Terry Pratchett - The Bromeliad 2 - Diggers

And a lot of the nomes had done this before too ...

She heard Dorcas shout, "Try it this time!"

There was a click. There was a whirr. Then the Cat roared.

The sound bounced around the cave of the shed. It was so loud and so deepit wasn't really sound at all, just something that turned the air hardand then hit you with it. Nomes flung themselves flat on the tremblingdeck of the cab.

Grimma, clutching at her ears, saw Dorcas running across the floor, waving his hands. The team on the accelerator pedal gave him a "Who, us?" look and stopped pushing.

The sound died down to a deep, rumbling purr, a mummummummum that stillhad a feel-it-in-the-bone quality. Dorcas hurried back and climbed, witha lot of stopping for breath, up to the plank.

When he got there he sat down and rubbed his brow.

"I'm getting too old for this sort of thing," he said. "When a nome getsto a certain age, it's time to stop stealing giant vehicles. Well-knownfact. Anyway. It's ticking over nicely. You might as well take us out."

"What, all by myself?" said Grimma.

"Yes. Why not?"

"It's just that, well, I thought Sacco or someone would be up here." Ithought a male nome would be driving, she thought.

"They'd like to," said Dorcas. "They'd love to. And we'd be zipping allover the place, I don't doubt it, with them crying 'yippee!' and whatnot.

No. I want a nice peaceful drive across the fields, thank you very much.

The gentle touch."

He leaned down.

"Everyone ready down there?" he yelled.

There was a chorus of nervous "yesses," and one or two cheerful ones. "I wonder if putting Sacco in charge of the go-faster pedal is really a good idea," mused Dorcas. He straightened up.

"Er. You're not worried, are you?" he said.

Grimma snorted. "What? Me? No. Of course not. It does not," she added, "present a problem."

"O-kay," he said. "Let's go."

There was silence, except for the deep thrumming of the engine.

Grimma paused.

If Masklin were here, she thought, he'd do this better than me. No one mentions him anymore. Or Angalo. Or Gurder. They don't like thinkingabout them. That must be something nomes learned hundreds of years ago, in this world full of foxes and rushing things and a hundred nasty waysto die. If someone is missing, you must stop thinking about them, youmust put them out of your mind. But I think about him all the time.

I just went on about the frogs in the flowers, and I never thought about his dreams.

Dorcas gently put his arm around her. She was shaking. Everyone was shaking to the deep chugging of the motor. But she was shaking worse. "We should have sent some people to the airport to see what happened to him," she muttered. "It would have showed that we cared, and-"

"We didn't have the time, and we didn't have the people," said Dorcas softly. "When he comes back we can explain about that. He's bound to understand." "Yes," she whispered.

"And now," said Dorcas, standing back, "let's go!"

Grimma took a deep breath.

"First gear," she bellowed, "and go forward verrrry slowly."

The teams pushed and pulled their way over the deck. There was a slight shudder and the engine noise dropped. The Cat lurched forward and jolted to a stop. The motor coughed and died.

Dorcas looked thoughtfully at his fingernails. "Hand brake, hand brake, hand brake," he hummed softly.

Grimma glared at him, and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Take the hand brake off!" she shouted. "Right! Now, get into first gear and go forward very slowly!" There was a click, and silence.

"Startthemotor, startthemotor, startthemotor," murmured Dorcas, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Grimma sagged. "Put everything back where it was and start the motor," she screamed.

Nooty, in charge of the hand brake team, called up, "Do you want the handbrake on or off, miss?"

"What?"

"You haven't told us what to do with the hand brake, miss," said Sacco.

The nomes with him started to grin.

Grimma shook a finger at him. "Listen, mister," she snapped, "if I haveto come down there and tell you what to do with the hand brake, you'llall be extremely sorry, all right? Now stop giggling like that and getthis thing moving! Quickly!"

There was a click. The Cat howled again and started to move. A cheer wentup from the nomes.

"Right," said Grimma. "That's more like it."

"The doors, the doors, the doors, we didn't open the doors," hummedDorcas.

"Of course we didn't open the doors," said Grimma as the digger began togo faster. "We never open the doors! What do we need to open the doorsfor? This is the Cat!"

V. There is nothing that can be in our way, forthis is the Cat, that laughs at barriers, andpurrs brrm-brrm.

-From the Book of Nome, Cat III, v. V

It was an old shed. It was a very rusty shed. It was a shed that wobbledin high winds. The only thing even vaguely new about it was the padlockon the door, which the Cat hit at about six miles an hour. The ricketybuilding rang like a gong, leapt off its foundations, and was draggedhalfway across the quarry before it fell apart in a shower of rust andsmoke. The Cat emerged like a very angry chick from a very old egg andthen rolled to a stop.

Grimma picked herself up from the plank and nervously started to pickbits of rust off herself.

"We've stopped," she said vaguely, her ears still ringing. "Why have westopped, Dorcas?"

He didn't bother to try to get up. The thump of the Cat hitting the doorhad knocked all the breath out of him.

"I think," he said, "that everyone might have been flung about a little.

Why did you want it to go so fast?"

"Sorry!" Sacco called up. "Bit of a misunderstanding there, I think!"

Grimma pulled herself together. "Well," she said, "I got us out, anyway.

I've got the hang of it now. We'll just ... we'll just ... we'll ..." Dorcas heard her voice fade into silence. He looked up.

There was a truck parked in front of the quarry. And three humans were running toward the Cat in big, floating bounds. "Oh, dear," he said.

"Didn't it read my note?" asked Grimma.

"I'm afraid it did," said Dorcas. "Now, we shouldn't panic. We've got a choice. We can either-" "Go forward," snapped Grimma. "Right now!" "No, no," said Dorcas weakly,

"I wasn't going to suggest that-"

"First gear!" Grimma commanded. "And lots of fast!"

"No, you don't want to do that," Dorcas murmured.

"Watch me," said Grimma. "I warned them! They can read, we know they can read! If they're really intelligent, they're intelligent enough to know better!" The Cat gathered speed.

"You mustn't do this," said Dorcas. "We've always kept away from humans!" "They don't keep away from us!" shouted Grimma.

"But-"

"They demolished the Store, they tried to stop us from escaping, now they're taking our quarry, and they don't even know what we are!" said Grimma. "Remember the gardening department in the Store? Those horrible garden ornament statues? Well, I'm going to show them real nomes ..." "You can't beat humans!" shouted Dorcas above the roar of the engine. "They're too big! You're too small!"

"They may be big," said Grimma, "and I may be small. But I'm the one with the great big truck. With teeth." She leaned over the plank. "Everyone hang on down there," she shouted. "This may be rough." It had dawned on the great slow creatures outside that something was wrong. They stopped their lumbering charge and, very slowly, tried to dodge out of the way. Two of them managed to leap into the empty office as the Cat bowled past. "I see," said Grimma. "They must think we're stupid. Take a big left turn. More. More. Now stop. Okay." She rubbed her hands together.

"What are you going to do?" whispered Dorcas, terrified.