Un Lun Dun - China Mieville [77]
With a start, Deeba realized that the streets at the end of the bridge were unclear. They flickered between several configurations. She kept going.
“What’s happening?” Hemi shouted.
“I dunno,” said Deeba. “Just run!”
They were only a few feet from the end of the bridge, and the streets ahead were changing so fast they were a blur of architecture. The bridge was strobing between destinations.
“No!” shouted Mortar. “Stop it! There are too many!”
Deeba glanced over her shoulder. The general of the broken umbrellas was only a few paces behind, his unbrella hordes bearing down. He caught Deeba’s eye. An unbrella lurched out and snagged her rear pocket, and with a little cry Deeba pulled free, ripping her trousers.
“Come on!” Deeba sped straight at the rush of images. “Together!” She tucked the book under her arm, grabbed Hemi’s hand and held tight to Curdle. Hemi cried out, the book wailed, and they leapt off the end of the bridge—
54
Crossroads
—and tumbled onto tarmac in sudden silence.
Deeba rolled over frantically and threw up her hands. But nothing was coming. There was no bridge behind them.
They were lying in a wide road, in the late afternoon of UnLondon. They were quite alone.
“Oh now you’ve done it, now you’ve really done it,” the book moaned.
“What happened?” Hemi shouted. “Where are we?”
“There were lots of Propheseers,” the book sighed. “All trying to control the bridge. They each wanted to end it in a different part of UnLondon, where they thought it would be easier to catch you.”
“The bridge got confused?” Deeba said.
“It was trying to go everywhere at once. It’s only because you were all together that you ended up in the same place. It must have gone elsewhere instantly.”
“Brokkenbroll…” said Hemi. “He was right behind us.”
“By the time he got off the bridge it ended somewhere else,” Deeba said. She stood up slowly and looked around her. “So where are we?”
They were at a crossroads. No landmarks were visible. They were surrounded by nondescript houses, without even any moil buildings or strangely shaped dwellings evident. If it weren’t for the UnSun, it could be a scene from London.
“We could be anywhere,” the book muttered.
“We’ve got to do something,” said Deeba urgently. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“They think I did it,” said Hemi. “The Prophs. They’re going to be after me.”
“They was just being stupid,” said Deeba. “Brokkenbroll knew what to say to stop them listening for a moment. That’s all he needed. You know, though, don’t you?” she said to the book. “I could tell. You believe us.”
There was a pause.
“I’m not sure,” the book said. “I don’t know what happened.”
“It was that paper. You could tell, couldn’t you? You know we’re right.”
“All I know is that paper’s from Wraithtown,” the book said. “That’s all. I don’t know anything about the rest of that stuff.”
“Yeah, but,” Deeba said, “I can tell. You believe me.”
“I’m not saying that,” the book said guardedly. “We need to get back to the Pons Absconditus and talk it over with Mortar.”
“Maybe,” said Deeba. “Maybe I shouldn’t have run. I was panicking. It was the Propheseers got me home last time…But…” She looked around, stricken.
“But you can’t go back now,” Hemi said. “They think we’re the ones who need stopping. Even if they don’t know it…they’re working with…that Unstible-thing. The one trying to get you.” He and Deeba stared at each other.
“Book!” said Deeba desperately. “You do know, don’t you? You did believe me.”
“You had no right to take me,” it replied. “This is booknapping!”
“Don’t change the subject. Tell me straight. You know something funny’s going on.”
There was a pause.
“Some of what you say…would explain some things,” the book said. “Maybe. At least…I think we need to do a bit more investigating. Something odd’s going on. That’s true. And Brokkenbroll’s story doesn’t make much sense. I don’t see why you’d be attacking the rest of us, young man. Besides, I don’t know how you could’ve got the wrong idea, Deeba, like Brokkenbroll said. You’re not the type. Something funny’s going on.”
Deeba sighed