Un Lun Dun (45 page)

88

The Baleful View

Deeba crept up the stairs, the UnGun raised. Lectern came hesitantly behind her, carrying the book. Curdle jumped energetically from step to step.

“Come on,” the book whispered to Lectern. “Keep up, keep up.”

After several twisting flights, they reached the top. At the end of the hallway was a door, from above and below which Smog oozed.

“We better be fast,” Lectern said. “This Smog’s going to sense us any minute.”

The corridor shimmered in the vivid colors of night. One whole wall of the passageway was windowed.

“Look at that,” breathed Lectern.

They stared out onto UnLondon at war.

There was the streetlamp glow, rising where the inhabited boroughs were, and between them the coiling dark of smogmires. But that night, UnLondon was also flickering in the illumination of many fires. There were the flashes of combustion, and the glowing beams of flashlights from the streets, from the dark cut of the river, where they danced with their reflections, and coming down from the sky, from aircraft and other flying things, racing in all directions.

“It’s kicked off,” said Deeba. “It really has.”

She could hear the sounds of battle.

“Look,” she said.

Below the rising and falling roofscape of the floors below them, they could see the factory forecourt. It was full of a huge fight. Behind the walls and thrown-up barricades, and on roofs to either side, battalions of smombies threw missiles. Stink-junkies pumped smoke and fire.

The attackers, just beyond the entrance, were the UnLondoner troops that had gathered with Deeba by the river.

They fired weapons and swung grappling hooks over the walls. Many wielded big fans, and swung them like axes at the Smog as it approached, blowing its smaller clots away. The dirty smoke scattered, gathered again at the edges of the yard, and re-formed for counterattacks.

“Un Lun Dun!” Deeba heard the rebels shout. “Un Lun Dun!”

“There are more of us than there were by the river,” Deeba said. “People are joining.”

“But most UnLondoners still think Unstible’s on their side, don’t they?” Lectern said.

“Maybe not, not round here. As soon as they see he’s using smombies and that, they’ll know he’s with the Smog. In fact…”

“In fact word of that’ll spread,” the book finished. “And Unstible must know it. So it’s decided, whatever it’s going to do…tonight’s its last chance.”

“But
that wasn’t their plan.
” Deeba frowned. “The whole thing I heard them talk about…it was all about how people would think Unstible and Brokkenbroll
were
on their side, and that’s why they’d do what they were told. Why’s he giving it away?”

“Maybe they’re desperate,” the book said uncertainly.

“Look,” said Lectern. She pointed.

Among the vessels, birds, bats, grossbottles, and smogglers racing through the sky was a cluster of shadows. It was flying in a strange way. It was a dense mass surrounded by outriders. It careered towards them as chaotic and lurching as a crowd of moths, coming at tremendous speed.

“What is that?” whispered Lectern.

Specks flew up from the city as the mass approached, and joined it, and others dropped away from it and torpedoed into the streets. Deeba saw one of them fold its wings and fall like a crooked, hook-ended missile.

“Uh-oh,” she said, and stepped back from the window. “It’s the unbrellas.”

In the unbrella flock’s dark center, something dangled like an ugly fruit.

“Brokkenbroll,” Deeba breathed.

The Unbrellissimo was holding on to one of the unbrella’s handles, hanging below it as it opened and closed. He swung and reached with his other hand, grabbed another of the unbrellas. Again and again, he moved like someone on monkey bars, hand-to-hand, as if clambering his way through the sky. The unbrellas carried him each in turn.

The swarm swept into the factory’s yard. They spread out among the fight. Then to Deeba’s surprise they each flipped around, hovering in front of every woman or man, offering their handles.

“Friends!” Brokkenbroll shouted over the noise of the battle, dangling like a lunatic Mary Poppins. “It seems, uh, the Smog’s forces must have managed to get into Unstible’s factory. I’ll make sure he’s unharmed. It’s heroic of you to rush to his defense like this. I’ll check on him. In the meantime, I notice that none of you have unbrellas. The Smog’s attacking all over! Please, take them! They’ll protect you!”

Some of the rebels looked at each other in confusion. A few reached hesitantly and took the unbrellas flapping in the air before them. But even as Deeba began to hammer on the window and shake her head, she saw people smacking the unbrellas out of their comrades’ hands.

“Are you mad?” Deeba heard one say.

“We know what you’re about,” shouted another. “Enough of your lies! Un Lun Dun!” He hurled a half-brick, and Brokkenbroll had to sway out of the missile’s path.

The Unbrellissimo’s face lost its expression of anxious concern. A look of rage replaced it. He bared his teeth and growled.

“That
girl
!” he shouted. He swept his free arm, and his unbrellas attacked. They reared and clubbed at the UnLondoner troops, joining the smombies and stink-junkies.

The Unbrellissimo rose to overlook the scene, and very suddenly, he was at the level of the window, looking straight at Deeba.

“Uh-oh,” she said, and moved back from the glass. It was too late.

Brokkenbroll opened his mouth, and pointed at her.

His unbrellas hauled him, hand over hand, straight for her. His coat flapped. He loomed.

Like bugs on a windshield, unbrellas hurled themselves at the windows, cracking and bursting the panes.

“Come on!” said Deeba. Lectern couldn’t take her eyes off the oncoming Unbrellissimo. She would have dropped the book on the ground if Deeba hadn’t caught it.

“I said come
on
!” said Deeba. She grabbed the book under one arm, tucked the UnGun in her trousers, and pulled Lectern along. Deeba dragged her down the passageway towards the Smoggy door. Curdle scampered after them.

Eddies of Smog tangled around Deeba’s feet. They were thick enough to feel like cotton wool. She stumbled.

It didn’t make any difference. There was no way she could have crossed the distance before Brokkenbroll arrived.

89

The Vengeful Man

With a dreadful crash, the Unbrellissimo kicked through a window ahead of Deeba and Lectern. He landed in a crouch, his coat billowing about him. The air around him was thick with unbrellas, and the incessant
click-click
as they flew.

Brokkenbroll stood, and glowered.

“Congratulations, Deeba Resham,” he whispered. “You’ve managed to turn yourself into rather a pain. And now I learn you’ve poisoned I-don’t-know-how-many UnLondoners against me.”

Deeba, Lectern, and Curdle backed down the hall. Brokkenbroll made a hand motion, and unbrellas swept by them and opened, blocking their retreat. Only Curdle was small enough to squeeze through. Deeba heard it bounce off down the hall.

“I have worked, and worked, and worked at this,” Brokkenbroll said. “Didn’t I help? Didn’t I persuade my associate to leave your friend alone? There was
no reason
for you to come back.
Everyone was happy.
”

“Everyone except all the UnLondoners,” said Deeba.

“They’d have been fine! Holding out against an enemy! Under my careful guidance! Everyone happy!”

“You was lying just to take control!”

Brokkenbroll made
yak-yak-yak-you-talk-too-much
with his hands.

“I tried to treat you right,” he said. “But you threw it back in my face. You are so ungrateful.” He raised an unbrella high.

“Brokkenbroll, listen,” said Deeba desperately. “The Smog’s
your
enemy too.”

He paused.

“What nonsense are you on about?” he said.

“Think about it!” Deeba felt the canopies of the unbrellas, some torn, some with metal poking through, pressed against her back. She pointed at the window. “Why’s it showing its troops? That tells everyone Unstible’s not on their side! They’ll know not to trust him, and that means not to trust
you.
The Smog’s sabotaging your plans!”

Brokkenbroll stared at her. For a second, Deeba saw his doubt in his eyes.

“You…
bad girl
!” he said. “I don’t know how all this mess started, or what’s been spreading such malicious thought in the abcity. But blaming my partner…you really are a disgrace.”

He raised his unbrella again. Deeba reached for her UnGun.

It wasn’t there.

Deeba panicked so hard she dropped the book. “Ow!” it said as it landed.

Deeba patted her waistband frantically, rummaged in her pockets.

Lectern was holding the UnGun. She must have taken it from Deeba’s waistband. She was aiming it at Brokkenbroll.

He hesitated, staring at it.

“That’s right,” said Deeba. “We’ve got you covered. Don’t move. Well done, Lectern. Now give me it.”

The Propheseer looked at her with wide, dazed eyes, then down at the big pistol. Her mouth opened and closed. Brokkenbroll looked at her.

“Do you want to live?” he said. “You know you haven’t got a chance. Give me that now and I won’t kill you.”

“Shut up!” said Deeba. “You don’t scare us!”

Lectern stepped forward.

“Yes, he does,” she said. She turned the UnGun around and offered it, handle-first, to the Unbrellissimo.

“Are you crazy?”
screamed Deeba, and leapt forward to try to grab it. She was too late. Brokkenbroll had it in his hand.

“There’s only one bullet left,” Lectern said. She was speaking very quickly. “I heard her talking about it. They know the Smog’s scared of it, but she’s only got one last shot. Her friends are downstairs. They beat the Hex with some utterlings. She doesn’t know exactly what she wants to do. She’s following the smell of the Smog…”

Her voice petered out. Deeba stared at her, speechless with outrage.

“Sorry Deeba,” said Lectern. She stood next to Brokkenbroll, and nodded her head in his direction. “But look at him. We haven’t got a hope. I don’t want to die.”

Deeba lurched forward to grab her; but Brokkenbroll made a tiny motion, and unbrella handles grabbed Deeba from behind, held her still.

“Excellent choice, Propheseer,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do in the new government. One shot left, you say? Do be quiet, Miss Resham.”

An unbrella clamped into her mouth. Brokkenbroll examined the UnGun curiously while Deeba struggled in the unbrellas’ grasp.

“I don’t have to listen to your unpleasant, troublemaking lies,” Brokkenbroll said. “I will have a little word with my partner, however. I’ll clarify exactly what has gone wrong, and what we can do about it. Nothing is unfixable.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, looking decidedly wild for a moment. “But first—I’m not going to let you get in my way again.

“It might surprise you to hear that I can be extremely insecure. Particularly when someone seems intent on undermining my plans. Out of
pure malice.
” He shook his head and looked wounded. “Well, since we had our last little altercation, I’ve kept something with me. To remind me that no matter how much trouble you’ve managed to make yourself, I still win.”

He beckoned. From behind Deeba’s back, one of the broken umbrellas came dancing forward. It was red, with a design of crawling lizards. Its canopy was torn, and flapped along the rip.

“Ass
ngine,
” Deeba said through her gag.

“It is indeed yours,” Brokkenbroll said. “Or, it was. One split, and it was mine. Do you want to see how
very
mine?”

He made a little motion. He turned and walked towards the door.

What had once been Deeba’s umbrella leapt up, put its handle around her neck, and began to squeeze.

Deeba couldn’t breathe.