Read Online Diggers by Terry Pratchett - Free Book Online

back to the Good Old Ways. Make Arnold Bros (est. 1905) feel at home. Build the Store inside their heads .
    Nomes didn’t often go mad. Dorcas vaguely recalled an elderly nome who had once decided that he was a teapot, but he’d changed his mind after a few days.
    Nisodemus, though, had definitely been getting too much fresh air.
    It was obvious that one or two other nomes thought so too.
    â€œI don’t quite see,” said one of them, “how Arnold Bros (est. 1905) is going to stop these humans. No offense meant.”
    â€œDid humans interfere with us when we were in the Store?” demanded Nisodemus.
    â€œWell, no, because—”
    â€œThen trust in Arnold Bros (est. 1905)!”
    â€œBut that didn’t stop the Store being demolished, did it?” said a voice. “When it came to it, you all trusted Masklin and Gurder and the Truck. And yourselves! Nisodemus is always telling you how clever you are. Try and be clever, then!”
    Dorcas realized it was Grimma. He’d never seen anyone so angry.
    She pushed her way through the apprehensive nomes until she was face to face, or at least, since Nisodemus was standing on something and she wasn’t, face to chest. He was one of those people who liked standing on things.
    â€œWhat will actually happen , then?” she shouted. “When you’ve built the Store, what will happen ? Humans came into the Store, you know!”
    Nisodemus’s mouth opened and shut for a while. Then he said, “But they obeyed the Regulations! Yes! Um! That’s what they did! And things were better then!”
    She glared at him.
    â€œYou don’t really think people are going to accept that, do you?” she said.
    There was silence.
    â€œYou’ve got to admit,” said an elderly nome, very slowly, “things were better then.”
    The nomes shuffled their feet.
    That was all you could hear.
    Just people, shuffling their feet.
    â€œThey just accepted it!” said Grimma. “Just like that! No one’s bothered about the Council anymore! They just do what he tells them!”
    Now she was in Dorcas’s workspace under a bench in the old quarry garage. My little sanctuary, he always called it. My little nook. Bits of wire and tin were scattered everywhere. The wall was covered with scrawls done with a bit of pencil lead.
    Dorcas sat and twiddled a bit of wire aimlessly.
    â€œYou’re being hard on people,” he said quietly. “You shouldn’t yell at them like that. They’ve been through a lot. They get all confused if you shout at them. The Council was all right for when times were good—” He shrugged. “And without Masklin and Gurder and Angalo, well, it hardly seems worthwhile.”
    â€œBut after all that’s happened!” She waved her arms. “To act so stupidly , just because he’s offered them—”
    â€œA bit of comfort,” said Dorcas. He shook his head. You couldn’t explain things like this to people like Grimma. Nice girl, bright head on her, but she kept thinking that everyone else was as passionate about things as she was. All people really wanted, Dorcas considered, was to be left alone. The world was quite difficult enough as it was without people going around trying to make it better all the time.
    Masklin had understood that. He knew the way to make people do what you wanted was to make them think it was their idea. If there was one thing that got right up a nome’s nose, it was someone saying, “Here is a really sensible idea. Why are you too stupid to understand?”
    It wasn’t that people were stupid. It was just that people were people.
    â€œCome on,” he said wearily. “Let’s go and see how the signs are getting on.”
    The whole of the floor of one of the big sheds had been turned over to the making of the signs. Or rather, the Signs. Another thing Nisodemus was good at was giving words capital