he foreman kept shouting. 'Hurry it  up, or we'll  never  be
through!'
     They didn't finish the job  till midnight, by  which time Beppo's shirt
was clinging  to his back. Being older than the rest and not the most robust
of men,  he flopped down wearily on an upturned plastic bucket and struggled
to get his breath back.
     'Hey,  Beppo,'  one  of  his workmates  called,  'we're  off  home now.
Coming?'
     'In a minute,' wheezed Beppo. He clasped one hand to his aching chest.
     'Feeling all right, old man?' called someone else.
     'I'm fine,'  Beppo called back. 'Just  taking a little breather, that's
all. Don't wait for me.'
     'Okay,' said the others, 'good night.' And off they went.
     It was  quiet when  they'd gone, except for  an occasional  rustle  and
squeak from rats scrabbling in the  garbage. Beppo pillowed  his head on his
folded arms and dozed off.
     He didn't know how long he'd been asleep when he was
     104
     roused by a  gust of cold air. One look was enough to jolt him awake in
an instant.
     All over  the huge mound of garbage stood grey figures attired in smart
grey suits and  grey bowler hats, steel-grey briefcases  in their  hands and
small grey cigars  in their  mouths. They were gazing fixedly, silently,  at
the  summit of the mound. There, ensconced on a  sort of magistrates' bench,
sat three men identical to the others in every respect.
     Beppo was frightened for a moment. He had no  business to be there - he
sensed that  instinctively - and the prospect of  discovery scared him. Very
soon, however, he realized that the army of grey figures had eyes for no one
but the three-man tribunal. Either they had failed to notice him at  all, or
they  had mistaken him for some discarded object.  Whatever the explanation,
he resolved to keep as still as a mouse.
     Then the silence  was broken  by  a voice from  the judges' bench. 'The
Supreme Court is now in session,' announced  the central figure. 'Call Agent
No. BLW/553/c.'
     The cry was repeated  further down the  slope  and repeated  again some
distance away, like an echo. Threading his  way slowly through the crowd and
up the mound of garbage came a man in grey, distinguishable from his fellows
only by the pallor of his face, which was almost white.
     At last he reached the tribunal.
     'You are Agent No. BLW/553/c?' asked the man in the centre.
     'I am.'
     'How long have you been employed by the Timesaving Bank?'
     'Ever since I came into existence. Your Honour.'
     'That goes without saying  -  kindly spare us such irrelevancies.  When
did you come into existence?'
     'Eleven years, three months, six  days, eight hours, thirty-two minutes
and - at this precise moment - eighteen seconds ago.'
     105
     Oddly enough, although this exchange was being conducted a long way off
and in low, monotonous voices, Beppo didn't miss a word of it.
     'Are you aware,' the  man  in  the centre went on, 'that  a substantial
number  of  children  paraded through the  streets  today  with placards and
banners, and  that they  even entertained the outrageous notion  of inviting
the whole city to attend a briefing on our activities?'
     'It hadn't escaped me,' replied the agent.
     'How do you account for the fact that  these children knew about us and
our activities?' the senior inquisitor pursued remorselessly.
     'It's a mystery to me. Your Honour,' said the  agent. 'If I may venture
a personal  observation, however, I would urge the Supreme Court not to take
this  incident  more seriously than it deserves. It  was a piece of childish
nonsense, that's all.  I  would also urge the court  to bear in mind that we
easily managed to scotch the scheduled  meeting by leaving people no time to
attend it. Even had we failed to do so, however, I'm confident that everyone
would have dismissed the children's information as a cock-and-bull story. In
my  opinion, we would  have done better to let the meeting go ahead, because
that would -'
     'Defendant!' the judge  broke in  sharply. 'Do  you  realize where  you
are?'
     The agent wilted.  'Yes,' he whispered.  'This is no human court,'  the
judge  continued.  'You  are being tried  by  your  own kind. Lying to us is
futile, you know that perfectly well, so why bother to try?'
     'It's - it's an occupational habit,' the  agent  stammered.  'It is for
this  court  to decide  how seriously  to  take the  children's  intentions.
However, I need hardly remind you that children present a  greater threat to
our work than anyone or anything else.'
     106
     i know, the agent conceded meekly. 'Children,' declared the judge, 'are
our natural enemies. But for them, mankind would have been completely in our
power  long ago. Adults  are far easier  to turn into timesavers. That's why
one of our most sacred  commandments states, "Leave the children till last."
Are you familiar with that commandment, Defendant?'
     'Yes indeed, Your Honour,' said the  agent,  puffing hard at his cigar.
It was  a peculiar fact that,  despite  the  solemnity  of the occasion, all
present - judges, defendant and spectators -- were smoking incessantly.
     'And yet,' the judge retorted, 'we have incontrovertible proof that one
of us - I repeat, one of  us -- not  only got into conversation with a child
but betrayed us. Do you happen to know who that certain person was?'
     Agent No. BLW/553/c wilted still more. 'It was me. Your Honour.'
     'And why did you break our most sacred commandment?' 'Because the child
in question  has been seriously impeding  our work by turning people against
us. I had the interests of the Timesaving Bank at heart. My intentions  were
of the best.'
     'Your intentions don't  concern us,' the judge said icily. 'Results are
all that count here, and the  result of your unauthorized action has been to
gain us no time and acquaint a child with some of our most vital secrets. Do
you admit that?'
     The agent hung his head. 'I do,' he whispered. 'So you plead guilty?'
     'Yes, Your Honour,  but  I  would  draw the  court's  attention  to  an
extenuating circumstance: I was genuinely bewitched -- lured into  betraying
us by the way the child listened to me. I can't explain how it happened, but
I swear that's the way it was.'
     107
     'Your  excuses  are  irrelevant  and  immaterial. This  court takes  no
account of extenuating circumstances.  The  law is quite categorical on this
point and allows of no exceptions. However,  we shall certainly devote  some
attention to this unusual child. What is its name?'
     'Momo, Your Honour.'
     'Male or female?'
     'She's a girl.'
     'Place of residence?'
     'The ruined amphitheatre.'
     'Very  well,' said the judge, who had recorded all these details in his
notebook. 'You may  rest assured. Defendant, that this child will never harm
us  again  - we  shall  neutralize  her by every  available means. Let  that
thought  console you, now  that sentence is about to  be passed  and carried
out.'
     The agent began to tremble. 'What is the sentence?' he whispered.
     The  three  judges  put  their  heads  together  and  conferred  in  an
undertone. Then they nodded, and their spokesman turned to face the prisoner
again.
     Agent  No. BLW/553/c having pleaded guilty to a charge of high treason,
this court unanimously sentences him to pay  the penalty  prescribed by law.
He is to be deprived of all time forthwith.'
     'Mercy, mercy!' shrieked  the  agent, but his  steel-grey briefcase and
small cigar  had already been  snatched  away  by two  grey figures standing
beside him.
     And then a very strange thing happened. No sooner had the condemned man
lost his cigar than he  started to  become more  and  more transparent.  His
screams grew  fainter, too, as he stood  there  with  his head in his hands,
dissolving into thin air. The last  that  could  be seen of him was a little
flurry of ash eddying in the breeze, but that soon vanished too.
     Silently the men in  grey dispersed,  judges and spectators  alike Once
the darkness had swallowed them up, the sole
     108
     reminder  ot  their presence was a chill, grey wind that swirled around
the dismal and deserted garbage dump.
     Beppo continued to  sit spellbound on  his upturned bucket,  staring at
the spot where the condemned man had been standing. He felt as  if his limbs
had turned  to  ice and  were only just beginning to  thaw.  The men in grey
existed; he had seen them for himself.
     At about the same  time - the distant church clock  had already  struck
twelve - Momo was  still sitting on the  steps  of the amphitheatre. She was
waiting. For what, she didn't know, but some instinct had dissuaded her from
going to bed.
     All of  a  sudden,  something  lightly  brushed against her  bare foot.
Peering hard, for  it was very  dark, she saw a  big  tortoise looking up at
her. Its mouth seemed  to  curve in a mysterious smile, and there was such a
friendly light  in its  shrewd, black  eyes  that Momo felt it was about  to
speak.
     She bent down and  tickled it under  the chin. 'Who  might you be?' she
said  softly. 'Nice of you to  come and keep  me company,  Tortoise, even if
nobody else will. What can I do for you?'
     Momo wasn't sure whether she'd failed to notice them before, or whether
they'd only just appeared,  but she  suddenly  spotted  some letters on  the
tortoise's back. They were faintly luminous and seemed to follow the natural
patterns on its shell.
     'FOLLOW ME,' she slowly deciphered.
     Astonished, she sat up with a jerk. 'Do you mean me?' she asked.
     But the tortoise had already set off. After a few steps  it  paused and
looked back. 'It really does mean  me!' Momo said to herself. She got up and
went over  to  the  creature.  'Keep going,' she  told it softly, 'I'm right
behind you.'
     And step by step she followed the tortoise  as  it slowly, very slowly,
led her out of the amphitheatre and headed for the city.
        TEN
     More Haste Less Speed
     Old Beppo was pedalling through the  darkness on his squeaky bicycle  -
pedalling with all his might. The grey judge's words still rang in his ears:
'We shall certainly devote some attention to this unusual child  ... You may
rest  assured  that  this  child  will never  harm  us again  ...  We  shall
neutralize her by every available means ...'
     Momo was in dire peril, of that there could be no  doubt. He must go to
her at once, warn her and protect  her from the  men in grey. He didn't know
how, but he'd find a way. Beppo pedalled even faster, his tuft of white hair
fluttering in the breeze. He still had a long way to go.
     The ruined amphitheatre was ablaze with the headlights of a whole fleet
of  smart grey cars, which hemmed it in on every side. Dozens of men in grey
were  scurrying up and down  the  grass-grown steps.  At last, after peering
into every  nook and cranny,  they came upon the  hole in the wall. Some  of
them scrambled through it into Memo's room. They looked under the bed - they
even looked inside the little  brick stove. Then they reappeared, patted the
dust from their smart grey suits and shrugged.
     'The bird appears to have flown,' said one.
     'It's exasperating,' said another. 'Children should be safely tucked up
in bed at this hour, not gallivanting around in the dark.'
     'I  don't  like the  look of this,' said a third.  'It's  almost  as if
someone had tipped her off just in time.'
     110
     'Impossible,' said the first. 'He couldn't have known  of our intention
before we knew it ourselves - or could he?'
     The three of them eyed each other in dismay.
     'If someone  really did  tip her off,'  the third pointed  out, 'she'll
have made herself scarce. We'll only be wasting time if we go on looking for
her here.'
     'What do you suggest, then?'
     'I say  we  should  notify headquarters  at once,  so they can launch a
full-scale manhunt.'
     'The first thing they'll  ask us - and  quite rightly  so - is  whether
we've made a thorough search of the immediate neighbourhood.'
     'Very well,' said the first speaker, 'let's  search the area first, but
if the girl's well clear of it already, we'll be making a big mistake.'
     'Nonsense,'  snapped his colleague.  'Even if she is,  headquarters can
still  launch a full-scale  manhunt  using,  every available agent. The girl
won't  escape  - she  doesn't  stand  a chance. Right, gentlemen,  let's get
going. You all know what's at stake.'
     Many of the local inhabitants  lay awake that night,  wondering why  so
many cars kept racing  past their windows.  Even the narrowest side  streets
and roughest farm tracks  resounded  until daybreak  with a  roar of traffic
more usually heard on major roads. No one could sleep a wink.
     All this time, Momo was trudging slowly through the city in the wake of
her new-found  friend, the tortoise. The city  never slept nowadays, however
late  the  hour. Interminable streams of people surged  through the streets,
jostling and  elbowing each other aside. The roads were choked with cars and
big, noisy, overcrowded buses. Neon signs blazed  down from every  building,
intermittently bathing passers-by in their multicoloured glare.
     Momo, who had never seen any of this before, followed
     111
     the tortoise in  a kind of wide-eyed, waking dream. They made their way
across broad squares and down brightly  lit  streets. Cars flashed past them
and pedestrians milled around them, but no one looked twice at the child and
the tortoise.
     They never had to  get out of anyone's way, either. Nobody  bumped into
them, nor did any driver have to brake to avoid them. The tortoise seemed to
know precisely  when there would be no  car or pedestrian in their path,  so
they never had to vary their pace,  never had to hurry or  to stop and wait.
Momo began to wonder how any two creatures could walk so  slowly  but travel
so fast.
     When  Beppo  finally  reached the amphitheatre, the feeble glow of  his
bicycle lamp showed him, even before he dismounted,  that the  ground around
it was  a mass of tyre tracks. He left his bicycle in the  grass and  ran to
the hole in the wall.
     'Momo!' He whispered the name at first, then spoke it aloud. 'Momo!' he
repeated.
     No answer.
     Beppo swallowed  hard, his throat felt so  dry. He  climbed through the
hole  into the pitch-black room,  stumbled over something, and wrenched  his
ankle. Striking a match with tremulous fingers, he peered in all directions.
     The crude  little  table  and chairs were overturned, the blankets  and
mattress stripped off the bed. Of Momo herself, there was no sign at all.
     Beppo bit his lip to stifle the hoarse sob that racked his chest at the
sight of this desolation. 'My God,' he muttered, 'I'm too late. She's gone -
they've spirited the poor girl away. What  shall I do  now? What can I  do?'
Just then the  match  began to burn his fingers, so he dropped  it and stood
there in the dark.
     Making his way outside as  fast as  his twisted ankle  would  allow, he
hobbled over to his bicycle, struggled back into the
     112
     saddle and pedalled off again. 'Guido must help,' he kept repeating, '-
he must! Pray heaven I can find him!'
     He knew that Guido planned to earn some extra money by  spending Sunday
nights in  the storeroom of a  car breaker's junkyard. Serviceable parts had
been disappearing of late, and it was Guide's job to see that this pilfering
ceased.
     When Beppo ran him to ground in a shed beside the junkyard and hammered
on the door with his fist, Guido at first mistook him for a would-be stealer
of spare  parts and  kept mum.  Then, recognizing  the old  man's  voice, he
unlocked the door.
     'What's the matter?' he grumbled.
     'It's Momo,' Beppo told him breathlessly. She's in danger.'
     'What are you talking about?' asked  Guido, flopping down  on his  camp
bed. 'Momo? Why, what's happened to her?'
     'I don't know, exactly,' Beppo panted, 'but it doesn't look good.'
     And he told Guido all he'd seen, from the trial on the garbage dump, to
the tyre  tracks  around  the amphitheatre, to Memo's ransacked and deserted
room. He took  quite  a while to get it all out, of course, because not even
the  concern and anxiety he felt  for  Momo could make him speak  any faster
than he usually did.
     'I knew it all along,' he concluded. 'I knew it would end  in disaster.
Well, now they've  taken their revenge - they've kidnapped her. We've got to
help her, Guido, but how. How?'
     The blood  had  slowly  drained  from  Guide's  cheeks while  Beppo was
speaking. He felt as if the ground had given way beneath him. Till now, he'd
regarded the whole  affair as  a splendid game and  taken it neither more or
less seriously than he took any game or story. Now, for the first time ever,
a story had  escaped his control. It had taken on a life of its own, and all
the imagination in the world would be insufficient to halt it. He felt numb.
     'You know, Beppo,' he said after a while, 'Momo may
     113
     simply have gone for a walk. She does that occasionally - like the time
she went roaming around the countryside for three  whole days and nights. We
may be worrying for no good reason.'
     'What  about the tyre tracks?' Beppo demanded angrily. 'What about  the
state of her room?'
     Guido refused to  be drawn.  'Suppose they really did come  looking for
her,' he said. 'Who's to say they found her? Perhaps she'd gone  by the time
they  got there. Why else would they have  searched the  place and turned it
upside down?'
     'But what if they did find her?' Beppo shouted. 'What then?' He gripped
his young  friend by the lapels and shook him. 'Don't be a fool, Guido.  The
men in grey are real, I tell you. We've got to do something, and fast!'
     'Steady   on,'  Guido  said  soothingly,  startled  by  the  old  man's
vehemence. 'Of course we'll  do something, but not  before we've thought  it
over carefully. After all, we don't even know where to look for her.'
     Beppo released him. 'I'm going to the police,' he announced.
     'You can't do that!' Guido protested with  a look of horror. 'Have some
sense, Beppo. Suppose they found her. Don't you know what they'd do with her
- don't you know where waifs and strays  end up? They'd stick her in a  home
with bars over the windows. You wouldn't want that, would you?'
     'No,'  Beppo muttered  helplessly,  'of course not. But  what if  she's
really in trouble?'
     'What  if she isn't?' Guido argued. 'What if she's only gone for a  bit
of a ramble and you  set  the police on  her? I wouldn't like to be  in your
shoes then. She might never want to see you again.'
     Beppo subsided on to a chair and buried his face in his hands. 'I  just
don't know what to do,' he groaned, 'I just don't know.'
     'Well,' said Guido, 'I vote we wait till tomorrow or the day
     114
     after before we do  anything  at  all.  If she  still isn't back, okay,
we'll  go to the police. My guess is, everything will have sorted itself out
long before then, and  the three of us  will  be laughing at the whole silly
business.'
     'You think so?' muttered  Beppo,  suddenly overcome  with fatigue.  The
day's excitements had been a bit too much for a man of his age.
     'Of course,' Guido assured him. He  eased Beppo's boots off and wrapped
his  sprained  ankle in a  damp cloth, then helped him  on to the camp  bed.
'Don't worry,' he said softly, 'everything's going to be fine.'
     But Beppo was already asleep. Sighing, Guido stretched out on the floor
with his  jacket  under  his head in place  of  a pillow. Sleep eluded  him,
though. He couldn't stop thinking about the men in grey, all night long, and
for the first time in his happy-go-lucky life he felt frightened.
     The  Timesaving Bank had launched a full-scale manhunt. Every agent  in
the  city  was  instructed  by  headquarters  to  drop everything  else  and
concentrate on finding the girl known as Momo.
     Every street teemed with grey figures. They lay in wait on rooftops and
lurked  in sewers,  staked out the  airport  and railway  stations, kept  an
unobtrusive watch on buses  and trams  -- in short, they  were everywhere at
once.
     But they still didn't find the girl known as Momo.
     'I say, Tortoise,' said Momo, as the pair of them made their way across
a darkened courtyard. 'Aren't you going to tell me where you're taking me?'
     Some letters took shape  on  the tortoise's  shell.  'DON'T ‚ ESCAPED,'
they read.
     'I'm not,' said Momo, when she'd  deciphered them,  though she said  it
more to  boost her courage  than anything else. Truth to  tell, she did feel
rather apprehensive. The tortoise's
     115
     route was  becoming  steadily more tortuous and erratic. It had already
taken  them  across parks, over bridges and through  subways, into buildings
and along corridors - even, once or twice, through cellars.
     Had Momo known  that  she was being  hunted  by  a whole army of men in
grey, she would probably have felt uneasier  still, but she  didn't,  so she
followed the tortoise patiently, step  by step, as it continued  to  meander
along.
     It was lucky  she did. Just as the creature had previously threaded its
way through traffic, so  it now seemed to know exactly where and  when their
pursuers would appear. There were times when  the men in grey reached a spot
only moments  after they themselves had  passed  it,  but hunters and hunted
never actually bumped into each other.
     'It's  a good  thing I've learned  to  read  so  well,'  Momo  remarked
casually, 'isn't it?'
     Instantly, the tortoise's shell flashed a warning: 'SSSH!'
     Momo couldn't understand the reason for this injunction, but she obeyed
it. Then she saw three dim, grey shapes flit past a few feet away.
     They had now  reached a  part of  the city where  each  building looked
drabber  and shabbier than the  last. Towering tenements with  peeling walls
flanked  streets  pitted  with  potholes full  of stagnant water.  The whole
neighbourhood was dark and deserted.
     At long last, word  reached the  headquarters of the  Time-saving  Bank
that Momo had been sighted.
     'Excellent,' said the duty officer. 'Have you taken her into custody?'
     'No, she  disappeared before we could  nab her  - she  seemed to vanish
from the face of the earth. We've lost track of her again.'
     'How did it happen?'
     'If only we knew! There's something fishy going on.'
     116
     'Where was she when you sighted her?'
     'That's the odd thing. She was in a part of the city completely unknown
to us.'
     'There's no such place,' said the duty officer.
     'There  must  be. It seems  to  be - how shall I put it? - right on the
very edge of time, and the girl was heading that way.'
     'What?' yelped the duty officer. 'After her  again! You've got to catch
her before she gets there - at all costs, is that clear?'
     'Understood, sir,' came the ashen-voiced answer.
     Momo might almost  have imagined that day was breaking, except that the
strange glow appeared so suddenly -- just as they turned  a  corner,  to  be
exact. It wasn't dark any more, nor was  it light, nor did the glow resemble
the half-light of dawn or dusk. It was a radiance that outlined every object
with  unnatural crispness and clarity, yet it seemed  to come from nowhere -
or  rather, from  everywhere at  once.  The  long,  black  shadows  cast  by
everything,  even the tiniest pebble,  ran in all directions as  if the tree
over there were lit  from the  left, the building over there from the right,
the monument over there from dead ahead.
     The monument, if that was what  it  was, looked weird enough in itself.
It consisted of a big  square block of black stone  surmounted by a gigantic
white egg, nothing more.
     The houses, too, were  unlike  any  Momo had ever seen,  with  dazzling
white walls and  windows cloaked in shadows  so  dark and dense that it  was
impossible to tell whether anyone lived inside. Somehow, though, Momo sensed
that  these houses hadn't  been built  for  people to  live in, but for some
mysterious and quite different purpose.
     The streets were completely empty,  not only  of people but of dogs and
cats  and birds  and cars. Not a  movement  or breath  of wind disturbed the
utter stillness. The whole district might have been encased in glass.
     117
     although the tortoise  was plodding along  more slowly than  ever, Momo
again found herself marvelling at their rate of progress.
     Beyond the borders of  this strange part  of  town, where  it was still
night-time, three smart grey limousines came racing down the potholed street
with headlights blazing. Each was manned by several agents, and one of them,
who was in the leading car, caught sight of Momo just as she turned into the
street with the white houses and the unearthly glow coming from it.
     When they reached the corner, however, something quite incomprehensible
happened: the convoy came to a sudden  stop.  The  drivers  stepped on their
accelerators.  Engines  roared  and  wheels  spun,  but the  cars themselves
refused  to  budge. They might have been  on a  conveyor belt  travelling at
exactly the  same speed  but  in  the opposite direction, and the  more they
accelerated the  faster  it went. By  the time the men  in  grey grasped the
truth, Momo was almost out of  sight.  Cursing, they jumped out and tried to
overtake her on  foot. They sprinted hard, grimacing with rage and exertion,
but much the same thing happened. When  they  were finally compelled to give
up, they had covered a mere ten yards. Meanwhile, Momo had disappeared among
the snow-white houses and was nowhere to be seen.
     'That's that,' said one  of the men in grey. 'It's  no use, we'll never
catch her now.'
     'Why  were  we rooted  to  the spot?' demanded another.  'I  just don't
understand it.'
     'Neither do  I,' said the first. 'The only question is, will they  take
that into our favour when we come back empty-handed?'
     'You mean they may put us on trial?'
     'Well, they certainly won't give us a pat on the back.'
     All the agents looked downcast. Perching on the wings and
     118
     bumpers of their grey limousines, they brooded on the price of failure.
There was no point in hurrying, not now.
     Far,  far  away  by  this time,  somewhere  in the  maze  of  deserted,
snow-white  streets  and  squares,  Momo  continued to follow  the tortoise.
Despite  their  leisurely  progress,  or  because  of  it, the  streets  and
buildings seemed  to flash past in a  white  blur.  The tortoise  turned yet
another   corner  and  Momo,  following  close  behind,  stopped"  short  in
amazement. The street ahead of them was unlike all the rest.
     It  was  really more  of  an alleyway  than a street.  The close-packed
buildings  on  either  side  were  a  mass  of  little turrets,  gables  and
balconies. They resembled dainty glass palaces which, after lying on the sea
bed since time  out of  mind, had suddenly risen  to the surface.  Draped in
seaweed and encrusted  with barnacles and  coral, they shimmered gently with
all the iridescent, rainbow hues of mother-of-pearl.
     The narrow street ended in a house  detached  from all the  others  and
standing  at  right  angles  to  them. Its big  bronze front door was richly
decorated with ornamental figures.
     Momo glanced up at the street sign immediately above her. It was a slab
of white marble and on it, in gold lettering, were the words 'NEVER LANE'.
     Although she  had taken  only a second  or two to  look at the sign and
read it, the tortoise was already far ahead and had almost reached the house
at the end of the lane.
     'Wait for  me. Tortoise!' she  called, but for some strange reason  she
couldn't hear her own voice.
     The tortoise seemed to have heard, though, because it paused and looked
around. Momo tried  to follow, but no sooner had she set off down Never Lane
than  a  curious  sensation gripped  her. She  felt  as if she were  toiling
upstream against a mighty torrent or battling with an inaudible tempest that
threatened to blow her backwards. Bent
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     almost  double, she braced  her  body  against  the  mysterious  force,
hauling herself along hand over hand or crawling on all fours.
     She could  just  make out  the little figure  of  the  tortoise waiting
patiently at the end of the lane. 'I'm getting nowhere!' she called at last.
'Help me, can't you?'
     Slowly the tortoise retraced its steps. When it came to a halt in front
of her, its shell bore the following advice:
     'WALK BACKWARDS.'
     Momo tried it.  She turned around and walked backwards, and all at once
she  was  progressing up the lane with the utmost  ease.  At the  same time,
something most peculiar happened  to her. While  walking  backwards, she was
also thinking, breathing and feeling backwards - living backwards, in fact.
     At length  she bumped into something solid. Turning, she found  she was
standing outside the last  house of all,  the one that stood at right angles
to the rest. She gave a little start because, seen at this range, the ornate
bronze door looked enormous.
     'I wonder if I'll ever get  it  open,' she  thought, but at that moment
the massive door swung open by itself.
     She paused again, distracted  by  the sight  of  another sign above the
door. This  one, which was supported by  the  figure of a  unicorn carved in
ivory, read: 'NOWHERE HOUSE'.
     Because she was  still rather  slow at reading, the  door had begun  to
close again by the time she'd finished. She slipped hurriedly inside, and it
shut behind her with a sound like muffled thunder.
     Momo  found  herself  in  a  long,  lofty  passage flanked  at  regular
intervals  by  marble statues whose  apparent function was  to  support  the
ceiling.  There was  no sign here of the mysterious current  that  prevailed
outside in  the lane. Momo followed the tortoise  as it waddled ahead of her
down the
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     long corridor. At the far end it stopped outside a little door
     just big enough for Momo to duck through.
     •WE'RE  THERE,' the tortoise's shell announced. There was a little sign
on the door. Kneeling down so that
     it was on a level with her nose, Momo read the inscription.
     'PROFESSOR SECUNDUS MINUTUS HORA', it
     said.
     She drew  a  deep breath  and  boldly lifted  the latch. As soon as the
little door opened, her ears were assailed by a melodious chorus of tinkling
and chiming and ticking and humming and whirring. She followed  the tortoise
inside, and the larch clicked into place behind them.
        ELEVEN
     The Conference
     Innumerable figures  were scurrying  around  the  headquarters  of  the
Timesaving Bank, a grey-lit  labyrinth of passages and corridors, passing on
the latest news in agitated whispers:
     every member  of  the directional board had been  summoned to attend an
extraordinary general meeting.
     Some surmised that this portended a dire emergency, others that new and
untapped sources of time had been discovered.
     The directors were already closeted in the  boardroom. They sat side by
side at  a  conference table so long  that it seemed to go on for ever, each
with his steel-grey  briefcase and small  grey cigar. They had removed their
bowler hats for the occasion, and every last one  of them had a bald head as
grey as the  rest  of him. Their mood, if  such bloodless creatures could be
said to have feelings at all, was universally dejected.
     The chairman rose from his place at the head of the long table. The hum
of  conversation died away, and two interminable  rows  of grey faces turned
towards him.
     'Gentlemen,'  he  began,  'the situation is  grave.  I  feel  bound  to
acquaint  you at  once with  the  unpalatable but  inescapable facts  of the
matter.
     'Every  available agent was assigned to hunt down  the girl named Momo.
This  operation  lasted  a total of six  hours,  thirteen  minutes and eight
seconds. While engaged on it, all the  said agents were inevitably compelled
to  neglect the true purpose of their existence,  namely, time-gathering. To
this loss of revenue must be added the time expended during the
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     manhunt by  our agents themselves. Accurate  computations disclose that
the sum of these two debit entries amounts  to three  billion, seven hundred
and thirty-eight million,  two hundred and fifty-nine thousand, one  hundred
and fourteen seconds.
     'That,  gentlemen, is more than a  whole human lifetime.  I need hardly
tell you what such a deficit means to us.'
     Here  he  pointed dramatically  to a huge steel  door,  bristling  with
combination locks and safety  devices, set in the wall at the far end of the
boardroom.
     'Our reserves of time are not inexhaustible, gentlemen,' he pursued  in
a louder voice. 'If the  manhunt had  paid off, well and good. As it is,  we
wasted time to no purpose. The girl eluded us.
     'There  must  be  no repetition  of  this  disastrous  affair. I  shall
strongly oppose any more such time-consuming  operations  from now on.  Time
must  be  saved, not squandered.  I would  therefore  urge you to frame your
future plans  accordingly.  That is all  I have to say, gentlemen. Thank you
for your attention.'
     He sat  down, blowing out a dense cloud of smoke. Agitated whispers ran
the length of the boardroom.
     Then, at the other end of the table, a second speaker rose to his feet.
Every head turned in his direction.
     'Gentlemen,' he said, 'we all have the interests of the Timesaving Bank
at heart. However,  I find it quite unnecessary for  us  to view this affair
with  alarm, still  less to regard it  as  a  catastrophe.  Nothing could be
further from the truth. We all know that our reserves of time are so immense
that our position would not be endangered, even by a loss many times greater
than the one we have just sustained. What is a human lifetime, after all? By
our standards, a mere pinprick.
     'I fully  agree with our chairman that  there must be no repetition  of
this incident. On the other hand, nothing like it
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     has  ever happened betore,  and the  chances of its happening again are
very remote.
     'The chairman was right to reproach us for allowing the girl to escape.
On  the other hand, our sole purpose was to render her harmless, and that we
have successfully done.  The creature has disappeared - she  has fled beyond
the  borders of time. We  are rid of her, in other words. Personally, I feel
we have every reason to congratulate ourselves.'
     The second speaker sat down with a complacent  smile. The smattering of
applause that greeted his remarks was cut  short when a third speaker  rose,
this time from a seat halfway along the great table.
     'I  shall be brief,' he said sourly. 'In my opinion, the last speaker's
soothing  words were thoroughly  irresponsible.  This  Œ®£«® is  no ordinary
child. We  all  know she  possesses powers  capable  of presenting a serious
threat to us  and  our  activities. The fact that no such incident  has ever
occurred before is no guarantee that it won't occur again. We must remain on
our guard. We must not rest content until the child is in our power, because
only then can  we be sure she  will never harm  us again. Having  managed to
leave the realm of time, she may re-enter it at any moment  -- and she will,
you mark my words!'
     He sat  down. The  other directors  winced and  bowed  their  heads  in
silence.
     'Gentlemen,' said a fourth  speaker,  who was sitting  across the table
from the third, 'pardon me  for being blunt, but we're dodging the issue. We
must face the fact that an alien power has  been  meddling in our  business.
After  carefully examining  every  aspect of the situation, I  find that the
odds against any creature  crossing the borders of time, alive  and unaided,
are  precisely  forty-two  million  to  one  In  other words,  it's  a  near
impossibility.'
     Another  buzz  of  agitation  ran  around  the  boardroom.  'Everything
suggests,' the fourth speaker continued, when
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     the murmurs had  subsided, 'that someone helped the  girl to  elude us.
You  all know  who I mean. The person in  question titles  himself Professor
®£ .'
     At the sound of this name, most of the men  in grey flinched as if they
had been struck. Others jumped to their feet, shouting and gesticulating.
     The fourth speaker raised his arms for silence. 'Gentlemen, gentlemen,'
he cried,  'a  little self-control, if  you please! I'm well aware  that any
mention of that name is - well, not quite proper. I  utter  it with  extreme
reluctance,  I assure you,  but we mustn't  blind ourselves to the facts. If
the girl received assistance from - from the Aforesaid, he must have had his
reasons, and those reasons cannot be other than detrimental to us. In short,
gentlemen, we must allow for the possibility that the Aforesaid may not only
send  the girl back but  arm her against us in some way. She  will then be a
mortal danger  to us. We must  therefore be prepared not merely to sacrifice
another human lifetime or lifetimes.  No, gentlemen, in  the last resort  we
must stake everything we possess - I  repeat, everything! -  because, if the
worst happens, thrift could spell our destruction. I think you know what I'm
getting at.'
     The directors' agitation mounted, and they all started talking at once.
A fifth speaker jumped on to his chair and waved his arms wildly.
     'Quiet!' he bellowed. 'It's all very well for  the last speaker to hint
at a  host of dire possibilities, but he  obviously doesn't know how to deal
with them himself. He says  we  must be prepared for any sacrifice: well and
good.  We  must  stop  at nothing:  well and  good.  We  mustn't  stint  our
resources: well and good. But  these are just empty words. Let  him  tell us
what practical steps to take. None  of us knows how the Aforesaid  will  arm
the girl against us.  We  shall be confronted by  a  wholly unknown  danger:
that's  the problem we have to solve!' The boardroom was in uproar now. Some
of the directors.
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     shouted  incoherently, others drummed  on  the table with their  fists,
others buried their  heads in  their hands. All were overcome  with panic. A
sixth speaker strove hard to make himself heard above the din.
     'Gentlemen, please!' he kept repeating in  a soothing voice until peace
was finally restored. 'I implore you  to take a calm and commonsense view of
this matter. Even assuming that the girl comes  back from the Aforesaid, and
even  assuming that he arms  her  against  us in  some way,  there  will  be
absolutely  no  need  for  us to do  battle  with her  ourselves.  We aren't
particularly well equipped for such a  confrontation, as the lamentable fate
of  our  late employee. Agent No. BLW/553/c, has  so amply demonstrated. But
that won't  be  necessary. We have  human accomplices in plenty,  gentlemen.
Provided  we make  discreet and skilful use  of  them,  we shall  be able to
dispose  of the girl  Momo and the threat she represents without ever having
to  intervene in  person. Such a method  of procedure would, I feel sure, be
not only economical but safe and highly effective.'
     A sigh of relief went up from the assembled throng. The directors found
this a  sensible suggestion and would probably have adopted  it on the  spot
had not the floor been claimed by someone seated near the head of the table.
     'Gentlemen,' he began, 'we keep  debating how  best to  get rid  of the
girl Momo.  Our  motive --  let's be honest --  is fear, but fear is  a  bad
counsellor.  I  feel   we're  missing   a  golden  opportunity  -  a  unique
opportunity. There's a saying: If you  can't beat 'em, join 'em.  Well,  why
shouldn't we persuade the girl to join MS? Why not get her on our side?'
     'Hear, hear!' cried a number of voices. 'Go on!'
     'It seems clear,'  the seventh  speaker continued, 'that this child has
found  her way to the Aforesaid. In other words, she got there via the route
that has eluded us  for so long. If  she can find it again, as  she probably
can, with ease, she can lead
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     us there. We  shall then be  able to deal with the Aforesaid in our own
way - very speedily, too, I feel sure.
     'Once  that is done,  we  need no longer toil at gathering  time by the
hour,  minute  and second  - no, gentlemen, because  we shall  have captured
mankind's whole store of time at  a stroke, and possessing the whole of time
means wielding absolute power. Just think, gentlemen: we shall have attained
our