Going Postal

does not. Mr. Pump does not breathe. The deep abyssal plains of the oceans present no barrier to Mr. Pump. Four miles an hour is six hundred and seventy-two miles a week. It all adds up. And when Mr. Pump catches you—”
    “Ah, now,” said Moist, holding up a finger. “Let me stop you there. I know golems are not allowed to hurt people!”
    Lord Vetinari raised his eyebrows. “Good heavens, wherever did you hear that?”
    “It’s written on…something inside their heads! A scroll, or something. Isn’t it?” said Moist, uncertainty rising.
    “Oh, dear.” The Patrician sighed. “Mr. Pump, just break one of Mr. Lipwig’s fingers, will you? Neatly, if you please.”
    “Yes, Your Lordship.” The golem lumbered forward.
    “Hey! No! What?” Moist waved his hands wildly and knocked game pieces tumbling. “Wait! Wait! There’s a rule ! A golem mustn’t harm a human being or allow a human being to come to harm!”
    Lord Vetinari raised a finger. “Just wait one moment, please, Mr. Pump. Very well, Mr. Lipwig, can you remember the next bit?”
    “The next bit? What next bit?” said Moist. “There isn’t a next bit!”
    Lord Vetinari raised an eyebrow.
    “Mr. Pump?” he said
    “—‘Unless Ordered To Do So By Duly Constituted Authority,’” said the golem.
    “I’ve never heard that bit before!” said Moist.
    “Haven’t you?” said Lord Vetinari, in apparent surprise. “I can’t imagine who would fail to include it. A hammer can hardly be allowed to refuse to hit the nail on the head, nor a saw make moral judgments about the nature of the timber. In any case, I employ Mr. Trooper the hangman, who of course you have met, and the City Watch, the regiments, and, from time to time…other specialists, who are fully entitled to kill in their own defense or in protection of the city and its interests.” Vetinari started to pick up the fallen pieces and replace them delicately on the slab. “Why should Mr. Pump be any different just because he is made of clay? Ultimately, so are we all. Mr. Pump will accompany you to your place of work. The fiction will be that he is your bodyguard, as befits a senior government official. We alone will know that he has…additional instructions. Golems are highly moral creatures by nature, Mr. Lipwig, but you may find their morality a shade…old-fashioned?”
    “Additional instructions?” said Moist. “And would you mind telling me exactly what his additional instructions are?”
    “Yes.” The Patrician blew a speck of dust off a little stone troll and put it on its square.
    “And—?” said Moist, after a pause.
    Vetinari sighed. “Yes, I would mind telling you exactly what they are. You have no rights in this matter. We have impounded your horse, by the way, since it was used in the committal of a crime.”
    “This is cruel and unusual punishment!” said Moist.
    “Indeed?” said Vetinari. “I offer you a light desk job, comparative freedom of movement, working in the fresh air…no, I feel that my offer might well be unusual but…cruel? I think not. However, I believe down the cellars we do have some ancient punishments which are extremely cruel and in many cases quite unusual, if you would like to try them for the purposes of comparison. And, of course, there is always the option of dancing the sisal two-step.”
    “The what?” said Moist.
    Drumknott leaned down and whispered something in his master’s ear.
    “Oh, I apologize,” said Vetinari. “I meant, of course, the hemp fandango. It is your choice, Mr. Lipwig. There is always a choice, Mr. Lipwig. Oh, and by the way…do you know the second interesting thing about angels?”
    “What angels?” said Moist, angry and bewildered.
    “Oh dear, people just don’t pay attention,” said Vetinari. “Remember? The first interesting thing about angels? I told you yesterday? I expect you were thinking about something else. The second interesting thing about angels, Mr. Lipwig, is that you only ever get one .”

CHAPTER 2
    The Post Office
In which we meet the staff • Glom of Nit
• Dissertation on rhyming slang
• “You should have been there!” • The dead letters
• A golem’s life • Book of Regulations
    T HERE WAS ALWAYS an angle. There was always a price. There was always a way .
    And look at it like this , Moist thought: Certain death had been replaced with uncertain death, and that’s an improvement, isn’t it? He was free to walk around…well, hobble, at the moment.