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 Store was on fire.
Flames fluttered at some of the upper windows like curtains in a breeze. A pall of smoke rose gently from the roof and made a darker column against the rainy sky. The Store was having its last sale. It was holding a Grand Final Clearance of specially selected sparks, and flames to suit every pocket.
Humans bustled around in the street below it. There were a couple of lorries with ladders on them. It looked as though they were spraying water into the building.
Masklin looked sidelong at Gurder, wondering what the nome was going to do. In fact he took it a lot better than Masklin would have believed, but when he spoke it was in a wound-up way, as if he was trying to keep his voice level.
'It's... it's not how I imagined it,' he croaked.
'No,' said Masklin.
'We... we got out just in time.' 'Yes.' Gurder coughed. It was as if he'd just had a long debate with himself and had reached a decision. 'Thanks to Arnold Bros (est. 1905),' he said firmly.
Pardon?' Gurder stared at Masklin's face. 'If he hadn't called you to the Store, we'd all still be in there,' he said, sounding more confident with every word. 'But-' Masklin paused. That didn't make any sense. If they hadn't left, there wouldn't have been a fire. Would there? Hard to be sure. Maybe some fire had got out of a fire bucket. Best not to argue. There were some things people weren't happy to argue about, he thought. It was all very puzzling.
'Funny he's letting the Store burn,' he said.
'He needn't,' said Gurder. 'There's the sprinklers, and there's these special things, to make the fire go out. Fire Exits, they're called. But he let the Store burn because we don't need it any more.' There was a crash as the entire top floor fell in on itself.
'There goes Consumer Accounts,' said Masklin. 'I hope all the humans got out.' 'Who?' 'You know. We saw their names on the doors. Salaries. Accounts. Personnel. General Manager,' said Masklin.
'I'm sure Arnold Bros (est. 1905) made arrangements,' said Gurder.
Masklin shrugged. And then he saw, outlined against the firelight, the figure of Prices Slashed. There was no mistaking that hat. He was even holding his torch, and he was deep in conversation with some other humans. When he half turned, Masklin saw his face. He looked very angry.
He also looked very human. Without the terrible light, without the shadows of the Store at night, Prices Slashed was just another human.
On the other hand...
No, it was too complicated. And there were more important things to do.
'Come on,' he said. 'Let's get back. I think we should get as far away as possible as quickly as we can.' 'I shall ask Arnold Bros (est. 1905) to guide us and lead us,' said Gurder firmly.
'Yes, good,' said Masklin. 'Good idea. And why not? But now we really must-' 'Has his Sign not said If You Do Not See What You Require, Please Ask?' said Gurder.
Masklin took him firmly by the arm. Everyone needs something, he thought. And you never know.
'I pull this string,' said Angalo, indicating the thread over his shoulder and the way it disappeared down into the depths of the cab, 'and the leader of the steering wheel left-puffing team will know I want to turn left. Because it's tied to his arm. And this other one goes to the right-pulling team. So we won't need so many signals and Dorcas can concentrate on the gears and things. And the brakes~ After all,' he added, 'we can't always rely on a wall to run into when we want to stop.' 'What about lights?' said Masklin. Angalo beamed. 'Signal for the lights,' he said, to the nome with flags. 'What we did was, we tied threads to switches-' There was a click. A big metal arm moved across the windscreen, clearing away the raindrops. They watched it for a while.
'Doesn't really illuminate much, does it?' said Grimma.
Wrong switch,' muttered Angalo. 'Signal to leave the wipers on but put on the lights.' There was some muffled argument below them, and then another click. Instantly the cab was filled with the dull throbbing sound of a human voice.
'It's all right,' said Angalo. 'It's only the radio. But it's not the lights, tell Dorcas~' 'I know what a radio is,' said Gurder. 'You don't have to tell me what a radio is.' 'What is it, then?' said Masklin, who didn't know.
'Twenty-Nine Ninety-Five, Batteries Extra,' said Gurder. 'With AM, FM, and Auto-Reverse Cassette. Bargain Offer, Not to Be Repeated.' 'Am and Fum?' said Masklin.
'Yes.' The radio voice droned on.
'-ggest fire in the town's history, with firemen coming in from as far afield as Newtown. Meanwhile, police are searching for one of the store's lorries, last seen leaving the building just before-' 'The lights. The lights. Third switch along,' said Angalo. There was a few seconds pause, and then the alley in front of the lorry was bathed in white light.
'There should be two, but one got broken when we left the Store,' said Angalo. 'Well, then, are we ready?' '-Anyone seeing the vehicle should contact Grimethorpe police on-' 'And turn off the radio,' said Angalo. 'That mooing gets on my nerves.' 'I wish we could understand it,' said Masklin. 'I'm sure they're fairly intelligent, if only we could understand it.' He nodded at Angalo. 'Okay,' he said. 'Let's go.' It seemed much better this time. The lorry scraped along the wall for a moment and then came free, and moved gently down the narrow alley towards the lights at the far end. As the lorry came out from between the dark walls, Angalo called for the brakes, and it stopped with only a mild jolt.
Which way?' he said. Masklin looked blank.
Gurder fumbled through the pages of the diary.
'It depends on which way we're going,' he said. 'Look for signs saying, er, Africa. Or Canada, perhaps.' 'There's a sign,' said Angalo, peering through the rain. 'It says Town Centre. And then there's an arrow and it says-' He squinted. 'Onny-' 'One Way Street,' murmured Grimma.
'Town Centre doesn't sound like a good idea,' said Masklin.
'Can't seem to find it on the map, either,' said Gurder.
We'll go the other way, then,' said Angalo, hauling on a thread.
'And I'm not sure about One Way Street,' said Masklin. 'I think you should only go along it one way.' Well, we are,' said Angalo smugly. 'We're going this way.' The lorry rolled out of the side road and bumped neatly on to the pavement.
'Let's have second gear,' said Angalo. 'And a bit more go-faster pedal.' A car swerved slowly out of the lorry's way, its horn sounding - to nome ears - like the lost wail of a foghorn. 'Shouldn't be allowed on the road, drivers like that,' said Angalo. There was a thump, and the remains of a street light bounced away. 'And they put all this stupid stuff in the roadway, too,' he added. 'Remember to show consideration for other road-users,' said Masklin, severely.