Free Thief of Time by Terry Pratchett Page A

way?” the abbot added. “Mmmn nicey bikkit!”
    “No, Reverend One, I have already eaten,” said the sweeper.
    “Ludd is a puzzle, is he not? His tutors have nicey bikkit mmm mmm bikkit told me he is very talented but somehow not all there. But you had never met him and don’t know his history and so mmm bikkit I would value your uninfluenced observations mmm BIKKIT .”
    “He is beyond fast,” said Lu-Tze. “I think he may begin to react to things before they happen.”
    “How can anyone tell that? Want teddy want teddy wanna wanna TEDDY! ”
    “I put him in front of the Machine of Erratic Balls in the senior dojo and he was moving toward the right hole fractionally before the ball came out.”
    “Some kind of gurgle telepathy, then?”
    “If a simple machine has a mind of its own, I think we’re in really big trouble,” said Lu-Tze. He took a deep breath. “And in the Hall of the Mandala he saw the patterns in the chaos.”
    “You let a neophyte see the Mandala ?” said chief acolyte Rinpo, horrified.
    “If you want to see if someone can swim, push him in the river,” said Lu-Tze, shrugging. “What other way is there?”
    “But to look at it without the proper training—”
    “He saw the patterns,” said Lu-Tze. “And reacted to the Mandala.” He did not add: and the Mandala reacted to him. He wanted to think about that. When you look into the abyss, it’s not supposed to wave back.
    “It was teddyteddyteddywahwah strictly forbidden, even so,” said the abbot. Clumsily, he fumbled among the toys on his mat and picked up a large wooden brick with a jolly blue elephant printed on it and hurled it awkwardly at Rinpo. “Sometimes you presume too much, Sweeper lookit ’lefant !”
    There was some applause from the acolytes at the prowess in animal recognition.
    “He saw the patterns. He knows what is happening. He just doesn’t know what he knows,” said Lu-Tze doggedly. “And within a few seconds of meeting me he stole a small object of value, and I’m still wondering how he did it. Can he really be as fast as that without training? Who is this boy?”
    Tick
    Who is this girl?
    Madam Frout, headmistress of the Frout Academy and pioneer of the Frout Method of Learning Through Fun, often found herself thinking that when she had to interview Miss Susan. Of course, the girl was an employee, but…well, Madam Frout wasn’t very good at discipline, which was possibly why she’d invented the Method, which didn’t require any. She generally relied on talking to people in a jolly tone of voice until they gave in out of sheer embarrassment on her behalf.
    Miss Susan didn’t appear ever to be embarrassed about anything .
    “The reason I’ve called you here, Susan, that is, er, the reason is—” Madam Frout faltered.
    “There have been complaints?” said Miss Susan.
    “Er, no…er…although Miss Smith has told me that the children coming up from your class are, er, restless. Their reading ability is, she says, rather unfortunately advanced…”
    “Miss Smith thinks a good book is about a boy and his dog chasing a big red ball,” said Miss Susan. “My children have learned to expect a plot. No wonder they get impatient. We’re reading Grim Fairy Tales at the moment.”
    “That is rather rude of you, Susan.”
    “No, Madam. That is rather polite of me. It would have been rude of me to say that there is a circle of Hell reserved for teachers like Miss Smith.”
    “But that’s a dreadf—” Madam Frout stopped and began again. “You should not be teaching them to read at all yet!” she snapped. But it was the snap of a soggy twig. Madam Frout cringed back in her chair when Miss Susan looked up. The girl had this terrible ability to give you Her Full Attention . You had to be a better person than Madam Frout to survive the intensity of that attention. It inspected your soul, putting little red circles around the bits it didn’t like. When Miss Susan looked at you, it was as if she