'This is not the case. You said: do you know what humans are. My answer was correct in every respect.' 'Well, tell me what humans are!' 'Humans are the indigenous inhabitants of the world you now 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 corrected himself.
'Are we indigenous?' said Masklin.
'Main task interrupted. No. Main task resumed.' ''Course not,' said Torrit witheringly. 'We've got a bit of pride.' Masklin opened his mouth to ask what indigenous meant. He knew he didn't know, and he was certain that Torrit didn't. And after that he wanted to ask a lot more questions, and before he asked them he'd have to think about the words he used.
I don't know enough words, he thought. Some things you can't think, unless you know the right words.
But he didn't get around to it, because a voice behind him said, Powerful strange things, ain't they? And very busy just lately. I wonder what's got into them?' It was an elderly, rather stocky nome. And drably dressed, which was unusual in the Store. Most of his clothing was a huge apron, its pockets bulging mysteriously.
'Have you been spying on us?' said Granny Morkie.
The stranger gave a shrug.
'I usually come here to watch humans,' he said.
'It's a good spot. There isn't usually anyone else here. What department are you?' 'We haven't got one,' said Masklin.
'We're just people,' said Granny.
'Not indigenous, either,' Torrit added quickly. The stranger grinned, and slid off the wooden beam he'd been sitting on.
'Fancy that,' he said. 'You must be these new things I've heard about. Outsiders?' He held out his hand. Masklin looked at it cautiously.