Grimma was there, too. Gurder asked her what she was doing there. She asked him what he was doing there. They both looked at Masklin.
'She can help me with the reading,' he said, secretly relieved. He wasn't, despite lots of effort, all that good at it. There seemed to be a knack he couldn't get the hang of. Grimma, on the other hand, seemed to do it now without thinking. If her brain was exploding, it was doing it in unnoticeable ways.
She nodded smugly and propped The High Way Code open in front of him.
'There's things you've got to do,' he said uncertainly. 'Before you start, you've got to look in a mur-' '-mirror-' said Grimma.
'-.mirror. That's what it says here. Mirror,' said Masklin, firmly.
He looked enquiringly at Angalo, who shrugged. 'I don't know anything about that,' he said. 'My driver used to look at it, but I don't know why.' 'Do you have to look for anything special? I mean, perhaps you have to make a face in it or something,' said Masklin.
Whatever it is, we'd better do things properly,' said Gurder firmly. He pointed. 'There's a mirror up there, near the ceiling.' 'Daft place to put it,' said Masklin. He managed to hook it with a grapnel and, after some effort, pulled himself up to it.
'Can you see anything?' Gurder called out.
'Just me.' Well, come on back down. You've done it, that's the main thing.' Masklin slid back down to the decking, which wobbled under him.
Grimma peered at the Code.
'Then you've got to signal your intentions,' she' said. 'That's clear, anyway. Signaller?' One of Dorcas's assistants stepped forward a bit uncertainly, holding his two white flags carefully downwards.
'Yes, sir ma'am?' he said.
'Tell Dorcas-' Grimma looked at the others.
'Tell him we're ready to start.' 'Excuse me,' said Gurder. 'If it's anyone's job to tell them when we're ready to start, it's my job to tell them we're ready to start. I want it to be quite clear that I'm the person who tells people to start.' He looked sheepishly at Grimma. 'Er. We're ready to start,' he said.
'Right you are, ma'am.' The signaller waved his arms briefly. From far below the engineer's voice boomed back: 'Ready!' 'Well, then,' said Masklin. 'This 'is it, then.' 'Yes,' said Gurder, glaring at Grimma. 'Is there anything we've forgotten?' 'Lots of things, probably,' said Masklin.
'Too late now, at any rate,' said Gurder.
'Yes.' 'Yes.' 'Right then.' 'Right.' They stood in silence for a moment.
'Shall you give the order, or shall I?' said Masklin.
'I was wondering whether to ask Arnold Bros (est. 1905) to watch over us and keep us safe,' said Gurder. 'After all, we may be leaving the Store but this is still his lorry.' He grinned wretchedly, and sighed. 'I wish he'd give us some sort of sign,' he said, 'to show he approved.' 'Ready when you are, up there!' shouted Dorcas. Masklin went to the edge of the platform and leaned on the flimsy rail.
The whole of the floor of the cab was covered in nomes, holding ropes in readiness or waiting by their levers and pulleys. They stood in absolute silence in the shadows, but every face was turned upwards, so that Masklin looked down at a sea of frightened and excited blobs.
He waved his hand.
'Start the engine,' he said, and his voice sounded unnaturally loud in the expectant silence.
He walked back and looked out into the bright emptiness of the garage. There were a few other lorries parked against the opposite wall, and one or two of the small yellow loading trucks stood where the humans had left them. To think he'd once called it a lorry nest! Garage, that was the word. It was amazing, the feeling you got from knowing the right names. You felt in control. It was as if knowing what the right name was gave you a sort of lever.
There was a whirring noise from somewhere in, front of them, and then the platform shook to a thunder roll. Unlike thunder, it didn't die away. The engine had started.
Masklin grabbed hold of the rail before he was shaken off, and felt Angalo tug on his sleeve.
'It always sounds like this!' he shouted above the din. 'You get used to it after a while!' 'Good!' It wasn't a noise. It was too loud to be called a noise. It was more like solid air.
'I think we'd better practise a bit! To get the hang of it! Shall I tell the signaller that we want to move forward very slowly?' Masklin nodded grimly. The signaller thought for a moment, and then waved his flags.
Masklin could distantly hear Dorcas yelling orders. There was a grinding noise, followed by a jolt that almost knocked him over. He managed to land on his hands and knees, and looked into Gurder's frightened face.
We're moving!' shouted the Stationeri.
Masklin stared out of the windscreen.
'Yes, and you know what?' he yelled, springing up. We're moving backwards!' Angalo staggered over to the signaller, who had dropped one of his flags.
'Forward slowly, I said! Forward slowly! Not backward! Forward!' 'I signalled Forward!' 'But we're going backward! Signal them to go forward!' The signaller scrabbled for his other flag and waved frantically at the teams below.
'No, don't signal forward, just signal them to sto-' Masklin began.
There was a sound from the far end of the lorry. The only word to describe it was 'crunch', but that's far too short and simple a word to describe the nasty, complicated, metallic noise and the jolt that threw Masklin on his stomach again. The engine stopped.
The echoes died away.
'Sorree!' Dorcas called out, in the distance. They heard him talking in a low, menacing voice to the teams: 'Satisfied? Satisfied, are we? When I said move the Gear Lever up and left and up I meant up 'and left and up, not up and right and up! Right?' 'Your right or our right, Dorcas?' 'Any right!' 'No, but-' 'Don't you but me!' 'Yes, but-' Masklin and the others sat down as the argument skidded back and forth below them. Gurder was still lying on the planks.
We actually moved!' he was whispering. 'Arnold Bros (est. 1905) was right. Everything Must Go!' 'I'd like it to go a little further, if it's all right by him,' said Angalo grimly.
'Hello up there!' Dorcas's voice boomed with mad cheerfulness. 'Little bit of teething trouble down here. All sorted out now. Ready when you are!' 'Should I look in the mirror again, what do you think?' said Masklin to Grimma. She shrugged.
'I shouldn't bother,' said Angalo. 'Let's just go forwards. And as soon as possible, I think. I can smell dies-all. We must have knocked over some drums of it or something.' 'That's bad, is it?' said Masklin.
'It burns,' said Angalo. 'It just needs a spark or something to set it off.' The engine roared into life again. This time they did inch forward, after some grinding noises, and rolled across the floor until the lorry was in front of the big steel door. It stopped with a slight jerk.
'Like to try a few practice turns,' shouted Dorcas. 'Smooth out a few rough edges!' 'I really think it would be a very bad idea to stay here,' said Angalo urgently.
'You're right,' said Masklin. 'The sooner we get out of here the better. Signal Dorcas to open the door.' The signaller hesitated. 'I don't think we've got a signal for that,' he said. Masklin leaned over the rail.
'Dorcas!' 'Yes?' 'Open the door! We've got to get out now!' The distant figure cupped his hand to its ear.
What?' 'I said open the door! It's urgent!' Dorcas appeared to consider this for a while, and then raised his megaphone.
'You'll laugh when I tell you this,' he said.
What was that?' said Grimma.
'He said we're going to laugh,' said. Angalo.
'Oh. Good.' 'Come on!' shouted Masklin. Dorcas's reply was lost in the din from the engine.
'What?' shouted Masklin.
'What?' 'What did you say?' 'I said, in all this rush I clean forgot about the door!' 'What'd he say?' said Gurder.
Masklin turned and looked at the door. Dorcas had been very proud of the way he'd stopped it opening. Now it had an extremely closed look If something with no face could look smug, the door had managed it.
He turned back in exasperation, and also in time to see the
small door to the rest of the Store swing slowly open. There was a figure there, behind a little circle of sharp white light.
His terrible torch, Masklin thought again.
It was Prices Slashed.
Masklin felt his mind begin to think very clearly and slowly.
It's just a human, it said. It's nothing scary. Just a human, with its name on it in case it forgets who it is, like all those female humans in the Store with names like 'Tracy' and 'Sharon' and 'Mrs J. E. Williams, Supervisor'. This is just old 'Security' again. He lives down in the boiler-room and drinks tea. He's heard the noise.
He's come to find out what made it.
That is, us.
'Oh, no,' whispered Angalo, as the figure lurched across the floor. 'Do you see what it's got in its mouth?' 'It's a cigarette. I've seen humans with it before. What about it?' said Masklin.
'It's alight,' said Angalo. 'Do you think it can't even smell the dies-all?' 'What happens if it catches alight, then?' said Masklin, suspecting that he knew the answer.
'It goes whoomph,' said Angalo.
'Just whoomph?' 'Whoomph is enough.' The human came nearer. Masklin could see its eyes now. Humans weren't very good at seeing nomes even when they were standing still, but even a human would wonder why a lorry was driving itself around its garage in the middle of the night.
Security arrived at the cab and reached out slowly for the door-handle. His torch shone in through the side window, and at that moment Gurder reared up, trembling with rage.
'Begone, foul fiend!' he yelled,' illuminated as by a spotlight. 'Heed ye the Signs of Arnold Bros (est. 1905)! No Smoking! Exit This Way!' The human's face wrinkled in ponderous astonishment and then, as slowly as the drift of clouds, became an expression of panic. It let go of the door-handle, turned, and began to head for the little door at what, for a human, was high speed. As it did so the glowing cigarette fell from its mouth and, turning over and over, dropped slowly towards the floor.
Masklin and Angalo looked at each other, and then at the signaller.
'Go fast!' they shouted.
A moment later the entire lorry juddered as the teams tackled the complicated process of changing gear. Then it rolled forward.
'Fast! I said fast!' Masklin shouted.
'What's going on?' shouted Dorcas. 'What about the door?' 'We'll open the door! We'll open the door!' shouted Masklin.
'How?' 'Well, it didn't look very thick, did it?' The world of nomes is, to humans, a rapid world. They live so fast that the things that happen around them seem quite slow, so the lorry seemed to drift across the floor, up the ramp and hit the door in a leisurely way. There was a long-drawn-out boom and the noise of bits of metal being torn apart, a scraping noise across the roof of the cab, and then there was no door at all, only darkness studded with lights.
'Left! Go left!' Angalo screamed.
The lorry skidded around slowly, bounced lazily off a wall, and rolled a little way down the street.
'Keep going! Keep going! Now straighten up!' A bright light that shone briefly on the wall outside the cab.
And then, behind them, a sound like 'whoomph'.
13
i. Arnold Bros (est. 1905) said, A1t~ is now Finished; ii. All Curtains, Carpeting, Bedding, Lingerie, Toys, Millinery, Haberdashery, Ironmongery, Electrical; iii. All walls, floors, ceilings, lifts, moving stairs; iv. Everything Must Go.
From The Book of Nome, Exits Chap. 3 v.I-IV Later on, when the next chapters of The Book of Nome came to be written, they said the end of the Store started with a bang. This wasn't true, but was put in because bang sounded more impressive. In fact, the ball of yellow and orange fire that rolled out of the garage, carrying the remains of the door with it, just made a noise like a giant dog gently clearing its throat.
Whoomph.
The nomes weren't in a position to take much notice of it at the time. They were more concerned with the noise made by other things nearly hitting them.
Masklin had been prepared for other vehicles on the road. The High Way Code had a lot to say about it. It was important not to drive into them. What was worrying him was the way they seemed determined to run into the lorry. They emitted long blaring noises, like sick cows.
'Left a bit!' Angalo shouted. 'Then right just a smidgen, then go straight!' 'Smidgen?' said the signaller, slowly. 'I don't think I know a code for smidgen. Could we-' 'Slow! Now left a bit! We've got to get on the right side of the road!' Grimma peered over the top of The High Way Code.
'We are on the right side,' she said.
'Yes, but the right side should be the left side!' Masklin jabbed at the page in front of them. 'It says here we've got to show cons consy-' 'Consideration,' murmured Grimma.
'-consideration for other road-users,' he said. A jolt threw him forward. 'What was that?' he said.
'Us going on to the pavement! Right! Right!' Masklin caught a brief glimpse of a brightly lit shop window before the lorry hit it sideways on and bounced back on to the road in a shower of glass.
'Now left, now left, now right, right! Straight! Left, I said left!' Angalo peered at the bewildering pattern of lights and shapes in front of them.
'There's another road here,' he said. 'Left! Give me left! Lots and lots of left! More left than that. ... !' 'There's a sign,' said Masklin, helpfully.
'Left!' shrieked Angalo. 'Now right. Right! Right!' 'You wanted left,' said the signaller accusingly.
'And now I want right! Lots of right! Duck!' 'We haven't got a signal for-' This time 'whoomph' wouldn't have done. It was definitely 'bang'. The lorry hit a wall, ground along it in a spray of sparks, rolled into a pile of dustbins and stopped.
There was silence, except for the hissing sounds and pink, pink noises from the engine.
Then Dorcas's voice came up from the darkness, slow and full of menace.
'Would you mind telling us down here,' it said, 'what you're doing up there?' 'We'll have to think of a better way of steering,' Angalo called down. 'And lights. There should be a switch somewhere for lights.' Masklin struggled to his feet. The lorry appeared to be stuck in a dark, narrow road. There were no lights anywhere.
He helped Gurder stand up, and brushed him down. The Stationeri looked bewildered.
We're there?' he said.
'Not quite,' said Masklin. We've stopped to, er, sort out a few things. While they're doing that I think we'd better go back and check that everyone's all right. They must be getting pretty worried. You come too, Grimma.' They climbed down and left Angalo and Dorcas deep in argument about steering, lights, clear instructions and the need for a proper supply of all three.
There was a gabble of voices in the back of the lorry, mixed with the crying of babies. Quite a few nomes had been bruised by the throwing about, and Granny Morkie was tying a splint to the broken leg of a nome who had been caught by a falling box when they hit the wall.
Wee bit rougher than the last time,' she commented drily, tying a knot in the bandage. 'Why've we stopped?' 'Just to sort out a few things,' said Masklin, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. We'll be moving again soon. Now that everyone knows what to expect.' He gazed down at the dark shadowy length of the lorry, and inquisitiveness overcame him.
'While we're waiting, I'm going to take a look outside,' he said.
'What on earth for?' said Grimma.
'Just to, you know, look around,' said Masklin awkwardly. He nudged Gurder. 'Want to come?' he said.
'What? Outside? Me?' The Stationeri looked terrified, 'You'll have to sooner or later. Why not now?' Gurder hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged.
Will we be able to see the Store,' he licked his dry lips, 'from the outside?' he said.
'Probably. We haven't really gone very far,' said Masklin, as diplomatically as he could.
A team of nomes helped them over the end of the lorry and they swung down on to what Gurder would almost certainly have called the floor. It was damp, and a fine spray hung in the air. Masklin breathed deeply. T
his was outside, all right. Real air, with a slight chill to it. It smelled fresh, not as though it had been breathed by thousands of nomes before him.
'The sprinklers have come on,' said Gurder.
'The what?' 'The sprinklers,' said Gurder. 'They're in the ceiling, you know, in case of f...' He stopped, and looked up. 'Oh, my,' he said.
'I think you mean the rain,' said Masklin.
'Oh, my.' 'It's just water coming out of the sky,' said Masklin. He felt something more was expected of him. 'It's wet,' he added, 'and you can drink it. Rain. You don't have to have pointy heads. It just rolls off anyway.' 'Oh, my.' 'Are you all right?' Gurder was trembling. 'There's no roof!' he moaned. 'And it's so big!' Masklin patted him on the shoulder.
'Of course, all this is new to you,' he said. 'You mustn't worry if you don't understand everything.' 'You're secretly laughing at me, aren't you!' said Gurder.
'Not really. I know what it's like to feel frightened.' Gurder pulled himself together. 'Frightened? Me? Don't be foolish. I'm quite all right,' he said. 'Just a little, er, surprised. I, er, wasn't expecting it to be quite so, quite so, quite so outside. Now I've had time to come to terms with it, I feel much better. Well, well. So this is what it's like,' he turned the word around his tongue, like a new sweet, 'outside. So, er, big. Is this all of it, or is there any more?' 'Lots,' said Masklin. 'Where we lived, there was nothing but outside from one edge of the world to the other.' 'Oh,' said Gurder weakly. 'Well, I think this will be enough outside to be going on with. Very good.' Masklin turned and looked up at the lorry. It was almost wedged in an alleyway littered with rubbish. There was a large dent in the end of it.
The opening at the far end of the alley was bright with street lights in the drizzle. As he watched, a vehicle swished by with a blue light flashing. It was singing. He couldn't think of any other word to describe it.
'How odd,' said Gurder.
'It used to happen sometimes at home,' said Masklin. It was secretly rather pleasing, after all this time, to be the one who knew things~ 'You'd hear ones go along the motorway like that. Dee-dah dee-dah DEE-DAH DEE-DAH dee-dah. I think it's just to get people to get out of the way.' They crept along the gutter and craned to look over the pavement at the corner, just as another bawling car hurtled past. 'Oh, Bargains Galore!' said Gurder, and put his hands over his mouth.
The Bromeliad 1 - Truckers Page 13
