STOP PLAYING DEAD, MISTER TEH-AH-TIM-EH.

"You got it…. right?"

OF COURSE.

The room faded to a hazy grey. Even Death himself blurred at the edges, and vanished. Teatime found himself alone, surrounded by a strange swirling fog. Without really knowing why, he started to walk forward. For the first time in his life (and death) Teatime found his mind totally empty. He had been used to a head of clicking and whirring, full of neat little cogs and pulley systems, with every thought slotting precisely into place. Now however… there was nothing. Not even the thought of nothing. It was all just gone.

"Welcome."

Teatime blinked, or would have, if he had still had eyelids. The scenery had changed. The fog had been replaced by a bright white plateau, with the Discworld itself spread out in miniature far below like a patchwork quilt. It looked as thought somebody had spilt the best part of a Klatchian takeaway over there, although closer inspection revealed it to be Ankh-Morpork.

There was a person, or at least a being, in front of him. The details all seemed rather vague and unimportant, but he noticed the eyes. Thousands upon thousands of them, hovering in the air around them. Every last one was fixed on Teatime.

There was a pause.

"It would be advisable to bow."

Teatime did, with some reluctance.

"What happens now?"

"I will ignore your impertinence this time, mortal. I am Blind Io, chief of the gods. We have a proposition for you."

"You wish me to inhume somebody?"

"You ask far too many questions. Listen, and you will be told. We hear that you have a talent for achieving the physically impossible. If you fulfil this contract, we will grant you the status of demi-god. That is, you will be impervious to old age and physical illness, but can still be killed through fatal injury. If you fail, your client will punish you as he sees fit."

"What if I choose not to accept the contract?"

"This will never have happened. You will die just like any other mortal."

"I accept. Will I be granted my life back to complete the contract?"

"Yes. But you will be bound to us. If at any point you try to escape, we will consider it a failure of your task."

"I see. And who is my client?"

"Fate."

Teatime hesitated, trying to gather the little information he remembered regarding Fate. This was much harder without the actual grey matter there to remember it with, and it didn't help that he had never been particularly religious. He knew that all the gods could control their outward appearance, save for their eyes. Fate's were black, apparently. That narrowed it down considerably.

"Why?"

"Sorry?"

"Why do you want me to kill Fate? What is the motive behind our contract?"

"Oh. That. He always cheats."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

"And then the little girl hit the big nasty ogre square between his eyes, but not hard enough to kill him because she knew that violence is not an acceptable solution for all of life's problems. The end."

Susan glanced down. Gawain and Twyla were fast asleep and snoring gently. She smiled to herself, put down the book on the bedside table and tiptoed out of the room, blowing out the candle as she went. She was just turning to head for her own bedroom when-

GOOD EVENING SUSAN.

Susan stifled a yawn, trying to hide her disappointment.

"Good evening Grandfather."

I HAVE A JOB FOR YOU.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I have my own life now. I can't just run off to do your errands whenever you feel like it."

THE FUTURE OF THE HUMAN RACE DEPENDS ON YOUR SUCCESS.

"You used to say that to make Mum tidy her bedroom."

Death looked puzzled.

I DID?

"Yes."

BUT IT'S TRUE THIS TIME.

"You used to say that as well."

OH. I SEE.

"Indeed."

WHAT IF I TOLD YOU THAT BLIND IO AND THE OTHER GODS HAVE COMMISSIONED SOMEONE TO KILL FATE?

"I would say that that's impossible. Fate can't be killed."

MAYBE NOT KILLED. BUT DELETED.

"But what would be so wrong with that? Surely it would just give humans more say in how their lives pan out?"

PERHAPS, AT FIRST. BUT IT WOULDN'T TAKE LONG FOR HISTORY TO BEGIN TO UNRAVEL. CERTAIN THINGS NEED TO HAPPEN IN ORDER FOR THE WORLD TO MAKE SENSE. IT IS FATE'S JOB TO MAKE SURE THAT THEY DO.

"But if the gods know this, why are they trying to kill him?"

HE CHEATS AT CARDS, APPARENTLY. THE GODS DO NOT LIKE A BAD WINNER.

Susan sighed. "And what have I got to do with all this?"

I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN STOP THIS. BUT I AM BUSY. I HAVE THE DUTY. SO YOU WILL HAVE TO DO IT. I'M SORRY.

"So am I."

YOU WILL DO IT. I HAVE FAITH IN YOU.

"Just allow me to clarify this. Gods can't be killed, but someone is trying to kill Fate. That someone can't be stopped, except by Death. And I'm supposed to find Fate and protect him from this contract killer."

I'M GLAD YOU UNDERSTAND.

"But what about my job? What about the children?"

I AM SURE YOU WILL FIND TIME. YOU GENERALLY DO.

Susan gave up.

"Fine. You win. Where do I start?"

YOU REMEMBER MR. TEATIME?

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