The vat was burst. The liquid had reached some critical heat and exploded.
It had blown off the roof. Deeba looked up again and let out a cry of terror.
Rising directly above the room, the Smog flew.
It was growing as it rose, spreading out into its full dimensions. It indulged itself, played, gave itself momentary smoky wings, or claws, or teeth. In the loonlight, Deeba could see thick green spread through it as it mingled the chemical with the rest of its substance. All the fumes in the room were sucked up in its wake, merging with it.
The factory’s great chimney was trembling. It began to collapse at the top, falling in on itself and roaring as it tumbled down, sending bricks and brick dust into the fireplace a few feet from her.
Deeba put her head in her hands. But as she cowered, she heard ricochets.
Her rebrella was open by the fireplace. It was darting from side to side and up and down faster than she could see, using its reinforced fabric to shield her— and coincidentally Lectern, Mortar, and even Brokkenbroll— from the falling bricks. She watched its beautiful life-saving performance in amazement.
After several seconds, the top of the chimney had collapsed inwards and clogged the shaft. The remaining stub swayed and held.
One by one, the walls of the room fell away. The rubble of the laboratory was open to the air. The rebrella clicked closed, and spun into Deeba’s hand.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Deeba…” It was Mortar. The soporific little smoggler that had covered his face was gone, sucked into the growing cloud above them. He staggered to his feet, raising a plume of dust, and shuffled towards her, blinking.
“I don’t know what’s happened,” he said, “but I do know I’ve been a terrible, terrible fool. Please forgive me. I simply…couldn’t believe my own old friend Unstible was…” His voice failed him.
Deeba eyed him. She knew she should be extremely angry with him, and she would be soon, but not just then.
“He wasn’t,” she said. “Your friend didn’t do nothing. It was the Smog.” She decided not to show him Unstible’s skin. He looked on the verge of collapse already.
“But…can you ever…”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll forgive you later. Right now there’s no time.” She pointed up. Mortar stared in horror at the growing mass of greening cloud.
“What’s it doing?”
Deeba spoke urgently.
“It’s getting ready to make every unbrella in UnLondon a firebomb— all them unbrellas it and Brokkenbroll told everyone to carry. For protection.” With your help, she thought, but didn’t say. It was obvious from Mortar’s face that he knew it.
“What can we do?” he said mournfully. “What can I do?”
“First, we need to…stop her getting away,” Deeba said suddenly and, without even thinking, hurled the rebrella at Lectern, who was creeping towards the elevator. It tangled into the Propheseer’s legs, pulled her down. Lectern wailed. “She went over to Brokkenbroll,” Deeba said. “Deliberately.”
“Lectern!” Mortar said.
“Yeah, it’s terrible, but we don’t have time to be horrified yet,” Deeba said. She thought quickly. She looked up at the Smog, and out over the ruined walls across UnLondon.
All over the city, dark plumes were rising from the smogmires.
Everywhere were flashes of fires and battles, and the noises of struggle, as the great war for UnLondon raged. But something new was happening.
The Smog was oozing out of the streets it had taken over, tugging out of the sewers and the houses, floating up into a choking lid. It sat in the air in fat globs acres wide, dangling filaments of smoke like feelers, sucking the last of itself from chimneys.
All the Smog of UnLondon rose. Nightbirds, highfish, and flying vessels lurched, shocked, to evade it.
From every battleground, the Smog seeped out of the reanimated flesh of the smombies. They collapsed, or were suddenly controlled by surprised ghosts who’d been struggling to push the sentient smoke out of them. The Smog gushed out of the tanks and pipes on the stink-junkies. They fell to the floor and wheezed in withdrawal as the pollutants that had addicted them floated away.
All the clots of Smog billowed through the air and rolled into each other, like blobs of mercury. They joined into fatter clouds. They slowly approached the densest patch of all, over Deeba’s head. After weeks in Unstible’s skin, it was luxuriating in the open sky.
Deeba heard cheers from across UnLondon.
“They think it’s over,” said Deeba. “They think they won. But it’s drawing together, so it can mix that chemical in. It boiled it so it could breathe it— now it’s going to mix it into every bit of Smog there is. Then it’ll spread again…and rain. While everyone celebrates. They’ll see it coming, but they’ll just put up their unbrellas.”
“And then…” said the book.
“The unbrellas,” Deeba said. “And the people carrying them. They’ll all burn.”
94. The Dreadful Sky
“Can you get to the bridge?” she said. “Mortar! Can you?”
With a visible effort, Mortar looked away from the growing mass of Smog.
“Yes,” he said. “I may be tired, and an idiot, but I wouldn’t be a Propheseer if I couldn’t get to the Pons Absconditus.”
“Right,” said Deeba. She thought fast. “You have to go everywhere. Hundreds and thousands of people are out and about tonight. You have to go everywhere, and tell them the Smog’s coming back, and that their unbrellas won’t help them: they’ll kill them.
“Maybe gather up more Propheseers. Move as fast as you can. Tell people to get underground, whatever. And throw their unbrellas away!”
“But what then?” said the book. “The Smog’ll be everywhere…”
“First thing’s to stop it killing everyone,” she snapped. “Then we’ll work out what’s next.”
“What are you going to do?” Mortar asked.
“I need to get my friends,” Deeba said. “Jones and Obaday and the others…I have to make sure they’re okay.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“No. You have to go now. There’s no time. Spread the word. I’ll…try to sort things out here.”
Mortar looked for a moment as if he was about to argue, then changed his mind.
“I’ll get the bridge,” he said. He shook his head to clear it, and concentrated.
“She’d better go with you,” said Deeba. “Don’t want her escaping to London.” She stretched out her hand, and her rebrella yanked Lectern towards her. Lectern squeaked.
“How did you do that with an unbrella?” said Mortar.
“It’s not,” Deeba said. “It’s a rebrella…that’s another thing! Everyone can fix their unbrellas. That frees them from Brokkenbroll.”
“So if they fix them, they can use them against the Smog…?”
“No, they’ll still explode in the rain. Forget it. You have to get everyone inside, fast. We’ll fix the unbrellas afterwards. Brokkenbroll’s not the problem now.”
Above them, the Smog was condensing. Its smogglers were congealing into it one after the other. The green tinge was spreading throughout its substance.
“Get the bridge here,” said Deeba.
Mortar gripped Lectern’s shoulder. Lectern was so slumped and defeated, Deeba didn’t think she would run.
He should take Brokkenbroll, Deeba thought. But the Unbrellissimo was still out cold, and no one had the strength to drag him. She watched the Smog.