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

finger over his lips and silenced the Court with his hand.
    “Yes, sir, he arrived here…. Yes…. Yes, indeed, we have the two little human cublings with us here in the Grand Hall…. They’re a little greasy and they have no conversation, but no, they’re no worse for wear…. Oh? … Oh? But surely you’ve heard all this from the excellent Mr. Dantsig…. No? … Really? You haven’t heard from your submarine? … No? … Now, isn’t that a bit rum? Very odd.”
    The crowd, finding this hilarious, started snickering and talking. The Regent, who now looked fit to bust with laughter, squeezed his eyes shut and waved them all back vigorously. He mimed a big, comic
Shhhh!
    Brian and Gregory exchanged a frantic look.
    “Yes, well, I do have an explanation, Mr. Malark.” He paused for dramatic effect, then said, delighted, “We do have some sense of what might have happened. Because we have imprisoned your envoy, your marines, and your troll, and they’re all going to be reeducated…. Yes … Tutored … Sternly … What do you think of that? … Insofar as you can think … Oh, I’m so sorry…. So very sorry … Perhaps there is a can opener there into whose arms you can cry? …”
    At this, the young nobleman in the polka-dot bow tie let loose a loud guffaw. “Classic,” he muttered.
    “You’ve got to stop this!” Brian hissed urgently.
    “Hush,” said the Earl of Munderplast. “Can’t you see, the Regent is speaking on the telephone. There.”
    Brian, loud on purpose, mustering his courage, proclaimed, “We’re not going to tell you our news if you don’t release our friends right now!”
    Dark eyes swiveled to glare at him. Mouths were sour. The end of his sentence was still loud, but it was awkward, weak, and uncertain.
    He did not speak again as the Regent continued, “And what? And what will you do? … Ah? … Ah? … But you can’t…. You can’t even call me a name…. You aren’t built for it…. Try…. Just try…. Oh, I say, that was actually rather good…. Hmm, yes, that will do…. Yes … Well, I think that perhaps this conversa — What? … What? … Oh, I’d like to see that…. That really would be rich…. Yes, of course I invite you to try…. Please, by all means … Yes….” Then he snarled, “Youlittle hand-pump, you wouldn’t dare,” and hung up, slamming down the mouthpiece. The call was over.
    With a gentle smile, the Regent turned to the Norumbegan Court.
    “I am pleased to announce,” he said, “that the Mannequin Resistance has just declared war. They say they’re coming to besiege New Norumbega.”
    The room went wild with confusion, anger, and delight.

NINE
    N ew Norumbega’s Imperial Prison was not impressive: a messy ring of huts strung together around a circular courtyard that was paved with flagstones of ancient jerky ripped from the wall of the Dry Heart, striped with fats.
    Dantsig and Kalgrash, handcuffed, were marched through the yard. They stumbled past pits where prisoners called up through wooden gratings for food, drink, and mercy. Guards goaded the two automatons on.
    “All right, all right, all right,” said Kalgrash irritably. “Stop shoving! I bite.” He clacked his pointed teeth.
    In lean-tos, soldiers played cards or snoozed.
    “What’s the big —” Kalgrash started, then stopped himself, nearly slamming into Dantsig.
    Dantsig, mouth dropped open, was staring to the side.
    One wall was lined with rough wooden shelves that had been sloppily painted blue. Kalgrash saw, lined up on those shelves, stretching for forty feet or more, rows androws of mannequin heads, caught in expressions of fear and surprise. Necks that had been disconnected from bodies that still floated out there in the mire, in Three-Gut. Eyes that were blank. Brains that were shut down. The prisoners taken at the siege of Delge.
    Then he grew truly terrified. The Norumbegans really did see him and his kind merely as machines. Not like Wee Sniggleping, who adored