‘Ah, my lord,’ he said, glancing up. ‘And what is the problem?’

‘Is there a problem?’ said Lord Vetinari.

‘There generally is, my lord, when you come to see me.’

‘Very well,’ said Lord Vetinari. ‘I wish to get several people to the centre of the world as soon as possible.’

‘Ah, yes,’ said Leonard. ‘There is much treacherous terrain between here and there. Do you think I have the smile right? I've never been very good at smiles.’

‘I said–’

‘Do you wish them to arrive alive?’

‘What? Oh… yes. Of course. And fast.’

Leonard painted on, in silence. Lord Vetinari knew better than to interrupt.

‘And do you wish them to return?’ said the artist, after a while. ‘You know, perhaps I should show the teeth. I believe I understand teeth.’

‘Returning them would be a pleasant bonus, yes.’

‘This is a vital journey?’

‘If it is not successful, the world will end.’

‘Ah. Quite vital, then.’ Leonard laid down his brush and stood back, looking critically at his picture. ‘I shall require the use of several sailing ships and a large barge,’ he said, after a while. ‘And I will make a list of other materials for you.’

‘A sea voyage?’

‘To begin with, my lord.’

‘Are you sure you don't want further time to think?’ said Lord Vetinari.

‘Oh, to sort out the fine detail, yes. But I believe I already have the essential idea.’

Vetinari looked up at the ceiling of the workroom and the armada of paper shapes and bat-winged devices and other aerial extravaganzas that hung there, turning gently in the breeze.

‘This doesn't involve some kind of flying machine, does it?’ he said suspiciously.

‘Um… why do you ask?’

‘Because the destination is a very high place, Leonard, and your flying machines have an inevitable downwards component.’

‘Yes, my lord. But I believe that sufficient down eventually becomes up, my lord.’