Through a Looking Glass Darkly: Wheel of Fortune, Part One
When Alice was twenty-three years old, she brought down the whole house of cards.
~*~
They moved through the City the morning after, Jelly back in her uniform and at the head of the posse with Darrel. Hatter and Jack were there too, keeping themselves from thinking too much about what they were about to do by making snarky remarks every time one of them opened their mouths. That, and the fact that the Suits were nervous about their impending role as mutineers made the walk back to police headquarters was made somewhat more awkward than it needed to be.
She didn’t think any of them would bail out on it. She was asking them to take one risk in return for safety for their families for the rest of their soon-to-be-longer lives, Mom and Caterpillar had promised that they would shield any Suit that refused to fight them from Resistance reprisals, and Jack had promised that if they switched sides now he would make sure that they had a job after the dust settled. It was a good deal. It just went against everything they’d been conditioned since birth to be.
“We’re almost there,” Darrel noted.
Jelly nodded, and withdrew the handcuffs from inside her jacket. Traveling through the city with people who didn’t have the use of their hands could be treacherous, but they couldn’t put it off any longer. “Front or back?” she asked.
“If we were doing this for real, how annoyed would you be right now?” Jack asked.
“Back it is then,” she replied, tossing a pair to Darrel for Jack’s wrists.
She turned to Hatter, who had his back to her and was offering up his wrists.
“I would like to take this chance to point out that when I told you that you’d have to arrest me, I was kidding,” he said.
“Last chance to bow out gracefully,” she offered.
“Nope,” Hatter replied, wiggling his fingers a bit. Jelly took the hint began to fasten the handcuffs on. “The more people we have in the Casino to wreak havoc the better off we’ll be. Though, I think this means that I have to show you some etchings later.”
“When this is all over, you can give me the grand tour of etchings,” Jelly told him, making sure that the handcuffs weren’t on too tight. There was the deep, throbbing hum of a Scarab overhead, and the EPs on both her and Darrel’s wrists began to beep.
“That’s the King,” Darrel said.
“And here we go,” Jelly muttered, taking hold of Hatter’s arm.
The rest of the way to headquarters was easier, if only because everyone knew what role they were going to play. Hatter and Jack were prisoners; everyone else was their escort. If they could just stick to that story for the next little while, then they’d get through okay.
They go through the bottom entrance. Shakina stared at her from behind the desk.
“Ten?” she asked.
“Which one?” Darrel asked.
Shakina looked even more unsure of herself, her eyes darting back and forth between the two Tens.
“Open the elevator,” Jelly ordered. “We don’t want to keep the King waiting.”
Darrel nodded, and Shakina pressed the sequence of buttons that would let them into the headquarters proper. “Yes, Ace. Um, welcome back?”
“Good to be back, Four,” Jelly lied, giving Hatter a rough shove forwards as the elevator opened. Quigley Tove and his hand came pouring out; Tove made a double-take at the sight of her escorting Hatter in handcuffs before skittering hurriedly away. Jelly winced. He would probably slip away and go into hiding at the first available opportunity, which meant that she was going to have to dig him up later.
They made the elevator ride in silence, save for the clink of handcuffs and the sound of deliberate, even breathing. The doors slid open with a small ‘ding’ and they stepped out into the office level. The King was waiting for them there, flanked by Othello and Cricket.
“Your Majesty,” both she and Darrel said, nodding their heads in respect.
The King sent her a suspicious look. “Tens,” he acknowledged, before turning to his son, his expression becoming strained. “Jack. What did you do to your hair?”
“I dyed it,” Jack replied tartly.
“Your mother,” the King sighed, “Is going to have raths.”
“Did she ever stop having raths?” Hatter asked, startling everyone.
“No, but I suppose now she’ll be having entire litters of them,” Jack replied.
Hatter was going to reply, but Jelly cut him off by jerking him back just hard enough to put some stress on his shoulder. Please don’t make me hit you she tried to tell him. Considering the only thing she had to convey it with was a stern look, she wasn’t sure if he got the message.
“And who’s this, Ten?” the King asked her.
“This is Hatter,” Jelly introduced him, pushing him forwards a bit. “He’s the one who killed March.”
“Really?” the King replied, scrutinizing him. To her surprise, a flicker of recognition appeared on his face. “Don’t you own our top-grossing Tea Shop?” he asked Hatter.
“Absolutely,” Hatter told him, smiling just a bit too wide. “And it made for a spectacular cover. The Resistance is very grateful.”
Jelly yanked on his arms again, and he looked at her over his shoulder with a grimace. Seriously, stop making me hurt you, she tried to tell him with a glare. He sent a look back that said I know what I’m doing, before saying out loud. “Oh, lay off. You’re just miffed because I got the drop on you.”
“Notice which one of us is in handcuffs,” Jelly growled, trying to warn him to back down. What the hell was he up to?
“Temporary setback,” Hatter told her.
“I thought you said that the Resistance had an agent in the Casino,” the King interrupted.
“That’s what I had supposed,” Jelly said, at the same time Hatter said “That’s what I wanted you to think.”
She couldn’t let that go, not in front of a still-suspicious King and the deck she would need to convince to mutiny against him in few moments time. She punched him in the stomach, and Hatter doubled over like he wasn’t still in body armor and she hadn’t pulled it.
What the fuck are you doing? She wanted to scream at him. If you mouth of like this to the Suits on the Scarab, they’re going to hurt you. You’ve got to know that, why are you doing this?
“Shut it,” she ordered. “I can hurt you.”
“Considering how many Suits are laying in the Wabe, you might want to take that threatening tone done a notch,” he snapped back. “You’re not as tough as you think you are.”
Why would you say that? Why would you imply that you killed them? Seriously, should I have not been kidding when I asked you if you had a death wish?
But evidentially their nonverbal communication was broken, because Hatter made no reply. Or maybe he was just nonverbally ignoring her.
“Well, we’ll have to sort that out later,” the King said cheerfully, jerking his head in Hatter’s direction. Cricket took him out of her hands, and Darrel followed them with Jack, the rest of the posse trailing close behind. The King turned to her, his face slightly warmer with the prisoners taken care of, but not as warm as it would have been last week. “Welcome back, Jellybean. We were worried about you.”
“I was worried about me, Your Majesty,” Jelly replied. “Shortly after I made contact, the Resistance had me intercept Jack. For a while there I thought he might be acting as one of their agents.”
“And is he?” the King asked.
“They want him on their side,” Jelly told him. “The definitely helped him out of Wonderland. But they didn’t get any farther with him.”
“But you think he would,” the King said.
“Jack’s made a profession of rebelling against his parents,” Jelly replied. “I’m not sure how much a distinction there is in his mind between ‘parent’ and ‘Crown’.”
The King frowned, and nodded to himself. “You should get the head wound checked. And then number Nine will fill you in, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, your Majesty,” Jellybean said, with a small bow. The King left; she turned to Othello, smiling slightly. “I hope you didn’t get too comfy in my office?”
“I ate all your chocolate,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, you need the infirmary.”
Othello was unusually quiet as they made their way to the infirmary. Jelly had expected more complaining: about the extra work, about the scrutiny the Crown would have placed them under, about not having told him what she was up to, about the fact that she was back meant he was no longer a candidate for Ten, even. But there was nothing but the strange looks he was shooting her out of the corner of his eyes.
“What, Othello?” she asked finally.
“You’re going to want to be sitting down for this,” he told her, holding the door to the infirmary open for her.
Jelly raised her eyebrows but went through, and was immediately accosted by the head medic, a forceful woman by the name of Morgana. Othello hovered, nervously readjusting his bowtie, and she was examined, disinfected, bandaged, and made to decline the offer of some Numb to help her through the day.
“And now you’re free to go,” Morgana finished. “Don’t do anything strenuous today.”
“Yeah, that’s … not very likely to happen,” Jelly told her.
“Oh?” Morgana asked, hands on her hips.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve got a few things to take care of today.”
Before Morgana could reply to that, Othello cut in with “Why don’t you let me talk to her for a bit, Seven?”
Morgana considered it for a moment, before leaving with a “Don’t let her get up just yet.”
“I won’t,” Othello told her as the door shut.
“I’ll be honest, you’re kind of creeping me out,” Jelly told him.
“Right back at you with the whole being honest thing, I’m kind of afraid you’re going to shoot me in a minute,” Othello replied.
“Well, spit it out,” Jelly said. Time was ticking away- time the Scarab ride between the City and the Casino, time to turn her deck against the Crown, time before Mom, Dad, and Charlie needed their distraction. But whatever had gotten Othello upset enough to stop his whining certainly had the potential to steer their plan in a wrongwards direction, and with Hatter acting so off she really needed to know what was going on.
“It’s your father,” Othello said. “The Resistance kidnapped him two days ago.”
Or it could be a complete non-issue, and one she should have seen coming at that. Now she just felt silly.
“Jelly?”
“I knew that already,” she said .
Othello frowned. “I thought they might be holding that over you, after I heard you attacked Agent White and helped the prince escape. But, what happened to Carpenter then?”
“He’s fine,” Jelly told him. “I saw him just-”
“Do they still have him?” Othello interrupted to ask. “Because, you’re back, and he’s not-”
“Othello,” Alice cut him off, and stood. “The Resistance has Dad because I asked them to get him out of the Casino.”
“What,” Othello said.
“He was going crazy,” Alice explained. “He doesn’t like to show it in front of people he outranks, but he hates it here, and he hates the work he does. If the Queen wasn’t holding the threat of my death and/or his brainwashing over his head he wouldn’t do it at all, and with the new regulations for the White Rabbit- the ones that let them kidnap kids?- that wasn’t going to work for much longer. I needed to get him out before he went mad.”
Othello’s frown deepened, but he nodded grudgingly. “Okay, I can understand that.” He paused a moment, and then shook his head. “No I can’t. You came back- you came back with Resistance prisoners. And not your father. How does that even-”
“I didn’t intend on coming back when I left,” Alice admitted. “I decided to anyway because I realized that as long as the Queen was in power, none of us would ever be safe.”
Othello stared at her. “Just how hard did you hit your head?” he demanded.
“Othello, listen to me,” Alice pleaded. “You know this isn’t right. You know half the people we send to execution don’t-”
“Fuck me,” Othello whispered. “They’re not prisoners. They’re saboteurs.”
He rushed out of the room; Jelly followed.
“Othello!” she yelled.
“Don’t you even start!” Othello yelled, not stopping, not even looking back at her over his shoulder as he strode across the room, heading for the intercom right outside Uthar’s office. “You sold us all out!”
“No, I didn’t,” she protested. The knowledge that she’d intended to, that she’d gone through with killing some of their fellows sapped some of the strength from her argument. She pressed onwards anyway. “We all sold ourselves out. We toe the line and nod along with the Queen and follow her every order that isn’t immediately rescinded by the King in exchange for regular meals, and medical care, and not being executed and it doesn’t even work!”
The normal buzz of filling paperwork and chatter amongst coworkers was noticeable absent as Othello turned around. “Do you really expect the Resistance to treat us any better?” he asked. “After one hundred and fifty years of fighting? After the fucking food riots? You remember those, right? You remember what we did? Do you really think they’d be prepared to forgive that?”
“I know they would be,” Jelly shot back. “I’ve talked with Caterpillar and Tortoise. They’ve promised amnesty to whoever doesn’t fight them on this. If you can’t bring yourself to help, all you need to do is sit this one out. There won’t be any retaliations. We’ll all even still have jobs after this.”
“Bullshit,” Othello spat. “That’s bullshit. That’s the shittiest thing to ever come out of a bull.”
He turned again, but before he could move, Jelly had fired back with “It’s not, and maybe if you weren’t so scared you could see that!”
“What?” he squawked.
“I said you’re scared,” Jelly repeated. “I implied that the Queen and her whole system terrified you.”
“You’re mad!” Othello shouted, though he didn’t deny it. “I mean, you were always crazy, but are you even listening to yourself talk now?”
“Who are you dating?” Jelly asked.
“What?” Othello asked.
“Who are you dating?” she repeated, taking a step towards him. He didn’t move away, and she began to hope that this wouldn’t end in disaster, that this would be like her other crazy plans, and once she’d managed to cut through his bluster he would hop on board like he always did. His complaints were only louder and more public because she was asking more of him than she’d ever asked before.
The alternative was something she had tried very hard not to think about, back when she thought that she would be leaving the Spades behind forever.
“We all know you’re courting someone,” she continued. “We can all tell you’re serious about her too. But you’ve never mentioned her name. You’ve never introduced her to any of us. So, I’m curious. Who is she?”
“What does that even have to do anything?” he cried.
“Because the reason you haven’t brought her up is because you’re afraid of what would happen to her if people knew you were courting seriously,” Jelly said.
“Or I’m embarrassed because my boss is a crazy woman!” Othello shot back. But his voice was pitched half an octave lower than usual, and he’d bladed his body towards her so that he was minimized as a target. She’d put him on the defensive, which meant that she was on the right track.
“Please. Stop deflecting and think!” Jelly replied. “Or at least acknowledge that you do. I’ve known you for years, Othello and you’re not stupid at all. You figured out how this system works ages ago; you probably have a better grasp on it than the Queen! You certainly got there before I did!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Othello said slowly.
“Yes you do,” Jelly snapped. “What was that you had against bullshit earlier?”
She moved forwards, intended to whisper to him, and spare him the embarrassment of having some of the specifics of her argument in front of the people he commanded. Then Othello reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife.
“Back off,” he snarled. “And shut up while you’re at it.”
Jelly stopped and was silent, but only for as long as it took to shake off the shock of having her former partner threaten her. Then she yelled, making sure her words carried. “Just about the only part I’m not sure of is whether or not marriage would have come up before you worked it through or after. Because you know that if you were to marry her- whoever she is!- and bring her back to the Casino that it would only be a matter of time before the Queen would be calling for her head. You could try to avoid it; live in the City, but you’ve been at this job longer than I have. The Suit communities are comparatively safe, but there are riots and unleashed serial killers on top of the Queen’s visits to worry about. She could still be sentenced to execution. And unless she was really something necessary, sooner or later the King would let the order stand.”
Othello stopped, a mere two cubits from the intercom. His back was to her, but she could see his shoulders flex, as though he was fiddling with his bow tie. There was no sound; it seemed like everyone in the room was holding their breath.
“It would probably be later, though,” Jelly continued. “You’re high ranking and skilled enough that the Crown would want leverage over you no matter how loyal you are, so they would wait until there were kids. Then you really wouldn’t have any choice but to do what you were told; it’s not like you could leave your own children to face Court on their own. And that eventuality terrifies you, because like I said earlier, you’re not stupid. If you keep it secret, never put anything down on the record, then the civilians see her as just another mistress and you’re just another committed bachelor to us Suits. Or you could help me. We can end this. We can end it today- no more executions, no more hiding, no more fear.”
Othello spun around, and Jelly realized that he hadn’t been fiddling with his bowtie. He’d been converting Magpie’s knife into a gun.
“Yeah, the system sucks.” Othello sneered, pointing the gun straight at her head. “But bringing it down is sui-”
Uthar stepped out of his office and calmly brought down the butt of his pistol on the back of Othello’s head. His eyes rolled back in his head as he crumpled to the floor.
Jelly gaped.
“Is it true?” Uthar asked her.
“Is what true?” Jelly asked warily, reaching and hand behind her to clasp around the handle of the gun holstered in the small of her back.
“Don’t give me that,” Uthar snapped, his tone strained. “I’m more than old enough to remember the day you arrived in Court, and who you really are. I’ve been waiting for you to bring an end to this ever since. Is it today?”
“Who is she?” asked Alban before she could respond.
Uthar and Jelly both turned to look at him.
“You just knocked out Othello,” the Five stressed. “That’s not like you at all.” He turned to face her, confused, on hand resting nervously on the butt of his gun. “What are you, the White Queen’s heir?”
“She’s Alice,” Uthar said, deliberately matter of fact. He didn’t say it like he was announcing that the sky was blue. He said it like Hatter had explained that he’d once had his arm cut off, like Jack had explained that she was an Oyster and would be drained if caught. He knew that he’d introduced a game changer.
At least she could tell that everyone had started breathing again, because there was a sudden chorus of gasps. There was a flurry of movement as people made eye contact with their coworkers, looking for confirmation that they’d heard what they’d thought they’d heard.
“Alice?” Uthar asked.
She just wasn’t sure that she could play this game- the Return of Alice game, that is. And admitting that she was called Alice would be as good as admitted she was Alice, especially today when she was planning treason and mutiny. The two concepts being so closely intertwined was the whole reason she’d gone by Jellybean in the first place.
“One way or another, the Casino is falling today,” Alice said, sidestepping the name issue. There was an excited murmur. “I meant what I said to Othello. The Resistance has offered amnesty to anyone who doesn’t fight. You don’t have to help; just make sure you’re out of the way. All we need is the rest of the day.”
“What if we want to help?” That was Felicity, her eyes wide, and her skin ashen beneath her freckles.
“Smash the cameras,” Alice ordered. “All of them. Release the prisoners you know are non-violent. Then start spreading the word: if anyone wants to help bringing the Casino down, I’m going on the next Scarab over to the Casino, and there’s room for two hands on it. There probably won’t be any coming after that.”
“What about Othello?” Morgana asked.
“Make sure he’ll be okay, then stick him in a holding cell,” Alice said, after a beat to think it over. “We can sort it later.”
For a moment, no one moved. Then Moran pulled a chair over to the wall, stood on it, and plucked the camera off the wall before smashing it to bits on the ground. Then, suddenly, the floor was alight with activity.
There, Alice thought, as she helped Morgana carry Othello into the infirmary. That wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Now you just have to convince the Suits who work under the Queen’s roof, and you’re all set.
Her stomach twisted in upon itself at the thought. It wouldn’t hurt as much coming from a Diamond, or a Club, or anyone who wasn’t her friend, but there would be more who thought like Othello she would have to fight against, and she wouldn’t even have the sway that came from being their superior to fall back upon when it came to non-Spades.
It was almost mid-morning now. Charlie, Mom, and Dad would have set off for the Casino already. She supposed all that really mattered was that there was enough chaos when they arrived that Darrel could let them in the back without too much trouble.
She looked at her EP. The regular Scarab would be arriving soon, and she needed to hijack it. And before could do that, she needed to figure out which of her Suits would be accompanying her.
~*~
They moved through the City the morning after, Jelly back in her uniform and at the head of the posse with Darrel. Hatter and Jack were there too, keeping themselves from thinking too much about what they were about to do by making snarky remarks every time one of them opened their mouths. That, and the fact that the Suits were nervous about their impending role as mutineers made the walk back to police headquarters was made somewhat more awkward than it needed to be.
She didn’t think any of them would bail out on it. She was asking them to take one risk in return for safety for their families for the rest of their soon-to-be-longer lives, Mom and Caterpillar had promised that they would shield any Suit that refused to fight them from Resistance reprisals, and Jack had promised that if they switched sides now he would make sure that they had a job after the dust settled. It was a good deal. It just went against everything they’d been conditioned since birth to be.
“We’re almost there,” Darrel noted.
Jelly nodded, and withdrew the handcuffs from inside her jacket. Traveling through the city with people who didn’t have the use of their hands could be treacherous, but they couldn’t put it off any longer. “Front or back?” she asked.
“If we were doing this for real, how annoyed would you be right now?” Jack asked.
“Back it is then,” she replied, tossing a pair to Darrel for Jack’s wrists.
She turned to Hatter, who had his back to her and was offering up his wrists.
“I would like to take this chance to point out that when I told you that you’d have to arrest me, I was kidding,” he said.
“Last chance to bow out gracefully,” she offered.
“Nope,” Hatter replied, wiggling his fingers a bit. Jelly took the hint began to fasten the handcuffs on. “The more people we have in the Casino to wreak havoc the better off we’ll be. Though, I think this means that I have to show you some etchings later.”
“When this is all over, you can give me the grand tour of etchings,” Jelly told him, making sure that the handcuffs weren’t on too tight. There was the deep, throbbing hum of a Scarab overhead, and the EPs on both her and Darrel’s wrists began to beep.
“That’s the King,” Darrel said.
“And here we go,” Jelly muttered, taking hold of Hatter’s arm.
The rest of the way to headquarters was easier, if only because everyone knew what role they were going to play. Hatter and Jack were prisoners; everyone else was their escort. If they could just stick to that story for the next little while, then they’d get through okay.
They go through the bottom entrance. Shakina stared at her from behind the desk.
“Ten?” she asked.
“Which one?” Darrel asked.
Shakina looked even more unsure of herself, her eyes darting back and forth between the two Tens.
“Open the elevator,” Jelly ordered. “We don’t want to keep the King waiting.”
Darrel nodded, and Shakina pressed the sequence of buttons that would let them into the headquarters proper. “Yes, Ace. Um, welcome back?”
“Good to be back, Four,” Jelly lied, giving Hatter a rough shove forwards as the elevator opened. Quigley Tove and his hand came pouring out; Tove made a double-take at the sight of her escorting Hatter in handcuffs before skittering hurriedly away. Jelly winced. He would probably slip away and go into hiding at the first available opportunity, which meant that she was going to have to dig him up later.
They made the elevator ride in silence, save for the clink of handcuffs and the sound of deliberate, even breathing. The doors slid open with a small ‘ding’ and they stepped out into the office level. The King was waiting for them there, flanked by Othello and Cricket.
“Your Majesty,” both she and Darrel said, nodding their heads in respect.
The King sent her a suspicious look. “Tens,” he acknowledged, before turning to his son, his expression becoming strained. “Jack. What did you do to your hair?”
“I dyed it,” Jack replied tartly.
“Your mother,” the King sighed, “Is going to have raths.”
“Did she ever stop having raths?” Hatter asked, startling everyone.
“No, but I suppose now she’ll be having entire litters of them,” Jack replied.
Hatter was going to reply, but Jelly cut him off by jerking him back just hard enough to put some stress on his shoulder. Please don’t make me hit you she tried to tell him. Considering the only thing she had to convey it with was a stern look, she wasn’t sure if he got the message.
“And who’s this, Ten?” the King asked her.
“This is Hatter,” Jelly introduced him, pushing him forwards a bit. “He’s the one who killed March.”
“Really?” the King replied, scrutinizing him. To her surprise, a flicker of recognition appeared on his face. “Don’t you own our top-grossing Tea Shop?” he asked Hatter.
“Absolutely,” Hatter told him, smiling just a bit too wide. “And it made for a spectacular cover. The Resistance is very grateful.”
Jelly yanked on his arms again, and he looked at her over his shoulder with a grimace. Seriously, stop making me hurt you, she tried to tell him with a glare. He sent a look back that said I know what I’m doing, before saying out loud. “Oh, lay off. You’re just miffed because I got the drop on you.”
“Notice which one of us is in handcuffs,” Jelly growled, trying to warn him to back down. What the hell was he up to?
“Temporary setback,” Hatter told her.
“I thought you said that the Resistance had an agent in the Casino,” the King interrupted.
“That’s what I had supposed,” Jelly said, at the same time Hatter said “That’s what I wanted you to think.”
She couldn’t let that go, not in front of a still-suspicious King and the deck she would need to convince to mutiny against him in few moments time. She punched him in the stomach, and Hatter doubled over like he wasn’t still in body armor and she hadn’t pulled it.
What the fuck are you doing? She wanted to scream at him. If you mouth of like this to the Suits on the Scarab, they’re going to hurt you. You’ve got to know that, why are you doing this?
“Shut it,” she ordered. “I can hurt you.”
“Considering how many Suits are laying in the Wabe, you might want to take that threatening tone done a notch,” he snapped back. “You’re not as tough as you think you are.”
Why would you say that? Why would you imply that you killed them? Seriously, should I have not been kidding when I asked you if you had a death wish?
But evidentially their nonverbal communication was broken, because Hatter made no reply. Or maybe he was just nonverbally ignoring her.
“Well, we’ll have to sort that out later,” the King said cheerfully, jerking his head in Hatter’s direction. Cricket took him out of her hands, and Darrel followed them with Jack, the rest of the posse trailing close behind. The King turned to her, his face slightly warmer with the prisoners taken care of, but not as warm as it would have been last week. “Welcome back, Jellybean. We were worried about you.”
“I was worried about me, Your Majesty,” Jelly replied. “Shortly after I made contact, the Resistance had me intercept Jack. For a while there I thought he might be acting as one of their agents.”
“And is he?” the King asked.
“They want him on their side,” Jelly told him. “The definitely helped him out of Wonderland. But they didn’t get any farther with him.”
“But you think he would,” the King said.
“Jack’s made a profession of rebelling against his parents,” Jelly replied. “I’m not sure how much a distinction there is in his mind between ‘parent’ and ‘Crown’.”
The King frowned, and nodded to himself. “You should get the head wound checked. And then number Nine will fill you in, I’m sure.”
“Thank you, your Majesty,” Jellybean said, with a small bow. The King left; she turned to Othello, smiling slightly. “I hope you didn’t get too comfy in my office?”
“I ate all your chocolate,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, you need the infirmary.”
Othello was unusually quiet as they made their way to the infirmary. Jelly had expected more complaining: about the extra work, about the scrutiny the Crown would have placed them under, about not having told him what she was up to, about the fact that she was back meant he was no longer a candidate for Ten, even. But there was nothing but the strange looks he was shooting her out of the corner of his eyes.
“What, Othello?” she asked finally.
“You’re going to want to be sitting down for this,” he told her, holding the door to the infirmary open for her.
Jelly raised her eyebrows but went through, and was immediately accosted by the head medic, a forceful woman by the name of Morgana. Othello hovered, nervously readjusting his bowtie, and she was examined, disinfected, bandaged, and made to decline the offer of some Numb to help her through the day.
“And now you’re free to go,” Morgana finished. “Don’t do anything strenuous today.”
“Yeah, that’s … not very likely to happen,” Jelly told her.
“Oh?” Morgana asked, hands on her hips.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve got a few things to take care of today.”
Before Morgana could reply to that, Othello cut in with “Why don’t you let me talk to her for a bit, Seven?”
Morgana considered it for a moment, before leaving with a “Don’t let her get up just yet.”
“I won’t,” Othello told her as the door shut.
“I’ll be honest, you’re kind of creeping me out,” Jelly told him.
“Right back at you with the whole being honest thing, I’m kind of afraid you’re going to shoot me in a minute,” Othello replied.
“Well, spit it out,” Jelly said. Time was ticking away- time the Scarab ride between the City and the Casino, time to turn her deck against the Crown, time before Mom, Dad, and Charlie needed their distraction. But whatever had gotten Othello upset enough to stop his whining certainly had the potential to steer their plan in a wrongwards direction, and with Hatter acting so off she really needed to know what was going on.
“It’s your father,” Othello said. “The Resistance kidnapped him two days ago.”
Or it could be a complete non-issue, and one she should have seen coming at that. Now she just felt silly.
“Jelly?”
“I knew that already,” she said .
Othello frowned. “I thought they might be holding that over you, after I heard you attacked Agent White and helped the prince escape. But, what happened to Carpenter then?”
“He’s fine,” Jelly told him. “I saw him just-”
“Do they still have him?” Othello interrupted to ask. “Because, you’re back, and he’s not-”
“Othello,” Alice cut him off, and stood. “The Resistance has Dad because I asked them to get him out of the Casino.”
“What,” Othello said.
“He was going crazy,” Alice explained. “He doesn’t like to show it in front of people he outranks, but he hates it here, and he hates the work he does. If the Queen wasn’t holding the threat of my death and/or his brainwashing over his head he wouldn’t do it at all, and with the new regulations for the White Rabbit- the ones that let them kidnap kids?- that wasn’t going to work for much longer. I needed to get him out before he went mad.”
Othello’s frown deepened, but he nodded grudgingly. “Okay, I can understand that.” He paused a moment, and then shook his head. “No I can’t. You came back- you came back with Resistance prisoners. And not your father. How does that even-”
“I didn’t intend on coming back when I left,” Alice admitted. “I decided to anyway because I realized that as long as the Queen was in power, none of us would ever be safe.”
Othello stared at her. “Just how hard did you hit your head?” he demanded.
“Othello, listen to me,” Alice pleaded. “You know this isn’t right. You know half the people we send to execution don’t-”
“Fuck me,” Othello whispered. “They’re not prisoners. They’re saboteurs.”
He rushed out of the room; Jelly followed.
“Othello!” she yelled.
“Don’t you even start!” Othello yelled, not stopping, not even looking back at her over his shoulder as he strode across the room, heading for the intercom right outside Uthar’s office. “You sold us all out!”
“No, I didn’t,” she protested. The knowledge that she’d intended to, that she’d gone through with killing some of their fellows sapped some of the strength from her argument. She pressed onwards anyway. “We all sold ourselves out. We toe the line and nod along with the Queen and follow her every order that isn’t immediately rescinded by the King in exchange for regular meals, and medical care, and not being executed and it doesn’t even work!”
The normal buzz of filling paperwork and chatter amongst coworkers was noticeable absent as Othello turned around. “Do you really expect the Resistance to treat us any better?” he asked. “After one hundred and fifty years of fighting? After the fucking food riots? You remember those, right? You remember what we did? Do you really think they’d be prepared to forgive that?”
“I know they would be,” Jelly shot back. “I’ve talked with Caterpillar and Tortoise. They’ve promised amnesty to whoever doesn’t fight them on this. If you can’t bring yourself to help, all you need to do is sit this one out. There won’t be any retaliations. We’ll all even still have jobs after this.”
“Bullshit,” Othello spat. “That’s bullshit. That’s the shittiest thing to ever come out of a bull.”
He turned again, but before he could move, Jelly had fired back with “It’s not, and maybe if you weren’t so scared you could see that!”
“What?” he squawked.
“I said you’re scared,” Jelly repeated. “I implied that the Queen and her whole system terrified you.”
“You’re mad!” Othello shouted, though he didn’t deny it. “I mean, you were always crazy, but are you even listening to yourself talk now?”
“Who are you dating?” Jelly asked.
“What?” Othello asked.
“Who are you dating?” she repeated, taking a step towards him. He didn’t move away, and she began to hope that this wouldn’t end in disaster, that this would be like her other crazy plans, and once she’d managed to cut through his bluster he would hop on board like he always did. His complaints were only louder and more public because she was asking more of him than she’d ever asked before.
The alternative was something she had tried very hard not to think about, back when she thought that she would be leaving the Spades behind forever.
“We all know you’re courting someone,” she continued. “We can all tell you’re serious about her too. But you’ve never mentioned her name. You’ve never introduced her to any of us. So, I’m curious. Who is she?”
“What does that even have to do anything?” he cried.
“Because the reason you haven’t brought her up is because you’re afraid of what would happen to her if people knew you were courting seriously,” Jelly said.
“Or I’m embarrassed because my boss is a crazy woman!” Othello shot back. But his voice was pitched half an octave lower than usual, and he’d bladed his body towards her so that he was minimized as a target. She’d put him on the defensive, which meant that she was on the right track.
“Please. Stop deflecting and think!” Jelly replied. “Or at least acknowledge that you do. I’ve known you for years, Othello and you’re not stupid at all. You figured out how this system works ages ago; you probably have a better grasp on it than the Queen! You certainly got there before I did!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Othello said slowly.
“Yes you do,” Jelly snapped. “What was that you had against bullshit earlier?”
She moved forwards, intended to whisper to him, and spare him the embarrassment of having some of the specifics of her argument in front of the people he commanded. Then Othello reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife.
“Back off,” he snarled. “And shut up while you’re at it.”
Jelly stopped and was silent, but only for as long as it took to shake off the shock of having her former partner threaten her. Then she yelled, making sure her words carried. “Just about the only part I’m not sure of is whether or not marriage would have come up before you worked it through or after. Because you know that if you were to marry her- whoever she is!- and bring her back to the Casino that it would only be a matter of time before the Queen would be calling for her head. You could try to avoid it; live in the City, but you’ve been at this job longer than I have. The Suit communities are comparatively safe, but there are riots and unleashed serial killers on top of the Queen’s visits to worry about. She could still be sentenced to execution. And unless she was really something necessary, sooner or later the King would let the order stand.”
Othello stopped, a mere two cubits from the intercom. His back was to her, but she could see his shoulders flex, as though he was fiddling with his bow tie. There was no sound; it seemed like everyone in the room was holding their breath.
“It would probably be later, though,” Jelly continued. “You’re high ranking and skilled enough that the Crown would want leverage over you no matter how loyal you are, so they would wait until there were kids. Then you really wouldn’t have any choice but to do what you were told; it’s not like you could leave your own children to face Court on their own. And that eventuality terrifies you, because like I said earlier, you’re not stupid. If you keep it secret, never put anything down on the record, then the civilians see her as just another mistress and you’re just another committed bachelor to us Suits. Or you could help me. We can end this. We can end it today- no more executions, no more hiding, no more fear.”
Othello spun around, and Jelly realized that he hadn’t been fiddling with his bowtie. He’d been converting Magpie’s knife into a gun.
“Yeah, the system sucks.” Othello sneered, pointing the gun straight at her head. “But bringing it down is sui-”
Uthar stepped out of his office and calmly brought down the butt of his pistol on the back of Othello’s head. His eyes rolled back in his head as he crumpled to the floor.
Jelly gaped.
“Is it true?” Uthar asked her.
“Is what true?” Jelly asked warily, reaching and hand behind her to clasp around the handle of the gun holstered in the small of her back.
“Don’t give me that,” Uthar snapped, his tone strained. “I’m more than old enough to remember the day you arrived in Court, and who you really are. I’ve been waiting for you to bring an end to this ever since. Is it today?”
“Who is she?” asked Alban before she could respond.
Uthar and Jelly both turned to look at him.
“You just knocked out Othello,” the Five stressed. “That’s not like you at all.” He turned to face her, confused, on hand resting nervously on the butt of his gun. “What are you, the White Queen’s heir?”
“She’s Alice,” Uthar said, deliberately matter of fact. He didn’t say it like he was announcing that the sky was blue. He said it like Hatter had explained that he’d once had his arm cut off, like Jack had explained that she was an Oyster and would be drained if caught. He knew that he’d introduced a game changer.
At least she could tell that everyone had started breathing again, because there was a sudden chorus of gasps. There was a flurry of movement as people made eye contact with their coworkers, looking for confirmation that they’d heard what they’d thought they’d heard.
“Alice?” Uthar asked.
She just wasn’t sure that she could play this game- the Return of Alice game, that is. And admitting that she was called Alice would be as good as admitted she was Alice, especially today when she was planning treason and mutiny. The two concepts being so closely intertwined was the whole reason she’d gone by Jellybean in the first place.
“One way or another, the Casino is falling today,” Alice said, sidestepping the name issue. There was an excited murmur. “I meant what I said to Othello. The Resistance has offered amnesty to anyone who doesn’t fight. You don’t have to help; just make sure you’re out of the way. All we need is the rest of the day.”
“What if we want to help?” That was Felicity, her eyes wide, and her skin ashen beneath her freckles.
“Smash the cameras,” Alice ordered. “All of them. Release the prisoners you know are non-violent. Then start spreading the word: if anyone wants to help bringing the Casino down, I’m going on the next Scarab over to the Casino, and there’s room for two hands on it. There probably won’t be any coming after that.”
“What about Othello?” Morgana asked.
“Make sure he’ll be okay, then stick him in a holding cell,” Alice said, after a beat to think it over. “We can sort it later.”
For a moment, no one moved. Then Moran pulled a chair over to the wall, stood on it, and plucked the camera off the wall before smashing it to bits on the ground. Then, suddenly, the floor was alight with activity.
There, Alice thought, as she helped Morgana carry Othello into the infirmary. That wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Now you just have to convince the Suits who work under the Queen’s roof, and you’re all set.
Her stomach twisted in upon itself at the thought. It wouldn’t hurt as much coming from a Diamond, or a Club, or anyone who wasn’t her friend, but there would be more who thought like Othello she would have to fight against, and she wouldn’t even have the sway that came from being their superior to fall back upon when it came to non-Spades.
It was almost mid-morning now. Charlie, Mom, and Dad would have set off for the Casino already. She supposed all that really mattered was that there was enough chaos when they arrived that Darrel could let them in the back without too much trouble.
She looked at her EP. The regular Scarab would be arriving soon, and she needed to hijack it. And before could do that, she needed to figure out which of her Suits would be accompanying her.