Read Online The Empire of Gut and Bone by M. T. Anderson - Free Book Online Page A

shook his head. “Alas.”
    Brian said, “You can’t just give up. I’m telling you that the Thusser have forfeited the Game! By the Rules, you can just go in and end the whole contest! You can take your old kingdom back!”
    Munderplast smiled sadly. Somewhere in the hall, a phone was ringing insistently, ignored by all. “My boy,” said Munderplast, “I can do nothing. The Party of Melancholy is currently in the minority in the Imperial Council. The ruling party there at the moment is the Norumbegan Social Club. A very different band of people. Jolly. Fond of giggling and swell pleasance. Our fine Regent is at their head. Duke Telliol-Bornwythe. He and the Norumbegan Social Club hold all the power. Unless he were to die — Great Liver forbid such a sad turning — and an election be held for a new regent, we of the Melancholy Party shall be sitting in the backseat of this dismal jalopy for some years.”
    The phone kept ringing.
    “Of course,” said Munderplast, “if the Regent were to die, then it might be possible for a statesman such as myself to suggest to the young Emperor that —”
    “Does no one have hands?” shouted the Regent across the crowd. “Will someone get the phone?”
    “Sorry, old thing,” said someone wearily. “Can’t reach it from here. Arm isn’t long enough.”
    There was a general murmur of agreement. None of them had arms long enough. The phone was fifteen feet away. It kept ringing.
    “You have to help us,” Brian pressed the Earl of Munderplast. “Not just with that. Our friends have been locked up.”
    “Oh,” said Munderplast. “Those automatons? You call them friends?”
    “We brought one of them from Old Norumbega,” said Gregory. “The troll. He’s part of the Game.”
    “He’s more than that,” said Brian.
    Behind them, the Regent was surging through the crowd, trying to get to the phone.
    “I see. You sympathize with the metal help.”
    Another man standing nearby — a handsome, youngish nobleman with black hair slicked back and a polka-dot bow tie — said, “Clockwork-lovers, hmm? I wouldn’t get your hopes up, chaps, for a fond reunion, tears in every eye, embraces all round, picnic in the gills, tra la la. They’re being reeducated. The two automatons.”
    “What do you mean?” Brian demanded.
    “Scrubbed. Fixed. So they’re no longer rebellious.”
    Brian felt his fingers grow cold. He and Gregory looked at each other in horror.
    “No!” said Brian. “You’ve got to stop people from doing it! You can’t let them!”
    “Why ever not, old thing?”
    “Because they’re our friends. We won’t — we won’t tell you our message. We won’t tell you anything, if you don’t release them, if you don’t —”
    The young man said, “Afraid, chaps, you don’t have much choice. You’re rather over a barrel, being in our midst and surrounded by armed guards and all.”
    “See and behold,” droned the Earl of Munderplast to the boys. “Only two and half minutes into our parley, and already sorrow has come to you. Verily, nothing shall turn out —”
    “HUSH!”
hissed the Regent from across the room.
    The crowd had gathered around the door into the hall. Right outside the door, there was an old wooden phone box with a mouthy phone like the one in General Malark’s headquarters. The Regent was speaking on it theatrically, loud enough so that everyone could hear.
    “Ah. Mr. Malark. Yes, we were expecting your call…. I said, ‘Mr. Malark’…. Mister …
Mister
… Because, sir, you are not a general…. Allow me to clarify: I am the Regent of the Empire of the Innards, which extends through the whole of the Great Body, explored and unexplored. I am therefore the only current head of the armed forces. There is but one army in the Empire, and it has no generals named Malark. I was explaining this to your lackey only an hour ago.”
    There was a general murmur of appreciation from the crowd, a rumble of approval. The Regent put his