The Bromeliad 2 - Diggers

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The Bromeliad 2 - Diggers Page 5

by Terry Pratchett


  "Oh. Thank you very much."

  "It's not your fault. People like Masklin and Angalo and Gurder can make people listen to them, but you don't seem to keep their attention."

  "Oh."

  "But you can make nuts and bolts listen to you. Not everyone can do that." Dorcas thought about this. He would never have put it like that himself.

  Was it a compliment? He decided it probably was.

  "When people are faced with lots of troubles and they don't know what to do, there's always someone ready to say anything, just to get some power," said Grimma.

  "Never mind. When the others get back I'm sure they'll sort it all out," said Dorcas, more cheerfully than he felt. "Yes, they'll ..." Grimma began, and then stopped. After a while Dorcas realized that her shoulders were shaking. "Is there anything the matter?" he said.

  "It's been more than three whole days!" sobbed Grimma. "No one's ever been away that long before! Something must have happened to them!" 'Er," said Dorcas. "Well, they were going to look for Grandson Richard, 39, and we can't be sure that-"

  "And I was so nasty to him before he went! I told him about the frogs and all he could think of was socks!" Dorcas couldn't quite see how frogs had got involved. When he sat and talked to the Cat, frogs were never dragged into the conversation.

  "Er?" he said. Grimma, in between sobs, told him about the frogs.

  "And I'm sure he didn't even begin to understand what I meant," she mumbled. "And you won't either." "Oh, I don't know," said Dorcas. "You mean that the world was once so simple, and suddenly it's full of amazingly interesting things that you'll never ever get to the end of as long as you live. Like biology.

  Or climatology. I mean, before all you Outsiders came, I was just tinkering with things and I really didn't know anything about the world." He stared at his feet. "I'm still very ignorant," he said, "but at least I'm ignorant about really important things. Like what the sun is, andwhy it rains. That's what you're talking about."

  She sniffed, and smiled a bit, but not too much because if there is onething worse than someone who doesn't understand you it's someone who understands perfectly, before you've had a chance to have a good pout aboutnot being understood.

  "The thing is, " she said, "that he still thinks I'm the person he usedto know when we all lived in the old hole in the bank. You know, runningaround. Cooking things. Bandaging up people when they'd beenhur-hur-hur-"

  "Now then, now then," said Dorcas. He was always at a loss when peopleacted like this. When machines went funny you just oiled them or prodded them or, if nothing else worked, hit them with a hammer. Nomes didn'trespond well to this treatment.

  "Supposing he never comes back?" she said, dabbing at her eyes.

  "Of course he'll come back," said Dorcas reassuringly. "What could havehappened to him, after all?"

  "He could have been eaten or run over or trodden on or blown away orfallen down a hole or trapped," said Grimma.

  "Er, yes," said Dorcas. "Apart from that, I meant."

  "But I shall pull myself together," said Grimma, sticking out her chin.

  "When he does come back, he won't be able to say, 'Oh, I see everything'sgone to pieces while I've been away.' "

  "Jolly good," said Dorcas. "That's the spirit. Keep yourself occupied, that's what I always say. What's the book called?"

  "It's A Treasury of Proverbs and Quotations," said Grimma.

  "Oh. Anything useful in it?"

  "That," said Grimma distantly, "depends."

  "Oh. What's proverbs mean?"

  "Not sure. Some of them don't make much sense. Do you know, humans thinkthe world was made by a sort of big human?"

  "No! Are you sure?"

  "It took a week."

  "I expect it had some help, then," said Dorcas. "You know. With the heavystuff." Dorcas thought of the Cat. You could do a lot in a week, with theCat helping.

  "No. All by itself, apparently."

  "Hmm." Dorcas considered this. Certainly bits of the world were rough, and things like grass seemed simple enough. But from what he'd heard itall broke down every year and had to be started up again in the spring, and ... "I don't know," he said. "Only humans could believe somethinglike that. I think you'd need more than one week. There's a good few months work, if I'm any judge."

  Grimma turned the page. "Masklin used to believe-I mean, Masklinbelieves-that humans are much brighter than we think." She lookedthoughtful. "I really wish we could study them properly," she said.

  "I'm sure we could learn a-"

  For the second time, the alarm bell rang out across the quarry.

  This time, the hand on the switch belonged to Nisodemus.

  Chapter 7

  II. And Nisodemus said, You are betrayed, Peopleof the Store; III. Falsely you were led into This Outside ofRain and Cold and Humans and Order, and Yet itWill become Worse; IV. For there will be Sleet and Snow, and Hungerin the Land; V. And there will come Robins; VI. Urn.

  VII. Yet those that brought you here, where arethey Now?

  VIII. They said. We go to seek Grandson Richard,

  39, but tribulation abounds on every side and nohelp comes. You are betrayed into the hands ofWinter.

  IX. It is time to put aside things of the Outside.

  -From the Book of Nome, Complaints, v. II-IX

  "Yes. Well. That's hard to do, isn't it?" said a nome uneasily. "I mean, we are Outside." 'But I have a plan, " said Nisodemus.

  "Ah," said the nomes, in unison. Plans were the thing. Plans were whatwas needed. You knew where you were, with a plan.

  Grimma and Dorcas, almost the last to arrive, sidled their way into thecrowd. The old engineer was going to push his way to the front, butGrimma restrained him.

  "Look at the others up there," she whispered.

  There were quite a few nomes behind Nisodemus. Many of them Dorcasrecognized as Stationeri, but there were a few others from some of thegreat departmental families. They weren't looking at Nisodemus as hespoke, but at the crowd. Their eyes flickered back and forth, as thoughthey were searching for something.

  "I don't like the look of this," said Grimma quietly. "The big familiesnever used to get on too well with the Stationeri, so why are they up there now.'

  "Grubby pieces of work, some of them," said Dorcas.

  Some of the Stationeri had been particularly upset about common, everyday nomes learning to read. They said it gave people ideas, Dorcasgathered, which were not a good thing unless they were the right kindof ideas. And some of the great families hadn't been too happy aboutnomes being able to go where they pleased, without having to askpermission.

  They're all up there, he thought the nomes who haven't done so well sincethe Drive. They all lost a little power.

  Nisodemus was explaining his plan. As he listened, Dorcas's mouth slowlydropped open.

  It was magnificent in its way, that plan. It was like a machine whereevery single part was perfectly made, but had been put together by aone-handed nome in the dark. It was crammed full of good ideas which youcouldn't sensibly argue with, but they had been turned upside down. Thetrouble was, they were still ones you couldn't sensibly argue with, because the basically good idea was still in there somewhere.

  Nisodemus wanted to rebuild the Store.

  The nomes stood in horrified admiration as the Stationeri explained that, yes, Abbot Gurder bad been right, when they left the Store they had takenArnold Bros. (est. 1905) with them inside their heads. And, if they couldshow him that they really cared about the Store, he would come out againand put a stop to all these problems and reestablish the Store here, inthis green unpleasant land.

  That was how it all arrived in Dorcas's head, anyway. He'd long agodecided that if you spent all your time listening to what people actuallysaid you'd never have time to work out what they meant.

  But it wouldn't mean building the whole Store, said Nisodemus, his eyesshining like two bright black marbles. They could change the quarry inother ways. Go back to living in proper Departme
nts instead of any oldhow all over the place. Put up some signs. Get back to the Good Old Ways.

  Make Arnold Bros. (est. 1905) feel at home. Build the Store inside theirheads.

  Nomes didn't often go mad. Dorcas vaguely recalled an elderly nome whohad once decided that he was a teapot, but he'd changed his mind after afew days.

  Nisodemus, though, had definitely been getting too much fresh air.

  It was obvious that one or two other nomes thought so too.

  "I don't quite see," said one of them, "how Arnold Bros. (est. 1905) isgoing to stop these humans. No offense meant."

  "Did humans interfere with us when we were in the Store?" demanded Nisodemus.

  "Well, no, because-"

  "Then trust in Arnold Bros. (est. 1905)!"

  "But that didn't keep the Store from being demolished, did it?" said avoice. "When it came to it, you all trusted Masklin and Gurder and theTruck. And yourselves! Nisodemus is always telling you how clever youare. Try and be clever, then!"

  Dorcas realised it was Grimma. He'd never seen anyone so angry.

  She pushed her way through the apprehensive nomes until she was face toface or at least, since he was standing on something and she wasn't, faceto chest. Nisodemus was one of those people who liked standing on things.

  "What will actually happen, then?" she shouted. "When you've built theStore, what will happen? Humans came into the Store, you know!"

  Nisodemus's mouth opened and shut for a while. Then he said, "But theyobeyed the regulations! Yes! Um! That's what they did! And things werebetter then!"

  She glared at him.

  "You don't really think people are going to accept that, do you?" shesaid.

  There was silence.

  "You've got to admit," said an elderly nome, very slowly, "things werebetter then."

  The nomes shuffled their feet.

  That was all you could hear.

  Just people, shuffling their feet.

  "They just accepted it!" said Grimma, "Just like that! No one's botheredabout the council anymore! They just do what he tells them! Even GrannyMorkie's no help! She just sits around with all the old people, talking!

  I told her she should help me, and all she said was that she's too old toworry about young fools like Nisodemus! She says, in ten years' timewho'll care?"

  Now she was in Dorcas's workspace under a bench in the old quarry garage.

  My little sanctuary, he always called it. My little nook. Bits of wireand tin were scattered everywhere. The wall was covered with scrawls donewith a bit of pencil lead.

  Dorcas sat and twirled a bit of wire aimlessly.

  "You're being hard on people," he said quietly. "You shouldn't yell atthem like that. They've been through a lot. They get all confused if youshout at them. The council was all right for when times were good ..."

  He shrugged. "And without Masklin and Gurder and Angalo, well, ithardly seems worthwhile."

  "But after all that's happened!" She waved her arms. "To act so stupidly, just because he's offered them-"

  "A bit of comfort," said Dorcas. He shook his head. You couldn't explainthings like this to people like Grimma. Nice girl, bright head on her, but she kept thinking that everyone else was as passionate about things as she was. All people really wanted, Dorcas considered, was to be leftalone. The world was quite difficult enough as it was without peoplegoing around trying to make it better all the time.

  Masklin had understood that. He knew the way to make people do what youwanted was to make them think it was their idea. If there was one thingthat got right up a nome's nose, it was people saying to them, "Here isa really sensible idea-what are you, too stupid to understand?"

  It wasn't that people were stupid. It was just that people were people.

  "Come on," he said wearily. "Let's go and see how the signs are gettingon."

  The whole of the floor of one of the big sheds had been turned over tothe making of the signs. Or rather, the Signs. Another thing Nisodemuswas good at was giving words capital letters. You could hear him doingit.

  Dorcas had to admit that the Signs were a pretty good idea, though. Hefelt guilty about thinking this.

  He'd thought that when Nisodemus had summoned him and asked if therewas any paint in the quarry, only now the quarry was being called the NewStore.

  "Urn," Dorcas had said, "There are some old paint cans, white and red, mainly, under one of the benches. We might be able to lever the topsoff."

  "Then do it. It is very important. Um. We must make Signs," said theStationer!.

  "Signs. Right," said Dorcas. "Cheer the place up a bit, you mean?"

  "No!"

  "Sorry, sorry, I just thought-"

  "Signs for the gate!"

  Dorcas scratched his chin. "The gate?" he said.

  "Humans obey Signs," said Nisodemus, calming down. "We know that. Didthey not obey the Signs in the Store?"

  "Most of 'em," agreed Dorcas. "Dogs and Strollers Must Be Carried" hadalways puzzled him. Lots of humans didn't carry either.

  "Signs make humans do things," said Nisodemus, "Or stop doing things. Soget to work good Dorcas. Signs. Um. Signs that say 'No.' "

  Dorcas had given this a lot of thought as teams of nomes sweated to pryopen the lids of the paint-streaked cans. They still had the High WayCode from the Truck, and there were plenty of signs in there. And hecould remember some of the signs from the Store.

  Then there was a stroke of luck. Normally the nomes stayed at floorlevel, but Dorcas had taken to sending his young assistants onto the bigdesk in the quarry manager's office occasionally, where there were usefulscraps of paper. Now he needed to work out what the signs should say.

  Sacco and Nooty came back with the news. They'd found more signs. Oldones. A great big grubby notice pinned to the wall, covered with signs.

  "Masses of them," Sacco said, coming back out of breath. "And you knowwhat, sir? You know what? I read what it said on the notice and it said,

  'Health and Safety at Work,' it said, 'Obey These Signs,' it said, and itsaid, 'They Are There for Your Protection.' "

  "That's what it said?" said Dorcas.

  " 'For Your Protection,' " Sacco repeated.

  "Can you get it down?"

  "There's a coathook next to it," said Nooty enthusiastically. "I bet wecould sling a hook up and then pull it over toward the window, and then-'

  "Yes, yes, you're good at that sort of thing," said Dorcas. Nooty couldclimb like a squirrel. "I expect Nisodemus will be very pleased," headded.

  Nisodemus was, especially with the piece that said "For Your Protection."

  It showed, he said, that, urn, Arnold Bros. (est. 1905) was on theirside.

  Every bit of board and rusty sheet of metal had to be pressed intoservice. The nomes went at it cheerfully enough, though, happy to bedoing something. Next morning the sun rose to see a variety of Signshanging, not always squarely, on the battered quarry gate.

  They had been very thorough. The Signs said: NO ETNRY. EXIT THIS WAY. DAGNER--HARD HAT AREA. BLASTIGN IN PROGRES. ALL

  TRUCKS REPORT TO WIEGH-IN STATION. SLIPERY WHEN WET. THIS REGESTIR

  CLOSED. ELEVOTAR OUT FO ORDER. BEWARE OF FLALING ROCKS. ROAD FLOOODED.

  And one that Dorcas had found in a book and was rather proud of: UNEXPLODED BOM.

  Just to be on the safe side, though, and without telling Nisodemus, hefound some more chain and, in one of the greasy old toolboxes in theCat's shed, a padlock nearly as big as he was. It took four nomes tocarry it.

  The chain was massive. Some of the nomes found Dorcas painstakinglylevering it along across the quarry floor, one link at a time. He didn'tseem to want to tell them where he'd found it.

  The truck turned up around noon. The nomes waiting in the hedge by theside of the truck, saw the driver get out, look at the signs, and ...

  No, that wasn't right. Humans couldn't do that sort of thing. It couldn'tbe true. But twenty nomes, peering out from the undergrowth, saw ithappen.

  The hum
an disobeyed the signs.

  Not only that, it pulled some of them off the gate and threw them away.

  They watched in astonishment. Even UNEXPLODED BOM was whirled into thebushes, nearly knocking young Sacco from his perch.

  The new chain, though, caused the human a few problems. It rattled the chain once or twice, peered in through the wire mesh of the gate, stamped around for a bit, and then drove off. The nomes in the bushes cheered, but not too happily. If humans weren't going to do what was expected of them, nothing was right in the world.

  "I reckon that's it," said Dorcas when they got back. "I don't like the idea any more than anyone else, but we've got to move. I know humans.

  That chain won't stop them if they really want to get in." "I absolutely forbid anyone to leave!" said Nisodemus.

  "But you see, metal can be cut through-" Dorcas began in a reasonable tone of voice. "Silence!" shouted Nisodemus. "It's your fault, you old fool! Um! You put the chain on the gate!" "Well, you see, it was to stop the pardon?" said Dorcas.

  "If you hadn 't put the chain on the gate, the signs would have stopped the human," said Nisodemus. "But you can't expect Arnold Bros. (est.

  1905) to help us if we show we don't trust him!" "Um," said Dorcas. What he was thinking was: Mad. A mad nome. A dangerously mad nome. We're not talking about teapots here. He backed out of Nisodemus's presence and was glad to get out into the bitingly cold air.

  Everything's going wrong, he thought. I was left in charge, and now it's all going wrong, we haven't got any proper plans, Masklin hasn't come back, and it's all going wrong.

  If humans come into the quarry, they'll find us. Something cold landed on his head. He brushed at it irritably.

  I'll have a word with some of the younger nomes, he thought. Maybe going to the barn wasn't such a bad idea. We could keep our eyes shut on the way. Or something. Something else, cold and soft, settled on his neck.

  Oh, why are people so complicated?

  He looked up and realized that he couldn't see Ae other side of the quarry. The air was full of white specks, and more appeared as he watched.

  He watched it in horror.

  It was snowing.

 

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