Nibs Wirewhistle's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Nibs stared at the empty crate under his desk. The cable-eating goblins had done their work on the outer lines, then squeezed through a vent and vanished into the walls. He could hear them now, faint chewing behind the plaster, moving toward the records hall. If Mrs. Fentwick heard that sound before he got them out, the fur tufts on his sleeves would be the least of his problems. He had maybe twenty minutes before the morning shift arrived. He pulled a folded floor plan from the drawer and spread it on the switchboard. A security display on the far wall traced movement through the exchange in thin colored lines, and three bright dots crawled through the wall cavity above the corridor. He matched the dots to the plan. The goblins were heading straight for the records hall, where a huge council billboard hung outside Mrs. Fentwick's door. The billboard showed her curly grey hair and hard pink face, lit from above, impossible to walk past without feeling watched. Nibs felt watched now, and she wasn't even in the room. He grabbed the laser pointer from the lost-and-found tin and ran. In the corridor he clicked it on, aimed the red dot at the baseboard, and jiggled it. The chewing stopped. He dragged the dot along the wall, back toward his station. A small thump followed inside the plaster. Then another. He kept the dot moving, slow enough to chase, fast enough to tease. He passed under the billboard without looking up. Halfway down the corridor a door creaked. Mrs. Fentwick's voice called out, asking who was there. Nibs froze, then flicked the dot hard around the corner. The thumps rushed after it. He heard her footsteps stop, then turn back into her office. He led the goblins the whole way to the open vent above his desk. One by one they dropped out of the wall, snapping at the red dot until he steered it into the crate. He slammed the lid and sat on it. His hands shook. The chewing was gone. The walls were quiet. He had pulled it off. Then he looked up at the security display and saw a fresh trail glowing on the screen, a bright line running from the records hall to his station, recorded and saved. Whoever checked the panel next would see exactly where the intruders had gone, and exactly who had been waiting at the other end.