Guards Guards - Communicate

The Librarian prodded the desk with a long, many-jointed finger.

“What?”

“Oook. ”

“Sorry?”

The Librarian rolled his eyes. It was strange, he felt, that so-called intelligent dogs, horses and dolphins never had any difficulty indicating to humans the vital news of the moment, e.g., that the three children were lost in the cave, or the train was about to take the line leading to the bridge that had been washed away or similar, while he, only a handful of chromosomes away from wearing a vest, found it difficult to persuade the average human to come in out of the rain. You just couldn't talk to some people.

“Oook!” he said, and beckoned.

“I can't leave the office,” said Carrot. “I've had Orders.”

The Librarian's upper lip rolled back like a blind.

“Is that a smile?” said Carrot. The Librarian shook his head.

“Someone hasn't committed a crime, have they?” said Carrot.

“Oook.”

“A bad crime?”

“Oook!”

“Like murder?”

“Eeek.”

“Worse than murder?”

“Eeek!” The Librarian knuckled over to the door and bounced up and down urgently.

Carrot gulped. Orders were orders, yes, but this was something else. The people in this city were capable of anything.

***

Guards Guards - p106-107