'Ah. Ropes again?' 'I thought so,' said Masklin earnestly. 'What do you think?' Dorcas sucked in his breath. 'We-ell,' he said. 'What with teams pulling the wheel, and teams shifting the Gear Lever, and people working the pedals with levers, and someone up there telling them all what to do, it's going to take a powerful lot of practising. Supposing I rig up all the tackle, all the ropes and such: how many nights will we have to practise? You know, get the hang of it?' 'Including the night we, er, leave?' 'Yes,' said Dorcas.

'One,' said Masklin.

Dorcas sniffed. He stared upwards for a while, bumming under his breath.

'It's impossible,' he said.

'We'll only have one chance, you see,' said Masklin 'If It's a problem with all the equipment-' 'Oh, no problem there,' said Dorcas. 'That's just bits of wood and string, I can have that ready by tomorrow I was thinking of the people, see You're going to need a powerful lot of nomes to do all this. And they're going to need training.' 'But, but all that they'd have to do is pull and push when they're told, won't they?' Dorcas hummed under his breath again. Mask­lin got the impression that he always did that if he was going to break some bad news.

'Well, laddie,' he said, 'I'm six, I've seen a lot of people, and I've got to tell you, if you lined up ten nomes and shouted "Pull!", four of them would push and two of them would say "Pardon?" That's how people are. It's just nomish nature.' He grinned at Masklin's crestfallen expression. 'What you ought to do,' he said, 'is find us a little lorry. To practise on.' Masklin nodded gloomily.

'And,' said Dorcas, 'have you thought again about how you're going to get everyone on? Two thousand nomes, mind. Plus all this stuff we're taking. You can't have old grannies and little babbies shinning up ropes or crawling through holes, can you?' Masklin shook his head. Dorcas was watching him with his normal mild grin.

This nome, Masklin thought, knows his stuff. But if I say to him leave it all to me, he'll leave it all to me, just to serve me right. Oh, critical path analysis! Why is it always people? 'Have you got any ideas?' he said. 'I really would appreciate your help.' Dorcas gave him a long thoughtful look, and then patted him on the shoulder.

'I've been looking around this place,' he Said.

'Maybe there's a way we can practise and solve the other problem. You come down here tomorrow night and we'll see, shall we?' Masklin nodded.

The trouble was, he thought as he walked back, that there weren't enough people. A lot of the Ironmongri were helping, and some of the other departments, and quite a few young nomes were sneaking off to help because it was all excit­ing and unusual. As far as the rest of them were concerned, though, life was going on as normal.

In fact the Store was, if anything, busier than usual Of all the family heads, only the Count seemed at all willing to take an interest, and Masklin suspected that even he didn't really think the Store was going to end. It just meant that the Ironmongri could learn to read and it annoyed the Haberdasheri, which amused the Count. Even Gurder didn't seem so sure as he had been.

Masklin went back to his box and slept, and woke up an hour later.

The terror had started.

Run to the Lifts Lifts, won't you carry me? Run to the Walls, Walls, won't you hide me? Run to the Lorry, Lorry, won't you take me? All on that Day.

From The Book of Nome, Exits Chap. 1, v.I It started with silence when there should have been noise. All the nomes were used to the dis­tant thumping and murmuring of the humans during the long daylight hours, so they didn't notice it. Now it was gone they could hear the strange, oppressive silence. There were days, of course, when humans didn't come into the Store for instance, Arnold Bros (est. 1905) sometimes allowed them almost a week off between the excitement of Christmas Fayre and the hurly­burly of Winter Sale Starts Today! But the nomes were used to this, it was part of the gentle rhythm of Store life. This wasn't the right day.

After several hours of silence they just stopped telling one another not to worry, it was probably just some special day or something, like that time when the Store had shut for a week for redec­oration, and one or two of the braver or more inquisitive ones risked a quick glance above floor level.

Emptiness stretched away between the familiar counters. And there didn't seem to be much stock around.

'It's always like this after a Sale,' they said. 'And then, before you know where you are, all the shelves are filled up again. Nothing to get upset about at all. It's all part of Arnold Bros (est. 1905)'s great plan.' And they sat in silence, or hummed a little tune, or found something to occupy their minds, to stop thinking unpleasant thoughts. It didn't work.

And then, when the humans came in and started taking the few things that were left off the shelves and counters, and piling them in great boxes and taking them down to the garage and loading them on to the lorries...

And started taking up the floorboards...

Masklin awoke. People were prodding him. Somewhere in the distance other people were shouting. It was somehow familiar.

'Get up, quickly!' said Gurder.

What's happening?' said Masklin, yawning.

'Humans are taking the Store to bits!' Masklin sat bolt upright.

'They can't be! It's not time!' he said.

'They're doing it just the same!' Masklin stood up, struggling into his clothes. He jigged sideways across the floor, one leg out of his trousers, and thumped the Thing.

'Hey!' he said 'You said the demolition wasn't for ages yet!' 'Fourteen days,' said the Thing 'It's starting now!' 'This is probably the removal of remaining stock to new premises, and preliminary works,' said the Thing.

'Oh, good. That should make everyone feel a lot better. Why didn't you tell us?' '1 was not aware you did not know.' 'Well, we didn't. So what do you suggest we. do now?' 'Leave as soon as possible.' Masklin snarled. He bad expected two more weeks to solve all the problems. They could have stockpiled stuff to take with them. They could: have made proper plans. Even two weeks was hardly long enough. Now even the thought of one week was a luxury.

He went out into the milling, disorganized crowd. Fortunately the boards hadn't been taken up in an inhabited area - some of the more sensible refugees said that only a few had been taken up in the far end of the Gardening Department, so the humans could get at the water pipes but nomes living nearby were taking no chances.

There was a thump overhead. A few minutes later a breathless nome arrived and reported that the carpets were being rolled up and taken away.

That caused a terrified silence. Masklin realized that they were all looking at him.

'Er,' he said.

Then he said, 'I think everyone ought to get as much food as they can carry and go down to the basement, near to the garage.' 'You mean you still think we should do it?' said Gurder.

We haven't much choice, have we?' 'But we were - you said we should take as much as we could from the Store, all the wire and tools and things. And books,' said Gurder.

We'll be lucky if we can just take ourselves. There's no time!' Another messenger came running up. It was one of Dorcas's group. He whispered something to Masklin, who gave a strange smile.

'Can it be that Arnold Bros (est. 1905) has abandoned us in our hour of need?' said Gurder.

'I don't think so. He may be helping us,' said Masklin. 'Because, well, you'll never guess where the humans are putting all this stuff...'