Un Lun Dun - China Mieville [22]
“Every morning it rises in a different place,” Jones said.
The UnSun glowed. Strange shapes flew around it, the air-dwellers of UnLondon. There were chimneys all over the abcity, but very few were venting smoke. A dark shape approached over the miles of sky.
“Conductor Jones,” Zanna said, and pointed at the incoming smudge. “What’s that?”
He pulled a telescope from his pocket and stared into it for a long time.
“It’s a grossbottle,” he muttered. “But why’s it so high? It should be down feeding on dead buildings…” Suddenly he yanked the telescope to its full extent. “Uh-oh,” he said. “Trouble.”
The shape was close enough to see clearly now. It raced towards them. It was at least the size of the bus. All the passengers were crowding the windows, alerted by the drone of its approach.
The grossbottle was a fly.
“It would never normally come for us,” Jones said. “But look—see the howdah?”
On the creature’s huge thorax was a platform full of figures. “It’s being driven,” he said. “Airwaymen. Thieves. But I don’t understand. They go for solo balloons, maybe deep-sky trawlers. They know buses are defended. Why risk it?
“Time to go to work.” He unhooked his bow from the cabinet. “Rosa,” he shouted. “Aerobatics!”
The grossbottle fly careered towards them. The airwaymen whipped it, prodded it with barbs, and readied weapons. Obaday and Skool were staring at it, aghast.
Deeba saw motion above her again. She nudged Zanna. There were two little moving presences, but they weren’t crabs. They were hands, poking through the ceiling, fingers scuttling, emerging from the metal—then they were gone.
Someone stood. Deeba looked down into the face of the bearded man. Alone among the passengers, he did not look afraid as the grossbottle came closer. He met Deeba’s eyes. Through a gap in the toga, she saw familiar paint stains.
Before she could speak he had leapt up and grabbed…Zanna.
“Help!” Zanna shouted. “Deebs! Obaday! Skool! Jones!”
Deeba was helplessly pointing at the man, and up at the ceiling.
“He heard us in the market!” Deeba said. “He must’ve run to Manifest Station. He was waiting for us. He sent a message to them.” She pointed in the direction of the oncoming fly. “And there’s someone upstairs, there is—”
“Shut it!” The man gripped Zanna by the neck. She struggled, but he was too strong. He held her in front of him like a shield.
Curdle launched itself at him, but he kicked the little carton away. The passengers huddled terrified. The man tightened his grip on Zanna.
“Nobody move!” he said.
14
Attack of the Manky Insect
The man swung Zanna from side to side. The passengers were frozen in their seats.
“Stay back,” he said. “My colleagues’ll be here in a moment. I don’t want any trouble. We’ll take her with us and let the rest of you go. You know you can’t outfly a grossbottle, and you don’t want my associates joining us.”
“Airwaymen mercenaries?” Jones said, stepping forward. “No, I suspect we don’t.”
“You stay back!” the man said, and drew a sword with his free hand. Deeba screamed.
“Who you working for?” Jones said. “What do you want with her?”
“Shut up!” the man said, and yanked Zanna.
“Leave it!” Deeba said. “You’re making him angry!”
The man held Zanna by the throat. Jones faced him, his hands half-out, but he looked at the sword and held back. Obaday was huddling behind Zanna’s attacker, his head down, too terrified to move. The grossbottle was coming closer.
Suddenly, there was a grunt of effort, and something dropped from the ceiling. A body. A pale boy. The boy from the market. Stark naked. He fell out of nowhere, landed with a smack right in front of Zanna and the bearded man. The man yelped and staggered away—and backed his bum directly onto Obaday Fing’s pincushion head.
It was the blunt ends of the needles that jammed into his posterior, but they were still easily sharp enough. The big man leapt and shrieked, loosed his grip on Zanna, and swung his weapon.
Everyone moved. The boy gasped, reached for Zanna, missed, ducked, and dropped out of sight. Deeba