Unseen Academicals (18 page)

Juliet had explained this on the way down, although, of course, Juliet did not use the word ‘metaphorically’, it being several syllables beyond her range. There were battle-axes and war hammers, but all with that certain feminine touch: one war axe, apparently capable of cleaving a backbone lengthwise, was beautifully engraved with flowers. It was another world, and as she stood just inside the doorway looking around, Glenda felt relieved that there were other humans in the place. In fact, there were quite a few, and that was surprising. One of them, a young human woman with steel boots six inches high, gravitated towards them as if drawn by a magnet-and given the amount of ferrous metal on her body, a magnet was something she would never pass in a hurry. She was holding a tray of drinks.

‘There’s black mead, red mead and white mead,’ she said, and then
lowered her voice by a few decibels and three social classes. ‘Actually, the red mead is really sherry and all the dwarf ladies are drinking it. They like not having to quaff.’

‘Do we have to pay for this?’ said Glenda nervously.

‘It’s free,’ said the girl. She indicated a bowl of small black things on the tray, each one pierced with a cocktail stick, and said slightly hopelessly, ‘And do try the rat fruit.’

Before Glenda could stop her, Juliet had taken one and was chewing enthusiastically.

‘What part of a rat is its fruit?’ asked Glenda. The girl with the tray did not look directly at her.

‘Well, you know shepherd’s pie?’ she said.

‘I know twelve different recipes,’ said Glenda in a moment of rare smugness. This was actually a lie. She probably knew about four recipes because there was only so much you could do with meat and potatoes, but the glittering metallic grandeur of the place was getting on her nerves and she felt the need to stick up for herself. And then realization dawned. ‘Oh, you mean like traditional shepherd’s pie,’ she said, ‘made with the—’

‘I’m afraid so,’ said the girl, ‘but they’re very popular with the ladies.’

‘Don’t have any more, Jools,’ said Glenda quickly.

‘It’s quite nice,’ said Juliet. ‘Can’t I have one more?’

‘Just one, then,’ said Glenda. ‘That should even up the rat.’ She helped herself to a sherry and the girl, balancing carefully as she managed three different things with two different hands, handed her a glossy brochure.

Glenda glanced through it and knew her original impression had been right. This place was so expensive they didn’t tell you the price of anything. You could always be sure things were going to be expensive when they didn’t tell you the price. No point in looking through it, it’d suck your wages out through your eyeballs. Free drinks? Oh, yes.

With nothing else to do, she scanned the rest of the crowd. Everyone, except the growing and, in fact, quite large number of humans, had a beard. All dwarfs had beards. It was part of being a dwarf. Here, though,
the beards were a little finer than you usually saw around the city and there had been some experimentation with perms and ponytails. There were mining pickaxes on view, it was true, but carried in expensively tooled bags as if the owner might spot a likely-looking coal seam on the way to the shops and wouldn’t be able to help herself.

She shared this thought with Juliet, who pointed down at the feet of another well-heeled customer and said, ‘Wot? And spoil those gorgeous boots? They’re Snaky Cleavehelms, they are! Four hundred dollars a pop, an’ you’ve to wait for six months!’

Glenda couldn’t see the face of the boots’ owner, but she did see the change in her body language. The hint of preening, even from the rear. Well, she thought, I suppose if you’re going to spend all of a working family’s yearly income on a pair of boots it’s nice that someone notices.

When you watch people, you forget that people are watching you. Glenda was not very tall, which meant that from her point of view dwarfs were not very short. And she realized that they were being approached in a determined kind of way by two dwarfs, one of whom was extremely expansive around the waist and wearing a breastplate so beautifully hammered and ornamented that taking it into battle would be an act of artistic vandalism. He–and you had to remember that all dwarfs were he unless they asserted otherwise–had, when he spoke, a voice that sounded like the darkest and most expensive type of dark chocolate, possibly smoked. And the hand he offered had so many rings on each finger that you had to look with care to realize that he was not wearing a gauntlet. And she was a she, Glenda was sure of it: the chocolate was just too rich and fruity.

‘So glad you could come, my dears,’ she said, and the chocolate swirled. ‘I am Madame Sharn. I wondered if you could be of assistance to me? I really would not dream of asking, but I am, as you would put it, between a rock and a hard one.’

All this was, to Glenda’s annoyance, addressed to Juliet, who was eating rat fruit as if there was no tomorrow, which presumably there had not been for the rat. She giggled.

‘She’s with me,’ said Glenda, and, without meaning to, added, ‘Madame?’

Madame waved another hand and more rings glistened. ‘This salon is technically a mine and that means that under dwarf law I am the king of the mine and in my mine my rules go. And since I am King, I declare that I am Queen,’ she said. ‘Dwarf law bends and creaks but is not broken.’

‘Well,’ Glenda began, ‘we—Hey!’

This was to Madame’s smaller companion, who was actually holding a tape measure up against Juliet. ‘That is Pepe,’ said Madame.

‘Well, if he’s going to take liberties like that I hope he’s a woman,’ said Glenda.

‘Pepe is…Pepe,’ said Madame calmly. ‘And there is no changing him, as it were, or her. Labels are such unhelpful things, I feel.’

‘Especially yours, ’cos you don’t put the prices on them,’ said Glenda, out of sheer nervousness.

‘Ah yes, you notice these things,’ said Madame, with a wink that disarmed to the point of melting.

Pepe looked up excitedly at Madame, who went on, ‘I wonder if you, if she…if you
both
would mind joining me backstage? The matter is a little delicate.’

‘Ooh, yes,’ said Juliet immediately.

Out of nowhere, other human girls materialized among the crowd and carefully opened a path towards the back of the enormous room along which Madame progressed as though propelled by invisible forces.

Glenda felt that the situation had suddenly got away from her, but it had been a good measure of sherry and it whispered to her, ‘Why not let a situation get away from you every once in a while? Or even just once’ She had no idea what she was expecting behind the gilded door at the far end, but she had not expected smoke and flames and shouting and someone screaming in a corner. The place looked like a foundry on the day they let the clowns in.

‘Come on through. Don’t let this disturb you,’ said Madame. ‘It’s
always like this at show time. Nerves, you know. Of course, everyone in this business is lowly strung and there is always this problem to begin with with the micromail. It’s new, you see. According to dwarf law it must be hallmarked on every link and that would not only be sacrilege, but also bloody difficult to do.’ Behind the scenes, it appeared that Madame became a little less chocolatey and a little more earthy.

‘Micromail!’ said Juliet, as if she had been shown the gateway to riches.

‘You know what it is?’ said Madame.

‘She talks about nothing else,’ said Glenda. ‘Talks and talks.’

‘Well, of course, it’s wonderful stuff,’ said Madame. ‘Almost as soft as cloth, certainly better than leather—’

‘—and it doesn’t chafe,’ said Juliet.

‘Which is always a consideration for the more traditional dwarf who will not wear cloth,’ said Madame. ‘Old tribal customs, how they hold us back, always pull us back. We haul ourselves out of the mine, but somehow we always drag a bit of the mine with us. If I had my way, silk would be reclassified as a metal. What is your name, young lady?’

‘Juliet,’ said Glenda automatically, and then blushed. That was mumming, pure and simple. It was almost as bad as getting someone to spit on their handkerchief and wiping their face for them. The young lady with the drinks had followed them in and chose this moment to take Glenda’s sherry glass and replace it with a full one.

‘Would you mind just walking up and down a moment, Juliet?’ said Madame.

Glenda wanted to ask why, but since her mouth was full of sherry as an anti-embarrassment remedy, she let that one pass.

Madame watched Juliet critically, one hand cupping the elbow of the other arm.

‘Yes, yes. But I mean slowly, as if you were not in a hurry to get there and didn’t care,’ said Madame. ‘Imagine you’re a bird in the air, a fish in the sea. Wear the world.’

‘Oh, right,’ said Juliet and started again.

By the time Juliet was halfway across the floor for the second time,
Pepe had burst into tears. ‘Where has she been? Where was she trained?’ he, or conceivably she, squeaked while clapping his or her cheeks with both hands. ‘You must hire her at once!’

‘She’s already got a good steady job at the university,’ Glenda said. But the sherry said, ‘Once in a while isn’t over yet. Don’t spoil it!’
*

Madame, who clearly had an instinct for this kind of thing, put an arm around her shoulders. ‘The problem with dwarf ladies, you see, is that a lot of us are a little shy about being the centre of attention. I also have to bear in mind that dwarf clothing is proving quite interesting to young humans of a certain turn of mind. Your daughter is human—’ Madame turned briefly to Juliet. ‘You are human, aren’t you, dear? I find it pays to check.’

Juliet, apparently staring rapturously into a private world, nodded enthusiastically.

‘Oh good,’ said Madame. ‘And while she is exquisitely well built and moves like a dream, she is not too much taller than the average dwarf and frankly, my dear, some of the ladies would aspire to being a little taller than they are. This may be letting the side up, but that walk, my word. Dwarfs have hips, of course, but they seldom know what to do with them…I’m sorry, have I said something wrong?’

The half-pint of sherry so recently consumed by Glenda finally gave way under the pressure of her rage. ‘I am
not
her mother. She is my friend.’

Madame shot her another of those looks that gave her the feeling that her brain was being taken out and examined minutely. ‘Then would you mind if I paid your friend’-there was a pause-‘five dollars to model for me this afternoon?’

‘All right,’ said the sherry to Glenda. ‘You wondered where I was going to take you and here you are. Can you see the view? What are you going to do now?’

‘Twenty-five dollars,’ said Glenda.

Pepe clapped her, or possibly his, cheeks again and screamed, ‘Yes! Yes!’

‘And a shop discount,’ said Glenda.

Madame gave her a long-drawn-out stare. ‘Excuse me one moment,’ said the dwarf.

She walked over and took Pepe’s arm, walking him at some speed to the corner. Glenda could not hear what was said over some nearby riveting and someone having hysterics. Madame came back smirking artificially, Pepe trailing her. ‘I have a show starting in ten minutes and my best model has dropped her pickaxe on her foot. We shall negotiate any future engagements. And will you please stop that jumping up and down, Pepe?’

Glenda blinked.
I cannot believe I just did that
, she thought.
Twenty-five dollars for putting some clothes on! That’s more than I earn in a month! That’s just not right.
And the sherry said, ‘What exactly is wrong here? Would you dress up in chain mail and parade in front of a lot of strangers for twenty-five dollars?’

Glenda shuddered.
Certainly not
, she thought.

‘Well, there you are then,’ said the sherry.

But it will all end in tears
, thought Glenda.

‘No, you’re just saying that because part of you thinks it should,’ said the sherry. ‘You know there are far worse things that a girl could do for twenty-five dollars than put some clothes on. Take them off, for a start.’

But what will the neighbours say?
was the last despairing argument from Glenda.

‘They can stick it up their jumper,’ said the sherry. ‘Anyway, they won’t know, will they? Dolly Sisters doesn’t shop in the Maul, it’s far too grand. Look, we’re looking at twenty-five dollars. Twenty-five dollars to do what you couldn’t stop her doing now with a length of lead pipe. Just look at her face! She looks as if someone has lit a lamp inside.’

It was true.

Oh, all right then
, thought Glenda.

‘Good,’ said the sherry. ‘And incidentally, I’m feeling lonely.’

And as the tray was at Glenda’s elbow again, she reached out automatically.
Juliet was now surrounded by dwarfs and, by the sound of it, she was having a lightning education in how to wear clothing. But it wouldn’t matter, would it? The truth of the matter was that Juliet would look good in a sack. Somehow, everything she wore fitted perfectly. Glenda, on the other hand, never found anything good in her size and indeed seldom found anything in her size. In theory, something should fit, but all she ever found was facts, which are so unbecoming.

‘Well, we have a nice day for it,’ said the Archchancellor.

‘Looks like rain,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes hopefully.

‘I suggest two teams of five on a side,’ said Ridcully. ‘Only a friendly game, of course, just to get the hang of it.’

Ponder Stibbons made no comment. Wizards were competitive. It was a part of wizardry. Wizards have no more idea of a friendly game than cats have of a friendly mouse. The college lawns stretched out in front of them. ‘Of course, next time we’ll have proper jerseys,’ said Ridcully. ‘Mrs Whitlow already has her girls working on that. Mister Stibbons!’

‘Yes, Archchancellor?’

‘You shall be the keeper of the rules and adjudicate fairly. I will, of course, be captain of one of the teams and you, Runes, will captain the other. As Archchancellor, I suggest that I pick my team first and then you will be at liberty to choose yours.’

‘It isn’t actually supposed to work like that, Archchancellor,’ said Ponder. ‘You pick a team member and then he picks a team member until you have enough team members or have run out of team members who aren’t grossly fat or trembling with nerves. At least that’s how I remember it.’ Ponder, in his youth, had spent far too long standing next to the fat kid.