4. Her Biggest Threat
In which Hatter considers the cause.
When they reached the door to the Great Library, Hatter knocked, and Duck made them go through the whole password rigmarole. Hatter considered it his personal greeting from Dodo—just one more way of letting him know who was in charge.
As they rode the jury-rigged bus-turned-elevator down to the Library, he watched Alice. She was a bit agitated, but she was holding herself together, which he appreciated. This next bit would be tricky.
Sure enough, when the car stopped and the doors opened, there was Owl, her sawn-off shotgun pointed straight at their heads. Owl gestured with the gun, and Hatter and Alice stepped out into the hall, hands raised.
"Why don't we just put these things away?" said Hatter, forcing a smile. "You know me well enough."
"We have our orders," Duck growled.
Hatter rolled his eyes. It hadn't taken him long to get back on Dodo's black list, had it? Last week, one of his scavengers had found a box of books in an abandoned apartment. The kid got a nice pay day, Hatter got a volume of golden age epic poetry, and the local constable got a dozen of those trashy romance novels he loved so much. Dodo got what was left—two nice, leather-bound books of philosophy. Clearly it hadn't been enough.
Dodo thought that, as far as the Library was concerned, he should be the one making all the decisions. Hatter begged to differ. Dodo's temper tantrums weren't anything he couldn't handle.
As for Duck and Owl, all they needed was a little reminder. "Did you like the box of comfits I brought you guys last week?" he asked. "The cured meats and the cheese?"
"They're all gone," Duck said pathetically.
"Well, if you don't treat me with a little respect, you won't get another crumb."
There was a pregnant pause while they considered a dim future with no contraband treats. Finally, Owl lowered her gun.
"Sorry, Hatter," she said. "Everyone's a little jumpy." She turned and led them down the hall.
"Everyone's always a little jumpy," Hatter grumbled, following. These people are going to save Wonderland? he thought. Yeah, and I'm going to be king.
The Resistance were the good guys, sure, but Dodo and his little "army" were useless as a chocolate teapot. They could barely keep the lights on in this place, and that was with Hatter's help. Dodo didn't do any actual work, of course, just reminisced about the Good Old Days, pontificated, and treated Hatter like dirt.
Somewhere out there, Resistance forces were wreaking havoc on the Hearts. Was Hatter risking his life for them? Of course not. He was kowtowing to an arrogant blowhard who once called him "a maggot feeding on Wonderland's rotting corpse."
Sometimes Hatter wondered why he even bothered.
They came around the corner, and Alice got her first view of Wonderland's best kept secret. "Where are we?" she gasped.
"The Great Library. There's five hundred years of history hidden here—art, literature, law—rescued when the Queen of Hearts seized power. She'd like nothing more than to see this burnt to nothing."
Hatter figured the whole place had been a hotel once, and they were looking down on what was left of the ballroom. But while the sculpted ceiling was still hung with crystal chandeliers, the marble floor had been lost under a multitude of books. There were thousands of them, crammed into a hodge-podge maze of shelves, towering in precarious piles on the floor.
And huddled between the beautiful words and dangerous ideas were dozens of hungry, homeless Wonderlanders.
"Who are those poor people?" Alice asked.
"Refugees—those who don't want to be part of the Queen's world of instant gratification. We give them shelter and try to feed them the best we can. If the Queen found out, they wouldn't stand a chance."
Alice leaned on the railing, looking over the refugees, and Hatter did the same, really seeing them for the first time in a long time. They were a motley bunch—a teenage girl rocking a baby, a child trying to get an old woman to eat, a boy and a girl playing "knights" between the stacks, a man reading aloud to a group of knitting women.
They were, far and away, people who had never harmed a soul. But they or their families had somehow defied the Queen—speaking their mind at the wrong time, earning the ire of a Suit or Tea peddler, reading the old stories to their children.
And for daring to have hope, for daring to wish that Wonderland were as it should be, they'd lost their homes, their families, and their futures, in exchange for life in this book-filled twilight, where Wonderland kept all her treasures hidden together.
As he watched them, Hatter suddenly remembered something his granddad used to tell him when he'd gotten in a scrape and come home black and blue—something he hadn't thought about in years.
"Fight like a knight," the old man would say, his eyes blazing, "not 'cause you hate somebody, not 'cause they called you 'trash.' You fight when have to protect something good. Otherwise you're just a thug."
Always the knight, his granddad, even when mucking out somebody else's stables. He would have loved this place, Hatter thought. If anyone is weak and needs shielding, it's these people.
Forget Dodo. They're why you bother, Hatter. You'd let her have your head before you gave them up.
"Why does the Queen want to destroy all of this?" Alice asked.
"Wisdom is her biggest threat. She controls people with a quick fix." Or she destroys them, one after another.
Hatter "reinvested" about a quarter of the Queen's profit in supplies for the Great Library, thanks to some creative accounting. But it was never enough. There were people they couldn't take in because they couldn't trust them or didn't have room. There were food shortages and coal shortages and epidemics. And just when you thought you were holding your own, a bunch of idealistic kids left to join the fight and never came back.
It really would break your heart, if you let it.
Hatter turned to Alice, and what he saw amazed him. Her sadness—for complete strangers—had changed to fierce anger.
She is utterly mad, he thought, and had to stop himself from smiling. Because he'd caught himself wondering if, just maybe, this Alice was the kind of person who could bring down the Queen.
He sighed. Don't be making her into your hero again, Hatter. She couldn't even walk down the street on her own, remember? Do you really want her to die in some stupid Resistance scheme—Alice from another world, who doesn't owe you anything? She's not on some quest to save Wonderland. She just wants to find her boyfriend and go home.
Good thing, too. People like Alice didn't last long in Wonderland.
That was the problem with all this hero business, all the stories about honor and glory—they had nothing to do with real life. Hatter couldn't think of a single one about running from the Suits, or scraping together enough for a meal, or filling someone's pockets with rocks and dropping them into a canal because you couldn't afford to bury them. How exactly were you supposed to be a knight in a place like Wonderland?
Besides, he reminded himself, the Resistance already had enough idealistic fools. What they needed was a smart businessman. What they needed was Hatter, bringing in the cash and keeping everyone off their backs. And since Hatter's value to the Resistance depended on his perfect record with the Suits, he needed to stay as far away from escaped Oysters as possible.
That's right, you daft romantic, he reminded himself. You do not go on quests. You did your part, and now the Resistance will do theirs. It is time to close this deal.
Because this was businesses—business for the "greater good" and all, but still business. Alice was going to have to learn, like he learned: nothing in Wonderland comes for free. She was willing to risk her life for her boyfriend? Fantastic. Hopefully she'd be willing to sacrifice her ring instead.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go meet Dodo."
And get this over with.