Thief of Time

Because I have seen everything.

“Would you like to tell everyone?” said Susan, reverting to Classroom Sarcasm. “We'd all like to know how this ends!”

You misunderstand the meaning of “everything”.

Lu-Tze rummaged in his sack of ammunition and produced two chocolate eggs and a paper bag. Unity went white at the sight of the bag.

“I didn't know we had any of those!” she said.

“Good, are they?”

“Coffee beans coated in chocolate,” breathed Susan. “They should be outlawed!”

The two women watched in horror as Lu-Tze put one in his mouth. He gave them a surprised look.

“Quite nice, but I prefer liquorice,” he said.

“You mean you don't want another one?” said Susan.

“No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I'd quite like liquorice, though, if you have any…”

“Have you had some special monk training?”

“Well, not in chocolate combat, no,” said Lu-Tze. “But is it not written, ‘If you have another one you won't have an appetite for your dinner’?”

“You really mean you will not eat a second chocolate coffee bean?”

“No, thank you.”

Susan looked across at Unity, who was trembling. “You do have tastebuds, don't you?” she said, but she felt a pressure on her arm pulling her away.

“You two get behind that cart over there and run when you get the signal,” said Lu-Tze. “Go now!”

“What signal?”

We'll know, said the voice of Lobsang.

Lu-Tze watched them hurry away. Then he picked up his broom in one hand and stepped out into the view of a street full of grey people.

“Excuse me?” he said. “Could I have your attention, please?”

“What is he doing?” said Susan, crouching behind the cart.

They're all going towards him, said Lobsang. Some of them have weapons.

“They'll be the ones giving the orders,” said Susan.

Are you sure?

“Yes. They've learned from humans. Auditors aren't used to taking orders. They need persuading.”

He's telling them about Rule One, and that means he's got a plan. I think it's working. Yes!

“What's he done? What's he done?”

Come on! He'll be fine!

Susan leapt up. “Good!”

Yes, they've cut his head off…

Fear, anger, envy… Emotions bring you alive, which is a brief period just before you die. The grey shapes fled in front of the swords.

But there were billions of them. And they had their own ways of fighting. Passive, subtle ways.

“This is stupid!” Pestilence shouted. “They can't even catch a common cold!”

“No soul to damn, no arse to kick!” said War, hacking at grey shreds that rolled away from his blade.

“They have a kind of hunger,” said Famine. “I just can't find a way to get at it!”

The horses were reined in. The wall of greyness hovered in the distance, and began to close in again.

THEY ARE FIGHTING BACK, said Death. CAN YOU NOT FEEL IT?

“I just feel we're too damn stupid,” said War.

AND WHERE DOES THAT FEELING COME FROM?

“Are you saying they're affecting our minds?” said Pestilence. “We're Horsemen! How can they do that to us?”

WE HAVE BECOME TOO HUMAN.

“Us? Human? Don't make me lau—”

LOOK AT THE SWORD IN YOUR HAND, said Death. DON'T YOU NOTICE ANYTHING?

“It's a sword. Sword-shaped. Well?”

LOOK AT THE HAND. FOUR FINGERS AND A THUMB. A HUMAN HAND. HUMANS GAVE YOU THAT SHAPE. AND THAT IS THE WAY IN. LISTEN! DO YOU NOT FEEL SMALL IN A BIG UNIVERSE? THAT IS WHAT THEY ARE SINGING. IT IS BIG AND YOU ARE SMALL AND AROUND YOU THERE IS NOTHING BUT THE COLD OF SPACE AND YOU ARE SO VERY ALONE.

The other three Horsemen looked unsettled, nervous.

“That's coming from them?” said War.

YES. IT IS THE FEAR AND HATRED THAT MATTER HAS FOR LIFE AND THEY ARE THE BEARERS OF THAT HATRED.

“Then what can we do?” said Pestilence. “There're too many of them!”

DID YOU THINK THAT THOUGHT, OR DID THEY? Death snapped.

“They're coming closer again,” said War.

THEN WE WILL DO WHAT WE CAN.

“Four swords against an army? That'll never work!”

YOU THOUGHT IT MIGHT A FEW MOMENTS AGO. WHO IS TALKING FOR YOU NOW? HUMANS HAVE ALWAYS FACED US AND THEY HAVE NOT SURRENDERED.

“Well, yes,” said Pestilence. “But with us they could always hope for a remission.”

“Or a sudden truce,” said War.

“Or—” Famine began, and hesitated, and said finally, “A shower of fish?” He looked at their expressions. “That actually happened once,” he added defiantly.

IN ORDER TO HAVE A CHANGE OF FORTUNE AT THE LAST MINUTE YOU HAVE TO TAKE YOUR FORTUNE TO THE LAST MINUTE, said Death. WE MUST DO WHAT WE CAN.

“And if that doesn't work?” said Pestilence.

Death gathered up Binky's reins. The Auditors were much closer now. He could make out their individual, identical shapes. Remove one, and there were always a dozen more.

THEN WE DID WHAT WE COULD, he said, UNTIL WE COULD NOT.

On his cloud, the Angel Clothèd all in White wrestled with the Iron Book.

“What are they talking about?” said Mrs War.