"I don't know!"
"Who's driving it?"
"I don't-" Masklin stopped in horror. "No one! I mean, who could be driving it? There hasn't been anyone on it for thousands of years!"
"Who was going to bring it here, then?"
"I don't know! The Thing, maybe?"
"You mean it's on its way and no one's driving it?"
"Yes! No! I don't know!"
Angalo squinted up at the blue sky.
"Oh, wow," he said glumly.
"We need to find some electricity for the Thing," said Masklin. "Even if it's managed to summon the Ship, the Ship will still need to be toldwhere we are."
"If it summoned the Ship," said Gurder. "It might have run out of pow before it had time."
"We can't be sure," said Masklin. "Anyway, we must help the Thing. I hate to see it like that."
Pion, who had disappeared into the scrub, came back dragging a lizard.
"Ah," said Gurder, without any enthusiasm. "Here comes lunch."
"If the Thing were talking, we could tell Pion you can get awfully tired of lizard, in time," said Angalo.
"In about two seconds," said Gurder.
"Come on," said Masklin, wearily. "Let's go and find some shade and think up another plan."
"Oh, a plan," Gurder said, as if that was worse than lizard. "I like plans."
They ate-not very well-and lay back watching the sky. The brief sleep on the way hadn't been enough. It was easy to doze.
"I must say these Floridians have got it all worked out," said Gurder lazily. "It's cold back home and here they've got the heating turned up just right."
"I keep telling you, it's not the heating," said Angalo, straining his eyes for any sign of a descending Ship. "And the wind isn't the air conditioning, either. It's the sun that makes you warm."
"I thought that was just for lighting," said Gurder.
"And it's where all the heat comes from," said Angalo. "I read it in a book. It's a great ball of fire bigger than the world."
Gurder eyed the sun suspiciously.
"Oh, yes?" he said. "What keeps it up?"
"Nothing. It's just kind of there."
Gurder squinted at the sun again.
"Is this generally known?" he said.
"I suppose so. It was in the book."
"For anyone to read? I call that irresponsible. That's the sort of thing that can really upset people."
"There are thousands of suns up there, Masklin says."
Gurder sniffed. "Yes, he's told me. It's called the glaxie, or something.
Personally, I'm against it."
Angalo chuckled.
"I don't see what's so funny," said Gurder coldly.
"Tell him, Masklin," said Angalo.
"It's all very well for you," Gurder muttered. "You just want to drive things fast. I want to make sense of them. Maybe there are thousands of suns, but why?"
"Can't see that it matters," said Angalo lazily.
"It's the only thing that does matter. Tell him, Masklin."
They both looked at Masklin.
At least, where Masklin had been sitting.
He'd gone.
Beyond the top of the sky was the place the Thing had called the universe. It contained, according to the Thing, everything and nothing.
And there was very little everything and more nothing than anyone couldimagine.
For example, it was often said that the sky was full of stars. It wasuntrue. The sky was full of sky. There were unlimited amounts of sky and, really, by comparison, very few stars.
It was amazing, therefore, that they made such an impression.
Thousands of them looked down now as something round and shiny driftedaround the Earth.
It had Arnsat-1 painted on its side, which was a bit of a waste of paint since stars can't read.
It unfolded a silver dish.
It should then have turned to face the planet below it, ready to beam down old movies and new news.
It didn't. It had new orders.
Little puffs of gas jetted out as it turned around and searched the sky for a new target.
By the time it had found it, a lot of people in the old movies and new news business were shouting very angrily at one another on telephones, and some of them were feverishly trying to give it new instructions.
But that didn't matter, because it wasn't listening anymore.
Masklin galloped through the scrub.
They'd argue and bicker, he thought. I've got to do this quickly. I don't think we've got a lot of time.
It was the first time he'd been really alone since the days back when he'd lived in a hole and had to go out hunting by himself because therewas no one else.
Had it been better then? At least it had been simpler. You just had to try to eat without being eaten. Just getting through the day was a triumph. Everything had been bad, but at least it had been a kind of understandable, nome-sized badness.
In those days the world ended at the highway on one side and the woods beyond the field at the other side. Now it had no kind of boundaries at all, and more problems than he knew what to do with.
But at least he knew where to find electricity.
You found it near buildings with humans in them.
The scrub ahead of Masklin opened out onto a track.
He turned onto it, and ran faster. Go along any track, and you'd find humans on it somewhere.
There were footsteps behind him. He turned around, and saw Pion. The young Floridian gave him a worried smile.
"Go away!" Masklin said. "Go on! Go! Go back! Why are you following me?
Go away!"
Pion looked hurt. He pointed up the track and said something.
"I don't understand!" shouted Masklin.
Pion stuck a hand high above his head, palm downward.
"Humans?" Masklin guessed. "Yes. I know. I know what I'm doing. Go back!"
Pion said something else.
Masklin lifted up the Thing. "Talking box no go," he said helplessly.
"Good grief, why should I have to speak like this? You must be at least as intelligent as me. Go on, go away. Go back to the others."
He turned and ran. He looked back briefly, and saw Pion watching him.
How much time have I got? he wondered. Thing once told me the Ship flies very fast. Maybe it could be here any minute. Maybe it's not coming at all.
He saw figures looming over the scrub. Yes, follow any track, and sooner or later you find humans. They get everywhere.
Yes, maybe the Ship isn't coming at all.
If it isn't, he thought, then what I'm going to do now is probably the most stupid thing any nome has ever done anywhere in the total history of nomekind.
He stepped out into a circle of gravel. A small truck was parked in it, with the name of the Floridian god NASA painted on the side. Close by, a couple of humans were bent over a piece of machinery on a tripod.
They didn't notice Masklin. He walked closer, his heart thumping.
He put down the Thing.
We used to talk, he said. Well, maybe it's time to try again.
He cupped his hands around his mouth.
He tried to shout as clearly and as slowly as possible.
"Hey, there! You! Hu-mans!"
"He did what?" shouted Angalo. Pion ran through his pantomime of gesturesagain.
"Talked to bumansy' said Angalo. "Went in a thing with wheels'?"
"I thought I heard a truck engine," said Gurder. Angalo pounded a fistinto his palm.
"He was worried about the Thing," he said. "He wanted to find it someelectricity!"
"But we must be miles from any buildings!" said Gurder.
"Not the way Masklin's going!" Angalo snarled. "I knew it would come tothis!" Gurder moaned.
"Showing ourselves to humans! We never used to do that sort of thing inthe Store! What are we going to do? Masklin thought, Up to now, it's nottoo bad. The humans hadn't really known what to do about him. They'd evenbacked away! And then one of them had rushed to the truck and talked intoa machine on a string. Probably some sort of telephone, Masklin thoughtknowledgeably.