Gurder looked up in terror at the brilliant globe that had appeared above them.

'Sorry, I think that was me,' said Masklin's voice from the shadows. 'I found this sort of lever thing and when I pushed it, it went click. Sorry.' 'Ahaha,' said Gurder, mirthlessly. 'An electric light. Of course. Ahaha. Gave me quite a start for a moment.' Masklin appeared in the circle of brightness, and looked at the paper.

'I heard you reading,' he said. 'Anything inter­esting?' Gurder pored over the print again. "Notice to all Staff,"' he read, '"I am sure we are all aware of the increasingly poor. finan­cial performance of the store in recent years. This rambling old building, while quite suitable for the leisured shopper of 1905, is not appropriate in the exciting world of the Nineties, and as we all know, there have unfortunately been marked stock losses and a general loss of custom following the opening of newer major outlets in the town. I am sure our sorrow at the closure of Arnold Bros, which as you know was the foundation of the Arnco fortunes, will be lessened by the news of plans by the Group to replace it with an Arnco Super Saverstore in the Neil Armstrong Shopping Mall. To this end, the store will close at the end of the month, and will shortly be demolished to make way for an exciting new Arnco Leisure Complex...".' Gurder fell silent, and put his head in his hands.

'There's those words again,' said Masklin slow­ly. 'Closure. Demolished.' 'What's leisure?' said Grimma. The Stationeri ignored her.

Masklin took her gently by the arm.

'I think he wants to be alone for a while,' he said. He pulled the tip of his spear across the broad sheet of paper, creasing it, and folded it up until it was small enough to carry.

'I expect the Abbot will want to see it,' he said. 'He'll never believe us if we-' He stopped. Grimma was staring over his shoul­der. He turned, and looked out through the glass part of the great door into the corridor beyond. There was a shadow out there. Human-shaped. And growing bigger.

What is it?' she said.

Masklin gripped the spear. 'I think,' he said, 'it may be Prices Slashed.' They turned and hurried over to Gurder.

'There's someone coming,' Masklin whispered. 'Get down to the floor, quickly!' 'Demolished!' moaned Gurder, hugging himself and rocking from side to side. 'Everything Must Go! Final Reductions! We're all doomed!' 'Yes, but do you think you could go and be doomed on the floor?' said Masklin.

'He's not himself; you can see that,' said Grimma. 'Come on,' she added, in a horribly cheerful voice. 'Upsydaisy.' She lifted him up bodily and helped him towards the rope of clips. Masklin followed them, walking backwards with his eye on the door.

He thought: he has seen the light. It should be dark in here now, and he has seen the light. But I'll never get it off in time and anyway, it won't make any difference. I don't believe in any demon called Prices Slashed and now, here he comes. What a strange world.

He sidled into the shade of a pile of paper, and waited.

He could hear Gurder's feeble protests, down around floor level, suddenly stop. Perhaps Grimma had hit him with something. She had a way of taking obvious action in a crisis.

The door drifted open, very slowly. There was a figure there. It looked like a human in a blue suit. Masklin wasn't much of a judge of human expressions, but the man didn't look very happy. In one hand he held a metal tube. Light shone out of one end. His terrible light, Masklin thought.

The figure came closer, in that slow-motion, sleep-walking way that humans had. Masklin peered around the paper, fascinated despite him­self. He looked up into a round, red face, felt the breath, saw the peaked hat.

He'd learned that humans in the Store had their names on little badges, because he'd been told -they were so stupid they wouldn't remember them otherwise. This man had his name on his hat. Masklin squinted and made out the shape of the letters: S... E .... ....... R...... T ..Y. He had a white moustache.

The man straightened up and started to walk around the room. They're not stupid, Masklin told himself. He's bright enough to know there shouldn't be a light on, and he wants to find out why. He's bound to see the others if he just looks in the right place. Even a human could see them.

He gripped his spear. The eyes, he thought, I'd have to go for the eyes...

Security drifted dreamily around the room, examining cupboards and looking in corners. Then he headed back towards the door.

Masklin dared to breathe and, at that moment, Gurder's hysterical voice came from somewhere below him.

'It is Prices Slashed! Oh, Bargains Galore, save us! We're all mmphmmphmmph-' Security stopped. He turned back, a look of puzzlement spreading across his face as slowly as treacle.

Masklin shrunk further back into the shadows. This is it, then, he thought. If I can get a good run at him.

Something outside the door started to roar. It was almost a lorry noise. It didn't seem to worry the man, who just pulled the door open and looked out.

There was a human woman in the passage. She looked quite elderly, as far as Masklin was any judge, with a pink apron with flowers on it and carpet slippers on her feet. She held a duster in one hand, and with the other she was...

Well, it looked as though she was holding back a sort of roaring thing, like a bag on wheels. It kept rushing forward across the carpet, but she kept one hand on its stick and kept pulling it back.

While Masklin watched she gave the thing a kick. The roaring died away as Security started to talk to her. To Masklin the conversation sounded like a couple of foghorns having a fight.

Masklin ran to the edge of the desk and half climbed, half fell down the chain of clips. The other two were waiting in the shadow of the desk. Gurder's eyes were rolling; Grimma had one hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

'Let's get out of here while he's not looking!' said Masklin.

'How?' said Grimma. 'There's only the doorway.' 'Mmphmmph.' Well, let's at least get somewhere better than this.' Masklin stared around across the rolling acres of dark carpet. 'There's a cupboard thing over there,' he said.

'Mmphmmph!' 'What are we going to do with him?' 'Look,' said Masklin to Gurder's frightened face. 'You're not going to go on about doom, doom again, are you? Otherwise we'll have to gag you. Sorry.' 'Mmph.' Promise?' 'Mmph.' 'Okay, you can take your hand away.' 'It was Bargains Galore!' hissed Gurder excit­edly.

Grimma looked up at Masklin. 'Shall I shut him up again?' she said.

'He can say what he likes as long as he keeps quiet,' said Masklin. 'It probably makes him feel better. He's had a bit of a shock.' 'Bargains Galore came to protect us! With her great roaring Soul-Sucker...' Gurder's brow wrinkled in puzzlement.

'It was a carpet-cleaner, wasn't it?' he said slowly. 'I always thought it was something magi­cal and it was just a carpet-cleaner. There's lot's of them in Household Appliances. With Extra Suction for Deep-Down Carpet Freshness.' 'Good. That's nice. Now, how do we get out of here?' Some searching behind the fifing cabinets found a crack in the floorboards just big enough to squeeze through with difficulty. Getting back took half a day, partly because Gurder would occasion­ally sit down and burst into tears, but mainly because they had to climb down inside the wall itself. It was hollow and had wires and odd bits of wood in it, tied into place by the Klothians, but it was still a tedious job. They came out under Kid­dies Klothes. Gurder had pulled himself together by then, and haughtily ordered food and an escort.

And so at last they came back to the Stationery Department.

Just in time.

Granny Monkie looked up as they were ushered into the Abbot's bedroom. She was sitting by the bed with her hands on her knees.