'While we're waiting, I'm going to take a look outside,' he said.

'What on earth for?' said Grimma.

'Just to, you know, look around,' said Masklin awkwardly. He nudged Gurder. 'Want to come?' he said.

'What? Outside? Me?' The Stationeri looked ter­rified, 'You'll have to sooner or later. Why not now?' Gurder hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged.

Will we be able to see the Store,' he licked his dry lips, 'from the outside?' he said.

'Probably. We haven't really gone very far,' said Masklin, as diplomatically as he could.

A team of nomes helped them over the end of the lorry and they swung down on to what Gurder would almost certainly have called the floor. It was damp, and a fine spray hung in the air. Masklin breathed deeply. This was outside, all right. Real air, with a slight chill to it. It smelled fresh, not as though it had been breathed by thousands of nomes before him.

'The sprinklers have come on,' said Gurder.

'The what?' 'The sprinklers,' said Gurder. 'They're in the ceiling, you know, in case of f...' He stopped, and looked up. 'Oh, my,' he said.

'I think you mean the rain,' said Masklin.

'Oh, my.' 'It's just water coming out of the sky,' said Masklin. He felt something more was expected of him. 'It's wet,' he added, 'and you can drink it. Rain. You don't have to have pointy heads. It just rolls off anyway.' 'Oh, my.' 'Are you all right?' Gurder was trembling. 'There's no roof!' he moaned. 'And it's so big!' Masklin patted him on the shoulder.

'Of course, all this is new to you,' he said. 'You mustn't worry if you don't understand everything.' 'You're secretly laughing at me, aren't you!' said Gurder.

'Not really. I know what it's like to feel fright­ened.' Gurder pulled himself together. 'Frightened? Me? Don't be foolish. I'm quite all right,' he said. 'Just a little, er, surprised. I, er, wasn't expecting it to be quite so, quite so, quite so outside. Now I've had time to come to terms with it, I feel much better. Well, well. So this is what it's like,' he turned the word around his tongue, like a new sweet, 'outside. So, er, big. Is this all of it, or is there any more?' 'Lots,' said Masklin. 'Where we lived, there was nothing but outside from one edge of the world to the other.' 'Oh,' said Gurder weakly. 'Well, I think this will be enough outside to be going on with. Very good.' Masklin turned and looked up at the lorry. It was almost wedged in an alleyway littered with rubbish. There was a large dent in the end of it.

The opening at the far end of the alley was bright with street lights in the drizzle. As he watched, a vehicle swished by with a blue light flashing. It was singing. He couldn't think of any other word to describe it.

'How odd,' said Gurder.

'It used to happen sometimes at home,' said Masklin. It was secretly rather pleasing, after all this time, to be the one who knew things~ 'You'd hear ones go along the motorway like that. Dee-dah dee-dah DEE-DAH DEE-DAH dee-dah. I think it's just to get people to get out of the way.' They crept along the gutter and craned to look over the pavement at the corner, just as another bawling car hurtled past. 'Oh, Bargains Galore!' said Gurder, and put his hands over his mouth.

The Store was on fire.

Flames fluttered at some of the upper windows like curtains in a breeze. A pall of smoke rose gently from the roof and made a darker column against the rainy sky. The Store was having its last sale. It was hold­ing a Grand Final Clearance of specially selected sparks, and flames to suit every pocket.

Humans bustled around in the street below it. There were a couple of lorries with ladders on them. It looked as though they were spraying water into the building.

Masklin looked sidelong at Gurder, wondering what the nome was going to do. In fact he took it a lot better than Masklin would have believed, but when he spoke it was in a wound-up way, as if he was trying to keep his voice level.

'It's... it's not how I imagined it,' he croaked.

'No,' said Masklin.

'We... we got out just in time.' 'Yes.' Gurder coughed. It was as if he'd just had a long debate with himself and had reached a deci­sion. 'Thanks to Arnold Bros (est. 1905),' he said firmly.

Pardon?' Gurder stared at Masklin's face. 'If he hadn't called you to the Store, we'd all still be in there,' he said, sounding more confident with every word. 'But-' Masklin paused. That didn't make any sense. If they hadn't left, there wouldn't have been a fire. Would there? Hard to be sure. Maybe some fire had got out of a fire bucket. Best not to argue. There were some things people weren't happy to argue about, he thought. It was all very puzzling.

'Funny he's letting the Store burn,' he said.

'He needn't,' said Gurder. 'There's the sprink­lers, and there's these special things, to make the fire go out. Fire Exits, they're called. But he let the Store burn because we don't need it any more.' There was a crash as the entire top floor fell in on itself.

'There goes Consumer Accounts,' said Masklin. 'I hope all the humans got out.' 'Who?' 'You know. We saw their names on the doors. Salaries. Accounts. Personnel. General Man­ager,' said Masklin.

'I'm sure Arnold Bros (est. 1905) made arrange­ments,' said Gurder.

Masklin shrugged. And then he saw, outlined against the firelight, the figure of Prices Slashed. There was no mistaking that hat. He was even holding his torch, and he was deep in conversa­tion with some other humans. When he half turned, Masklin saw his face. He looked very angry.

He also looked very human. Without the terrible light, without the shadows of the Store at night, Prices Slashed was just another human.

On the other hand...

No, it was too complicated. And there were more important things to do.

'Come on,' he said. 'Let's get back. I think we should get as far away as possible as quickly as we can.' 'I shall ask Arnold Bros (est. 1905) to guide us and lead us,' said Gurder firmly.

'Yes, good,' said Masklin. 'Good idea. And why not? But now we really must-' 'Has his Sign not said If You Do Not See What You Require, Please Ask?' said Gurder.

Masklin took him firmly by the arm. Everyone needs something, he thought. And you never know.

'I pull this string,' said Angalo, indicating the thread over his shoulder and the way it disap­peared down into the depths of the cab, 'and the leader of the steering wheel left-puffing team will know I want to turn left. Because it's tied to his arm. And this other one goes to the right-pulling team. So we won't need so many signals and Dorcas can concentrate on the gears and things. And the brakes~ After all,' he added, 'we can't always rely on a wall to run into when we want to stop.' 'What about lights?' said Masklin. Angalo beamed. 'Signal for the lights,' he said, to the nome with flags. 'What we did was, we tied threads to switches-' There was a click. A big metal arm moved across the windscreen, clearing away the rain­drops. They watched it for a while.

'Doesn't really illuminate much, does it?' said Grimma.

Wrong switch,' muttered Angalo. 'Signal to leave the wipers on but put on the lights.' There was some muffled argument below them, and then another click. Instantly the cab was filled with the dull throbbing sound of a human voice.

'It's all right,' said Angalo. 'It's only the radio. But it's not the lights, tell Dorcas~' 'I know what a radio is,' said Gurder. 'You don't have to tell me what a radio is.' 'What is it, then?' said Masklin, who didn't know.

'Twenty-Nine Ninety-Five, Batteries Extra,' said Gurder. 'With AM, FM, and Auto-Reverse Cassette. Bargain Offer, Not to Be Repeat­ed.' 'Am and Fum?' said Masklin.

'Yes.' The radio voice droned on.

'-ggest fire in the town's history, with fire­men coming in from as far afield as Newtown. Meanwhile, police are searching for one of the store's lorries, last seen leaving the building just before-' 'The lights. The lights. Third switch along,' said Angalo. There was a few seconds pause, and then the alley in front of the lorry was bathed in white light.