"I don't see what's so funny," said Gurder coldly.

"Tell him, Masklin," said Angalo.

"It's all very well for you," Gurder muttered. "You just want to drive things fast. I want to make sense of them. Maybe there are thousands of suns, but why?"

"Can't see that it matters," said Angalo lazily.

"It's the only thing that does matter. Tell him, Masklin."

They both looked at Masklin.

At least, where Masklin had been sitting.

He'd gone.

Beyond the top of the sky was the place the Thing had called the universe. It contained, according to the Thing, everything and nothing.

And there was very little everything and more nothing than anyone couldimagine.

For example, it was often said that the sky was full of stars. It wasuntrue. The sky was full of sky. There were unlimited amounts of sky and, really, by comparison, very few stars.

It was amazing, therefore, that they made such an impression.

Thousands of them looked down now as something round and shiny driftedaround the Earth.

It had Arnsat-1 painted on its side, which was a bit of a waste of paint since stars can't read.

It unfolded a silver dish.

It should then have turned to face the planet below it, ready to beam down old movies and new news.

It didn't. It had new orders.

Little puffs of gas jetted out as it turned around and searched the sky for a new target.

By the time it had found it, a lot of people in the old movies and new news business were shouting very angrily at one another on telephones, and some of them were feverishly trying to give it new instructions.

But that didn't matter, because it wasn't listening anymore.

Masklin galloped through the scrub.

They'd argue and bicker, he thought. I've got to do this quickly. I don't think we've got a lot of time.

It was the first time he'd been really alone since the days back when he'd lived in a hole and had to go out hunting by himself because therewas no one else.

Had it been better then? At least it had been simpler. You just had to try to eat without being eaten. Just getting through the day was a triumph. Everything had been bad, but at least it had been a kind of understandable, nome-sized badness.

In those days the world ended at the highway on one side and the woods beyond the field at the other side. Now it had no kind of boundaries at all, and more problems than he knew what to do with.

But at least he knew where to find electricity.

You found it near buildings with humans in them.

The scrub ahead of Masklin opened out onto a track.

He turned onto it, and ran faster. Go along any track, and you'd find humans on it somewhere.

There were footsteps behind him. He turned around, and saw Pion. The young Floridian gave him a worried smile.

"Go away!" Masklin said. "Go on! Go! Go back! Why are you following me?

Go away!"

Pion looked hurt. He pointed up the track and said something.

"I don't understand!" shouted Masklin.

Pion stuck a hand high above his head, palm downward.

"Humans?" Masklin guessed. "Yes. I know. I know what I'm doing. Go back!"

Pion said something else.

Masklin lifted up the Thing. "Talking box no go," he said helplessly.

"Good grief, why should I have to speak like this? You must be at least as intelligent as me. Go on, go away. Go back to the others."

He turned and ran. He looked back briefly, and saw Pion watching him.

How much time have I got? he wondered. Thing once told me the Ship flies very fast. Maybe it could be here any minute. Maybe it's not coming at all.

He saw figures looming over the scrub. Yes, follow any track, and sooner or later you find humans. They get everywhere.

Yes, maybe the Ship isn't coming at all.

If it isn't, he thought, then what I'm going to do now is probably the most stupid thing any nome has ever done anywhere in the total history of nomekind.

He stepped out into a circle of gravel. A small truck was parked in it, with the name of the Floridian god NASA painted on the side. Close by, a couple of humans were bent over a piece of machinery on a tripod.

They didn't notice Masklin. He walked closer, his heart thumping.

He put down the Thing.

We used to talk, he said. Well, maybe it's time to try again.

He cupped his hands around his mouth.

He tried to shout as clearly and as slowly as possible.

"Hey, there! You! Hu-mans!"

"He did what?" shouted Angalo. Pion ran through his pantomime of gesturesagain.

"Talked to bumansy' said Angalo. "Went in a thing with wheels'?"

"I thought I heard a truck engine," said Gurder. Angalo pounded a fistinto his palm.

"He was worried about the Thing," he said. "He wanted to find it someelectricity!"

"But we must be miles from any buildings!" said Gurder.

"Not the way Masklin's going!" Angalo snarled. "I knew it would come tothis!" Gurder moaned.

"Showing ourselves to humans! We never used to do that sort of thing inthe Store! What are we going to do? Masklin thought, Up to now, it's nottoo bad. The humans hadn't really known what to do about him. They'd evenbacked away! And then one of them had rushed to the truck and talked intoa machine on a string. Probably some sort of telephone, Masklin thoughtknowledgeably.

When he hadn't moved, one of the humans had fetched a box out of the backof the truck and crept toward him as if expecting Masklin to explode.

In fact, when he waved, the human jumped back clumsily.

The other human said something, and the box was cautiously put down onthe gravel a few feet from Masklin.

Then both humans watched him expectantly. He kept smiling, to put them attheir ease, and climbed into the box. Then he gave them another wave.

One of the humans reached down gingerly and picked up the box, lifting itup in the air as though Masklin was something very rare and delicate. Hewas carried to the truck. The human got in, and still holding the boxwith exaggerated care, placed it on its knees. A radio crackled with deephuman voices.

Well, no going back now. Knowing that, Masklin very nearly relaxed.

Perhaps it was best to look at it as just another step along life'ssidewalk.

They kept staring at him as if they didn't believe what they wereseeing.

The truck lurched off. After a while it turned onto a concrete road, where another truck was waiting. A human got out, spoke to the driver ofMasklin's truck, laughed in a slow human way, looked down at Masklin, andstopped laughing very suddenly.

It almost ran back to its own truck and started speaking into anothertelephone.

I knew this would happen, Masklin thought. They don't know what to dowith a real nome. Amazing.

But just so long as they take me somewhere where there's the right kindof electricity.

Dorcas, the engineer, had once tried to explain electricity to Masklin, but without much success because Dorcas wasn't too certain about it, either.

There seemed to be two kinds, straight and wiggly. The straight kindwas very boring and stayed in batteries. The wiggly kind was found inwires in the walls and things, and somehow the Thing could steal some ofit if it was close enough. Dorcas used to talk about wiggly electricityin the same tone of voice Gurder used for talking about Arnold Bros.

(est. 1905). He'd tried to study it back in the Store. If it was put intofreezers it made things cold, but if the same electricity went into anoven it made things hot, so how did it know'?

Dorcas used to talk, Masklin thought. I said "used to." I hope he stilldoes.

He felt light-headed and oddly optimistic. Part of him was saying: That'sbecause if you for one second think seriously about the position you'veput yourself in, you'll panic.

Keep smiling.

The truck purred along the road, with the other truck following it.