attention later. It was disconcerting.

"Will we be going riding together on Seturday efternoon?" Mariella asked. Johanna nodded.

"Ja. I hev something to do this efternoon, but if ell goes well, I would like thet. Penny, you ride? Do you wish to come with us?"

"Horse-riding?" Penny said. "Hell, yes!" It was familiar, something else that would ground her into relative normality.

Johanna smiled.

"It is on, then, Enother good reason why this efternoon's business needs to be resolved quickly."

"I eppreciated your teaching, Miss de Pasadène." Mariella said. "I wish to thenk you."

"Apple for the teacher, huh?" Penny said. The self-composed Mariella smiled slightly.

"In this school, the teacher should elweys check the epple first." she said.

Penny had the feeling she was halfway to acceptance.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna did not find her alternate at the University. She sighed, and watched for a while in the background as her colleague Davinia Bellamy enthusiastically got to grips with the Voynich Manuscript.

Deciding this wasn't her problem, she excused herself and decided to make her own way over to Empirical. Maybe it could still work… she turned it over in her mind on the short cab ride. Ponder isn't there to ask. But I'm the Johanna who's a week behind the other. I'm seven days out of phase. My other self is in the right time. Therefore if I've guessed right, I will be restoring the timeline. Painlessly. I will not die. I will simply reappear in a different place where there is only one of me. Who will have odd memories of having been in two different places at the same apparent time and of having encountered a different version of herself.

She paid the cab driver.

"Dangerous place, this, miss. Rather you than me."

"Ja. Essuredly." she said. She sought to remember. We were in number Five. Sheldon and I traced the upstairs window on the top floor as looking out on the view from the ground. It could have been any of the ground floor windows on the… right… of number five. The view from the garden had a front door to the immediate left and a unique view of a partly overgrown crumbling ornamental fountain. With nymphs. Or naiads.

Johanna went searching in the grounds of Empirical. It was just a matter of doing everything in reverse. Having her other self here would have been good – if one minute there were two of her and the next only one, it would have confirmed her hunch. But she'd have to do it this way… she remembered her alternate was on the Roundworld and coming over on the Travelling Engine. Of course. Everybody was. HEX had insisted Leonard and Penny return to Caltech, so everybody in the group could pass within a minute or two of each other via the same common route. And start from the same datum point in time.

Including me, Johanna thought, triangulating what she remembered of the alignment of a window, a front door, and an ornamental fountain with naiads.

Looks like this was it, she thought, noting the window was hard to open from the outside. She thought of using slippall. But no, that would have created Paradox. The situation demanded that in a very near future – from this side of the window – she would have to add slippall while in the company of Sheldon Cooper. And then follow the verdammte catastrophe-magnet of a man out. And not return. Until now.

She dragged the protesting window up just far enough to allow one person to roll in. Behind her she heard the dopplering whoosh of the Travelling Engine arriving. Dogs distantly barked. It had to be now.

Rolling in over the sill, she had an odd momentary sensation of being lifted. It felt as if parts of her were at ground level and parts of her were four or five floors up depending on which side of the window they were on. She was glad her momentum was carrying her through. Just for in instant she sensed her legs were lagging a long way behind the instruction of her brain. She had an indefinable feeling that something was being added. Or subtracted. She wasn't sure which. It was distinctly unpleasant.

And then she was in an empty room, shaking and panting slightly. Nothing had apparently happened. There was a distinct lack of Travelling Engine outside. But she remembered to close the window. It closed shut with an easy lubricated gliding grace. She frowned.

If it's worked. If passing through this window in one direction took me a week into the past. Coming through it in the other direction should have taken me back. Therefore I'm now in the correct phase of Time again. And there will now no longer be two of me. It also wipes out any horrible possibility that there will be three of me. The bloody verdammte loop in Time is therefore closed. If I understand Ponder correctly it will have objective existence in a place of its own. But no longer here. I hope.

She paued. She had memories. Both of encountering a version of herself who was a week or so older. And then of encountering a version of herself who was a week or so younger. Clear, vivid, memories of having spent a week as each person. Had the two versions of herself fused in one? She hoped so. At least the confusion was just internal now.

She noticed a length of coloured string leading from the doorframe and down the corridor. This had not been there when she had left. She followed it. Eventually she found an attached note in Howard's handwriting:

Fourth floor room, top floor of Number Three, accessed from hallway of Number Five. Opens out on ground floor Number Two facing main road.

She followed the stairs down. Voices were conversing.

"Hey, Johanna! You're back!" Howard said, happy to see her.

"I said to smoke her a kipper. She'll be back for breakfast." agreed Raj. "What a girl!"

She looked around the operations room. It must have taken a while to set up. Laptop computers glowed. The Travelling Engine sat, dormant for now, in a corner.

"How long have I been gone?" she asked.

"A week. Ponder was pretty definite about that. He said he thought that was what was needed, to restore the balance." Howard said. "Hey, were there really two of you?"

"Ja." Johanna said. For a week."

She stopped and thought.

Damn. I was to have taken Mariella out riding. And how the hell to explain it to the Guild?

She wondered how to make it up to her sister. She'll understand. I hope.

++Welcome back, Johanna.++ Let me brief you on what happened in your temporary absence.++ said HEX. ++Firstly, the Guild accepted you were on Government business, which took precedence.++ Your lessons were covered by others.++Ruth and others tended to the dogs.++ Penny and Heidi van Kruger took Mariella out riding, incidentally.++Your sister quite likes Penny, you may be pleased to hear.++

"I'm gled. Fill me in, HEX." Johanna said. She paused, reflecting. "Oh, end I haven't had a cup of tea, for et least a week."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes Dump:

That place for non-linear discontinuities, things and concepts which will prove the essential truth of the Copenhagen Interpretation and which, in the manner of waves and particles projected through a slit, might impinge on either the past or the present of the tale or multiple alternate-universe versions thereof. Odd stray thoughts with no immediate relevance to the tale at hand, but which need to go down somewhere lest I forget.

Tvtropes again

Quoted in the Works page for Heinlein's "And He Built A Crooked House" (the root inspiration, in canon, for Empirical Crescent, and freely used here):

"Americans are considered crazy anywhere in the world. They will usually concede a basis for the accusation but point to California as the focus of the infection. Californians stoutly maintain that their bad reputation is derived solely from the acts of the inhabitants of Los Angeles County. Angelenos will, when pressed, admit the charge but explain hastily, 'It's Hollywood. It's not our fault, we didn't ask for it; Hollywood just grew.' The people in Hollywood don't care; they glory in it. If you are interested, they will drive you up Laurel Canyon 'where we keep the violent cases.' The Canyonites — the brown-legged women, the trunks-clad men constantly busy building and rebuilding their slap-happy unfinished houses — regard with faint contempt the dull creatures who live down in the flats, and treasure in their hearts the secret knowledge that they, and only they, know how to live."

Issues to sort out/glimpses into where my thoughts are going:

The two Johannas:

Johanna has been flipped back down her own timeline for about eight days (check) and has been "doubled up" for those eight days. Therefore in the time period following her vanishing at Empirical, she will be out of the action there for an equivalent length of time. A kind of Law of Conservation of Johannas applies – if for eight days there are two of her in one phase of time, there has to be an eight day period further along the line where she is taken out of the loop and not there at all. Ruth will take over nursemaid duties. There is also the lingering difficulty of there possibly being two sets of Ridgebacks for eight days – although Kaffee and Crème coped with interplanetary travel (they sort of laika'd that) and dogs are not existential creatures. I imagine they'll come to their own resolution.

A mechanism for the two Johannas resolving things and straightening out their timelines occurs to me. Dangerous edificeering is involved.

Rothman. Hmm. Ideas. The "switch" is described and resolved. Simple idea and clear in my head, but needs lots of resolution.

Bernadette's "socialization" to the Discworld: nice and simple. She meets Davinia Bellamy and they bond over apothecary stuff and husband-management. She will also meet a new friend who will help her into a Discworld makeover.

Amy to meet the Librarian. Call-back to Sheldon's bad dream, only with a different resolution. Amy also to meet Igorinas and Maccalariats. Her reactions to different species.

Will she also encounter Feegle and gnomes? THAT could be fun…

Howard. Ye gods, Howard. I see a visit to Big Dave's to check out comic-books on the disc. Alice Band is there having discovered that, without her knowledge or implied consent, she is being portrayed as a Stealth Archaeolologist of the initials LC. Howard meets Alice. Running gag: Howard serially meets some dangerously attractive Discworld women, but is somehow allowed to live afterwards. Refuge in audacity, or "I can't believe he said that!"…. he perhaps escapes alive in the moment of bemused consternation.

Sheldon to discover the Rail Ways. He is pissed off that unlike Leonard or Lucy, there is a very regrettable lack of induced superpowers on the Disc for him.

Raj meets UU's Professor of Astronomy and gets to see UU's observatory.

Penny. Establishing the Cheesecake Factory(AM) with help from Joan and Liona Keble. She gets to go horse-riding for recreation. Johanna (or a version of her) and one other go with her. More bonding with a younger friend.

Leonard. Gets another degree. Ridcully issues a pointy hat and staff.

Lucy. Is taken to meet people at Biers. This doesn't stress her as much as she fears. She even likes some of the people she meets and realises her condition isn't as odd as she fears. Compared to others she is, in fact, boringly ordinary.

Developing the Empirical Crescent concept – new Portal? How long would the logic dictate for even Sheldon Cooper to resolve this? What do the boys do for recreation while in AM – and what perils lurk if Johanna isn't there to supervise? (Ruth to take over…)

The Voynich Resolution – again clear in my head but might read like a cop-out. How to add bite to this…

Ponder's reaction to being in a room with two Johannas. His observations on the doubling-up of girlfriend. Helpful, unhelpful or both?

Ruth. More explorations of the USA as seen through the perspective of a proud black Discworlder. Does she need to dodge Barry Krupke's optimistic attention? She also has to nursemaid the Caltech crew in AM in Johanna's unavoidable absence.

Pick up the thread of Leslie Winkle's growing suspicion that the visiting academics are not all they seem? (Hmm. Leslie W on the Discworld, eventually?)

Heinlein Homages to work in:

"Teal lifted the blind a few inches. He saw nothing, and raised it a little more — still nothing. Slowly he raised it until the window was fully exposed. They gazed out at — nothing. Nothing, nothing at all. What color is nothing? Don't be silly! What shape is it? Shape is an attribute of something. It had neither depth nor form. It had not even blackness. It was nothing."

Albert Einstein quote: - in full context.

"Quantum mechanics is certainly imposing, but an inner voice tells me that it is not yet the real thing. The theory says a lot, but does not really bring us any closer to the secret of the 'old one'. I, at any rate, am convinced that He does not throw dice." note Technically, he didn't believe in randomness beyond the laws of physics and the boundary conditions of the universe. Those two things can still cause some pretty coincidental stuff to happen, just like pseudo-random number generators can cause coincidences in computer games.

From tvtropes:

Russians have absolutely no use for shot glasses. Vodka is commonly served "Sto gramm", which means "100 g" (which equals 0,1 l - that's a normal water-glass instead of a shot glass of 0,02 l), and a smallest standard drink is usually 0,05 l. But they're not going literal and will often serve you a 0,25 l glass filled to the top as well.

Fits the ethos of "Far Überwald"… and a place called "Sto Gram" would fit the vibe of the other Stos….

Chapter 38: The Insufficent Data Advisory

Wheeler-Bell Thirty-Eight

Wheeler-Bell 38: The Insufficient Data Advisory

Glimpses, pretty much random, of what happened during the Discworld week (eight days a week, as the Beatles memorably said) when Johanna was, quite literally, out of the loop and without too much fuss, a rather elastic reality re-adjusted itself around her.

EDIT: necessary tidying.

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork

"Welcome back." Ponder Stibbons said, with diffident sincerity. "I knew you'd be back and, well, after a few minutes' thought I guessed it'd be about a week. I still really missed you, though."

Johanna smiled and kissed him. She felt quite warmed.

"Well, I'd better bring you up to date on what's been happening…"

Ruth N'Kweze, who knew what was called for and who in this case didn't mind too much about expectations placed on the black woman to go and make a pot of tea for white people, went to sort out a brew.(1) Lucy went to assist. Johanna received the grateful and relieved welcomes of the others, hugs and greetings from Bernadette and Amy, the diffident relief of Howard and Raj at seeing her again. Sheldon Cooper, the man who had inadvertently sent her back in time for a Discworld week and precipitated a situation where there were suddenly two of her, spared her a brief nod of acknowledgement and returned to intent focus on his computer screen. She glanced over. What looked like an intricate and eye-watering three-dimensional model of Empirical Crescent was emerging on the screen, with inter-relationships between its rooms mapped out in various glowing colours. It looked like a combination of an architectural blueprint and a Brindisian meal designed by a chef who had catastrophically mixed up the mushrooms, and tasted the resultant passata. The image rotated dizzyingly, taking on new and disorientating dimensions. Sheldon did not look worried at all.

After a while the group sat down with what, for Johanna, was her first cup of tea in a week.

"So there is definitely, end definitively, now only one of me?" she asked.

Ponder nodded.

"If you still have a duplicate, she's keeping a low profile. The Guild School had to re-assign all your classes, for one thing. And Heidi stepped up at the Zoo to run things there."

Johanna relaxed. It was definitely done with, then. She remembered that giddy moment of confusion on scrambling back through the window, where something had happened and it had felt, for a second, as if several versions of herself had been put through a blender and stirred up. With, thankfully, a sort of Johanna Prime emerging, staggering around inside the room, until it all settled down. It was an experience Johanna later described as like a bad migraine combined with vertigo, Meuniere's Disease, and a sort of wholly unaccustomed sense of existential wooliness. (2)

She listened to various stories and accounts of the last week.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amy Farrah-Fowler had drawn the cellars of Number Five. She didn't mind that. She had no phobia concerning dark places and had no fears. It almost made her feel like Daphne… she stopped and reflected – well, like Velma Dinkley… fearlessly investigating a haunting in some stereotyped backwood of the USA. She wished Johanna's dogs were here. They were certainly Scooby-Doo sized.

Amy moved carefully down the stairs, paying out the green string she would follow to get back to the control centre. The operating plan they'd worked out with Howard was clear in her mind: take notes of dimensions of room and any side-doors or passages leading off. Don't investigate side-corridors or side-rooms yet. Just note type and location, move to any sub-floors and basements in an apparent direct line from what they had dubbed Mission Control, or the Command Centre. It was important to get the basic layout straight first. They could explore in detail later.

Amy took frequent photographs with her cellphone – at least the camera worked here, and the shots could be downloaded later. She wondered if it might be worthwhile to get some videocams when they sent a routine flight back to Caltech. Hand-held shots taken in a spooky, possibly haunted place with a bad rep, where weird things happened. It might make a sort of movie.

She passed and recorded another door leading off a landing. She frowned, reflecting that something about Empirical Crescent that would make it more complex in the normal run of things was that it was built into a gentle slope, running down towards a river. Thus the rear of the building was apparently a floor lower than the front. It apparently had four floors in back but five in front. That was normally explicable by the sloping ground it was built into, and not weird at all. And Ponder had said there was other stuff underneath, the foundations, ruins and cellars of an older city. There might well be other cellars under the official basement. Ankh-Morpork apparently went a long way down. Johanna had said there were real Dwarfs here. They really loved underground places. But you'd expect that.

She resisted the temptation to explore the side rooms. For now. Ponder had said when they really started doing that, they should go in pairs. And to be careful about opening windows, and certainly careful about climbing out of them. She hadn't seen it, but she'd heard a window at the University, in Penny's apartment there, somehow opened directly into Caltech. It had caused complications.

Amy moved on as the lights grew dimmer. She had a flashlight function on her phone, but was aware of the need to conserve battery power. It didn't worry her as her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom. She felt oddly excited and at home, in fact.

She paused and secured the string into the wall with another thumb-tack. Another flight of stairs led down. This was probably the basement…

She remembered the plan. Basements might have half-windows at a high level to admit some light. In normal architectural convention, they'd be at apparent ground-level outside. She was to attach a piece of brightly colored card to any external window where it could be seen from outside, saying "BASEMENT, NUMBER FIVE", so it could be identified from outside of the building and logged. Another part of the puzzle for Howard and Sheldon to factor in. Gathering experimental data in the field.

Well, we're all trained for that….

Then take dimensions of the basement room, length, height, width. Note any other doors or floor hatches. Other interesting features. Ponder had said there was an artist's studio somewhere in Empirical Crescent that hadn't been touched, or even found, since the artist had gone all Van Gogh. Apparently, the local Art Gallery would be really interested in it.

Howard had speculated about what long-lost paintings by a guy thought of as a Grand Master might be worth. Ponder had said, very quickly, that these would be University property by default. He had then considered and said "Well, I could probably organise a Finders' Fee. Treasure trove money. It would pay you for your stay here.."

Bernadette had frowned and asked exactly how this artist guy had gone nuts. Ponder had evasively said "Let's not go into that just yet…"

Apparently this Methodia Rascal had been a bit crazy to begin with, or he wouldn't have lived here. (3)

And now Amy was looking through a half-open door into the basement. This seemed to be as far down as the stairs went. Although she was sure she'd walked down at least three flights of stairs. And the Command Centre should be on the next floor up?

She shrugged, and went in.

A large basement room. The usual accretion of residence: crates, boxes, furniture sent here to die, a musty rolled carpet, a line of three high half-windows at just above head-height, admitting some reluctant light through grime and cobweb. Amy frowned. Best to clean some of the crud off, so the card would be visible. Yellow card, black highlighter script. Howard had suggested everything relating to Number Five be color-coded in yellow. To make it clearly identifiable. When they moved onto Six and Four which were apparently on either side, they'd use different colors. It made sense.

She looked around for things to stand on, and elected to drag a large sturdy but apparently empty crate over to the window. This occupied her for a few moments. As she stood up, she felt the hairs on the back of her legs prickle. She realised she wasn't alone in there.

Amy Farrah-Fowler sighed. This might be inconvenient. She stood in deep thought by the window, Behind her, as if on the verge of hearing, she heard a voice chuckling in the "Hur – hur – HURR!" manner that implies the owner of the chuckle has a defenceless woman exactly where he wants her. It was a low chuckle that was intended to frighten and intimidate.

Amy recognised this. She decided to let the situation develop and see where it went. She also reached into her bag and inobtrusively groped for the familiar shape of a spray-can of Mace. Women living in the Greater Los Angeles area have remedies available against possible irritations to the smooth unimpeded flow of their lives. Amy, in her heart of hearts, had been quietly wishing for an opportunity to use it for some time now. It was a sign that at least one guy found her attractive, for one thing. Validation, of sorts.

But something wasn't right here. She turned slowly and unhurriedly, and saw nothing. And the voice had sounded somewhat ethereal…

Amy considered her environment with a cool logical eye. There weren't too many places for somebody to hide in here. The stacks of crates were too low for a guy to hide behind and anyway they were too close to the walls. He'd have to be a small guy.

She considered prudence, backing towards the door and getting out into the corridor. A voice said I've got a cellphone. Could it still work locally, an internal message to a cellphone a floor or two up, to say there's trouble? Use it like a walkie-talkie?

She considered. The door to the basement had opened wide and was pushed back against the wall. But not so far back to the wall. A guy could hide behind it… Amy smiled slightly. Then lifted her foot and kicked the door. As hard as she could. There was an "ooof!" noise. Pain and surprise. She had a brief glimpse of a shape she couldn't quite identify. It looked human-shaped, but the proportions were wrong. It appeared to flow behind the door again. Amy considered, then kicked the door again. There was another yelp of pain and consternation.

"Why don't you come out?" she said. "Whoever you are."

She carefully moved to a position that would allow her to run back into the corridor. Just in case. But whoever was behind the door seemed in no hurry to reveal himself. She kicked the door for a third time.

"Aaargh! Will you stop doing that? Please?"

Amy considered. The can of Mace in one hand and a thumb-tip on the nozzle, she took her cellphone in the other and activated the flashlight.

Whoever it was screamed as if in pain.

Amy frowned. Shining a light into the face of a potential attacker in a dark place could be disconcerting, yes. She'd closed one eye, as she'd read somewhere, to preserve something of her dark-places vision. But what sounded like extreme physical pain?

"It sounds as if you can't come out from behind that door." she said, with clear logic. "So I can keep kicking it. To cause you discomfort. Or I could just reach over, and shine the flashlight right at you. And don't ask what a can of Mace does. You could find out."

"Please, miss! Not the light!"

Amy smiled.

"Now we've established who's got the upper hand." she said. "You could tell me who you are, what you're doing here, how you came to be here, and behave peaceably and in a non-threatening manner?"

There was a silence.

"Please, miss. I'm a bogeyman. Errr…"

Amy considered this.

"You mean a fabulous spirt of myth and legend who lives in dark places and emerges to, for instance, capitalise on the fear a young child might have, concerning things living under the bed, or in the dark shadows of a bedroom at night?"

"That's it, miss." said the bogeyman. "Dead right, except for the myth and legend part. Err…"

"And part of the power of the myth is that you cannot be seen and will not let yourself be seen. Except in the briefest possible glimpse that suggests a thing of great evil power and potency. Which reinforces the fear on the part of the subject, and allows their mind to build you into a far greater peril than you actually are."

Amy paused.

"So it's all bluff, basically. Suggestion."

"Err…" said the bogeyman. "Don't make me come out, miss. Please don't open my door. Err."

Amy smiled slightly and sat on a packing crate.

"This is very professionally interesting." she said. "In my profession as a neurological doctor specialising in the brain chemistry responsible for manifestations of the mind, I find it fascinating to actually meet an anthropomorphic personification of the deepest fears emerging from the hypothalamus and the amygdala, the reptilian hindbrain. Freud postulated these are created as manifestations of an externalised id, the lowest level of the mind. His colleague Jung went one stage further and said they are projections from the collective subconsciousness shared by all of humanity, which can take on a localised reality which is more than mere subjectivity. Evolutionary neurology suggests these are hangovers from an earlier epoch, ancestral memories of very real fears of night predators experienced by the first dawn humans and maybe by the creatures that preceded us. And are indeed coded in our very DNA. And in dark places and at times when the conscious higher mind shuts down, say in sleep, on the very liminal edges of sleep, the hypnagogic and hypnopompic states of consciousness, where we become more suggestive and a different brain chemistry applies, these primal fears may surface and take apparent form."

There was a bemused silence from behind the door. People tended to respond this way to Amy's explanations and speculations. She smiled again.

"But my advice from those who know this place better than I do is that there are many sentient intelligent races here, only one of which is human as I know it. I believe I have encountered a sentient non-human species. It would be very interesting indeed to study your brain and neuropathology. To dissect neural tissue and pathways and to examine them in detail."

There was silence. Then the voice from behind the door said

"Oh, shit. Pardon my Klatchian. I've clocked you now. You're an Igorina, aren't you? I mean. All that talk about extracting and dissecting my brain. That's Igor talk."

Amy realised she was dealing with a very frightened bogeyman indeed, who had discovered the terrible dark things lurking on the other side of his door. Which currently included Amy Farrah-Fowler.

Discovering the bogeyman, whose name was Schpilkes, was harmless and had only been driven by his own existential imperative to scare and frighten, she graciously permitted him to carry on squatting in the basement and to perform a useful job, with regard to keeping rats, mice and bugs under control. A casual mention of the name of Johanna Smith-Rhodes helped. The bogeyman screamed in fear. Apparently bad news travels fast on a specialised grapevine.

"She's here? The woman who won the Teatime Prize three years running?"

"I could bring her down here." Amy said. Discovering Johanna had a reputation for taking on supernatural entities in her profession of Assassin was useful information. And that the Assassins' Guild actually awarded a trophy for it. Amy reasoned this would enforce compliance.

"She's kind of in charge."

Amy finally left the basement, having, in a funny sort of way, made an ally. Or at least somebody who would not misbehave. She wondered about Igors and Igorinas. They sounded interesting. What do they know about neurology, she wondered. She decided to ask Ponder Stibbons and to see if he or Johanna could set up introductions. She also wondered about vectoring Howard or Raj down here. If they were to get annoying.

The City Zoo, Ankh-Morpork:

Ruth had suggested a day trip for those not engrossed with the mystery presented by Empirical Crescent. She suggested renting a cab and taking a long route through the City, pointing out things of interest on the way, that could be viewed from the safety and comfort of the inside of a vehicle. The Zoo was well on the other side of the City and offered the chance for a long ride. You know, just to orientate you and give you an idea.

Bernadette, Lucy and Amy had leapt at the chance.

Sheldon opted to remain, at least for now; Howard and Raj asked to join the girls. A horse-drawn taxicab was called for and there was a wait whilst Ruth went out to obtain one. Ruth felt Lucy would pass unremarked since as before, she was dressed in a manner suggesting a Licenced Thief. She felt Bernadette and Amy, casually dressed in Roundworld trousers and tops, might just pass, but aspects of their clothing would look strange. She suggested they wore cloaks over their street clothes, as these were ubiquitous Ankh-Morporkian garments and not out of the ordinary on a dull cold day. Raj, dressed in Young Fogey mode in jacket and waistcoat, looked a little odd. But "a little odd" was perfectly everyday for Ankh-Morpork.

There was a difficulty finding a cloak small enough for Bernadette that didn't drag on the ground as she walked. Ruth solved this by detouring the cab past the Assassins' Guild School, nipping in for a moment, and borrowing one belonging to a petite lower-school pupil who was in several of her classes.

"We'll have to fit in a clothes-buying trip." Ruth said. "Get you all looking the part."

There was general approval of this idea. They'd all seen Penny wearing local clothes and looking… wow. Ruth sighed inwardly and wondered if she could reclaim the cost as expenses. Or get Johanna to stump up. Wherever Johanna currently was. HEX had assured them she was in no danger. And Ponder Stibbons, a man finely attuned to danger, was completely relaxed about it too. He'd said he thought it was a case of the Universe noticing a problem, re-adjusting itself, and compensating. Err. Probably.

Bernadette liked the rich comfortable feel of the cloak. Thick, soft, well-lined, really good material in black. Out of interest she had noticed the owner's name on a tag in the collar. It read Rivka ben-Devorah Bechstein, Black Widow House.

Ruth smiled slightly.

"She was happy to help. I explained she was about the right height and build to help you out. But she still wanted rent on the loan. Cost me two dollars."

"Called Bechstein, huh?" Bernadette said.

"Formally." Ruth said. "But naming conventions are tricky. My full name goes something like Igama Sibongo {{Isithakazelo}} Ubuzwe Inkosazana umNtwana Umntanenkosi Ruth Sisiwayo N'Kweze. And that's just a short version. If you take the Isithakazelo part, that's a one-word shorthand for my family lineage, great deeds and accomplishments of my illustrious ancestors - and maybe even one or two of my own. And so on and so on. It runs on for about three pages when it's all written down.(4) So it got shortened to Miss Ruth N'Kweze for convenience. Same with Rivka. The Bechstein part gets dropped."(5)

Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz, no stranger to long names, nodded, understanding.

"Yeah, got it. Only the name sounds sorta Jewish. Funny how I keep getting' drawn to Jewish folk. I married one."

Ruth had a little understanding. She agreed.

"Cenotian, here. They've got an odd origin story. Their legend says they arrived here from a different world. They think they might have seriously annoyed their God, who wanted to make exile really emphatic."

Ruth paused and considered this. "There's a Cenotian temple on Gods Street. You know, Ponder said something odd about having had to go to a Jewish temple with Howard? Escorting his mother there? Ponder said he could have sworn he was among Cenotians… still, something else to think about. Who knows, maybe they really did come from Roundworld."

"Jews get everywhere." Bernadette said.

Then conversation died as, travelling out of the city, through suburbs where housing got more sporadic, there was a distant rumble over to the left and a screaming whistle accompanied by a low chugging. Everybody looked over to the left. To surprise and awe, they recognised an old-fashioned steam engine tugging old-fashioned passenger coaches. It was, even for Roundworlders, an unforgettable sight.

"Hey, you've got trains!" Raj said.

Ruth smiled.

"Line out to the Stos." she said. "All pretty new."

"Sheldon is going to love that!"

"We could take him on a trip on one." Ruth agreed. "Keep him occupied and out of trouble."

"Sheldon? Don't let him anywhere near the cab. He is capable of crashing one." Raj said.

Ruth heard all about Sheldon Cooper and trains. She agreed it would need close supervision. Still, it was good to be warned.

"We can take him to the railway station. He might appreciate a day trip to Sto Kerrig, perhaps, or something like that."

Long enough to keep him confined to a carriage for a few hours each way, where we can keep an eye on him, and allows enough time for a trip round DamnHamster or Sto Kerrig town, Ruth reflected. Boring uneventful places where nothing much happens. Clogs, tulips, cheese and windmills. Sto Kerrig. Anyone with any go about them upped and left for Howondaland a few centuries ago. She winced. Many White Howondalandians, like Johanna Smith-Rhodes and Heidi van Kruger, could trace their lineage back to emigrants from Sto Kerrig. It explained their language, a dialect form of Kerrigian. All those unwelcome economic migrants had caused her people, the Zulus, a lot of bother over the centuries.

They smelt the Zoo long before they got there. A lot of animals in a relatively close environment generate a lot of smells. The cabbie's horses started to get a little skittish.

"Nothing to worry about." Ruth reassured the others, as the carriage rocked slightly. "The horses are getting a whiff of predator on the air. They're not to know the lions and tigers and wolves and things are securely confined."

Then they started hearing the animals. It was kind of exciting. It brought back lots of childhood memories about visits to the zoo. An evocative noise.

Ruth paid for the party at the turnstile(6) and paid off the cabbie, taking care to keep the receipts. There was a moment of confusion when she realised she had to explain to most of her passengers what, or specifically who, Trolls were. This was eventually accepted. Drivers of horse-drawn cabs didn't like to hang around the Zoo for too long because of the way their horses got nervous concerning nearby lions and things, and in any case there was a line of people waiting for a cab out. Turnaround was usually quick.

And the afternoon passed pleasantly.

"Hey." Howard Wolowitz reflected. "This is a whole cageful of monkeys who are going at it like it was the Playboy Mansion. But there's one guy out here on his own who ain't getting none."

He indicated a woebegone looking bonobo who was being spurned by nearby females, and looked slyly at Raj.

"Any relation?"

"Errr…" Ruth said. She drew attention to a prominently displayed notice on the outer side of the bonobo chimpanzee enclosure. It read;

ADVISORY: THE CREATURES IN THIS HABITAT ARE APES. VISITORS ARE RESPECTFULLY ADVISED THAT NO OTHER WORD IS TO BE USED TO DESCRIBE THEM. USE OF ANY OTHER COLLECTIVE NOUN BEGINNING WITH "M" IS STRICTLY DISCOURAGED. ZOO MANAGEMENT WILL NOT BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY UNFORTUNATE CONSEQUENCES OF DISREGARDING THIS ADVISORY DISCLAIMER.

Indeed, as Raj scowled, several bonobos turned unfriendly eyes to Howard and began to chitter, breaking off from the principal recreation of the bonobo chimpanzee. Ruth stepped back, drawing Bernadette and Amy with her.

A second or two later, Howard spluttered as he received a faceful of impeccably aimed dung.

Ruth shook her head.

"Important lesson." she said, helping him clean up. "By the way, Howard. A little later on we get to see gorillas. Who are also apes. In this case, great apes."

"I believe I perceive the reasons why Johanna took pains to instruct me concerning apes." Amy remarked. "So we'll be seeing orang-utans here, too? They interest me."

Ruth took a short, pained, indrawing of breath.

"No, Amy. There are no orang-utans here. Strictly by order. You are likely to encounter one orang, but it won't be in the Zoo. Trust me."

The group met several interesting people in and about the Zoo. Ruth was able to discreetly explain about Dwarfs. Several parties of Dwarfs were in and about the premises, largely in the rodent house which they regarded as a sort of window-shopping for interesting dietary ideas. Raj and Howard enthused about seeing people straight out of Middle-earth; as frowning faces turned to them, Ruth had to do some on-the-fly diplomacy and explain that these people aren't from round here, they're from a place that doesn't have Dwarfs, much…

A spokes-Dwarf nodded, sagely.

"Oh, Acerians." he said, as if that explained much about the ambient weirdness. He nodded up to Howard and Raj, in a way that presented his chain-mail and axe for inspection, in a wholly unthreatening way. Ruth's Assassin-black and visible weapons were also a visible consideration.

Ruth breathed out.

She got the group away from Dwarfs they might visibly offend, and steered them round the large paddocks and fields on the outer rim of the Zoo that housed… deer. Among other things.

She understood; Lucy was watching things like muntjacks and roe deer with a deep intent fascination. She tensed herself. But no, no sign of the were-transformation. One of the deer did amble over to the fence and watched Lucy with a deep mutual fascination. For quite some time. Understanding, everyone else let her have some quality time. It could be family, after all. You never knew.

Eventually Lucy shook herself and said

"I guess all those odd dreams kind of make sense now. About running with deer and being one of them."

They moved on.

"We bring students out here." Ruth explained, noting a group of school-age pupils who were being assigned tasks. She exchanged greetings with several. "The Guild is a big owner here. We use the Zoo to teach. Somebody over here you should meet, Bernadette."

This detail of Guild School pupils appeared to have been assigned groundskeeping duties. It made sense; a Zoo isn't just about animals. A lot of landscaping happened, and the habitats of many animals needed to have the sort of flora and greenery the creatures could thrive in. This had to come from somewhere and needed human attention too.

The students were engaged in tasks ranging from trucking and planting new bedding plants, maintaining the ones already there, and in several cases the dogsbody chores of merely clearing litter. The instructor in charge of them was dressed in everyday working black and wore a slightly stained purple sash denoting her Teacher status. She was kneeling on a hassock and engaged in transplanting shrubs and plants into a verge.

She looked up, and smiled.

"Hello, Ruth. Covering for Johanna while she's off on a contract. And these are the visitors from, er, elsewhere?"

The woman, in her early forties, blonde and seemingly good-natured, smiled up from behind big round glasses. She looked utterly unthreatening and wore no obvious weapons except a tool-belt with trowels and dibblers on it. But everybody knew what black clothing meant. And, Lucy noted, the working edges on that trowel – and the fork - seemed kind of sharper than you might expect on the average gardener. And the various probes, spikes and dibbler things gleamed, too.

"Doctor Davinia Bellamy." Ruth said, making introductions. "Principal teacher in Botany, and all the useful things you can do with plants."

Introductions were made.

"Nice to meet you." Davinia Bellamy said, pleasantly. "Johanna briefed me. She thought I might find you interesting."

She looked appraisingly at Bernadette.

"You're the one who knows about pharmacopeia and apothecary things? That's an interest of mine too. You might like to come and see my labs and we can compare notes, perhaps? I was told what you managed to do for the Bursar, by the way. That was impressive. I have a feeling that what you call – thorazine, was it? It might relate to what we call dried frog pills. It would be interesting to compare notes."

She looked at Bernadette as if sizing her up, then at a passing Dwarf party, and back again.

"I've also got a few ideas about how you might blend in better here. Remind me to introduce you to Cheery. She's a sort of police officer, by the way. Helped arrest me a few years ago."

Leaving this baffling non seqiteur hanging in the air, Davinia suggested Bernadette at least dropped round for dinner sometime. It would get you away from that Empirical Crescent place, and we could talk pharmaceutics. By all means bring Howard.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coming next:

Bernadette's makeover. Maybe even Sheldon's exposure to the Rail Ways. You never know.

(1) This defined the relationship between Johanna and Ruth. Johanna came from a culture where black-skinned people were servants. Ruth was a proud Princess of her people who in normal circumstances would not respond positively to the expectation that her role in life was to make tea for white people. But Johanna considered that her former pupil and now graduate assistant should make the tea. Ruth conceded that she could make an exception for some white people. In these special and extraordinary circumstances where both were a long way away from Home, in a country with different social and cultural norms. Ruth made the tea. As between professional peers. For somebody she liked and respected. And not, let her make this abundantly clear, for any other reason that anyone looking in from outside might mistakenly read into it when they saw a Black Howondalandian making a brew for a White Howondalandian. "I do this of my own free will because I happen to work alongside and quite like the woman, OK?" She pointed to the fact that her year-mate and co-graduate Heidi van Kruger shared Johanna's ethnicity. And when called for, Heidi made the tea for Ruth. Approximately half the time. Ruth had also been on Roundworld long enough to become acquainted with fairly recent cultural perceptions of black women in the USA. Shown some really old Tom and Jerry cartoons by the boys – which she'd loved – she'd immediately assumed the black woman standing on a chair and shrieking when the cartoon mouse appeared was the housewife, the house-owner. Well, some people have a phobia about mice. She understood that. It was funny. She had been surprised when Howard and Leonard had shuffled in embarrassment at her assumption and said "Errr… not really, Ruth…" and reluctantly explained that, errr, America in the 1940's. Cultural perception. The only role a black actress could get in films and soforth was… err.. the Black Mammy. Errr…

(2). "Ah." Ponder said, later, with the sort of professional know-all-ness that made her want to slap him. She got this way sometimes. "Typical of temporally sundered multiple selves converging and fusing. So it is really all over, then."

(3) Refer to Thud!, by Terry Pratchett.

(4) And I know – for any Zulu readers – this is horribly oversimplifying it. Naming conventions for Princesses of the Paramount Royal House have something in common with vampires.

(5) As readers of other tales might have guessed, this pupil was simply Rivka ben-Devorah or, "Oh, ye Gods…" or "Oh Hell, I hope I've not annoyed her" to staff and contemporaries. Bad news travels fast. Ruth, like many other Guild educators, took care to look puzzled and say "I don't know what all the fuss is about. She's a perfectly nice girl and a really good pupil whenever I have to deal with her." Other teachers, the ones she didn't get on with, had different opinions.

(6) Another of Johanna's management inspirations here had been to organise things so that an incoming coach or carriage could draw up alongside a cash kiosk and either the driver, or else a passenger, could lean down or across to pay a clerk at the same level without needing to get out. On payment, a Zoo troll would salute, raise the barrier, and direct the coach to a parking space or a turnaround. Trolls made ideal car-park attendants. They had the right temperament and intelligence level.

Notes Dump:

That place for non-linear discontinuities, things and concepts which will prove the essential truth of the Copenhagen Interpretation and which, in the manner of waves and particles projected through a slit, might impinge on either the past or the present of the tale or multiple alternate-universe versions thereof. Odd stray thoughts with no immediate relevance to the tale at hand, but which need to go down somewhere lest I forget.

Lovely quote:

If it's green and wriggles, it's biology. If it bubbles and stinks, it's chemistry. If you don't understand a bloody word, it's physics.

(Fortean Times 353, May 2017)

Chapter 39: The Smith-Rhodes Nullification

Wheeler-Bell Thirty-Nine

Wheeler-Bell 39: The Smith-Rhodes Nullification

More glimpses from the week without Johanna. Other Assassins step in to help.

Unseen University.

Ponder Stibbons looked into the looming face of Mustrum Ridcully. He noted with a sense of unease that the Arch-Chancellor was not, on the face of it, angry. In fact, Ridcully was taking great and very obvious steps to appear reasonable and forebearing. This did not feel good at all.

Ridcully took time in speaking. He lifted the black-edged invoice for services. The black edging was a very telling statement in itself, advertising with discreet style exactly which City institution had requested prompt payment for services. With fifty per cent Guild tax.

"I've just had an interestin' social sherry with Donald Downey." Ridcully remarked. He paused to let this sink in.

"Donald is not an unreasonable chap. Very clubbable. A good man for a sherry. However, he was keen to point out that one of his key people is currently unavailable for her other duties, as her services have been retained by this University on unspecified tasks of City importance. He has suggested, after consultin' with the Patrician, that the University be charged a pro-diem rate for the services of a Licenced Assassin, paid for each full or part day for which she is otherwise unavailable. He also suggested we should give thought to the costs and the inconvenience involved in coverin' her specified duties as a teacher and educator."

Ridcully put the invoice down with great and exaggerated care.

"He makes that five thousand dollars thus far. Includin' a component for the services of Miss Ruth N'Kweze. Nice girl. Sensible. I quite like her. Asset. Good to have on the team. Since there is no formal inhumation contract involved and their services come under the headin' of security consultancy and bodyguardin', that makes it cheap."

Ridcully grinned genially at Ponder.

"Any ideas as to how we pay, lad? And who pays? No hurry. In yer own time."

14 Spa Lane, Nap Hill, Ankh-Morpork

Bernadette had to accept this was really quite enjoyable. The Bellamys were a really nice family. Nuclear, even: Mom, Dad and three really great guys of sons. It was nice to see how family life played out in this place, in the suburbs of this crazy-but-fascinating city. It was pretty like suburban life in Anywhere USA, really. The everyday life and aspirations of a typical family, with Mom an educator with a university doctorate, who also owned a business and raised three sons. Dad was a senior officer at the local penitentiary. The sons were all-round nice guys at various local schools.

"Everything alright, Howard?" Davinia Bellamy asked. "I understand you have special dietary needs. I asked around, and Cenotian cooking is as near as. And if one person at the tale has to eat kosher, everybody else might as well, which makes things easier."

Howard, who was intrigued by the whole Cenotian thing, assured her everything was just fine, ma'am. Davinia had explained the Assassins' School had several Cenotian pupils who needed special consideration. Apparently they ran classes on a Saturday morning for most pupils. It was necessary, so as to fit everything in. Cenotians were excused School attendance on a Saturday, for religious reasons. However, they were expected to fit in the missing lessons on a Sunday – hell, it has a different name here? - whilst the rest of the School celebrated its consensus day of religious observance. Howard wanted to check in at this Cenotian temple. Just to see. He wondered why it didn't surprise him that there were recognisable Jews, even on a different planet. Diaspora evidently went further out than people thought. (1)

He looked over at one of the other invited diners, with fascinated interest. She was evidently a she. Femininity emanated from her, in indefinite ways. Despite the armor. And the ax. And the beard. She was making friends with Bernie. The two appeared to be hitting it off. Uniquely, she was a few inches shorter than Bernie.

Bein' able to look down when you talk to somebody has gotta be new for Bernie, Howard thought.

"Davinia asked me along." the Dwarf said. "She was talking to Johanna. Just before she went missing. Undercover, I suppose. Working somewhere."

The undertone in the word "working" was one of Don't inquire. Assassin work. This was tacitly understood. By everybody. This included the Bellamy sons, one of whom was in the plain black school uniform of the Assassins' School. His younger brother was set to join him there.

The Dwarf was apparently a policewoman. Howard regarded the accepted uniform of local cops, or at least Dwarf officers. He had a feeling they'd conclude an arrest pretty decisively and decided to stay legal and give no offence. Apparently she'd gotten to know Doctor Bellamy while being part of the team that had arrested her.(2) Howard tried not to dwell on the sort of things Davinia had most likely been arrested for. Especially since she'd been given a sort of probation and the court had ordered her to Attend Classes. At the Assassins' Guild. Who had then employed her as a teacher at their High School.

He tried to see her as a nice, pleasant, working mom in early middle age with some likeable teenage sons. Hey, probably this world's version of a soccer mom. It fitted what he saw. He didn't want to dwell on the fact she wore black clothing and was an Assassin. And she could cook a good chicken. And had become friends with the arresting officers after her capture and trial. For, apparently, serial murder…

"I brought some things along." the Dwarf said, diffidently. "To help you fit in. Johanna suggested it. You know, to blend. She thought it would work for you."

"Hey, clothes, and stuff?" Bernadette asked. She could see the logic. Find somebody of pretty much the same height as her and see what might be loaned. Which was how she'd got a borrowed cloak. She wondered what Dwarf gals wore when they weren't in full battle armour. There'd been some interesting pictures in the graphic novels, visualisations of Dwarfs in their society. Not unappealing. It interested her.

"Clothing items. Certainly." Davinia said, breezily. "The clothing of your own planet doesn't entirely work here. We can have a try-on session later?"

She smiled, contentedly.

"I've got a small laboratory here." she said. "Well, more of a workroom, really. I get the run of the demonstration labs at the School, and Mr Mericet very graciously allows me to have permanent equipment set up there. He's the Head of Department, by the way, for alchemy and pharmaceutics. A lot of the things I do really interest him. I've also got some facilities available at my main shop. You know, for commercial preparations. I'd love it if you ran an eye over them. Professional input."

Bernadette noted how Peter Bellamy, an affable guy who'd probably seen it all and then some as a prison guard, winced slightly. Peter did not look like the sort of guy who got spooked easily. The three sons also looked respectfully at their mother. They also appeared to know what, very carefully, was not being said.

And later in the evening, Bernadette got a Discworld makeover. It wasn't what she'd expected. At all.

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork

The job of mapping out the place and charting the internal and external relationships of the building was advancing by the day. Ruth N'Kweze relaxed. Bodyguarding the Caltech crew was, so far, not being as difficult as she thought. They were occupied sorting out an ongoing problem that was well within their professional abilities and aptitudes. It was engaging their intellects and keeping them busy. And, she thought, looking down into the screen of the computer monitor, one hell of a map was coming together. She wondered if a blueprint like this had been inside the head of B.S. Johnson when he designed this place, or if it had just accidentally sort of emerged.

Sheldon Cooper was enthusing about polynomial n-dimensional space, whatever the Hells that was, and writing some eye-watering equations, occasionally assisted by the Bursar. Ruth noticed the meeting of very specialised minds that was going on here. HEX was monitoring and occasionally advising – he had confidentially advised Ruth ++Yes, I could work it out for them.++But in these circumstances it is advisable for me to stand back, and allow human intelligence to think the issues out for itself.++The experience Doctor Cooper gets here will be invaluable in work he does later in life, concerning the theoretical side of fast intergalactic travel.++It is therefore beneficial, and requires little active input from me++.

Ruth accepted this. She had also been introduced, by Amy, to the resident bogeyman, who was now incentivised to be helpful. Apparently, the bogeyman community in Ankh-Morpork had its own hierarchy, and the strongest and best got the plum haunting sites. This guy was pretty much the runt of the litter, and had got a beat no other bogey really wanted. Ruth accepted this too.

"Behave, and I'll buy you a drink in Biers, or something." she had said. Leaving the penalty for not behaving vaguely unspecified.

Ruth supervised gently, and wondered what they'd find when Ponder opened up some rooms and side-corridors he'd tested and risk-assessed, and said in as many words "Don't go down there. For now."

He wanted back-up for those. Assassins, and, crucially, other Wizards. Ones with specialised knowledge. Those places were blocked off with black-and-yellow hazard tape he'd borrowed from contacts in the City Watch. Which these days employed two Witches and a Wizard for professionally interesting hazards like this. The magic-users employed directly by the Watch had main jobs, operating on a more mundane non-magical level. But, with Sam Vimes having very reluctantly accepted that, like it or not, some Watch personnel had to be magic-literate, a special informal Department now existed – magical Watchmen to deal with and advise on magical crimes. It was known as the Folly, or under the codeword of Falcon. (3) Ruth suspected she'd be seeing at least one Falcon, or Code Twenty-Three, trained officer very soon.

Ruth was happy to leave possibly magical – or perhaps scientific – hazards to the professionals. There was currently no shortage of appropriately skilled consultants out there.

The Assassins' Guild, Ankh-Morpork

Following her week of enforced absence – well, not really absence. She'd been there all along, only doubled up, during the previous week – Johanna returned to her rooms at the Guild. Ponder had assured her that not every piece of physical evidence of her adventure in Time would have been erased on a return to normality. She'd have memories of seeing things from both sides of the loop, the same person seeing the same week from two different perspectives. That was true enough.

Apparently not every piece of physical evidence would have been erased or ceased to be. Not even History Monks could manage that. And on one level, there had to be evidence left. Nobody knew why that was so, and Ponder wondered if it was down to some sort of Cosmic Joker. Errr.

Methodically, Johanna made a cup of rooibos tea. She fed her dogs. Only then did she go to the desk drawer and open it.

Yes. The money she'd won by betting on those horses was still there. She smiled, feeling she'd got something out of the experience of being sent back a week in time with imperfect knowledge of events to come, such as the winners of horse races at odds of thirty-three to one. She had beaten the system. Whatever the system was, and however it operated. It was a warming thought.

She looked down at perhaps seven thousand dollars, making a note to pay it into the bank as soon as.

And then she got the message that Lord Downey would welcome a chat. She sighed, and finished her tea.

14 Spa Lane, Nap Hill, Ankh-Morpork

Bernadette assessed herself in the full-length mirror. It was like cosplay, she told herself. Only cosplay and Renfair costumes are regular clothes here.

The chain-mail had felt forbiddingly heavy in her outstretched arms. Actually on her body, it didn't feel all that heavy at all. And it was attractively gilded and polished. The helmet was surprisingly comfortable, padded inside with quilted linen and leather. And the way Cheery Littlebottom had braided her hair looked real nice. The ax was interesting. A real weapon with a live blade. It would need care. Cheery was gonna give her lessons. The Way Of The Ax. Apparently there was a name for it in Dwarfish language. Which she'd have to learn at least some of. But hell, she was learnin' Hebrew. And Yiddish.

The one thing she was going to really have to get used to was the beard.

It was a fake one, glued on skilfully with gum. And it was a sort of long goatee, fixed to the point of her chin, leaving the sides of her jaw bare. Cheery had insisted. All Dwarfs had beards. Including Dwarf gals. She'd stand out if she didn't. The style was apparently called Paraquatian. Apparently it was a big thing among lady Dwarfs. Guy Dwarfs loved it. It was thought to be sexy. Intimate bodily hair, well-groomed. Yeah. Erogenous zone. Right.

"You're going to be what we call a d'harak-zhadrahka." Cheery had said. "That should cover any strangenesses. It means human who sincerely wants to discover the truth of being Dwarfish. Doesn't happen often. But sometimes people from outside sincerely want to become Dwarfish. Sometimes for not-religious reasons, sometimes a human who wants to marry a Dwarf. There's a long process of learning and testing. We accept that."

"Ah-huh." Bernadette said. The Rabbi of Howard's temple had tactfully raised the advisability of her converting, as she'd chosen to marry in. So that as a Jewish woman by conversion, her children would fully count as part of the people. She was taking some of the courses. As and when. This was pretty similar. Familiar ground, almost.

"And of course, on first glance you'll pass for a tall Dwarf." Davinia said. "Which is good. And the axe helps. People don't take liberties with Dwarfs carrying axes."

Bernadette had never been a tall anything. The thought cheered her up. She wondered how Howard was likely to respond to this. Especially to a bearded wife. And the other guys. She winced. But, she realised, she kinda liked the gear. And Cheery and Davinia were fixin' her up with lessons in Axecraft. How to talk the talk and walk the walk.

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork

"I'd better set you up with some familiarisation." the blonde police officer said. "It's one of my duties, after all. To ensure any new werepeople in ankh-Morpork know how things operate and what's expected of them, socially and legally."

Angua accepted a cup of tea and appraised the Visitors. She'd had informal briefings concerning the Roundworlders. Vetinari was keen for her to evaluate Lucy from an, ah, professional viewpoint. He had reminded her that one of her roles was to be the Community Liaison Officer with the various werespecies in the city, to be aware of them as they arrived, and to forestall any possible misunderstandings and regrettable situations that might arise. Angua knew that after the wereleopards, this was necessary. (4) At least were-bats were outside her remit. This only happened to one very specific species. Sally von Humpedinck dealt with those. Angua was happy to let her vampire colleague look after that side of things.

Mr Vimes had said "I think they're all harmless. But you never know. You've drawn deer-herding, by the way. Just make sure she doesn't end up as venison. The rest are a Roundworld version of Wizards, and you know what they're like. If you can step in if they ever look like blowing up the fabric of space and time, please do. Apparently one bugger's got the same enhanced sense of self-preservation and caution as Dean Henry. He's already pissed off Vetinari, by all accounts. According to Johanna, he screwed up the workings of that HEX machine and took it on a joyride across Space and Time. Which took some fixing."

Angua looked over at Sheldon Cooper. Who was odd, admittedly, but seemed harmless enough. She noted that he was on a wavelength with the Bursar. A meeting of minds was going on. That spoke volumes. Just keep him away from dangerous machinery….

She smiled pleasantly at Lucy. In an odd sort of way, she liked the girl. And not just as a potential snack. She hoped. Resident weres had to get along and transcend old instincts. It was, to her, a kind of Black Ribbon thing. Just because werewolves had sought to genocidally destroy all other weres on the Disc in the long-ago past didn't mean they should think like that now. Quite the reverse, in fact. It was as near as Angua came to wearing her version of the Black Ribbon. That and the vegetarianism her human form fastidiously observed.

"You aren't alone." Angua said. "Nor am I. We meet. We try to get along. We make allowances. Let me run down the list for you? I'm a werewolf. There are a lot of us. We're probably the most common were on the Disc. We have our own loose – nation, I suppose – out in Überwald."

She tried to smile unthreateningly.

"There are were-bears out towards the Hub. The Hubland nations have them. Mainly in places like Hubsvensska and Swommi and beyond those, Nothingfjord. Where you get Hubwards Aceria, you get white werebears. From the Innuendo people. There are travellers' tales of werecougars and shapeshifters further out in Aceria. You might meet Bjorn. He's OK, but don't push his Berserker buttons. Really don't."

She smiled at an attentive audience.

"On the other side of the Disc, in Agatea, there are fox-kami. Werefoxes. There are a few in town. I had to arrest one who was operating as an unlicenced Thief, by the way. It's one of their things. Tricky people. And there are also a sort of werebadger. And in Howondaland you get were-leopards. We had a few problems when they came to town. But the ones who were left, after Johanna and I dealt with them, soon got the idea about being good citizens. I can introduce you to them. By the way, they will know were-deer are off limits. Part of the Code we informally work to."

Angua ticked another species off her list.

"Out on the coast of Llamedos and Hergen you get selkies. Were-seals. None of them have come to the city, yet. They like clean seawater. Peaceable and harmless. There is talk of things like were-otters and were-owls inland in Llamedos and the general area. I haven't seen one yet. Apparently the were-owl is not to be trusted. They're all female, apparently, and have a banshee streak.(5) Wonder how they reproduce?"

"Parthogenesis." Amy Farrah-Fowler said, unhesitatingly. And with some satisfaction. "Known as high up the evolutionary scale as some higher reptiles. A species composed entirely of females who have no need for males, and can reproduce with no need for male genes."

Angua regarded Amy. And decided to take her along to Biers with Lucy for a social drink. It might be interesting.

"Most weres are humans who transform into mammals. But Ghat has the Naga. Were-serpents."

Angua winced slightly.

"One or two of those in this city."

Raj bounded with excitement.

"There are Naga here?" he said. "Real Naga?"

Angua assessed him. Apparently from Roundworld's reflection of Ghat. She'd have to find out more about that. She explained to Raj what was known about the Naga and stressed they were to be treated with caution. He responded with accounts from Hindu myth and legend. Angua wondered if some of the things that were new to her would apply to were-snakes on this world. Useful knowledge.

"Apparently there are were-sharks in some of the tropical islands, and off the coast of Howondaland." Angua concluded. "But I've not met any yet. Shape-shifting people, presumed marsupial weres, in Fourecks. There's a rumour there's one at their High Commission. Oh… and there are were-ducks. From Überwald. And that's about it."

"Were-ducks?" Howard asked.

"Were-ducks." Angua confirmed. Something in the set of her face said she didn't want to talk about it very much, as if it were embarrassing. Lucy felt happier that there appeared to be an even more absurdly ridiculous and ineffectual were out there, than her own were-deer form. It made her feel better.

"Anyway." Angua said to Lucy. "My brief is to keep you out of bother and look after you. I suggest I take you out for a drink in the sort of bar where everybody knows your shape. Err… not everybody is welcome in there but if she's seen to be with me, they can make allowances for a normally human friend. Amy? I think you'd appreciate the experience?"

Angua didn't add that Amy Farrah-Fowler would probably pass without undue comment in a bar like Biers. Besides, she looks Igorina. Or Anirogi. She'll fit right in.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ponder Stibbons came over one evening accompanied by Penny and Leonard. The guys were happy to see them, and Leonard's newly-issued wizarding robes and the plain pointy hat of a senior student attracted lots of comment.

"Not got the magic wand yet?" Howard inquired. "How's life at Hogwarts?"

Leonard sighed.

"Round here, it's a staff." he replied. "You don't get one till you graduate. Mr Ridcully wants me to sit the basic exams. He says I get a staff when I graduate."

"Big, heavy, awkward to lug around, and useless when it runs out of magic." Ponder said, with experience. His staff usually just stood propped up in a disregarded corner of his rooms.

"So which House did the Sorting Hat assign you to?" Sheldon asked, excited. "Please say it's Gryffindor and not Slytherin!"

Ponder tried to relate the concepts. He shook his head.

Howard regarded Leonard with a mixture of amused disdain and ill-disguised envy. Ponder had rated he and Raj as having nothing more than very minor induced magic from the Disc's standing wave and magical field. No more than any other average human citizen of Discworld. But here, Leonard Hofstadter had it in bucketloads. A whole shitload of magic, as Howard phrased it. He said, with sly disdain:

"Leonard? Not evil enough for Slytherin. And hey, Gryffindor is for guys who are brave and tough and resolute. Not Leonard's thing."

"Could be Ravenclaw." Raj said, scrutinising him. "But most likely Hufflepuff. Yeah, that fits. Leonard's in Hufflepuff."

"Errr.." Ponder Stibbons said. In Unseen University terms, Ponder was sponsoring Leonard to enter his own Order, the Illuminated Brethren of Midnight.6(6) He'd explained to Leonard that he could see it in American terms as like being initiated into a frat. Leonard had liked the name, but had asked, uneasily, what the hazing and initiation rituals were like. He'd cited a few unedifying and humiliating American college examples. Ponder had shaken his head and said "Well, you get forced to eat an eight-course dinner and buy a round of drinks, but that's as bad as it gets."

"Knock it off, guys." Penny said. "Hey, I brought cheesecake!"

They sent out for a takeaway to go with it, and Penny explained about how the Cheesecake Factory was getting on. They were at the stage now where they'd fired up the ovens, or one of them, and the nucleus of trained staff she was employing were helping set up a production line and had got to the point where they'd set up a trial bake. Just to see where the problems might be.

"Got a sample. One of the first cheesecakes baked on a new world. Take me to your cake-shop!"

They ate BhangBhangducian takeaway food, with cheesecake to follow. Ponder was pleasantly amazed that the guys had assimilated so well to Ankh-Morpork, to the extent of unerringly locating its equivalents of Italian, Chinese, Thai and Indian take-out food. Apparently Ruth had got them a directory of fast-food joints within easy reach and worked out which were prepared to deliver to Empirical Crescent. The guys had done the rest themselves.

"So somewhere in this apartment block, there's a hidden artist's studio. Left pretty much as it was when the guy did his van Gogh, and went nucking futjob." Penny summarised.

Ponder nodded.

"You can imagine the people at the Royal Art Gallery would be seriously interested in that." He said. "My bet is that there could well be undiscovered paintings by Methodia Rascal in there. Even unfinished works would be worth hundreds of thousands. Maybe more. And even if there aren't many of them, and it's just his studio. The historical interest."

Ponder didn't add that this would get him out of a jam with Ridcully, who'd very strongly hinted he, Ponder Stibbons, now had an Assassins' Guild invoice for services to pay, and had better bloody well find anything up to ten thousand dollars from somewhere, lad. Ponder suspected that a hundred thousand dollars' worth of Rascal original art might put him back in credit again. And then some.

"Ah-huh." Howard said, thoughtfully. "You were talking about a finders' fee?"

Ponder nodded.

"Ten per cent, possibly. Which should set you all up with money to live on while you're here. Useful money, split eight ways."

It was a good incentive for everybody. They decided to get onto it. Even though Sheldon objected to being sidetracked by anything to do with the Inhumanities, especially something as trivial as paintings, while there was exciting and important scientific work to do.

"It's dollars, Sheldon." Penny said, with forced patience. "People live on those. I don't know if you've noticed, moonpie, but everybody here needs to eat! And one dollar here is worth a hundred at home, more or less. Say we get ten thousand of their dollars. A million bucks, Sheldon. If all it needs to get that is to look around for an old painting, then I'm suddenly gettin' interested in art, see what I'm sayin'?"

The Assassins' Guild, Ankh-Morpork

"I see." Lord Downey said, assimilating the information Johanna was giving him. He poured another sherry and graciously overlooked the politely declined almond slice. Every Assassin knew what it meant to be shown the cake-stand in the Master's office.

"I accept this is work of great scientific importance and should be assigned priority. Not to mention the ethical and moral dimension of assisting the people of an entire planet to save their world. I myself have been here before with the Roundworld project, and assisted in saving it."(7)

He sighed, regretfully.

"But this has incurred inconvenience to the Guild, Johanna. Your unavoidable and somewhat abrupt absence. Necessitating last-minute teaching cover both for yourself and Miss N'Kweze. All very irregular. A formal invoice for services has been raised and delivered to the university. I know Mustrum Ridcully and am very certain he will raise objections to paying it. He is at the moment suggesting that as the Palace ultimately assigned you to this duty, they should pay. The Palace is in its turn pointing out that the University precipitated this situation and that they, the Palace, stepped in with great reluctance to rescue the situation. Therefore in their opinion the University should pay. Whilst the invoice bounces back and forth as the major players deny responsibility for liability, the fact remains that the Guild requires payment."

He frowned at Johanna.

"In the circumstances, Doctor Smith-Rhodes, as you are intimately involved in this somewhat unsatisfactory situation, I may require you to personally make up the shortfall in Guild finances. This is only fair."

Johanna, aware she was being reprimanded, sighed deeply. So much for the six or seven thousand she'd won on trans-temporal horse races, then. Ponder had said that the Universe would, without any fuss or bother, quietly readjust itself and tidy up any anomalies. It looked as if this was the Universe's way of clearing up the anomaly of the money she'd won and resolving that particular paradox. Silly to think otherwise, really.

"Yes, sir." she said, meekly. It was all she could do.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Thoughts – unformed – about pushing this idea to its illogical conclusion. What if Mossad realises the first humans from Earth to colonise a different planet were in fact the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel, and the Earth state called Israel makes contact with Discworld on their behalf, claiming an interest… might get contentious, though, and un-necessarily divisive in terms of current geopolitics on Earth, with firmly held opinions on both sides of an issue. So I may avoid this completely. But…. Vetinari deals with Benjamin Netanhayu. A delicious thought…

(2) See my story Murder Most 'Orrible, which is in the recent past of this tale, chronologically speaking. We're maybe a year to eighteen months further along. Davinia Bellamy is at this point fully Licenced and a teacher at the Guild School.

(3) A great thank – you to reader rga156 who alerted me to a fantasy-black-comedy series of which I had hitherto been unaware, Ben Aaraonovich's Rivers of London series. (Renamed the Midnight Riot series in the USA). I have been speed-reading these books and thoroughly enjoying them. The premise is simple. In modern London, a city with 2,000 years of continuous existence and a lot of history and folklore, the Metropolitan Police very reluctantly accepts magic is still there in the world. It doesn't like it and would rather not deal with it. But where magical or Fortean crimes happen – you need magical and Fortean-minded police officers to deal with things. And to do "community outreach" into the "differently sentient" ethnic communities in London. And, by extension, an advisory role to other police forces around Britain. Enter maverick police constable Peter Grant, who thinks differently. Who becomes the Met's first trainee Wizard for fifty years. One book in the series is dedicated to Terry Pratchett. As it involves unicorns, elf-like entities and changelings in the countryside, it isn't hard to see why. As The Folly is a barely-tolerated embarrassment in the Metropolitan Police with senior officers who'd rather not have it at all, I felt there had to be a City Watch version…

(4) go to my tale Whys and Weres, concerning the new arrivals from Howondaland and the trouble they caused. Angua and Johanna had gone big-game hunting for leopards.

(5) the Welsh legend of Blodeuwedd, a woman formed from flowers who is later transformed into a hunting owl for her general heartless and faithless disposition and doomed to haunting the night.

(6) In the new order at UU when the eight Orders were diminished in power, prestige and importance after the events of Sourcery and the advent of Mustrum Ridcully, Ponder Stibbons ahd discovered he was pretty much Head of the Order by default. Nobody else wanted it. It also attracted another of those stipends and bequests that bulked out his wage packet every month. Apart from this it had few privileges these days and Ponder had discovered he could delegate such residual social functions as there were to other people. The Illuminated Order of Midnight tended to meet informally in the pub, anyway.

(7) to my novella Doppelgangers. In which Downey and others advise in how to inhume, or at least temporarily remove, The Four Motorcycle Riders Of The Apocalypse. In a manner worthy of the Teatime Prize.

Notes Dump:

That place for non-linear discontinuities, things and concepts which will prove the essential truth of the Copenhagen Interpretation and which, in the manner of waves and particles projected through a slit, might impinge on either the past or the present of the tale or multiple alternate-universe versions thereof. Odd stray thoughts with no immediate relevance to the tale at hand, but which need to go down somewhere lest I forget.

Lovely quote:

There is an entire article in the current FT about the place of the werewolf in Jewish culture and religious thought. Apparently Yiddish communities in Europe picked up the werewolf meme from the Gentiles all around them and incorporated it. Eminent rabbis wrote treatises concerning how lycanthropy could be squared with Judaism, and the place of the werewolf in G-d's creation.

Thirteenth century Rabbis actually created a valid exegesis from the Bible to prove werewolves existed and were part of divine creation – and even contemplated what the process of change would look like, as a human form translated into an animal one. In depth. Yes, people actually did contemplate what Angua would have looked like in the in-between state, neither wolf nor woman. And wrote about it. In detail. I won't spoil the game but these Rabbis put an entirely logical spin on Genesis 49:27 (which is generally interpreted differently, in both Judaism and Christianity). Look it up. And you can extrapolate from that, that the Tribe of Benjamin – already marked with the suspicious and viewed-as-Satanic trait of being left-handed – needed a sort of "ethnic cleansing" by the rest of Israel for hidden, more esoteric, reasons. The war between Israel and its errant tribe is recounted later in Scripture. (Judges 20, in which the tribe of Benjamin is almost completely and deliberately expunged from the face of the earth for its specified and unspecified sins, in a sort of harbinger of genocides to come.) A remnant of 600 men is allowed to live, as there must be twelve tribes still, but are found wives from other tribes of Israel. This could be read - in a different and heterodox context - as deliberately wiping out the werewolf gene or making absolutely sure it is so diluted as to never be a threat to Israel again, which leads to further wild speculation - in diaspora, did the exiled Jews inadvertently bring the werewolf gene to Europe with them? Interestingly, St Paul boasts of being of the lineage of Benjamin - and elsewhere in the NT Letters, he bemoans an unspecified physical ailment that causes him grief in his relationship with the Lord...

These thirteenth century Rabbis also pointed to the serpent being physically transformed by G-d as punishment for the Eden business. And asked the obvious questions in this context. When a creature with limbs undergoes a physical transformation into a different state. What is the exact process? What would be seen? And could this curse of God have transmitted itself into humanity, so that some humans carry the transformation curse? Satan as a were-snake... After all, Scripture tells us the Sons of God – who by definition include fallen angels – mated with the daughters of Man and left their seed among us as the Nephilim.

Reading a Biblical justification for lycanthropy makes me feel a happier man. The first Church of Christ Werecreature? (And Jesus is often depicted as a lamb… a weresheep.)

Also – the South American werecreature called the Lobizón. (¿Does it take "el" or "la"?) This is part dog and part pig – ¿a wereboarwolf? - and local legend says the seventh son of a seventh son will inevitably become one, unless a priest or wise man becomes the godfather.

Hmm. A Paraquatian character called, perhaps. Juan-Carlos Miguel Lobizon, who adds one more were to the ethnic mix in Ankh-Morpork…

(Fortean Times 353, May 2017)

A general note. As my understanding of Dutch and Afrikaans improves. I can see the humour of this.

In Holland and possibly Flanders, "een poes" is, merely, an affectionate word for a female cat. In the sense of "Here, kitty!" or "Puss, puss, puss!" You can see – in one or maybe two bounds – where the English word "pussy" comes from.

And here lies the mutual comprehension problem.

In South Africa, the word "poes" is also used to mean "pussy". In the American interpretation of the word. Hmm. Harlem, New Amsterdam, Pennsylvania Dutch, and all that. Dutch influence on American English…

Misunderstandings have happened.

In the Discworld, I see a Sto Kerrigian visitor to the Smith-Rhodes family house, where Vondalaans is spoken, seeking to make friends with the cats Pyn and Smart by cooing "Poes, poes, poes!" at them. Cue appalled looks from, say, Aunt Friejda, as the innocent Kerrigian continues to woo the cats by repeatedly using what in Howondaland is the ultimate four-letter naughty. In Afrikaans, the appropriate word for the situation might be "katjie", perhaps. Definitely not "poes."

Extract from a PM correspondence with reader Mr War, who asked about my ideas for TBBT crossovers. Worth putting here for feedback:

Crossovers - now you're asking! The list on FF says there are at the moment 359 TBBT crossovers, in a bewildering variety of settings. I'll have to explore a few, but it's interesting they're so widely scattered with most of the categories only having one or two or at most three examples. As you might expect, Dr Who and Harry Potter come out on top, but even Dr Who has only 23 examples. I'm really surprised the various Star Trek franchises barely have a dozen - this would be natural turf. By a series of horrible accidents, Sheldon Cooper ends up in the Captain's Chair, or Howard creates a plumbing and waste disposal disaster on board the Enterprise ("We're going to have to abort the five-year mission, Captain, as it's no longer possible to go, however bold you are...") Captain Kirk gets enamoured of Penny; Amy is mistaken for a Vulcan... Raj commiserates with Chekov and Sulu about being the token ethnic minority… (idea for cosplay in THIS story – Ruth N'Kweze is prevailed upon to don the command minidress and kinky boots, and attend the Comic Book Store as Lieutenant Uhuru).

Most of my first ideas are there: "The It Crowd" (sitcom about nerds working in a big company's IT department) gets one. There's another of mine in there too, under "British Comedy" - I took the idea of Raj and worked it into a show which might be obscure outside Britain, "Goodness Gracious Me" (British-Asian comedy sketch show about the experience of being Indian/Pakistani in the West). come to think of it, there's another Asian-British comedy show, a sitcom about being Pakistani in Birmingham, called "Citizen Khan" - imagining Raj dropped into the Citizen Khan world, with the added needle of being Indian among Pakistanis.

Lord of the Rings has NONE - imagine the Fellowship of the Ring with a group of additional members? Bernadette as tall Hobbit... Sheldon ends up, perhaps, advising Sauron...

nor does Narnia - the TBBT gang find an enchanted wardrobe...

and - one I really do think would work - h2g2, the Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Sheldon and co end up touring the Galaxy on the Heart of Gold! Strangely - currently no h2g2 crossovers. I'll think about this.

Werecreatures in China and Japan – character name! China : 狼人 láng rén is the Chinese werewolf. 狐狸精 Huli Jing, a fox spirit which usually appears as a beautiful young woman; most are dangerous, but some are featured as the heroines of love stories.

Japan : The most popular werecreatures in Japanese folklore is the kitsune (fox) and the tanuki or mijina (raccoon dog or badger). The kitsune is usually a female, and the tanuki, a male. Collectively, shapeshifters are called henge.

Jalapeño - dynamite chili.

Very strong.

Gut lengthways, discard stalk. Scoop out all seeds. Cut into thin strips and add to your meat/veg. If you're not sure don't add it all in. a little goes a long way.

Then wash your hands before touching anything sensitive. (eyes, et c.)Kitchen joke: how do you tell who the chili chef is? A - he or she washes their hands before they go to the toilet.


If the resulting chili is too strong, something like a few spoons of sweet chili sauce, mango chutney or even marmalade (true!) will tone it down a bit.

Chapter 40: The Lara Croft Duplication

Wheeler-Bell again

Wheeler-Bell 40: the Snarge Aversion? The Lara Croft Duplication?


The Cripes, Dolly Sisters, Ankh-Morpork.

"Ankhuaman?" Howard Wolowitz said, incredulously. Ponder Stibbons nodded, emphatically.

"Ankhuaman." he said.

Tetrachloridia Maccalariat, the Sub-Post Mistress, glared disapprovingly over at them. Raj blinked. She looked like an older version of Amy Farrah-Fowler. The resemblance was un-nerving.

Big Dave Stamper, shop proprietor, gave them a very brief smile.

"When I saw the potential, and started dealing in stamps, Mr von Lipwig came round from the Post Office and said we could do each other a deal. For mutual benefit." he said. Raj nodded, in an uncertain "go on…" sort of a way. He also took in Big Dave, who needed a lot of taking in. For the local comic shop proprietor was built big. You could not ignore him. He was, Raj, Howard and Leonard agreed, no Stuart Bloom. They saw a huge bearded man with dreadlocks, a pin through his nose, a straggly beard that didn't so much grow as straggle haphazardly over multiple chins, a beer belly belonging to three other people, and words which might have begun as something like Death or Pins! tattooed on a bicep. Except that a word which might have been Pins had been struck through and Stamps added above. Then and Comic Books had been added, in newer and fresher letters. And after that, in necessarily smaller letters, the words and Rail Ways-related ephemera! Big as he was, Dave was running out of bicep.

"Since I was dealing in stamps, Mr von Lipwig persuaded me into going the whole distance and opening a sub-post-office counter here."

He tried not to wince too obviously, but a wince on a body like Big Dave's causes vibrations and resonances which tend to ripple for a long time before settling down. There was a lot of Big Dave for a wince to ripple through.

"Miss Maccalariat came with the Post Office. I have to say it does make a difference to have another member of staff on the premises, and the rate of stock wastage through theft has gone right down." (1)

Leonard looked at Miss Tetrachloridia Maccalariat and then to Howard.

"I can see that's a sorta advantage, yes." he mumbled. He didn't want to attract any more attention from Miss Tetrachloridia Maccalariat than was strictly necessary. But Hell, she did look like a ten-or-so-years-older version of Amy. One who seemed to have forgotten how to smile and was less approachable. But definitely an older Amy Farrah-Fowler.

He turned back to Big Dave. Sheldon Cooper was not with them. He was back at Empirical Crescent running computer models to explain the internal relationships of the place. Leonard was relieved. He, Raj and Howard had, without a word being said, agreed it would not be a good idea to remark on the way Big Dave Stamper looked like the human prototype for Comic Book Guy in the Simpsons. Right down to the snidey somewhat patronising way of talking. Leonard suspected this would take a very long explanation. But he would not have been surprised if, at any moment, a streetwise ten-year-old boy with spiky blonde hair and a geeky best friend with slick greasy hair and bottle-bottom glasses were to walk in. And be treated with patronising thinly disguised scorn by Big Dave. The situation might kinda demand it.

Ponder Stibbons would explain it as Narrativium, or something, Leonard supposed. Ponder had tried to explain Narrativium as the way so much stuff resonated and found echoes between Earth and this Discworld place. Leonard thought he half-understood.

But, and to the three guys, this was familiar turf. A comics shop. Well. A sort of general purpose nerd-interest store that sold other things than comics. Stamps. Leonard thought stamp-collectors were really geeky people. But he guessed anywhere that had letters and post offices, you'd find philatelists. Universal law of nature. A growing section of the store sold model railway stuff. Right down to model kits and all the bits you needed to set up a layout… no, Sheldon got verbal about that. Not a layout, permanent way. And all the gear the other really weird geeks bought into, train-spotters.

And a few disregarded, dusty, racks and stacks, forced right to the back of the store by the pressure of all the new stuff, was to do with pins and pin-collecting. Nobody much seemed to go there, apart from what Ponder described as the real oddballs. That was apparently how Big Dave had started out, many years ago. He had a knack for spotting new trends and crazes and servicing them. It was how he was getting quietly rich.

Leonard wondered about bringing Stuart Bloom here and leaving him to get a few pointers from an expert.

But for now, the Caltech guys were in the sort of place they loved. A whole new world. Which had comic books. In the familiar large boxes shelved at waist level, filed upright so they could be riffed through by front cover, and helpfully labelled. And most were in English… well, Morporkian.

Howard had asked Ponder Stibbons. He, Howard Wolowitz, could buy the thing about parallel development, that most languages on the Disc had evolved in parellel with Earth languages under the same sort of conditions and stimuli. Yeah, the human larynx, throat and mouth could only voice the same finite range of phonemes wherever you went. And this Ankh-Morpork place was a river port in the heart of the world and had sent lotsa people out to colonise the world and had evolved as a trading centre, from origins among people kinda like Romans, Celts and Vikings. There was an Industrial Revolution of sorts going on right now. So you speak English. Same way London and the British came about. Why America speaks English. And Johanna's from a country which kinda got colonised by sorta Dutch people who don't take no crap from anyone, and fought a few wars to make the point. So she speaks Afrikaans. Sorta. And you got a France, a Germany, a Russia, an Italy. Got it.

But that don't explain why the alphabet on the page in anything you read is the same twenty-six letters and ten number symbols and punctuation marks we use on Earth? What's the deal there?

Ponder had conceded this and agreed it was a mystery. The University's Linguistics department was working on it. It was generating lots of theses in Parellel Development of Orthographies. Lots of work for Wizards with the right sort of minds and inclinations.

Johanna, in fact, had brought them here. She'd been strangely reluctant to come in, as had Ruth.

"Knock yourself out, Ponder." she had said, using an acquired Americanism. Ponder was a keen collector and reader of comic books. She accepted this. "Got things to do."

"So have I." Ruth had agreed. "See you later, guys?"

Howard shrugged. A place containing a completely male clientele with a haphazard sense of personal hygiene was, well, a comic book store. He was used to it. He guessed two gals like Johanna and Ruth would respond pretty much like gals on California to comic-books, and not feel the same sort of compulsion to explore the exiting world of new possibilities they offered. Hell, Johanna's done things you could script comic books around. She's lived in them. Lucy's been takin' notes and writing storyboards.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johanna looked at Ruth. The two shared a resigned shrug.

"What can you do?" she said, sighing. Ruth patted her arm, kindly. There'd been no man in her life since… she tried not to go there. But she reflected Emmanuel N'Juri would have not been disposed to reading adventure comics. Not at all. A little thought in her mind wondered if the memory of her necessarily brief marriage to a man, who had seriously been the sort of bad boy your mother warned you about, was actively stopping her from seeking anyone else out. She wondered who the next one might be and if he'd be into comics. The absurdity of the idea made her smile slightly.

Johanna guessed her friend's thoughts. She returned the pat.

"If it helps, the nearest thing to a boyfriend before I met Ponder was a guy I served with in the Ermy." she said. "You might cell him a complete maniac. He was worse then thet. So sane you could not, et ell, ever, describe him es a psychopath. But merried to the military. Methodicelly, calculatingly, totally, sane."

"Ah." Ruth said. "Worst sort."

"Exectly." Johanna agreed. "End efter Hans, there was, very briefly, somebody here in Enkh-Morpork. Let's say I got very unwisely drunk one night."

Ruth listened for the spill words.

"End so did she." Johanna said, laconically.

"Ah…" Ruth said. Johanna grinned.

"I woke up the next morning thinking – en interesting country to visit, but I em not meant to live there. Ponder does not know, by the way."

"Understood." Ruth said.

"Let's get a drink." Johanna decided. "But not to excess."

"Obviously" Ruth agreed.

A little way further up the street they met a third Assassin, who welcomed them warmly. She explained a situation that required her presence. Johanna nodded, unsurprised.

"Not that you'll need us." Johanna said. "But we should be there too. There are people you need to meet. A man called Howard, for instance, who without me being there to explain, might become troublesome."

Ruth nodded, grimly.

"But let us have a drink first."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fading sign outside the door showed a crown being bisected by an axe. Lucy knew enough about symbolism to wonder if this was some sort of reference to an event in history, a long-ago incident in the past of this place. She wondered about asking Angua.

Angua von Überwald smiled slightly.

"It used to be called the Crown and Axe." she said. "Not any more. The new owners didn't think it needed the new name to be put up outside. Everybody entitled to drink here knows to find it. Or soon finds out. Coming in? I'll introduce you. Amy, this isn't the sort of bar you could go to without an escort. But since you're with me, it'll be understood."

"Interesting." said Amy Farrah-Fowler. "A bar with a reputation?"

The idea of going into a seriously shady bar frequented by seriously shady people excited her. It called to the inner Amy, a well-hidden bad girl who'd read about being disreputable but had never actually gone there. There hadn't been all that many opportunities for her to be bad, for one thing.

"Yes." Angua said, leaving it at that.

The three of them entered Biers together, descending the short stairs into the gloom.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I bought out the massage parlour next door." Big Dave said to Leonard. "Oh, they still work from the upstairs. Separate entrance. So that my customers don't get confused. But I needed the downstairs space to expand into."

Leonard nodded. Ponder had introduced the three visitors. Big Dave had expressed an interest and was graciously explaining the local comics 'verse to them.

"So. If we brought some comics over from Earth." Leonard said, thoughtfully. "You guess there'd be a specialised market for them?"

"Does the High Priest excrete under the arboreal cover?" Big Dave said, rhetorically. "Is the bear Ionian?"

Leonard disentangled and translated the metaphor. He nodded.

"Err… it might work better if local writers and artists effectively translate them into an Ankh-Morporkian context." Ponder Stibbons said. He was uneasy about Earth cultural artefacts ending up on the Disc. Vetinari might get ironic. Or even sarcastic. "That way the ideas travel over, but the original context doesn't."

"That might work too." Big Dave conceded, after a moment of reflection. He'd heard about Vetinari's keen desire to restrict general access to imported Roundworld stuff. This had been explained to him by the Patrician, personally. (2) Vetinari had stressed the point. "But I'd still like to see your world's comic books."

He watched the front door of the store. He frowned as a streetwise-looking ten-year-old boy with spiky blonde hair and a geeky best friend with slick greasy hair and bottle-bottom glasses walked in.

"You two! My best non-customers, I see. The ones who treat my store as a free library. Do feel free to browse for three hours, crease the magazine covers, and leave again, having bought precisely nothing."

Leonard nodded. Why was he not surprised...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Angua was completely at home. It took a while for Amy's eyes to adjust to the gloom. She was aware of shapes in the dark, seated around tables, and eyes turning to regard them with interest. Lucy appeared to be breathing more deeply and slowly, as if controlling fear. Amy noted, with interest, how her eyes suddenly appeared to be reflecting such light as there was. Like a deer in the headlights…

"It's okay." Angua said. She exchanged hellos with a few half-seen people. Voices returned her greeting, some with a not-quite-fully-human edge. The tall sort-of-human shape behind the bar turned to regard her. It was humanoid in that it had the right number of limbs in roughly the right places on its torso. And the torso had a head. But…

He nodded greetings to Angua and was mixing a drink for her without her being asked her preference.

"And the new people, miss?" he asked, in a voice that was subtly wrong. Amy couldn't work out how. Lucy, buoyed up on beta-blockers, felt the panic rise, in a distant and muffled way, as the bar-entity scrutinised her.

"One basic rule, miss." he said to Lucy. Lucy sensed it wasn't meant to be hostile. Much. That was comforting. "I can guess what you are, or what you might be. If you can't turn back at will, you're barred. Applies to all your sort. That, and no fighting. At least, not on the premises."

He was mixing drinks, and passed the glass to Lucy. She was surprised to find it was, as near as damn it, to a tequila sunrise.

"Igor's skill." Angua said. "He doesn't need to ask what your preference is. He might even give you a glass of something you never thought to try. And you discover you like it. He matches people to drinks. Igor, this is Lucy. She's a…"

"I know." Igor said. "She was in the papers, for one thing. Wondered when I'd see her in here."

He nodded what could have been taken by a charitably inclined objective onlooker for an accepting welcome, then turned to Amy. He regarded her for a long time. Then he poured a drink.

Amy took it, with a word of thanks. Igor cracked what might have been a smile. It appeared to take time and effort, as if dredging up a long-forgotten and rarely used skill. She cautiously sipped the drink. It tasted good…

"Lots of your kind come in here, miss." he said. "Technically they're not allowed, but we make an exception. Funny. Can't see a scar. Got your scar where it don't normally show, I reckon?"

Amy smiled slightly. She was dressed in Ankh-Morporkian street clothes that tended to cover a lot. It disappointed Amy that she didn't look as sensational in local clothes as Penny did.

"Oh, the usual sort of things that happen." she said. "Appendectomy when I was twelve. Tonsils taken out. I made friends with the Asian girl in the next bed, but she sort of died. And I did cut myself with scalpels a few times in the course of work. Which meant stitches. But hey, everybody's a bit clumsy, when they're learning how to use medical instruments."

Igor made the almost-smile again.

"Thought so. Some of your people in, over there. Igor? Igor? Igorina? New girl in town!"

"Errr…" said Angua. She realised a misunderstanding was going on. She thought she might have to intervene. Then the slightly built but intelligent-seeming youngish woman walked over. She was disconcertingly attractive, had a Gothic sort of look to her, and had a fairly obvious scar on one side of her face that appeared to have been inexpertly stitched.

"New in town? Pleased to meet you. I'm Igorina, from the Guild of Assassins. Come and meet people!"

Angua relaxed. Amy was in good hands, then. For one thing, the Assassins had been briefed and were under instructions to be hospitable and keep an eye open. Angua also noticed the way Igor's eyes followed Amy. She winced slightly. He'd actually smiled at her. Smiled. She wondered whether to alert Johanna and Ruth as to a possible complication. Well, at least Amy's likely to get free drinks in Biers…

"Hi, Angua." said a diffident voice. Angua noted Lucy jump in fright. She smelled fear. Fear of nearby predator. Werewolves were hardwired to notice this in prey. It made things easier. She'd seen that fright before when Lucy had first encountered her. She intervened.

"Lucy. This is Anthony N'Kima. Yes, he's a wereleopard. But he's one of the good guys. He also remembers Johanna and Ruth – and myself – taking his whole pride to the cleaners a year or so ago. He was the only survivor." (3)

She smiled sweetly at the handsome black guy, who was dressed in good-quality Ankh-Morporkian street clothes. He winced, as if a bad memory had resurfaced.

"Yes. We all learned." Anthony said. His voice, to Lucy, was English with the accent and intonation of Black Africa, with, here and there, a touch of the way Johanna spoke. It wasn't unpleasant.

"Yes. We all did." Angua said. "Come and have a drink with us, Tony."

While Lucy was meeting other weres, Amy was getting to know kindred spirits on the Discworld. The group of Igors had realised instantly she wasn't one of the clan, but were intrigued by the overlap of professional interests and ways of thinking. Amy was discovering new things about dealing with human bodies that involved a degree of surgical intervention and dissection. Both sides were learning from each other.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amy was dispassionately explaining about frontal lobotomies and how there had been a vogue for them as a surgical intervention designed to remedy some sorts of psychiatric illness. Her hosts listened, largely impassively. One of the interchangeable Igors shuddered slightly.

"So. Let me lose the lisp, by the way. Makes it easier. You open the front of the skull. You insert a heated wire, a thermal cautery tool, and manually sever the corpus callosum linking the hemispheres of the brain. And in passing, because this is an imprecise instrument, irreversibly destroy brain tissue on either side. Collateral damage. I can see there may be some positive outcomes. But perhaps the cure is worse than the disease?"

Amy sighed.

"We learnt. We hardly ever do it that way, now."

She went on to discuss less drastic measures designed to rebalance the chemical structure of the brain. The Igors listened, attentively. After a while, one took out a notebook and pen.

"His right hand used to belong to an author, by the way." Igorina remarked. "Wonderful penmanship!"

Now it was Amy's turn to look bemused. Up until now she had been enjoying talking neurosurgery to fellow professionals who could understand her at her level, without her needing to dumb it down. She appreciated this.

"You can do transplant surgery?" she said, excited. "Of whole arms and limbs?"

Two Igors and an Igorina looked at each other.

"Now I know she's not from around here." Igorina remarked. She scrutinised Amy.

"Why don't you call round to my place?" she asked. "At the Guild? There's always an interesting accident or two to deal with, and I can show you how we do things here. Talk shop."

Likewise." said one of the other Igors, who Amy had learnt worked for the local police force. The third Igor, she discovered, was an intern at the local hospital. And they'd accepted her. It was a nice feeling.

Amy relaxed. She noted the…man… behind the bar was looking at her. He looked away quickly, seemingly aware that she'd noticed. She smiled slightly. She'd never be unfaithful to Sheldon. And in this gloomy light, she thought the bar….man looked a little like Sam Malone in "Cheers". The same sort of strange, she thought. A face that looks like it's been assembled from spare parts left over from other people. Some parts carved, other parts made from setting liquid poured into moulds, and no part looking as if it quite belongs with the others… and those eyebrows… Still, a man, any man, expressing what she thought was attraction to her was rare enough to savour. And Amy was happy, excited and relaxed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why don't we get a few people together?" Anthony suggested. "It's always better to show than to tell. And Lucy's new to this. It must have come as a shock to you. At least we all started young. Me, you, Angua, Ludmilla if she's available, perhaps Kitsune-san from the Agatean Embassy, and see if we can't get Bjorn to join us. So Lucy can see other weres. And we can show her how it all works. Guide her."

"Hmm." Angua said. "A deer. Running with a wolf, a bear, a leopard and a fox. Well, we've all signed the Protocol. So we won't end up fighting or eating each other. Okay, we can give it a try. There's no substitute for actually getting out there and doing it, after all."

Angua paused and reflected.

"A long way outside the city, I think."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I almost forgot." Dave Stamper said, breaking off a conversation with the guys about Discworld comic heroes. Allocated pocket money by Johanna and Ponder, all three were diligently and excitedly spending it on a selection of the local comics, as recommended by Dave who saw the Roundworld visitors as a holy grail – interested tourists with access to money who were likely to become regulars. They were worth investing in. Dave was also interested in their description of role-playing card games like Mystic Warlords of Ka'a, and part of his mind was excitedly calculating figures. Ponder had been exploring a partnership deal with the Unseen University Press for a locally-themed adaptation. He had suggested Big Dave might want to be a preferred vendor. I owe for that Assassin contact fee, Ponder thought. If I can offset that with a sponsorship deal that could bring in a few thousand…

Ponder had no fear of being bilked. As a senior academic working for a major University and one versed in the disinterested pursuit of scientific knowledge, he was learning how to bring the dollars in. and besides, everybody knew Johanna had a sharp mind for business and zero tolerance for being cheated. It helped.

Dave returned, carrying a life-size cardboard cut-out. The guys looked at it, enthralled. Ponder saw who was being depicted in life-sized art and winced. His wizard senses twanged with impending trouble.

"A possible new comic series." Dave said. "Can I explain the theme to you gentlemen? It involves a lady archaeologist…"

"Hey, wow!" Howard said. "That's Lara Croft!"

Ponder winced again. He'd met…

The woman in the cardboard cut-out was about five foot ten tall. Long auburn hair tied back in a pony-tail. A peaked cap, tight sleeveless top, and skimpy shorts. She wore dark glasses and was festooned with weaponry. Two pistol crossbows, held belligerently in each hand. She scowled meaningfully at the world.

Big Dave looked slightly bemused.

"The initials are correct, certainly." He said. "L.C. But the character is called Laredo Cronk…" Big Dave scowled at a large shapeless man in baggy clothing who was also enthralled by an unattainably attractive woman, albeit one in two-dimensional form. "I would thank you not to stand too close, Major Saggybritches! That artwork was expensively commissioned and is to be appreciated with the eyes only!"

Leonard stepped politely away from a type of comic book store denizen he instantly recognised. He did not smell too fresh. So this place gets them too. A memory was triggered. Something Johanna had said? Over breakfast at the University? He tried to remember. He sensed it would be important. He regarded the local Lara Croft, wondering if she was based on anyone real…
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So that's the chemical structure of this thorazine stuff." Davinia Bellamy said, peering down at Bernadette's sketch in the notepad. "Let me get the terms correct… three linked benzene rings, one interrupted with a sulphate, one chlorobenzene, and a tailed nitrile group. Can I compare this to what we know concerning the active components in tree-frog secretions? I've got an alchemical analysis here…"

The two compared notes in their respective specialities. Bernadette was enjoying herself too. Their day had been spent largely in constructing a common scientific vocabulary and smoothing over differences between their respective scientific conventions. Discovering a common chemical vocabulary had helped. For Bernadette, it made up for the apprehension and unease she'd felt in venturing into the Assassins' Guild. It helped that she was Davinia's guest, and to all intents and purposes a visiting Dwarf alchemist. The armor, chainmail and the ax helped. And the guy in charge, as near as you could get to a real-life Skeletor, had been intimidating. Davinia had respectfully introduced him as Mr Mericet. He'd been courteous and as friendly as she guessed Skeletor could ever manage, and had apologised for having to rush off as he was taking a class, but perhaps later, Doctor Rostenkowski-Wolowitz?

Bernadette reflected that he'd known her name without needing to be asked. She tried not to be worried at the implication that the Assassins had been briefed about them. It appeared they'd decided to be friendly and accommodating. But hey, seeing their labs and realising the guys on this world knew a lot about biochemistry and pharmaceutics, only they approached it from a different direction, was really interesting…

They discussed the synthesis of a largely thorazine-based drug, and chemical relatives like acepromazine, as they both understood it. Davinia was intrigued at how you could chemically synthesise it by means of a two-step demethylation/methylation procedure.(4) She was used to extracting it from the skins and some bodily organs of tropical frogs bred for the purpose. It could be distilled from certain plants, too.

Each explained her terms of reference and demonstration rigs were set up from equipment available in the Assassins' Guild labs. It was familiar ground to both. They were just approaching the same goal from different directions.

And a meeting of minds occurred.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Of course, it's just at the proof stage yet." Big Dave said. "But the publishers at Dibbler Comics are really excited and believe Laredo Cronk, Tomb Excavator is going to be a hit. A real best-seller."

"Errr." Ponder Stibbons said, uncomfortably. His wizard-senses were by now really twanging. The sort of twanging that happened, usually, when something in the High Energy Magic Building was overheating and about to blow. He looked around. Howard and Raj seemed not to have noticed, But Leonard was uneasy. Wizard senses coming into play, Ponder speculated. You just know when something's about to go up in flame and noise. Even if you don't know what the Something is.

Then the Something came in through the door. All conversation stopped. Ponder winced.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The evolving computer model of Empirical Crescent turned and revolved on the screen. There were still, to a specialised kind of mind used to contemplating the logic of multidimensional space, obvious gaps and holes. Anybody else looking in from the outside would see something looking like a 3D architectural model of a residential building, but one superimposed with bewildering multicolour swirls and streaks and impossible tangents, like something M.C. Escher would have looked at and wept over, as he would have known himself utterly incapable of getting anything like that down on paper. Howard's methodical mapping of the apparent internal contradictions and complexities of the block was nowhere near complete yet. But to that particular sort of skewed and specialised mind, patterns were emerging.

Doctor Sheldon Cooper, who had declined to go on supervised group visits around the city of Ankh-Morpork as this was far more engrossing, glared at the screen. His working companion and co-researcher looked on in vaguely unfocused attention.

"Something is missing here." The Bursar remarked. Sheldon nodded assent.

"There are certainly large gaps." he said. "I am awaiting Howard and the others to return, so as to continue performing the necessary field research. It is vexing that they all appear to consider day trips and excursions to be of far more interest than this."

Sheldon threw up his hands in frustrated perplexity.

"What could be more important than exploring a real, actual, tesseract?" he demanded. "A chance to apply our knowledge of theoretical physics in a manner hitherto thought impossible! To see if the reality matches the equations, and the math stacks up!"

He nodded to several whiteboards, imported from Caltech on Earth, which were full of symbols only a dozen or so people could ever hope to comprehend. (5)

The Bursar laid a sympathetic hand on Sheldon's shoulder. Sheldon flinched slightly from the physical contact but did not remark on it.

"If the mathematics is correct." the Bursar said, in a quietly excited voice, "then we can make tentative projections based on the mathematics and predict where hidden corridors and secret places, currently inaccessible to us, will be within the apparent fabric and phase-space of this building. For instance, here. If we cross-reference it to the notation defining bivectors in four dimensions forming a six-dimensional linear space with basis (e12, e13, e14, e23, e24, e34), we can extrapolate from a^b = (a1b2 – a2bi) e12(a1b3 – a3bi) e13+ (a1b4 – a4bi) e23… "

"And it logically follows on that (a1b2 – a2bi) is in exponential regression and therefore an infinite series!" Sheldon called, excitedly. "Therefore we should focus our attention in the area here…"  (6)

He pointed to a zone on the eye-damaging spinning image of Empirical Crescent.

And two more people were having a good day in Ankh-Morpork.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One person who suddenly realised he wasn't having a good day in Ankh-Morpork was Big Dave Stamper.

All conversation in the store hushed as she walked in. Granted, Major Saggybritches (7) was not-so-discreetly ogling the woman who had just walked in. Closely followed by two other women. One of whom, the striking redhead who came into the store occasionally, was hovering close, as if to try and restrain the first, the angry-looking one, who towered above her.

Behind them the door swung shut. It didn't slam as such. Unheeded by the three, it settled gently and closed with the usual soft thud. As if the option of slamming had been considered, and discarded as un-necessary emphasis and very possibly professionally unstylish. The third of the women, the tall elegant black-skinned one, stood back from the others and appeared to look worried. Very worried.

And the tall one stepped forward, and regarded the cardboard cut-out image of Laredo Cronk. She scrutinised it silently for some time from several angles. She even took out a pistol crossbow, lifted it, and compared it to the artistic representation of the weapon depicted on the image.

"Not even bloody close!" she said, her words cutting the awed silence like a very sharp blade.

Watching, Leonard Hofstadter registered the awesome physical similarity of the angry-looking woman and the cardboard image. Did comic-book heroes – and heroines - really exist in real life here? Was he really seeing Lara Croft in the flesh? Despite his apprehension, he registered that there wasn't so much flesh on display. Lara – or was it Laredo? was respectably dressed in a full-length skirt and tailored jacket. She was hatless and her hair was tied up in a stern bun. She wore glasses, yes. And, Leonard noticed, a wicked-looking sword on one hip and a matching set of daggers on the other. A holster on each hip for the pistol crossbows, in the manner of a Wesrern gunslinger just about to call out a rival at High Noon outside the saloon. And she wore black. Same sort of expensive-looking black as Ruth was wearing.

"Mr Stamper." the woman said, glaring at him. She spared a word to the person standing at her right.

"Johanna, there is no need for you to stand close enough to grab and hopefully seek to restrain my sword-arm. None whatsoever. I've known you for long enough to guess the way you think. I assure you I am completely, perfectly, calm right now. I simply want a little word with Mr Stamper here concerning this new comic-book series he proposes to release."

She resumed her glare at Big Dave.

"Miss Band. So nice to meet you." he said. "I believe a soothing beverage is mandated at moments like this?"

Leonard winced. He didn't need induced wizard-senses or predictive psi-talent to be aware the tall woman, Miss Band, was quivering with anger like an arrow on a bow pulled to full tension. And Johanna looked worried. A woman who could make Johanna Smith-Rhodes look worried. A dead ringer for Lara Croft, with all that implied. And he was standing six feet away from her. Hell.

He looked around. Raj was speculatively weighing up the distance to the door. Howard just seemed amazed. Stunned, even.

He was aware of Dave Stamper saying, as calmly as he could, that the publishers were Dibbler Comics of Brewer Street. The DC Comics imprint who publish many of our best-selling lines. Although these days, Marvellous Comics are entering the market, and of course we deal in the best man-gi titles imported from Agatea, with Morporkian translations in various forms, and don't ask what's in the closed room over there in the old massage parlour we expanded into, the one with the You Must Be Over Eighteen notice on the door, and…

Miss Band was by now making a point of resting a pistol crossbow on each shoulder, her arms crossed. She continued to glare at Big Dave, unspeaking.

Big Dave was, Leonard and Ponder noted, talking volubly on, if not actively babbling. Explaining that he was merely the vendor and she, Miss Band, might be best employed taking her complaint to Mr Dibbler, the publisher. Johanna had moved to Ponder's side and was shrugging resignedly.

And then Howard Wolowitz stepped forward. He was fascinated by Alice Band. The way a prey animal who has never seen a lioness before might be fascinated with the majesty, sleek grace and power of the larger animal. He stepped forward, noticing with the usual air of resignation that she was a head and at least a shoulder and an upper chest taller than he was.

Alice spared him a fraction of a glare. But Howard was used to being glared at by attractive women. He was immured to it.

"Yes?" she invited Howard. "Make it quick!"

"Ma'am." Howard said. "May I remark that the resemblance you have to Lara Croft is truly amazing. I can't help myself saying that if you're the life model for the character, you must look truly hot in the shorts and the vest. I'd be surprised if there wasn't a truly lucky guy out there…"

This time Alice blinked in sheer surprise. Raj and Leonard winced. Howard had even said it in his best "This woman is doable and I'm trying to score with this hot chick" voice. Johanna did the thing with her face and the palm of her hand. And Ruth N'Kweze reacted. Howard found his arm being twisted up behind his back and his body directed towards the door. Admittedly twisted up behind his back by another hot chick, Ruth, but she was still bundling him outside, shouting "Don't kill him, Alice! He's not from this planet! I'll explain later! Howard! Outside! NOW!"

Alice Band blinked again.

"Did he really say that? To me?" she asked, rhetorically. Johanna patted her friend's arm. Very carefully, and not her sword-arm.

"Ja. Howard really is from another plenet. Let me explain."

"He tried that on with Miss Alice Band? He really is on another planet. Brave man." Big Dave murmured. Alice resumed her glare.

"You don't have that excuse." she told him. "Poor one though it is."

"Elice?" Johanna said. "Can I make a suggestion here?"

Go on." Alice Band said, still looking perplexed at Howard's totally unprecedented approach to her. By now, most men in Ankh-Morpork and for a long way outside it knew. Or suspected. Or thought better of approaching her.

Johanna made her proposal for resolving the thing without bloodshed. Dibbler Comics and their appointed sales agent, to wit, Mr Big Dave Stamper, were knowingly using the likeness of Miss Alice Band, Stealth Archaeologist and licenced Assassin, in a comic book series. Money was to be made from this. Some of that money, say a 15% royalty on each sale, should go to Miss Alice Band in recompense for use of her copyright property, to wit, her own likeness. Miss Alice Band should also have editorial control and right of veto on storylines and art. Which means no nudity. Unless she really wants it, of course. Look at it from this angle, Alice. They're going to do it anyway. Even if you get lawyers. That's going to cost you and take ages. Even though a halfway good lawyer can point out in court that the standard disclaimer that no resemblence to anyone living is intended and it's purely coincidental does not apply here, as the physical likeness, the characteristics of the person depicted, and the life-history of the character as a Stealth Archaelogist are so clearly based on Miss Alice Band as to establish a very good legal case - well, court cases take time and in the meantime, until prevented, they will publish, sell, and make money. Causing you embarrassment and inconvenience. You also cannot inhume anybody until there's a Guild contract. The best thing is for you to get in at the start, to control it, and most importantly to take a cut. Vorbei, with your experience as a Stealth Archaeologist, you could suggest storylines, and get a scriptwriter's fee too…

Alice considered this. Then she smiled slightly.

"Get bloody Dibbler here." she said. "Let's negotiate. Johanna, you can be my back-up on this one? Sort of manager of my intellectual property rights, or something? Thanks."

She looked around. Then nodded at Raj and Leonard.

"You must be some of the visitors from Roundworld? The ones Johanna and Ruth are looking after? Oh, hi, Ponder, by the way. Bit preoccupied just now."

And so the guys met Alice Band. She smiled pleasantly at Leonard.

"I hear your lady friend isn't just attractive, she's by all accounts gorgeous?" Alice asked. "Stories get around. I heard she had a try-out teaching at the Guild. I didn't get to meet her, but she caused a stir."

"Ah-huh, ma'am. Penny. You'll meet her soon, I guess."

"I hope so!" Alice said. Johanna gave her friend a suspicious look. She changed the subject.

"You could kill Howard for making a pess." she said. "Believe me, Elice, he's hardwired to do that. Cennot help himself. There is a nestier way, end one thet keeps him elive."

"Go on." Alice said.

"It is simple. I introduce you to Howard's wife. You explain to her the issues you hev end the emberresment he caused. Then Bernadette speaks to him. Quite loudly."

Alice smiled slightly. Ponder and Leonard grinned. Raj sniggered.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Dave's Pin Exchange is described thusly in that indispensable on-line reference source, the Terry Pratchett L-Space Wiki: A specialist shop in Dolly Sisters, improbably sandwiched in between a house of negotiable affection and a massage parlour. This sort of thing happens: in Good Omens, the parallel is Aziraphale's antiquarian bookshop, which is an incongruous feature in a similar sort of street with similar sorts of neighbours in the Soho district of London (Britain's equivalent of the Whore Pits).

With a jolly notice outside proclaiming the premises as The Home of Acuphilia!, Dave's is the sort of shop where the proprietor knows every one of his customers by name. Even so, Stanley is thought of as "a bit weird about pins, to tell you the truth". This provokes a moment of reflection in Moist von Lipwig...

Dave himself is a huge bearded man with dreadlocks, a pin through his nose, a beer belly belonging to three other people, and the words Death or Pins! tattoed on a bicep.

We learn in Thud!, from Nobby Nobbs, that after the stamp collecting craze began to take off, drawing interest from the same obsessive collectors who used to be into acuphilia but have now put childish pins behind them, Dave has now diversified into stamp-collecting and related ephemera. It is unsure what Dave's feelings are on this, but Nobby considers him a friend, or at least a mate. (Could it be that Nobby now has another unlikely seeming hobby - stamp collecting - to go with the morris dancing and historical re-enactment?)

We learnt in Making Money that the premises have since undergone a change of name and are now called Dave's Stamp and Pin Exchange. In The Compleat Ankh-Morpork, the precise location of the business is given as Cripes Alley*(G2), Dolly Sisters. But cross-referencing this to the map, there is no Cripes Alley in Dolly Sisters; there is in fact a street called The Cripes in reference G2. The woodcut advert in The Compleat Ankh-Morpork reproduces the sign hanging outside the shop - this advertises that the Pin Exchange now also accommodates a sub-post office. Good marketing here on the part of Dave, Stanley Howler and Moist von Lipwig?

(2) somewhere in the tale Slipping Between Worlds. And yes, I know…

(3) go to my tale Whys and Weres. In which, among other things, Ruth is very briefly married and becomes, err, a Black Widow.

(4) no, I don't know what it means either. Apparently you slosh chemicals together and apply heat and distil and so forth. Think Igors and bubbling green smoke in convoluted glassware.

(5) As has been unkindly remarked, at least nine of them would be in places where they would be supervised by kindly hands and allowed nothing sharper than crayons.

(6) Gods, the amount of mucking around it took to type this. And if any theoretical physicists are reading this… look, to 98% of the human race it looks like the sort of thing Sheldon and the Bursar might say, OK?

(7) Some back-story, possibly wasted on a one-shot character who will turn out to have no speaking part. Major Saggybritches was in fact his real name. Mr and Mrs Saggybritches had considered their son was destined for a shining military career and had elected to give him a really appropriate first name, in the hope it would attract success. Their son had barely made it to Private and had been invalided out early. Something to do with flat feet. Traumatised by sadistic NCO's who had made mock of his first name, he had turned his back on the world and lived in another one of his own choosing.

Notes Dump:

That place for non-linear discontinuities, things and concepts which will prove the essential truth of the Copenhagen Interpretation and which, in the manner of waves and particles projected through a slit, might impinge on either the past or the present of the tale or multiple alternate-universe versions thereof. Odd stray thoughts with no immediate relevance to the tale at hand, but which need to go down somewhere lest I forget.

Orchis Italica – "naked man orchid"

Salmiakki. This stuff is especially loved in Finland, and it is ammonium chloride mixed with liquorice. The taste is simultaneously sour, fiery and sweet, and ingesting ammonium chloride will accelerate salivation. It is enjoyed also elsewhere in Scandinavia, Netherlands and Northern Germany, but not so much elsewhere. Salmiakki Koskenkorva (salmiakki mixed with Koskenkorva Vodka) is the Finnish version of the Gargle Blaster.

In Finnish colloquial, the word salmiakki refers also to ammonium chloride compound itself, not only to the candy made from it, because "salmiakki" is a Finnish take on the Late Latin term sal ammoniac, that is, "Salt of Amun", a somewhat rare mineral which is almost pure ammonium chloride.

Hardtack bread belongs to the daily diet of the Finnish Armed Forces. The usual slang nime is vaneri (literally "veneer" or "plywood"), with mess halls called Valtion vanerimurskaamo (State Plywood Crushery). Incredibly, many conscripts actually develop a taste for it.

Kancho. Apparently a Japanese prank which isn't just "goosing". It involves active finger insertion. Hmm. Agatean character who makes himself truly unpopular.

The European Space Agency locked 6 people in a house/mock-spaceship for over 500 days, as an experiment to see how people would cope with a trip to Mars and back. Naturally, they still had gravity, but the communications delays and isolation from "Earth" were simulated pretty well. They emerged unscathed, though they were certainly happy to be out.

One of the lessons taken away from this experiment was that the best remedy for this trope is probably the simplest; make sure that all the participants have plenty to do. This is harder than it sounds, because piloting a spacecraft is a task that consists of short bursts of complex mathematical calculations -which, unless something has gone spectacularly wrong, will be handled by computer- followed by anything from hours to months of waiting. Lightweight, compact storage media for books, music and other entertainment media might be as crucial to the feasibility of manned spaceflight as any development in the field of rocketry.

They should give them access to TV Tropes.

Reading the very funny and very misanthropic columnist Charlie Brooker's collection of essays, The Hell Of It All. He quotes a British telecoms firm that chose to outsource its customer care phone line to South Africa. And then insisted its employees attended elocution lessons and what was charmingly called an "Accent Reduction" course. Imagine the words Accent Reduction voiced in a South African accent. Hmmm. Exxsint rrrriduction. Or something like. And more pertinently. The likely reaction of a Johanna Smith-Rhodes being told that as a condition of employment, she has to reduce that accent.  Yes. Indeed. Come to think of it, I did cover this in passing somewhere. Even classroom monster and Assassin elocution teacher Joan Sanderson-Reeves took a step back and decided not to press the point. It's in a tale somewhere.

Tvtropes: Abraham Lincoln was once asked his opinion of a man's book. He didn't particularly enjoy it, but wanted to be nice, so he said "For people who like this sort of thing, this is the sort of thing that they would like." His review of my stuff!

Finnish: Google translates "Liitoshitsaaja", which is "Joint welder", to "Flying shit recipient". This is technically correct, as the word "liitoshitsaaja" could be either liito(glide)-shit-saaja(recipient) or liitos(joint)-hitsaaja(welder), but I dare to say welders are talked about more often. (tvt)

Snarge: the technical term for what happens when a body impacts an aircraft propeller or turbojet.

Chapter 41: The Irrationally-Numbered PlatformTheory

Wheeler-Bell 41: The Anomia Dilemma. The Irrationally Numbered Platform Resolution.


Might be the last one for a while as I'm going to be pretty busy for the next few weeks. Might not be another update of anything before October (2017) at the earliest. Enjoy! But one reviewer wanted moar. Happy to oblige!


The Guild of Assassins, Filigree Street, Ankh-Morpork

Doctor Davinia Bellamy heard the knock on the lab door and looked up and frowned.

"Oh, damn, that time of day already." Davinia said.

Doctor Bernadette Rostenkowski-Wolowitz glanced up from her task of monitoring the drip of a third-stage distillation that was delivering a solution of chlorpromazine sulphate (1) dissolved in a carrying medium. The drug would then be isolated, refined and mixed into a placebo base to be shaped into pills for administration by mouth. It was routine stuff for both co-researchers, who appreciated working with each other and trading professional skills. Bernadette appreciated that Discworld chemistry was at the "can-do" stage where a researcher, in need of a particular piece of kit, simply reached for, say, a length of glass tube of the right bore and thickness, held it over a flame, used a necessary aptitude for glass-blowing or just simply glass-working, and made it for herself. She, Bernadette, was used to looking through a scientific supplies catalog, picking up the phone, and getting her kit to order; people like Davinia Bellamy just shrugged and made it for themselves.

Bernadette was rediscovering lab skills that were largely obsolescent on her own planet. She was discovering she liked it. With help and tuition from Davinia, she was describing or sketching lab gear she needed, and they were improvising. It was fun.

"Wednesday afternoon, Very little classroom work for the pupils." Davinia explained, calling for the knocker-at-the-door to enter. "They send me people about now for one reason or another."

The pupil was about twelve or thirteen and, Bernadette realised, around her own height. She had a quiet demure demeanour to her and looked innocent as all get-out. Bernadette remembered girls like that at school. They'd been Hell-raisers.

"Please, miss. Madame Emmanuelle sent me. She thinks you can find me some work to do."

"The cause, Miss ben-Divorah-Bechstein?" Davinia inquired. Her voice had a "We have been here before" unsurprised quality about it. The girl held out a note from her housemistress. Davinia read it, and tutted.

"You need to be kept away from trouble, I see." she remarked. "Well, you can be our lab assistant for a while. Till we finish."

Davinia nodded towards a sluice sink full of used lab glassware.

"You can start by thoroughly washing and cleaning that lot. It saves us having to do it as we go. And do wear gloves. Some of those chemical residues could be harmful!"

"Yes, miss." the girl said. She was scrutinising Bernadette. Intently. Bernadette felt uncomfortable. This was not the usual sort of twelve-year old. She was in a High School for Assassins.

"And try not to stare." Davinia said. "Doctor Rostenkowski-Wolowitz is a fellow researcher, not from our Guild, who has been granted access to Guild labs for joint research. That's all you need to know."

"Yes, miss." the girl said again. "I'm just wondering why her axe is on the wrong side and the wrong way round for a quick draw."

Bernadette winced. She'd forgotten about the ax slung on her back. You kind of got used to it after a while. The weight settled and it was no worse than wearing a backpack. And if the way she was wearing it was wrong and it got noticed. Especially by a trainee Assassin…

She remembered her cover story.

"Hey, I was born human." she said, with absolute truth. "I'm learnin' this Dwarf stuff as I go. Not really started lessons, yet."

"You talk like Miss de Pasadéne." the girl remarked. "The one who helps out in Domestic Science. I was in her class. You're Acerian. Are we getting new teachers from Aceria?"

"Take the axe off?" Davinia asked. "Funny how you hardly notice. It goes with the chain-mail, I suppose. And, miss ben-Divorah-Bechstein, less curiosity and more washing of glassware, if you please!"

"Hey, that's the name in the cloak I got loaned!" Bernadette said, remembering. She studied the girl. Who was a little shorter than she was, by maybe half an inch. Okay, only twelve and maybe due to grow a bit. But not many people are shorter than me. Dwarfs excepted.

Davinia shook her head, but without anger or censure. The girl made to move to the sluice-sink.

"You know why you're here, of course. Detention for misbehaviour."

"Yes, miss." the girl said, with seeming submission. Something about her attitude said this was familiar ground for her. And for her teachers.

"Madame Deux-Epées believes in making the punishment fit the misdeed. As you displayed such a curiosity concerning the applied use of chemicals, she believes this department is the correct one to send you to for remedial chores. Just be thankful you came to me, and not to Mr Mericet."

"Believe me, miss, I'm thankful." The girl said, with the tiniest of shrugs. Bernadette realised she was making an effort not to make it a really big expressive shrug. It seemed so familiar from somewhere…

"So, err, what did you do, hon?" Bernadette found herself asking. She'd been in after-school detention too, many years ago. She felt common ground here and some sympathy. The girl shrugged again.

"Do explain, miss ben-Divorah." Davinia prompted her.

"Gevalt." The girl said. "Pamela Eorle was getting annoying. Again. I knew which cubicle she uses in the privvies. Everybody has their habits, right? Everybody picks their Spot? So in alchemy we'd been taught about why to wear latex gloves and masks and to wash your hands after handling some chemicals, and what they do if they get into places you wouldn't want them to go, like mucous membranes. So I got some lauryl sulphate. Sprinkled it on the privy seat she uses. Dosed the toilet paper with it."

Bernadette felt her legs closing tightly and protectively and she winced.

"Ouchie…" she said. A chemical irritant. Applied… there. Ouch.

"Matron Igorina worked it out. She told Madame Emmanuelle. Oi vey. So I'm here."

"Full marks for ingeniously applied nastiness. It shows you pay attention in your lessons, anyway. Also, a detention." Davinia said. The girl smiled.

"Worth it. Satisfying." she said. She smiled slightly.

"Err.. let me know when you want the cloak back." Bernadette said.

Rivka considered this.

"It's my spare one. No hurry. Two dollars a week rent. I'll sell it to you for eight."

"Miss ben-Divorah. You know full well a standard School-uniform cloak only costs five dollars fifty, new." Davinia said. "I should know. I've got two sons here."

The girl shrugged.

"So you have to make a profit." she said. And there it was again… Bernadette now felt she could make a shrewd guess as to her ethnicity. And maybe her religion.

Davinia shook her head.

"You know, you really don't help much in dispelling the cultural stereotypes other people have concerning Cenotians." she remarked.

"So I'm good with money, like to turn a profit, and I do my best to get out of Wednesday afternoon compulsory sports as everybody knows Cenotians don't do sports." she said, shrugging. "Can I help it if that's my personality? Gevalt."

Bernadette realised. Today was Wednesday. The girl had deliberately pulled a detention, given an annoying classmate a painful embarrassing itch, let herself be caught – and escaped gym class. To light duties in the dry and warm, supervised by one of the more sympathetic teachers. Result, result, result. She felt she was in the presence of a particular kind of genius. She kinda liked this gal.

"Just wash the glassware, miss ben-Divorah." Davinia said, resignedly.

"Doctor Rostenkowski-Wolowitz, the next step might be to filter the liquid and remove the carrying solvent, leaving only the powdered chemical?"

"Yes, but it'll only be at about ninety percent purity, so we need to refine further.."

They worked on together. Davinia explained about herself.

"My doctorate is in botany and plant biology. But knowing about all the plant essences which are used in pharmacy, I became interested in identifying, isolating and refining the active components that make them work as medicines. How to start with beech bark, for instance, or willow leaves, and to eliminate all the things that aren't needed, getting to the one or two active chemicals that are so good for headaches."

Bernadette grinned.

"Sure. Acetylsalicylic acid. Aspirin. Got you. So you guys start with beech bark and get it from there? Wanna find out another way?"

Bernadette started to explain how to get to make sodium salicylate, then to treat it with acetyl chloride, so as to produce acetylsalicylic acid without needing to begin with beech bark or willow leaves. Alkaline hydrolysis. Davinia listened intently. As did the Guild student who had been assigned to dogsbody work in the labs to keep her out of trouble. And to evade Wednesday Afternoon Sports.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork:

"Ankhuaman." Raj said, disbelievingly. He was looking through the Discworld comic books they'd bought.

The guys were taking their ease in the communal living room they'd identified for themselves. And furnished. Johanna and Leonard had taken the Travelling Engine back to Caltech to recharge the laptop computers. Howard had so far not been able to improvise a way to generate electricity, so as to pass it through a step transformer and keep the computers charged here. He could do it, he said, but it would take weeks and enough equipment, some of it jury-rigged with all that implied, to fill a whole room. He was wondering if some sort of solar power might work. Get an array of photovoltaic plates up on the roof and pass the energy through inverters and transformers and meters down into the house. Bring the gear here from California that we need. Sunlight is the same on this planet. You gotta start somewhere, if you want electricity quickly from zero.

Johanna had pointed out that this was Ankh-Morpork, and you want a system depending on adequate sunlight to generate reliable power? Good luck.

Leonard also wanted to back-up their research findings onto computers there. Ponder had asked for this to be kept completely secure, password-protected, and off the main Caltech net. Leonard agreed this was wise, and had suggested it be presented, if anybody found it accidently, as research notes designed to give scientific credibility to a science-fiction novel. You know. Label it as fiction so nobody thinks we've gone out of our minds or looks any closer. An entertaining intellectual game. Kinda.

And both had academic things to do there. Johanna needed to take a class or two, and Leonard needed to be seen in his research labs. It was agreed this was necessary. Ponder and Ruth also had to go back for the same reasons. Ponder was actually drawing a salary, in US dollars, from Caltech. He felt this was morally right. If he was being paid it was necessary to justify the salary his other employer was paying him. Johanna was only an unpaid intern; she had more freedom. Although she still had students there to mentor and lessons to deliver. Besides, she wanted to see the Los Angeles City Zoo, for professional reasons. She was going with a group of her Caltech students.

She and Ponder had discussed the longer-term situation and reluctantly agreed that living on two worlds pretty much simultaneously was something they couldn't do for ever. They loved California. But Home was the Discworld. Johanna had pointed out her academic contract, such as it was, was renewable by the semester. She felt she could invent a family crisis that meant she would have to return to South Africa and, alas, leave Caltech.(2) Ponder thought he might have to see the whole academic year out there. But the end of the summer semester was a few months away. He thought that was manageable. Ruth was keen on doing it properly and getting a Roundworld M. Sc, just for the experience of it. A Masters Degree was always useful.

Also, they'd be ageing twice as fast as everyone else around them on the Disc. If a year on Roundworld could pass in a few apparent hours or days on the Disc, that would eventually get pretty noticeable too. Objective time still bit down hard on the individual concerned, however they manipulated time spent on two worlds. Individually, they'd still get older at the same inexorable rate. It could not go on for ever. This also applied to the Caltech gang, but in the other direction.

Not that the Caltech guys seemed worried.

Raj was disbelievingly talking about a superhero who lived in an underwater Fortress of Solitude underneath the river Ankh and performed acquatic deeds of heroism and bravery. Ponder and Ruth, Ruth especially, were wondering how that one would play out in real life. Ruth considered the underwater fortress and den would dissolve, at least. And Ankhuaman himself would have to look like a combination of Swamp Thing and a Klatchian Migratory Bog Truffle to survive the river. Not a smooth and well-contoured humanoid with attractively fishy features. Marine life in the Ankh was more basic than that. It followed on that a superhero living in the Ankh would have a different sort of mutation. And he wouldn't be so selfless. If anyone needed rescuing, a local superhero would produce a price-list first and an itemised invoice afterwards. Prompt payment appreciated, hell, why don't we go to the Royal Bank right now?

"Just Aquaman." Raj said. "Totally lame anywhere."

"Ah-huh." said Howard. He was slightly subdued, having been told by Ruth and Johanna exactly how near he'd come to bodily injury. Fortunately Miss Alice Band had apparently been amused, once the surprise had worn off and Johanna had frantically explained about Howard not being up to speed with local convention or even concepts like basic self-preservation. Apparently Johanna, backed up by Alice, had persuaded the local comic-book guys to loan out a galley proof of their projected Laredo Cronk – Tomb Excavator comic. Johanna had suggested it go, under her supervision, to a suitably interested focus group who could read the comic and come back with critical reviews that would help the artist and scriptwriter revise and streamline the content. It also gave Alice a chance to make critical input about her representation. Dibbler Comics and Big Dave had seen the wisdom of this and given in.

Howard and the guys now had the proofs. They were appreciating them. At length. Reassured that they were occupied and likely to stay out of trouble, Ruth had gone to round up a useful student Assassin or two on the dog-walking rota and to take Kaffee and Crème out for walkies. Walkies for two big dogs necessarily took time.

"So Bernadette's a Dwarf over here." Howard said, changing the subject.

"Yeah. She looks good." agreed Raj. "Even with the beard."

"Even with the beard." Howard agreed. He'd been alarmed at first. Till she'd explained it was fake, a chin-wig. There hadn't been any sort of magic that had turned her Dwarf or anything like that, Howie. Just the clothes. Hell, she was going to be taking lessons. Cheery Littlebottom was introducing her to somebody who teaches Dwarf language and culture. Sounds like fun.

The beard had added a new dimension to other things as well. They got a shared room over here. Howard and Bernadette appreciated that. The others politely pretended they weren't listening.

Sheldon Cooper, grumpily accepting that without a laptop this was downtime, scowled. He was uneasily fidgeting in what he had claimed as his Spot. Although Howard had snarkily expressed the opinion that in a place inside a multidimensional tesseract, how could he be so sure? His Spot could be anywhere and nowhere. Or else, somewhere way out in the fifth dimension of space and time.

"I will not dignify that with an answer." he said. "At least, not till I've done the math. But may I draw your attention to our findings concerning voids and anomalies within this building structure? Doctor Dinwoodie and I are of the opinion that even after mapping out the internal relationships of the known building, there are going to be whole rooms and corridors here which are currently invisible and perhaps inaccessible at present. Doctor?"

The Bursar was standing by, placidly. Ponder Stibbons noted his eyes were getting slightly unfocused and had taken on a familiar glassy look. He sighed resignedly.

"That's what the camels in the Zoo told me!" he proclaimed. "You Bloody-Minded Bastard said it was all down to understanding the polynomials! Mister Thribble doesn't trust the fnords!"

Ponder shook his head and went to the Bursar to rummage in his pockets. He found several little brown bottles and rattled them. At least three were of Roundworld manufacture and most carried a brand logo beginning with "Z".

"Dried frog pill, or…. " he stumbled over the name, "Flupentixol decanoate thioxanthene?"

Sheldon frowned. "Depixol? But that's banned in the USA! However did Bernadette get hold of that?"

"Don't ask, Sheldon!" Howard said. "Just… don't ask."

The Bursar unerringly opted for depixol and took two, holding his hand out trustingly.

"It may be perfectly alright for Europeans, but the Food and Drugs Administration banned this drug in the United States for a reason…"

"Can it, Sheldon."

Sheldon frowned disapprovingly. "Anyhow. As I was saying. If you can bear to put down the comic books, I believe we now have an unparalleled opportunity to test the mathematics here. Howard's mere mechanical exploration of this building can only get us so , and is laborious and time-consuming. By virtue of my superior intellect, I can confidently predict where to look for the hidden realities of this apartment block. I am therefore calling for volunteers to go and look."

Amy Farrah-Fowler had returned from Biers, buoyed up on several strong drinks and the ego-boost of Igor's attraction to her. Not that she'd act on it, of course, and he was almost as strange as Sheldon and probably not in a nice way. But hey, male admirers didn't come so easy for her. Angua had delivered her home and had gone on with Lucy to do something which was not entirely human. Werecreature stuff. Anyway, Angua had promised to look after her and bring her home later. Amy had accepted it was best not to follow, and had returned to Empirical.

"What did you have in mind, Sheldon?" she inquired.

"That we form a party and explore."

He frowned. "Something's missing. I can't tell for sure what it is.."

There was a familiar voice from outside the window, calling "Hey, guys!" from outside. Sheldon smiled.

"On cue."

Howard went to let Penny into the building. She didn't trust Empirical Crescent and was reluctant to go anywhere inside it on her own. She had expressed the thought she might never get out again.

"It's stable." Howard assured her. "I did wonder if things might shift a bit and everything might kinda change. But far as we can tell, it's consistent. If this corridor links to this room today, it won't suddenly switch the rules on you, and lead to somewhere else tomorrow. We think, anyway."

"You think." Penny said, flatly.

Ruth N'Kweze was with her, as were the dogs. She had steered Walkies round to the fast-developing Cheesecake Factory and collected Penny, who had happily joined them for an escorted walk around the City, her work there pretty much done for the day. Penny had left winding things down at work to the selected factory manager (3), and grabbed her coat. At the corner of Empirical Crescent, she had paid off the two students on the walkies rota with fifty pence each, and suggested they went to a café or a coffee shop on her. Ruth did not want the complications of dragging two School students into the situation, and did not invite them in. Losing students, be it to a knife-throwing accident, a fall whist edificeering, or perhaps by having them fall into a trans-dimensional anomaly, was held to be careless, and generated Paperwork.

.So what's the idea, Sheldon?" Ruth asked.

Penny looked suspiciously at him. Sheldon's last spontaneously bright idea had sent Johanna into her own personal past by a week and doubled her up. The one before that had led to a joyride on an uncontrollable spacecraft with Penny, and briefly stranded them on the Moon. Then through a wall of some poor guy's house in New York. She wasn't keen on a third.

Sheldon explained.

"Well. We got Scooby-Doo." Howard said, looking at the dogs. "A choice of Scooby-Doos. And we got The Case of the Lost Artist's Studio to solve."

He looked at Amy and Penny and grinned slightly. His mouth opened.

"You freakin' well dare." Penny said. "'Sides, I don't do minidresses."

"Neither do I." Amy said. People looked at her.

"You got a big baggy roll-neck jersey?" Raj asked her. "You know, that kind of makes Sheldon into Shaggy. Shame Zak's not here and we'd have our Fred!"

"We got Ponder." Penny said. She smiled at him. Ponder blushed slightly. As far as he could tell they wanted to go exploring. He wondered about the referents. Did it tie into that mysterious thing about a Velma Dinkley? He vaguely remembered talk about a cartoon character. But best he went. He had some useful equipment, and it was beginning to look as if he'd be the Only Sane Man. Well. Apart from Penny. Having her there was oddly reassuring. And he'd seen the Faculty blunder into potentially and actually dangerous situations. It wasn't as if he didn't have experience.

"Okay. So what have you got in mind, Sheldon?" Ponder asked.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Assassins' Guild School, Filigree Street.

Bernadette's day continued as a guest of the Assassins. Davinia Bellamy had said she'd spoken to a teaching colleague who was running a late afternoon class for a couple of hours. She'd obtained permission for Bernadette to tag along and join in. it wasn't Guild-sensitive, after all, and involved no sensitive information or skills leaking out.

Unsure as to what was going to happen, and having been reminded to remember her ax, she was led to a small courtyard between the buildings where Davinia said some skills training was administered. She had joined a group of Guild pupils of various ages and had been introduced. Apparently this was an optional Wednesday class which pupils could take as an alternative to field sports; it was held to be acceptable exercise and a useful skills-set to be introduced to.

She noted the pupils were dressed in padded protective clothing and had been issued helmets. And all had axes. Her Dwarf clothing was drawing stares and, she realised, a little respect; she was the only one present in full mail.

"Errr… are you teaching the class, sir?" one student asked, respectfully. "Or assisting Miss Bjórksdottir?" Bernadette was flummoxed, wondering about the "sir", (4) and realising she stood out there, in a group of pupils aged thirteen-to-sixteen. But the common denominator was axes…

And then the small determined-looking Dwarf turned up, small, broad, and with a face that was almost all black bushy beard, albeit with a certain trimmed and coiffured vibe going on. The Dwarf was in full armor and helmet and carried axes. And the pupils leapt to respectful attention. The Dwarf saluted them with his… their… her?... ax. The pupils saluted back with theirs. Belatedly realising, Bernadette fumbled drawing hers and imitated the salute as best she could, slightly later than the rest. The teaching Dwarf, who wore a purple sash over the chain mail, shouted something in a language that made Yiddish sound like a gentle caress, full of gutturals and rhoticity. Bernadette wondered if it had something in common with the Afrikaans Johanna spoke; it seemed to use the same sort of parts of the throat to articulate itself. Then the tutor walked over to Bernadette and bowed slightly.

"You are the d'harak-zhadrahka I was requested to begin teaching? Welcome. And don't look so worried. I know you're starting from scratch. Welcome to my class in the Way of the Axe, and here you address me as Grag. Sound the word with me. Thank you. My name is Bjórk Bjórksdottir, by the way. I teach here in Dwarf Language, Culture, Axes, Dwarf Opera Singing, and Baking. I will refresh my class in the basics. Seek to stand as they stand, move as they move, act as they act. But observe me, to see it done properly. If you prove worthy, I may give you a Dwarf name. One suitable for a student of the Way."

Bernadette was pleasantly surprised to discover no actual fighting happened. It was a sort of tai chi, with axes. It was oddly pleasant and, she discovered, helped her get into the weight, feel, and balance of the ax Cheery Littlebottom had lent to her. Afterwards, the teacher approved of her performance and said that she also taught Dwarf Language. She felt Bernadette would need to learn some for the purposes of her stay in Ankh-Morpork, and hoped to see her again.

"You are staying at Empirical Crescent, I hear? I can get in touch with you through Doctor Smith-Rhodes or Miss n'Kweze. A pleasure to meet you!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Okay." Ponder said. "This is called a thaumic tracker." He held the small square dark metal box up for inspection. "If there's a mystery as to where we end up, this machine will help resolve it. If anything goes wrong, HEX can home in on it and find us. Are you there, HEX?"

++Present.++ HEX confirmed. ++take care with the omniscope, as it allows for direct contact."

Ponder checked the omniscope fragment was carefully stowed. He nodded at Sheldon, who was standing by a blank length of wall. There was apparently nothing there other than old peeling wallpaper.

"Assuming you're correct." Howard said. "You and the Bursar both. If there is something here that's hidden from view in the usual three dimensions. How do we find it?"

Sheldon Cooper frowned at the blank wall. "That is what we are here to find out. But the mathematic does not lie. This is very definitely the point in space-time where a hidden space should branch off from three-dimensional reality. The logic of the equations demands it."

"Can magic help, Ponder?" Amy asked. "I hear it works here."

Ponder thought, and tried a spell. The one that stripped away illusion and showed the world as it really was. Just for an instant something shimmered in the air and then faded. A shirt button popped into the air from somewhere and rolled away, unheeded.

"Something happened." Penny remarked. She was still captivated by the thought there might be a million bucks worth of long-lost art stashed away in this block, if only they could find it. It was a big incentive.

"Let me try some magic." She stepped forward and walked straight at the wall where the shimmering had happened. There was a flash that Leonard and Ponder recognised as octarine. And Penny disappeared. A frozen second later, her head and one arm emerged from the wall. She smiled happily.

"Whaddyaknow" she said. "It's another of those portal things."

"Err." Ponder said, surprised. "How did you know?"

"Well, it was predictable by the equations." Sheldon said, sniffily. Another Einstein -Rosen bridge. Obvious."

Penny, or at least her seemingly disembodied head and shoulder and right arm, smiled serenely.

"He wasn't talking to you, Moonpie. Ponder, sweetie. Different sort of magic. Platform nine and three-quarters. Isn't that obvious?"

And the guys, two girls, and two very large dogs, went to explore a secret passage in a house thought to be haunted.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) Yes. I know. Read it as one of those variations between Earth and Discworld. Davinia related to compounds of sulphur as sulphates. Bernadette thought of compounds involving sulfur as sulfates. They had the same thing going concerning aluminium and aluminum compounds. They'd decided to be relaxed on the spelling as the things they were spelling were more important than the grammar used. But when they got onto Roundworld painkillers, Bernadette would frown with perplexity at mention of "paracetamol". She was up to speed on what acetaminophen is, however. Lots of British and Irish people have visited the USA and searched, in vain, for paracetamol on the drugstore shelves. Frustrating when you have a headache. Sometimes they discover what Americans know as acetaminophen (1:1) does the job every bit as well…

(1:1) It goes under a whole rafter of trade names… Aceta; Aspirin-Free Pain Relief; Aspirin-Free Anacin Maximum Strength; Dapacin; Fem-Etts; Genapap; Genapap Extra Strength; Genebs; Genebs Extra Strength; Mapap Regular Strength; Mapap Extra Strength; Maranox; MedaCap; MedaTab; Panadol; Tapanol Regular Strength; Tapanol Extra Strength; Tylenol Caplets; Tylenol Tablets 325 mg; Tylenol Regular Strength; Tylenol Extra Strength. In the USA, anything except paracetamol. Americans in British pharmacies have been similarly baffled and frustrated.

(2) Not a great stretch. Johanna's family was one that generated lots of crises. Although they tended to happen to other people. The Smith-Rhodes family was like that.

(3) A Mrs Elizabeth Crocker of Dimwell, with extensive experience of commercial baking.

(4) If you're in doubt, and you will be, the courtesy thing is that all Dwarfs are "sir" unless they tell you it's otherwise.

Notes Dump:

That place for non-linear discontinuities, things and concepts which will prove the essential truth of the Copenhagen Interpretation and which, in the manner of waves and particles projected through a slit, might impinge on either the past or the present of the tale or multiple alternate-universe versions thereof. Odd stray thoughts with no immediate relevance to the tale at hand, but which need to go down somewhere lest I forget.

Tvtropes: "Cthulhu fhtagn" has been filked to the tune of "Hakuna Matata". I want to hear this song.

The whole fascinating history of how chemistry evolved from having to refine chemicals from plant extracts for all uses, including pharmaceutical, (because there simply wasn't any alternative), to a state where as often as not you can synthesise your drugs in the lab and bypass natural starting points completely. Although even today it's sometimes easier and cheaper to harvest and refine plants for chemical processing, or there still isn't an alternative.

I see Discworld biochemistry (Davinia) as still being in the pre-organic chemistry phase – although moving forwards and beginning to see other routes – whilst Earth biochemistry (Bernadette) has largely gone past this. But Bernadette is learning too, and rediscovering old skills that her own training only touched upon in passing. Meeting of like minds going on here. All to do with the Grand Design: say the first colony ship lands on a new planet with a finite supply of drugs and chemicals, and needs the skill-set among the colonists not only to identify local sources, but to have the skills to refine and process them in useful ways. If you don't have people who can identify useful alien plants and refine them – you're in trouble. A society used to ordering off-the-shelf chemicals and lab equipment will be at a disadvantage here, and needs to get back to basics, quickly. Bernadette's training in Discworld alchemy may, two centuries down the line, be critical for success. As well as visits to the Botany Department and getting to know plant life that simply does not exist on Earth – and yes, this takes us back to the Voynich Manuscript, and the real reason why it baffled Earth minds for so long…

The "Guidelines for Evil Empresses". Wonderful and could so easily be adapted as Concordat protocols for Lady Assassins… there are 59 rules. These are a selection.

I will wear flats, or better yet, running shoes when executing crucial plans.

My slinky sorceress' robe will have a chain mail foundation garment, at minimum.

I will wear breakaway clothing whenever risking capture. It will facilitate escape if I am grabbed, and it will distract the captor (but not me) for those crucial seconds it will take me to either escape or steal his own weapon.

I will wear form-fitting clothes rather than flowing gowns: they're just as, if not more, flattering and are less likely to snag on something or catch fire at the moment of triumph or escape.

If I require my Hag or Crone to poison someone, I will require the poison be quick and deadly rather than a mere sleep aid.

My Amazon Hordes will either be dyed-in-the-wool lesbians or have a nice pool of suitable comely men of their liking at home.

My Amazon Hordes will wear full body armor, rather than three small triangles of chain mail, which are reserved for dress occasions.

Chapter 42: The optimal photovoltaic output

Wheeler-Bell 42:

The optimal photovoltaic output

And we're back… blimey, time flies. Long time since the last one and I needed a little break from Strandpiel. As always - first draft. Necessary reviosons to follow.


Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork

Howard Wolowitz was an engineer. He realised this meant practical work in assembling and testing systems, and that some of those systems then had to go into hard-to-reach places, like spacecraft and power plants. He preferred to do the systems testing and final assembly before they went into those hard-to-get-to and often inaccessible places, where they became somebody else's responsibility.

But sometimes, out in the field, there was simply no alternative…

He closed his mind to the long drop if he were to slip off the roof(1), and again checked the safety harness that, he fervently hoped, was anchored firmly to the chimney-stack.

Helping hands from inside the building, down underneath the open skylight, passed him another photovoltaic plate. With relief, Howard realised there were only another half-dozen to secure, and wire into the system. With all the other stuff they'd imported from California, Empirical Crescent would soon be wired up for electricity, manufactured on site without having to rely on supply runs to Caltech. Self-sufficient.

One of his two co-workers for the day, who Howard noted was completely at home up here, and who had learnt to use Roundworld power tools inside five minutes, helped him manipulate the large clumsy oblong slab of photovoltaic cells into place. Wiring led from its reverse face. As she secured it in place – and Howard wondered about how the Hell people who'd never done this sort of thing before could get so good at it, so quickly – he began connecting the wiring to the main branch and trunk cables. These led back down through the skylight to transformers, capacitors and and converters inside the building. From there, regular power cabling operating on good honest all-American 240v AC would power the sorts of useful devices Americans took for granted and felt deprived without.

Ponder Stibbons had got clearance for this: Empirical Crescent belonged to Unseen University, and Mr Ridcully – and Lord Vetinari – had taken the point of view that this could be viewed as an interesting and somewhat exciting practical experiment being carried out in what was, to all intents and purposes, a University test lab. Besides, the place had a rep. The rest of the city of Ankh-Morpork gave it a very wide berth. Installing solar power would add to the "keep well away" aura of weirdness the place had.

Howard had therefore spent a day or two sourcing and bringing over the necessary technology, aided by HEX, who had complained that he needed to send the best part of a ton of surplus Discworld mass to Earth to maintain the balance between the two planets. Howard had replied "Do whatever you have to, HEX." (2)

He sat back on the roof, feeling horribly exposed, not just by the height but by the presence of his two co-workers, both of whom seemed, fortunately, to be fairly well disposed towards him. It didn't help that despite the coolness of the day, Miss Alice Band had stripped off her outer tunic and was in a fairly figure-enhancing sleeveless vest. She justified this on the grounds of comfort and practicality. Howard's ability to focus on the job at hand was impaired by the undeniable fact he was working alongside a gal who was, to his eyes, the life model for Lara Croft. And then there was…

He closed his eyes as his other co-worker did a hand-stand right on the very roof-ridge. She was definitely at home at heights. Having been told by Alice what her gal-pal did for a living, he wasn't surprised. And she was another reason why he was being very careful about what he said. A gloomy inner Howard wondered if Miss Alice Band had set this up as some sort of a test. To see if he slipped up. He knew she'd had a long conversation with Johanna Smith-Rhodes after the incident at the Comic Shop. Howard was uncomfortably aware just how near he'd come. And he really, really, did not want to cross that line again. Penny had stopped at breaking his nose. Alice, he thought, would consider that just warming up. Likely, she'd skip the foreplay and do something more painfully educative.

He watched as the slim, wiry, boyish, woman with the long dark hair performed a somersault and landed lightly on her feet again. She was definitely showboating…

"Don't frighten him, Dolores." Alice said.

Dolores de Chiliconcarna y Fajitas y Cuidado de las Llamas de Gutierrez grinned a big happy grin. Up here, she was in her element.

"Nothiñg to be frighteñed about, Alice." she replied. Howard frowned. There it was again. That trace of an accent. He heard similar ones every day, in California. And she even looked…

"You're very quiet, Howard." Dolores said. "¿From what Alice said, I thought it was the Ghatian one, Raj, who was mute arouñd women?"

"Well, ma'am…" Howard paused. If he did have a skill outside engineering, he was fast to pick up languages. He reassembled a few words in his head.

"Umm… ¿Señora? ¿Usted habla español?" he frowned for a moment. Howard wondered if his guess had been wrong. But Johanna had a few words. So something like Spanish must be spoken on this planet? And if this gal didn't speak it…

"Si, hablo toledaña. Es mi primer idioma. Pero, ¿de qué es este español del que hablas?" she replied.

There was a moment of confusion. Alice said something to her gal-pal in fast Spanish. Howard caught a few phrases in the back-and-forth – it's different on his world... I'm not sure. Toledan maybe has a different name there… they speak Morporkian. Johanna's language is spoken there. I mean, one world is enough for Vondalaans…

"Ah. Claro que si." Dolores said. "¿Howard, speak to me of your world? In Morporkian, if your Toledan doesn't go that far. Gracias."

"Well, ma'am…"

He spoke about California and how there was a neighbouring country and how everyone in California, or at least southern California, gets to speak a little Spanish. It was inevitable.

Dolores and Alice listened. Dolores grinned.

"Just call me Dolores." she said. "Not ma'am or señora. Not usted. Use "tú". Gracias.".

"So. California has a next-door country. That speaks this español. Which on this world is called Toledan." Alice said.

"And lots of these people called Mexicans live and work in your California." Dolores said. "Speak this español to me again, Howard? Anything."

She listened as Howard recited a few stock phrases in Spanish. Dolores nodded.

"Thought so. On this world that's a Tezuman accent in Toledan. Interesting."

"But your accent isn't Mexican, ma'… Dolores." Howard said. It was a relief to be talking about this and not the other thing. Howard sensed that was at-least-a-broken-nose territory. "To me, it kinda sounds like you're from further south than that. You meet them sometimes, folk from South America. Their Spanish is different."

"I'm not a Tezuma. And they only speak Toledan from where they have contact with other countries, like mine. I'm from Paraquat. That's further to the Rimwards, and because we were a Toledan colony, we all speak the Toledan language."

"There's a place called Paraguay in South America." Howard said.

Alice looked intent.

"There it is again. Correspondences to the Roundworld. Interesting." she remarked.

Dolores described Paraquat. Jungles at one end, where it bordered Tezuma. A lot of mountains. Where people grew up with a head for heights. She came from the mountains. And plains at the other, called pampas, which shaded into Aceria.

"Big country. Lots of variety." she explained. Howard listened to her explanation. It sounded as if the whole of South and Central America was neatly covered in one package. Cool.

"But this isn't getting the job doñe." she said, standing up. "You were right, Alice. ¡This is really iñteresting!"

Dolores lifted the power-drill again. She looked at it thoughtfully, then grinned at Howard.

"Come on, Howard. Get it off your chest. We woñ't take offence. I don't ñeed to be a magic-user to see you're achiñg to say it. About how lesbiañs are really good with constructioñ añd heavy tools añd heavy lifting."

"You'd be surprised how often we hear that one. Or perhaps not. Some things are universal." Alice Band agreed. "Or maybe multiversal." She called down through the skylight.

"Leonard? Bernadette? Raj? Break's over. There are a couple of dykes up here who need some more big heavy things to exercise our muscles on. And everybody knows lesbians appreciate a workout and really love construction work. Thanks!"

Alice turned to Howard. She smiled tolerantly.

"Look, ask anything you want. Frankly, I'm finding it quite painful that you're trying agonisingly hard not to cause any offence, so you end up saying nothing. If it's offensive, we'll tell you so. But we won't throw you off the roof for it if it's a honest slip. Really. We want you to know what's appropriate and what isn't, and you don't get to learn if you're a red bloody smear on the ground. Up here, consider it a free shot."

"Besides, she likes your wife." Dolores said. "I like your wife. She's okay."

"And Johanna asked me to go easy and be considerate. And if possible to educate you a bit." Alice added. "Aren't you lucky she's one of my oldest friends?"

Elsewhere in the building, an Expedition was happening. As some things are mandated by causality, it involved two men, two women, and in this case two big dogs. Sheldon Cooper, Ponder Stibbons, Amy Farrah-Fowler and Ruth N'kweze, accompanied by what Amy had described as a brace of Scooby-Doos, were exploring the really weird spaces of Empirical Crescent. Amy, who in many ways was making the most practical sense of the Discworld, thought that having a Wizard and a professional fighting woman in the party was kinda appropriate. She wished Lucy was here: Lucy had been taken as a Discworld Thief by fellow-professionals as she looked the part and to them, had amazing trade skills. Amy gathered that Lucy's talent for concealment and something described as breaking-and-exiting had gained her praise from people who recognised and valued such talent.

A fighter, a Thief and a Wizard. Gave it a different vibe from Scooby-Doo.

And the dogs. Johanna's two huge Ridgebacks, as a canine component. Friendly big guys, but Amy guessed if there was a need they'd go the other way, very quickly. These were, after all, Johanna's dogs. Bred in this world's Africa for hunting down lions, she had said.

Currently Kaffee and Crème were leading the way, sniffing things out, acting as the expedition's equivalent of canaries in a coal mine. Ruth was leading and commanding them. They responded to her commands. Apparently, this was rare. Ruth had said the set-up here, in their part of this world's Africa, was like South Africa in the apartheid times. Big dogs owned by white people tended to respond badly to folk with black skins. Ruth said these dogs had grown up with her and other black people and were colour-blind. But if she ever saw Ridgebacks that weren't Kaffee and Crème, she was inclined to be very wary indeed.

The Effing Forest, near Ankh-Morpork

Lucy blinked in the watery sunlight. She felt well outside her comfort zone. None of the gang were here. Nor was the reassuring Johanna or the cheerfully capable Ruth. She was on her own here, among a group of people who had gathered in the pre-dawn chilly gloom, with barely a word being said apart from nods of recognition and mutual understanding, a group of normal-seeming people who got together every fortnight or so for an unspecified purpose. Angua von Überwald was one of them. Apparently she'd swung it with her commanding officer that this was one of her recognised police duties, so this was cop time, and she was being paid for it. Angua described it as community outreach.

Lucy was still in two minds about the blonde policewoman. Especially after the circumstances of their first meeting. She liked Angua. There was something of the same strength and reassuring sympathy about her that she responded to in Penny and Johanna and Ruth. And which Lucy envied in people like Penny and Johanna and Ruth.

Angua had brought her here, telling her it would be alright and for the best. These were all people who knew. And for one very good reason, none of the others could join them. These were people with a common link. One thing in common. Which you share. You'll see.

Lucy had felt she was being appraised, currently on the other side of full admission to a select club, not yet one of the in-crowd. But they'd all got into a carriage of the freaky old-time steam train when it chugged into the station, which stank of coal and steam and soot.

Lucy had carefully scrutinised her new companions. She knew Tony, the good-looking black African guy she'd met in Biers. He was pleasant and friendly enough. There was a little fat guy with a German accent, who seemed grumpy and morose and put out about something. Angua talked to him in German and he replied in monosyllables. There was another black girl, short and wiry and spare in build, who sounded kinda Australian. And the huge guy with loadsa hair, who seemed to fill a carriage seat all on his own, who didn't talk at all. Another girl, build kind of oversize, kind of attractive, built big, dark brown hair. She'd brought a dog with her, Alsatian, kind of, who looked at her with disconcertingly intelligent eyes and made her feel uneasy. Then there was the Japanese girl, who laughed a lot and had a look of mischief about her. Lucy frowned. She looked sort of animé, manga, even. And the last of the girls in the party, red-haired and vaguely Scottish-Irish in look and manner. Apparently Morag was new here too but the rest were regulars. She'd met Angua a week or so before and Angua had said to her to come along.

And after a short walk from the station into the countryside when they'd arrived, carrying the food baskets they'd be eating from later. Lucy had been reassured about that, after being told this group gathered for a run in the countryside and an informal meal.

And it was nice out here. Sort of English-looking. Not an American landscape.

And she was glad it was secluded. On the banks of a small lake in the woods, Angua gathered everybody together and introduced the two new members, Morag and Lucy. She reminded them all of the rules. We all have a thing in common. We are here for mutual support and to help everybody else along. Regardless of where we are from or of previous issues between our peoples. Ankh-Morpork is neutral territory. Okay, shall we get ready?

Lucy had then cringed inside as the seriously big guy shrugged, doffed his backpack – he called it his bergan – and unconcernedly began to get undressed. After a few seconds, Tony, the black guy, started to undress.

The Japanese girl – no, they called it Agatean here, didn't they? – nudged Lucy. Her face was one huge amused grin.

"We have compensations, Lucy-chan." she said. "Like getting to see Tony and Bjorn with their clothes off."

In other circumstances Lucy might have appreciated this. Tony was a great-looking guy, in good shape. And Bjorn had the sort of build a lot of seriously big guys do: not fat as such, but well-rounded over what she knew would be serious muscle going on underneath. And he was hairy…

"I am Kitsune." the Japanese girl said, introducing herself. She was taking off her kimono, in a matter-of-fact way. Angua and the big gal, Ludmilla something, were also stripping. Lucy tried to put other thoughts out of her head about the sort of scenario where lots of guys and gals got naked together.

But everyone else was…

Lucy shared a look with Morag, the Scottish-looking one. They shared a shrug and began to strip.

"You can't take the clothes with you." Angua prompted them. "And it's best they're kept safe and guarded. Erich looks after that for us."

She nodded to the small fat morose-looking German guy with the slicked-back hair as if a lot of styling gel went on, who was remaining clothed, and wasn't showing much reaction to a group of good-looking girls getting naked in front of him. He seemed too lost in some sort of inner misery for that. Lucy wondered what was eating him; the others seemed to treat him with a sort of understanding kindness, as if he was the sort of guy with issues.

"It can get you into a lot of complications if your clothes get stolen. That happened to me a couple of times when I was new." Angua said. "Some people in this city will steal anything. Believe me."

Lucy noticed Morag, as she undressed, was looking at the water with a sort of longing, and a delicious anticipation of something she really wanted to do. Ah-huh. Maybe it starts with a bit of skinny-dipping…

Angua patted Morag on the shoulder. She seemed to be having the opposite reaction to a lot of water all in one place.

"Everybody to her own." she said, kindly. She added something to the morose Erich, who nodded back.

"Best you stay here with Erich? You'll see why. He doesn't like to Change in public."

Angua smiled at everyone. Lucy decided to go with it. She was butt-naked in public among a lot of strangers of both sexes. Lucy Winkle had said things like this happened in her life too…

"Let's wait for Tony. He's got to do something first…"

They politely waited as Tony, the African guy, took out a set of animal-fur anklets and bracelets, and a headband in the same material. Finally he donned a loincloth in the same fur. Then he chanted a call, sounded like a prayer, invoking some sort of God, Lucy supposed. Called Uncle-Uncle, sounded like. It was like one of the battle-calls those guys sang in that film, Zulu.

Angua tapped her on the shoulder. Everyone seemed quietly expectant, but they were turning away.

"You won't want to look closely during this part. Mainly good manners." she advised Lucy.

Lucy looked away. She heard a few muffled noises that suggested something was happening.

And then a large leopard had appeared where Tony had been standing…

"He needs to Change in a different way. We don't." Angua said, softly.

Lucy looked to where Erich, the German guy, was standing with arms folded and a sullen sort of look on his face. She took in the looks of expectancy on everyone else's faces. Ludmilla's big dog was bounding around her in excitement. They were looking to Angua for a lead, she realised…

"Okay, people. Let's Change." Angua said.

Then Lucy remembered how to do it. She didn't even need to think about it…

Baker Street, Ankh-Morpork.

"Hey, great work, guys!" Penélopé de Pasadène said to the line of workers who were filling pastry cases with piped filling mixes. In two or three weeks, the Cheesecake Factory really had got off the ground from nowhere and the formerly empty, silent and dusty manufacturing space was taking up a new life all of its own. Like all the others, Penny was living two lives, one on Earth and one on the Discworld; HEX had worked out a schedule, via the Travelling Engine, of taking them all back to Pasadena to keep their lives going there so that their absence would not be noted. Penny still had to put in her normal shifts at the Cheesecake Factory back home, after all. Or people would get suspicious and start seeing things that didn't add up. For the same reason, Johanna, Ruth and Ponder also needed to be seen at Caltech where they also had professional lives to lead.

Penny took in a long, satisfied, breath through her nose. The smell of cooking pastry competed with a dozen or so other pleasant scents in the air. In here, it almost obscured the ever-present all-pervading aroma of Ankh-Morpork.

But she was looking at fifty or so employees, mainly female, and mainly human, all of whom seemed happy, or at least contented, to be in here. And they all worked for her. This was new to Penny, a woman who all her life till now had been working for other people. And she liked it. It made the necessary thing, of commuting back to Pasadena and putting in a shift as a waitress, more irksome and restrictive. She wondered if she was growing out of that now.

Penny turned to the woman who was accompanying her. This was another example of the sort of person Penny was now filing as Somebody From Ankh-Morpork Who You'd Far Rather Have Batting On Your Team: brisk, efficient, impeccably dressed, alert, and holding a pencil and notepad, occasionally bringing them together to make double-dutch-looking shorthand notes.

"Guess you'd like to try out a coupla samples, huh, sweetie?" Penny said.

Sacharissa Cripslock, who had not been unaffected by the smells in the air, indicated consent. Journalists were not meant to be swayed by any sort of bribe or inducement. But Sacharissa took the point of view that you had to do the job properly, and if duty and a need to keep the reading public of the City properly informed on current affairs meant you had to test out the product being offered, well, then, duty called.

Penny took her by the arm and led her to the Managing Director's Office. She nodded to Mrs Elizabeth Crocker (from Dolly Sisters), the factory foreman, to get a couple of good samples to try. Mrs Crocker (3), who knew what was expected, asked if Ms Cripslock should have a complimentary package to take away, Miss de Pasadène?

Penny pretended to consider this, as if the thought had just occurred to her, and then said

"Hey, great idea!"

Penny was really enjoying running her own business.

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork

The exploring party had been moving down a seemingly endless corridor, longer than the inside of the building could reasonably contain in the usual way of time and space, trying and carefully checking side-doors and noting the positions of secondary corridors that branched off the main one. Ponder Stibbons had expressed caution, stressing that in his opinion they were inside a scaled-up version of the Cabinet of Curiosities, whatever the Hell that was, and those corridors could get recursive. To infinity.

The rest of the party had carefully noted the advice, and were heeding it, with the exception of Sheldon Cooper. Sheldon was being carefully steered by Ruth and Amy, and had agreed to marking and ticking off the side corridors. For now. They were also checking out the new doors and presumably the rooms behind them. Very carefully, Ruth insisted. She was emphatic about this.

Anyway, most of the doors appeared to be fakes, on close examination, just there as decoration to make the corridor look more regular, as if this was something it felt was expected of it. Adding an incongruous touch, the corridor walls in between rooms appeared to be carrying a layer of old tatty striped wallpaper, looking as if it had been applied and forgotten about up to thirty years previously. Ponder had said that wasn't the whole story: he thought these were doors in potentio, placemarkers for rooms that might develop later but were not actually there at the moment.

Amy frowned.

"This implies the place is alive and growing." she said. "I recall Johanna's lecture on what defines life and living things. That they grow and develop, with purpose."

Ponder had attended similar lectures too.

"But the purpose need not be a sentient one." he said. "As I understand Johanna, a lot of it is pre-programmed. Determined by genetics and environment. The growing thing need not be intelligent."

"Ontology recapitulates physiology." Amy agreed. "We are in, perhaps, a growing branch of an organism. These doors are its bud and the rooms, to extend the metaphor, are its flowers. And every growing plant must have its coleoptile. Its reach logically has to be finite."

"So if we find that growing tip. And periodically check to assess the extent and the speed of growth…" Ponder mused.

"If it is alive, what does it live on?" Sheldon mused.

"I wish you hadn't said that, Sheldon." Ponder said, after a pause.

Ruth looked thoughtful.

"I'm just wondering what sort of weedkiller we might need. If we had to." she said, thoughtfully.

They explored on. After a while they discovered a real door, that looked as if it might actually open…

The Effing Forest, near Ankh-Morpork

In the forest, on a cold grey morning, anyone who might have been watching would have witnessed a sight to confuse and perplex a naturalist.

Three wolves were running in the company of a small deer (or perhaps a gazelle), a very large bear, a small nimble red fox, a leopard, and a kangaroo. These were not species that would normally associate together, except in the minds of authors of a certain sort of fiction for undiscerning small children.

The interspecies pack ran on together, the three wolves and the fox taking it in turns to act as an advanced scout, checking the way was clear for the others. Angua had said to avoid something the were community described as a mehum. (4) Their presence would only worry them, she said.

The deer was running easily with the others. She was learning that the four predator animals nearby were, in this case, friendly and there was nothing to fear. Angua had said to her that a small part of her mind would remain human but subordinate to the deer form. The trick was to keep hold of that as it gave you an advantage, in were-shape, that a true gazelle, or in her case a wolf, would lack. The small part that remained Lucy was enjoying the ride and thinking things like Hey, seriously cool! While the gazelle-mind, or possibly the deer-mind, was appreciating the different range of sensory inputs, and trying not to get too hung up about the nearby presence of wolves and leopard. Deer knew wolves were a bad thing, and gazelles felt the same about leopards. But the overpowering odour was Bear, something deer were generally neutral about.(5) People tried to be understanding about it, but Bjorn had a body odour even as a human. Not the nauseating smell of neglect and infrequent washing, just something… well, you became aware of it if you shared, say, a railway carriage with the guy for an hour, one where you couldn't open any windows because of soot and smoke. The smell of Bear.

The Lucy-mind, moving through fog as if in a dream, had a memory of Kitsune's body-smell too. Not too much of one: the Japanese were a cleanly people who bathed a lot. Kitsune more than most. But her body smell, as a human, was definitely foxy. Kinda musk. Not unpleasant and she masked it with perfume.

Bjorn was this world's Swedish, or maybe Norwegian. He ran a business making furniture. Well, most likely Swedish, then. Kitsune was a diplomat at the Japanese Embassy. Well. Agatean. Tony was the same for his African county… Howondalandian.

The Lucy-mind produced a vision of the black gal with the flat grinning face, the frizzy hair and the wide nose. Her skin was blacker than Tony's. Lucy's guess had been right: Kizzi, whose real name was longer and hard to pronounce, was this planet's sort of Australian. And hey, kangaroos could move if they wanted to.

The party moved on. And somewhere behind them, two weres who couldn't easily move as fast as the others were doing their thing in and around the small lake and keeping an eye on everyone's clothes and stuff.

Baker Street, Ankh-Morpork.

"So. Cake made from cheese." Sacharissa Cripslock said. Penny beamed. This was what people inevitably said at this point in the conversation. She cut and plated a slice.

"Trust me, Krissie." Penny said. "Sweetie, you'll like this."

Sacharissa smiled. She liked this woman's easy informality. She even felt vaguely happy that Sacharissa had somehow become Krissie. She took a spoonful.

Some minutes later, the writer-of-news resurfaced.

"So. Whereabouts in Aceria did you say you're from?" she asked. Her mind was forming a story…

Miss Penélopé de Pasadène (25? 26?) from a little town called Pasadena in the Acerian state of Californicatia, is poised to revolutionise the world of desserts with the incredible, but simple and logical idea, of the cake made from cheese…

"Californicatia." Penny said, confidently. She liked the take on the name. It felt right.

"On the coast. Not quite bordering Genua." Sacharissa said, remembering her geography. "There's that one in between, isn't there? People colonising Kythia, and somehow making it work."

"Ah-huh." Penny said. She remembered a long late-night chat with Johanna Smith-Rhodes. Strong drink had been involved. Johanna had talked her through an atlas, so as to get her local cover story right. This Kythia (6) place had been, and probably still was, a hell-hole of swamps and insect-infested jungly wasteland full of 'gators and stuff, where nobody had lived before. But crazy people were trying to tame the place. According to Johanna, the heat, humidity and insects had contributed to making people lobster-red, cranky tempered, on the verge of insane, and pretty choleric. Florid, in fact. Kythia was now getting a new name, Land of the Florid People. But they were Acerian and therefore bloody-minded and proud of their town. The local name was Ammy. People who lived there proudly called it My Ammy in a proprietorial sort of way, and were committed to making it work. Johanna had said, jislaik, they probably will. But better them than me. Johanna had visited once, for professional reasons. She was very firm in her intention never to go back. Ever.

"Hey, why not take a coupla cheesecakes back with you?" Penny offered, at the conclusion of the interview. "Share them out among folk in the newsroom. You gotta have a food correspondent or a womens' pages editor? "

Penny loved what she was doing here. Getting the big local newspaper on side was something to take pleasure in, after all. Good free advertising. She wondered how the guys were getting on at Empirical.

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork

Ruth and Ponder conferred. Ponder measured the air with his thaumometer, and nodded. Then Ruth, standing to one side of the door, picked the lock.

She sighed and practically had to pull Sheldon back with some physical force.

"Caution, Sheldon!" she said. "We don't know what's in there. And haven't you noticed the dogs are holding back? They know."

Ruth drew her sword with one hand. She poinged a telescoping probe int its full length. Then she scooped the door fully open with the toe of here foot.

Everybody gasped. They were suddenly looking out into the void of a starry night. Blackness punctuated with pinpricks of light an unguessable distance away, Ruth carefully extended the probe, meeting slight resistance as it passed through the doorway.

"Invisible barrier of some sort." Ponder noted. "And also holding back the temperature on the other side. But not perfectly."

"Feels like a deep-freeze." Amy noted.

Ruth carefully swept the probe on the other side. It felt odd. Not behaving as it should… She frowned. A bloom of cold was forming on the side that projected into the void. And there was no floor there…then she realised, and hurriedly dropped the handle. The probe bounced on the sill of the doorway, rolled forward, overbalanced and was then floating up and away on the other side. Ruth thrust suddenly chilled fingers under her other arm to warm her fingers up, thankful she'd had the presence of mind to let go before that cold had got into her hand… the metal had conducted it back. Quickly.

"I'm getting pretty near absolute zero." Ponder said. "And complete vacuum."

He made a decision and kicked the door shut.

"I want this locked." he said. "And sealed."

"But that's deep space out there!" Sheldon said. "An unparalleled study opportunity.."

"Okay then." Ruth said. "Just step through and explore… I was being sarcastic, Sheldon!"

"I'm just glad some sort of barrier was there. At the interface." Amy said. She'd felt the chill too. "An absolute vacuum on that side. Normal atmospheric pressure on this."

Ponder winced. He'd have gone down, albeit very briefly, in Discworld history, as the man who allowed its atmosphere to be sucked off into a vacuum. And the consequent gale-force wind would have taken us all with it.

He breathed out.

"Nobody opens this door again. Nobody." he said. Amy took out a Sharpie pen, a bright red one, and wrote EXTREME DANGER! on the panels in big red letters.

Ruth studied her fingers. Only slight freeze-burn, and life was now returning to them. It could have been worse.

"That probe cost me eighteen dollars. They get made bespoke." she said, to nobody in particular.

"Add it to your expenses." Ponder said. Eighteen dollars wouldn't make a big difference. Not on top of several thousand.

The Effing Forest, near Ankh-Morpork

A circular route took the party of assorted weres back to the place where they'd left their clothes and the food hampers.

The Change back was again done on Angua's lead. Human Lucy marvelled at how easy it was getting. She wondered where Erich and Morag were. She could see some sort of aquatic animal making it back to shore, and hardly noticed the small duck waddling its fussy way out of the shadows, in that comically ineffectual-looking way that ducks had…

She noticed the swimming animal resolving itself into some sort of amphibious mammal. She thought it might be a seal of some sort, and understood why Morag had been ill-equipped to run with the others. But what sort of were was Erich?

"Do you speak any Überwaldean?" Angua asked.

"Err. German, right? No."

"He's called Erich von Wildente." Angua said. "From a clan that's as old as any werewolf family."

Angua took Lucy's hand.

"Or in Erich's case, perhaps a flock." she said. "He gets a bit, err, sensitive, about his were-state. Just so you know."

Lucy looked at the angry-looking duck again…

Empirical Crescent, Ankh-Morpork

Everybody got together in the evening. Alice and Dolores joined them in the big common room at Empirical, the one they'd set out as command centre and living room. They compared their days.

"You're being awfully slow about this, Ruth." Alice Band remarked. "Which really isn't you. So you're exploring hidden corridors and rooms which could present an as yet unquantified degree of danger. There may be hidden traps and perils. Somewhere, the needle in this haystack, is a lost artists' studio, which may have contents whose value could be estimated in the millions of dollars. This has been lost for up to thirty years, since the artist's death. We do not know what sort of traps he may have guarding it, except that we know Methodia Rascal was both insane and paranoid."

Alice smiled an excited smile.

"I want in on this. Ruth, Johanna, can I ask you which part of the phrase Stealth Archaeology are you failing to understand?"

Johanna reached out a hand. Alice took it.

"Well, that's settled, then!" Miss Alice Band said. Howard Wolowitz and the guys saw Lara Croft. Here. In the same room. Joining their team. Seriously cool.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(1) He was on the roof of Empirical Crescent, whichwhen seen from the outside, was notionally about a hundred feet above street level. However, he suspected the actual drop, were he to fall off, might be between six inches and infinity. It was one of those imponderables – there was no way of knowing, unless he actually fell. He was in no hurry to test this proposition empirically.

(2) Some largish meteorites were seen to impact at various remote points around Earth but were put down to" just one of those things" by the people who observed them.

(3) Penny had accepted that running a cake factory and getting somebody called Betty Crocker as her factory supervisor… well, in this crazy place, can you be surprised? Mrs Crocker had a lifetime of working in desserts and had been invaluable in getting the place up and running.

(4) An abbreviation used by the weres for mere human. Angua meant this to be descriptive and not dismissive. Carrot was a mehum, after all.

(5) You didn't seek bear out, if you were a deer, and you gave them a lot of personal space. But as a rule they didn't hunt or eat deer. Much. Just another neighbour with their own priorities in life.

(6) See The Compleat Discworld Atlas. Well, I've introduced several Acerian states. Why not the accepted and acclaimed Weirdest One In The USA? Kythia gets a three-word summary – Avoid Thyss Place.

Notes Dump:

That place for non-linear discontinuities, things and concepts which will prove the essential truth of the Copenhagen Interpretation and which, in the manner of waves and particles projected through a slit, might impinge on either the past or the present of the tale or multiple alternate-universe versions thereof. Odd stray thoughts with no immediate relevance to the tale at hand, but which need to go down somewhere lest I forget.

I need her full name to copy and paste.

Dolores de Chiliconcarna y Fajitas y Cuidado de las Llamas de Gutierrez (real name Doris O'Higginsnote Many Irish people were leaders of revolutions in South America. Bernardo O'Higgins, for one. Really true.)

A specialised Uberwaldean were: wild duck Wildente f
roast duck gebratene Ente, Entenbraten m