Chapter 5

Late evening, high above the casual observer, the Librarian and his daughter reviewed her notes from her daily lectures like they did every night. Finally, she slammed her textbook closed (quietly) in frustration. “I don’t understand daddy, I’ve used spells and disguises, but I swear they seem to know! And they don’t care!”

“Ook.”

“They follow me in a crowd, they open doors for me, they carry my books for me, they purchase my meals for me, they offer to do my homework for me...”

“Ook?”

“That IS the faculty! My fellow students are too scared to talk to me!” There was one more thing she dare not tell her foster father and for once she bemoans the fact that she has no foster mother to talk to. For some reason, she feels horribly overdressed.

“Ook,” said the Librarian as he reached for a banana with a foot. As he peeled and thoughtfully chewed on the banana, Octavia returned to her books sitting cross-legged atop the bookcases hidden behind potted plants, behind her the walking stick she was awarded at her graduation from a wizarding university, paced impatiently, ready to strike out on a long walk. It’s what all walking sticks would do if they were all made from sapient pearwood. Finally, the Librarian swallowed the last bite of banana and said, “Ook.” It was the longest speech she ever heard her father say.

“I will daddy,” and she tearfully threw her arms around an equally tearful orangutang. Partings are so painful, but planning for them is worse.

For the next week she was especially studious, taking notes furiously in her eclectic choice of classes, especially Astro Zoology and Thaumaturgical Herpetology. As she promised her father, she began to look for an assistant, someone to travel with her, someone she could trust who would assist her with her urgent mission. Between classes, she spoke with her classmates, and with each one she asked the same question, “If we were trapped together on a secluded island paradise, what would you do with me?”

Most of her fellow students began trembling, their breath coming in gasps, their moist eyes open wide, their voices sputtering until they muttered an excuse and ran off. Others fumbled for words until they said some inane platitude, such as “Build a raft” or “collect fruit.” The faculty was just as bad; however, one wizard had a novel idea of creating a tropical line of wizard’s staffs from rare local hardwoods harvested on the island and adding faux native carvings to the staff. He seemed to be quite enamored with the idea of the money that idea could make.

Frustrated with the responses she received from the faculty, she turned to the housekeeping staff and quickly found that the women were out of the question. Each one answered along the lines of - “Wot would I do with the likes of YOU on an island paradise? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! I won’t let you within a furlong of me! And I’ll tell you another thing! If I so much as catch you even glancing in the direction of my ankles I will...” With a little wave of her hand Octavia left the shrieking kitchen help mute and angry, but at least the mind-numbing clatter of a busy kitchen could be heard once again.

She was defeated. It was her dad who told her to enlist a servant, someone to help in this most important quest, but no one appeared to be right. Worst of all, if she can’t find someone to come with her and assist, he said that he would come with her, and she couldn’t endanger her daddy. She found herself on the roof of the Hall of Alchemic Arts, hidden by the various columns of multi coloured smoke that oozed from dozens of holes in the roof (both the smoke and holes were caused by a series of freshman failures in the alchemy labs below) she tried to ponder her fate. Sadly, she soon found herself at the center of an adoring crowd of effigies. They were gargoyles who offered her dead pigeons as a gift to lift her spirits. (Dead pigeons are a gargoyle’s favorite meal.)

In frustration, she left the grounds of the Unseen University to think and found herself in the ruins of the Fire Brigade building that was apparently being rebuilt ... or maybe the bricks were being stolen. A young man that she had been watching carry off the charred bricks came up to Octavia and asked, “Would you like a fresh brick to sit on ma’am?”

“You can tell that I’m a woman?” She had cast numerous spells on herself to prevent people from realizing her true gender. From spells that gave her a full beard to spells that gave her robes the appearance of a football team’s jersey. She even sat with her knees wide apart and attempted to explain everything to the women in the housekeeping staff.

“You’re not?” The young man looked confused.

Octavia studied the young man closely. Either he was born with the gift of True Sight (True Sight is the ability to see past the frippery and illusions that are placed all around us and see the world as it truly is. People with True Sight are generally depressed and are no fun at parties) or he is “Magically Well Endowed” a condition that sounds more exciting than it truly is. “Tell me,” said Octavia, “if we were trapped together on an island paradise, what would you do with me?”

He blushed! He actually blushed! He stuttered and looked down at his feet and said shyly, “anything you ask of me and everything I could to make you happy.”

“You’re hired!” she said before her brain could stop her mouth. He gave her the wrong answer. It wasn’t even close to what her father told her to wait for, but dad wasn’t here. Dad wasn’t her. This was a dangerous mission, and this handsome fellow needed to know the risks.

“I’m sorry ... I suppose I should explain.” She took a deep breath and tried to explain some very complex scientific facts without using complex scientific jargon. “As you know our world is flat and rides on the back of four elephants that ride through space on the back of a giant turtle, are you with me so far?” He nodded happily, so she continued, “years ago the turtle that our planet rides on returned to the eggs she laid. The eggs hatched and now the baby turtles carrying tiny young elephants holding up little flat planets are following us as we swim through space ... am I being too scientific for you? I can use layman’s terms if need be...”

“No, not at all ... I mean it’s fine...” he said, smiling, and when his eyes caught hers, something happened. She became tired of pretending to be a man and he became tired of being alone.

“There are planet eaters out there in space,” she continued, “they’re too small to eat us, but the babies are the right size for them.”

“Oh no,” gasped the young man, and he looked genuinely concerned. Normally a citizen of Ankh-Morpork would say, “it ain’t my problem,” then steal her wallet.

“We are passing a nebula that’s perfect for the babies to hide in and live in there safe from the planet killers, they could grow and emerge large enough that a planet killer is not a threat. I need to go to Krull and stand on Tähelepanek Point and cast a spell that would allow the babies to go free where they can hide and grow.”

“That sounds nice,” said the finely muscled young man.