it wasn't like the Store in one important way, Masklin realised There weren't many places to hide. In the Store there was always something to get behind or under or wriggle through.
He could already hear distant sounds. In the end they found a gap behind a curtain, in a part of the aircraft where there were no seats. Masklin crawled inside, pushing the Thing in front of him.
They weren't distant sounds now. They were very close. He turned his head, and saw a human foot a few inches away.
At the back of the gap there was a hole in the metal wall where some thick wires passed through. It was just big enough for Angalo and Masklin, and big enough for a terrified Gurder with the two of them pulling on his arms. There wasn't too much room, but at least they couldn't be seen.
They couldn't see, either. They lay packed together in the gloom, trying to make themselves comfortable on the wires.
After a while Gurder said, "I feel a bit better now." Masklin nodded.
There were noises all around them. From somewhere far below came a series of metallic clanks. There was the mournful sound of human voices, and then a jolt.
"Thing?" he whispered.
"Yes?"
"What's happening?"
"The plane is getting ready to become airborne."
"Oh."
"Do you know what that means?"
"No. Not really."
"It is going to fly in the air. 'Borne' means to be carried, and 'air' means air. To be borne in the air. Airborne."
Masklin could hear Angalo's breathing.
He settled himself as best he could between the metal wall and a thick bundle of wires, and stared into the darkness.
The nomes didn't speak. After a while there was a faint jerk and a sensation of movement.
Nothing else happened. It went on not happening.
Eventually Gurder, his voice trembling with terror, said, "Is it too late to get off, if we - ?" A sudden distant thundering noise finished the sentence for him. A dull rumbling shook everything around them very gently but very firmly.
Then there was a heavy pause, like the moment a ball must feel between the time it's thrown up and the time it starts to come down, and something picked up all three of them and slid them into a struggling heap. The floor tried to become the wall.
The nomes hung on to one another, stared into one another's faces, and screamed.
After a while, they stopped. There didn't seem much point in continuing. Besides, they were out of breath.
The floor very gradually became a proper floor again, and didn't show any further ambitions to become a wall.
Masklin pushed Angalo's foot off his neck.
"I think we're flying," he said.
"Is that what it was?" said Angalo weakly. "It looks kind of more graceful when you see it from the ground."
"Is anyone hurt?"
Gurder pulled himself upright. "I'm all bruises," he said. He brushed himself down. And then, because there is no changing nomish nature, he added, "Is there any food around?" They hadn't thought about food.
Masklin stared behind him into the tunnel of wires.
"Maybe we won't need any," he said, uncertainly. "How long will it take to get to Florida, Thing?"
"The captain has just said it will be many hours," said the Thing. 3
[3] An hour lasts nearly as long as half a day, to a nome.
"We'll starve to death!" said Gurder.
"Maybe there's something to hunt?" said Angalo hopefully.
"I shouldn't think so," .Masklin said. "This doesn't look a mouse kind of place." "The humans'll have food," said Gurder. "Humans always have food."
"I knew you were going to say that," said Angalo.
"It's just common sense." "I wonder if we can see out a window?" said Angalo. "I'd like to see how fast we're going. All the trees and things whizzing past, and so on?"
"Look," said Masklin, before things got out of hand. "Let's just wait for a while, eh? Everyone calm down. Have a bit of a rest. Then maybe we can look for some food."
They settled down again. At least it was warm and dry. Back in the days when he'd lived in a hole in a bank Masklin had spent far too much time cold and wet to
He could already hear distant sounds. In the end they found a gap behind a curtain, in a part of the aircraft where there were no seats. Masklin crawled inside, pushing the Thing in front of him.
They weren't distant sounds now. They were very close. He turned his head, and saw a human foot a few inches away.
At the back of the gap there was a hole in the metal wall where some thick wires passed through. It was just big enough for Angalo and Masklin, and big enough for a terrified Gurder with the two of them pulling on his arms. There wasn't too much room, but at least they couldn't be seen.
They couldn't see, either. They lay packed together in the gloom, trying to make themselves comfortable on the wires.
After a while Gurder said, "I feel a bit better now." Masklin nodded.
There were noises all around them. From somewhere far below came a series of metallic clanks. There was the mournful sound of human voices, and then a jolt.
"Thing?" he whispered.
"Yes?"
"What's happening?"
"The plane is getting ready to become airborne."
"Oh."
"Do you know what that means?"
"No. Not really."
"It is going to fly in the air. 'Borne' means to be carried, and 'air' means air. To be borne in the air. Airborne."
Masklin could hear Angalo's breathing.
He settled himself as best he could between the metal wall and a thick bundle of wires, and stared into the darkness.
The nomes didn't speak. After a while there was a faint jerk and a sensation of movement.
Nothing else happened. It went on not happening.
Eventually Gurder, his voice trembling with terror, said, "Is it too late to get off, if we - ?" A sudden distant thundering noise finished the sentence for him. A dull rumbling shook everything around them very gently but very firmly.
Then there was a heavy pause, like the moment a ball must feel between the time it's thrown up and the time it starts to come down, and something picked up all three of them and slid them into a struggling heap. The floor tried to become the wall.
The nomes hung on to one another, stared into one another's faces, and screamed.
After a while, they stopped. There didn't seem much point in continuing. Besides, they were out of breath.
The floor very gradually became a proper floor again, and didn't show any further ambitions to become a wall.
Masklin pushed Angalo's foot off his neck.
"I think we're flying," he said.
"Is that what it was?" said Angalo weakly. "It looks kind of more graceful when you see it from the ground."
"Is anyone hurt?"
Gurder pulled himself upright. "I'm all bruises," he said. He brushed himself down. And then, because there is no changing nomish nature, he added, "Is there any food around?" They hadn't thought about food.
Masklin stared behind him into the tunnel of wires.
"Maybe we won't need any," he said, uncertainly. "How long will it take to get to Florida, Thing?"
"The captain has just said it will be many hours," said the Thing. 3
[3] An hour lasts nearly as long as half a day, to a nome.
"We'll starve to death!" said Gurder.
"Maybe there's something to hunt?" said Angalo hopefully.
"I shouldn't think so," .Masklin said. "This doesn't look a mouse kind of place." "The humans'll have food," said Gurder. "Humans always have food."
"I knew you were going to say that," said Angalo.
"It's just common sense." "I wonder if we can see out a window?" said Angalo. "I'd like to see how fast we're going. All the trees and things whizzing past, and so on?"
"Look," said Masklin, before things got out of hand. "Let's just wait for a while, eh? Everyone calm down. Have a bit of a rest. Then maybe we can look for some food."
They settled down again. At least it was warm and dry. Back in the days when he'd lived in a hole in a bank Masklin had spent far too much time cold and wet to
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