'You'll laugh when I tell you this,' he said.

What was that?' said Grimma.

'He said we're going to laugh,' said. Angalo.

'Oh. Good.' 'Come on!' shouted Masklin. Dorcas's reply was lost in the din from the engine.

'What?' shouted Masklin.

'What?' 'What did you say?' 'I said, in all this rush I clean forgot about the door!' 'What'd he say?' said Gurder.

Masklin turned and looked at the door. Dorcas had been very proud of the way he'd stopped it opening. Now it had an extremely closed look If something with no face could look smug, the door had managed it.

He turned back in exasperation, and also in time to see the small door to the rest of the Store swing slowly open. There was a figure there, behind a little circle of sharp white light.

His terrible torch, Masklin thought again.

It was Prices Slashed.

Masklin felt his mind begin to think very clearly and slowly.

It's just a human, it said. It's nothing scary. Just a human, with its name on it in case it forgets who it is, like all those female humans in the Store with names like 'Tracy' and 'Sharon' and 'Mrs J. E. Williams, Supervisor'. This is just old 'Security' again. He lives down in the boiler-room and drinks tea. He's heard the noise.

He's come to find out what made it.

That is, us.

'Oh, no,' whispered Angalo, as the figure lurched across the floor. 'Do you see what it's got in its mouth?' 'It's a cigarette. I've seen humans with it before. What about it?' said Masklin.

'It's alight,' said Angalo. 'Do you think it can't even smell the dies-all?' 'What happens if it catches alight, then?' said Masklin, suspecting that he knew the answer.

'It goes whoomph,' said Angalo.

'Just whoomph?' 'Whoomph is enough.' The human came nearer. Masklin could see its eyes now. Humans weren't very good at seeing nomes even when they were standing still, but even a human would wonder why a lorry was driving itself around its garage in the middle of the night.

Security arrived at the cab and reached out slowly for the door-handle. His torch shone in through the side window, and at that moment Gurder reared up, trembling with rage.

'Begone, foul fiend!' he yelled,' illuminated as by a spotlight. 'Heed ye the Signs of Arnold Bros (est. 1905)! No Smoking! Exit This Way!' The human's face wrinkled in ponderous aston­ishment and then, as slowly as the drift of clouds, became an expression of panic. It let go of the door-handle, turned, and began to head for the little door at what, for a human, was high speed. As it did so the glowing cigarette fell from its mouth and, turning over and over, dropped slowly towards the floor.

Masklin and Angalo looked at each other, and then at the signaller.

'Go fast!' they shouted.

A moment later the entire lorry juddered as the teams tackled the complicated process of changing gear. Then it rolled forward.

'Fast! I said fast!' Masklin shouted.

'What's going on?' shouted Dorcas. 'What about the door?' 'We'll open the door! We'll open the door!' shouted Masklin.

'How?' 'Well, it didn't look very thick, did it?' The world of nomes is, to humans, a rapid world. They live so fast that the things that happen around them seem quite slow, so the lorry seemed to drift across the floor, up the ramp and hit the door in a leisurely way. There was a long-drawn-out boom and the noise of bits of metal being torn apart, a scraping noise across the roof of the cab, and then there was no door at all, only darkness studded with lights.

'Left! Go left!' Angalo screamed.

The lorry skidded around slowly, bounced lazily off a wall, and rolled a little way down the street.

'Keep going! Keep going! Now straighten up!' A bright light that shone briefly on the wall outside the cab.

And then, behind them, a sound like 'whoomph'.

i. Arnold Bros (est. 1905) said, A1t~ is now Fin­ished; ii. All Curtains, Carpeting, Bedding, Lingerie, Toys, Millinery, Haberdashery, Ironmongery, Elec­trical; iii. All walls, floors, ceilings, lifts, moving stairs; iv. Everything Must Go.

From The Book of Nome, Exits Chap. 3 v.I-IV Later on, when the next chapters of The Book of Nome came to be written, they said the end of the Store started with a bang. This wasn't true, but was put in because bang sounded more impressive. In fact, the ball of yellow and orange fire that rolled out of the garage, carrying the remains of the door with it, just made a noise like a giant dog gently clearing its throat.

Whoomph.

The nomes weren't in a position to take much notice of it at the time. They were more con­cerned with the noise made by other things nearly hitting them.

Masklin had been prepared for other vehicles on the road. The High Way Code had a lot to say about it. It was important not to drive into them. What was worrying him was the way they seemed determined to run into the lorry. They emitted long blaring noises, like sick cows.

'Left a bit!' Angalo shouted. 'Then right just a smidgen, then go straight!' 'Smidgen?' said the signaller, slowly. 'I don't think I know a code for smidgen. Could we-' 'Slow! Now left a bit! We've got to get on the right side of the road!' Grimma peered over the top of The High Way Code.

'We are on the right side,' she said.

'Yes, but the right side should be the left side!' Masklin jabbed at the page in front of them. 'It says here we've got to show cons consy-' 'Consideration,' murmured Grimma.

'-consideration for other road-users,' he said. A jolt threw him forward. 'What was that?' he said.

'Us going on to the pavement! Right! Right!' Masklin caught a brief glimpse of a brightly lit shop window before the lorry hit it sideways on and bounced back on to the road in a shower of glass.

'Now left, now left, now right, right! Straight! Left, I said left!' Angalo peered at the bewildering pattern of lights and shapes in front of them.

'There's another road here,' he said. 'Left! Give me left! Lots and lots of left! More left than that. ... !' 'There's a sign,' said Masklin, helpfully.

'Left!' shrieked Angalo. 'Now right. Right! Right!' 'You wanted left,' said the signaller accusingly.

'And now I want right! Lots of right! Duck!' 'We haven't got a signal for-' This time 'whoomph' wouldn't have done. It was definitely 'bang'. The lorry hit a wall, ground along it in a spray of sparks, rolled into a pile of dustbins and stopped.

There was silence, except for the hissing sounds and pink, pink noises from the engine.

Then Dorcas's voice came up from the dark­ness, slow and full of menace.

'Would you mind telling us down here,' it said, 'what you're doing up there?' 'We'll have to think of a better way of steering,' Angalo called down. 'And lights. There should be a switch somewhere for lights.' Masklin struggled to his feet. The lorry appeared to be stuck in a dark, narrow road. There were no lights anywhere.

He helped Gurder stand up, and brushed him down. The Stationeri looked bewildered.

We're there?' he said.

'Not quite,' said Masklin. We've stopped to, er, sort out a few things. While they're doing that I think we'd better go back and check that everyone's all right. They must be getting pretty worried. You come too, Grimma.' They climbed down and left Angalo and Dorcas deep in argument about steering, lights, clear instructions and the need for a proper supply of all three.

There was a gabble of voices in the back of the lorry, mixed with the crying of babies. Quite a few nomes had been bruised by the throwing about, and Granny Morkie was tying a splint to the broken leg of a nome who had been caught by a falling box when they hit the wall.

Wee bit rougher than the last time,' she com­mented drily, tying a knot in the bandage. 'Why've we stopped?' 'Just to sort out a few things,' said Masklin, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt. We'll be moving again soon. Now that everyone knows what to expect.' He gazed down at the dark shadowy length of the lorry, and inquisitiveness overcame him.