by Frank Beddor
“How’s our young guest?” he asked.
“As docile as any child could be, wearing a drug-delivery system as she is,” said one of the ministers.
“She constantly demands to see her mother,” said another, “and somewhat less constantly demands that we return her homburg to her.”
Arch nodded. “Has she recorded the confession to her queen?”
“She has. But only because we promised to let her see her mother again.”
The minister handed the diary to his king.
“Let her see her mother,” Arch said, “but from a distance. They’re not to speak to each other. What of the Diamonds? Are they still…occupied?”
The ministers grinned. “The Lady of Diamonds is relaxing at one of our imagination retreats. The father and son have as much wine, food, and music as they can desire, and they are surrounded by company. The pair are insatiable. Some have complained that, in addition to making everyone around him wear wigs of dried grass, the son is somewhat gross.”
“Just make sure they’re encouraged in their debauchery. I want everything ready for the time when they will wake to find themselves in circumstances much altered for the worse.”
“Everything is ready, Your Majesty. We wait only for your word.”
“Fine. Now leave me. Send in Ripkins and Blister.”
The bodyguards stationed outside the tent entered to find Arch dressing in the formal robe and mantle he wore to summits with tribal leaders.
“The mission I have for you requires that you journey to Boarderton,” the king said. “The last I was informed, it was in the plains somewhere between the Bookie River and Duneraria. Don’t concern yourselves too much with secrecy. The ministers will inform you whom you are to meet and what you’re to do once you arrive. Go.”
The bodyguards took their leave. Arch surveyed his reflection in a looking glass one last time, then readied himself for the dispatch he was about to make, pacing the length of the tent as he rehearsed what he would say in his role of the concerned king calling on a besieged neighbor.
CHAPTER 22
THE WALRUS-BUTLER toddled in and out of the palace’s briefing room with winglefruit juice, flugelberry wine, wondercrumpets, and every refreshment he could think of to show his joy at Alyss’ safe return from the battle at Wondronia Grounds.
“Have you seen Homburg Molly yet?” she whispered as he set a plate of mostly toasted oaties on the table.
“Oh no, my queen. No, still no sign of her.”
She stared, frowning, at the food. She should have gotten over her sulking by now. If she’s trying to worry me by her absence…
“Don’t you like mostly toasted oaties?” the walrus asked with concern.
“I do.” She crunched one between her teeth. “Please send for the ranking families, walrus. We need to speak with them.”
The creature bowed and waddled out of the room.
Hatter, Bibwit, Dodge, and General Doppelgänger were watching a skirmish play out on one of the holo-screens: Glass Eyes forcing Wonderland pawns to retreat under a barrage of razor-cards and crystal shot. Alyss raised a hand and caressed the air, as if gently feeling the contours of an invisible face. On the holo-screen, a construct of herself, a decoy, stepped out from behind a tarty tart vendor’s cart. The Glass Eyes sensed it at once, abandoned their pursuit of the pawns, and trained their weapons on the decoy. Taking advantage of the opening, the pawns let rip with a slew of orb generators and—
Karooosh! Blooooomm!
Fireballs rolled over the Glass Eyes.
“I hope, Hatter,” Alyss said, wiping her decoy from existence with a wave of her hand, “that the personal issues for which you left us have been resolved?”
Hatter nodded—once.
“You’ll be pleased to know that the Millinery has been reestablished,” Bibwit said.
But Hatter did not seem pleased or even curious as to how this had been accomplished.
“Well now,” the scholar went on, “I’m just an old fuddyduddy who could use a tan, so you needn’t grant my opinion any authority, but I consider the queendom lucky that a handful of Milliners and their children lived incognito among the population during Redd’s tyranny. With their ID chips removed, they established themselves as civilians and revealed their true identities only after Alyss became queen.”
“They didn’t join the Alyssian resistance?” Hatter asked.
“A few of them aided us in their way,” said General Doppelgänger, “subtly sabotaging a number of Redd’s directives from the inside, as it were. But their standing as civilians was too valuable to jeopardize. We considered it too much of a risk to have them join us openly, both because of the destruction Redd would have brought down upon us, but also for the future of the Millinery.”
“No offense, Hatter,” said Dodge, “I’m as glad as anyone to have you back, but isn’t it time we start dealing with Redd?”
“She isn’t responsible for the attacks,” Hatter said.
Dodge and the general were speechless with surprise.
Bibwit caught Alyss’ eye. “What makes you think that?” he asked.
“I’ll show you. Queen Alyss, if you’ll please construct a decoy of yourself on Tyman Way…I’ll return shortly.”
Within three wags of a spirit-dane’s tail, the Milliner appeared on the holographic screen displaying a deserted expanse of Tyman Way. A construct of Alyss formed next to him. Barely a moment passed before a squad of Glass Eyes signaled their arrival on the scene with a volley of orb generators launched from arm cannons.
eeeeeEEEBRKCHRKKCH!
Amidst the smoke and flames and falling debris, Hatter positioned himself between the Alyss decoy and his attackers. There were five in all, though more were undoubtedly on their way. He activated his wrist-blades and sent incoming razor-cards clattering to the pavement as fast as the Glass Eyes could shoot them. He let the assassins approach to within a quarter of a block, then—fwap!—flicked his top hat into a flat pinwheel of blades and sent it zinging into them. He chased after the weapon, tumbled in a series of no-handed cartwheels, his arms held out straight to either side, wrist-blades spinning.
Thunk! Thunk!
The top hat blades sliced through two Glass Eyes and passed on, and the three remaining Glass Eyes succumbed to the deadly fans on his wrists. Clicking his bracelets shut, the Milliner caught his top hat blades as they boomeranged back to him and, with a deft flap of the hand, returned them to their more formal incarnation as headware. He dusted the hat’s brim with his coat sleeve and plopped it on his head, found what he wanted among the lifeless Glass Eye parts that littered the ground, and returned to the palace’s briefing room. He held up the severed arm of a Glass Eye for all to see.
“This is why I don’t believe Redd is responsible.”
After a long silence, Dodge cleared his throat. “I think I speak for all of us when I say, ‘Huh?’”
Hatter showed them the maelstrom of its inner wires, its lab-grown muscle and tendons. He showed them the words printed clearly on the polymer composite bone, Manufactured in Duneraria, Boarderland.
“Redd would never have left such evidence,” General Doppelgänger observed.
Hatter nodded. “I noticed it while helping one of our outposts defend itself against an attack.”
“It just means Redd’s probably cooperating with Arch,” Dodge complained.
“Since when has she cooperated with anyone?” Alyss said. “Bibwit, what are your thoughts?”
“Alyss, my thoughts are many and, for the most part, unfathomable. But I do agree with Hatter and the general. During the time I spent with your uncouth aunt, I found her to be extremely proprietary, forever fretting and worrying beyond reason that one of her diabolical inventions would be duplicated by the Alyssians. She took tremendous pains to eliminate all evidence of the manufacturing process in her finished products, be they Glass Eyes or anything else, in order to prevent our scientists from gaining too fine an understanding of
their inner work—”
From the hall came a din of raised voices:
“Wait, ladies and sirs! Please, I must announce you first!”
“Out of our way, blubber face, we can announce ourselves!”
Into the briefing room marched the Lord and Lady of Clubs and the Lord and Lady of Spades, the walrus flapping worriedly after them.
“Ooh hoo, I’m sorry, my most respected queen, but they—”
“It’s all right, walrus,” Alyss soothed.
“Does our queen think it proper to unnecessarily risk the lives of the highest-ranking families in Wonderland?” spewed the Lord of Clubs. “Does it amuse her to order them from the safety of their walled and gated mansions so that they can traverse dangerous streets, especially when she could have easily conversed with them via holo-screens? Didn’t Bibwit announce that, while the nation is under attack, citizens should remain indoors for their continued health and well-being?”
“We demand extra crystal payments for the needless danger to which we’ve been subjected!” demanded the Lord of Spades.
Incivility I wouldn’t show to the least-ranking citizen.
“As members of my cabinet,” Alyss calmly explained, “you share in the responsibility of ensuring a safe future for Wonderland. I’m sure the four of you will agree that we’re in a crisis and that trying times bring out the best in you. What queen wouldn’t want such helpful cabinet members by her side in an hour of need? Forgive me for calling you here. I was thinking only of myself and others when I did it. But for the love of your rank if nothing else, advise me. How do you think we should counter this invasion?”
“Uh,” said the Lady of Clubs.
“I know exactly how we should counter it!” said her husband. “First and foremost, a decree must be at once…decreed! All ranking families are to remain indoors and well-protected until it can be guaranteed that every threat of violence is past! It’s imperative that nothing inconvenient happen to us, for the populace would then have no one to look up to!”
“Speaking of exemplars of society,” said Alyss, “where are Lord and Lady Diamond?”
The walrus’s whiskers trembled. “Not at home or anywhere else I could find, my queen. I have left messages for them.”
Too coincidental to be a coincidence. Their absence is no accident.
The truth was, Alyss had never expected any flashes of brilliance or military insight to come from the ranking families. She had called them to the palace in order to observe them, to learn from their behavior if they knew anything of the attacks. They would swear their support to Redd or Arch or anyone else if they believed they could gain from it.
“By your sagacious advice, you’ve proved my wisdom in sending for you,” she said to the Lord of Clubs. “I want the four of you to remain in the palace until I say otherwise. You’ll be well-guarded so that no harm can come to you. Walrus, please show them to their quarters.”
The walrus enlisted the help of six palace guardsmen to coax the complaining nobles out into the hall. General Doppelgänger stepped over to the room’s crystal control panel, which had begun to demand attention.
“We’re receiving a communication from King Arch,” the general said. “He would like to speak with you, Alyss, and he claims it’s urgent.”
“Then I suppose we’d better hear what he has to say.”
The general pressed a button on the control panel and Boarderland’s king, in his official robe and mantle, appeared on a holographic screen.
“Sovereign Heart,” Arch intoned with a slight bow of the head, “I wish the reason for this communication was more pleasant, but I fear I’m to blame for the trouble your nation is presently facing.”
“Nice of you to admit it,” said Alyss.
“I assume you’ve discovered that Homburg Molly’s been kidnapped by the Ganmede Independence Front and is being held as a political prisoner?”
He paused, letting this news take its full effect. Alyss tried to keep her ignorance from showing; as stiff-backed as Hatter, she merely nodded. But the others grumbled and shifted in their seats.
“Believing me to be a disinterested party,” Arch went on, “the Ganmedes have asked that I serve as their liaison. I’ve agreed to do this only so that I can be of service to you. I don’t fully understand what they want—something to do with munitions and their attempt to secede from Unterlan—but to prove they have no desire to hurt Homburg Molly, and that they will negotiate for her release in good faith, they have passed along this.”
He showed her the diary given to him by his ministers. He laid it flat in his left palm and pressed its sides with the thumb and middle finger of his right hand. Its cover popped open and a 3-D image of Molly materialized, facing Alyss.
“Dear Queen Alyss,” the girl’s image said, “I’m recording this to let you know I’m all right and you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I tried my best, but…I guess I don’t deserve to be your bodyguard. ‘Cause what happened to the Crystal Continuum is my fault. The Lady of Diamonds, she gave me this little wooden box I was supposed to deliver to you, saying she’d gotten it from Queen Genevieve. I figured she was lying, but instead of telling you or anyone else like I probably should’ve done, I tried to expose the lady’s plot myself. I was mad at you and I wanted to prove…No, forget it. Who cares what I wanted to prove? I was inside the continuum when I opened the box and it exploded. So I guess the Wonderlanders who say halfers can’t be trusted are right. I hope no one was too badly injured. I’m sorry. I never wanted to let you down.”
Molly’s image crackled to nothing.
“And this is where I too am at fault,” Arch said, snapping shut the diary. “I have unknowingly allowed the Diamonds to indulge their machinations against you by providing them the space and secrecy to carry them out. The Lord of Diamonds recently paid for two lunar cycles’ worth of servants and a convoy of tents. As I’d been informed that his encampment was one big party, and I don’t care for his brand of frivolity, I chose not to visit him. But I see now that my ministers were being fed misinformation and that Lord Diamond and his wife were not hosting a celebratory affair but working to dethrone and even murder you. Lady Diamond has gone into hiding at one of our retreats.”
“No harm had better come to Molly,” Alyss said.
“I agree,” said the king. “We must prevent a tragedy at all costs, which is why I suggest you do as the Ganmedes request.”
“And that is?”
“Send Hatter Madigan to the Sin Bin Gaming Club in Boarderton, a city they view as neutral territory. Grant him the authority to negotiate on your behalf for Homburg Molly’s release.”
“Why Hatter?”
“As talented as he is in combat, they believe that he’s the least likely to risk Molly’s life in a rescue attempt. As to why they believe this, I think Hatter himself can best answer that question.”
Alyss flicked her eyes toward the Milliner, but his face remained as inscrutable as a slab of quartz.
“Sovereign Heart, if I’d known sooner that you were being invaded,” Arch said, “I would have offered aid before now, as befits a good neighbor. My doggerels of war are at your disposal. You need only ask for them.”
“Thank you, Arch, but we have the attack under control.”
“With your powers of imagination, I’m not surprised. Is it Redd?”
“Nothing is confirmed at this point. When do the Ganmedes expect Hatter in Boarderton?”
“In precisely half a lunar cycle. If he doesn’t arrive in time, they will assume you don’t wish to negotiate and Homburg Molly’s fate will follow accordingly.”
Arch ended his transmission without signing off and the holo-screen again aired the real-time scene of deserted Wondertropolis streets. The room was quiet except for the tinkling of General Doppelgänger’s medals as he worriedly rubbed at his forehead.
“You don’t believe Arch is an innocent intermediary, do you?” Dodge asked.
“No.”
&nbs
p; “I doubt Arch cares what Alyss suspects of him so long as she does what he wants,” said Bibwit.
“I’d rather go myself,” Alyss fretted.
The scholar shook his head. “That wouldn’t be wise. It could be a ruse to lure you away from Wonderland, to distance you from the Heart Crystal and thereby weaken your imaginative powers. The queendom is too vulnerable and cannot sustain further attack. You must remain at home, close to the crystal.”
He’s right. But still…
“Hatter,” Alyss said, “you’ve been more silent than usual. What did Arch mean when he said the Ganmedes believe you are the least likely to jeopardize Molly’s life?”
The Milliner looked at her. His mouth opened and closed. He seemed too affected to answer.
“The girl obviously made inroads in your affections,” said Bibwit. “I remember, it wasn’t so long ago that you claimed halfers were—”
“Homburg Molly is my daughter,” Hatter said.
Dodge nearly choked on the winglefruit juice he’d been sipping. The general, not knowing what else to do, split in two and then recombined. Bibwit’s ears stood straight up, alert.
“When did you learn this?” Alyss asked.
“While I was away.”
“But I remember the mother, Weaver, coming to the camp,” Bibwit said.
“Do you remember her leaving it? Or her reasons for doing so?”
Bibwit spoke slowly and deliberately, not wanting to offend. “I wish I could answer in the affirmative, Hatter, but the night she disappeared, I’d stuffed my ears with putty and tucked them under my sleeping cap as I always do. It’s the only way I can block out the world’s noises enough to fall asleep. The next morning, she was gone.”
“I will prepare to leave for Boarderland immediately,” the Milliner said, and started toward the door.
“Hatter?”
Alyss’ voice had none of the regal distance in it one would expect from a queen. It was soft and apprehensive, the voice of a concerned friend. Hatter paused.
“I hope you know that I care deeply for Molly,” Alyss said, “and that I would never willingly do anything to harm her. But what Arch or his Ganmedes see as security against a foolish rescue operation, I can’t help seeing as a risk. It feels odd saying this to you of all people, but…as this concerns your daughter’s life, Hatter, your emotions might get the better of even your training. I worry that you’d jeopardize everything and anything to rescue her.”
