Through a Looking Glass Darkly: Ace of Pentacles Part One
When Alice was fourteen, she became a Spade.
It wasn’t a decision she’d made lightly. There were four different types of Suits, and although you had to be appointed to the Hearts, if she’d really wanted to dress up and fawn over the Queen all day, she could have certainly used her friendship with Jack to that end. She could have been a Club; Cricket and Grace were going to be, and there were much worse bosses she could have than Darrel. She could have been a Diamond as well, and taken snatches of conversation with Oysters when they woke up.
There were also the sub-Suits, which combined aspects of different Suits. The Lizards were maintenance people, but the fact that they worked in the city necessitated that they master the basics of self-defense, meaning that they were not quite Clubs, and even less Spades. The Eggmen worked with Oysters, which was a Diamond thing but the high degree of technical knowledge they needed meant that they required some Club training as well. Most people expected her to become an Eggman; she had the marks, and she had her father’s footsteps before her.
But she couldn’t help but remember the stories she had heard about her father’s attempt to free her mother. He’d put up a good fight, but in the end, he couldn’t stand against trained fighters. If it came down to it, she would need to.
That left the White Rabbit, a fighting force operating out of the Oyster’s world, or the Spades. In the end, she’d chosen the Spades; as a White Rabbit she would have access to an exit out of Wonderland, of course, but she would also be spending most of her time out of contact with the Casino in general and her father in particular. She needed to be close by, and thus, she needed to be a Spade.
Fletcher raised an eyebrow as she looked over her application. “Are you sure this is what you want, Jelly?”
“Yes, ace,” she replied.
“Are you sure you don’t want to change this? Become a White Rabbit, or even a Lizard?” she asked.
“No, ace.”
“Jellybean,” her teacher said. “You aren’t thinking this through. You’ve been watching the Spades closely- you know that women in the Suit don’t generally last long, and they don’t succeed.”
“I’ll be different.” Jelly replied, and then hastily added “Ace.”
“Jelly, women in the Spade suit have a tendency to be executed- the Queen often finds them to be insubordinate and liable to undermine her power,” Fletcher told bluntly. “Think about your father. Do you know what that would do to him?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Jelly replied. “As I said, I’ll be different.”
Fletcher sighed, and stamped her approval. “It’s your funeral. Don’t expect me not to tell you I told you so at it.”
She’d regretted that decision exactly once. Oh, she had plenty of regrets for what she’d done as a Spade, but as for being one, it was just the one time.
It had been about three months into her training, when they’d been woken up for what they thought was a routine morning inspection. There had been plenty of those, exercises in pointlessness and boredom that somehow managed to be exhausting. They stood out on the execution grounds on the Casino’s cloistered roof, eyes forward and bodies obeying whatever commands the Seven in charge of their training would bark out, mentally squinting at clouds until they resembled bandersnatches, or trying to count the axes mounted on the wall.
This morning was different. No sooner had they arranged themselves into formation when Mad March came out from the holding cells, grinning in a way that benefited his mania, and dragging Fletcher by the hair.
“Good morning kiddies!” he said cheerfully, throwing her down by a stump. He unhooked an axe from his belt, and positioned it over her; they could hear her sobbing clearly from the other end of roof. “Today, you get to learn how to kill!”
He brought the axe down with a resounding thump. Blood spurted out of the cut, soaking into the stump and spilling over onto the ground. Fletcher’s head stayed in place for a moment, before rolling to the ground.
The Spades-in-training stared, horrified. She heard one of the boys in the back retch, but Jelly couldn’t make herself look away from March and the body to see who it was.
“Okay kids, triple up!” The assassin called, his overly-long front teeth gleaming in the early morning light. “One stump and one axe per group- we’ve got an entire dungeon full of people whose heads need to roll.”
For a moment nobody moved. Then Mad March’s grin became impossibly larger and he began to shift his axe from hand to hand. “And if anyone disagrees, they get to deal with me.”
She supposed it couldn’t have taken very long, though she couldn’t have told you how long it took. She remembered it as being noisy, mostly. Mad March was constantly yelling out helpful hints like “Don’t feel bad it you can’t severe the head in one blow!” and “If they’re struggling, just have one of your mates sit on them!” Some of the Spades in training broke down, crying and heaving, until March put them out of his misery. The prisoners were yelling too: pleas for mercy and insistences of innocence, of course, but there were other, more personal cries. Alban’s mother kept telling him not to look. Honoria yelled at Jelly from across the grounds to let Grace know that she was sorry. One of her prisoners made a lucky break and lunged at March, spitting insults about the assassin’s father until she was dragged back to her stump. It was messy too; for weeks later, she’d go running to the nearest sink, convinced there was still blood beneath her fingernails.
She’d done it, though. Three people executed, and then Mad March let her back into their barracks. Their Seven was waiting for them, and when everyone who hadn’t been executed came back, he called for their attention.
“Congratulations on passing your final exam,” he said. “Welcome to the Spades.”
~*~
Nine years later, Jelly was being lead on what was indeed a very long walk in the dark. Hatter took them up ladders, down ladders, across bridges and through tunnels. She got the impression that he was doing his best to confuse her about where it was they were going. She could have told him not to bother, but if she ended up having to go back to the Suits, it would be useful as plausible deniability.
They finally came to a halt outside one of the crumbier areas of town. Hatter knocked on the door, and the eyeslot slid open.
“I’m here to return a library book,” Hatter said. “It’s a work by Edwin and Morcar.”
Jelly looked at him in disbelief. He held up a finger, imploring her to wait.
“How does the little crocodile improve its shining tail?” asked a voice from inside.
Hatter rolled his eyes, and said quickly. “He pours the waters of the Nile of every shinning scale.”
“Be quick.” The door swung inwards, revealing a little old lady. Hatter put an arm around Jelly to usher her inside, and they stepped into what looked like a decrepit old airbus. Jelly looked around the place- they were completely enclosed by wallpapered walls.
“Good evening Owl,” Hatter said.
“I don’t see what’s so good about it,” the older woman said, hitting the decline button. The airbus dropped steeply; Jelly took hold of one of the poles and clung to it for dear life. They came to a stop after several stories of decline, but Hatter held out a hand before she could force her hand to unclench, and sure enough, the airbus dipped again before Owl put the brakes on.
“Nifty,” Jelly commented as the door on the airbus sprang open, doing a pretty good job of not showing how terrifying that had just been. She began to walk out when she was stopped by a young girl with a shotgun.
“‘Aren’t they a bit young’?” She said mockingly.
Hatter rolled his eyes, a vein standing out where Owl was digging a revolver into his neck. “She’s older than she looks.”
“Over there against the balcony,” said Owl. The girl moved out of the way to let them pass.
“Keep that right hand where I can see it!” she barked.
Jelly shot her a confused look.
“It’s just flesh and blood,” Hatter said, waggling the fingers on his right hand. Jelly transferred her confused look to him. He ignored her. “Look, why don’t you just put those things away. You know me well enough.”
“We have our orders,” Owl said.
“Of course you do,” Hatter said soothingly. “But tell me- did you like to box of comfits I brought you last week: the cured meats and the cheeses?”
Owl and the girl exchanged looks.
“They’re all gone,” the girl admitted.
“Well, Fawn,” Hatter said, his voice hardening. “If you don’t start treating me with a little more respect, you won’t get another crumb.”
The two women exchanged glances again then lowered their weapons.
“I’m sorry Hatter,” Owl apologized. “Everyone’s a little jumpy today.”
“Everyone’s always a little jumpy,” Hatter replied wearily, waving them off. “Just go tell your boss I’m here, will you?”
Fawn scurried off, Owl following at a more sedentary pace.
“Really? These are the people that are going to circumvent the White Rabbit?” Jelly asked.
“Their boss is a little more savvy,” Hatter assured.
“How much is a little?”
“A bit more than a bit.”
Jelly was about to retort when she looked over the edge of the railing. The first thing she noticed was the books. They were everywhere, piled hundreds high against the walls, used to construct tables and beds and what even looked to be little huts. The second thing she noticed were the people; sick ones being hand-fed broth, old ones playing chess, young ones dodging in and out of different stacks.
“Are we where I think we are?” Jelly asked.
“The Great Library,” Hatter confirmed. “I suppose the Queen would like nothing more than to see this all burnt to nothing.”
“That’s the standing order,” Jelly admitted. “No one said anything about people living here, though, let alone this many.”
“It’s gotten worse lately,” Hatter explained. “We do our best to feed them, but you lot aren’t exactly going easy on us.”
Jelly stared out at the refugees a little longer. “Well, we do have our quotas to deal with,” she explained, rather badly.
“Ha,” Hatter said. “Come on, let’s get your ticket out of here.”
~*~
The office the women lead them into was dark; without the chance to let sunlight it, the only source of illumination was the lamp set into the wall, which seemed almost like it was throwing more shadows than light. Then again, she didn’t need very much light to see that their boss was Dodo- very obviously the same Dodo Carlotta had told her about. Jelly continued to stare at him in dismayed disbelief as Hatter made the preliminary introductions.
“And what makes you think I would want to help your Suit, when you know her being here puts us all at risk?” Dodo asked.
“Oh please,” Hatter replied. “I’ve handled worse than this for years.”
Dodo was pompous; Hatter was flippant. Jelly had the idea that this was a pattern that could hold for hours, and was not going to end well for her at all- especially given her limited timeframe.
Dodo grinned, and confirmed her suspicions with her next words. “Do you know what rankles most about bloodsucking carpetbaggers like you?”
“Okay, hold that thought for later,” Jelly said. “Let’s talk about why I’m here. Can you get around the White Rabbit, yes or no?”
“No comment,” Dodo replied snidely.
Oh, frag this. If she was going to sell out her deck, it wasn’t going to be to someone who treated himself to a platter of baked clams while his charges starved. And she certainly wasn’t going to entrust her father’s safety to such a man.
“Well, that’s helpful,” Jelly said, and turned to Hatter. “Is there anyone else we could try?”
“Sorry,” Hatter said. “This is as high up as I go.”
“You don’t have lower contacts in another branch?”
“None that aren’t too low down to be of use,” Hatter replied, before repeating, more genuinely. “Sorry.”
“Fair enough,” she said, and turned back to Dodo, who looked about three ticks away from shooting them. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Dodo growled.
“Do you have contacts in another branch?” Jelly said, slowly, as though speaking to a child. “I’m not dealing with you.”
Her assumption would be that he did have contacts- the Resistance wasn’t about to lose hold of the Great Library. If the literature she confiscated was to be believed, the fact that it was still standing and full of forbidden knowledge was proof that when the Resistance won there would be something untouched left for them to build on.
Dodo’s face purpled, and she heard Hatter shift behind her. “What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Listen: I am the Ten of Spades,” Jelly said, only sort of ignoring Hatter for the moment. “The information I hold is more than enough for you to buy yourselves a very wide window of opportunity for all sorts of mischief. You could steal the Suit’s stores of food, lay ambushes for their patrols, and hijack their Scarabs. You might even be able to take back the city, if you have the right resources. That should be more than enough incentive for you to put me in contact with someone competent.”
“I am astounded,” Dodo ground out. “By your sheer gall.”
“And if it’s not I’ll wander downstairs and start telling people about how you’ve managed to maintain that figure in the middle of this pinch we’re having,” Jelly added.
“Do you really think that we haven’t heard that lie a thousand times over?” Dodo asked.
“I think the previous times you’ve heard it, there were details missing about what you ordered, what you paid with, who you talked to, and where you went,” Jelly told him.
“I’d be interested in knowing that,” Hatter said, as Dodo’s eyes went instinctively to where Fawn and Owl were standing, nervously clutching their guns. “Hell, if you’re willing to share, some of my other contacts might actually be useful, what with Resistance in-fighting being what it is.”
“Or I could hold you here and make you tell everything,” Dodo threatened.
“So we can cut him out completely,” Jelly said, making a show of ignoring Dodo while slipping her hand under her blouse to curl around the gun she had holstered under her arm.
“Well it would cause a lot of bother,” Hatter explained. “He does have a great deal of resources at his disposal and could probably cause a right fuss if he wanted. But, as long as we don’t have other options, it’s certainly doable.”
“You back-stabbing, slimy little-” Dodo began, but stopped abruptly as Jelly reached the limit of her patience for bluster, pulled out her gun, and aimed it at him.
“If you would be so kind as to give me a straight answer?” Jelly said pointedly.
Dodo replied by whipping out a gun of his own.
“Okay,” Hatter said, putting his hand down on the desk between them. “This is going to get us exactly nowhere. Why don’t you both put your guns down? You’re scaring the girls.”
“Oh shut up, you craven-”
“No, you shut up,” Hatter said. “You know I don’t let you hassle my clients like this, Dodo.”
“I’ll give you twice your usual fee to forget about that,” Dodo replied.
Well, shit. She hadn’t exactly come prepared to bargain with anything other than information. If Hatter was here for the wealth, then she was out numbered at least four to one, and probably fragged. Thank God and common sense she’d come armed.
“Oh good, you’re open to bargaining,” Hatter replied. “So, here’s a deal then- Jelly keeps those little details to herself, and you pass along news to Caterpillar or Tortoise or whoever you like and have them send an agent round to my shop.”
“I’m not paying you for that,” Dodo ground out.
For a moment Jelly was sure that would sway him. But after a moment of frowning, during which Jelly kept sneaking looks at Hatter out of the corner of her eye while keeping her gun on Dodo, he nodded with visible reluctance.
“Okay,” Hatter said, and holding out both hands, forced their guns down and away from each other. They stared at one another for a moment, then put their weapons back in their holsters. Jelly straightened her blouse back out, and caught Hatter giving her an odd look.
“What?” she demanded.
“Do you have anything else under there?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered succinctly.
“Right,” he said, pressing his lips together and turning back to Dodo. “So, we’ll be leaving now. Pleasure doing business, as always.”
“Get out,” Dodo said.
Hatter rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and jerked his head towards the door, in case she hadn’t got the hint that it was time to go. They walked back to the airbus, Fawn and Owl trailing behind.
“Is he really going down to a pub?” Owl asked as the airbus spluttered its way upwards.
“Yes,” Jelly replied. Hatter sent her a warning look, and then smiled at Owl.
“Try not to think about it too much,” he said. “Oh, and, by the way.” He shifted, and pulled two small wheels of cheese from the pocket inside the back of his jacket. “Make sure Fawn gets one of these, will you?”
The airbus came to a halt, and they stepped out into a fog.
“Right then,” Hatter said, turning left. “Let’s go.”
“Wouldn’t this way be quicker?” Jelly asked, jerking her head towards the right.
Hatter looked at her for a minute. “You know exactly where we are, don’t you?”
“I have an ineffable sense of direction,” Jelly said.
“Well, humor me a bit and let me try my hand at effing it, will you?” Hatter replied, starting off. Jelly sighed, but followed close behind.
~*~
They made their way back to the shop after a very twisty and confusing walk that did absolutely nothing but ensure that by the end of it Jelly was damp, shivering, and running a serious risk of losing her grip on the ladders with her numb fingers and falling to her death. She didn’t though, and they reached Hatter’s Tea Shop without incident.
“In you go then,” Hatter said, holding the door to his office open for her. Jelly pushed herself gratefully off the ladder and entered his office. She’d been here a few times before, asking questions about this suspect or the other: it was a cozy place, done up in a style that wasn’t quite neo-Atlantian and boasted several actual living plants rather than the fake ones that decked the state’s buildings.
“Can I borrow your bathroom?” Jelly asked.
“Only if you promise to give it back,” Hatter replied.
Jelly rolled her eyes as she closed the door behind her.
That definitely could have gone better, she mused. And she had certainly not done anything to help with her deadline issue. It might take more time than she had to set up contact with another branch of the Resistance, especially if it was Tortoise’s branch in the hills. She couldn’t say that she knew very much about the Resistance’s politics (other than that they were against the Queen, naturally) but she doubted very much that the city cells had a good enough handle on the country cells to get a message through in a timely manner. Caterpillar was, from what she could tell, somewhere in the city, and there were other players, subordinate to him but still big enough in their own right to cause a major nuisance. She could very easily end up speaking with Lory or Eaglet, and bypass the Queen’s Most Wanted Number One and Two altogether.
“You alright in there?” Hatter called through the door.
“Fine,” Jelly replied. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
~*~
Hatter was waiting for her, it seemed. There was a cup full of something brown and steaming on the desk, a chair pulled out in invitation. Hatter himself was seated on his throne-like swivel chair on the other side, already sipping from his cup.
“Well, sit down,” he said, indicating the chair. Jelly sat, but with Carlotta’s trick still in the forefront of her mind, she didn’t touch the tea.
“I probably should have asked you this before,” she said. “But what exactly are you looking to get out of this?”
“Before your bit with the blackmail? A book, and maybe a jump in credibility, though with Dodo that would likely require the Queen’s head on a platter,” Hatter told her, pausing to take another sip of tea. “Now? More useful contacts. I’ve gone just about as far as I can go with Dodo, I think. I’d like to see what other opportunities there are.”
“Fair enough,” Jelly said, nodding.
“Though,” Hatter continued. “I could certainly be persuaded to be a little more proactive in aiding in your interests, if you were to drop a hint or two as to where Dodo’s been getting his padding?”
He waited expectantly. Jelly stifled a yawn and weighed her options- not that she needed that long. She needed Hatter’s help, Dodo was probably angry at her no matter what she did, and Carlotta would need another source of income with Jelly gone anyway.
Actually, now that she thought about it “My advice would be for you to give Carlotta a raise.”
Hatter blinked, and then grinned. “Oh, so you’d be Pension Plan then?”
“Oh good, you are Mr. Honesty,” Jelly replied.
Hatter laughed. “I can’t say I’ve ever been called that before.”
“Really? That’s a shock,” Jelly replied, and then yawned behind her hand when he started laughing again.
“You’re not touching your tea,” he pointed out when his laughter had died down.
“No,” Jelly said, biting back another yawn.
Hatter gave her a once over, and then said. “I didn’t spike it or anything, you know.”
“No, I’m just not thirsty,” Jelly lied.
Hatter rolled his eyes, then grabbed her cup and took a sip. “There, see?”
“Yay, backwash,” Jelly replied, not quite managing to hide her yawn that time.
“Oh, drink up,” Hatter said. “There are people starving just down the street.”
“Did you steal that line from your mother?” Jelly asked.
“As a matter of fact she gave it to me.”
“How kind of her.”
Hatter looked between her and her cup of tea, still sitting before her and steaming slightly, and managed to miss her next yawn. “You’re in an uffish mood.”
Jelly rolled her eyes and took the damn teacup. It was something she could hide her yawning behind, at any rate.
With conversation deflected off the relatively painless subject of the tea, Jelly felt the need to cast about for something safe to talk about. Hatter was clever enough to have run circles around her and the rest of the police deck for years, which meant that he was plenty keen enough to milk her for information as long as she was stuck with him. She didn’t want to give anything more of her situation away until she had to. She would, however, like to know a little bit more about Hatter’s.
So, she thought to herself as she took a cautious sip, what do I know about Hatter?
Not very much, she had to admit. Her first impression of Hatter had been of someone who was intelligent if not especially wily, a bit vain and cocky, but also rather affable, to the point of being downright beamish. Now she had to reassess: Hatter was a savvy juggler, who might be justified in his vanity and cockiness, and had a talent for putting people at ease. He also made a very good cup of tea. Jelly took a slightly larger gulp.
“There, see?” Hatter said. “Like I was going to spoil Earl Grey with something extra. It’s as good as a dose of Comfort, and only half as addictive, but at least four times as expensive.”
“And illegal.”
“Oh fie, now you’re going to have to arrest me.”
Jelly hummed. “Maybe later.”
Hatter gave her a rather lecherous smile. Jelly shook her head, and decided to appeal to his vanity.
“You must have been laughing at us,” Jelly said, stifling another yawn. “All this time you’ve been with the Resistance, and none of us ever thought to question you.”
“It works better that way,” Hatter said. “And I prefer it to the alternative. If I had both sides questioning me, I’d be bankrupt from bribes.”
Jelly made to reply, but ended up yawning hugely instead.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s been kind of a long day.”
“They don’t teach you how to deal with those in Spade school?” he asked.
“Of course. It’s just been a long day on top of long days,” Jelly yawned into her teacup, and then took another drink. Leaf tea normally had caffeine in it, and that would keep her awake, right?
Hatter gave her a once over. “Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t I show you where I hide my Resistance-seeking clients?”
Surprisingly, there wasn’t anything sexual about either his offer or his glance, but Jelly decided to act as though there was anyway. It was just easier to keep things in their established pattern.
“And after that are you going to show me your etchings?” she asked.
“Would you like to see my etchings?” Hatter countered, swinging back into flirt mode.
“Maybe after I arrest you,” Jelly replied.
“That’ll make for an interesting time.” Hatter stood, placing his empty teacup down as he did so. He turned a set of metal blinds that hung down from the partially-absorbed columns that lined the wall behind his desk, and pulled one up, revealing several shelves of contraband- leaf tea and books. He stuck his hand all the way to the back, and with a dull grinding sound, the shelves swung to the sides.
“Come on,” Hatter called, sticking one leg inside.
Jelly rose and followed him, leaving her mostly-full cup behind.
~*~
Hatter had just managed to light a small gas lamp as she finally reached the bottom of the ladder. It spluttered a bit, throwing his face into sharp relief, before stabilizing. Hatter turned it all the way up, and the small area became illuminated. There were books everywhere; stacked beneath the cot, forming chairs, ottomans, the table and even a sofa. Against one wall was shelving, and that was packed with food; jams and preserves, canned and dried goods of every flavor, more than enough to keep him comfortably fed for months.
“It’s normally not so crammed full,” Hatter told her. “But with you being right on my tail I had to stash as much of that load as possible, and with things with Dodo being what they are, I’ve been going for getting as much from him as possible before he cuts me off.”
“It’s certainly cozy,” she observed, casting another eye around the room. A few titles stood out amongst the furniture: The Fellowship of the Ring, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and I, Robot.
“These are from Earth,” Jelly said.
“Yeah,” Hatter replied, sounding surprised. “Sometimes members of the White Rabbit will bring them to this side to sell. The Resistance is willing to pay a lot for anything in a text medium these days, book binders and printing presses being as scarce as they are.”
Jelly nodded and fingered the letters of Issac Asimov’s name.
“I’m surprised you know enough about them to identify them on sight,” Hatter continued. “Booksellers tend to stress how careful you need to be with Oyster books, so the supply line doesn’t dry up.”
The word ‘Oyster’ jerked her out of herself, and Jelly let her hand drop back down to her side. “I’ve read a few Oyster books,” she told him. “I’m pretty sure my Dad has a copy of all of Issac Asimov’s works back home.”
Hatter visibly filed that information away; Jelly declined to clarify that by home she meant ‘a little yellow house on the other side of the Looking Glass’.
“Tell you what,” Hatter said. “It’ll be a while before we hear back from anyone. Why don’t you make yourself comfy down here, and I’ll let you know when word arrives.”
Jelly weighed her options once more, but before she could finish, there was a bang and the sound of Hatter’s floor manager, Dormie, yelling about the Tea shipment arriving filtered down into the safe room.
“Hold on just a tick,” Hatter said, making his way past her and up the ladder. There was another dull grinding sound as the shelves moved back into place, and the Hatter drew the blinds back down, sealing her inside.
There was no harm in just resting for a bit, Jelly decided, and passed over the cot in favor of the sofa. Surprisingly, the books didn’t shift under her weight. She’d half expected them to fall apart at her touch, but then again, she supposed that the people in the Library must manage the whole furniture made of books thing daily on a daily basis.
She thought about the children she’d seen darting in and out amongst the stacks, and wondered if Hatter had once been one of them. She could believe that of him; she could believe anything of him today.
And with that not-quite-comforting though, she nodded off.
It wasn’t a decision she’d made lightly. There were four different types of Suits, and although you had to be appointed to the Hearts, if she’d really wanted to dress up and fawn over the Queen all day, she could have certainly used her friendship with Jack to that end. She could have been a Club; Cricket and Grace were going to be, and there were much worse bosses she could have than Darrel. She could have been a Diamond as well, and taken snatches of conversation with Oysters when they woke up.
There were also the sub-Suits, which combined aspects of different Suits. The Lizards were maintenance people, but the fact that they worked in the city necessitated that they master the basics of self-defense, meaning that they were not quite Clubs, and even less Spades. The Eggmen worked with Oysters, which was a Diamond thing but the high degree of technical knowledge they needed meant that they required some Club training as well. Most people expected her to become an Eggman; she had the marks, and she had her father’s footsteps before her.
But she couldn’t help but remember the stories she had heard about her father’s attempt to free her mother. He’d put up a good fight, but in the end, he couldn’t stand against trained fighters. If it came down to it, she would need to.
That left the White Rabbit, a fighting force operating out of the Oyster’s world, or the Spades. In the end, she’d chosen the Spades; as a White Rabbit she would have access to an exit out of Wonderland, of course, but she would also be spending most of her time out of contact with the Casino in general and her father in particular. She needed to be close by, and thus, she needed to be a Spade.
Fletcher raised an eyebrow as she looked over her application. “Are you sure this is what you want, Jelly?”
“Yes, ace,” she replied.
“Are you sure you don’t want to change this? Become a White Rabbit, or even a Lizard?” she asked.
“No, ace.”
“Jellybean,” her teacher said. “You aren’t thinking this through. You’ve been watching the Spades closely- you know that women in the Suit don’t generally last long, and they don’t succeed.”
“I’ll be different.” Jelly replied, and then hastily added “Ace.”
“Jelly, women in the Spade suit have a tendency to be executed- the Queen often finds them to be insubordinate and liable to undermine her power,” Fletcher told bluntly. “Think about your father. Do you know what that would do to him?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Jelly replied. “As I said, I’ll be different.”
Fletcher sighed, and stamped her approval. “It’s your funeral. Don’t expect me not to tell you I told you so at it.”
She’d regretted that decision exactly once. Oh, she had plenty of regrets for what she’d done as a Spade, but as for being one, it was just the one time.
It had been about three months into her training, when they’d been woken up for what they thought was a routine morning inspection. There had been plenty of those, exercises in pointlessness and boredom that somehow managed to be exhausting. They stood out on the execution grounds on the Casino’s cloistered roof, eyes forward and bodies obeying whatever commands the Seven in charge of their training would bark out, mentally squinting at clouds until they resembled bandersnatches, or trying to count the axes mounted on the wall.
This morning was different. No sooner had they arranged themselves into formation when Mad March came out from the holding cells, grinning in a way that benefited his mania, and dragging Fletcher by the hair.
“Good morning kiddies!” he said cheerfully, throwing her down by a stump. He unhooked an axe from his belt, and positioned it over her; they could hear her sobbing clearly from the other end of roof. “Today, you get to learn how to kill!”
He brought the axe down with a resounding thump. Blood spurted out of the cut, soaking into the stump and spilling over onto the ground. Fletcher’s head stayed in place for a moment, before rolling to the ground.
The Spades-in-training stared, horrified. She heard one of the boys in the back retch, but Jelly couldn’t make herself look away from March and the body to see who it was.
“Okay kids, triple up!” The assassin called, his overly-long front teeth gleaming in the early morning light. “One stump and one axe per group- we’ve got an entire dungeon full of people whose heads need to roll.”
For a moment nobody moved. Then Mad March’s grin became impossibly larger and he began to shift his axe from hand to hand. “And if anyone disagrees, they get to deal with me.”
She supposed it couldn’t have taken very long, though she couldn’t have told you how long it took. She remembered it as being noisy, mostly. Mad March was constantly yelling out helpful hints like “Don’t feel bad it you can’t severe the head in one blow!” and “If they’re struggling, just have one of your mates sit on them!” Some of the Spades in training broke down, crying and heaving, until March put them out of his misery. The prisoners were yelling too: pleas for mercy and insistences of innocence, of course, but there were other, more personal cries. Alban’s mother kept telling him not to look. Honoria yelled at Jelly from across the grounds to let Grace know that she was sorry. One of her prisoners made a lucky break and lunged at March, spitting insults about the assassin’s father until she was dragged back to her stump. It was messy too; for weeks later, she’d go running to the nearest sink, convinced there was still blood beneath her fingernails.
She’d done it, though. Three people executed, and then Mad March let her back into their barracks. Their Seven was waiting for them, and when everyone who hadn’t been executed came back, he called for their attention.
“Congratulations on passing your final exam,” he said. “Welcome to the Spades.”
~*~
Nine years later, Jelly was being lead on what was indeed a very long walk in the dark. Hatter took them up ladders, down ladders, across bridges and through tunnels. She got the impression that he was doing his best to confuse her about where it was they were going. She could have told him not to bother, but if she ended up having to go back to the Suits, it would be useful as plausible deniability.
They finally came to a halt outside one of the crumbier areas of town. Hatter knocked on the door, and the eyeslot slid open.
“I’m here to return a library book,” Hatter said. “It’s a work by Edwin and Morcar.”
Jelly looked at him in disbelief. He held up a finger, imploring her to wait.
“How does the little crocodile improve its shining tail?” asked a voice from inside.
Hatter rolled his eyes, and said quickly. “He pours the waters of the Nile of every shinning scale.”
“Be quick.” The door swung inwards, revealing a little old lady. Hatter put an arm around Jelly to usher her inside, and they stepped into what looked like a decrepit old airbus. Jelly looked around the place- they were completely enclosed by wallpapered walls.
“Good evening Owl,” Hatter said.
“I don’t see what’s so good about it,” the older woman said, hitting the decline button. The airbus dropped steeply; Jelly took hold of one of the poles and clung to it for dear life. They came to a stop after several stories of decline, but Hatter held out a hand before she could force her hand to unclench, and sure enough, the airbus dipped again before Owl put the brakes on.
“Nifty,” Jelly commented as the door on the airbus sprang open, doing a pretty good job of not showing how terrifying that had just been. She began to walk out when she was stopped by a young girl with a shotgun.
“‘Aren’t they a bit young’?” She said mockingly.
Hatter rolled his eyes, a vein standing out where Owl was digging a revolver into his neck. “She’s older than she looks.”
“Over there against the balcony,” said Owl. The girl moved out of the way to let them pass.
“Keep that right hand where I can see it!” she barked.
Jelly shot her a confused look.
“It’s just flesh and blood,” Hatter said, waggling the fingers on his right hand. Jelly transferred her confused look to him. He ignored her. “Look, why don’t you just put those things away. You know me well enough.”
“We have our orders,” Owl said.
“Of course you do,” Hatter said soothingly. “But tell me- did you like to box of comfits I brought you last week: the cured meats and the cheeses?”
Owl and the girl exchanged looks.
“They’re all gone,” the girl admitted.
“Well, Fawn,” Hatter said, his voice hardening. “If you don’t start treating me with a little more respect, you won’t get another crumb.”
The two women exchanged glances again then lowered their weapons.
“I’m sorry Hatter,” Owl apologized. “Everyone’s a little jumpy today.”
“Everyone’s always a little jumpy,” Hatter replied wearily, waving them off. “Just go tell your boss I’m here, will you?”
Fawn scurried off, Owl following at a more sedentary pace.
“Really? These are the people that are going to circumvent the White Rabbit?” Jelly asked.
“Their boss is a little more savvy,” Hatter assured.
“How much is a little?”
“A bit more than a bit.”
Jelly was about to retort when she looked over the edge of the railing. The first thing she noticed was the books. They were everywhere, piled hundreds high against the walls, used to construct tables and beds and what even looked to be little huts. The second thing she noticed were the people; sick ones being hand-fed broth, old ones playing chess, young ones dodging in and out of different stacks.
“Are we where I think we are?” Jelly asked.
“The Great Library,” Hatter confirmed. “I suppose the Queen would like nothing more than to see this all burnt to nothing.”
“That’s the standing order,” Jelly admitted. “No one said anything about people living here, though, let alone this many.”
“It’s gotten worse lately,” Hatter explained. “We do our best to feed them, but you lot aren’t exactly going easy on us.”
Jelly stared out at the refugees a little longer. “Well, we do have our quotas to deal with,” she explained, rather badly.
“Ha,” Hatter said. “Come on, let’s get your ticket out of here.”
~*~
The office the women lead them into was dark; without the chance to let sunlight it, the only source of illumination was the lamp set into the wall, which seemed almost like it was throwing more shadows than light. Then again, she didn’t need very much light to see that their boss was Dodo- very obviously the same Dodo Carlotta had told her about. Jelly continued to stare at him in dismayed disbelief as Hatter made the preliminary introductions.
“And what makes you think I would want to help your Suit, when you know her being here puts us all at risk?” Dodo asked.
“Oh please,” Hatter replied. “I’ve handled worse than this for years.”
Dodo was pompous; Hatter was flippant. Jelly had the idea that this was a pattern that could hold for hours, and was not going to end well for her at all- especially given her limited timeframe.
Dodo grinned, and confirmed her suspicions with her next words. “Do you know what rankles most about bloodsucking carpetbaggers like you?”
“Okay, hold that thought for later,” Jelly said. “Let’s talk about why I’m here. Can you get around the White Rabbit, yes or no?”
“No comment,” Dodo replied snidely.
Oh, frag this. If she was going to sell out her deck, it wasn’t going to be to someone who treated himself to a platter of baked clams while his charges starved. And she certainly wasn’t going to entrust her father’s safety to such a man.
“Well, that’s helpful,” Jelly said, and turned to Hatter. “Is there anyone else we could try?”
“Sorry,” Hatter said. “This is as high up as I go.”
“You don’t have lower contacts in another branch?”
“None that aren’t too low down to be of use,” Hatter replied, before repeating, more genuinely. “Sorry.”
“Fair enough,” she said, and turned back to Dodo, who looked about three ticks away from shooting them. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Dodo growled.
“Do you have contacts in another branch?” Jelly said, slowly, as though speaking to a child. “I’m not dealing with you.”
Her assumption would be that he did have contacts- the Resistance wasn’t about to lose hold of the Great Library. If the literature she confiscated was to be believed, the fact that it was still standing and full of forbidden knowledge was proof that when the Resistance won there would be something untouched left for them to build on.
Dodo’s face purpled, and she heard Hatter shift behind her. “What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Listen: I am the Ten of Spades,” Jelly said, only sort of ignoring Hatter for the moment. “The information I hold is more than enough for you to buy yourselves a very wide window of opportunity for all sorts of mischief. You could steal the Suit’s stores of food, lay ambushes for their patrols, and hijack their Scarabs. You might even be able to take back the city, if you have the right resources. That should be more than enough incentive for you to put me in contact with someone competent.”
“I am astounded,” Dodo ground out. “By your sheer gall.”
“And if it’s not I’ll wander downstairs and start telling people about how you’ve managed to maintain that figure in the middle of this pinch we’re having,” Jelly added.
“Do you really think that we haven’t heard that lie a thousand times over?” Dodo asked.
“I think the previous times you’ve heard it, there were details missing about what you ordered, what you paid with, who you talked to, and where you went,” Jelly told him.
“I’d be interested in knowing that,” Hatter said, as Dodo’s eyes went instinctively to where Fawn and Owl were standing, nervously clutching their guns. “Hell, if you’re willing to share, some of my other contacts might actually be useful, what with Resistance in-fighting being what it is.”
“Or I could hold you here and make you tell everything,” Dodo threatened.
“So we can cut him out completely,” Jelly said, making a show of ignoring Dodo while slipping her hand under her blouse to curl around the gun she had holstered under her arm.
“Well it would cause a lot of bother,” Hatter explained. “He does have a great deal of resources at his disposal and could probably cause a right fuss if he wanted. But, as long as we don’t have other options, it’s certainly doable.”
“You back-stabbing, slimy little-” Dodo began, but stopped abruptly as Jelly reached the limit of her patience for bluster, pulled out her gun, and aimed it at him.
“If you would be so kind as to give me a straight answer?” Jelly said pointedly.
Dodo replied by whipping out a gun of his own.
“Okay,” Hatter said, putting his hand down on the desk between them. “This is going to get us exactly nowhere. Why don’t you both put your guns down? You’re scaring the girls.”
“Oh shut up, you craven-”
“No, you shut up,” Hatter said. “You know I don’t let you hassle my clients like this, Dodo.”
“I’ll give you twice your usual fee to forget about that,” Dodo replied.
Well, shit. She hadn’t exactly come prepared to bargain with anything other than information. If Hatter was here for the wealth, then she was out numbered at least four to one, and probably fragged. Thank God and common sense she’d come armed.
“Oh good, you’re open to bargaining,” Hatter replied. “So, here’s a deal then- Jelly keeps those little details to herself, and you pass along news to Caterpillar or Tortoise or whoever you like and have them send an agent round to my shop.”
“I’m not paying you for that,” Dodo ground out.
For a moment Jelly was sure that would sway him. But after a moment of frowning, during which Jelly kept sneaking looks at Hatter out of the corner of her eye while keeping her gun on Dodo, he nodded with visible reluctance.
“Okay,” Hatter said, and holding out both hands, forced their guns down and away from each other. They stared at one another for a moment, then put their weapons back in their holsters. Jelly straightened her blouse back out, and caught Hatter giving her an odd look.
“What?” she demanded.
“Do you have anything else under there?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered succinctly.
“Right,” he said, pressing his lips together and turning back to Dodo. “So, we’ll be leaving now. Pleasure doing business, as always.”
“Get out,” Dodo said.
Hatter rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and jerked his head towards the door, in case she hadn’t got the hint that it was time to go. They walked back to the airbus, Fawn and Owl trailing behind.
“Is he really going down to a pub?” Owl asked as the airbus spluttered its way upwards.
“Yes,” Jelly replied. Hatter sent her a warning look, and then smiled at Owl.
“Try not to think about it too much,” he said. “Oh, and, by the way.” He shifted, and pulled two small wheels of cheese from the pocket inside the back of his jacket. “Make sure Fawn gets one of these, will you?”
The airbus came to a halt, and they stepped out into a fog.
“Right then,” Hatter said, turning left. “Let’s go.”
“Wouldn’t this way be quicker?” Jelly asked, jerking her head towards the right.
Hatter looked at her for a minute. “You know exactly where we are, don’t you?”
“I have an ineffable sense of direction,” Jelly said.
“Well, humor me a bit and let me try my hand at effing it, will you?” Hatter replied, starting off. Jelly sighed, but followed close behind.
~*~
They made their way back to the shop after a very twisty and confusing walk that did absolutely nothing but ensure that by the end of it Jelly was damp, shivering, and running a serious risk of losing her grip on the ladders with her numb fingers and falling to her death. She didn’t though, and they reached Hatter’s Tea Shop without incident.
“In you go then,” Hatter said, holding the door to his office open for her. Jelly pushed herself gratefully off the ladder and entered his office. She’d been here a few times before, asking questions about this suspect or the other: it was a cozy place, done up in a style that wasn’t quite neo-Atlantian and boasted several actual living plants rather than the fake ones that decked the state’s buildings.
“Can I borrow your bathroom?” Jelly asked.
“Only if you promise to give it back,” Hatter replied.
Jelly rolled her eyes as she closed the door behind her.
That definitely could have gone better, she mused. And she had certainly not done anything to help with her deadline issue. It might take more time than she had to set up contact with another branch of the Resistance, especially if it was Tortoise’s branch in the hills. She couldn’t say that she knew very much about the Resistance’s politics (other than that they were against the Queen, naturally) but she doubted very much that the city cells had a good enough handle on the country cells to get a message through in a timely manner. Caterpillar was, from what she could tell, somewhere in the city, and there were other players, subordinate to him but still big enough in their own right to cause a major nuisance. She could very easily end up speaking with Lory or Eaglet, and bypass the Queen’s Most Wanted Number One and Two altogether.
“You alright in there?” Hatter called through the door.
“Fine,” Jelly replied. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
~*~
Hatter was waiting for her, it seemed. There was a cup full of something brown and steaming on the desk, a chair pulled out in invitation. Hatter himself was seated on his throne-like swivel chair on the other side, already sipping from his cup.
“Well, sit down,” he said, indicating the chair. Jelly sat, but with Carlotta’s trick still in the forefront of her mind, she didn’t touch the tea.
“I probably should have asked you this before,” she said. “But what exactly are you looking to get out of this?”
“Before your bit with the blackmail? A book, and maybe a jump in credibility, though with Dodo that would likely require the Queen’s head on a platter,” Hatter told her, pausing to take another sip of tea. “Now? More useful contacts. I’ve gone just about as far as I can go with Dodo, I think. I’d like to see what other opportunities there are.”
“Fair enough,” Jelly said, nodding.
“Though,” Hatter continued. “I could certainly be persuaded to be a little more proactive in aiding in your interests, if you were to drop a hint or two as to where Dodo’s been getting his padding?”
He waited expectantly. Jelly stifled a yawn and weighed her options- not that she needed that long. She needed Hatter’s help, Dodo was probably angry at her no matter what she did, and Carlotta would need another source of income with Jelly gone anyway.
Actually, now that she thought about it “My advice would be for you to give Carlotta a raise.”
Hatter blinked, and then grinned. “Oh, so you’d be Pension Plan then?”
“Oh good, you are Mr. Honesty,” Jelly replied.
Hatter laughed. “I can’t say I’ve ever been called that before.”
“Really? That’s a shock,” Jelly replied, and then yawned behind her hand when he started laughing again.
“You’re not touching your tea,” he pointed out when his laughter had died down.
“No,” Jelly said, biting back another yawn.
Hatter gave her a once over, and then said. “I didn’t spike it or anything, you know.”
“No, I’m just not thirsty,” Jelly lied.
Hatter rolled his eyes, then grabbed her cup and took a sip. “There, see?”
“Yay, backwash,” Jelly replied, not quite managing to hide her yawn that time.
“Oh, drink up,” Hatter said. “There are people starving just down the street.”
“Did you steal that line from your mother?” Jelly asked.
“As a matter of fact she gave it to me.”
“How kind of her.”
Hatter looked between her and her cup of tea, still sitting before her and steaming slightly, and managed to miss her next yawn. “You’re in an uffish mood.”
Jelly rolled her eyes and took the damn teacup. It was something she could hide her yawning behind, at any rate.
With conversation deflected off the relatively painless subject of the tea, Jelly felt the need to cast about for something safe to talk about. Hatter was clever enough to have run circles around her and the rest of the police deck for years, which meant that he was plenty keen enough to milk her for information as long as she was stuck with him. She didn’t want to give anything more of her situation away until she had to. She would, however, like to know a little bit more about Hatter’s.
So, she thought to herself as she took a cautious sip, what do I know about Hatter?
Not very much, she had to admit. Her first impression of Hatter had been of someone who was intelligent if not especially wily, a bit vain and cocky, but also rather affable, to the point of being downright beamish. Now she had to reassess: Hatter was a savvy juggler, who might be justified in his vanity and cockiness, and had a talent for putting people at ease. He also made a very good cup of tea. Jelly took a slightly larger gulp.
“There, see?” Hatter said. “Like I was going to spoil Earl Grey with something extra. It’s as good as a dose of Comfort, and only half as addictive, but at least four times as expensive.”
“And illegal.”
“Oh fie, now you’re going to have to arrest me.”
Jelly hummed. “Maybe later.”
Hatter gave her a rather lecherous smile. Jelly shook her head, and decided to appeal to his vanity.
“You must have been laughing at us,” Jelly said, stifling another yawn. “All this time you’ve been with the Resistance, and none of us ever thought to question you.”
“It works better that way,” Hatter said. “And I prefer it to the alternative. If I had both sides questioning me, I’d be bankrupt from bribes.”
Jelly made to reply, but ended up yawning hugely instead.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s been kind of a long day.”
“They don’t teach you how to deal with those in Spade school?” he asked.
“Of course. It’s just been a long day on top of long days,” Jelly yawned into her teacup, and then took another drink. Leaf tea normally had caffeine in it, and that would keep her awake, right?
Hatter gave her a once over. “Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t I show you where I hide my Resistance-seeking clients?”
Surprisingly, there wasn’t anything sexual about either his offer or his glance, but Jelly decided to act as though there was anyway. It was just easier to keep things in their established pattern.
“And after that are you going to show me your etchings?” she asked.
“Would you like to see my etchings?” Hatter countered, swinging back into flirt mode.
“Maybe after I arrest you,” Jelly replied.
“That’ll make for an interesting time.” Hatter stood, placing his empty teacup down as he did so. He turned a set of metal blinds that hung down from the partially-absorbed columns that lined the wall behind his desk, and pulled one up, revealing several shelves of contraband- leaf tea and books. He stuck his hand all the way to the back, and with a dull grinding sound, the shelves swung to the sides.
“Come on,” Hatter called, sticking one leg inside.
Jelly rose and followed him, leaving her mostly-full cup behind.
~*~
Hatter had just managed to light a small gas lamp as she finally reached the bottom of the ladder. It spluttered a bit, throwing his face into sharp relief, before stabilizing. Hatter turned it all the way up, and the small area became illuminated. There were books everywhere; stacked beneath the cot, forming chairs, ottomans, the table and even a sofa. Against one wall was shelving, and that was packed with food; jams and preserves, canned and dried goods of every flavor, more than enough to keep him comfortably fed for months.
“It’s normally not so crammed full,” Hatter told her. “But with you being right on my tail I had to stash as much of that load as possible, and with things with Dodo being what they are, I’ve been going for getting as much from him as possible before he cuts me off.”
“It’s certainly cozy,” she observed, casting another eye around the room. A few titles stood out amongst the furniture: The Fellowship of the Ring, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and I, Robot.
“These are from Earth,” Jelly said.
“Yeah,” Hatter replied, sounding surprised. “Sometimes members of the White Rabbit will bring them to this side to sell. The Resistance is willing to pay a lot for anything in a text medium these days, book binders and printing presses being as scarce as they are.”
Jelly nodded and fingered the letters of Issac Asimov’s name.
“I’m surprised you know enough about them to identify them on sight,” Hatter continued. “Booksellers tend to stress how careful you need to be with Oyster books, so the supply line doesn’t dry up.”
The word ‘Oyster’ jerked her out of herself, and Jelly let her hand drop back down to her side. “I’ve read a few Oyster books,” she told him. “I’m pretty sure my Dad has a copy of all of Issac Asimov’s works back home.”
Hatter visibly filed that information away; Jelly declined to clarify that by home she meant ‘a little yellow house on the other side of the Looking Glass’.
“Tell you what,” Hatter said. “It’ll be a while before we hear back from anyone. Why don’t you make yourself comfy down here, and I’ll let you know when word arrives.”
Jelly weighed her options once more, but before she could finish, there was a bang and the sound of Hatter’s floor manager, Dormie, yelling about the Tea shipment arriving filtered down into the safe room.
“Hold on just a tick,” Hatter said, making his way past her and up the ladder. There was another dull grinding sound as the shelves moved back into place, and the Hatter drew the blinds back down, sealing her inside.
There was no harm in just resting for a bit, Jelly decided, and passed over the cot in favor of the sofa. Surprisingly, the books didn’t shift under her weight. She’d half expected them to fall apart at her touch, but then again, she supposed that the people in the Library must manage the whole furniture made of books thing daily on a daily basis.
She thought about the children she’d seen darting in and out amongst the stacks, and wondered if Hatter had once been one of them. She could believe that of him; she could believe anything of him today.
And with that not-quite-comforting though, she nodded off.