She stared at the pages, and tried to get interested in levers.
The clouds running before the sun were spreading across the pink of thesky. Red sky in the morning, Grimma had read once. It meant sailorswere unhappy. She didn't know what sailors were, though, or why they madethe sky red when they were unhappy.
In the dark office the human awoke, mooed for a while, and tried to jerkfree of the cobweb of wires that held it down. After a lot of effort it wriggled most of one arm free.
What the human did next would have surprised most nomes. It caught holdof a chair and, with a great deal of grunting, managed to tip it over. Itpulled it across the floor, manipulated the leg under a couple ofstrands of wire, and heaved.
A minute later it was sitting upright, pulling more wires free.
Its huge eyes fell on the scrap of paper on the floor.
It stared at it for a moment, rubbing its arms, and then it picked up thetelephone.
Dorcas prodded vaguely at a wire.
"Are you sure the battery is connected the right way, sir?" said Sacco.
"I can tell the difference between red wires and black wires, you know," said Dorcas mildly, prodding another wire.
"Then perhaps the battery doesn't have enough electricity," said Grimmahelpfully, trying to see over their shoulders. "Perhaps it's all run tothe bottom, or gone dry."
Dorcas and Sacco exchanged glances.
"Electricity doesn't sink," said Dorcas patiently. "Or dry up, as far asI know. It's either there or it isn't. Excuse me." He peered up into themass of wires again, and gave one a poke. There was a pop, and a fat bluespark.
"It's there all right," he added. "It's just that it isn't where itshould be."
Grimma walked back across the greasy floor of the cab. Groups of nomeswere standing around, waiting. Hundreds of them were clutching the wiresattached to the big steering wheel above them. Other teams stood by withbits of wood pressing, like battering rams, on the pedals.
"Just a bit of a delay," she said. "All the electricity's got lost."
There were nomes everywhere. On the Long Drive there had been a wholetruck for them. But the Cat's cab was smaller, and people had to packthemselves in where they could.
What a ragged bunch, Grimma thought. And it was true. Even in the suddenrush from the Store the nomes had been able to bring a lot of stuff. Andthey had been plump and well dressed.
Now they were thinner and leaner and much dirtier and all they weretaking with them were the torn and grubby clothes they stood up in. Even the books had been left behind. A hundred books took up the space ofthree hundred nomes, and while Grimma privately thought that some of thebooks were more useful than many of the nomes, she'd accepted Dorcas'spromise that they would come back one day and try to retrieve them fromtheir hiding place under the floor.
Well, thought Grimma. We tried. We really made an effort. We came to thequarry to dig in, look after ourselves, live proper lives. And we failed.
We thought all we had to do was bring the right things from the Store, but we brought a lot of wrong things too. Next time we'll need to go asfar away from humans as possible, and I don't actually think anywhere isfar enough.
She climbed up onto the rickety driving platform, which had been madeby tying a plank across the cab. There were even nomes on this. Theywatched her expectantly.
At least driving the Cat should be easier. The leaders of the teams onthe controls could see her, so she wouldn't have to mess around withsemaphore and pieces of thread as they'd done when they left the Store.
And a lot of the nomes had done this before too ...
She heard Dorcas shout, "Try it this time!"
There was a click. There was a whirr. Then the Cat roared.
The sound bounced around the cave of the shed. It was so loud and so deepit wasn't really sound at all, just something that turned the air hardand then hit you with it. Nomes flung themselves flat on the tremblingdeck of the cab.
Grimma, clutching at her ears, saw Dorcas running across the floor, waving his hands. The team on the accelerator pedal gave him a "Who, us?" look and stopped pushing.
The sound died down to a deep, rumbling purr, a mummummummum that stillhad a feel-it-in-the-bone quality. Dorcas hurried back and climbed, witha lot of stopping for breath, up to the plank.
When he got there he sat down and rubbed his brow.
"I'm getting too old for this sort of thing," he said. "When a nome getsto a certain age, it's time to stop stealing giant vehicles. Well-knownfact. Anyway. It's ticking over nicely. You might as well take us out."
"What, all by myself?" said Grimma.
"Yes. Why not?"
"It's just that, well, I thought Sacco or someone would be up here." Ithought a male nome would be driving, she thought.
"They'd like to," said Dorcas. "They'd love to. And we'd be zipping allover the place, I don't doubt it, with them crying 'yippee!' and whatnot.
No. I want a nice peaceful drive across the fields, thank you very much.
The gentle touch."
He leaned down.
"Everyone ready down there?" he yelled.
There was a chorus of nervous "yesses," and one or two cheerful ones. "I wonder if putting Sacco in charge of the go-faster pedal is really a good idea," mused Dorcas. He straightened up.
"Er. You're not worried, are you?" he said.
Grimma snorted. "What? Me? No. Of course not. It does not," she added, "present a problem."
"O-kay," he said. "Let's go."
There was silence, except for the deep thrumming of the engine.
Grimma paused.
If Masklin were here, she thought, he'd do this better than me. No one mentions him anymore. Or Angalo. Or Gurder. They don't like thinkingabout them. That must be something nomes learned hundreds of years ago, in this world full of foxes and rushing things and a hundred nasty waysto die. If someone is missing, you must stop thinking about them, youmust put them out of your mind. But I think about him all the time.
I just went on about the frogs in the flowers, and I never thought about his dreams.
Dorcas gently put his arm around her. She was shaking. Everyone was shaking to the deep chugging of the motor. But she was shaking worse. "We should have sent some people to the airport to see what happened to him," she muttered. "It would have showed that we cared, and-"
"We didn't have the time, and we didn't have the people," said Dorcas softly. "When he comes back we can explain about that. He's bound to understand." "Yes," she whispered.
"And now," said Dorcas, standing back, "let's go!"
Grimma took a deep breath.
"First gear," she bellowed, "and go forward verrrry slowly."
The teams pushed and pulled their way over the deck. There was a slight shudder and the engine noise dropped. The Cat lurched forward and jolted to a stop. The motor coughed and died.
Dorcas looked thoughtfully at his fingernails. "Hand brake, hand brake, hand brake," he hummed softly.
Grimma glared at him, and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Take the hand brake off!" she shouted. "Right! Now, get into first gear and go forward very slowly!" There was a click, and silence.
"Startthemotor, startthemotor, startthemotor," murmured Dorcas, rocking back and forth on his heels.
Grimma sagged. "Put everything back where it was and start the motor," she screamed.
Nooty, in charge of the hand brake team, called up, "Do you want the handbrake on or off, miss?"
"What?"
"You haven't told us what to do with the hand brake, miss," said Sacco.
The nomes with him started to grin.
Grimma shook a finger at him. "Listen, mister," she snapped, "if I haveto come down there and tell you what to do with the hand brake, you'llall be extremely sorry, all right? Now stop giggling like that and getthis thing moving! Quickly!"