Her telephone rang. It was Margaret.
“Queen of England speaking,” she said, liking the sound of it. In her mind, being the Queen of England seemed cooler than the Queen of Wonderland.
“I know it’s you,” Margaret sighed on the line. “I called you on your private phone, so it has to be you.”
“Oh.” the Queen scratched her head. “So tell me, have you found anything out about the Chessmaster?”
“Nothing,” Margaret said. “None of us remember him from Wonderland.”
“He said he wasn’t a Wonderland Monster.”
“Which puzzles me. If he isn’t, why lure The Pillar and Alice to find Carroll’s Knight? And why do his puzzles scream ‘Wonderland’?”
“I agree. He knows a lot about us. Do you think he knows about our plans?”
“I can’t say.”
“So you’re useless like always, Margaret,” she said and kicked her son’s head toward her dogs. Her doctors hadn’t found a proper way to knit his head to his body again, let alone bring him back to life.
“I’m not,” Margaret said with a challenge. “Something happened to Fabiola a few minutes ago.”
“Fabiola?” the Queen of Hearts felt a lump grow bitter in her throat. “What happened?”
“I am sorry to say this, but I think she is dying. It seems she’s been poisoned.”
“When did this happen?”
“I was waiting for you to ask me this.”
“Why?”
Margaret took her time and spoke clearly. “Because our White Queen was poisoned right after Alice and The Pillar found the chess piece, which is that of a…”
“A White Queen, too…” the Queen of Hearts slumped in her chair. “Is that supposed to mean something?”
“I can’t tell, but it’s far from being a coincidence.”
Chapter 29
The Pillar’s Plane
I am not sure how much I’ve slept, but when I wake up it seems like more than seven hours have passed. I rub my eyes to take a better look outside my window.
I can’t believe what I am seeing.
We’re flying low, gliding over a white snowy mountain in the middle of nowhere. The Pillar next to me is still flying the plane and listening to some Asian chanting melodies.
“Where are we?”
“Beautiful isn’t?” he says and keeps chanting, meeha tu tu chi or something like that.
“I asked you where we are.”
“First, you have to admit it’s beautiful.”
“Ok, it’s beautiful. Where are we?”
“Here,” he points at something that’s revealing itself in the snow.
I squint and lean forward, waiting for the structures emerging out of the snow to make sense to me. Either my mind refuses to believe it or I am hallucinating.
“Is this a Buddha structure?” I point with an open mouth.
The Pillar nods, pointing. “This one is Buddha, that is Duddha, the one on the left is Nuddha.”
“I’ve never learned of the last two.”
“They’re Buddha’s sisters, but no one ever mentions them because they were girls. You know how condescending religions are toward women.”
I neglect his remark. It’s The Pillar. No changing the way he views the world. I keep watching the structure behind the huge statues revealing itself. “It’s a monastery?”
“Jackpot!” The Pillar skews the plane, ready to land. “We’re in Tibet, baby? I hope you brought your orange robe along.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“We’re somewhere near Burang, China. Tibet’s autonomous region.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are we here?”
“This is where IBM keeps their Deep Blue machine,” The Pillar says with a happy face, already waving to a few monks waiting for us below.
“Why in here? This seems like the last place on Earth to hide such a machine.”
“You said it yourself. Bury a genius machine in a monastery in the snow. Genius.” He reaches for something in the back with one hand. “Here. You have to get dressed in this.”
I grab the monk’s cloth. “Do you want me to dress up in this?”
“We have to act like monks or they won’t let us see the machine. Trust me, you’ll love it here.”
Before I have a chance to argue, the plane lands with consecutive thuds onto the snow. It’s such a clumsy landing that most of our plane’s nose is buried in white, and there is something burning in the back.
“My best landing yet,” The Pillar says. “The last one, everyone died but me.”
Chapter 30
Outside Burang, China, Tibet Autonomous Region
The beautiful monks welcome us in their orange and red robes as if they hadn’t seen people outside their tribe in years.
I trot in my new boots The Pillar gave me and feel the chill of cold, though I’m wearing a lot of layers of orange. A few steps closer, I realize The Pillar is still inside the plane.
“Pillar? What’s keeping you behind?” I turn and say.
It’s only seconds before he appears from behind the plane. He is wearing a lush orange robe and looks pretty much like a Tibetan monk now. Not just because of the robe, but because he’s shaved his head bald.
“Seriously?” I grit my teeth.
“I am an expert in communication and we need to blend in. Most monks here are bald, so I figured I should too.”
“Do you know how long it’ll take for your hair to grow back?”
“They’ve got pills for that now,” he says. “I didn’t like to comb and wash my hair each day anyways. Always wanted to feel the drizzle of water on my bald head in the shower. It was on my bucket list.”
A closer look, I realize it’s a wig. A bald wig.
Behind us, Tibetans approach us. They speak in a language I don’t understand, but an old man, presumably their leader, smiles broadly and holds me gently by the shoulder.
I bow my head with respect, not knowing what to say.
“Alice of Wonderland!” The old man switches to English.
“You know me?”
“Who doesn’t?” He pulls out a copy of Through the Looking Glass, this one with a red cover.
“You’ve been reading about me?” I am flattered.
“In Chinese!” He shows me that the copy is in their own language. Everything is read from top to bottom instead from left to right. “The monks are crazy about you here.”
“Oh.” I am speechless, wondering if monks dismiss their prayers to read a children’s book.
The old man nears me, whispering, “The monks spend their time chasing rabbits in the snow, wishing they’d fall into a hole. It’s either prayers or rabbit holes around here. I’m Xian, like Xiangqi, named after Tibetan chess game.”
“Nice to meet you, Xian,” I say. “You have your own chess here?”
“The oldest in the world,” he says proudly. “They will tell you the one in Marostica is the oldest, but they don’t know squat.”
“Squat?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I learned English in Brooklyn, New York.” He laughs. “You know our chess game is said to contain the secret of the universe. The Nazis sent their expeditions to Tibet, wanting to find out about it.”
“Nazis.” I frown. “And squat.”
“Or crap.” He mirrors my eyebrows.
“So I assume you know this man.” I switch my glance toward The Pillar, assuming he may recognize him as the Caterpillar from the books, too.
The old man turns and faces the bald Pillar, and his smile broadens. “Of course I know him,” he says. “Who doesn’t know the famous Cao Pao Wong?”
Chapter 31
“Cao Pao Wong?” I glare at The Pillar.
“Better than Kung Fu Panda.” The Pillar remarks.