#the boat

What was riding at anchor before the city of Al-Khali wasn’t a fleet. It was a fleet of fleets. The masts looked like a floating forest.

Down below, Lord Vetinari took his turn to peer through the pipe.

“So many ships,” he said. “In such a short time, too. How very well organized. Very well organized. One might almost say… astonishingly well organized. As they say, ‘If you would seek war, prepare for war.’”

“I believe, my lord, the saying is ‘If you would seek peace, prepare for war,’” Leonard ventured.

Vetinari put his head on one side and his lips moved as he repeated the phrase to himself. Finally he said, “No, no. I just don’t see that one at all.”

He ducked back into his seat.

“Let us proceed with care,” he said. “We can go ashore under cover of darkness.”

“Er… can we maybe go ashore under cover of cover?” said Sergeant Colon.

“In fact these extra ships will make our plan that much easier,” said the Patrician, ignoring him.

“Our plan?” said Colon.

“People within the Klatchian hegemony come in every shape and color.” Vetinari glanced at Nobby. “Practically every shape and color,” he added. “So our appearance on the streets should not cause undue comment.” He glanced at Nobby again. “To any great extent.”

-Jingo, Terry Pratchett

“Hey, Mr. Quirm, this is an amazing boat,” said Nobby.

“Thank you.”

“I bet you could even smash up ships with it if you wanted.”

There was an embarrassed silence.

“Altogether an interesting experience,” said Lord Vetinari, making some notes. “And now, gentlemen- downward and onward, please…”

-Jingo, Terry Pratchett

Far below Solid Jackson’s feet, the Boat surfaced. Sergeant Colon reached automatically for the screws that held the lid shut.

“Don’t open it, sergeant!” shouted Leonard, rising from his seat.

“The air’s getting pretty lived-in, sir-”

“It’s worse outside.”

“Worse than in here?”

“I’m almost certain.”

“But we’re on the surface!”

“A surface, sergeant,” said Lord Vetinari. Beside him, Nobby uncorked the seeing device and peered through it.

“We’re in a cave?” said Colon.

“Er… sarge…” said Nobby.

“Capital! Well worked out,” said Lord Vetinari. “Yes. A cave. You could say that.”

-Jingo, Terry Pratchett

Nobby nudged him. “What’re we doing down here, sarge? I mean, what’s it all about? Poking around, looking at weird marks on the rocks, going in and out of caves… and the smell… well…”

“It’s not me,” said Sergeant Colon.

“Smells like… sulfur…”

Little bubbles streamed past the window.

“It stunk up on the surface, too,” Nobby went on.

“Nearly finished, gentlemen,” said Lord Vetinari, putting the papers aside. “One last little venture and then we can surface. Very well, Leonard… take us underneath.”

“Er… aren’t we underneath already, sir?” said Colon.

“Only underneath the sea, sergeant.”

“Ah. Right.” Colon gave this due consideration. “Is there anything else to be under, then, sir?”

“Yes, sergeant. Now we’re going under the land.”

-Jingo, Terry Pratchett

The Boat squeaked through the mysterious depths of the oceans. Leonard spent a lot of time looking out of the tiny windows, particularly interested in pieces of seaweed which, to Sergeant Colon, looked like pieces of seaweed.

“Do you note the fine strands of Dropley’s Etoliated Bladderwrack?” said Leonard. “That’s the brown stuff. A marvelous growth which, of course, you will see as significant.”

“Could we just assume for the moment that I have neglected my seaweed studies in recent years?” said the Patrician.

“Really? Oh, the loss is entirely yours, I assure you. The point is, of course, that the Etoliated Bladderwrack is never usually found growing above thirty fathoms, and it’s only ten here.”

“Ah.” The Patrician flicked through a stack of Leonard’s drawings. “And the hieroglyphs - as alphabet of signs and colors. Colors as a language… what a fascinating idea…”

“Anemotional intensifier,” said Leonard. “But of course we ourselves use something like that. Red for danger and so on. I never did succeed in translating it, though.”

“Colors as a language…” murmured Lord Vetinari.

Sergeant Colon cleared his throat. “I know something about seaweed, sir.”

“Yes, sergeant?”

“Yessir! If it’s wet, sir, it means it’s going to rain.”

“Well done, sergeant,” said Lord Vetinari, without turning his head. “I think it is quite possible that I will never forget you said that.”

Sergeant Colon beamed. He had Made A Contribution.

-Jingo, Terry Pratchett

When [Colon] awoke at one point there were faint voices coming from the other end of the vessel.

“-don’t quite understand, my lord. Whythem?”

“They do what they’re told, they tend to believe the last thing they heard, they’re not bright enough to ask questions, and they have that certain  unshakable loyalty available to those unencumbered by too much intelligence.”

“I suppose so, my lord.”

“Such men are valuable, believe me.”

Sergeant Colon turned over and tried to make himself comfortable. Glad I’m not like those poor bastards, he thought as he drifted off to sleep on the bosom of the deep. I’m a man with special qualities.

-Jingo, Terry Pratchett

“Where are we, Leonard?”

“Well, er, my star charts are all out of date, of course, but if you would care to wait until the sun rises, and I’ve invented a device for ascertaining position by reference to the sun, and devised a satisfactorily accurate watch-”

“Where are we now, Leonard?”

“Er… in the middle of the Circle Sea, I suspect.”

“The middle?”

“Pretty close, I should say. Look, if I can measure the wind speed-”

“Then Leshp should be in this vicinity?”

“Oh, yes, I should-”

“Good. Unhitch us from this apparently stricken ship while we still have the cover of darkness and in the morning I wish to see this troublesome land. In the meantime, I suggest that everyone gets some sleep.”

-Jingo, Terry Pratchett

discworldtour:

Sergeant Colon knew he was facing one of the most dangerous moments in his career.
There was nothing for it. He was out of options.
“Er… if I add this A and this O and this I and this D,” he said, the sweat pouring down his pink cheeks, “then I can use that V to make ‘avoid.’ Er… and that gets me, er, a… what d’you cal these blue squares, Len?”
“A ‘Three Times Ye Value of Thee Letter’ score,” said Leonard of Quirm.
“Well done, sergeant,” said Lord Vetinari. “I do believe that puts you in the lead.”
“Er… I do believe it does, sir,” squeaked Sergeant Colon.
“However, I find that you have left me the use of my U, N, and A, B, L, E,” the Patrician went on, “which incidentally lands me on this Three Times the Whole Worde square and, I rather suspect, wins me the game.”
Sergeant Colon sagged with relief.
“A capital game, Leonard,” said Vetinari. “What did you say it was called?”
“I call it the ‘Make Words With Letters That Have All Been Mixed Up Game,’ my lord.”
“Ah. Yes. Obviously. Well done.”
“Huh, an’ I got three points,” mumbled Nobby. “They was perfectly good words that you wouldn’t let me have, too.”
“I’m sure the gentlemen don’t want to know those words,” said Colon severely.
“I’d have got ten points for that X.”

The occupants of the boat play the Make Words With Letters That Have All Been Mixed Up Game | Terry Pratchett, Jingo