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Finally, we were released from the attentions of the border guards who had completed their tasks with a degree of plodding efficiency - every "i" crossed and every "t" dotted, or something - and allowed to go on our way. A hasty conversation with Nether suggested that we should travel to my offices, on the grounds that we couldn't think of a better place to go. It was reasonably defensible, highly familiar - to me, at least - and there were a number of additional resources and other advantages that I habitually keep carefully concealed around the place. On the way, Nether and I had to keep up a continuous stream of answers and explanations, Rosie having reverted from being dumb with awe to child-like curiosity about anything and everything. Although he didn't ask any questions himself, I did note that Gumshoe was paying close attention to the answers we were giving, and I didn't doubt that all this information was being squirraled away in the highly efficient brain that he keeps hidden away behind his rather bull-like exterior. She wanted to know how the travel tubes work - an explanation that neither Nether nor I could manage in English, since neither words nor concepts seemed to be translatable. We were easily able to say that this building was a bank and that a hospital, that this place was a museum, and that a manufactory of everyday and household glamours, and the shops and markets were self-explanatory anyway. Of course there were other buildings neither of us could identify, and I began to realise just how little I knew about the minutiae of our world. She wanted to know what held the ceiling up - great big supporting columns and careful engineering was the short answer - and whether it ever fell down - never, for the same reasons. She asked about money and food and clothing, and children and schools and upbringing, none of which were amenable to any simple explanation. I felt like a tourist guide, or perhaps a schoolteacher - neither of which were professions I had ever felt I had any aptitude for. As we walked, we kept to quieter streets and byways as much as possible. Powered vehicles are all but unknown in the Lower Realms - unlike the plethora of planes, trains and automobiles which litter the surface world - and the parts of everybody's journey that is outside the transit tube network is on foot. Rosie and Nether would always stand out in a crowd, head and shoulders above everyone else, despite their relatively diminutive stature by human standards, and humans tended to attract the attention of passers-by, an attention I was keen to minimise. In a little more than an hour we were all ensconced in my office. Rosie was sitting reasonably comfortably in one of my guest chairs and Nether - entirely at his ease, it seemed - in the other. Gumshoe, whose bulk would inevitably mean that most Goblin furniture would be impossible, chose to sit on the floor with his back to the filing cabinets. I attended to such host-like duties as the facilities of my office would allow, offering strong black coffee to counteract the effects of a sleepless night, or whiskey and water for nerves. To nobody's surprise, all present took both coffee and whiskey, although the effects seemed to be most immediate on Nether. "You should all get some rest, sleep for an hour," he said, looking exceptionally bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, "I'll keep watch for now." "Are you sure?" I asked, not quite stifling a yawn. "I'll be fine," he replied jauntily, "I've done this kind of thing before. Trust me." I was dubious for a moment, but Nether seemed so confident, so alert, that I could not harbour serious doubts about his abilities. Besides, I was feeling distinctly tired and a short nap would certainly put things to rights. "Okay." I plonked myself in the squeaky chair behind my desk - it seemed to have become silent all of a sudden - lay back and put my feet on the desk, tilted my hat over my eyes and promptly fell asleep.
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Part 65