"I don't think we should get too disturbed right at this-" Gurder began.

"We've got families here," said another nome. Masklin realized that itwas Angalo. He'd been married in the spring to a young lady from the DelIcatessen family, and they'd already got a fine pair of youngsters, twomonths old and talking already.

"And we were going to have another go at planting seeds," said anothernome. "We've spent ages clearing that ground behind the big sheds. Youknow that."

Gurder raised his hand imploringly.

"We don't know anything," he said. "We mustn't start getting upset untilwe've found out what's going on."

"And then can we get upset?" said another nome sourly. Masklin recognisedNisodemus, one of the Stationeri and Gurder's own assistant. He'd neverliked the young nome, and the young nome had never liked anyone, as far as Masklin could see. "I've never, um, been happy with the feel of thisplace, um, I knew there was going to be trouble-"

"Now, now, Nisodemus," said Gurder. "There's no cause to go talking likethat. We'll have another meeting of the council," he added. "That's whatwe'll do."

The crumpled newspaper lay beside the road. Occasionally a breeze wouldblow it randomly along the verge, while a few inches away, the trafficthundered past.

A stronger gust hit at the same time as a particularly large truckroared by, dragging a tail of whirling air. The paper shot up over theroad, spread out like a sail, and rose on the wind.

The Quarry Council was in session, in the space under the floor of theold quarry office.

Other nomes had crowded in and the rest of the tribe milled around outside.

"Look," said Angalo, "there's a big old barn up on the hill, the otherside of the potato field. It wouldn't hurt to take some stores up there.

Make it ready, you know. Just in case. Then if anything does happen, we've got somewhere to go."