It bumped into his foot, beeped at him, and then bustled off in theopposite direction. Masklin followed it.
After a while he passed another one. It was moving along the ceiling witha faint clicking noise, cleaning it.
He turned the corner, and almost walked into Gurder.
"You're up!"
"Yes," said Masklin. "Er. We're on the Ship, right?
"It's amazing ... !" Gurder began. He looked wild-eyed, and his hairwas sticking up at all angles.
"I'm sure it is," said Masklin reassuringly.
"But there's all these ... and there's great big ... and there arethese huge ... and you'd never believe how wide ... and there's somuch ..." Gurder's voice trailed off. He looked like a nome who would have to learn new words before he could describe things.
"It's too big!" he blurted out. He grabbed Masklin's arm.
"Come on," he said, and half ran along the corridor.
"How did you get on?" said Masklin, trying to keep up.
"It was amazing! Angalo touched this panel thing and it just moved asideand then we were inside and there was an elevator thing and then we werein this great big room with a seat and Angalo sat down and all theselights came on and he started pressing buttons and moving things!"
"Didn't you try to stop him?"
Gurder rolled his eyes. "You know Angalo and machines," he said. "But theThing is trying to get him to be sensible. Otherwise we'd be crashinginto stars by now," he added gloomily.
He led the way through another arch into-well, it had to be a room. Itwas inside the Ship. It was just as well he knew that, Masklin thought, because otherwise he'd think it was Outside. It stretched away, as big asone of the departments in the Store.
Vast screens and complicated-looking panels covered the walls. Most ofthem were dark. Shadowy gloom stretched away in every direction, except for a little puddle of light in the very center of the room.
It illuminated Angalo in a big padded chair. He had the Thing in front ofhim, on a sloping metal board studded with switches. He had obviouslybeen arguing with it. When Masklin walked up, he glared at him and said,
"It won't do what I tell it!"
The Thing looked as small and black and square as it could.
"He wants to drive the Ship," it said.
"You're a machine! You have to do what you're told!" snapped Angalo.
"I'm an intelligent machine, and I don't want to end up very flat at thebottom of a deep hole," said the Thing. "You can't pilot the Ship yet."
"How do you know? You won't let me try! I drove the Truck, didn't I? Itwasn't my fault all those trees and streetlights and things got in theway," he added, after catching Masklin's eye.
"I expect the Ship is more difficult," said Masklin diplomatically.
"But I'm learning about it all the time," said Angalo. "It's easy. Allthe buttons have got little pictures on them. Look ..." He pressed abutton.
One of the big screens lit up, showing the crowds outside the Ship.
"They've been waiting there for ages," said Gurder.
"What do they want?" said Angalo. "Search me," said Gurder. "Who knowswhat humans want?"
Masklin stared at the throng below the ship. "They've been trying allsorts of stuff," said Angalo. "Flashing lights and music and stuff likethat. And radio, too, the Thing says."
"Haven't you tried talking back to them?" said Masklin.
"No. Haven't got anything to say." said Angalo. He rapped on the Thingwith his knuckles. "Right, Mr. Clever? If I'm not going to do thedriving, who is?"
"Me."
"How?"
"There is a slot by the seat."
"I see it. It's the same size as you."
"Put me in it."
Angalo shrugged, and picked up the Thing. It slid smoothly into the floor until only the top of it was showing.
"Look, er," said Angalo, "can't I do something? Operate the windshieldwipers or something? I'd feel like a twerp sitting here doing nothing."
The Thing didn't seem to hear him. Its light flickered on and off for amoment, as if it were making itself comfortable in a mechanical kind ofway. Then it said, in a much deeper voice than it had ever used before:
"RIGHT."
Lights came on all over the Ship. They spread out from the Thing like atide; panels lit up like little skies full of stars, big lights in theceiling flickered on, there was a distant banging and fizzing aselectricity was woken up, and the air began to smell of thunderstorms.
"It's like the Store at Christmas Fayre," said Gurder.
"Science!" breathed Angalo.
"ALL SYSTEMS IN WORKING ORDER," boomed the Thing. "NAME OUR DESTINATION."
"What?" said Masklin. "And don't shout."
"Where are we going?" said the Thing. "You have to name our destination."
"It's got a name already. It's called the quarry, isn't it?" said Masklin.
"Where is it?" said the Thing.
"It's ..." Masklin waved an arm vaguely. "Well, it's over that way somewhere."
"Which way?"
"How should I know? How many ways are there?"
"Thing, are you telling us you don't know the way back to the quarry?" said Gurder.
"That is correct."
"We're lost?"
'Wo. I know exactly what planet ise^re on," said the Thing.
"We can't be lost," said Gurder. "We're here. We know where we are. We just don't know where we aren't."
"Can't you find the quarry if you go up high enough?" said Angalo. "You ought to be able to see it, if you go up high enough."
"Very well."
"Can I do it?" said Angalo. "Please?"
"Press down with your left foot and pull back on the green lever, then," said the Thing.
There wasn't so much a noise as a change in the type of silence. Masklin thought he felt heavy for a moment, but then the sensation passed.
The picture in the screen got smaller.
"Now, this is what I call proper flying," said Angalo, happily. "With real Science. No noise and none of that stupid flapping."
"Yes, where's Pion?" said Masklin.
"He wandered off," said Gurder. "I think he was going to get something to eat."
"On a machine that no nome has been on for fifteen thousand years?" said Masklin.
Gurder shrugged. "Well, maybe there's something at the back of a cupboard somewhere," he said. "I want a word with you, Masklin."
"Yes?"
Gurder moved closely and glanced over his shoulder at Angalo, who was lying back in the control seat with a look of dreamy contentment on his face.
He lowered his voice.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he said. "I know it's a dreadful thing to say, after all we've been through. But this isn't just our Ship. It belongs to all nomes, everywhere."
He looked relieved when Masklin nodded.
"A year ago you didn't even believe there were any other nomes anywhere,"
Masklin said.
Gurder looked sheepish. "Yes. Well. That was then. This is now. I don't know what I believe in anymore, except that there must be thousands of nomes out there we don't know about. There might even be other nomes living in Stores! We're just the lucky ones who had the Thing. So if we take the Ship away, there won't be any hope for them."
"I know, I know," said Masklin wretchedly. "But what can we do? We need the Ship right now. Anyway, how could we find these other nomes?"
"We've got the Ship!" said Gurder.
Masklin waved a hand at the screen, where the landscape was spreading outand becoming misty.
"It'd take forever to find nomes down there. You couldn't do it even with the Ship. You'd have to be on the ground. Nomes keep hidden! You nomes inthe Store didn't know about my people, and we lived a few miles away.
We'd never have found Pion's people except by accident. Besides"-hecouldn't resist prodding Gurder gently-"there's a bigger problem too. Youknow what we nomes are like. Those other nomes probably wouldn't evenbelieve in the Ship."
He was immediately sorry he'd said that. Gurder looked more unhappy thanhe'd ever seen him.