Truckers
Nomes are small. On the whole, small creatures don’t live for a long time. But perhaps they do live fast.
Let me explain.
One of the shortest-lived creatures on the planet Earth is the adult common mayfly. It lasts for one day. The longest-living things are bristlecone pine trees, at 4,700 years and still counting.
This may seem tough on mayflies. But the important thing is not how long your life is, but how long it seems. (Truck)
'Well, tell me what humans are!'
'Humans are the indigenous inhabitants of the world we call Thestore. Resuming main task.'
'There', said Torrit, nodding wisely. 'I told you didn't I. They're indigenous. Clever, yes, but basically just indigenous. Just a lot of indigenouses.' He hesitated. 'Indigenice,' he correct himself. (Truck)
... the Abbot looked so old that he must have been around to give Time itself a bit of a push. (Truck)
'The important thing about being a leader is not being right or wrong but being certain. Otherwise people wouldn't know what to think. Of course, it helps to be right as well,' the Abbot conceded. (Truck)
'It seems to me that you have exactly the right qualification for being a leader.'
'I don't think so!'
'That's what I mean. You don't want to be one.' (Truck)
'People are always a lot more complicated that you think,' he said. 'It's very important to remember that.' (Truck)
'Why can’t women be Stationeri, then?’ said Grimma.
‘It’s a well-known fact that women can’t read,’ said Gurder. ‘It’s not their fault, of course. Apparently their brains get too hot. With the strain, you know.' (Truck)
If you thought hard enough, he'd always considered, you could work out everything. The wind, for example. It had always puzzled him until the day he'd realized that it was caused by all the trees waving about. (Truck)
'She's a servant of the Store,' said Gurder, who was still trembling. 'She's the enemy of the dreadful Prices Slashed, who wanders the corridors at night with his terrible shining light, to catch evil nomes!'
'It's a good job you don't believe in him, then,' said Masklin.
'Of course I don't,' agreed Gurder.
'Your teeth are chattering, though.'
'That's because my teeth believe in him. And so do my knees. and my stomach. It's only mt head that doesn't and it's being carried around by a load of superstitious cowards.' (Truck)
'Goodness me, I can’t go around letting people believe I’ve been wrong all along, can I? The Abbots have been denying there is anything Outside for generations. I can’t suddenly say they were all wrong. People would think I've gone mad.’
‘Would they?’ said Masklin.
‘Oh, yes. Politics, you see.' (Truck)
And then there were these ‘light years’. The Abbot had seen nearly fifteen years go past, and they had seemed quite heavy at the time – full of problems, swollen with responsibilities. Lighter ones would have been better. (Truck)
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. (Truck)
They were talking, their mouths were opening and shutting, every word by itself was perfectly understandable, but when they were all put together, they made no sense at all. (Truck)
He'd learned that humans in the Store had their names on little badges, because – he’d been told – they were so stupid they wouldn’t remember them otherwise. (Truck)
'He says he's dyin', I suppose he should know.'
'Dying of what?' said Masklin.
Dyin' of bein' alive for such a long time,' said Granny. (Truck)
Granny’s remedies, made from simple, honest and generally nearly poisonous herbs and roots, were amazing things. After one dose of stomach-ache jollop, you made sure you never complained of stomach ache ever again. In its way, it was a sort of cure. (Truck)
'Can he hear me?' said Gurder.
'Maybe,' said Grimma. 'Perhaps. But he won't be able to answer you, because he's dead.' (Truck)
He knew what he had to do. It was, of course, an impossible task. But he was used to them. Dragging a rat all the way from the wood to the hole had been an impossible task. But it wasn’t impossible to drag it a little way, so you did that, and then you had a rest, and then you dragged it a little way again…The way to deal with an impossible task was to chop it down into a number of merely very difficult tasks and break each one of them into a group of horribly hard tasks, and each one of them into tricky jobs, and each one of them. (Truck)
They wouldn't be able to get to grips with the fact that the stars, fr'instance, were much further away. Even if you ran all the way, it'd probably take weeks to reach them. (Truck)
He'd thought it would be difficult, learning to drive, learning how a lorry worked, learning to read, but they were, well, just tasks. You could see all the difficulties before you started. If you work at them long enough, then you were bound to succeed. He'd been right. The difficult thing was going to be all the people. (Truck)
'And there’s something else called progress chasing.’
‘What's that?’
‘I think it means shouting at people, “Why haven’t you done it yet?"' (Truck)
'How did you work that out?' said Grimma.
‘The Thing told me,’ said Masklin. ‘It’s something called critical path analysis. It means there’s always something you should have done first. For example, if you want to build a house you need to know how to make bricks, and before you can make bricks you need to know what kind of clay to use. And so on.’
‘What's clay?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘What’re bricks?’
‘Not sure.’
‘Well, what’s a house?’ she demanded.
‘Haven’t quite worked it out,’ said Masklin. ‘But anyway, it's all very important.’ (Truck)
A leader should know all about truth and honesty, and when to see the difference. (Truck)
'What's up with him?’ said Masklin.
Granny Morkie started to roll bandages in a businesslike way. No one needed them, but she believed in having a good supply. Enough for the whole world, apparently.
‘He’s having to think’’ she said. ‘That always worries people.' (Truck)
'You're going to need a powerful lot of nomes to do all this. And they're going to need training.'
'But, but all that they'd have to do is pull and push when they're told, won't they?'
Dorcas hummed under his breath again. Masklin got the impression that he always did that if he was going to break some bad news.
'Well laddie,' he said. 'I'm six, I've seen a lot of people and I've got to tell you, if you lined up ten nomes and shouted "Pull", four of them would push and two of them would say "Pardon?" That's how people are.' (Truck)
Let me explain.
One of the shortest-lived creatures on the planet Earth is the adult common mayfly. It lasts for one day. The longest-living things are bristlecone pine trees, at 4,700 years and still counting.
This may seem tough on mayflies. But the important thing is not how long your life is, but how long it seems. (Truck)
'Well, tell me what humans are!'
'Humans are the indigenous inhabitants of the world we call Thestore. Resuming main task.'
'There', said Torrit, nodding wisely. 'I told you didn't I. They're indigenous. Clever, yes, but basically just indigenous. Just a lot of indigenouses.' He hesitated. 'Indigenice,' he correct himself. (Truck)
... the Abbot looked so old that he must have been around to give Time itself a bit of a push. (Truck)
'The important thing about being a leader is not being right or wrong but being certain. Otherwise people wouldn't know what to think. Of course, it helps to be right as well,' the Abbot conceded. (Truck)
'It seems to me that you have exactly the right qualification for being a leader.'
'I don't think so!'
'That's what I mean. You don't want to be one.' (Truck)
'People are always a lot more complicated that you think,' he said. 'It's very important to remember that.' (Truck)
'Why can’t women be Stationeri, then?’ said Grimma.
‘It’s a well-known fact that women can’t read,’ said Gurder. ‘It’s not their fault, of course. Apparently their brains get too hot. With the strain, you know.' (Truck)
If you thought hard enough, he'd always considered, you could work out everything. The wind, for example. It had always puzzled him until the day he'd realized that it was caused by all the trees waving about. (Truck)
'She's a servant of the Store,' said Gurder, who was still trembling. 'She's the enemy of the dreadful Prices Slashed, who wanders the corridors at night with his terrible shining light, to catch evil nomes!'
'It's a good job you don't believe in him, then,' said Masklin.
'Of course I don't,' agreed Gurder.
'Your teeth are chattering, though.'
'That's because my teeth believe in him. And so do my knees. and my stomach. It's only mt head that doesn't and it's being carried around by a load of superstitious cowards.' (Truck)
'Goodness me, I can’t go around letting people believe I’ve been wrong all along, can I? The Abbots have been denying there is anything Outside for generations. I can’t suddenly say they were all wrong. People would think I've gone mad.’
‘Would they?’ said Masklin.
‘Oh, yes. Politics, you see.' (Truck)
And then there were these ‘light years’. The Abbot had seen nearly fifteen years go past, and they had seemed quite heavy at the time – full of problems, swollen with responsibilities. Lighter ones would have been better. (Truck)
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. (Truck)
They were talking, their mouths were opening and shutting, every word by itself was perfectly understandable, but when they were all put together, they made no sense at all. (Truck)
He'd learned that humans in the Store had their names on little badges, because – he’d been told – they were so stupid they wouldn’t remember them otherwise. (Truck)
'He says he's dyin', I suppose he should know.'
'Dying of what?' said Masklin.
Dyin' of bein' alive for such a long time,' said Granny. (Truck)
Granny’s remedies, made from simple, honest and generally nearly poisonous herbs and roots, were amazing things. After one dose of stomach-ache jollop, you made sure you never complained of stomach ache ever again. In its way, it was a sort of cure. (Truck)
'Can he hear me?' said Gurder.
'Maybe,' said Grimma. 'Perhaps. But he won't be able to answer you, because he's dead.' (Truck)
He knew what he had to do. It was, of course, an impossible task. But he was used to them. Dragging a rat all the way from the wood to the hole had been an impossible task. But it wasn’t impossible to drag it a little way, so you did that, and then you had a rest, and then you dragged it a little way again…The way to deal with an impossible task was to chop it down into a number of merely very difficult tasks and break each one of them into a group of horribly hard tasks, and each one of them into tricky jobs, and each one of them. (Truck)
They wouldn't be able to get to grips with the fact that the stars, fr'instance, were much further away. Even if you ran all the way, it'd probably take weeks to reach them. (Truck)
He'd thought it would be difficult, learning to drive, learning how a lorry worked, learning to read, but they were, well, just tasks. You could see all the difficulties before you started. If you work at them long enough, then you were bound to succeed. He'd been right. The difficult thing was going to be all the people. (Truck)
'And there’s something else called progress chasing.’
‘What's that?’
‘I think it means shouting at people, “Why haven’t you done it yet?"' (Truck)
'How did you work that out?' said Grimma.
‘The Thing told me,’ said Masklin. ‘It’s something called critical path analysis. It means there’s always something you should have done first. For example, if you want to build a house you need to know how to make bricks, and before you can make bricks you need to know what kind of clay to use. And so on.’
‘What's clay?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘What’re bricks?’
‘Not sure.’
‘Well, what’s a house?’ she demanded.
‘Haven’t quite worked it out,’ said Masklin. ‘But anyway, it's all very important.’ (Truck)
A leader should know all about truth and honesty, and when to see the difference. (Truck)
'What's up with him?’ said Masklin.
Granny Morkie started to roll bandages in a businesslike way. No one needed them, but she believed in having a good supply. Enough for the whole world, apparently.
‘He’s having to think’’ she said. ‘That always worries people.' (Truck)
'You're going to need a powerful lot of nomes to do all this. And they're going to need training.'
'But, but all that they'd have to do is pull and push when they're told, won't they?'
Dorcas hummed under his breath again. Masklin got the impression that he always did that if he was going to break some bad news.
'Well laddie,' he said. 'I'm six, I've seen a lot of people and I've got to tell you, if you lined up ten nomes and shouted "Pull", four of them would push and two of them would say "Pardon?" That's how people are.' (Truck)