It was a spinning corkscrew drill, the size of a steeple. Behind it was a big cylindrical craft, sliding out of the tunnel it had carved.
It flashed with blue lights. It rose out of the earth with a familiar nee-naw-nee-naw sound, and emblazoned on its side Deeba saw the symbol of the Metropolitan Police.
The burrowing thing cut off the way out. A hatch banged open. Two men stuck their heads out, wearing the distinctive domed helmets of the London police.
“Deeba Resham,” one shouted. “You’re under arrest.”
79. Constructive Munitions
Another, familiar face appeared beside those of the two men in uniform.
“That’s her!” screamed Murgatroyd. “That’s the little witch! Get her, Officers! Grab her! Tie me up, will you?” he shrieked at her.
“Mr. Murgatroyd,” the taller policeman said sternly. “Do you mind, sir? You’re not helping.”
“We should have killed him, see?” Hemi spat.
Portals swung open the length of the vessel. Deeba and her friends moved closer together as police emerged in riot gear.
“Miss Resham,” the officer in the hatch called. “I’m Chief Inspector Sound; this is Inspector Churl. We’re with the Special Constabulary for UnLondon Monitoring. We’d like to ask you some questions.”
“What for?” said Deeba.
“You’re nicked is what for,” growled Churl. “For terrorism.”
“What?” said Deeba. The CCTV cameras swarmed back to the police vehicle.
“Alright, alright,” Sound said. “I’ll deal with this, Inspector.”
“You’re coming with us, girl,” Churl sneered.
“Hear that?” screamed Murgatroyd. “You’re never getting out of jail! It’s special rendition for you!”
“Will you two stop it?” muttered Sound. “Listen, Miss Resham, I’m sorry about all this. Let’s just get it sorted out—”
“I’m not a terrorist!” shouted Deeba. “Listen— they’re helping the Smog. He is. They’re going to let it take the whole of UnLondon, and he’s in on it, and his boss, Rawley the Environment minister, and you’re going to help them!”
“You seem to have mistaken me for someone who gives a monkey’s,” Churl said. The three men climbed out of the vehicle. “Were you terrified, Murgatroyd?” Murgatroyd nodded eagerly. “There you go, girclass="underline" you’re a terrorist. You make me twitchy, and under Article Forty-one of the 2000 Terrorism Bill, that’s all I need. Time for some reasonable force, I think.” He cracked his knuckles.
“And her friends!” Murgatroyd shouted.
“Inspector, Mr. Murgatroyd, enough,” Sound said. “We’ve no jurisdiction over locals, and so long as they stay out of our way I’m not bothered.”
“Except,” shouted Churl, “unless I’m very mistaken, that is Joseph Jones, originally of Tooting, now of no-fixed-abode. You’re a Londoner, sonny-jim, and that means you’re mine. Bring ’em!”
The rows of police began to march towards the travelers, truncheons raised.
“How do they know you?” Deeba hissed. “The phlegm effect…?”
“There are ways round it,” said Jones, backing away. “This lot never forgave the conductors; they weren’t going to let themselves forget us, either.”
“Miss Resham,” Sound urged as the police bore down, faces invisible behind their masks, “listen to me. I know you’ve got certain concerns— there are certain parties you think you may have irritated— and I want to assure you we can protect you.” He stared at her. “D’you understand? Let me help you.”
Deeba’s eyes widened. Protection…? she thought with a sudden stab of emotion.
“There are too many,” Jones said grimly. “We can’t get out.”
“What about your family?” Sound said to Deeba over the slow approach of the police. “Don’t you want to get back to them, eh?” He watched shock and hope come and go on her face. “You know,” he said gently, “I’ve got a daughter about your age. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if she were down here.” He held out his hand.
Deeba stared. His words reminded her painfully that her family were not worrying about her, and that was suddenly unbearable. She looked at Sound, beckoning her.
“Oh, them,” said Churl. “Those three other enemies of the state resident at your address. Cause any trouble, I’m going to enjoy ensuring their arrest and detention.”
“Leave them alone,” Deeba screamed at him. “You can’t—”
“Inspector, hush up,” hissed Sound. “Miss Resham, come quietly now, let me sort all this out, and you have my word— I’ll make sure we lose that paperwork about your mum and dad. And don’t you look at me like that!” he added curtly to Churl, staring at him until his assistant looked down sulkily. “None of us wants this, Miss Resham. You never wanted all this! I know there’s just been a big misunderstanding, and I can sort it. Let me take care of it. And meanwhile you’ll be safe, in our custody, and you can see your mum and dad. We’ll make sure you’re all protected…and your friend, too. Understand?”
“Protection…” Deeba said at last. Sound clicked his fingers, and the police paused in their approach.
“Guaranteed,” he said.
“Deeba…” she heard Hemi say, but she ignored him.
I could go home, she thought. I could see Mum and Dad, and they’ll remember me.
“Please,” Sound said to her. “I can’t stand seeing a nice young lady like you in this mess. The longer this goes on now, the harder it’s going to be to keep your parents out of this…” He glanced at Churl, rolled his eyes, and shook his head in a minute apology to Deeba. “Come on now.”
“This is taking too long,” Murgatroyd said. “Just get them—”
“Quiet,” Sound interrupted him. “This is a police operation, and I am in charge.” He held out his hand again. “Miss Resham, let me take you home.”
Home, Deeba thought, with a feeling so sweet and painful she almost made a sound.
What if…, she realized she was thinking,…what if I do?
What if I go with him?
If I don’t go back, they’ll take Mum and Dad away, she thought desperately, glancing at Churl’s unpleasant features. And Hass! I can’t let them do that…And even if I could get away from them now, I might not ever get out…and Mum and Dad’ll be in prison and they won’t even know why, and they’ll forget me.
The thought was too appalling. She stared at Sound, and tried not to look at her companions.
How can I beat the Smog? she thought. Even with Jones and Hemi and everyone? It’s way too strong. But with the whole government and the police protecting me…I could be safe.
“Deeba, don’t,” said Hemi in a horrified voice.
She couldn’t look at him. There was a silence. The police waited.
“I’m sorry, Hemi…” she said at last, her voice tiny. “It’s my family…It’s a way back…And look at us. Look at me. I’m not the Shwazzy. We’ve got no chance against the Smog…But they can protect me. And Zanna.”