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en a very long way off。 But then； some people would say anything。
A shadow starts to blot out the distant glitter； and it is blacker than space itself。
From here it also looks a great deal bigger； because space is not really big； it is simply somewhere to be big in。 Planets are big； but planets are meant to be big and there is nothing clever about being the right size。
But this shape blotting out the sky like the footfall of God isn't a planet。
It is a turtle； ten thousand miles long from its crater…pocked head to its armoured tail。
And Great A'Tuin is huge。
Great flippers rise and fall ponderously； warping space into strange shapes。 The Discworld slides across the sky like a royal barge。 But even Great A'Tuin is struggling now as it leaves the free depths of space and must fight the tormenting pressures of the solar shallows。 Magic is weaker here； on the littoral of light。 Many more days of his and the Discworld will be stripped away by the pressures of reality。
Great A'Tuin knows this； but Great A'Tuin can recall doing all this before； many thousands of years ago。
The astrochelonian's eyes； glowing red in the light of the dwarf star； are not focussed on it but at a little patch of space nearby 。 。 。
'Yes； but where are we？' said Twoflower。 The shopkeeper； hunched over his table； just shrugged。
'I don't think we're anywhere；' he said。 'We're in a cotangent incongruity； I believe。 I could be wrong。 The shop generally knows what it's doing。'
'You mean you don't？'
'I pick a bit up； here and there。' The shopkeeper blew his nose。 'Sometimes I land on a world where they understand these things。' He turned a pair of small； sad eyes on Twoflower。 'You've got a kind face； sir。 I don't mind telling you。'
'Telling me what？'
'It's no life； you know； minding the Shop。 Never settling down； always on the move； never closing。'
Why don't you stop； then？'
'Ah； that's it； you see； sir…I can't。 I'm under a curse； I am。 A terrible thing。' He blew his nose again。
'Cursed to run a shop？'
'Forever； sir； forever。 And never closing！ For hundreds of years！ There was this sorcerer； you see。 I did a terrible thing。'
'In a shop？' said Twoflower。
'Oh； yes。 I can't remember what it was he wanted； but when he asked for it I … I gave one of those sucking…in noises； you know； like whistling only backwards？' He demonstrated。
Twoflower looked sombre； but he was at heart a kind man and always ready to forgive。
'I see；' he said slowly。 'Even so …'
'That's not all！'
'Oh。'
'I told him there was no demand for it！'
'After making the sucking noise？'
'Yes。 I probably grinned； too。'
'Oh； dear。 You didn't call him squire； did you？'
'I … I may have done。'
'Um。'
'There's more。'
'Surely not？'
'Yes； I said I could order it and he could e back next day。'
'That doesn't sound too bad；' said Twoflower； who alone of all the people in the multiverse allowed shops to order things for him and didn't object at all to paying quite large sums of money to reimburse the shopkeeper for the inconvenience of having a bit of stock in his store often for several hours。
'It was early closing day；' said the shopkeeper。
'Oh。'
'Yes； and I heard him rattling the doorhandle； I had this sign on the door； you know； it said something like 〃Closed even for the sale of Necromancer cigarettes；〃 anyway； I heard him banging and I laughed。'
'You laughed？'
'Yes。 Like this。 Hnufhnufhnufblort。'
'Probably not a wise thing to do；' said Twoflower； shaking his head。
'I know； I know。 My father always said； he said； Do not peddle in the affairs of wizards 。 。 。 Anyway； I heard him shouting something about never closing again； and a lot of words I couldn't understand； and then the shop … the shop … the shop came alive。'
'And you've wandered like this ever since？'
'Yes。 I suppose one day I might find the sorcerer and perhaps the thing he wanted will be in stock。 Until then I must go from place to place …'
'That was a terrible thing to do；' said Twoflower。
The shopkeeper wiped his nose on his apron。 'Thank you；' he said。
'Even so； he shouldn't have cursed you quite so badly；' Twoflower added。
'Oh。 Yes； well。' The shopkeeper straightened his apron and made a brave little attempt to pull himself together。 'Anyway； this isn't getting you to Ankh…Morpork； is it？'
'Funny thing is；' said Twoflower； 'that I bought my Luggage in a shop like this； once。 Another shop； I mean。'
'Oh yes； there's several of us；' said the shopkeeper； turning back to the table； 'that sorcerer was a very impatient man； I understand。'
'Endlessly roaming through the universe；' mused Twoflower。
'That's right。 Mind you； there is a saving on the rates。'
'Rates？'
'Yes； they're…' the shopkeeper paused； and wrinkled his forehead。 'I can't quite remember； it was such a long time ago。 Rates； rates …'
'Very large mice？'
'That's probably it。'
'Hold on … it's thinking about something；' said Cohen。
Lackjaw looked up wearily。 It had been quite nice； sitting here in the shade。 He had just worked out that in trying to escape from a city of crazed madmen he had appeared to have allowed one mad man to give him his full attention。 He wondered whether he would live to regret this。
He earnestly hoped so。
'Oh yes； it's definitely thinking；' he said bitterly。 'Anyone can see that。'
'I think it's found them。'
'Oh； good。'
'Hold onto it。'
'Are you mad？' said Lackjaw。
'I know this thing； trust me。 Anyway； would you rather be left with all these star people？ They might be interested in having a talk with you。'
Cohen sidled over to the Luggage； and then flung himself astride it。 It took no notice。
'Hurry up；' he said。 'I think it's going to go。'
Lackjaw shrugged； and climbed on gingerly behind Cohen。
'Oh？' he said； 'and how does it g …'
Ankh…Morpork！
Pearl of cities！
This is not a pletely accurate description； of course … it was not round and shiny … but even its worst enemies would agree that if you had to liken Ankh…Morpork to anything； then it might as well be a piece of rubbish covered with the diseased secretions of a dying mollusc。
There have been bigger cities。 There have been richer cities。 There have certainly been prettier cities。 But no city in the multiverse could rival Ankh…Morpork for its smell。
The Ancient Ones； who know everything about all the universes and have smelt the smells of Calcutta and ！Xrc …！ and dauntocum Marsport； have agreed that even these fine examples of nasal poetry are mere limericks when set against the glory of the Ankh…Morpork smell。
You can talk about ramps。 You can talk about garlic。 You can talk about France。 Go on。 But if you haven't smelled Ankh…Morpork on a hot day you haven't smelled anything。
The citizens are proud of it。 They carry chairs outside to enjoy it on a really good day。 They puff out their cheeks and slap their chests and ment cheerfully on its little distinctive nuances。 They have even put up a statue to it； to memorate the time when the troops of a rival state tried to invade by stealth one dark night and managed to get to the top of the walls before； to their horror； their nose plugs gave