Right behind the Katie Hobbs Fan Club was another sleigh with a plump pink-faced woman and a tall gentle-looking man. Nicola realised they were Topaz and Joshua’s parents when she heard the woman say, ‘Topaz and Joshua Silverbell – what are you children wearing? You will freeze to death.’

As everyone arrived Katie and Greta efficiently organised for their clothes to be dyed yellow. Shimlara ran them through her Instant Clothes Dryer and the people dressed in the change-tent, emerging minutes later in their bright yellow clothes. Meanwhile, Sean and Joshua were rigging up loudspeakers (or loudtalkers or loudshouters, depending on which planet you’re from) for the music, and Tyler was busy making the final arrangements for the plan they’d come up with for the buttons.

Nicola went over to Serena’s table to see how the petition was coming along.

‘It’s about the length of my arm,’ said Serena, holding it up. ‘Not quite the length of a rainbow.’

Topaz came and stood beside them.

‘This is great,’ she began. ‘But . . .’

‘But we need more people,’ finished Nicola. She looked around. They now had enough people for quite a good party but it wasn’t enough for a protest march and it certainly wasn’t enough to intimidate Enrico.

‘The Security Thugs will just round us all up and take us to jail,’ fretted Topaz. ‘If more people don’t show up soon I’m wondering if we should cancel the whole thing and just – run . . . run for our lives!’

‘Oh my goodness,’ said Serena.

‘Well, I’m serious,’ said Topaz.

‘No – oh my goodness, look!” Serena pointed over their shoulders. Topaz and Nicola turned around. Topaz made a sound that was somewhere between a sob, a laugh and a hiccup. Nicola pressed both her hands to her cheeks.

There was a great swarming mass coming across the foothills of the Cloud-Capped Mountain.

It was the people of Shobble.

There were families crammed into slow-moving sleighs. There were young people riding ShobGobbles and old people being pushed in wheelchairs. There were mothers with babies in prams and fathers with children on their shoulders. There were marshmallow miners and chocolate drillers with their tools still in their hands and determined expressions on their grimy faces. There were even hairities – their long brown hair flying glamorously behind them as they marched towards the Honey Sea Wharf.

As Nicola looked towards the horizon she could see even more people.

‘It must be the whole planet,’ whispered Topaz. Her eyes were like saucers.

It seemed that the people of Shobble were ready to have their say.

38

It was madness. It was mayhem. There were far too many people. Far too many helpful, chatty, overexcited people. Too many people with questions. Too many people with opinions.

A jostling crowd surrounded Nicola and Topaz.

‘Are you sure Enrico has a phobia about the colour yellow? Because I heard it was the colour red.’