"I knew where I was, back in the Store," said Gurder, half to himself.
"And even in the quarry it wasn't too bad. I had a proper job. I wasimportant to people. How can I go back now, knowing that everything Ibelieved about the Store and Arnold Bros. (est. 1905) and GrandsonRichard, 39, is just ... is just an opinion."
"I cannot advise. I am sorry."
Masklin decided it was a diplomatic time to wake up. He made a gruntingnoise just to be sure that Gurder heard him.
The Abbot was very red in the face.
"I couldn't sleep," he said shortly.
Masklin stood up.
"How long, Thing?"
"Twenty-seven minutes."
"Why didn't you wake me up!"
"I wished you to be refreshed."
"But it's still a long way off. We'll never get you onto it in time. Wake up, you." Masklin prodded Angalo with his foot. "Come on, we'll have to run. Where's Pion? Oh, there you are. Come on, Gurder."
They jogged on through the scrub. In the distance, there was the low mournful howl of sirens.
"You're cutting it really fine, Masklin," said Angalo.
"Faster! Run faster!"
Now that they were closer, Masklin could see the shuttle. It was quite high up. There didn't seem to be anything useful at ground level.
"I hope you've got a good plan, Thing," he panted, as the four of them dodged between the bushes, "because I'll never be able to get you all the way up there."
"Do not worry. We are nearly close enough."
"What do you mean? It's still a long way off!"
"It is close enough for me to get on."
"What is it going to do? Take a flying leap?" said Angalo.
"Put me down."
Masklin obediently put the black box on the ground. It extended a few of its probes, which swung around slowly for a while and then pointed toward the going-up jet.
"What are you playing at?" said Masklin. "This is wasting time."
Gurder laughed, although not in a very happy way.
"I know what it's doing," he said. "It's sending itself onto the shuttle. Right, Thing?"
"I am transmitting an instruction subset to the computer on the communications satellite," said the Thing.
The nomes said nothing,
"Or to put it another way ... yes, I am turning the satellite computer into a part of me. Although not a very intelligent one."
"Can you really do that?" said Angalo.
"Certainly."
"Wow. And you won't miss the bit you're sending?"
"No. Because it will not leave me."
"You're sending it and keeping it at the same time?"
"Yes."
Angalo looked at Masklin.
"Did you understand any of that?" he demanded.
"I did," said Gurder. "The Thing's saying it's not just a machine, it's a sort of-a sort of collection of electric thoughts that lives in a machine. I think."
Lights flickered around on top of the Thing.
"Does it take a long time to do?" said Masklin.
"Yes. Please do not take up vital communication power at this point."
"I think he means he doesn't want us to talk to him," said Gurder. "He's concentrating."
"It," said Angalo. "It's an it. And it made us run all the way here just so we can hurry up and wait."
"It probably has to be close up to do ... whatever it is it's doing," said Masklin.
"How long's it going to take?" said Angalo. "It seems ages since it was twenty-seven minutes ago."
"Twenty-seven minutes at least," said Gurder.
"Yeah. Maybe more."
Pion pulled at Masklin's arm, pointed to the looming white shape with his other hand, and rattled off a long sentence in Floridian, or if the Thing was right, nearly original nomish.
"I can't understand you without the Thing," said Masklin. "Sorry."
"No speaka da goose-oh," said Angalo.
A look of panic spread across the boy's face. He shouted this time, and tugged harder.
"I think he doesn't want to be near the going-up jets when they start up," said Angalo. "He's probably afraid of the noise. Don't ... like
... the ... noise, right?" he said.
Pion nodded furiously.
"They didn't sound too bad at the airport," said Angalo. "More of a rumble. I expect they might frighten unsophisticated people."
"I don't think Shrub's people are particularly unsophisticated," said Masklin thoughtfully. He looked up at the white tower. It had seemed along way away, but in some ways it might be quite close.
Really very close.
"How safe do you think it is here?" he said. "When it goes up, I mean."
"Oh, come on," said Angalo. "The Thing wouldn't have let us come righthere if it wasn't safe for nomes."
"Sure, sure," said Masklin. "Right. You're right. Silly to dwell on it, really."
Pion turned and ran.
The other three looked back at the shuttle. Lights moved in complicatedpatterns on the top of the Thing.
Somewhere another siren sounded. There was a sensation of power, asthough the biggest spring in the world was being wound up.
When Masklin spoke, the other two seemed to hear him speak their ownthoughts.
"Exactly how good," he said, very slowly, "do you think the Thing is atjudging how close nomes can stand to a going-up jet when it goes up? Imean, how much experience has it got, do you think?"
They looked at one another.
"Maybe we should back off a little bit?" Gurder suggested.
They turned and walked away.
Then each one of them couldn't help noticing that the others seemed to bewalking faster and faster.
Faster and faster.
Then, as one nome, they gave up and ran for it, fighting their waythrough the scrub and grass, skidding on stones, elbows going up and downlike pistons. Gurder, who was normally out of breath at anything abovewalking pace, bounded along like a balloon.
"Have ... you ... any-any ... idea ... how-how ... close-"
Angalo panted.
The sound behind them started like a hiss, like the whole world taking adeep breath. Then it turned into ... not noise, but something more likean invisible hammer that smacked into both ears at once.
Chapter 8
Space: There are two types: a) something containing nothing and b)
nothing containing everything. It is what you have left when you haven'tgot anything else. There is no air or gravity, which is what holdspeople onto things. If there weren't space, everything would be in oneplace. It is designed to be a place for satellites, shuttles, planets, and the Ship.
-From A Scientific Encyclopedia for the Enquiring Young Nome by Angalo deHaberdasheri.
After some time, when the ground had stopped shaking, the nomes picked themselves up and stared blearily at one another.
!" said Gurder.
"What?" said Masklin. His own voice sounded a long way away, and muffled.
"?" said Gurder.
"?" said Angalo.
"What? I can't hear you! Can you hear me?"
Masklin saw Gurder's lips move. He pointed to his own ears and shook his head.
"We've gone deaf!"
"Deaf, I said." Masklin looked up.
Smoke billowed overhead and out of it, rising fast even to a nome's high-speed senses, was a long, growing cloud tipped with fire. The noisedropped to something merely very loud and then, very quickly, disappeared.
Masklin stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around.
The absence of sound was replaced by the terrible hiss of silence.
"Anyone listening?" he ventured. "Anyone hearing me?"
"That," said Angalo, his voice sounding blurred and unnaturally calm,
"was pretty loud. I don't reckon many things come much louder."
Masklin nodded. He felt as though he'd been pounded hard by something.
"You know about these things," he said weakly. "Humans ride on them, do they?"
"Oh, yes. Right at the top."
"No one makes them do it?"
"Er. I don't think so," said Angalo. "I think the book said a lot of them want to do it."
"They want to do it?"