“I think there’s been a change of plans,” the book said.
“Why don’t you just ask me?” Unstible growled, and laughed.
“Don’t talk to it,” the book said. “Just be ready to shoot!”
“Unbrellas do work,” Unstible said. Deeba could hear it moving. “Protect against bullets. Against missiles. Against coal-rain. Without unbrellas, all the UnLondoners stay hidden, whenever I come. Hide in holes. Hide in cellars. They stay out of sight. No good.”
“What?” whispered Deeba.
“I want to breathe. To suck in smoke and know. The lovely burn of books, and houses, and pictures, and people. Silly UnLondoners. Silly Deeba. It’s not like ending. Everything burns, and floats in smoke, into me. I keep it safe. Make it me. I am everything.
“Everything is so fragile. So I set my fires, to breathe it in, and save it forever in my clouds. But the UnLondoners hide. Too scared. Then put out my fires.”
Deeba stared at the convoluted rebrella remains.
“It wants people to think they’ll be okay,” she said. “So they’ll come out.”
“When ’Broll heard what Unstible was looking for, over your side,” it said, “he came to me, with his plan…But he wanted to rule, by lies. And feed me a little at a time, without UnLondoners knowing what they did for me.
“He wanted me to be a secret pet.
“But I want to grow, and grow, and know. I wasn’t strong enough for a long time. But I’ve been feeding. I want to know and know and grow. Lovely books. Burn and learn, burn and learn. Lovely people, lovely minds.” The horrible crooning hunger in the voice made Deeba sick. “But you all kept hiding. And Brokkenbroll gave me an idea. So I show them, boo hoo, how much they beat me with their magic unbrellas…”
“Oh my God,” said Deeba. “They’ll all come out…It’s going to attack…to rain…and they’ll all come out, because they think unbrellas protect them…” And it’ll rain its new chemical…and everyone will burn.
“That’s what it’s been researching,” the book said. “A compound that reacts to Unstible’s formula. It’s not working with the Unbrellissimo at all, it’s double-crossing him, using him. Brokkenbroll thinks the unbrellas are shields he controls…but they’re matches, ready to light.”
“They come out to show they’re not afraid,” said Unstible, its voice singsong and horrifying. “And rain comes down and they’ll go up, in light and smoke, and I will gather everyone. And fire will spread, and all UnLondoners and all their houses and their lovely books and all their lovely minds will float in smoke and come and be in me. And I’ll know everything. And be everyone. No one will end. I will be all of you.
“Is that so bad?”
Deeba saw visions of the abcity, and all its inhabitants, in flames. The Smog would be colossal, a supergenius, of millions of minds and millions of books, all mixed in its poison, ruling over a kingdom of ash. She went absolutely cold.
“I’ll be so strong, then,” it whispered. “Strong enough to travel long ways, all of me, and burn, and learn, in a thousand places, in abcities…and cities.”
It was insatiable, Deeba realized. If it succeeded, tonight, it would become a poisonous, fire-starting smoke god, burning and learning everything it could reach.
“I’ll learn everything I can get to. Understand?” It began to laugh.
Deeba couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t just about her or Zanna or her family or even the whole of UnLondon. The Smog knew the way to London, too.
One bullet, she thought, and thought of what she’d fired already, and wondered what the UnGun would do with what was left. Do…not…miss…
There was the churn of a motor, and the approach of clanking.
“Well, that was a total bust,” she heard someone shout.
Brokkenbroll’s voice came from the elevator shaft.
“Like I thought, the minister won’t give us any more people. She was a bit concerned when I told them what’s going on, too.” The lift descended into view. Brokkenbroll opened the gate and stepped out, with Lectern behind him, and unbrellas on all sides.
“In fact,” he said, “she asked me to keep an eye out for Murgatroyd. Can’t find him. She said I should—”
He stopped. He stared at the chaos of the laboratory, at Unstible, hiding from Deeba, at Deeba herself. For a moment, no one moved.
“Turn up the gas!” screamed Unstible.
“Brokkenbroll!” shouted Deeba. “No! It’s a trick!”
But as Lectern dropped cowering to the floor, Brokkenbroll grabbed the gas valve and twisted it. The flames below the vat roared, and the glowing liquid bubbled more vigorously.
Deeba swung her UnGun towards Brokkenbroll, then faltered as Unstible leapt into view and ran towards her with bouncing strides.
One bullet, one bullet, Deeba thought.
She ducked sideways, aiming down the barrel of the UnGun, until both Unstible and Brokkenbroll were in her line of sight. The vat of glowing chemical was beginning to steam and spit.
Brokkenbroll’s unbrellas rose like ravens and came for her. Brokkenbroll raised his hand. Unstible was close, snarling, drooling smoke.
Deeba braced and pulled the trigger.
93. Shed Skin
An almighty explosion rang in Deeba’s ears. The UnGun recoiled.
From every corner of the air came paper airplanes. Some were tiny; some were made from huge sheets. They were all different colors. Some were made from pages torn from books, some were written on in pen, some were blank.
There were simple folded darts and intricate models with recurved wings. The air was filled with thousands. They dive-bombed Brokkenbroll and Unstible as if they were carried in a hurricane.
They swept past the targets, brushing the two men with the edges of their wings, scoring lines. Brokkenbroll cried out.
Her aim was good. But Brokkenbroll was clicking his fingers, and a phalanx of his unbrellas opened and made a shield. With a drumming like rain, the paper missiles bounced from the reinforced fabric.
In the center of that shield, Deeba saw the red, lizard-covered rebrella.
No! she thought in despair. With him so close, he’s controlling it again.
There were no unbrellas protecting Unstible. The paper edges scraped it hundreds of times. Had it been a man, the stinging onslaught might have hurt it. But it was not. It stood in the middle of the blizzard of darts and laughed. Behind it, the vat bubbled violently, and thick steam poured off it. Unstible sucked, and the green swirls eddied into its mouth and nose. Unstible’s body grew fatter. Its skin stretched.
“Come on!” Deeba shouted, and shook the UnGun. “Paper planes?” she shouted. “Paper cuts? Drop a ton of books on them or something!” But the onslaught of folded planes was ebbing.
Unstible’s skin was marked with little wounds, which didn’t bleed, but oozed wisps of smoke. Brokkenbroll peered out from behind his unbrellas.
He looked at Deeba, holding her useless empty weapon. She desperately tried to snap open its cylinder to reload, but it wouldn’t budge. The Unbrellissimo looked at Unstible, still sucking in the stream of green fumes.