Un Lun Dun

49. Trussed

Deeba woke to voices.

“…was that? Not too much?”

“No, it was very good. ‘We don’t have time to waste!’ I liked that.” She heard laughter.

It was Brokkenbroll and Murgatroyd. Cautiously, Deeba opened her eyes a crack, but saw nothing. For a moment she thought it was night: then she realized that she was wearing a blindfold. She shook herself experimentally. She could not move.

“Deeba!” It was Hemi, speaking right behind her.

“Hemi,” she whispered. “Where are you? I think I’m tied up.”

“You are,” he said. “You’re tied to me.”

Now she could feel his spine against hers, his slight wriggles. They were tied back-to-back, sitting on the cold pavement.

“Murgatroyd grabbed me,” Hemi whispered. “While the unbrella man grabbed you. I can’t believe what you got me into!”

Deeba’s heart was racing. For a moment she thought she was afraid. Then she realized that she was, not surprisingly, but that more than that, she was furious.

“They tricked me,” she hissed, struggling hard and ineffectually. “Brokkenbroll’s in on it. They must’ve been trying to find out what we know. I’m such an idiot. Oh man. What are they going to do? Have you heard anything?”

“No. Just that they’ll find out quickly— I don’t know what they’ll find out— and Murgatroyd said he was on a schedule, and that people were counting on him. Hush a minute, I’m trying to…”

Something tugged at Deeba’s face. She stifled a scream, then wrinkled her nose at a sudden smell of off milk.

“Curdle?” she said. Curdle clamped her blindfold in its opening and tugged, pulling it down and uncovering her eyes. “Good carton,” she whispered. It shook enthusiastically and rolled onto her lap.

Brokkenbroll and Murgatroyd were talking, by the wall. They were lit by the dancing orange of a fire that Deeba could hear behind her. She thought she heard another sound, too. Very faintly, the padding of footsteps. They circled a little way away.

“Can you hear that?” she whispered. “Who’s by the fire?”

“I can’t see squat,” muttered Hemi. “I’m blindfolded.”

Curdle gnawed at the ropes fastened around them, but its cardboard flaps made no impact at all.

“We got to get out of here,” Deeba said. “We got to warn the Propheseers. We got to warn everyone. Whatever that fake Unstible’s doing, this lot are in on it.”

“Hello,” said a voice. Brokkenbroll and Murgatroyd had seen her, and were walking over. Curdle froze, lay hidden between Deeba and Hemi.

“How did you get your blindfold off?” Brokkenbroll continued. “You’re awake. That’s excellent. There are some things we need to ask you.”

“Who have you told?”

“I already said,” Deeba said. “No one.”

“Maybe I should go back to the market,” Murgatroyd said. “Have a word with that tailor.”

“Not a bad thought,” Brokkenbroll said.

“Leave him alone!” said Deeba. “I already told you, he didn’t believe me.”

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” Brokkenbroll said. “You see, the thing is, in not very long at all, it won’t make any difference. The unbrellas are still coming through every day, and those fools are lining up like baby birds to take them from me. Within a few weeks, everyone’ll have one, and by then whatever you know or think you know and whatever anyone believes or doesn’t won’t make an iota of difference. But I dislike being preempted. As do my associates. So we’re keen to make sure that nothing complicates matters.”

Deeba stared at Brokkenbroll furiously and resolved not to say a word to him. He raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” he said. “That particular expression you’re wearing is almost alarming. I’d be intimidated. If I weren’t, you know, incomparably more powerful than you.”

He snarled the last words, suddenly lunging at her. Deeba could not help but jump, which enraged her even more.

“It’s so foolish,” Brokkenbroll said. “This whole thing was unnecessary. I did you so many favors!” He sounded seriously aggrieved.

“It was me who convinced my associate that it would be in our interests to let your friend, the bloody Shwazzy, go. I persuaded it to leave her. Went to some trouble to put on that little performance for you. Did you both a favor! At some effort, I might add. Made sure that little smoggler took all her memories with it, when it left, so there’d be no need for her— or you— to worry about UnLondon anymore. We took her completely out of the picture. I really don’t see the point in doing away with people if you don’t have to.

“Besides, as I said to my partner— who believe me took some convincing, and who expended quite some effort on checking that everything was safe— everyone should have benefited. You got your friend back, uninterested in dangerous topics anymore. Your friend got to live. You get to feel good about having helped save her— so don’t say I didn’t give you anything. And I got to impress the idiots around me with my powers over the nasty smoke, so they put their trust in me. Which in turn benefits my partner. You were supposed to be out of the picture, and perfectly happy. You never, ever would have had to bother us, or we you.

“Now why, after I go to all that trouble to sort all that out for everyone, did you have to ignore it all and come back? You had absolutely no need.”

There was a silence. Deeba stared at him pugnaciously until he sighed and looked away.

“He’s sort of got a point,” Hemi whispered. “Why did you come back?”

“Shut up,” said Deeba. “Listen.”

“We should get a move on,” Murgatroyd said to Brokkenbroll. “I’ve got to get back, report to my superiors. Rawley was pretty worried by her letter, you can imagine. She wants reassuring that everything’s in hand. Thanks for telling us who she was. I had to spin her some nonsense about tracking her movements from the post office.” The two men laughed.

“How is it all up there?” Brokkenbroll said.

Murgatroyd shrugged modestly.

“It seems to be working well,” he said. “Our LURCH program is proceeding excellently. It was hard building those trans-odd chimneys that send the fumes directly through to here, but worth the effort. My boss is getting lots of kudos for cutting down on pollution up our end.” They both laughed. “Some people are beginning to wonder if all this might mean Prime Minister Rawley one day. She values her relationship with you and your partner immensely.”

“Yes, I’m sure we’ll do more work together.”

“I know it’s not so easy for it to make its way over…”

“Oh, it does when it has to.”

“Absolutely. Now, I do have to report back that we’ve got the girl. She could have thrown a real spanner in things here.”

“I’m sure we’ve sorted it all out, but just in case, we’ll know everything she knows in a minute,” Brokkenbroll said. “We’ll know exactly who they’ve told. Did you hear that?” he said to Deeba, his voice chillingly gentle. “Lie all you want.”

“I’m not lying!” Deeba shouted.

“It won’t make any difference,” he said. “We’ll know the truth in…” He peered behind her. “In just a minute.”

Murgatroyd was looking too, his face wrinkled with severe distaste.

“I’d rather not stay around for this,” he said. “I’ll go and wait by the elevator, so I can get straight back as soon as we’ve heard.”

“Very well,” Brokkenbroll said. “I’ll take you back. It’s been very handy, installing that elevator in the lab. Not easy, I know, and very appreciated. Meanwhile, we’ll let things here…get on.” He raised his voice and spoke to the something or someone behind Deeba. “Come along when you’re done and tell us how it went. Good-bye, Miss Resham. I hope for your sake you impart whatever information you have swiftly.”

“You pig,” Deeba spat.

“Lanky dweeb!” shouted Hemi.

“You won’t get away with this,” Deeba said. The Unbrellissimo tipped back his hat and looked quizzical.

“Of course I will,” he said. “Who’s going to stop me? The Shwazzy herself couldn’t. So much for the prophecies. If she couldn’t, what on earth do you think you’re going to do?”

Brokkenbroll reached into Deeba’s bag and pulled out her umbrella. He looked at its unbroken shape with extreme distaste.

“How I do hate to see an unbrella in this unfinished state,” he said, and roughly ripped a slit in its canopy.

He dropped it. It didn’t fall flat, but tottered unstably on its handle. It swayed, snapped upright, looked eyelessly around. Brokkenbroll clicked his fingers, and the newborn unbrella leapt to attention.

“Come with me, you,” he said. “Let’s get you treated. But first…”

He gripped Deeba’s shoulders, and spun her and Hemi on their backsides, scraping them on the ground. Now Deeba was pointed at the fire. She could see exactly what was waiting for them.

The flames poured out of a brazier, a big oil drum packed with coal and noxious rubbish, gushing black smoke. Beside it was a pile of trash with a shovel jutting from it.

Standing over the glowing drum, breathing in the stench and filthy fumes with an expression of hunger and delight on his ghastly face, was the thing pretending to be Benjamin Unstible.