Un Lun Dun

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 with relief, and kissed its cover.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Hey, I still don’t think you should’ve run like that. Now we don’t know where we are. And it just made you look guilty. We need to get back as fast as we can and talk to them.”

“But you saw what was happening,” Deeba said. “Mortar and that lot, they love Unstible. He used to be one of them. And with Brokkenbroll too, they’re not going to believe us.”

“So what do you propose we do?” the book said.

“I dunno,” Deeba said in despair.

“Brokkenbroll’s convincing everyone,” Hemi said.

“Right,” said Deeba. “So no one believes he’s working with the Smog. Against UnLondon. And Hemi, you heard him, he’s looking for me and he’s going to go after Zanna! My friend! Because I came back! I have to get out of here, warn her. Maybe I can sneak back to the Pons. Book, you know how to direct the bridge, don’t you…?”

“I can’t do it—” the book started to say, but Hemi interrupted.

“Wait. On the bridge you’ll get caught straightaway, and like they said, they’ll bring you to Brokkenbroll, and that means back to that…other thing. And they’ll think they’re helping.”

“Alright then,” she said. “I’ll go back to the library and climb back down. There’s got to be other ways in and out…”

“They’ll be putting the word out right now,” Hemi said. “They’re looking for you. And me. Places like the Wordhoard Pit’ll be guarded. And anyway, listen: how’s it going to help being back in London?” Deeba stared at him. “No, seriously. Like you said, the Smog’s coming after your friend— and you. If it comes at you there, how you going to fight it?”

“It got beat before…” Deeba said, but her words dried up. Whatever the circumstances of its apparent previous defeat— which the Unstible-thing had hinted might be more complicated than she thought— there was no “Klinneract” in London with which she could fight it. The instrument of the Smog’s banishment had been an act of Parliament, a weapon Deeba couldn’t possibly wield. She’d be helpless.

Seeing her face, Hemi spoke quickly.

“Remember what it said? It still isn’t easy for it to go up there. And it said it wants to…to sort you out first. It’s going to be looking for you here.”

“How’s that supposed to make me feel better?” Deeba asked in a strangled voice.

“What I mean is, it isn’t going to go after your friend. Not while you’re here. Not till…But if you went back now, it’d follow and try to sort you both at once.”

“But I have to go,” Deeba whispered. “My family’s waiting…”

In fact, the truth, she knew, was that because of the phlegm effect they were not waiting for her. And the truth was that was worse. It was that not-waiting that frightened her, made her so eager to get home.

That and the fact that a carnivorous intelligent cloud was only a few miles away, hunting her. But Hemi was right. Even if she could get back now, the Smog would still come for her— and for Zanna, too. And they’d have no defenses.

“If you go back,” Hemi said, “it’ll come for you.”

Deeba could hardly breathe, thinking of it. She struggled to think the situation through. Panic welled up in her, but she fought it down. Stop, she thought. You’ve got to be clever here. You’ve got to think hard.

“Okay,” she muttered. “It’s all down to the Smog, and Brokkenbroll. I have to get out of here soon, but I can’t while everyone’s looking for me like I’m the trouble. And even if I could, it wouldn’t be safe with the Smog after me, ’cause it’s come for me and Zann. And I can’t persuade the Propheseers to go against it: they think they already are. So…” There was a long silence. “We have to stop it ourselves.”

“What are you talking about?” the book said. “Who’s ‘we’? What do you think you can do?”

“Leave her alone,” said Hemi. “We’re all in a mess here. She’s smart, though.” The area they were in was no longer deserted. Going about their business, a variety of figures had appeared. Many were carrying unbrellas. Deeba saw a robot made of glass, and a figure with a vegetable face, and men and women and other things in rags and elegant gowns, in tuxedos made of plastic and suits of armor made of china, and several in the strangely simple uniforms that London trades had copied.

Some of the UnLondoners were walking their way, and were looking at Deeba and Hemi with curiosity.

“Oh, I just want to get out of here and go home,” Hemi moaned.

“Yeah but they’re looking for you, too,” Deeba said. “We’re both being hunted.”

“We have to be careful,” Hemi said. “We don’t know who’s on what side. And now the Propheseers…”

“He’s right,” the book said. “They’ll put out word. People will start looking for us.”

“Shut up and listen,” Deeba said. “Something has to stop the Smog, or I can’t go, and I…we’re the only ones that can.” She waited, but neither Hemi nor, this time, the book raised any objections to her plural. “And there’s nothing in London I could use against it. But there must be stuff here. That’s why it didn’t want Zanna here. So. Book, we know you got it wrong about the Shwazzy. That prophecy went wrong, right? But you still must have all the details of what it was she was supposed to do, right? To stop UnLondon’s enemies, right?

“Okay then. The destiny didn’t work with the Chosen One. So I’ll do it instead.”