[Static; a quiet buzzing that blends into the sound of voices - excited yet hushed - none of them quite audible enough to make out words. Heels on a marble floor; the creak of a door; the faint sound of a distant hubbub and the rattle of a hundred camera shutters before everything is muted again.
Then there's a voice that's louder than the rest -
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The truth is not always pleasant, or something we wish to hear.
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[His own voice is flat and somewhat weary, but there's a spark of sarcasm, still.]
If you presented me with more cases to examine, Mr Vimes, we might meet more often.
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I'd probably present you with more of 'em if we had ones to study. Most of them tend to be pretty straightforward. When two blokes are brawling in the street, there's not many questions to be asked.
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But he's not about to let this devolve into public argument about Truth's relative merits. Besides, it's not something that Justice can prove with evidence or testimony - that in every way, Truth was a better person than he was himself. Or that somowhow, he knows that it was his failure which had allowed Truth - then the other, the twin - to be removed from the Sphere. So he bites his tongue.]
Indeed. I suppose that I should be grateful for the relative lack of wrongdoing lately.
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If it is even real.
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[A long pause, but really he's somewhat tired of trying to be positive, despite how much Truth had impressed on him that he should.]
Many people are content to believe it. I am not so easily satisfied.
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No two people will use the same words to describe a sunset. And yet it is still a sunset.
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The rest is interpretation - claim and counter claim. Those are the paradoxes that we must seek to erase.
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