by Cameron Jace
“Your medicine, Alice.” He sounds impatient or disappointed. I can’t really tell. “The pill I’ve been giving you for two years now. It’s called Lullaby, if you remember.”
Chapter 61
Brazil
In spite of all the confusion, the mixed emotions, the drink’s effect is hilarious. I wake up laughing like I haven’t for some time. It’s the kind of laughing that cramps the stomach and makes you wiggle your feet or hands. And the funniest part of it is that I don’t know why.
Could it be because everything around me looks so big?
This room I am in is definitely hot and humid, but its doors are the size of a fortress. The windows are, too, and it takes me a while to realize they are in fact windows. And this desert of velvet I’m walking on is nothing but the sheets of normal-sized bed.
I laugh harder when I see the Pillar the same size as me. He looks really annoyed, and it makes me happy.
“See? This is the same way I felt when you drugged me in the rabbit hole, pretending you were the Mad Hatter,” I say.
The Pillar is too annoyed to even answer me. He keeps shouting the Scientist’s name.
“But wait a minute,” I say. “This means the Reds aren’t working for you?”
“The Reds are hired mercenaries, Alice. I hired them last week, like others hire them all the time,” the Pillar says. “They once worked for the Queen of Hearts, and some of them still do, but those don’t call themselves Reds anymore.”
“Are you saying the Scientist has hired them now?”
“Looks like it. Where are you, Scientisto!” he shouts.
“I’m here,” a deafening sound answers. “I had to use the Alice Syndrome on you so as to keep my identity secret.”
It’s true. All we see is someone huge talking to us. It’s hard to tell who he is. Still, his loud voice, in proportion with his size, is annoying.
“So let’s cut this short,” the Pillar raises his voice, in case the Scientist can’t hear us clearly. “We know Carolus asked you to cook this plague for him. We need you to cook us the cure.”
I am curious about how this Alice Syndrome works. This is not exactly like the one I experienced in the rabbit hole. I mean, here we’re really small. And what boggles my mind is that I know that we’re not small. It’s just the effect of the drink.
It’s tremendously uncomfortable.
“There is no cure to the plague,” the Scientist says.
“Come on,” I shout. “What kind of virus has no cure? There must be one.”
“This plague is like no other. It’s not a virus.”
“Why does everyone tell us that?” the Pillar says. “You make it sound as if it’s not a chemical plague. Is it some kind of magic?”
“Worse.”
“Tell us, Scientisto,” I say. “Please.”
“I’ll pay double whatever Carolus paid you,” the Pillar offers.
“All the money in the world can’t cure the truth.”
“The truth?” the Pillar and I ask in unison.
“Yes. Carolus wanted a plague that wasn’t just incurable, but also ironic,” the Scientist says. “Like most Wonderlanders who were in the Circus, he wanted to laugh at the world. He wanted to give them a poison of their own.”
“I’m not quite following.” The Pillar suppresses a thin smile on his lips. Of course he’s amused about the idea. He just wants the Scientist to spell it out for him.
“The Hookah of Hearts plague makes people tell the truth.”
Chapter 62
Queen’s garden, Buckingham Palace, London
Margaret watched the Queen of Hearts lay on her stomach on the floor, kicking her hands and feet. The Queen couldn’t stop laughing so hard Margaret and the guards felt embarrassed for her. They also didn’t quite understand what Carolus said that was so laughable.
“You infected the world with telling the truth no matter what?” Tears of joy sprang out of her eyes. “Brilliant. Bloody Brilliant!”
The only one who shared her point of view was Carolus. Tied in a special execution chair, and still aching with migraines, he let out a few chuckles. He looked satisfied someone appreciated the idea, but he certainly didn’t get a kick out of it like the Queen.
Hiccupping, the Queen walked up, her face red like a pumped tomato. She adjusted her dress, trying to suck the laughs in around her guards. But it was only seconds before she started again.
“May I ask why this is supposed to be so funny, My Queen?” Margaret asked.
“Don’t you get it?” the Queen said. “Imagine a father returns home to his wife and children. He shouts ‘Honey, I’m home,’ And his wife goes like, ‘Why did you come back? I prayed to the Lord that you’d get hit by a train on the way.’ And the husband goes like, ‘Like I haven’t prayed the same thing for you all of those years.’ Then their child walks into the room and says, ‘Papa, you’re fat. And bald. My friends laugh at you. And mama, your cooking sucks.’ And from then on imagine the trail of honesty escalating until someone physically hurts the other.”
Margaret didn’t know whether to laugh or not, but she certainly hadn’t grasped the wickedness of the plague at first. Come to think of it, most of us passed the days by lying to each other.
“Now imagine this happening at work,” the Queen said. “Imagine what kind of atrocities the employees would tell their boss. And so on and so on.”
Then why haven’t I felt the need to swear at you, obnoxious queen, all day? Margaret fidgeted at the thought.
“Imagine you had to tell the truth, Margaret, huh? You’d be spitting in my face now and telling how much you despise me.” The Queen stepped forward to face her assistant. “And what would that lead to? I’d order your head chopped off. But then you’d call the Cheshire before you died and order him to assassinate me. And then I’d give Carolus his Lullaby pill and order him to eat the Cheshire for lunch. Do you now grasp the magnitude of the plague?”
“I guess I do.” Margaret fiddled with the blood-diamond ring on her finger. “Carolus managed to plague the world with the one thing people claim they demand the most. Transparency, honesty, and truth.”
“The only things they are truly—pun intended—not capable of. It’s brilliant!”
Chapter 63
Brazil
It takes me a while to digest the truth about the truth about the truth.
And as the drink’s effect starts to wear off and I start to return to my normal size again, it’s hard to imagine how Carolus came up with the idea. It’s even hard to imagine what a plague of truth would do to this world.
In my mind, I try to think of the asylum as my small rat lab for a truth experiment. What would happen if I told Waltraud and Ogier how I felt about them? I’d end up in perpetual shock therapy until I fried like grilled chicken.
And then what if Waltraud told Dr. Tom Truckle how she thought he was the maddest of all and that he belonged in a cell like every other mushroomer?
And what if Tom told himself he was addicted to his pills? He’d probably admit himself to the asylum.
But what if every Mushroomer in the asylum told the truth? That wouldn’t work, right? Because in truth every Mushroomer believes he is sane.
I haven’t been out in the world much, as far as I can remember at least. So I can’t really judge. But it seems like Carolus’s idea was sinister and effective. Apparently, people aren’t meant to tell the truth to each other.
My eyes start to see things clearer now, but the Scientist’s image is still blurry. I guess it’ll only be minutes until I see who he is. Am I supposed to think he is someone I know?
“And the truth shall set you free,” the Pillar muses. “Free enough to kill one another.”
“Stop looking at the world from that angle,” I tell him.
“Soon there’ll be no angle to see the world from, dear Alice.” The Pillar sighs. “So tell me, Mr. Scientist, shouldn’t lying be a cure for the truth?”
“It should,” the Sci
entist says. “But even if I knew how to cook that kind of cure, how long would it take to reach everyone? The Hookah of Hearts have been sold for more than a year. I designed it to take effect about a year in. Let’s say, hypothetically, I cook a cure of lying now. How will you give it to the people? How long will it take to work?”
“So all this adventure was for nothing?” I tell myself. “At least I saved the kids.”
“And what world will they live in?” the Pillar muses. “Mr. Scientist, there must be a cure.”
I know this tone from the Pillar. He is planning on threatening this man once he retrieves his full vision like me.
And here we go. I can almost see everything in its normal size. Including the Scientist.
But this isn’t quite right, because the Scientist is one of the Reds. I can’t see his face wearing the cloak.
The Pillar, back to normal too, steps forward to pull the cloak, but is immediately stopped by the many other Reds squeezed into this room.
“I wouldn’t come near me again if I were you,” the Scientist says from under his cloak. “Let’s keep it that way.”
My first impression is not to struggle with those Reds. Because let’s think about it. Something here isn’t right.
“Then I assume you have nothing against us leaving.” The Pillar flips his cane and pretends he’s walking away.
“Not so fast, Senor Pillardo.”
The words send a surge of fear through me. Is that the Executioner?
Chapter 64
Queen’s garden, Buckingham Palace, London
“And the beauty of this plague is that it doesn’t affect Wonderlanders,” the Queen continued telling Margaret, “along with most of the South American cities where it was cooked. Fantastic-ballastic!” The Queen hailed.
“Does that mean that ordinary people can’t handle the truth?” one of the guards asked curiously.
“Yes. Of course. Those two-faced hypocrite humans.” The Queen grinned, then her face dimmed all of a sudden, sneering at the guard. “Who gave you permission to speak in the first place? Off with his head!”
Margaret watched the guards take him to execution, not really caring for him. “But truth or no truth, My Queen. We need to find a cure.”
“No, we don’t. I changed my mind,” the Queen exclaimed. “The Jub Jub with the cure. I have a better idea.”
“But you said—”
“Don’t interrupt me, Margaret.” Like a monkey, the Queen jumped on her chair again, pointing a finger straight into Margaret’s eyes. “Forget everything I told you about sending someone after the Pillar.”
“Forget about the Pillar?” Margaret thought the Queen had lost her mind—not that she possessed a healthy one in the first place.
“Yes, Margaret. I have a genius plan. One that, if it succeeds, will have me ruling the world.”
Chapter 65
Brazil
The horror I see on the Pillar’s face is scaring me.
And this time, there is no doubt about it. The Executioner is the Pillar’s bogeyman, not matter how he tries to hide it.
“He doesn’t die,” one of the Reds answers in return. “The Scientist never dies.”
“The Scientist is the Executioner?” I am thinking out loud.
The Reds laugh at me, enjoying it a lot. I want to shut them up and tell them they’re nothing more than playing cards.
“That’s impossible,” the Pillar mumbles.
“Even if he didn’t die in the explosion, why send us here?” I tell them.
“And why hide behind the cloak? It’s not like him.” The Pillar desperately wants to step closer, but is held back by the Reds.
“Maybe he’s disfigured from the bomb. Besides, wasn’t he depicted as a card with clubs for a head in Lewis Carroll’s book?” I comment.
But no one answers me, not even the Pillar. A wicked silence fills the room for a while, and then one of the Reds nudges the Executioner, as if to permit him to talk.
Something isn’t right, but I can’t put my hands on it. I remind myself that we’re wasting time here. We only have twenty-four hours left before the plague reaches irreversible measures like Carolus said on TV.
“It doesn’t matter how I survived,” the Executioner says from behind the darkness of his cloak. “I ordered the Reds to bring you to me for a reason.”
“It’s the key, right?” I say. “You want the Wonderland Key. I’ll give it to you if you give me a cure.” I’m lying, of course. I’ll never give him the key, but I have to try my best. I realize it’s funny that I’m lying to get to the truth.
“I don’t want the key,” the Executioner says. “At least not now.”
“Then what do you want?” I am surprised the Pillar isn’t talking. He keeps staring at the Executioner, wanting to pull off the hood.
“I want you to kill Carolus,” the Executioner says.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I lied to you. The plague is connected to Carolus’s existence. Kill Carolus, and the world is cured.”
Chapter 66
Alice’s House, Oxford
The Cheshire watched Edith and Lorina Wonder locking themselves with their mother inside the house. The three of them seemed to have been some of the few people who’d never tried the Hookah of Hearts. And only those were the uninfected.
It had taken the Cheshire a long time to reach the Wonders’ house. Not only was it the distance between London and Oxford, but he had to possess an infinite number of souls to get here. The driver, the old woman at the ticket booth, the police officer, and at some he’d had to possess a toddler when his mom turned out to be infected while the Cheshire was possessing her.
“Possessing you is a dirty job but somebody has to do it,” he’d mumbled when he’d had to enter a rat’s soul at the end of his ride.
But he stood outside the Wonders’ house in a police officer’s soul, peeking inside to take a better look at Lorina and Edith Wonder.
The two sisters were definitely on the dark side of evil. But were they who the Cheshire was looking for?
The problem with finding Tweedledum and Tweedledee was that, like Alice, none of them could remember their faces. Why? He had no idea.
All he remembered was how scary the twins were. Two lunatics walking through Wonderland. He also knew they were siblings. Brother and sister? Two brothers or two sisters? He couldn’t remember.
Earlier, he had contacted someone who believed he knew who they were in this world, but that man turned out to be a liar. Now, the Cheshire roamed England, searching for the Tweedles.
Why the Tweedles?
Because only they and the Pillar were said to be able to enter Mushroomland and deal with the Executioner.
The Executioner who had once managed to chop off the Cheshire’s head in Wonderland. If it wasn’t for the Cheshire’s knife right now, he’d be dead and gone.
He stuck his face to the window to take another look at Lorina and Edith. Could they be Tweedledum and Tweedledee?
They sure looked like it. But they weren’t twins.
There was one way to find out. To possess one of them. Because the Cheshire, with all his powers, could never possess a Wonderlander.
Since neither of the sisters was going to open the door for anyone in this kill-fest outside, he had no choice but to possess another rat to get inside.
Yikes.
Chapter 67
Brazil
“Then why didn’t you say so when we met in Mushroomland?” the Pillar demands, still held back by the Reds.
“What does it matter?” the Executioner says. “You want to stop the plague. I told you how to stop it.”
“I’ll call Inspector Dormouse.” I pull out my phone. “I know he couldn’t do it, but I’m sure there are excellent police officers who could if he contacted them.”
“That won’t work. Not just anyone can kill Carolus.”
“I didn’t know Carolus could be killed,” the Pillar says. “He is a figm
ent of Carroll’s imagination.”
“True. And only Lewis can kill him.”
“So we’re back to square one again,” I say.
“He wouldn’t have sent for us if that was all of it.” The Pillar points his cane at the Executioner.
“Smart, Senor Pillardo.” The Executioner laughs.
“Is he suggesting I go meet Lewis Carroll through the Tom Tower in London and ask him?” I turn to the Pillar. “We know the Tom Tower doesn’t always work.”
“No, Alice. I don’t think it’s that. He is suggesting that Lewis told you how to kill Carolus.”
Hearing this, I close my eyes, trying to remember if he ever told me. But I am sure he didn’t. “I hate to disappoint the world.” I open my eyes. “But he didn’t tell me how to kill Carolus.”
“Of course he did,” the Executioner says. “Carolus assured me Lewis told you how to kill him.”
“He could have lied to you, just to let you think there was a cure,” the Pillar suggests.
“I know a scared man when I see one, Senor Pillardo.” The Executioner grunts at the Pillar, implying something about their past, which I suspect I will never know. “And Carolus shivered when I mentioned Alice to him.”
In spite of the Executioner having denied my existence and trying to kill me in Mushroomland, I try to think of this as a confirmation that I am the Real Alice. Ironic how killing Lewis Carroll’s split personality is the only way to find out now.
“So.” The Pillar sighs. “I guess that’s it. We know how to stop the plague. Come on, Alice. We have work to do.”
“Is that it?” I wonder. “Don’t you want to know how the Executioner survived?”
“Why would I? Clearly the man is invincible.” The Pillar waves his hand. “Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, I follow his steps to the door, watching the Reds make room for us.
Then the Pillar pulls out his hookah, whips it at Reds, chokes a few of them, and heads straight toward the Executioner.