Two days went past. The nomes kept watch from the girder over the garage. A small plastic tele­scope was rolled down from the Toy Department, and with its help the news came back that the big metal doors to the garage opened themselves when a human pressed a red button next to them. How could you press a button ten times higher than your head? It went down on Masklin's list of problems to solve.

Gurder found a map. It was in quite a small book.

'That was no trouble,' he said. 'We have dozens of these every year. It's called-' he read the gold lettering slowly '-Pocket Diary. And it has this map all at the back, look.' Masklin stared down at the small pages of blue and red blobs. Some of the blobs had names, like Africa and Asia.

'We-ell,' he said, and 'Ye-ss. I suppose so. Well done. Where are we, exactly?' 'In the middle,' said Gurder promptly. 'That's logical.' And then the lorry returned.

Angalo didn't.

Masklin ran along the girder without thinking of the drop on either side. The little knot of figures told him everything he didn't want to know. A young nome who had just been lowered over the edge was sitting down and getting his breath back.

'I tried all the windows,' he said. 'They're all shut. Couldn't see anyone in there. It's very dark.' 'Are you sure it's the right lorry?' said Masklin to the head watcher.

'They've all got numbers on the front of them,' he was told. 'I was particularly sure to remember the one he went out on, so when it comes back this afternoon I-' 'We've got to get inside to have a look,' said Masklin firmly. 'Someone go and get... no, it'll take too long. Lower me down.' 'What?' 'Lower me down,' Masklin repeated. 'All the way to the floor.' 'It's a long way down,' said one of them doubt­fully.

'I know! Far too long to go all the way around by the stairs.' Masklin handed the end of the thread to a couple of nomes. 'He could be in there hurt, or anything.' '"Tisn't our fault,' said a nome. 'There were humans all over the place when it came in. We had to wait.' 'It's no one's fault. Some of you, go around the long way and meet me down there. Don't look so upset, it's no one's fault.' Except perhaps mine, he thought, as he spun around in the darkness. He watched the huge shadowy bulk of the lorry slide past him. Some­how, they'd looked smaller outside.

The floor was greasy with all. He ran under the lorry into a world roofed with wires and pipes, far too high to reach, but he poked around near one of the benches and came back dragging a length of wire and, with great difficulty, bent it into a hook at one end.

A moment later he was crawling among the pipes. It wasn't hard. Most of the underneath of the lorry seemed to be pipes or wires, and after a minute or two he found a metal wall ahead of him, with holes in it to take even more bundles of wires. It was possible, with a certain amount of pain, to squeeze through. Inside- There was carpet. Odd thing to find in a lorry.

Here and there a sweet wrapper lay, large as a newspaper to a nome. Huge pedal-shaped things stuck out of greasy holes in the floor. In the distance was a seat, behind a huge wheel. Presum­ably it was something for the human in the lorry to hold on to, Masklin thought.

'Angalo?' he called out, softly.

There was no answer. He poked around aim­lessly for awhile, and had nearly given up when he spotted something in the drifts of fluff and paper under the seat. A human would have thought it was just another scrap of rubbish. Masklin recog­nized Angalo's coat.

He looked carefully at the rubbish. It was just possible to imagine someone had been lying there, watching. He rummaged among it and found a small sandwich wrapper.

He took the coat back out with him; there didn't seem to be much else to do.

A dozen nomes were waiting anxiously on the all-soaked floor under the engine. Masklin held out the coat, and shrugged.

'No sign,' he said. 'He's been there, but he's not there now.' 'What could have happened to him?' said one of the older nomes.

Someone behind him said darkly: 'Perhaps the Rain squashed him. Or he was blown away by the fierce Wind.' 'That's right,' said one of the others. 'There could be dreadful things, Outside.' 'No!' said Masklin. 'I mean, there are dreadful things-' 'Ah,' said the nomes, nodding.

'-but not like that! He should have been per­fectly all right if he stayed in the lorry! I.told him not to go exploring-' He was aware of a sudden silence. The nomes weren't looking at him but past him, at something behind him.

The Duke de Haberdasheri was standing there, with some of his soldiers. He stared woodenly at Masklin, and then held out his hands without saying a word.

Masklln gave him the coat. The Duke turned it over and over, staring at it. The silence stretched out thinner and thinner, until it almost hummed.

'I forbade him to go,' said the Duke softly. 'I told him it would be dangerous. You know, that was foolish of me. It just made him more determined.' He looked back up at Masklin.

Well?' he said.

'Er?' said Masklin.

'Is my son still alive?' 'Urn. He could be. There's no reason why not.' The Duke nodded, vaguely.

This is it, thought Masklin. It's all going to end here.

The Duke stared up at the lorry, and then looked around at his guards.

'And these things go Outside, do they?' he said.

'Oh, yes. All the time,' said Masklin.

The Duke made an odd noise in the back of his throat.

'There is nothing Outside,' he said. 'I know this. But my son knew differently. You think we should go Out. Will I see my son then?' Masklin looked into the old man's eyes. They were like two eggs that weren't quite cooked yet. And he thought about the size of everything out­side, and the size of a nome. And then he thought: a leader should know all about truth and hones­ ty, and when to see the difference. Honestly, the chance of finding Angalo out there is greater than the whole Store taking wings and flying, but the truth is that- 'It's possible,' he said, and felt terrible. But it was possible.

'Very well,' said the Duke, his expression unchanged. 'What do you need?' 'What?' said Masklin, his mouth dropping open. 'I said, what do you need? To make the lorry go Outside?' said the Duke.

Masklin floundered. 'Well, er, at the moment, I suppose, we need people-' 'How many?' snapped the Duke.

Masklin's mind raced.

'Fifty?' he ventured.

'You shall have them.' 'But-' Masklin began. The Duke's expression changed now. He no longer looked totally lost and alone. Now he looked his usual angry self.

'Succeed,' he hissed, and spun on his heel and stalked off.

That evening fifty Haberdasheri turned up, gawping at the garage and acting generally bewil­dered. Gurder protested, but Masklin put all those who looked even vaguely capable on to the reading scheme.

'There's too many!' said Gurder. 'And they're common soldiers, for Arnold Bros (est. 1905)'s sake!' 'I expected him to say fifty was too many and beat me down to twenty or so,' said Masklin. 'But I think we will need them all, soon.' The reading programme wasn't going the way he expected. There were useful things in books, it was true, but it was a hard job to find them among all the strange stuff.

Like the girl in the rabbit hole.

It was Vinto who came up with that one.

'...and she fell down this hole and there was a white rabbit with a watch, I know about rab­bits, and then she found this little bottle of stuff that made her BIG, I mean really huge, and then she found some more stuff which made her really small,' he'd said breathlessly, his face glowing with enthusiasm, 'so, all we need do is, we just find some more of the BIG stuff and then one of us can drive the lorry.' Masklin didn't dare ignore it. If just one nome could be made the size of a human, it would be easy. He'd told himself that dozens of times. It had to be worth an effort.