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 Scientist 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!”