“Maybe all the rooms have blocked doors,” she managed to say. “But they’ll get out eventually. And you heard what they said about getting my mum and dad…”

“Hold on a sec,” said Jones. He trotted to the side of the burrowing vehicle.

“They wouldn’t have helped you,” Hemi whispered. He put his hand on her shoulder. “They would have given you to the Smog, when they were done questioning you. And your family, too.”

“I know,” Deeba managed to say. “I do know. It’s just…first chance I’d seen to get back…hard to say no…”

“It’s Rosa really knows her way around machines,” Jones said, fussing at the panels below the contraption’s huge spiral nose. He got one open, and made an aha noise at the mess of wires and tubes that sprang out. “But in my experience,” he continued, “this sort of thing generally doesn’t go down well with engines at all.”

Jones gripped a fistful of wires, gritted his teeth, and sent a huge surge of current into the metal innards. There was a series of flashes and a resounding bang, and smoke began to gush from the hatch, and the machinery’s seams. For good measure, Jones tugged out a handful of the charred, half-melting wires. He blinked and staggered a little.

“Now,” he said. “I’m not saying that’s unfixable, but it’ll take ’em awhile, I’d think, even after they get out of their new abode. A little breathing space for your loved ones, Deeba. So let’s use it, to get you back to them, sharpish.”

They took the fire escape over the roofs.

As she went, Deeba glanced at the burrowing machine and wondered how often the secret squad came through to UnLondon. The vehicle had to dig not only through the crust of the earth, but through the Odd, through the membrane between the city and the abcity. If I just climbed back behind it, Deeba wondered, into its tunnel…could I walk all the way home?

But even if it would work— which she doubted— Hemi was right. It was still a trap. The Smog would still come after her, and there was no one to keep her, her friend Zanna, or her family safe but her. She had a job to do. And UnLondon needed her.

Deeba and her comrades descended nearby in a tangle of loud, late-night/ early-morning streets full of shoppers and partygoers. Deeba realized she had missed crowds.

Even in such a boisterous area, filled with the tunes from several different music machines, and UnLondoners dancing in even more astounding costumes and colors than normal, Deeba could feel an edge of anxiety that had not been there when she first visited the abcity. Many people carried unbrellas. People watched each other suspiciously.

“UnSun’ll be up soon,” Jones said. “We should find some cover.”

“Look,” said Hemi. “Can you feel it? People know something’s up. See people all tense? Rumors are out. Word’s probably spreading about what you did up by Webminster Abbey, Deeba— people probably don’t know who to trust anymore. But they know something’s up. They know there’s a battle coming. Maybe some of them even reckon they’re going to have to pick sides.”