Truckers by Terry Pratchett Read Free Book Online Page A

shrug.
    â€œI usually come here to watch humans,” he said. “It’s a good spot. There isn’t usually anyone else here. What department are you?”
    â€œWe haven’t got one,” said Masklin.
    â€œWe’re just people,” said Granny.
    â€œNot indigenous, either,” Torrit added quickly.
    The stranger grinned and slid off the wooden beam he’d been sitting on.
    â€œFancy that,” he said. “You must be these new things I’ve heard about. Outsiders?”
    He held out his hand. Masklin looked at it cautiously.
    â€œYes?” he said politely.
    The stranger sighed. “You’re supposed to shake it,” he said.
    â€œI am? Why?”
    â€œIt’s traditional. My name’s Dorcas del Icatessen.” The stranger gave Masklin a lopsided grin. “Do you know yours?” he said.
    Masklin ignored this. “What do you mean, you watch humans?” he said.
    â€œI watch humans. Study them, you know. It’s what I do. You can learn a lot about the future by watching humans.”
    â€œA bit like the weather, you mean?” said Masklin.
    â€œWeather! Of course, weather!” The nome grinned hugely. “You’d know all about the weather. Powerful stuff, weather?”
    â€œYou’ve heard of it?” said Masklin.
    â€œOnly the old stories. Hmm.” Dorcas looked him up and down. “I reckoned Outsiders’d have to be a different shape, though. Life, but not as we know it. You just come along with me. I’ll show you what I mean.”
    Masklin looked slowly around the dusty space between the floors. This was just about it. He’d had just about enough of it. It was too warm and too dry and everyone treated him like a fool, and now they thought he was the wrong shape.
    â€œWell—” he began, and under his arm the Thing said, “We need this person.”
    â€œMy word,” said Dorcas. “What a tiny radio. They get smaller all the time, don’t they?”
    Where Dorcas led them was just a hole. Big, square, deep, and dark. A few cables, fatter than a nome, disappeared down into the depths.
    â€œYou live down here?” asked Grimma.
    Dorcas fumbled in the darkness. There was a click. Far above, something went bang and there was a distant roaring sound.
    â€œHmm? Oh, no,” he said. “Took me ages to sort out, did this. It’s a sort of floor on a rope. It goes up and down, you know. With humans in it. So I thought, I’m not getting any younger, all those stairs were playing havoc with my legs, so I had a look at the way it worked. Perfectly simple. It’d have to be, o’ course, otherwise humans wouldn’t know how to use it. Stand back, please.”
    Something huge and black came down the shaft and stopped a few inches above their heads. There were clangs and thumps and the now-familiar sound of clumsy humans walking about.
    There was also, slung under the elevator’s floor, a small wire basket tied on with bits of string.
    â€œIf you think,” said Granny Morkie, “that I’m going to get into a, a wire nest on a string, then you’ve got another—”
    â€œIs it safe?” said Masklin.
    â€œMore or less, more or less,” said Dorcas, stepping across the gap and fumbling with another little bundle of switches. “Hurry up, please. This way, madam.”
    â€œEr, how much more than less?” asked Masklin as Granny, astonished at being called madam, got aboard.
    â€œWell, my bit I’m sure is safe,” said Dorcas. “The bit above us was put together by humans, though, and you never can tell. Hold tight, please. Going up !”
    There was a clang above them and a slight jerk as they began to rise.
    â€œGood, isn’t it,” said Dorcas. “Took me ages to bypass all the switches. You’d have thought they’d notice, wouldn’t you? They press the button to go down, but if I want to go up,