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"I don't like the look of this," said Grimma quietly. "The big familiesnever used to get on too well with the Stationeri, so why are they up there now.'

"Grubby pieces of work, some of them," said Dorcas.

Some of the Stationeri had been particularly upset about common, everyday nomes learning to read. They said it gave people ideas, Dorcasgathered, which were not a good thing unless they were the right kindof ideas. And some of the great families hadn't been too happy aboutnomes being able to go where they pleased, without having to askpermission.

They're all up there, he thought the nomes who haven't done so well sincethe Drive. They all lost a little power.

Nisodemus was explaining his plan. As he listened, Dorcas's mouth slowlydropped open.

It was magnificent in its way, that plan. It was like a machine whereevery single part was perfectly made, but had been put together by aone-handed nome in the dark. It was crammed full of good ideas which youcouldn't sensibly argue with, but they had been turned upside down. Thetrouble was, they were still ones you couldn't sensibly argue with, because the basically good idea was still in there somewhere.

Nisodemus wanted to rebuild the Store.

The nomes stood in horrified admiration as the Stationeri explained that, yes, Abbot Gurder bad been right, when they left the Store they had takenArnold Bros. (est. 1905) with them inside their heads. And, if they couldshow him that they really cared about the Store, he would come out againand put a stop to all these problems and reestablish the Store here, inthis green unpleasant land.

That was how it all arrived in Dorcas's head, anyway. He'd long agodecided that if you spent all your time listening to what people actuallysaid you'd never have time to work out what they meant.

But it wouldn't mean building the whole Store, said Nisodemus, his eyesshining like two bright black marbles. They could change the quarry inother ways. Go back to living in proper Departments instead of any oldhow all over the place. Put up some signs. Get back to the Good Old Ways.

Make Arnold Bros. (est. 1905) feel at home. Build the Store inside theirheads.

Nomes didn't often go mad. Dorcas vaguely recalled an elderly nome whohad once decided that he was a teapot, but he'd changed his mind after afew days.

Nisodemus, though, had definitely been getting too much fresh air.

It was obvious that one or two other nomes thought so too.

"I don't quite see," said one of them, "how Arnold Bros. (est. 1905) isgoing to stop these humans. No offense meant."

"Did humans interfere with us when we were in the Store?" demanded Nisodemus.

"Well, no, because-"

"Then trust in Arnold Bros. (est. 1905)!"

"But that didn't keep the Store from being demolished, did it?" said avoice. "When it came to it, you all trusted Masklin and Gurder and theTruck. And yourselves! Nisodemus is always telling you how clever youare. Try and be clever, then!"

Dorcas realised it was Grimma. He'd never seen anyone so angry.

She pushed her way through the apprehensive nomes until she was face toface or at least, since he was standing on something and she wasn't, faceto chest. Nisodemus was one of those people who liked standing on things.

"What will actually happen, then?" she shouted. "When you've built theStore, what will happen? Humans came into the Store, you know!"

Nisodemus's mouth opened and shut for a while. Then he said, "But theyobeyed the regulations! Yes! Um! That's what they did! And things werebetter then!"

She glared at him.

"You don't really think people are going to accept that, do you?" shesaid.

There was silence.

"You've got to admit," said an elderly nome, very slowly, "things werebetter then."

The nomes shuffled their feet.

That was all you could hear.

Just people, shuffling their feet.

"They just accepted it!" said Grimma, "Just like that! No one's botheredabout the council anymore! They just do what he tells them! Even GrannyMorkie's no help! She just sits around with all the old people, talking!

I told her she should help me, and all she said was that she's too old toworry about young fools like Nisodemus! She says, in ten years' timewho'll care?"

Now she was in Dorcas's workspace under a bench in the old quarry garage.

My little sanctuary, he always called it. My little nook. Bits of wireand tin were scattered everywhere. The wall was covered with scrawls donewith a bit of pencil lead.

Dorcas sat and twirled a bit of wire aimlessly.

"You're being hard on people," he said quietly. "You shouldn't yell atthem like that. They've been through a lot. They get all confused if youshout at them. The council was all right for when times were good ..."

He shrugged. "And without Masklin and Gurder and Angalo, well, ithardly seems worthwhile."

"But after all that's happened!" She waved her arms. "To act so stupidly, just because he's offered them-"

"A bit of comfort," said Dorcas. He shook his head. You couldn't explainthings like this to people like Grimma. Nice girl, bright head on her, but she kept thinking that everyone else was as passionate about things as she was. All people really wanted, Dorcas considered, was to be leftalone. The world was quite difficult enough as it was without peoplegoing around trying to make it better all the time.

Masklin had understood that. He knew the way to make people do what youwanted was to make them think it was their idea. If there was one thingthat got right up a nome's nose, it was people saying to them, "Here isa really sensible idea-what are you, too stupid to understand?"

It wasn't that people were stupid. It was just that people were people.

"Come on," he said wearily. "Let's go and see how the signs are gettingon."

The whole of the floor of one of the big sheds had been turned over tothe making of the signs. Or rather, the Signs. Another thing Nisodemuswas good at was giving words capital letters. You could hear him doingit.

Dorcas had to admit that the Signs were a pretty good idea, though. Hefelt guilty about thinking this.

He'd thought that when Nisodemus had summoned him and asked if therewas any paint in the quarry, only now the quarry was being called the NewStore.

"Urn," Dorcas had said, "There are some old paint cans, white and red, mainly, under one of the benches. We might be able to lever the topsoff."

"Then do it. It is very important. Um. We must make Signs," said theStationer!.

"Signs. Right," said Dorcas. "Cheer the place up a bit, you mean?"

"No!"

"Sorry, sorry, I just thought-"

"Signs for the gate!"

Dorcas scratched his chin. "The gate?" he said.

"Humans obey Signs," said Nisodemus, calming down. "We know that. Didthey not obey the Signs in the Store?"

"Most of 'em," agreed Dorcas. "Dogs and Strollers Must Be Carried" hadalways puzzled him. Lots of humans didn't carry either.

"Signs make humans do things," said Nisodemus, "Or stop doing things. Soget to work good Dorcas. Signs. Um. Signs that say 'No.' "

Dorcas had given this a lot of thought as teams of nomes sweated to pryopen the lids of the paint-streaked cans. They still had the High WayCode from the Truck, and there were plenty of signs in there. And hecould remember some of the signs from the Store.

Then there was a stroke of luck. Normally the nomes stayed at floorlevel, but Dorcas had taken to sending his young assistants onto the bigdesk in the quarry manager's office occasionally, where there were usefulscraps of paper. Now he needed to work out what the signs should say.

Sacco and Nooty came back with the news. They'd found more signs. Oldones. A great big grubby notice pinned to the wall, covered with signs.