Un Lun Dun - China Mieville [68]
There was silence for several seconds. In that quiet, Deeba could just hear a faint tireless whispering.
What is that? she mouthed at Hemi.
“It’s the sound of the Smog,” he murmured. They were hearing it coil and unfold, a few streets away.
A voice emerged from the shadows.
“I’m here.”
Deeba and Hemi jumped. Deeba dropped her bag.
“Mr. Murgatroyd,” the unseen speaker said. “I got your message. You told me to come alone: I’m here. You told me not to tell a soul. You specifically told me not to tell my partner. I don’t like deceit, Mr. Murgatroyd, but I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. Now, prove to me that I should have done.”
Mr. Brokkenbroll stalked into view.
“Deeba Resham.” He nodded to Deeba and Hemi. “Young man.”
“The Unbrellissimo,” Hemi muttered. “Wow.”
Curdle scampered behind Deeba’s feet and cowered as Brokkenbroll approached, his trench coat sweeping. Behind him came a billow of fabric and the skritch of thin metal as his entourage of broken umbrellas fidgeted in the shadow.
Brokkenbroll folded his arms. “I’m glad to see you again. Is everything alright? Is your friend, the Shwazzy…did it not work?”
“No, no, she’s fine,” Deeba said. “It worked brilliantly. Thanks so much. That’s not why I’m here.”
Brokkenbroll raised an eyebrow.
“I’m glad she’s well,” he said. “But I’m mystified. And as you can understand—a little busy. The fight we find ourselves in has been difficult. So forgive me if I keep this brief.”
“You see, Deeba?” Mr. Murgatroyd said. “You understand why we’re here. It’s the Unbrellissimo who’s being used by this…imposter…worse than any of us. We don’t yet know why. But he has the right to know what’s going on. And, more than any of us, he might be able to do something about it.”
“Mr. Brokkenbroll,” Deeba said. She took the sheet of Wraithtown paper from her bag, and held it out to him. “You should see this.”
He fiddled with it for some seconds, squinting past the fluttering specter-fonts. As he made out what it said, Deeba saw his face grow hard under the brim of his hat.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what he’s doing, and I don’t know why. I don’t know who he is. But the man who says he’s Unstible, isn’t. He can’t be, see? Plus I don’t know what it is he’s giving your unbrellas. I was thinking…maybe it’s like poison, slow-acting, and they’re going to get sick or something? I mean I know it works at the moment, but you don’t know what it’ll do in a few weeks.”
Brokkenbroll said nothing. Deeba grew nervous.
“I mean, it might even be that whatever he wants to do isn’t even bad,” she gabbled. “But, it’s just…it probably isn’t great, because, I mean, why’d he lie? I don’t see why he’d tell everyone he’s Unstible when…he…isn’t…”
Her voice petered out. Still Brokkenbroll was silent. He read and reread the paper.
“So…” said Hemi. He and Deeba shared a glance.
“So,” Deeba said. “What should we do? Because, I mean I haven’t been here long, but it don’t look to me like it’s going that well. And if you can think of something to do…”
“Why did you come?” Brokkenbroll said at last. “Why would you make that journey?”
There was a long silence.
“I was worried,” Deeba said. Her voice grew quieter and quieter. “I found out something was weird, and I couldn’t…I just…I wanted to make sure UnLondon was okay.”
“You did the right thing,” Brokkenbroll said eventually. “I don’t like being made a fool of.”
“You can see why I called this meeting,” Murgatroyd said. “Why the minister insisted on getting to the bottom of this.”
“I need to know everything,” the Unbrellissimo said urgently, leaning suddenly down towards Deeba and making her jump. “I need to know what you know, how you worked it out, how you got hold of this.” He waved the printout, leaving a brief trail of spirit-paper.
“If we’re going to turn the tables I have to know exactly where we stand. We may not have much time.”
Deeba told him everything. How she had been curious, and researched the Armets, and found the RMetS, and