Part 23 (1/2)

'Overheat?' I asked. 'My head would have got hot?'

'More than hot. Enough energy would have been released to write about fourteen novels.'

'I'm an apprentice, Plum, tell me in simple terms.'

He looked at me seriously.

'There wouldn't be much left of the hat or the person wearing it. It happens occasionally on the Mk IVs it would have been seen as an accident. Good thing there was was a broken cord.' a broken cord.'

He whistled softly.

'Nifty piece of work, too. Someone who knew what they were doing.'

'That's very interesting,' I said slowly. 'Can you give me a list of people who might have been able to do this sort of work?'

'Take a few days.'

'Worth the wait. I'll call back.'

I met up with Miss Havisham and the Bellman in the Jurisfiction offices. The Bellman nodded a greeting and consulted his ever-present clipboard.

'Looks like a dog day, ladies.'

'Thurber again?'

'No, Mansfield Park Mansfield Park. Lady Bertram's pet pug has been run over and needs to be replaced.'

'Again?' replied Havisham. 'That must be the sixth. I wish she'd be more careful.'

'Seventh. You can pick it up from stores.'

He turned his attention to me.

'Miss Havisham says you are ready to take the practical test to bring you up from apprentice to restricted agent.'

'I'm ready,' I replied, thinking I was anything but.

'I'm sure you are,' answered the Bellman thoughtfully, 'but it is is a bit soon if it weren't for the shortage caused by Mrs Nakajima's retirement, I think you would remain as an apprentice for a few more months. a bit soon if it weren't for the shortage caused by Mrs Nakajima's retirement, I think you would remain as an apprentice for a few more months.

Well,' he sighed, 'can't be helped. I've had a look at the duty roster and I think I've found an a.s.signment that should test your mettle. It's an Internal Plot Adjustment order from the Council of Genres.'

Despite my natural feelings of caution, I was also, to my shame, excited excited by a practical test of my abilities. by a practical test of my abilities.

d.i.c.kens? Hardy? Perhaps even Shakespeare.

' Shadow the Sheepdog Shadow the Sheepdog,' announced the Bellman, 'by Enid Blyton. It needs to have a happy ending.'

' Shadow ... the Sheepdog Shadow ... the Sheepdog,' I repeated slowly, hoping my disappointment didn't show. 'Okay. What do you want me to do?'

'Simple. As it stands, Shadow is blinded by the barbed wire, so he can't be sold to the American film producer. Up ending because he isn't sold, down ending because he is blinded and useless. All we need to do is to have him miraculously regain his sight the next time he goes to the vet on page ...' He consulted his clipboard. '... two thirty-two.'

'And,' I said cautiously, not wanting the Bellman to realise how unprepared I was, 'what plan are we going to use?'

'Swap dogs,' replied the Bellman simply. 'All collies look pretty much the same.'

'What about Vestigial Plot Memory?' asked Havisham. 'Do we have any smoothers?'

'It's all on the job sheet,' returned the Bellman, tearing off a sheet of paper and handing it to me. 'You do know all about smoothers, of course?'

'Of course!' I replied.

'Good. Any more questions?'

I shook my head.

'Excellent!' exclaimed the Bellman. 'Just one more thing. Bradshaw is investigating the Perkins incident.

Would you make sure he gets your reports as soon as possible?'

'Of course!'

'Er ... good.'

He made a few 'must get on' noises and left.

As soon as he had gone I said to Havisham: 'Do you think I'm ready for this, ma'am?'

'Thursday,' she said in her most serious voice, 'listen to me. Jurisfiction has need of agents who can be trusted to do the right thing.' She looked around the room. 'Sometimes it is difficult to know whom we can trust. Sometimes the sickeningly self-righteous like you are the last bastion of defence against those who would mean the BookWorld harm.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning you can stop asking so many questions and do as you're told just pa.s.s this practical first time.

Understand?'

'Yes, Miss Havisham.'

'That's settled, then,' she added. 'Anything else?'

'Yes,' I replied. 'What's a smoother?'

'Do you not read your TravelBook?'

'It's quite long,' I pleaded. 'I've been consulting it whenever possible but have still got no farther than the preface.'

'Well,' she began as we jumped to Wemmick's Stores in the lobby of the Great Library, 'plots have a sort of inbuilt memory. They can spring spring back to how they originally ran with surprising ease.' back to how they originally ran with surprising ease.'