Terry Pratchett - The Bromeliad 2 - Diggers

"I think the knobby wheels are just to make it grip the ground better," said Dorcas, his voice sounding a long way off. "Now, I've had a goodlook around it and, you know, there's nothing really wrong with it, it's just very old-"

Grimma's gaze travelled along the huge yellow neck.

Deedle-dah-deedle-dah-DUM

"Then I thought, I'm sure it could be started up. These diesel enginesare quite easy really, and of course there were pictures in one of thebooks, although I'm not sure about these pipes, hydraulics I think itscalled, but there was this book on one of the benches, Workshop Manual, and I've put grease on things and cleaned it up," Dorcas gabbled.

Dah-dah-dah-DUM

"I suppose the humans, or whatever, knew they would be coming back, andI've been up and looked at the controls and, you know, it's probablyeasier than the truck was, only of course there's these extra leversfor the hydraulics, but that shouldn't be a problem if there's enoughgas, which ..."

He stopped, aware of her silence.

"Is there something the matter?" he said.

"What is it?" said Grimma.

"I was just telling you," said Dorcas. "It's fascinating. You see, these pipes pump some sort of stuff which made those parts up there move, and those pistons are forced out, which makes the arm thing over there-"

"I didn't ask you what it does, I asked you what lt is," said Grimma, impatiently. "Because I know one thing. It's not a cat, Dorcas."

"You're wrong about that," said Dorcas. "See what's painted on it. Justup there, look."

She looked where he pointed. Grimma's brow wrinkled.

"C ... A ... T," she said. "Cat? But ... but ... Dorcas, that can't beright. Not really right. Look, a cat's got, well, whiskers. And hair. Andit's a whole lot smaller."

"Dunno," said Dorcas, and he shrugged. "It's written right there. I'm notabout to argue with things that are written right there. Maybe it's a bigcat. Maybe all the whiskers dropped out a long time ago. You know? Likesome old nomes lose their hair?"

"W-well," said Grimma, uncertainly. "But even the shape isn't right, and-"

"What do I know about this?" said Dorcas. "I'm not an expert in naturalhistory. Anyway, come over to this side."

She followed him dreamily, and, once more, stared into the darkness underthe tarp.

"There," he said. "There's no mistaking what they are, I hope."

"Oh, my," said Grimma, and raised her hand to her mouth.

"Yes," said Dorcas. "That's what I thought. When I first found this Ithought, oh, it's a sort of truck, well, well, and then I walked up hereand I found that it was a truck with-"

"Teeth," said Grimma, softly. "Great big metal teeth. A mouth at bothends?"

"That's right," said Dorcas proudly. "The Cat. A sort of truck. A truckwith two heads. A truck with teeth."

Dah-DUM

"Does it-does it work?" said Grimma. "It should. It should. I've tested what I can. Basic principle is like a truck, but there's a lot of extra levers and things-"

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" Grimma demanded.

"Dunno. Because I didn't have to, I suppose," said Dorcas.

"But it's huge. You can't keep something like this to yourself!"

"Everyone has to have something they can keep to themselves," said Dorcas vaguely. "Anyway, the size isn't important. It's just so, well, soperfect." Dorcas patted a knobby tire. "You know, you said humans thinksomeone made the world in a week? When I saw the Cat for the first time I thought, okay, this is what he used."

He stared up into the shadows.

"First thing we've got to do is get the tarp off," he said. "It'll be very heavy, so we'll need lots of people. You'd better warn them. The Cat can be a bit scary when you see it for the first time."

"Didn't frighten me a bit," said Grimma.

"I know," said Dorcas. "I was watching your face."

The nomes looked expectantly at Grimma.

"The thing to remember," she said, "is that it's just a machine. Just a sort of truck. But when you first see it, it can be rather frightening, so hold on to small children's hands. And run smartly backward when thetarp comes down."

There was a chorus of nods.

"All right. Grab hold."

Six hundred nomes spat on their hands and grasped the edge of the heavy cloth.

"When I say pull, I want you to pull."

The nomes took the strain.

"Pull!"

The creases in the tarp flattened out and disappeared.

"Pull!"

It began to move. Then, as it slid over the Cat's angular shape, its own weight started to tug at it.

"Run!"

It came down like an oily green avalanche, piling up into a mountain of folds, but no one bothered about it because the sun shone through thedusty, cobwebbed windows and made the Cat glow.

Several nomes screamed. Mothers picked up their children. There was amovement toward the doors.

The light twinkled on the tips of the teeth.

It does look like a head, Grimma thought. On a long neck. And he's gotanother one at the other end. What am I saying? It has got another one atthe other end.

"I said it's all right!" she shouted over the rising din. "Look! It's noteven moving!"

"Hey!" shouted another voice. She looked up. Nooty and Sacco had climbedout along the Cat's neck, and were sitting there, waving cheerfully.

That did it. The tide of nomes reached the wall and stopped. You alwaysfeel foolish, running away from something that isn't chasing you. Theyhesitated and then slowly inched their way back.

"Well, well," said Granny Morkie, hobbling forward. "So that's whatthey look like. I always wondered."

Grimma stared at her.

"What what look like?" she said.

"Oh, the big diggers," said Granny. "They'd all gone when I was born, butour dad saw 'em. Great big yellow things with teeth that et dirt, hesaid. I always thought he was having me on."

The Cat was still not eating people. Some of the more adventurous nomesstarted to climb on it.

"It was when the big highway was built," Granny went on, leaning on herstick. "They were all over the place, Dad said. Big yellow things withteeth and knobby tires."

Grimma stared at her with the kind of expression reserved for peoplewho turn out, against all expectation, to have interesting and secrethistories.

"And there was others too," the old woman went on. "Things that shoveddirt in piles and everything. This would have been, oh, fifteen yearsago now. Never thought I'd see one."

"You mean the highways were made?" said Grimma. The Cat was covered withyoung nomes now. She could see Dorcas in the back of the cab, explainingwhat various levers did.

"That's what he said," said Granny. "You didn't think they was natch'ral, did you?"

"Oh. No. No. Of course not," said Grimma. "Don't be silly."

And she thought, I wonder if Dorcas is right? Perhaps everything wasmade. Everything in the whole world. Some parts early, some parts later.

You start with hills and clouds and things, and then you add highways andStores. Perhaps the job of humans is to make the world, and they're stilldoing it. That's why the machines have to suit them.

Gurder would have understood this sort of thing. I wish he were back.

And then Masklin would be back too.

She tried to think about something else.

Knobby tires. That was a good start. The Cat's back wheels were nearly ashigh as a human. It doesn't need highways. Of course it doesn't. It makeshighways. So it has to be able to go where highways aren't.

She pushed her way through the crowds to the back of the cab, whereanother group of nomes were already nomehandling a plank into position, and scrambled up to where Dorcas was trying to make himself heard in themiddle of an excited crowd.

"You're going to drive this out of here?" she demanded.

He looked up.

"Oh, yes," he said happily. "I think so. I hope so. I imagine we've gotat least an hour before any more humans come, and it's not a lotdifferent from a truck."