Read Online Truckers by Terry Pratchett - Free Book Online Page A

floor.
    â€œNow,” he whispered.
    â€œAm I in the presence of community leaders?” asked the Thing.
    â€œAbout as much as you ever will be,” said Dorcas. The Abbot stared at the box.
    â€œI will use small words,” said the Thing. “I am the Flight Recording and Navigation Computer. A computer is a machine that thinks. Think, computer, think. See the computer think. I use electricity. Sometimes electricity can carry messages. I can hear the messages. I can under-stand the messages. Sometimes the messages go along wires called telephone wires. Sometimes they are in other computers. There is a computer in the Store. It pays humans their wages. I can hear it think. It thinks: No more Store soon, no more payroll, no more accounts. The telephone wires, they say, Is that Blackbury Demolition Co.? Can we discuss final arrangements for the demolition, all stock will be out by the twenty-first—”
    â€œVery amusing,” said the Abbot. “How did you make it?”
    â€œI didn’t make it, my lord. These people brought it here—”
    â€œWhich people?” said the Abbot, looking straight through Masklin.
    â€œWhat happens if I go and pull his nose?” whispered Granny, in a hoarse whisper.
    â€œIt would be extremely painful,” said Dorcas.
    â€œGood.”
    â€œI mean for you.”
    The Abbot rose hesitantly to his feet.
    â€œI am a tolerant nome,” he said. “You speculate about things Outside, and I do not mind, I say it is good mental exercise. We wouldn’t be nomes if we didn’t sometimes allow our minds to wander. But to insist that it is real , that is not to be tolerated. Little tricksy toys . . .” He hobbled forward and brought one stick down sharply on the Thing, which buzzed. “Intolerable! There is nothing Outside, and no one to live in it! Life in other Stores, pah! Audience concluded! Be off with you.”
    â€œI can stand an impact of two thousand five hundred tons,” said the Thing smugly, although no one took much notice.
    â€œAway! Away!” shouted the Abbot, and Masklin saw that he was trembling.
    That was the strange thing about the Store. Only a few days ago, there weren’t that many things you needed to know, and they mainly involved big hungry creatures and how to avoid them. Fieldcraft, Torrit had called it. Now it was beginning to dawn on Masklin that there was a different sort of knowledge, and it consisted of the things you needed to understand in order to survive among other nomes. Things like: Be very careful when you tell people things they don’t want to hear. And: The thought that they may be wrong makes people very angry.
    Some of the lesser Stationeri ushered them hurriedly through the doorway. It was done quite expertly, without any of them actually touching Masklin’s people or even looking them in the face. Several of them scattered hastily away from Torrit when he picked up the Thing and held it protectively.
    Finally Granny Morkie’s temper, which was never particularly long, shortened to vanishing point. She grabbed the nearest monk by his black robe and held him up inches in front of her nose. His eyes crossed frantically with the effort of not seeing her. She poked him violently in the chest.
    â€œDo you feel my finger?” she demanded. “Do you feel it? Not here, am I?”
    â€œIndigenous!” said Torrit.
    The monk solved his immediate problem by giving a little whimper and fainting.
    â€œLet’s get away from here,” said Dorcas hurriedly. “I suspect it’s only a small step between not seeing people and making sure they don’t exist.”
    â€œI don’t understand,” said Grimma. “How can people not see us?”
    â€œBecause they know we’re from Outside,” said Masklin.
    â€œBut other nomes can see us!” said Grimma, her voice rising. Masklin didn’t blame her. He was beginning to feel a bit