Peter Priper Ch 11

The Queen of Hearts stood at the edge of the pond and surveyed the scene. In the water two poor girls were thrashing and gasping for breath. There was a lineup of naked people at the dock, begging for mercy and trying desperately to cover themselves. One well-groomed man in his thirties was trying to bribe the prepper who was cuffing his hands. "I'll give you five thousand euros if you let me put on some pants! Ten thousand! Please!"

"This all seems fine," said the Queen.

"They don't sound happy," said Retta.

"Being stripped naked and chained to random people builds character. Especially for Diamonds. They're so prissy about things like that."

The King of Diamonds looked down his nose at her. "The good thing is, the Hearts and Clubs are being humiliated too. They need to be reminded who's really in charge on this island."

"Where is the King of Clubs?" said the Queen.

"Phuket, last I heard."

"Typical. So we're in agreement. This is all fine."

"Fine," said the King, and crossed his arms.

"I do think we should cut things off before it gets out of hand," said the Queen. "There's a rumour the preppers are planning executions."

"Unlikely. They don't even know how to execute anyone."

"I'm sure they don't, but by the third or fourth try they might figure it out."

"I'll have them stand down. Just in case." He snapped his fingers at his Jack, a heavyset boy in a sort of boarding-school uniform with a jacket and shorts, but all red. "Send word to the prepper leader that they're to stop this at once."

"You'll need to do more than that," said the Queen.

"My subjects obey my commands. We're not all anarchists like your suit."

"Darling," which she only called him because she knew he would hate it-he still called every couple weeks, and she just let it go to voicemail, because she wasn't his type, whether he knew it or not-"this is hysteria. We lost control of it long ago. You try to stop the preppers now, and they'll start thinking that you're covering up for the Spadists. Then who will they go after?"

The King wore a poker face. That was how he had risen to his position, a poker game with the previous king where the stakes got way out of hand. But the Queen of Hearts knew him well, and she could tell what he was thinking even if he didn't show it. He said, "My subjects would never dream of suspecting me of harbouring Spadists." But she knew what he was thinking was that she was right.

"We need a scapegoat," she said.

"What's a scapegoat?" said Retta.

"A scapegoat, sweetie, is someone that nobody likes very much, who turns out to be a Spadist even if nobody would have expected that."

Retta thought. "Nobody likes Henry."

"He'll do." The Queen turned to the Jack of Diamonds. "We'll need that prepper leader now."

The boy scratched his head. "Do you mean Violet Larson?"

The King slapped the back of his head. "She was gone weeks ago, Jack."

"Really? She was here giving orders like ten minutes ago."

The King's poker face vanished. His face went red and his eyelid twitched. "If that girl is back I swear I will-"

"Don't even think about it," said the Queen. "Violet's in my suit now. You can't touch her." She waved to the prepper girl who seemed to be in charge of the dock. "Mabel! MABEL!"

The girl froze, then curtsied awkwardly. "I'm Ethel, your Majesty."

"Whatever. Stop what you're doing and get the word out. The Spadist has been found. You should arrest Henry Hindburger, the Four of Hearts, and bring him to your King."

"Wait-to me?" The King frowned. "We don't have procedures for dealing with captured Spadists. I'll have to strike a royal commission on the matter. You take him for a week until we're ready."

"Norbert, seriously." The Queen chuckled. "Not everything needs a procedure. Just go with what feels right. Improvise. You know what, I'll send over a torture basket."

"A what?"

"There'll be some nice new whips and handcuffs, candles, scented lubricants, books on the Spanish Inquisition, that sort of thing. You hang Henry up in the dungeon and have a look through the basket. See what ideas you come up with." She smiled at him. "Just enjoy yourself."

#

They were at it again, fucking desperately, barely touching each other, just him thrusting and her riding.

"Okay, I'm almost there," Cedric gasped. "You get off me and-"

"Not right now," Trudy moaned. "I'm too close. Just hold off for one more minute."

"Trudy, honey, I don't think I can last that long." He put his head back. "Unsexy thoughts. Um, being tied up by maniacs and probably going to die. The alternative minimum tax. Janice from HR's moustache."

"No unsexy thoughts!" Trudy said. "Focus on me! Only thoughts about me!"

"But...what...about...the...oh, fuck!" he said at the same time that she yelled out, "Oh my God oh oh!"

She tensed and then collapsed on top of him. After a minute or so she raised a sweaty cheek and said, "Simultaneous. Can you believe it?"

"Yeah. But."

"Oh, right," she said.

"It wouldn't have worked anyway."

Trudy would have disputed that, but she was too busy panting. She lay her head on his chest. For a while she toyed with his hair, and listened to a squirrel scurry around in the branches above them.

"I'm bored. Let's fuck."

"I thought," said Cedric, "we were going to think of ways we could get free."

"Fucking is good for the brain. Gets the blood flowing. I do my best thinking while I'm being nailed hard."

Cedric scrabbled down a bit until their faces were level, and kissed her. "Sure, whatver. It's worth a shot."

#

I had to find Trudy. Like the genie said, she was in grave peril. I did stop off at the market to clean up a bit-some of my jizz had ended up on me-and got a quick snack because I was famished. Well, it would have been quick, except that I sat there for the longest time waiting for someone to bring me a damn menu. Until, finally, I remembered that I was literally invisible. If I talk, of course, I stop being invisible. But typical Canadian that I am, I didn't want to go up and ask for a menu. It seemed rude.

So other than that one croissant, and one refill of my iced tea, I let nothing stop me from saving Trudy from certain death. I crept through the woods, praying the preppers didn't catch me. It turned out she was easy to find. I just had to listen for her voice, because she damn well never shut up.

"On an ongoing basis, absolutely, but non-exclusive."

"Non-exclusive?" said a male voice.

"I'm not monogamous, Cedric, and I have no plans to be. Full disclosure: I live with a priper, and he's-well, if we don't die horribly, you'll meet him, he's nice enough. I use him as my fucktoy when it suits me."

"I guess I'm okay with that." His voice sounded very unselfconfident.

"You have no reason to be jealous of him. He's really only good as an orgasm machine and for making snarky comments. There are a couple other boys that I sleep with occasionally, but you don't need to be jealous of them either. They all have fatal character flaws."

"I'm seeing someone too," said the male voice. "It's not serious, though. It's this girl I met larping a few months ago."

"You should keep seeing her," said Trudy. "Our torrid affair will be much torrider if you have to keep it secret."

"I already have to keep it secret," the male voice mumbled. "I am sort of abetting embezzlement. Oh, shit, someone's coming. We're going to die now. Trudy, it was nice knowing you. Especially in the Biblical sense."

I found them a few seconds later. Trudy was chained up to a blond boy, lying in the dirt, her hair matted with sweat.

"You know," I said, "your average orgasm machine doesn't save you from certain death."

Trudy's face brightened. "Oh, good. You have a third use. Cedric, this is the ambulatory dildo I was telling you about. We call him Peter, for obvious reasons."

"The obvious reason being that it's my name."

"Whatever," said Trudy. "This is Cedric. Cedric is a, um..."

"Video game designer," said Cedric. "Also a professional windsurfer. And a volunteer firefighter."

"It turns out we were in school together," said Trudy.

"Veterinary school," said Cedric. "I did that before I studied programming."

"He worked with gnus," said Trudy. "And then GNU. So it was a natural transition."

I knelt down and started unlocking their cuffs. "You two are perfect for each other. You're even finishing each other's lies."

Trudy sighed. "You see what I mean about the snarky comments?"

#

I uncuffed or untied every one of the preppers' victims that I could find. I felt good-I'd saved lots of people that day. There was the one pair that asked me to come back later, as if I had nothing better to do all day than wait for them to finish screwing. And the other pair. Actually, it was most of them. God, this island is fucked up.

Yet there were no preppers around at all. When I ran into Retta, she said they had all gone to get a space goat. I didn't ask.

Trudy and Cedric followed us around, not helping, just giving each other significant looks and whispering to each other. When it was time to go home, they kissed for a long time, and then again, and again, until Retta had to get in there and pry the two of them apart. "Text me," Trudy called as Cedric left. About thirty seconds later her phone buzzed. We walked home, Trudy bent over her phone the entire time, thumbs furiously tapping away. Retta had to walk next to her and tug at her arm to keep her from running into trees.

The sun had set by the time we got back to the mushroom, and the lanterns that hung around the yard were all lit. The table was covered with a buffet of pizzas and Chinese takeout boxes. Millie was lying on the loveseat in a bathrobe chewing idly on a chicken wing.

"Were you okay?" said Retta. "I'm so sorry, we were gone way longer than we meant to."

Millie frowned in a very deliberate way. "No, it was awful. I spent the entire afternoon chained up to a drainpipe, with complete strangers coming up to the house and using me in disgusting ways."

"Oh, no!" said Retta. "That's terrible."

"It wouldn't have been so bad," said Millie, "except that someone, I have no idea who, kept having takeout delivered. I swear half the delivery boys on the island had their way with me. But we do have lots of food, so help yourself."

Retta leaned over the table. "Pizza with pineapple and black olives again? You're the only person on the island who actually likes that."

"I had pretty much the same day," I said as I collapsed into a chair. "Tied to a chair and fucked. Tied to a tree and fucked. Lather, rinse, repeat."

"You love it," said Millie. "You get a huge boner every time."

"I have a huge boner all the time!"

She shrugged. "Did you find Violet? Please tell me that you took time out of your busy day to find Violet."

"Did I find her?" I rolled my eyes. "She tied me up both times."

"I regret nothing," came Violet's voice. Millie sat up and grinned. Then, behind Violet, the preppers in their black outfits emerged from the shadows.

"What are they doing here?" said Millie.

One thumb still tapping away, Trudy pulled the fuckulator out of her purse. She brandished it at the preppers without looking up from her phone. A few blue sparks shot out of the bulb. They hung back by the garden gate.

Violet kissed Millie, then plopped down on the couch and sighed. "I had to fight my way back to being leader of the preppers, then organize an entire inquisition. I must have strip-searched a hundred people. We even ran out of handcuffs. By the end we were tying people up with their own shoelaces. Nobody eat the beef with black bean sauce. I'm starved and I'm calling dibs on it."

"You never answered my question." Millie pointed to the preppers. "Why are they here?"

"They followed me home, Mom, can I keep them?"

"No," said Millie. "You are supposed to be my bitch. You don't get to be in a gang."

Violet leaned back on the couch and put her feet in Millie's lap. "Then I want a footrub. And it has to be a good one."

Daisy approached the table tentatively, the other preppers following a few paces behind her. "Violet? You said you just had to swing by here to get something."

"Yeah." Violet prodded Millie's hand with a toe. "A footrub and that entire beef dish. Just shovel it into my mouth."

"But you're coming back with us, aren't you?"

Violet closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Daisy. I'm not."

Daisy looked perplexed. "We can order Chinese too."

"I like it here," said Violet. "I like being a Heart."

"But you came back to the gang," said Daisy. "You can't just show up whenever you feel like it."

"Yeah," said a redhead. "You're in or you're out."

"Why?" said Violet.

"That's a dumb question," said the redhead.

"I'm serious," said Violet. "Why can't I be a Heart and hang out with you guys sometimes?"

"Because you can't!" said the redhead. "This conversation is stupid and I refuse to have it. You just wait till Lily gets out of the bath. She's going to be pissed."

"Ethel. Chill."

"You can't be a part-time prepper!" shouted Ethel.

"Why not?" said Violet. "We spent most of our time in Cecil's basement playing Mario Kart."

"I remember," said Retta slowly. "From court with the Queen..." She scratched her chin, deep in thought. I could almost hear the starter turning over, again and again, and her brain not engaging.

"Well, you can't be a prepper and a Heart at the same time!" Ethel brandished her nails. "I should have scratched your eyes out when I had the chance."

Violet slumped down and said nothing. Millie looked at her with a pained expression, as if she wanted to comfort her but didn't know how. She took one of Violet's feet and started massaging it.

"No. Yeah. I do remember," said Retta. "I have an idea."

"Fine, just sit there, you fucking dyke," said Ethel. "The old Violet never sat around going, Oh, I want to be a Heart, oh, I want to be a prepper, oh, I can't make up my mind."

"What about my idea?" said Retta.

Violet pulled her feet away from Millie and stood up. "Do you want me to break your fucking jaw, Ethel," she said in a tone of voice that suggested she was about five seconds from doing it.

"Oh, no you don't," said Millie. "You can get out of my yard if you want to do that. I'm stick of you traipsing around playing thug."

Violet didn't look at her. She was pale. "Millie, stay out of it."

"GUYS!" Retta yelled. "Listen to my idea! I can solve this!" She started to do jumping jacks. Once everyone was staring at her, she cleared her throat and said, "I'm Jack of Hearts."

"We noticed," said Violet.

"I wasn't done yet. Because I'm Jack of Hearts, um." She frowned. "I can point Violet, um, something, and she can laze with the preppers in a fishy pasta."

Millie burst into laughter. "Retta, at least you know how to take the tension down a notch."

"Suit security liaison," said Trudy. At first I wasn't sure if she was even talking to us, since she was still staring at her phone. But she continued, "Retta can appoint Violet suit security liaison."

"That is probably what I meant," said Retta.

"And when Violet hangs out with the preppers," Trudy was still tapping away at her phone, "it would constitute liaising with the Diamond security forces in an official capacity. Which is a pretty good idea."

Retta raised her arms in triumph. "Who saved the day?"

"You did, sweetie." I thought it might be condescending to pat her on the head, so I patted her ass instead.

"Now, then. I will do this." Retta looked worriedly at Trudy. "How do I do things?"

Trudy shrugged. "It's never come up before."

Retta grabbed a chopstick off the table. "Violet, kneel before me."

"That's only for knighting people," said Trudy.

"And it is night, so this is how we're doing it."

Violet went down on one knee in front of Retta, who said, "By the powers vested in me-my vest is upstairs, Trudy, should I get my vest?"

"You don't need your vest," Trudy muttered.

"It has tassels on it," Retta said to me.

"Focus, honey," I replied.

"Right. By the powers in my vest, I, um, make that thing that Trudy said happen." She touched each of Violet's shoulders with the chopstick. "And may all your dreams come true and you live happily ever after."

#

The paperboy went down to the beach. There were a couple people a few hundred yards down from him. Probably too far away for them to see anything. He took a key attached to a string out of his pocket, and put it around his neck. Then he stripped off his clothes and waded into the water.

He swam out past the breakers, glanced back to make sure no one was watching, and headed for the periscope. In the dark it was invisible from the beach-even out this far, he could only see it in the troughs of the waves. He held onto it while he knocked on the hatch. No answer. He pressed his ear against the cold metal. There was a mechanical thudding, like a machine on the verge of breaking down, and someone shouting hoarsely over top of it. Either the sub's reactor was about to explode, or she was playing Meshuggah at full volume again. He unlocked the hatch and let himself in.

Waiting for him just inside the airlock was a clean white shirt with baggy sleeves and laces that tied up in front. He put it on, and a pair of black pants, and a frock-coat. Peering at himself the little mirror on the wall, he applied eyeshadow. A drop of water came down from his hair. It went through the makeup and kept descending, leaving a black mark on his cheek like a tear. Perfect, he thought. I will look so good for my Queen.

Raven Nightshade the Third, Queen of the House of Spades, was a kind and generous monarch; she turned down the music as soon as he entered the parlour. There was a pot of tea waiting for him next to an armchair. The Queen sat down across from him. She was so beautiful-she wore a frilly skirt and a corset, with black kneesocks. Her hair was long and straight and also black, except for one red lock. When she sipped her tea, the cup clinked against her lip ring.

"Von Blutkrieger," she said, addressing him by his true name. Well, the name he had chosen. His parents still insisting on calling him Phil. "Was your mission successful? Did your newspaper article sow fear among the islanders?"

He swallowed. "More than I could have imagined."

Queen Raven smiled. "We should thank Hades for that. I will light a candle for him tonight." Von Blutkrieger glanced at the shrine she had set up in the corner. The Queen hadn't been able to find a picture of Hades that she liked, so she'd put one of Glenn Danzig up instead. "And are we prepared for phase two of the infiltration?"

Von Blutkrieger sipped the tea. It was chamomile. The Queen didn't like caffeine in the evenings. "Frankly, your Majesty-it's a bad idea."

"A bad idea?"

"They scare me," he said in a small voice.

She looked at him with shock.

"They're crazy. They're absolutely insane. We need to worry about them infiltrating us. You couldn't even imagine what they did to each other, just because of the one little article we planted in the paper. They turned on each other. The whole island went Lord of the Flies." He shuddered. "Hold me? Please?"

The Queen rushed over to him, her skirt rustling. She held his head against her, and he sobbed into her corset. "It's all right, von Blutkrieger," she cooed. "It'll be all right. Those awful Hearts and Diamonds won't hurt you."