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As they crested the peak again, they both looked to the next car, where Mary's children peered out, hopelessly cramped and tangled in their rotating cell.
"So," asked Mary, "which will it be? Jailer ... or Emperor?"
Chapter 18 The Interlight Incubator
A pronouncement was made the following day. All of Pugsy's Afterlights were called out to the Court of Honor to hear it, as were all of Mary's children, who were released from their revolving prison without as much as an apology.
Mary and Pugsy stood side by side at the podium, although he stood on a box so he would appear as tall as her.
"I'm pleased to announce a new alliance between myself and Mary Hightower, Governess of the East," Pugsy told the masses. "This will usher in a new age in Everlost." Then he ordered everyone to celebrate.
There was a feast of crossed food--not all that much to eat, for even in Chicago edible pickings were slim, but it was the idea that counted, and everyone was in good spirits-- even the Chicago kids, who, for once, had reason to cheer rather than to despair.
Mary allowed her children to mingle with the Chicago Afterlights, knowing that at the end of the celebration they would happily return to the comfort and routine of the Hindenburg. Pugsy's three henchmen now treated Mary with the utmost respect, and would attempt to stand behind her and fold their arms as they did for Pugsy. Mary would have none of it. She didn't need bodyguards.
"Go practice your intimidation elsewhere," she told them.
"Of course, Miss Mary," they would obsequiously reply, as if being irritatingly polite would win her favor.
The skinjacking girl was a different matter. She moved in Pugsy's inner circle, but seemed immune to his rules. In fact, Mary noticed that Pugsy rarely ordered her to do anything, probably for fear that she would say "no." The girl was like a cat, doing as she pleased, knowing she could get away with it.
It was toward the end of the celebration that she sidled up to Mary, to engage her in conversation for the first time.
"It took only two revolutions of the wheel for you to get Pugsy in your pocket," she said. "You must be a witch after all."
"I could say the same about you," said Mary. "You certainly look the part."
The skinjacker fluffed her tangled hair, but not a single nettle fell from it. "Didn't you write 'It's patently wrong to hold an Afterlight responsible for the circumstance of their demise, and one should never make fun of unfortunate clothing and unexpected accessories'?"
Mary was not pleased to have her own words used against her, but the skinjacker was right. Mary was breaking one of her own rules of etiquette. She took a moment to compose herself. "I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot," Mary said. "You know who I am, but I'm afraid we've never been properly introduced. May I ask your name?"
"I'm Jill," she said. "My friends call me Jackin' Jill."
"Well, Jill," said Mary, "I suspect things will be changing around here. I sincerely hope you do well with change."
Jackin' Jill nodded, but said nothing. Even so, Mary felt that they were both on better ground than when they started. Of course it didn't change her opinion of skinjackers, but if there was to be a shining new world order, everyone would have a part to play.
Mary found that she had free run of the fair. She could explore all places, interact with all of Pugsy's Afterlights-- but one place was off-limits. The glass-domed agricultural building. All entrances were perpetually guarded, and when Mary questioned Pugsy about it, he merely said, "It's my business. If you got a problem with it, too bad."
On her third night of freedom, Mary decided it was time to rid Chicago of its secrets. She went to the agricultural building alone, circling it, counting the entrances--five in all--and searching out the guard who looked the least intelligent, and most unhappy in his situation. She found the perfect specimen at the northeast entry.
"Good evening," she said, as she approached. She tried to get past him and through the door without slowing down, but the guard put out his hand and she intentionally bumped into it. It had the desired effect--he looked embarrassed at having touched her.
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, as indignantly as she could. "I'm sorry, Miss Mary," he said, "but no one's allowed to come in here."
"But haven't you heard? Your boss and I have a partnership, which means I have no secrets from him, and he has none from me. Now could you please open the door and let me pass?"
The guard looked uncertain, like this might be a trick question. "I'm sorry, but without a direct order from the Death Boss--"
"Just a few days into our partnership, and our agreement is already being broken," said Mary in an exaggerated huff. "I'll have to take this up with Mr. Capone. What's your name?"
What began as mild awkwardness now turned into sheer terror. "Why do you need to know my name?"
"Never mind," she said, looking him up and down. "I'm sure I can describe you well enough to Mr. Capone."
"But ... but we're not allowed to let anyone in without a direct order... ." His voice had become whiny and pleading. All it took was a silent glare and he caved, not only letting her in, but opening the door, with a bow, and closing it behind her.
She wasn't quite sure what she was expecting to see, but Mary, who had seen just about everything was rarely caught off guard. This was one of those times.
