Everwild

"I know, but I always forget."

Speedo rose from the chair he had hidden behind, and threw a rag to Milos to clean himself, but it was much too small to do the job.

Mary was not bothered by the deluge--she would have someone clean it later. What mattered was the news the Sniffer brought back with him. And what news it was! "How marvelous! How absolutely marvelous!" she said after he told her what he had learned. It was exactly the information she needed. She now knew not only Nick's location, but the size of his vapor, and where he was going. And as for this "Ripper" he seemed to have acquired, how much damage could she do, really? The ripper was just one against a thousand.

Mary stood up, her plan already taking shape in her mind. She would see Nick again, and she would see him soon ... but it would be on her terms.

"Well, if the Chocolate Ogre has gone to Memphis to find Allie the Outcast, I think we should meet him there. A thousand of ours--against four hundred of his!"

Milos just stood there, a little shell-shocked by the sudden shift of direction. It was the first time she noticed he held a bottle of ... was that champagne?

Speedo, as always, was wary. "You had a thousand last time ... and you know what happened."

The memory only made Mary more determined. "Last time he went behind my back. So this time, we'll sneak behind his!"

"There's one more thing," the Sniffer said. "I smelled something ... nasty ... that was also moving toward Memphis. I'm not sure what it was, but if I didn't know better, I'd think it was the McGill."

It caught Mary off guard. She felt her afterglow sputter liked a burner low on gas. She hoped no one saw it. "The McGill no longer exists," she proclaimed. "In fact, he never did. Speedo! Make a note that I should point out the nonexistence of the McGill in my next book."

"Yes, Miss Mary."

And then she turned to Milos. He still stood there dripping with the Sniffer's unpleasantness. Even so, she found she wanted to embrace him, but restrained herself. "Milos, I asked you to be patient, and now your patience will be rewarded." Then she went to her bookshelf. "We will defeat the Ogre in Memphis, and from there we will begin our crusade to unite the East and the West." Mary ran her finger over the book spines, then pulled out the heavy volume on Civil Engineering.

Milos was amused. "Don't tell me--you wish me to build a bridge in your honor!"

"Not exactly." She held it out to him. "I want you to study this--because in this book are the blueprints for every bridge that crosses the Mississippi River."

"Yes, but these are all living-world bridges," Milos pointed out. "They are of no use to us."

Mary put the book firmly into his hands. "Come now, Milos," she said with a smile that, on anyone else but Mary Hightower, might be called wicked, "I think you're much smarter than that."

She sent Milos to clean up, and requested she meet him in the non-slimed Portside Promenade, on the opposite side of the ship, when he was done.

Milos was still reeling from this change in circumstance. All of them leaving Chicago, a war with the Chocolate Ogre, and the possibility of Allie being brought into the mix. But then this might not be a bad thing. This battle could provide him an opportunity to make himself truly indispensable to Mary. And what if Milos could bring Allie in--even if only as a prisoner? That would certainly win him huge points.

The Portside Promenade was a mirror image of the Starboard promenade, except that it still had the airship's original furniture. Mary told him she was pla

When Milos arrived, all squeaky-clean, Mary had already opened the champagne, and poured two glasses.

"I never usually consume spirits," Mary told him, "but I suppose we have a lot to celebrate."

Milos hesitated. "Consume spirits?"

"Drink alcohol," Mary explained. "What on earth did you think I meant?"

Milos just chuckled in his own embarrassment, which seemed to please her.

"Let's toast," she said. "What shall we toast to?"

"To the Governess of the East, and soon to be West," suggested Milos. "The beautiful catcher of lost souls."

Mary's thoughts seemed to darken when he said it, but she clinked glasses anyway. She took a sip, put her glass down, and strode away from him.

"Is something wrong?"

She paused, looking out of the window. "Saving the children of the world is not always an easy thing," she said. "But the end does justify the means, wouldn't you agree?"

"Sometimes, yes." Milos cautiously moved closer to her.

She still looked out of the window, a convenient way to avoid his gaze. "There's much work to do, but before we begin, there's something you need to know, and something I need to find out."

Then she offered him a confession.

"As much as I despise stepping out into the course of living events, there are times it must be done," she told him. "There is an appliance store not too far from here. In it are many of those television machines, and they often display the news of the day." She began to rub her arms as if she was cold. "I was there, in search of something in particular, and I found it. There was a report of a dreadful car accident-- a terrible thing. Witnesses claimed that the driver actually swerved to hit pedestrians, but the driver claims to have no memory of it whatsoever. Imagine that."

Milos took a nervous sip of his champagne. "Strange things do happen in the living world."

"Yes, they do," agreed Mary. "But I don't think it was an accident at all. And I don't think the driver was himself that day."

Milos withheld his opinion. "And ... were any lives lost?"

"What a curious expression. How can a life be lost when you know exactly where it is?" Mary said. "Two children did leave the world of the living, if that's what you mean. The news was kind enough to show their photographs, but I had already seen their faces. Jill had brought them both into the incubator earlier that day. Of course they were asleep, but I still recognized them."

Finally she turned to him. "You knew, didn't you? Don't lie to me, Milos."

"I am truly sorry," was all Milos dared to say.

"Sorry that I found out, or sorry you didn't tell me that Jill's amulet was fake?"

He looked at the bubbles in his champagne, feeling all his hope begin to extinguish. Milos had no idea what Mary would do now. Would she throw him out? Would she have both him and Jill hurled off the pier to join Pugsy? Directness and honesty, thought Milos. That's what Mary respects. And so rather than wasting his breath trying to spin things to his favor, he simply told her the truth.

"I was afraid to tell you. I thought you might blame all skinjackers for what Jill was doing. I feared that you might send us away. That you might send me away. But I'm not like Jill... ."

And instead of throwing him out, Mary tapped her champagne glass very gently to his and said, "Do you really think I am so shortsighted as to let you go, Milos?" He didn't think he was supposed to answer, so he didn't. "It does change things, though," she said. "Since we don't have to wait for accidents, I can increase Jill's quota."

"Increase ... Jill's quota?" Milos was stu