Through a Looking Glass Darkly: Ace of Pentacles, Part Two
For example, in her dream she sat at her kitchen table in her little yellow house. To her left was Dormie, asleep as always, to her right was Hatter, his hat blown to comically large proportions, and across from her was Mad March, huge, fuzzy rabbit ears replacing his regular ones.
“You’re dead,” she told the assassin.
“No, you’re dead,” March said, sipping something dark red from a steaming mug that proclaimed him to be The World’s Greatest Dad. It left a stain on his bunny teeth when he grinned at her.
“New cups! Move down!” Hatter cried, leaping to his feet. But the table was too small for there to be anywhere else to go, so that all he did was wake Dormie.
“Feed your head,” he urged her sleepily as Hatter sat back down, looking disappointed. “Feed your head.” Then he fell asleep again, apparently content to use a bowl full of Jell-O as a pillow.
“Anyway,” March said, munching opened mouthed on a handful of jellybeans. “You’re dead. You just know it yet.”
“No one wants new cups?” Hatter asked. “These are dirty.”
“So why don’t you wash them?” March asked
“We have guests,” Hatter pointed out. “It would be rude.”
“These cups have been dirty since Dad brought them,” March retorted. Behind him, Dinah jumped onto the countertop, eyes narrowed and ears pressed back against her head. “And you haven’t washed them yet.”
Hatter frowned, an inspected the inside of his teacup.
“What I tell you three times is true,” March said, turning back to her. But before he could go any further, Dinah gave a great hiss and pounced, landing on his head.
“Feed your head,” Dormie mumbled. March flailed, and Dinah went flying past her into the living room. Jelly turned around just in time to watch as she landed on her feet. The cat faced the table, tail twitching.
“Dinah?” she asked.
Dinah looked up at her, and grinned, pointy teeth glinting in the fluorescent light.
Then there was a tug on her leg, and she found herself upright and pinning Hatter to the wall before she had a chance to register that she was awake again.
“Oi!” Hatter protested, eyes wide.
“Sorry,” Jelly said, letting him go and taking a step back.
“No problem,” Hatter said, pulling his clothes straight. “These things happen.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to make a crack about him being irresistible, but what came out was the more serious “Next time you have to wake me up, try calling my name instead.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hatter promised, and picked up a purple velvet jacket from the floor. Jelly recognized it from his rack of clothing above them. “So, Fawn just came here; Caterpillar will have a contact for us to meet with down at Father William’s Tavern. You might want to put this on.” He held out the jacket. “It’s near midday, and still tulgey out.”
Jelly took it, and put it on as Hatter climbed back up the ladder. It was cinched around the waist, and a bit more roomy in the chest area than she really needed it to be.
“Do I want to know why you have women’s clothing laying about?” she called up the ladder.
Hatter grinned down at her. “For clothing women, of course. Hurry up!”
~*~
They had nothing to say to each other on their way to meet with Caterpillar's man; very little had changed since they'd made their way from the Great Library. Hatter was either still curled around the idea of effing her sense of direction, or lost, but in either case Jelly decided against bringing up the topic again- though, the way he'd swung their route just shy of a particularly notorious city cube had made her want to reconsider that decision. For herself, Jelly was preparing to impress a need for action on their contact; there were only so many days in a week, and she’d already used up one of them. The fog had indeed yet to burn off, and though the jacket did help, her fingers had still gone numb and she was beginning to feel the chill seep under that jacket and through her blouse when they arrived.
The heat of the tavern, generated less from the stove and more from the press of people inside hit her like a sweat-stained wall. The place was packed, Hatter threaded his arm through hers, the better to not be separated, and they made their way to the side of the entrance, letting the crowd bob their way up and down the stairs.
"Do you know what this guy looks like?" she asked him, leaning over the railing a bit, to get a better view of the crowd below. It was a lunchtime rush, probably from the mills just three stories below them, to judge by the number of dust-covered people.
"Wearing a blue jacket and a white hat," he informed her, mimicking her posture.
"I look something like this actually."
They looked down and met the grin of a dark, curly-haired man in a navy blue jacket and white trilby. He stood, pushing the chair he'd been sitting on back into a nearby table and opened a door.
"Coming?" he asked.
"Be right there," Hatter replied. The man disappeared, and he turned to her with a frown. "Did you think we were talking that loud?"
She shook her head no, and began to make her way to the stairs. Hatter followed before she could get far enough away to break contact. They pushed their way through the throngs of people, trying not to tread on too many toes. Their contact had left the door open; it lead to a staircase that spiraled downwards. Hatter pulled the door closed behind them, and they made their way down to a small, ill-lit room with a chair in its center. Their contact sat at it, facing them.
“We can speak freely here,” he told them, “Without fear of being overheard.”
“Good,” Hatter said, before she could. “I’m Hatter, this is Jellybean, and you are?”
“Call me Gryphon,” their contact said. “Have a seat.”
He gestured to the two chairs opposite him, and they sat.
“So,” Gryphon said, eyeing her intently. “What causes a Ten of Spades to defect?”
“I need a way out,” Jelly explained.
“So I’ve heard,” Gryphon said. “But I’m not sure I believe it.”
“Oh?” Jelly asked.
“No,” Gryphon replied. “I was in charge of the Resistance cell you contacted while defusing potential food riots. The way you handled yourself then didn’t speak of someone who couldn’t anticipate any problems the Queen might have with another woman in a position of authority.”
Shit. She couldn’t have stayed with the fat, incompetent one?
“They also didn’t speak of someone who would betray the people under her command for just about anything,” Gryphon continued.
“The situation’s changed,” Jelly said.
“Yes, but how?” Gryphon pressed.
“I’ll tell you when you tell me whether or not you can get through the Looking Glass without the White Rabbit noticing,” Jelly told him.
They stared at each other for a moment. Beside her, Hatter shifted, obviously looking for a way to move things along.
“We’ve had some success, moving agents to the other side,” Gryphon admitted.
“Good,” Jelly replied. “I need you to move my father there.”
Gryphon stared. Hatter turned around in his seat so that he was facing her and did much the same.
“I know you have agents in the Casino,” Jelly stated. “Mad March’s death is more than proof of that. Use them, and get him out of there.”
“You’re father’s Carpenter,” Hatter reminded her. Gryphon’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.
“And it’s killing him,” Jelly said. She turned back to Gryphon. “Look, he was never happy about doing the Queen’s dirty work, but since they relaxed the regulations for the White Rabbit, things have gotten worse.”
“If your father is so reluctant to do her work, then why doesn’t he just stop?” Gryphon asked. “Why doesn’t he contact us himself, instead of sending you to do it?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Jelly said.
Gryphon threw his arms up over his head. “Well, that’s very helpful!”
“Look,” Jelly said. “All you need to do is tell him that I’ll meet up with him and he’ll go wherever you point.”
“I don’t believe you,” Gryphon said. “If it was that easy-”
“Does this seem easy to you?” Jelly demanded, “Because from where I’m sitting it’s not. It’s really, really not.”
“Look, if you’ve got the contacts-” Hatter interrupted.
“To expose to the mind behind the Resistance’s greatest obstacle while they were all in the Casino, you mean?” Gryphon asked.
“Balanced against the information she can get you? I keep hearing that the Resistance is valuing its undercover operatives more, but somehow I doubt you care that much,” Hatter snapped back.
“What you’re asking would be the most dangerous operation we’ve attempted yet,” Gryphon said.
Shit and shit. She could just smell an ‘I need to check with my superiors’ coming.
“More dangerous than taking out Mad March?” Jelly pressed. Gryphon looked like he was going to interject, but she ignored it. “I’ll be giving you the biggest break you’ve ever gotten.”
“And your asking price is too high,” Gryphon pushed himself away from the table.
“Wait,” Jelly said, desperate. Gryphon ignored her, and made for the stairs. Jelly stood up, and followed him. “What exactly is the problem here?”
“The problem is that I cannot fathom how your father would cooperate with us,” Gryphon told her.
"You don't understand, they didn't give him a choice!" she told him. Gryphon paused, one foot on the stair. "If I weren't here, he would have found some way to end it all by now!"
There was a sudden, great sigh from the corner of the room. Behind her, Hatter jumped a little, then made his way cautiously in that direction.
"Oh don't mind me," a voice said. "I just think it's sad, that's all."
Gryphon unhooked a lamp from the wall and made his way over to the corner. "If you've got something to say, Mock, say it," he advised, his light illuminating a red-eyed, elderly man, hooked into various wires and machines.
"Well, it's not like having Carpenter in the Casino is a good thing," Mock said, sounding despondent. "And if he would be willing to go, that would make it easier to whisk him away. It seems to me that she’s asking for something that could only help us."
He sighed again, this time accompanied by the wheeze of a bellows contracting, completely out of synch with the rise and fall of his chest.
"How is that-?" Hatter began.
Gryphon waved him off. "He doesn't actually need any of this."
"Oh, you're so rude," Mock complained sadly. Gryphon rolled his eyes and moved back to the table.
"You're sure he'd come with," Gryphon asked her. "It's not just in your fancy that if we mentioned your name he'd do what we wanted?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she replied.
"Well, then, maybe we can meet you halfway," Gryphon said. "We have received word just recently that one of our agents has been captured by the White Rabbit, and we expect them to transport him to their headquarters before the day is out. In exchange for Carpenter's safe transport, I'd like you to intercept them before they can take him to the Casino. Can you do that?"
"If it gets my father out of there?" Hope vibrated in her chest; she was almost there. "Absolutely."
“You’re dead,” she told the assassin.
“No, you’re dead,” March said, sipping something dark red from a steaming mug that proclaimed him to be The World’s Greatest Dad. It left a stain on his bunny teeth when he grinned at her.
“New cups! Move down!” Hatter cried, leaping to his feet. But the table was too small for there to be anywhere else to go, so that all he did was wake Dormie.
“Feed your head,” he urged her sleepily as Hatter sat back down, looking disappointed. “Feed your head.” Then he fell asleep again, apparently content to use a bowl full of Jell-O as a pillow.
“Anyway,” March said, munching opened mouthed on a handful of jellybeans. “You’re dead. You just know it yet.”
“No one wants new cups?” Hatter asked. “These are dirty.”
“So why don’t you wash them?” March asked
“We have guests,” Hatter pointed out. “It would be rude.”
“These cups have been dirty since Dad brought them,” March retorted. Behind him, Dinah jumped onto the countertop, eyes narrowed and ears pressed back against her head. “And you haven’t washed them yet.”
Hatter frowned, an inspected the inside of his teacup.
“What I tell you three times is true,” March said, turning back to her. But before he could go any further, Dinah gave a great hiss and pounced, landing on his head.
“Feed your head,” Dormie mumbled. March flailed, and Dinah went flying past her into the living room. Jelly turned around just in time to watch as she landed on her feet. The cat faced the table, tail twitching.
“Dinah?” she asked.
Dinah looked up at her, and grinned, pointy teeth glinting in the fluorescent light.
Then there was a tug on her leg, and she found herself upright and pinning Hatter to the wall before she had a chance to register that she was awake again.
“Oi!” Hatter protested, eyes wide.
“Sorry,” Jelly said, letting him go and taking a step back.
“No problem,” Hatter said, pulling his clothes straight. “These things happen.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to make a crack about him being irresistible, but what came out was the more serious “Next time you have to wake me up, try calling my name instead.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hatter promised, and picked up a purple velvet jacket from the floor. Jelly recognized it from his rack of clothing above them. “So, Fawn just came here; Caterpillar will have a contact for us to meet with down at Father William’s Tavern. You might want to put this on.” He held out the jacket. “It’s near midday, and still tulgey out.”
Jelly took it, and put it on as Hatter climbed back up the ladder. It was cinched around the waist, and a bit more roomy in the chest area than she really needed it to be.
“Do I want to know why you have women’s clothing laying about?” she called up the ladder.
Hatter grinned down at her. “For clothing women, of course. Hurry up!”
~*~
They had nothing to say to each other on their way to meet with Caterpillar's man; very little had changed since they'd made their way from the Great Library. Hatter was either still curled around the idea of effing her sense of direction, or lost, but in either case Jelly decided against bringing up the topic again- though, the way he'd swung their route just shy of a particularly notorious city cube had made her want to reconsider that decision. For herself, Jelly was preparing to impress a need for action on their contact; there were only so many days in a week, and she’d already used up one of them. The fog had indeed yet to burn off, and though the jacket did help, her fingers had still gone numb and she was beginning to feel the chill seep under that jacket and through her blouse when they arrived.
The heat of the tavern, generated less from the stove and more from the press of people inside hit her like a sweat-stained wall. The place was packed, Hatter threaded his arm through hers, the better to not be separated, and they made their way to the side of the entrance, letting the crowd bob their way up and down the stairs.
"Do you know what this guy looks like?" she asked him, leaning over the railing a bit, to get a better view of the crowd below. It was a lunchtime rush, probably from the mills just three stories below them, to judge by the number of dust-covered people.
"Wearing a blue jacket and a white hat," he informed her, mimicking her posture.
"I look something like this actually."
They looked down and met the grin of a dark, curly-haired man in a navy blue jacket and white trilby. He stood, pushing the chair he'd been sitting on back into a nearby table and opened a door.
"Coming?" he asked.
"Be right there," Hatter replied. The man disappeared, and he turned to her with a frown. "Did you think we were talking that loud?"
She shook her head no, and began to make her way to the stairs. Hatter followed before she could get far enough away to break contact. They pushed their way through the throngs of people, trying not to tread on too many toes. Their contact had left the door open; it lead to a staircase that spiraled downwards. Hatter pulled the door closed behind them, and they made their way down to a small, ill-lit room with a chair in its center. Their contact sat at it, facing them.
“We can speak freely here,” he told them, “Without fear of being overheard.”
“Good,” Hatter said, before she could. “I’m Hatter, this is Jellybean, and you are?”
“Call me Gryphon,” their contact said. “Have a seat.”
He gestured to the two chairs opposite him, and they sat.
“So,” Gryphon said, eyeing her intently. “What causes a Ten of Spades to defect?”
“I need a way out,” Jelly explained.
“So I’ve heard,” Gryphon said. “But I’m not sure I believe it.”
“Oh?” Jelly asked.
“No,” Gryphon replied. “I was in charge of the Resistance cell you contacted while defusing potential food riots. The way you handled yourself then didn’t speak of someone who couldn’t anticipate any problems the Queen might have with another woman in a position of authority.”
Shit. She couldn’t have stayed with the fat, incompetent one?
“They also didn’t speak of someone who would betray the people under her command for just about anything,” Gryphon continued.
“The situation’s changed,” Jelly said.
“Yes, but how?” Gryphon pressed.
“I’ll tell you when you tell me whether or not you can get through the Looking Glass without the White Rabbit noticing,” Jelly told him.
They stared at each other for a moment. Beside her, Hatter shifted, obviously looking for a way to move things along.
“We’ve had some success, moving agents to the other side,” Gryphon admitted.
“Good,” Jelly replied. “I need you to move my father there.”
Gryphon stared. Hatter turned around in his seat so that he was facing her and did much the same.
“I know you have agents in the Casino,” Jelly stated. “Mad March’s death is more than proof of that. Use them, and get him out of there.”
“You’re father’s Carpenter,” Hatter reminded her. Gryphon’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.
“And it’s killing him,” Jelly said. She turned back to Gryphon. “Look, he was never happy about doing the Queen’s dirty work, but since they relaxed the regulations for the White Rabbit, things have gotten worse.”
“If your father is so reluctant to do her work, then why doesn’t he just stop?” Gryphon asked. “Why doesn’t he contact us himself, instead of sending you to do it?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Jelly said.
Gryphon threw his arms up over his head. “Well, that’s very helpful!”
“Look,” Jelly said. “All you need to do is tell him that I’ll meet up with him and he’ll go wherever you point.”
“I don’t believe you,” Gryphon said. “If it was that easy-”
“Does this seem easy to you?” Jelly demanded, “Because from where I’m sitting it’s not. It’s really, really not.”
“Look, if you’ve got the contacts-” Hatter interrupted.
“To expose to the mind behind the Resistance’s greatest obstacle while they were all in the Casino, you mean?” Gryphon asked.
“Balanced against the information she can get you? I keep hearing that the Resistance is valuing its undercover operatives more, but somehow I doubt you care that much,” Hatter snapped back.
“What you’re asking would be the most dangerous operation we’ve attempted yet,” Gryphon said.
Shit and shit. She could just smell an ‘I need to check with my superiors’ coming.
“More dangerous than taking out Mad March?” Jelly pressed. Gryphon looked like he was going to interject, but she ignored it. “I’ll be giving you the biggest break you’ve ever gotten.”
“And your asking price is too high,” Gryphon pushed himself away from the table.
“Wait,” Jelly said, desperate. Gryphon ignored her, and made for the stairs. Jelly stood up, and followed him. “What exactly is the problem here?”
“The problem is that I cannot fathom how your father would cooperate with us,” Gryphon told her.
"You don't understand, they didn't give him a choice!" she told him. Gryphon paused, one foot on the stair. "If I weren't here, he would have found some way to end it all by now!"
There was a sudden, great sigh from the corner of the room. Behind her, Hatter jumped a little, then made his way cautiously in that direction.
"Oh don't mind me," a voice said. "I just think it's sad, that's all."
Gryphon unhooked a lamp from the wall and made his way over to the corner. "If you've got something to say, Mock, say it," he advised, his light illuminating a red-eyed, elderly man, hooked into various wires and machines.
"Well, it's not like having Carpenter in the Casino is a good thing," Mock said, sounding despondent. "And if he would be willing to go, that would make it easier to whisk him away. It seems to me that she’s asking for something that could only help us."
He sighed again, this time accompanied by the wheeze of a bellows contracting, completely out of synch with the rise and fall of his chest.
"How is that-?" Hatter began.
Gryphon waved him off. "He doesn't actually need any of this."
"Oh, you're so rude," Mock complained sadly. Gryphon rolled his eyes and moved back to the table.
"You're sure he'd come with," Gryphon asked her. "It's not just in your fancy that if we mentioned your name he'd do what we wanted?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she replied.
"Well, then, maybe we can meet you halfway," Gryphon said. "We have received word just recently that one of our agents has been captured by the White Rabbit, and we expect them to transport him to their headquarters before the day is out. In exchange for Carpenter's safe transport, I'd like you to intercept them before they can take him to the Casino. Can you do that?"
"If it gets my father out of there?" Hope vibrated in her chest; she was almost there. "Absolutely."