Un Lun Dun - China Mieville [34]
“We’ve been fighting it awhile now,” Mortar went on. “Since we understood. With vacuums, and extinguishers, and everything we can find. But then about a year ago, it suddenly stopped attacking.”
“Isn’t that good?” Deeba said.
“No, ’cause it’s waiting for something,” Lectern said. “It’s planning something.”
“And this we know because?” the book said expectantly.
“Because it’s in the book?” Zanna said.
The book said “Bing!”
“Sometimes the words are riddles,” Lectern said. “But there’s not much controversy over ‘The choker will rest, then rise, and fire, and grow, and return.’”
“Who was the man on the bus?” said Zanna.
“Someone who thinks it’ll help him,” Lectern said. “But there are heroes, too. For every one like him, there’s someone like Unstible.”
“We heard that name before,” Deeba said.
“Who’s Unstible?” Zanna said.
“Our greatest mind,” said Mortar. “Benjamin Hue Unstible. Propheseer. Also inventor, scientist, explorer, statesman, artist, banker, furniture designer, and cook. You see, you have to remember we know very little about London’s secret war with the Smog. Unstible researched and researched, all the stories he could find, about the Armets and their secret weapon, and about the Smog itself. He knew more about it than anyone else, ever. In the end, he decided that our best chance to defeat it was to know how it had been beaten before.
“He was sure the Smog would move against us. So he decided to find the Armets.
“That’s why he crossed over, to search. More than two years ago. We haven’t heard a word from him since.” Mortar looked forlorn. “Hopefully we’ll hear from him…any day now.”
“And he was right, too,” Lectern said. “The Smog is attacking again. And now we know what it’s been waiting for.”
“It’s been waiting for you, Shwazzy,” Mortar said.
“We knew it was approaching your time,” the book said. “Word’s been spreading. We heard your face had appeared in the clouds over London. That was the first sign.”
Zanna looked at Deeba.
“Told you,” Deeba muttered.
“Seven-oh-one,” the book said. Lectern turned pages. “‘One shall come from that other place. She shall be called the Shwazzy. To her alone it is given to save UnLondon.’ The Smog’s heard the prophecy. ‘She shall prevail in her first encounter, and again in her last.’ It knows you’re its enemy. And it wants you gone. That’s why its forces are emerging at last. It’ll attack you as soon as it can.”
“Actually,” said Zanna, “it already has. In London.”
“But we didn’t know what it was,” said Deeba.
“It found you there?” gasped Lectern. “Oh, you poor thing.”
There was a long silence.
“Look,” Deeba said reasonably. “This is all…y’know, important and that. But you still haven’t told us how to get out of here—”
“Wait a minute,” Zanna interrupted her. “This is stupid. Why did Unstible go?” She stared at Mortar and Lectern.
“I mean…I’m supposed to defeat the Smog, right?” she demanded. “The prophecy says. It’s…mad, but just say for a moment, right? So why did Unstible go looking for the Armets? What was he worried about if I’m going to take care of it? It’s not his job.”
Mortar and Lectern looked at each other uneasily.
“He…always had certain ideas, about what was written,” Mortar said. “He said he wanted to be sure. ‘It’s given to her to save us,’ he used to say. ‘That doesn’t mean she’ll take it. I’ll go see what I can do.’”
“So…” said Zanna, “he disappeared ’cause he was trying to help me?”
23
The Meaning of the Trail
“What happened to Jones and the others?” Deeba said. “The ones who sent the message to you?”
“I’ve given orders to the binja to let them in if they reach us,” Mortar said, looking at Zanna. “Conductors can take care of themselves. And their passengers. Shwazzy, are you…”
“This is crazy,” Zanna said. “I’m just a girl. How’s a Shwazzy get chosen anyway? Why’s it a girl? Why not a local? How d’you even know I’m it? None of it makes sense.”
“That’s how prophecies work,” Mortar said gently. “They’re not about what makes sense; they’re about what will be. That’s how