Un Lun Dun - China Mieville [87]
“STOP!” shouted Mr. Speaker, and spat out one last enormous utterling, a bewildered three-legged blob, but then the renegade words swarmed him. They clambered over Mr. Speaker’s body, and he flailed his weak arms and legs, trying and failing to bat them away.
Something like a long saggy hat wrapped a tentacle around his mouth, and others held him down. Mr. Speaker squashed down in his throne, and struggled and mmmmmed and tried to look fierce with only his eyes.
It was no good. His obedient utterlings had scattered. His words had revolted.
“What d’you reckon they’ll do?” Hemi said.
“Dunno,” Deeba said.
It was dawn. Awhile after the utterlings had subdued their speaker, they had ceremoniously ushered Deeba and her companions to sleeping quarters and given them supper, all with immense exaggerated bows. The travelers had slept, and woken refreshed, and Deeba was eager to get going.
They were escorted by a gaggle of the silently squabbling utterlings that were attempting to organize things. The utterlings showed them out with pomp and politeness.
“Might not last,” the book muttered. “The smaller ones’ll ebb and disappear before long. Mr. Speaker’ll be trying to whisper new ones all the time, and he’ll try to talk more loyal ones into existence. And there must be some who want to get back to obeying him, waiting for the right moment…”
“God, don’t you ever stop moaning?” snapped Deeba. “Miserable git.” She could see Mr. Speaker, still trapped and gagged in his chair. “Give them a chance.”
The utterlings made Where? motions.
“Where are we going?” said Deeba, stroking Curdle.
“That way,” Hemi said, pointing into the streets.
“We’re looking for a forest,” Deeba said. “We have to find something. Quickly. In fact…” She looked at the utterlings. They were small, but strong, and inquisitive. “In fact, do any of you want to come with us?”
“What?” said the book.
“Why not? The more the better.”
The utterlings looked at her and at each other. After a few seconds, the majority, with ostentatious mimes of Thanks and Regret for not being able to accompany you, went back to the rest of their silently squabbling kind. But three came to stand with the travelers.
One was the silver-furred locust; one was the bear with a pair of legs too many; and one was the four-armed four-legged several-eyed little man. They looked at Deeba and Hemi shyly.
“That’s brilliant!” said Deeba. “Cool. Let me see if I remember…” She pointed at the bear. “You’re Diss,” she said. It nodded and reared on its hind four legs. It had no mouth, but Deeba knew it was smiling.
“And you…” She pointed at the locust. “You’re Bling.” The arm-sized insect fluffed up its silver coat.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you are,” she said to the many-limbed man. “You got spoke before I got here. What are you?” The man sketched shapes in the air.
Deeba shook her head. “What is it…? Paraffin? Paintbrush? Purpose?”
The utterling shook its mouthless head.
“Redcurrant?” said Hemi. “Blackjack?” No, it mimed.
“Quiddity?” said the book. “Sesquipedalian? Oh this is ridiculous. We’re never going to guess like this. Out of all the words in the whole language, how—”
“Cauldron,” Deeba said, looking at the utterling with her head on one side. It jumped up and down and nodded and threw up its four arms and spun in a jig.
Hemi stared at Deeba in openmouthed delight.
“How could you possibly tell?” the book said.
“I dunno.” Deeba shrugged airily. “Doesn’t it look like the word cauldron to you?”
They set off under the early light of the UnSun, leaving the utterlings to bicker and bargain with each other and chaotically start to make decisions. Deeba, Hemi, Curdle, and the book walked out of the Talklands to look for a forest in a house, accompanied by the words Cauldron, Diss, and Bling.
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