They never really thought nomes existed, he thought, but they wanted to believe that we did.

"Tell him," he said, "tell him I must get into the Ship."

Grandson Richard, 39, whispered. It was like listening to a gale.

"He says there are too many people."

"Why are all the humans around it?" said Masklin, bewildered. "Why aren't they frightened?"

Grandson Richard's reply was another gale.

"He says they think some creatures from another world will come out and talk to them."

"Why?"

"I don't know," said the Thing. "Perhaps they don Y want to be alone."

"But there's no one in it! It's our Ship-" Masklin began.

There was a wail. The crowd put their hands over their ears.

Lights appeared on the darkness of the Ship. They twinkled all over the hull in patterns that raced backward and forward and disappeared. There was another wail.

"There isn't anyone in it, is there?" said Masklin. "No nomes were left on it in hibernation or anything?"

High up on the Ship a square hole opened. There was a whiffling noise anda beam of red light shot out and set fire to a patch of scrub severalhundred yards away.

People started to run.

The Ship rose a few feet, wobbling alarmingly. It drifted sideways a little. Then it went straight up so fast that it was just a blur and jerked to a halt high over the crowd. And then it turned over. And then it went on its edge for a while.

It floated back down again and landed, more or less. That is, one side touched the ground and the other rested on the air, on nothing.

The Ship spoke, loudly.

To the humans it must have sounded like a high-pitched chattering.

What it actually said was: "Sorry! Sorry! Is this a microphone? Can't find the button that opens the door... . Let's try this one... ."

Another square hole opened. Brilliant blue light flooded out.

The voice boomed out across the country again.

"Got it!" There was the distorted thud-thud of someone not certain if their microphone was working, and tapping it experimentally. "Masklin, are you out there?"

"That's Angalo!" said Masklin. "No one else drives like that! Thing, tell Grandson Richard, 39, I must get on the Ship! Please!"

The human nodded.

Humans were milling around the base of the Ship. The doorway was too high up for them to reach.

With Masklin hanging on grimly, Grandson Richard, 39, pushed his waythrough the throng.

The ship wailed again.

"Er," came Angalo's hugely amplified voice, apparently talking tosomeone else, "I'm not sure about this switch, but maybe it's... .

Certainly I'm going to press it, why shouldn't I press it? It's next tothe door one, it must be safe. Look, shut up... ."

A silver ramp wound out of the doorway. It looked big enough for humans.

"See? See?" said Angalo's voice.

"Thing, can you speak to Angalo?" said Masklin. "Can you tell him I'mout here, trying to get to the Ship?"

'Wo. He appears to be randomly pressing buttons. It is to be hoped thathe does not press the wrong ones."

"I thought you could tell the Ship what to do!" said Masklin.

The Thing managed to sound shocked. "Not when a nome is in it," it said.

"I can't tell it not to do what a nome tells it to do. That's what beinga machine is all about."

Grandson Richard, 39, was shoving his way through the pushing, shoutingmass of humans, but it was hard going.

Masklin sighed.

"Ask Grandson Richard, 39, to put me down," he said. Then he added, "Andsay thank you. Say it ... it would have been nice to talk more."

The Thing did the translation.

Grandson Richard, 39, looked surprised. The Thing spoke again. Then hereached up a hand toward Masklin.

If he had to make a list of terrifying moments, Masklin would have putthis one at the top. He'd faced foxes, he'd helped to drive the Truck, he'd flown on a goose-but none of them were half so bad as letting ahuman being actually touch him. The huge whorled fingers uncurled andpassed on either side of his waist. He shut his eyes.

Angalo's booming voice said, "Masklin? Masklin? If anything bad'shappened to you, there's going to be trouble."

Grandson Richard's finger gripped Masklin lightly, as though the humanwas holding something very fragile. Masklin felt himself being slowlylowered toward the ground.

He opened his eyes. There was a forest of human legs around him.

He looked up into Grandson Richard's huge face, and trying to make hisvoice as deep and slow as possible, said the last word any nome said toany human:

"Good-bye."

Then he ran through the maze of feet.

Several humans with official-looking trousers and big boots were standing at the bottom of the ramp. Masklin scurried between them and ran on upward.

Ahead of him blue light shone out of the open hatchway. As he ran he saw two dots appear on the lip of the entrance.

The ramp was long. Masklin hadn't slept for hours. He wished he'd got some sleep on the bed when the humans were studying; it had looked quite comfortable.

Suddenly, all his legs wanted to do was go somewhere close and lie down.

He staggered to the top of the ramp and the dots became the heads of Gurder and Pion. They reached out and pulled him into the Ship.

He turned around and looked down into a sea of human faces, below him.

He'd never looked down on a human before.

They probably couldn't even see him. They're waiting for the little green men, he thought.

"Are you all right?" said Gurder urgently. "Did they do anything to you?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," murmured Masklin. "No one hurt me."

"You look dreadful."

"We should have talked to them, Gurder," said Masklin. "They need us."

"Are you sure you're all right?" said Gurder, peering anxiously at him.

Masklin's head felt full of cotton wool. "You know how you believed in Arnold Bros. (est. 1905)?" he managed to say.

"Yes," said Gurder.

Masklin gave him a mad, triumphant grin.

"Well, he believed in you too! How about that?

And Masklin folded up, very gently.

Chapter 11

The Ship: The machine used by nomes to leaveEarth. We don't yet know everything about it, butsince it was built by nomes using Science, wewill. - From A Scientific Encyclopedia for theEnquiring Young Nome by Angalo de Haberdasheri.

The ramp wound in. The doorway shut. The Ship rose in the air until itwas high above the buildings.

And it stayed there, while the sun set. The humans below tried shiningcolored lights at it, and playing tunes at it, and eventually just speaking to it in every language known to humans. It didn't seem totake any notice.

Masklin woke up.

He was on a very uncomfortable bed. It was all soft. He hated lying onanything softer than the ground. The Store nomes liked sleeping on fancybits of carpet, but Masklin's bed had been a bit of wood. He'd used apiece of rag for a cover and thought that was luxury.

He sat up and looked around the room. It was fairly empty. There was justthe bed, a table, and a chair.

A table and a chair.

In the Store, the nomes had made their furniture out of matchboxes andcotton reels; the nomes living Outside didn't even know what furniturewas.

This looked rather like human furniture, but it was nome-sized.

Masklin got up and padded across the metal floor to the door. Nome-sized, again. A doorway made by nomes for nomes to walk through.

It led into a corridor, lined with doors. There was an old feel about it.

It wasn't dirty or dusty. It just felt like somewhere that had beenabsolutely clean for a very, very long time.

Something purred toward him. It was a small black box, rather like theThing, mounted on little treads. A little revolving brush on the frontwas sweeping dust into a slot. At least, if there had been any dust itwould have been sweeping it. Masklin wondered how many times it hadindustriously cleaned this corridor, while it waited for nomes to comeback.