bones and hair, and that's true. And I might say, you're something inside your head that goes away when you die. That's true too. Ask the Thing."
Coloured lights flickered across the Thing's surface.
Masklin looked shocked.
"I've never asked it that sort of question," he said.
"Why not? It's the first question I'd ask."
"It'll probably say something like 'Does not compute' or 'Inoperative parameters.' That's what it says when it doesn't know and doesn't want to admit it. Thing?" The Thing didn't reply. Its lights changed their pattern.
"Thing?" Masklin repeated.
"I am monitoring communications."
"It often does that when it's feeling bored," said Masklin to Gurder. "It just sits there listening to invisible messages in the air. Pay attention, Thing. This is important. We want -" The lights moved. A lot of them went red.
"Thing! We -"
The Thing made the little clicking noise that was the equivalent of clearing its throat.
"A nome has been seen in the pilot's cabin."
"Listen, Thing, we - What?"
"I repeat: A nome has been seen in the pilots cabin." Masklin looked around wildly.
"Angalo?" "That is an extreme probability," said the Thing.
Chapter 3
TRAVELING HUMANS: Large, nomelike creatures. Many humans spend a lot of time travelling from place to place, which is odd because there are usually too many humans at the place they're going to anyway. Also see under Animals, Intelligence, Evolution, and Custard.
From A Scientific Encyclopaedia for the Enquiring Young Nome by Angalo de Haberdasheri.
The sound of Masklin's and Gurder's voices echoed up and down the pipe as they scrambled over the wires.
"I thought he was taking too long!"
"You shouldn't have let him go off by himself! You know what he's like about driving things!"
"I shouldn't have let him?" "He's just got no sense of - which way now? We're been searching for ages."
Angalo had said he thought the inside of a plane would be a mass of wires and pipes. He was nearly right. The nomes squeezed their way through a narrow, cable-hung world under the floor.
"I'm too old for this! There comes a time in a nome's life when he shouldn't crawl around the inside of terrible flying machines!"
"How many time have you done it?"
"Once too often!"
"We are getting closer," said the Thing.
"This is what comes of showing ourselves! It's a Judgement," declared Gurder.
"Whose?" said Masklin grimly, helping him up.
"What do you mean?'
"There has to be someone to make a judgement!"
"I meant just a judgement in general!"
Masklin stopped. "Where to now, Thing?"
"The message told the giving-out-food humans that a strange little creature was on the flight deck," said the Thing. "That is where we are. There are many computers here."
"They're talking to you, are they?"
"A little. They are like children. Mostly they listen," said the Thing smugly. "They are not very intelligent."
"What are we going to do?" said Gurder.
"We're going to-" Masklin hesitated. The word "rescue" was looking up somewhere in the sentence ahead.
It was a good, dramatic word.
He longed to say it. The trouble was that there was another, simpler, nastier word a little farther beyond.
It was "how"?
"I don't think they'd try to hurt him," he said, hoping it was true. "Maybe they'll put him somewhere. We ought to find somewhere where we can see what's happening." He looked helplessly at the wires and intricate bits of metal in front of them.
"You'd better let me lead, then," said Gurder, in a matter-of-fact voice.
"Why?"
"You might be very good at wide-open spaces," said the Abbot, pushing past him. "But in the Store we know all about getting around inside things." He rubbed his hands together.
"Right," he said, and then grabbed a cable and slid through a gap Masklin hadn't even noticed was there.
"Used to do this sort of thing when I was a boy," he said. "We used to get up to all sorts of tricks."
"Yes?" said Masklin.
"Down this way, I think. Mind the wires. Oh, yes. Up and down
Coloured lights flickered across the Thing's surface.
Masklin looked shocked.
"I've never asked it that sort of question," he said.
"Why not? It's the first question I'd ask."
"It'll probably say something like 'Does not compute' or 'Inoperative parameters.' That's what it says when it doesn't know and doesn't want to admit it. Thing?" The Thing didn't reply. Its lights changed their pattern.
"Thing?" Masklin repeated.
"I am monitoring communications."
"It often does that when it's feeling bored," said Masklin to Gurder. "It just sits there listening to invisible messages in the air. Pay attention, Thing. This is important. We want -" The lights moved. A lot of them went red.
"Thing! We -"
The Thing made the little clicking noise that was the equivalent of clearing its throat.
"A nome has been seen in the pilot's cabin."
"Listen, Thing, we - What?"
"I repeat: A nome has been seen in the pilots cabin." Masklin looked around wildly.
"Angalo?" "That is an extreme probability," said the Thing.
Chapter 3
TRAVELING HUMANS: Large, nomelike creatures. Many humans spend a lot of time travelling from place to place, which is odd because there are usually too many humans at the place they're going to anyway. Also see under Animals, Intelligence, Evolution, and Custard.
From A Scientific Encyclopaedia for the Enquiring Young Nome by Angalo de Haberdasheri.
The sound of Masklin's and Gurder's voices echoed up and down the pipe as they scrambled over the wires.
"I thought he was taking too long!"
"You shouldn't have let him go off by himself! You know what he's like about driving things!"
"I shouldn't have let him?" "He's just got no sense of - which way now? We're been searching for ages."
Angalo had said he thought the inside of a plane would be a mass of wires and pipes. He was nearly right. The nomes squeezed their way through a narrow, cable-hung world under the floor.
"I'm too old for this! There comes a time in a nome's life when he shouldn't crawl around the inside of terrible flying machines!"
"How many time have you done it?"
"Once too often!"
"We are getting closer," said the Thing.
"This is what comes of showing ourselves! It's a Judgement," declared Gurder.
"Whose?" said Masklin grimly, helping him up.
"What do you mean?'
"There has to be someone to make a judgement!"
"I meant just a judgement in general!"
Masklin stopped. "Where to now, Thing?"
"The message told the giving-out-food humans that a strange little creature was on the flight deck," said the Thing. "That is where we are. There are many computers here."
"They're talking to you, are they?"
"A little. They are like children. Mostly they listen," said the Thing smugly. "They are not very intelligent."
"What are we going to do?" said Gurder.
"We're going to-" Masklin hesitated. The word "rescue" was looking up somewhere in the sentence ahead.
It was a good, dramatic word.
He longed to say it. The trouble was that there was another, simpler, nastier word a little farther beyond.
It was "how"?
"I don't think they'd try to hurt him," he said, hoping it was true. "Maybe they'll put him somewhere. We ought to find somewhere where we can see what's happening." He looked helplessly at the wires and intricate bits of metal in front of them.
"You'd better let me lead, then," said Gurder, in a matter-of-fact voice.
"Why?"
"You might be very good at wide-open spaces," said the Abbot, pushing past him. "But in the Store we know all about getting around inside things." He rubbed his hands together.
"Right," he said, and then grabbed a cable and slid through a gap Masklin hadn't even noticed was there.
"Used to do this sort of thing when I was a boy," he said. "We used to get up to all sorts of tricks."
"Yes?" said Masklin.
"Down this way, I think. Mind the wires. Oh, yes. Up and down
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