“So it’s really happening?”
“Wars are inevitable, my lousy driver.” The Pillar stood up and elegantly flipped his cane. “Victories aren’t.”
“Wars like these?” The chauffeur turned on the TV. The six o’clock news was covering the incident with the creepy Lewis Carroll look-a-like claiming he’d spread an incurable plague to the world.
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg,” the Pillar said. “I hope you didn’t smoke any of those toy hookahs yourself.”
“Not at all, Professor. I’m not into puffing bubbles,” the chauffeur prided himself. “But if I may ask: is the plague real?”
“Looks too real, in fact.”
The chauffeur wasn’t sure what that meant.
“Get my plane ready,” the Pillar said, slowly easing into a better mood.
“That plane is in the Vatican. You just let Alice use it this morning.”
“Not that plane.” The Pillar knocked his cane against the floor.
The chauffeur swallowed hard. “You mean the War Plane?”
The Pillar nodded, momentarily closing his eyes. “In fact, I want all my planes ready and handy. The choppers, too. Don’t forget the guns.”
They hadn’t used the planes since the Pillar went on a rampage, killing twelve people some time ago. “Where are we going, Professor?”
“We’re going to pay a visit to darkness itself,” the Pillar said, diverting his focus on the broadcasting news. “Welcome home Lewis Carroll. It’s been some time.”
Chapter 4
The Eagle and Bird Bar, Oxford
An hour after the Pillar left
I received the Pillar’s call a few hours ago while I was still in the Vatican. He’d given me the address to the Inklings bar with the location of its key in a Tiger Lily pot beside the door.
I picked up the key and entered the place. On the table, there was a contract in my name. The Pillar bought me the headquarters of my Inklings gathering place.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time to look at the historical signatures of the likes of Tolkien and C.S. Lewis on the walls. I was stopped, and shocked, by the news about the Lewis Carroll man on TV
Now I am standing, staring at the TV in awkward awe.
Is this for real?
The man in the news looks just like the Lewis Carroll I saw through the Tom Tower and Einstein’s Blackboard.
Lewis Carroll is a Wonderland Monster?
“This can’t be,” I say to emptiness.
“I thought so, too.” The Pillar’s chauffeur appears out of nowhere. “But whoever he is, you need to look at this.”
He points at the BBC’s world coverage of what looks like people coughing red bubbles all over the world.
The BBC says that doctors haven’t found a medical explanation for it. Nothing in the hookahs shows a hostile infection of any sort. Still, it’s spreading fast, and they’re worried it’ll lead to a disaster in a few hours.
“The Pillar assured me this is the beginning of an unimaginable plague,” the chauffeur says.
“People coughing red bubbles. What kind of plague is that?”
“The Pillar said you’d say that, so he recorded this little video for you.” He shows me a YouTube video on his phone.
“Think about it, Alice. Have you ever seen anyone cough bubbles, let alone red? Do as my chauffeur tells you.” The Pillar drags from his hookah. “Ah, and don’t forget to sign the contract. Congrats, you own a bar now. At least you have a job, in case you lose your career as a magnificent lunatic patient in the asylum.”
The video ends.
I look at the contract, not sure if I should accept a half a million pound gift. I tell myself Fabiola would accept it; the Inklings is part of the prophecy.
I sign both the Pillar’s and my copy, not reading through.
As I hand it back to the chauffeur, I glimpse a condition in the contract written at the bottom of the page:
The two parties who share the Inklings Bar are bound by the agreement in this contract for an unknown time. The contract is automatically cancelled once Alice saves the world from every last Wonderland Monster.
“Would you kindly seal the envelope?” the chauffeur suggests. “The Pillar demanded you seal his copy yourself so I don’t peek into it.”
“Trust issues?” I roll my eyes, both at the request and the lines in the contract, then lick the envelope to seal it.
But it’s a short roll of eyes, and a shorter lick, only half way through. I find myself swirling down to the floor like a dying flower.
The envelope’s tip contains some kind of sedative. The Pillar’s drugged me again.
Chapter 5
Pillar’s Plane,
Somewhere next to a mushroom cloud
I wake up to the suffocating and blurry waves of hookah smoke.
Coughing, I part the drapes of smoking curtains and feel my way through this delirium. At the end of the maze, I come to find the Pillar sitting on his favorite couch, dragging and puffing while fiddling with his hookah’s hose.