'Your name, I believe, is Masklin,' he said.
Masklin couldn't deny it.
'I don't understand!' he said. 'You can see me! Ten minutes ago you said I didn't even exist and now you're talking to me!' 'There is nothing strange about it,' said the Abbot. 'Ten minutes ago it was official. Goodness me, I can't go around letting people believe that I've been wrong all along, can I? The Abbots have been denying there is anything Outside for generations. I can't suddenly say they were all wrong. People would think I've gone mad.' Would they?' said Masklin.
'Oh, yes. Politics, you see. Abbots can't go changing their minds all the time. You'll find this out. The important thing about being a leader is not being right or wrong, but being certain. Otherwise people wouldn't know what to think. Of course, it helps to be right as well,' the Abbot conceded. He leaned back.
'There were terrible wars in the Store, once,' he said. 'Terrible wars. A terrible time. Nome against nome. Decades ago, of course. It seemed that there was always some nome who thought his family should rule the Store. The Battle of the Freight Elevator, the Goods Inwards Campaign, the dreadful Mezzanine Wars... But that's past, now. And do you know why?' 'No,' said Masklin.
'We stopped it. The Stationeri. By cunning and common sense and diplomacy. We made them see that Arnold Bros (est. 1905) expects nomes to be at peace with one another. Now then. Supposing that I, in there, had said I believed you. People would have thought, the old boy has gone off his head:' The Abbot chuckled. 'And then they'd have said, have the Stationeri been wrong all this time? They would have panicked. Well, of course, that would never do. We must hold the nomes together. You know how they bicker at every opportunity.' 'That's true,' said Masklin. 'And they always blame you for everything and say, what're you going to do about it?' 'You've noticed, have you?' said the Abbot, smiling. 'It seems to me that you have exactly the right qualification for being a leader.' 'I don't think so!' 'That's what I mean. You don't want to be one. I didn't want to be Abbot.' He drummed his fingers on his walking stick, and then looked sharply at Masklin.
'People are always a lot more complicated than you think,' he said. 'It's very important to remember that.' 'I will,' said Masklin, not knowing what else to say.
'You don't believe in Arnold Bros (est. 1905), do you?' &aid the Abbot. It was more a statement than a question.
'Well, er-' 'I've seen him, you know. When I was a boy. I climbed all the way up to Consumer Accounts, by myself and hid, and I saw him at his desk writing.' 'Oh?' 'He had a beard.' 'Oh.' The Abbot drummed his fingers on his stick. He seemed to be making up his mind about something. Then he said, 'Hmm. Where was your home?' Masklin told him. Funnily, it seemed a lot better now he looked back on it. More summers than winters, more nuts than rat. No bananas or electric or carpets, but plenty of fresh air. And in memory there didn't seem to be as much drizzle and frost. The Stationeri listened politely.
'It was a lot better when we had more people,' Masklin finished. He glanced at his feet. 'You could come and stay. When the Store is demothinged.' The Abbot laughed. 'I'm not sure I'd fit in,' he said. 'I'm not sure I want to believe in your Outside. It sounds cold and dangerous. Anyway, I shall be going on a rather more mysterious journey. And now, please excuse me, I must rest.' He thumped on the floor with his stick. Gurder appeared as if by magic.
'Take Masklin away and educate him a little,' said the Abbot, 'and then the both of you come back here. But leave that black box, please. I wish to learn more about it. Put it on the floor.' Masklin did so. The Abbot poked it with his stick.
'Black box,' he said, 'what are you, and what is your purpose?' 'Jam the Flight Recorder and Navigation Computer of the starship Swan. I have many functions. My current major function is to guide and advise those nomes shipwrecked when their scout ship crashed here fifteen thousand years ago.' 'It talks like this all the time,' said Masklin apologetically.
'Who are these nomes of which you speak?' said the Abbot.
'All nomes.' 'Is that your only purpose?' 'I have also been given the task of keeping nomes safe and taking them home.' 'Very commendable,' said the Abbot. He looked up at the other two.
'Run along, then,' he commanded. 'Show him a little of the world, Gurder. And then I shall have a task for both of you.' Educate him a little, the Abbot had said.
That meant starting with The Book of Nome, which consisted of pieces of paper sewn together with marks on them.
'Humans use it for cigarettes,' said Gurder, and read the first dozen verses. They listened in silence, and then Granny Morkie said, 'So this Arnold Bros-' '-(est. 1905)-' said Gurder primly.
Whatever,' said Granny. 'He built the Store just for nomes?' 'Er. Ye-ess,' said Gurder, uncertainly.
'What was here before, then?' said Granny.
'The Site.' Gurder looked uncomfortable. 'You see, the Abbot says there is nothing outside the Store. Urn.' 'But we've come-' 'He says that tales of Outside are just dreams.' 'So when I said all that about where we lived, he was just laughing at me?' said Masklin.
'It is often very hard to know what the Abbot really believes,' said Gurder. 'I think most of all he believes in Abbots.' 'You believe us, don't you?' said Grimma. Gurder nodded, half-hesitantly.
'I've often wondered where the lorries go, and where the humans come from,' he said. 'The Abbot gets very angry when you mention it, though. The other thing is, there's been a new season. That means something. Some of us have been watching humans, and when there's a new season something unusual is happening.' 'How can you have seasons when you don't know about weather?' said Masklin.
Weather has got nothing to do with seasons. Look, someone can take the old people down to the Food Hall, and I'll show you two. It's all very odd. But-' and now Gurder's face was a picture of misery '-Arnold Bros (est. 1905) wouldn't destroy the Store, would he?'
6
iii. And Arnold Bros (est. 1905) said, Let there be Signs, so that All within shall know the Proper Running of the Store.
iv. On the Moving Stairs, let the Sign Be: Dogs and Pushchairs Must be Carried; v. And Arnold Bros (est. 1905) waxed wroth, for many carried neither dog nor pushchair; vi. On the Lifts, let the Sign Be: This Lift to Carry Ten Persons; vii. And Arnold Bros (est. 1905) waxed wroth, for oftimes the Lifts carried only two or three; viii. And Arnold Bros (est. 1905) said, Truly Humans are Stupid, who do not understand plain language.
From The Book of Nome, Regulations v.III-VIII It was a long walk through the busy underfloor world.
They found that Stationeri could go where they liked. The other departments didn't fear them, because the Stationeri weren't a true department. There were no women and children, for one thing.
'So people have to join?' said Masklin.
We are selected,' Gurder corrected. 'Several intelligent boys from each department every year. But when you're a Stationeri, you have to forget about your department and serve the whole Store.' Why can't women be Stationeri, then?' said Grimma.
'It's a well-known fact that women can't read,' said Gurder. 'It's not their fault, of course. Apparently their brains get too hot. With the strain, you know. It's just one of those things.' 'Fancy,' said Grimma. Masklin glanced sideways at her. He'd heard her use that sweet, innocent tone of voice before. It meant that, pretty soon, there was going to be trouble.
Trouble or not, it was amazing the effect that Gurder had on people. They would stand aside and bow slightly as he went past, and one or two of them held small children up and pointed him out. Even the guards at the border-crossings touched their helmets respectfully.