Diggers (3 page)

“I did, actually,” said Grimma, tossing her head.

“But, you see,” said Masklin patiently, “there aren't any more stones here, Grimma. That's why there's a hole.”

“Good point,” said Gurder sternly.

“Then he'll make the hole bigger!”
snapped Grimma. “Look at those cliffs up there”—they obediently looked—“they're made of stone! Look here”—every head swiveled down to where her foot was tapping impatiently at the paper—“it says it's for a highway extension! That's a road! He's going to make the quarry bigger! Our quarry! That's what it says he's going to do!”

There was a long silence.

Then Dorcas said: “Who is?”

“Order! He's put his name on it,” said Grimma.

“She's right, you know,” said Masklin. “Look. It says: ‘To be reopened, by Order.'”

The nomes shuffled their feet. Order. It didn't sound like a promising name. Anyone called Order would probably be capable of anything.

Gurder stood up and brushed the dust off his robe.

“It's only a piece of paper, when all's said and done,” he said sullenly.

“But the human came up here,” said Masklin. “They've never come up here before.”

“Dunno about that,” said Dorcas. “I mean, all the quarry buildings. The old workshops. The doorways and so on. I mean, they're for humans. Always worried me, that has. Where humans have been before, they tend to go again. They're rascals for that.”

There was another crowded silence, the kind that gets made by lots of people thinking unhappy thoughts.

“Do you mean,” said a nome slowly, “that we've come all this way, we've worked so hard to make a place to live in, and now it's going to be taken away?”

“I don't think we should get too disturbed right at this time—” Gurder began.

“We've got families here,” said another nome. Masklin realized that it was Angalo. He'd been married in the spring to a young lady from the del Icatessen family, and they'd already got a fine pair of youngsters, two months old and talking already.

“And we were going to have another go at planting seeds,” said another nome. “We've spent ages clearing that ground behind the big sheds. You
know
that.”

Gurder raised his hand imploringly.

“We don't know anything,” he said. “We mustn't start getting upset until we've found out what's going on.”

“And
then
can we get upset?” said another nome sourly. Masklin recognized Nisodemus, one of the Stationeri and Gurder's own assistant. He'd never liked the young nome, and the young nome had never liked anyone, as far as Masklin could see.

“I've never, um, been happy with the
feel
of this place, um, I
knew
there was going to be trouble—” Nisodemus complained.

“Now, now, Nisodemus,” said Gurder. “There's no cause to go talking like that. We'll have another meeting of the Council,” he added. “That's what we'll do.”

The crumpled newspaper lay beside the road. Occasionally a breeze would blow it randomly along the shoulder while, a few inches away, the traffic thundered past.

A stronger gust hit it at the same time as a particularly large truck roared by, dragging a tail of whirling air. The paper shot up over the road, spread out like a sail, and rose on the wind.

The Quarry Council was in session, in the space under the floor of the old quarry office.

Other nomes had crowded in, and the rest of the tribe milled around outside.

“Look,” said Angalo, “there's a big old barn up on the hill, the other side of the potato field. It wouldn't hurt to take some stores up there. Make it ready, you know. Just in case. Then if anything
does
happen, we've got somewhere to go.”

“The quarry buildings don't have spaces under the floors, except in the canteen and the office,” said Dorcas gloomily. “It's not like the Store. There aren't many places to hide. We need the sheds. If humans come here, we'll have to leave.”

“So the barn will be a good idea, won't it?” repeated Angalo.

“There's a man on a tractor who goes up there sometimes,” said Masklin.

“We could keep out of his way. Anyway,” said Angalo, looking around at the rows of faces, “maybe the humans will go away again. Perhaps they'll just take their stone and go. And we can come back. We could send someone to spy on them every day.”

“It seems to me you've been thinking about this barn for some time,” said Dorcas.

“Me and Masklin talked about it one day when we were hunting up there,” said Angalo. “Didn't we, Masklin?”

“Hmm?” said Masklin, who was staring into space.

“You remember, we went up there and I said that'd be a useful place if ever we needed it, and you said yes.”

“Hmm,” said Masklin.

“Yes, but there's this Winter thing coming,” said one of the nomes. “You know. Cold. Glitter on everythin'.”

“Robins,” another nome put in.

“Yeah,” said the first nome uncertainly. “Them, too. Not a good time to go movin' around, with robins zoomin' about.”

“Nothing wrong with robins,” said Granny Morkie, who had nodded off for a moment. “My dad used to say there's good eatin' on a robin, if you catched one.” She beamed at them proudly.

This comment had the same effect on everyone's train of thought as a brick wall built across the line. Eventually Gurder said: “I still say we shouldn't get too excited right at this moment. We should wait and trust in Arnold Bros (est. 1905)'s guidance.”

There was more silence. Then Angalo said, very quietly: “Fat lot of good that'll do us.”

There was silence again. But this time it was a thick, heavy silence, and it got thicker and heavier and more menacing, like a storm cloud building up over a mountain, until the first flash of lightning would come as a relief.

It came.

“What did you say?” said Gurder, slowly.

“Only what everyone's been thinking,” said Angalo. Many of the nomes started to stare at their feet.

“And what do you mean by that?” said Gurder.

“Where
is
Arnold Bros (est. 1905), then?” said Angalo. “
How
did he help us get out of the Store? Exactly, I mean? He didn't, did he?” Angalo's voice shook a bit, as if even he was terrified to hear himself talking like this. “
We
did it. By learning things. We did it all ourselves. We learned to read books,
your
books, and we found things out and we did things for ourselves. . . .”

Gurder jumped to his feet, white with fury. Beside him Nisodemus put his hand over his mouth and looked too shocked to speak.

“Arnold Bros (est. 1905) goes wherever nomes go!” Gurder shouted.

Angalo swayed backward, but his father had been one of the toughest nomes in the Store, and he didn't give in easily.

“You just made that up!” he snorted. “I'm not saying that there wasn't, well,
something
in the Store, but that was the Store and this is here, and all we've got is
us
! The trouble is, you Stationeri were so powerful in the Store, you just can't bear to give it up!”

Now Masklin stood up.

“Just a moment, you two—” he began.

“So that's all it is, is it?” growled Gurder, ignoring him. “That's the Haberdasheri for you! You always were too proud! Too arrogant by half! Drive a truck a little way and we think we know it all, do we? Perhaps we're getting what we deserve, eh?”

“—this isn't the time or place for this sort of thing—” Masklin went on.

“That's just a silly threat! Why can't you accept it, you old fool. Arnold Bros doesn't exist! Use the brains Arnold Bros gave you, why don't you?”

“If you don't both shut up I'll bang your heads together!”

That seemed to work.

“Right,” said Masklin, in a more normal voice. “Now, I think it would be a very good idea if everyone went and got on with—with whatever it was they were getting on with. Because this is no way to make complicated decisions. We all need to think for a bit.”

The nomes filed out, relieved that it was over. Masklin could hear Gurder and Angalo still arguing.

“Not you two,” he warned.

“Now
look
—” said Gurder.

“No, you look, the pair of you!” said Masklin. “Here we are, maybe a big problem looming up, and you start arguing! You both ought to know better! Can't you see you're upsetting people?”

“Well, it's important,” muttered Angalo.

“What we should do now,”
said Masklin sharply, “is have another look at this barn. Can't say I'm happy with the idea, but it might be useful to have a bolt-hole. Anyway, it'll keep people occupied, and that'll stop them worrying. How about it?”

“I suppose so,” said Gurder, with bad grace. “But—”

“No more buts,” said Masklin. “You're acting like idiots. People look up to the pair of you, so you'll set an example, do you hear?”

They glowered at each other, but they both nodded.

“Right, then,” said Masklin. “Now, we'll all go out, and people'll see you've made up, and that'll stop them fretting.
Then
we can start planning.”

“But Arnold Bros (est. 1905)
is
important,” said Gurder.

“I daresay,” said Masklin, as they came out into the daylight of the quarry. The wind was dropping again, leaving the sky a deep cold blue.

“There's no ‘daresay' about it,” said Gurder.

“Listen,” said Masklin, “I don't know whether Arnold Bros exists, or was in the Store, or just lives in our heads or whatever. What I
do
know is that he isn't just going to drop out of the sky.”

All three of them glanced up when he said this. The Store nomes shuddered just a bit. It still took a certain courage to look up at the endless sky when you'd been used to nice friendly floorboards, but it was traditional, when you referred to Arnold Bros, to look up. Up was where Management and Accounts had been, back in the Store.

“Funny you should say that. There's something up there,” said Angalo.

Something white and vaguely rectangular was drifting gently through the air, and growing bigger.

“It's just a bit of paper,” said Gurder. “Something the wind's blown off the dump.”

It was definitely a lot bigger now, and turned gently in the air as it tumbled into the quarry.

“I think,” said Masklin slowly, as its shadow raced toward him across the ground, “that we'd better stand back a bit—”

It dropped on him.

It was, of course, only paper. But nomes are small and it had fallen quite some way, so the force was enough to knock him over.

What was more surprising were the words he saw as he fell backward. They were: Arnold Bros.

I. And they Sought for a Better Sign from Arnold Bros (est. 1905), and there was a Sign;

II. And some spake up saying, Well, all right, but it is really nothing but a Co incidence;

III. But others said, Even a Co incidence can be a Sign.

From
The Book of Nome,
Signs Chap. 2, v. I–III

M
ASKLIN HAD ALWAYS
kept an open mind on the subject of Arnold Bros (est. 1905). When you thought about it, the Store had been pretty impressive, what with the moving staircases and so on, and if Arnold Bros (est. 1905) hadn't created it, who had? After all, that left only humans. Not that he considered humans to be as stupid as most nomes thought. They might be big and slow, but there was a sort of unstoppability about them. They could certainly be taught to do simple tasks.

On the other hand, the world was
miles
across and full of complicated things. It seemed to be asking a lot of Arnold Bros (est. 1905) to create the whole thing.