There was indeed a fuzzy picture of Grandson Richard, 39, under thewords: TV-IN-THE-SKY HITCH.
She knelt down and stared at the smaller words below it.
"Read it aloud!" they said.
"'Richard Arnold, the Blackbury-based chairman of the ArncoInternational Group, said in Florida today,' " she read, " 'thatscientists are still trying to r-r-regain control of Arnsat 1, the multi- roillion-pound corn ... communications sat ... tellite ...' "
The nomes looked at one another.
"Multimillion pound," they said, "That's really heavy."
'Hopes were high after yesterday's s-s-successful l-lunch in Florida,'
" Grimma read uncertainly " 'that Arnsat 1 would begin testtr-tr-transmissions today. Instead, it is s-sending a stream of strangesig ... signals. "It's like some sort of c-code," said Arnold, 39 ..." ' "
There was an appreciative murmur from the listeners.
" 'It's as if it had a mind of its own,' " Grimma read.
There was more stuff about "teething troubles," whatever that meant, butGrimma didn't bother to read it.
She remembered the way Masklin had talked about the stars, and why theystayed up. And there was the Thing. He'd taken it with him. The Thingcould talk to electricity, couldn't it? It could listen to theelectricity in wires, and the stuff in the air that Dorcas called"radio." If anything could send strange signals, the Thing could. / maygo even further than the Long Drive, he'd said.
"They're alive," she said, to no one in particular. "Masklin and Gurderand Angalo. They got to the Florida place and they're alive."
She remembered him trying to tell her, sometimes, about the sky and theThing and where nomes first came from, and she'd never really understood, any more than he'd understood about the little frogs.
"They're alive," she repeated. "I know they are. I don't know exactly howor where, but they've got some sort of plan and they're alive."
The nomes exchanged meaningful glances, and the kind of meaning they werefull of was, She's fooling herself, but it'd take a braver nome than meto tell her.
Granny Morkie patted her gently on the shoulder.
"Yes, yes," she said soothingly. "And thank goodness they had asuccessful lunch. I bet they needed to get some food inside of them. Andif I was you, my girl, I'd get some sleep."
Grimma dreamed.
It was a confused dream. Dreams nearly always are. They don't come neatlypackaged. She dreamed of loud noises and flashing lights. And eyes.
Little yellow eyes. And Masklin, standing on a branch, climbing throughleaves, peering down at little yellow eyes.
Fm seeing what he's doing now, she thought. He's alive. I always knew hewas, of course. But outer space has got more leaves than I thought. Orperhaps none of it is real and Pm just dreaming ...
Then someone woke her up.
It's never wise to speculate about the meaning of dreams, so she didn't.
It snowed again in the night, on an icy wind. Some of the nomes scoutedaround the sheds and came back with a few vegetables that had been"missed, but it was a pitifully small amount. The tied-up human went tosleep after a while, and snored like someone sawing a thick log with athin saw.
"The others will come looking for it in the morning," Grimma warned.
"We mustn't be here then. Perhaps we should-"
She stopped. They all listened.
Something was moving around under the floorboards.
"Is anyone still down there?" Grimma whispered.
The nomes near her shook their heads. No one wanted to be in the chillyspace under the floor when there was the warmth and light of the officefor the having.
"And it can't be rats," she said.
Then someone called out in that half-loud, half-soft way of someone whowants to make himself heard while at the same time remaining as quiet aspossible.
It turned out to be Sacco.
They dragged aside the floorboards the humans had loosened and helped himup. He was covered in mud and swaying with exhaustion.
"I couldn't find anyone!" he gasped. "I looked everywhere and I couldn'tfind anyone and we saw the trucks come here and I saw the lights on and Ithought the humans were still here and I came in and I heard your voicesand you've got to coine because it's Dorcas!"
"He's alive?" said Grimma. "If he isn't, he can swear pretty well for a dead person," said Sacco, sagging to the floor. "We thought you were all de-" Grimma began. "We're all fine except for Dorcas. He hurt himself jumping out of the truck! Come on, pleaseV "You don't look in any state to go anywhere," said Grimma. She stood up.
"You just tell us where he is." "We got him halfway up the road and we got so tired and I left them and came on ahead," Sacco blurted out. "They're under the hedge and-" His eyes fell on the snoring bulk of the human. He stared at Grimma. "You've captured a humanf' he said. He stumbled sideways. "Need a bit of a rest. So tired. So tired," he repeated, vaguely. Then he fell forward. Grimma caught him and laid him down as gently as she could. "Someone put him somewhere warm and see if there's any food left," she said to the nomes in general. "And I want some of you to help me look for the others. Come on. This isn't a night for being outside." The expression on the faces of some of the nomes said that they definitely agreed with this point of view, and that among the people who shouldn't be out on a night like this was themselves. "It's snowing quite a lot," said one of them, uncertainly. "We'll never find them in all the dark and snow." Grimma glared at him. "We might," she said. "We might find them in all the dark and snow. We won't find them by staying in the light and warm, I know that much." Several nomes pushed their way forward. Grimma recognized Nooty's people, and the parents of some of the lads. Then there was a bit of a commotion from under the table, where the oldest nomes were clustering together to keep warm and have a good moan. "I'm comin' too," said Granny Morkie. "Do me good to have a drop of fresh air. What you all lookin' at me like that for?" "I think you ought to stay inside, Granny," said Grimma gently. "Don't you come the bein'-tactful-to-old-people to me, my gel," said Granny, prodding her with her stick. "I bin out in deep snow before you was even thought of." She turned to the rest of the nomes. "Nothin' to it if you acts sensible and keeps yellin' out so's everyone knows where everyone is. I went out to help look for my uncle Joe before I was a year old," she said, proudly. "Dreadful snow, that was. It come down sudden, like, when the men were out huntin'. We found nearly all of him too." "Yes, yes, all right, Granny," said Grimma quickly. She looked at the others. "Well, we're going," she said.
In the end fifteen of them went, many out of sheer embarrassment.
In the yellow light from the shed windows the snowflakes lookedbeautiful. By the time they reached the ground they were prettyunpleasant.
The Store nomes really hated the Outside snow. There had been snow in theStore, too, sprayed on merchandise around Christmas Fayre time. But itwasn't cold. And snowflakes were huge beautiful things that were hungfrom the ceilings on bits of thread. Proper snowflakes. Not ghastlythings which looked all right in the air but turned into freezing wetstuff which was allowed to just lie around on the floor.
It already was deep as their knees.
"What you do is," said Granny Morkie, "you lift your feet up really highand plonk them down. Nothin' to it."
The light from the shed shone out across the quarry, but the dirt roadwas a dark tunnel leading into the night.
"And spread out," said Grimma. "But keep together."
"Spread out and keep together," they muttered.
A senior nome put his hand up.
"You don't get robins at night, do you?" he asked cautiously.
"No, of course not," said Grimma.
"No, you don't get robins at night, silly," said Granny Morkie.
They looked relieved.
"No, you get foxes," Granny added, in a self-satisfied way. "Great bigfoxes. They get good and hungry in the cold weather. And maybe you getowls." She scratched her chin. "Cunnin' devils owls. You never hear 'em till they'r
e almost on top o' you." She banged on the wall with herstick. "Look sharp, you lot. Best foot forward. Unless you're like myuncle Joe-a fox got 'is best foot, 'e 'ad to have a wooden leg, 'e waslivid."
There was something about Granny Morkie's cheering people up that alwaysgot them moving. Anything was better than being cheered up some more.
The snowflakes were caking up on the dried grasses and ferns on eitherbank. Every now and again some of it fell off, sometimes onto the dirtroad, often onto the nomes stumbling along it. They prodded the snowytussocks and peered doubtfully into the gloomy holes under the hedge, while the flakes continued to fall in a soft, crackly silence. Robins, owls, and other terrors of the Outside lurked in every shadow.
Eventually the light was left behind and they walked by the glow of thesnow itself. Sometimes one of them would call out, softly, and thenthey'd all listen.
It was very cold.
Granny Morkie stopped suddenly.
"Fox," she announced. "I can smell it. Can't mistake a fox. Rank."
They huddled together and stared apprehensively into the darkness.
"Might not still be around, mind," said Granny. "Hangs about for a longtime, that smell."
They relaxed a bit.
"Really, Granny," muttered Grimma.
"I was just tryin' to be a help," sniffed Granny Morkie. "You don't wantmy help, you've only got to say."
"We're doing this wrong," said Grimma. "It's Dorcas we're looking for. Hewouldn't just be sitting out in the open, would he? He knows aboutfoxes. He'd get the boys to find somewhere sheltered and as safe aspossible."
Nooty's father stepped forward.
"If you look the way the snow falls," he said hesitantly, "you can seethe air conditioning is blowing it this way." He pointed. "So it piles upmore on this side of things than that side. So they'd want to be as muchaway from the air conditioning as possible, wouldn't they?"
"It's called the wind, when it's Outside," said Grimma gently. "Butyou're right. That means"-she peered at the hedges-"they'd be on theother side of the hedge. In the field, up against the bank. Come on."
They scrambled up through the masses of dead leaves and dripping twigsand into the field beyond.
It was desolate. A few tufts of dead grass stuck above the endlesswilderness of snow. Several of the nomes groaned.
It's the size, Grimma thought. They don't mind Ae quarry, or the thicketsabove it, or even the ~ad, because a lot of it is closed in and you canpretend there are sort of walls around you. It's too big for them here.
"Stick close to the hedge," she said, more cheerfully than she felt.
"There's not so much snow there."
Oh, Arnold Bros. (est. 1905), she thought. Dorcas doesn't believe in you, and I certainly don't believe in you, but if you could just see your wayclear to existing just long enough for us to find them, we'd allappreciate it very much. And perhaps if you could stop the snow and seeus all safely back to the quarry as well, that would be a big help.
That's crazy, she thought. Masklin always said that if there was anArnold Bros., he was sort of inside our heads, helping us think.
She realized that she was staring at the snow.
Why is there a hole in it? she thought.
Chapter 12
IV. There is nowhere to go, and we must go.
-From the Book of Nome, Exits III, v. IV
"Rabbits, I thought," she said.
Dorcas patted her hand.
"Well done," he said weakly.
"We were on the road after Sacco left," said Nooty, "and it was gettingreally cold and Dorcas said to take him to the other side of the hedgeand, well, it was me who said you can see rabbits in this fieldsometimes, and be said find a rabbit hole. So we did. We thought we'd behere all night."
"Ow," moaned Dorcas.
"Don't make a fuss, I didn't hurt a bit," said Granny Morkie cheerfully, as she examined his leg. "Nothin' broken, but it's a nasty sprain."
The Store nomes looked around the burrow with interest and a certain amount of approval. It was nicely closed in.
"Your ancestors probably lived in holes like this," said Grimma. "Withshelves and things, of course."
"Very nice," said a nome. "Homey. Almost like being under the floor."
"Stinks a bit," said another,
"That'll be the rabbits," said Dorcas, nodding toward the deeperdarkness. "We've heard them rustling about, but they're staying out ofour way. Nooty said he thought there was a fox snuffling around a whileago."
"We'd better get you back as soon as possible," said Grimma. "I don'tthink any fox would bother the pack of us. After all, the local ones knowwho we are. Eat a nome and you die, that's what they've learned."
The nomes shuffled their feet. It was true, of course. The trouble was, they thought, that the person who'd really regret it the most would bethe one nome who was eaten. Knowing that the fox might be given a badtime afterward wouldn't be much consolation.
Besides, they were cold and wet and the burrow, while it wouldn't havesounded like a very comfortable proposition back at the quarry, wassuddenly much better than the horrible night outside. They'd staggeredpast a dozen burrows, calling down into the gloom, before they'd heardNooty's voice answering them.
"I really don't think we need worry," said Grimma. "Foxes learn veryquickly. Isn't that so, Granny?"
"Eh?" said Granny Morkie.
"I was telling everyone how foxes learn quickly," said Grimmadesperately.
"Oh, yes. Right enough," said Granny. "He'll go a long way out of his wayfor something he likes to eat, will your average fox. Especially when it's cold weather."
"I didn't mean that! Why do you have to make everything sound so body
"I'm sure I don't mean to," said Granny Morkie, and sniffed.
"We must get back," said Dorcas firmly. "This snow isn't just going to goaway, is it? I can get along okay if I've got someone to lean on."
"We can make you a stretcher," said Grimma. "Though goodness knows thereisn't much to get back to."
"We saw the humans go up the road," said Nooty. "But we had to go all theway along to the badger tunnel and there were no real paths. Then wetried to cut across the fields at the bottom and that was a mistake, theywere all plowed up. We haven't had anything to eat," he added.
"Don't expect much, then," said Grimma. "The humans took most of oursupplies. They think we're rats."
"Well, that's not so bad," said Dorcas. "We used to encourage them tothink we were, back in the Store. They used to put traps down. We used tohunt rats in the basement and put them in the ~aps, when I was a lad."
"Now they're using poisoned food," said Grimma.
"That's not good."
"Come on. Let's get you back."
The snow was still falling outside, but raggedy fashion, as if the lastflakes in stock were being sold off cheaply. There was a line of redlight in the east -not the dawn, but the promise of the dawn. It didn'tlook cheerful. When the sun did rise, it would find itself locked behindbars of cloud.
They broke off some pieces of dead cow-parsley stalks to make a roughsort of chair for Dorcas, which four nomes could carry. He'd been rightabout the shelter of the hedge. The snow wasn't very deep there, but itmade up for it by being littered with old leaves, twigs, and debris. Itwas slow going.
It must be great to be a human, Grimma thought as thorns the length ofher hand tore at her dress. Masklin was right, this really is theirworld. It's the right size for them. They go where they want and dowhatever they like. We think we do things for ourselves and all we do islive in odd corners of their world-under their floors, stealing things.
The other nomes trudged along in weary silence. The only sound, apartfrom the crunch of feet on snow and leaves, was that of Granny Morkieeating. She'd found some hawthorn berries on a bush and was chewing herway through one with every sign of enjoyment. She'd offered them around, but the other nomes found them bitter and unpleasant.
"Prob'ly an acquired taste," she muttered,
glaring at Grimma.
It's one we all are going to have to acquire, thought Grimma, ignoringGranny's hurt stare. The only hope we've got is to split up and leave thequarry in little groups, once we get back. Move out into the country, goback to living in old rabbit holes and eating whatever we can find. Somegroups may survive the winter, once the old people have died off.
And it'll be good-bye electricity, good-bye reading, good-bye bananas ...
But I'll wait at the quarry until Masklin comes back.
"Cheer up, my girl," said Granny Morkie, trying to be friendly. "Don'tlook so gloomy. It may never happen, that's what I always say."
Even Granny was shocked when Grimma looked at her with a face from whichall the color had drained away. The girl's mouth opened and shut a fewtimes.
Then she folded up, very gently, and collapsed to her knees and startedto sob.
It was the most shocking sound they'd heard. Grimma yelled, complained, bullied, and commanded. Hearing her cry was wrong, as though the wholeworld had turned upside down.
"All I did was try to cheer her up," mumbled Granny Morkie.
The embarrassed nomes stood around in a circle. No one dared go nearGrimma. Anything might happen. If you tried to pat her on the shoulderand say "There, there," anything might happen. She might bite your handoff, or anything.
Dorcas looked at the nomes on either side of him sighed, and easedhimself up off his makeshift stretcher. He limped over to Grimma, catching hold of a thorn twig to steady himself.
"You've found us, we're going back to the quarry, everything's allright," he said soothingly.
"It isn't! We'll have to move on!" she sobbed. "You'd have been better off staying in the hole! It's all gone bad!"
"Well, I would have said-" Dorcas began.
"We've got no food and we can't stop the humans and we're trapped in thequarry and I've tried to keep everyone together and now it's all gonebad!"
"We ought to have gone up to that barn right at the start," said Nooty.
"You still could," said Grimma. "All the younger people could. Just getas far away from here as possible!"
"But children couldn't walk it, and old people certainly couldn't managethe snow," said Dorcas. "You know that. You're just despairing."
The Bromeliad 2 - Diggers Page 9
