Masklin was up on the platform with Angalo, Gurder and the Thing. Gurder knew even less about lorries than Masklin, but it was felt best to have him there, just in case. After all, they were stealing Arnold Bros (est. 1905)'s lorry. Someone might have to do some explaining. But he'd drawn the line about having Bobo in the cab. The rat was back with everyone else.
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.