Стража! Стража!

           Ithadescapedmostofthedevastationwithnothingmorethanalayerofdust.ThePatriciansatdown,andsuddenlyitwasasifhe’dneverleft.Vimeswonderedifheeverhad.

           Hepickedupasheafofpapersandbrushedtheplasteroffthem.

           "Sad,"hesaid."Lupinewassuchatidy-mindedman."

           "Yes,sir."

           ThePatriciansteepledhishandsandlookedatVimesoverthetopofthem.

           "Letmegiveyousomeadvice,Captain,"hesaid.

           "Yes,sir?"

           "Itmayhelpyoumakesomesenseoftheworld."

           "Sir."

           "Ibelieveyoufindlifesuchaproblembecauseyouthinktherearethegoodpeopleandthebadpeople,"saidtheman."You’rewrong,ofcourse.Thereare,alwaysandonly,thebadpeople,butsomeofthemareonoppositesides."

           Hewavedhisthinhandtowardsthecityandwalkedovertothewindow.

           "Agreatrollingseaofevil,"hesaid,almostpro-prietorially."Shallowerinsomeplaces,ofcourse,butdeeper,oh,somuchdeeperinothers.Butpeoplelikeyouputtogetherlittleraftsofrulesandvaguelygoodintentionsandsay,thisistheopposite,thiswilltriumphintheend.Amazing!"HeslappedVimesgood-naturedlyontheback.

           "Downthere,"hesaid,"arepeoplewhowillfollowanydragon,worshipanygod,ignoreanyiniquity.Alloutofakindofhumdrum,everydaybadness.Notthereallyhigh,creativeloathesomenessofthegreatsinners,butasortofmass-produceddarknessofthesoul.Sin,youmightsay,withoutatraceoforiginality.Theyacceptevilnotbecausetheysayyes,butbecausetheydon’tsayno.