For exactly the same reason, a single fixed probability mist is not the only statistical structure with which Platonia can be endowed. Platonia can also be equipped with transition probabilities between pairs of states. The result is to convert Platonia into what statisticians call a `Markov chain', which is just like the list of transition probabilities for snakes and ladders, but more general. If Platonia is made into a Markov chain, each sequence of configurations gets its own probability. The most probable sequences are those that contain large numbers of highly probable states - these look oddly like Barbour's time capsules. So instead of single-state Platonia we get sequentialstate Markovia, where the universe makes transitions through whole sequences of configurations, and the most likely transitions are the ones that provide a coherent history - narrativium.

This Markovian approach offers the prospect of bringing time back into existence in a Platonian universe. In fact, it's very similar to how Susan Sto Helit and Ronnie Soak managed to operate in the cracks between the instants, in Thief of Time.

Tick.

THE FISH IS OFF

Two HOURS LATER A SINGLE sheet of paper slid off Hex's writing table. Ponder picked it up.

`There are about ten points where we must intervene to ensure that The Origin is written,' he said.

'well, that doesn't seem too bad,' said Ridcully. `We got Shakespeare born, didn't we?[1] We just have to tinker.'

`These look a little more complicated,' said Ponder, doubtfully.

`But Hex can move us around,' said Ridcully. `It could be fun, especially if something or someone is playing les buggeurs risibles. It could be educational, Mr Stibbons.'

`And they do really good beer, ` said the Dean. `And the food was excellent. Remember that goose we had last time? I've seldom eaten better.'

`We will be setting out to save the world,' said Ridcully, severely. `We will have other things on our minds!'

`But there will be mealtimes, yes?' said the Dean Second Lunch and Mid-afternoon Snack went past almost unnoticed. Perhaps the wizards were already leaving space for goose ...

[1] Yes, they did - in The Science of Discworld II.

It was turning out to be a long day. Easels had been set up around Hex. Paper was strewn across every table. The Librarian had practically built up a branch library in one corner, and was still fetching books from the distant reaches of L-Space.

And the wizards had changed their clothes, ready for hands-on intervention. There had barely been a discussion about it, not after the Dean had mentioned the goose. Hex had a great deal of control over the Globe, but when it came to the fine detail you needed to be hands-on, especially hands on cutlery. Hex had no hands. Besides, he'd explained at length, there was no such thing as absolute control, not in a fully functioning universe. There was just a variable amount of lack of control. In fact, Ponder thought, Hex was a Great Big Thing as far as Roundworld was concerned. Almost ... godlike. But he still couldn't control everything. Even if you knew where every tiny spinning particle of stuff was, you couldn't know what it'd do next.

The wizards would have to go in. They could do that. They'd done it before. No trouble is too much if it saves some excellent chefs from extinction.

Clothing, at least, would not be a problem. Give or take the odd pointy hat and staff, the wizards would be able to walk the Roundworld streets without attracting a second glance.

`How do we look?' said the Archchancellor, as they reassembled.

`Very ... Victorian,' said Ponder. `Although technically, at the moment, very Georgian. Very ... tweedy, anyway. Are you totally happy with the bishop look, Dean?'

`Isn't that appropriate for the time?' said the Dean, looking worried. `We looked through the book on costumes and I thought...' His voice trailed off. `It's the mitre, isn't it ...'

`And the crozier,' said Ponder.

'I wanted to fit in, you see.'

`In a cathedral, yes.. I'm afraid it's plain black suit with gaiters for street wear. However, you can do anything you like with your beard and you can wear hats a small child could stand up inside. But on the streets, bishops are quite dull.'

`Where's the fun in that?' said the Dean, sulkily.

Ponder turned to Rincewind.

`As for you, Rincewind, can I ask why you are wearing nothing but a loincloth and a pointy hat?

'Ah, well, you see, if you don't know what you're getting into, naked always works,' said Rincewind. `It's the all-purpose suit. At home in every culture. Admittedly you sometimes get-'

`In tweed, that man!' barked Ridcully. `And no pointy hat!' Against a background of grumbling he turned then to the Librarian. `And as for you, sir ... a suit too. And a stovepipe hat. You need the height!'

'Ook!' said the Librarian.

`I am the Archchancellor, sir! I insist! And a false beard, I think. False eyebrows, too. Let Mr Darwin be your model here! These Victorians were very civilised people! Hair everywhere! Keep the knuckling to a minimum and they'll make you Prime Minister! Very well, gentlemen. Back here in half an hour!

The wizards assembled. A circle of white light appeared on the floor. They stepped inside, there was a change in the sounds made by Hex, and they vanished.

They landed knee-deep in the mire of a peat bog, causing bubbles of foul air to burst around them.

`Mr Stibbons!' Ridcully bellowed.

`Sorry, sir, sorry,' said Ponder quickly. `Hex, raise us by two feet, please.'

`Yes, but we're still soaked,' grumbled the Dean, as they floated up in the air. `You seem to have, ah, "mucked up", Mr Stibbons!' 'No, sir, I wanted to show you a Charles Darwin in the wild,' said Ponder. 'Here he comes now ...

A large and energetic young man bounded out of the weeds and went to clear a black pool with a vaulting pole. The pole immediately sank one-third of its length into the sucking ground and its athletic owner sailed off into the mud. He came up holding a small water plant. Oblivious of the noisome bubbling around him, he waved the plant triumphantly at some distant companions, pulled his pole out of the peat with some effort, and splashed away.

`Did he see us?' said Rincewind.

`No, not yet. That's young Darwin,' said Ponder. `Very keen on collecting all sorts of wildlife. Collecting was enormous popular among the English of this century. Bones, shells, butterflies, birds, other people's countries ... all sorts of things.'

`Man after my own heart!' said Ridcully, cheerfully. `I had the best pressed lizard collection ever when I was that age!'

`Can't see a beagle anywhere, though,' said Rincewind, gloomily. He got edgy in the absence of his hat, and tried to stand under things.

The Chair of Indefinite Studies looked up from the thaumometer in his hand.

`No magic disturbance, no nothing,' he said, looking around at the marshes. `Is Hex sure? The only strange thing here is us.'

`Let's get started, shall we?' said Ridcully. `Where to next?' `Hex, move us to London, will you?' said Ponder. `Location 7.' The wizards didn't apparently move, but the landscape around them wavered and changed.

It became an alleyway. There were a lot of street noises nearby. `I'm sure you all read the briefing I prepared this morning.' said Ponder, brightly.

`Are you also sure were not back in Ankh-Morpork?' said Ridcully loudly. `I'd swear I can smell the river!'

`Ah, then perhaps I'd better just remind you of the important points,' said Ponder wearily. `The list of major things that might impede Darwin's progress-'

`I remember about the giant squid,' Rincewind volunteered.

`Hex can handle the giant squid,' said Ponder.