Un Lun Dun - China Mieville [136]
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,