Terry Pratchett - Johnny and the Bomb

TERRY PRATCHETT

I would like to thank the Meteorological Office, the Royal Mint, and my old friend Bernard Pearsonwho, if he doesnt know something, always knows a man who doesfor their help in the research for this book. When historical details are wrong, its my fault for not listening. But who knows what really happened in the other leg of the Trousers of Time?

Chapter 1: After the Bombs

Chapter 2: Mrs. Tachyon

Chapter 3: Bags of Time

Chapter 4: Men in Black

Chapter 5: The Truth Is Out of Here

Chapter 6: The Olden Days

Chapter 7: Heavy Mental

Chapter 8: Trousers of Time

Chapter 9: Every Little Girl

Chapter 10: Running into Time

Chapter 11: You Want Fries with That?

Chapter 12: Up Another Leg

Chapter 13: Some Other Now

About the Author

Other Books by Terry Pratchett

Credits

Cover

Copyright

About the Publisher

I t was nine oclock in the evening, in Blackbury High Street.

It was dark, with occasional light from the full moon behind streamers of worn-out cloud. The wind was from the southwest and there had been another thunderstorm, which freshened the air and made the cobbles slippery.

A police sergeant moved, very slowly and sedately, along the street.

Here and there, if someone was very close, they might have seen the faintest line of light around a blacked-out window. From within came the quiet sounds of people living their livesthe muffled notes of a piano as someone practiced scales, over and over again, and the murmur and occasional burst of laughter from the radio.

Some of the shop windows had sandbags piled in front of them. A poster outside one shop urged people to Dig for Victory, as if it were some kind of turnip.

On the horizon, in the direction of Slate, the thin beams of searchlights tried to pry bombers out of the clouds.

The policeman turned the corner and walked up the next street, his boots seeming very loud in the stillness.

The beat took him up as far as the Methodist chapel, and in theory would then take him down Paradise Street, but it didnt do that tonight because there was no Paradise Street anymore. Not since last night.

There was a truck parked by the chapel. Light leaked out from the tarpaulin that covered the back.

He banged on it.

You cant park that ere, gents, he said. I fine you one mug of tea and we shall say no more about it, eh?

The tarpaulin was pushed back and a soldier jumped out. There was a brief vision of the interiora warm tent of orange light, with a few soldiers sitting around a little stove, and the air thick with cigarette smoke.

The soldier grinned.

Give us a mug and a wad for the sergeant, he said to someone in the truck.

A tin mug of scalding black tea and a brick-thick sandwich were handed out.

Much obliged, said the policeman, taking them. He leaned against the truck.

Hows it going, then? he said. Havent heard a bang.

Its a twenty-five-pounder, said the soldier. Went right down through the cellar floor. You lot took a real pounding last night, eh? Want a look?

Is it safe?

Course not, said the soldier cheerfully. Thats why were here, right? Come on. He pinched out his cigarette and put it behind his ear.

I thought you lotd be guarding it, said the policeman.

Its dark, and its been pouring, said the soldier. Whos going to steal an unexploded bomb?

Yes, but The sergeant looked in the direction of the ruined street.

There was the sound of bricks sliding.

Someone is, by the sound of it, he said.

What? Weve got warning signs up! said the soldier. We only knocked off for a brew-up! Oi!

Their boots crunched on the rubble that had been strewn across the road.

It is safe, isnt it? said the sergeant.

Not if someone drops a dirty great heap of bricks on it, no! Oi! You!

The moon came out from behind the clouds. They could make out a figure at the other end of what remained of the street, near the wall of the pickle factory.

The sergeant skidded to a halt.

Oh, no, he whispered. Its Mrs. Tachyon.

The soldier stared at the small figure that was dragging some sort of cart through the rubble.

Whos she?

Lets just take it quietly, shall we? said the sergeant, grabbing his arm.

He shone his flashlight and set his face into a sort of mad friendly grin.

That you, Mrs. Tachyon? he said. Its me, Sergeant Bourke. Bit chilly to be out at this time of night, eh? Got a nice warm cell back at the station, yes? I daresay there could be a big hot mug of cocoa for you if you just come along with mehow about that?

Cant she read all them warning signs? Is she mental? said the soldier under his breath. Shes right by the house with the bomb in the cellar!

Yesnoshes just different, said the sergeant. Bittouched. He raised his voice. You just stay where you are, love, and well come and get you. Dont want you hurting yourself on all this junk, do we?

Here, has she been looting? said the soldier. She could get shot for that, pinching stuff from bombed-out houses!

No ones going to shoot Mrs. Tachyon, said the sergeant. We know her, see? She was in the cells the other night.

Whatd she done?

Nothing. We let her nap in a spare cell in the station if its a nippy night. I gave her sixpence and a pair of ole boots what belonged to me mum only yesterday. Well, look at her. Shes old enough to be your granny, poor old biddy.

Mrs. Tachyon stood and watched them owlishly as they walked, very cautiously, toward her.

The soldier saw a wizened little woman wearing what looked like a party dress with layers of other clothes on top, and a woolly hat with a bobble on it. She was pushing a wire cart on wheels. It had a metal label on it.

Tescos, he said. Whats that?

Dunno where she gets half her stuff, muttered the sergeant.

The cart seemed to be full of black bags. But there were other things, which glittered in the moonlight.

I know where she got that stuff, muttered the soldier. Thats been pinched from the pickle factory!

Oh, half the town was in there this morning, said the sergeant. A few jars of gherkins wont hurt.

Yeah, but you cant have this sort of thing. Ere, you! Missus! You just let me have a look at

He reached toward the cart.

Some sort of demon, all teeth and glowing eyes, erupted from it and clawed the skin off the back of his hand.

Blast! Ere, help me get hold of

But the sergeant had backed away.

Thats Guilty, that is, he said. I should come away if I was you!

Mrs. Tachyon cackled.

Thunderbirds Are Go! she chortled. Wot, no bananas? Thats what you think, my old dollypot!

She hauled the cart around and trotted off, dragging it behind her.

Hey, dont go in there the soldier shouted.

The old woman hauled the cart over a pile of bricks. A piece of wall collapsed behind her.

The last brick hit something far below, which went boink.

The soldier and the policeman froze in mid run.

The moon went behind a cloud again.

In the darkness, there was a ticking sound. It was far off, and a bit muffled, but in that pool of silence both men heard it all the way up their spines.

The sergeants foot, which had been in the air, came down slowly.

How longve you got if it starts to tick? he whispered.

There was no one there. The soldier was accelerating away.

The policeman ran after him and was halfway up the ruins of Paradise Street before the world behind him suddenly became full of excitement.