"The Ties that Bind..."
                               Part Two:  Flight


      It had been three months since Lee had escaped and been recaptured.
Zack had recovered, was still recovering;  intensive physical therapy was
getting him back up to speed.  He was up for light duty already, but it would
be at least another month, maybe more, before he was really ready for full
duty.  Ivy's broken ribs and other injuries had healed much faster;  she would
have been back on duty a month ago.  Would have been.  Zack remembered that
day very clearly;  it felt like it had been burned into his memory.

      "No!"  the Chief protested vehemently.  "I refuse to accept your
resignation.  Ivy, we need you!  You're the best we've got!  Who's going to
catch Carmen?"

      "Chief, I've been trying to catch Carmen for how long?  Face it, she's
smarter than any of us," Ivy said wearily.  "And you don't need me after what
happened with Lee."

      The Chief hadn't told Zack anything then other than that Lee had been
captured by Ivy.  "Ive, you caught him.  You're back and ready to take on
Carmen.  And we have caught her."

      Ivy had visibly flinched when he said she'd caught Lee.  That was
totally unlike her;  Ivy wasn't scared of anything.  Anything she'd admit to,
anyway.  "She escaped every time, little bro," she said.

      "Ivy, Ivy!  Even without Carmen we need you!"  the Chief cajoled, trying
to come up with something, anything to persuade Ivy to stay.

      "Yeah?  What for?" Ivy said.  "Zack here can do language translations
while he's laid up, you have the knowledge banks to interpret Carmen's clues. 
Besides, you know her better than we do."

      "Ivy, I need you.  Who's going to help me figure out what Carmen's
talking about?  You're better at that than I am," Zack had said, confused and
getting seriously worried.  He'd known something was wrong with Ivy, but he'd
thought it was just that she was mad she'd let Lee hurt her.  She was his
partner, his sister;  she couldn't just walk out on him, could she?

      "They'll find you a new partner, Zack," Ivy said.  "You should work with
someone else anyway, get used to working with someone who hasn't had to put up
with you for your entire life."  She paused.  "They won't let you get away
with everything, either."

      "Come on, Ivy," the Chief cajoled.  "Who's going to make us laugh? 
Who's going to keep us working instead of playing video games?  Who's going
to..."

      "Someone else, Chief," Ivy said, hitching her bag over her shoulder. 
She wasn't even wearing her usual working clothes, but her oldest pair of
jeans and an oversized t-shirt.  "Someone else.  I'm resigning."

      "No, you're not!" the Chief retorted.  "I let Carmen go and look what
happened?  You're not resigning, and that's final.  You can have a vacation,
but you are not resigning!"

      "Sorry, Chief," Ivy said, shaking her head.  She had turned and walked
away without another word, even to him.  She seemed unnaturally bleak;  except
for the first time she'd seen him after he woke up, she'd been that way all
the time.  It was after she'd left that the Chief had told him what had
happened - that Ivy had beaten Lee into unconsciousness, that Carmen had been
the one to stop her.  And now Ivy had been gone for a month.  He was almost
glad of the exhausting therapy;  it kept him from thinking too much.  

      "Chief?  Any word from Ivy?" he asked, gasping as he finished the last
of his therapy exercises for the day.

      "Zip!  Nada!  Nothing!" the Chief said.  "This is worse than when Carmen
left!  At least Carmen let me know she was still alive!"

      "I know, Chief," Zack said.  "I wish she'd at least send us a postcard."

      "Yeah," the Chief said.  "Your new partner's here, Zack."

      "Temporary new partner, Chief.  Ivy has to come back.  She has to."

      The Chief didn't say anything, but he didn't have to.  Both of them were
seriously starting to doubt Ivy would ever be back.  Zack and Ivy's parents
were alternating between furious and worried, leaning toward furious;  Zack
just wanted her to come back and explain why she'd abandoned him and Acme.

 
      Carmen turned her stolen key in the lock, opening the case to reveal the
armor, complete with unauthentic bullet hole.  It took barely a minute to undo
the remaining security precautions and lift the breastplate and helmet from
the case.  She dropped the clue in its place.  Zack and Ivy should be back on
the job by now.

      "Carmen Sandiego!"  one of the guards shouted.

      Carmen turned and ran to the window, swinging out of it to the lower
roof where her glider was waiting.  The chase was on!


      "Carmen just stole Bonnie Dundee's armor!" the Chief exclaimed.   Zack
and his new partner, a seventeen-year-old seasoned veteran named Derry, had
been in the middle of an extremely uncomfortable getting-acquainted session.

      "Chief, C-5 us to Scotland!" Zack said.

      "Zack, you're in no shape to go on the chase," Derry protested.

      "You need me, remember?" Zack retorted, refusing to pay attention. 
"Carmen's clues aren't exactly easy to figure out."

      Zack won, and they found themselves in Scotland.  "Visions and voices,
armies and war;  this savior found it all ended in flames," Zack read,
ignoring the warning pain and trying to catch his breath.  "Now that's a
Carmen clue."

      "What do those first things all have in common?"

      "No, wait," Zack said.  "Look, it says found it all ended in flames. 
They're all part of one thing, not separate."

      "But what do the visions and voices - traditionally associated with
either madness or divine communication - have to do with armies and war?"

      "Joan of Arc!" Zack exclaimed.

      "She claimed she had a divine mission," the Chief interjected.  "Saving
France from English invaders!"

      "And she was burned at the stake!"  Derry exclaimed.

      "Someone just found her armor, and I bet that's what Carmen's after!" 
Zack said.

      "Chief, C-5 us to France!"


      Carmen had just collected Joan of Arc's armor when she heard the C-5
corridor open up behind her.  She dropped her clue and headed for her car.

      "Freeze, Carmen!"  Zack shouted, voice already ragged.  "We've got you
now!"

      "Sorry, Detectives," Carmen called, wondering if Zack really should be
back on the job after all.  Maybe she should have waited another week or two. 
"I've already got plans."

      A completely unfamiliar voice, a baritone male, called out, "Change
them, Carmen."

      She tossed the armor in the back seat and looked back as Zack and the
stranger raced toward her.  "Glad to see you back on your feet, Zack," she
called, wondering where Ivy was, looking for the trap.  She pulled open her
door and slid in.

      "It's good to be back!" Zack called as she sped off, irrationally
pleased that Carmen cared.  They chased her for a minute, but realized it was
hopeless.  

      "Let's go see what she left as a clue this time, Zack," Derry said.

      Zack gasped for breath.  "Yeah.  Okay.  Guess I'm not doing as well as I
thought."

      "Are you going to be all right?"

      "Sure!"  Zack said, convincing himself.

      "Green to suit the name, with red to match the fire;  always close to me
but never close enough, closer yet to you, Detectives," Derry read.

      "Closer yet to you ... Carmen doesn't know about Ivy leaving, so this
would be directed at me and Ivy," Zack said.  He wondered what Carmen had
thought about what Ivy had done;  she'd stopped her, she'd given her her coat
... but hadn't stayed to risk being caught.

      "I think she's talking about a person," Derry said thoughtfully.  "Green
to suit the name ..."

      "Someone close to me and Ivy," Zack said.  "Chief, does that ring any
bells among Acme agents?"

      "Uhh ... let's see ... there's Kelly Murray in Ireland, but you've never
worked with her ... Kelly Wanless in New York ...  you've never worked with
her either."

      "Zack, think about it," Derry said suddenly, eyes widening.  "Who does
Carmen know who is close to you?"

      "The Chief," Zack said.  "Ivy - IVY!"

      "She's going to steal something of Ivy's?" the Chief said indignantly. 
"Now that takes nerve.  When I get my hands on Carmen, I'll tell her a thing
or two."

      "Chief, you don't have any hands," Zack reminded him.

      "Oh.  Right."

      "Carmen probably thinks Ivy's still at Acme HQ," Zack said, wondering
what she was planning to steal.  Ivy hadn't left much behind, but Carmen
wouldn't know that.  "We'd better get back!"


      Carmen chuckled.  Acme hadn't changed that much since she was there;  of
course, she had been there not that long ago to steal the Chief for the
holidays.  She sighed, wishing that plan had come off better;  it would have
been good to spend the holidays with him again.  The files Sara had just
hacked out of Acme showed Ivy's quarters down this corridor, opposite the side
she'd lived on for a while, before getting her own place.  She used Ivy's
badge to get into them, absently wondering why Ivy chose to live there rather
than at home.

      The small room was neat and orderly, just as Carmen had expected.  The
bed was made, the desk was neatly arranged with the usual Acme-issue
pen/pencil holders, notepads, and a set of reference books;  a letter was
sitting on the desk in Ivy's scrawled handwriting.  A few history books sat on
the shelves in alphabetical order.  A few Christmas cards and Get Well cards
from fellow agents were still tacked up on the cork bulletin board, along with
an old menu.  Apparently they still hadn't gotten a new chef at the cafeteria.
There was a thin layer of dust over everything.  Carmen opened the closet;  it
was practically empty.  Only Ivy's leather jacket, well-worn with the patina
of good leather, a pair of pants with a mended slash in one leg, and a worn
belt hung there.  Carmen picked up the jacket and slung it over her shoulder,
frowning, and dropped the poster of 'Hunting of the Snark' for Ivy to see on
the bed.

     She looked around the room again, and this time noticed the faint musty
smell.  Ivy hadn't been here in a while.  She looked at the letter on the
desk, raised an eyebrow and picked it up.  It was full of cross-outs and
revisions;  it was a draft copy of Ivy's resignation letter.

     "Chief:
            With this letter, I am resigning from Acme, effective immediately.
I can no longer be trusted as an Acme Detective after my conduct in the
apprehension of Lee Jordan;  that I had to be stopped by Carmen Sandiego shows
how far my judgement has deteriorated.
      Make sure Zack doesn't overwork himself before he's ready?

                                                      Ivy"

      Carmen folded the letter and put it in her pocket, distressed.  Ivy was
good, perhaps even as good as she had been as a detective, and it was as
important to her as it had been to Carmen.  If she had walked away from it,
she was hurting terribly;  Carmen remembered with a flash of pain Ivy's
shattered expression when she'd seen what she'd done.  For the first time, she
wondered how Ivy had felt when she realized who had had to stop her.

      She heard someone running along the corridor, and Zack pounded into the
room.  "Stop, Carmen!"

      She reached into her pocket for a smoke bomb.  "I've got a plane to
catch, Zack," she said, arming it.

      "There's only one way out of here, Carmen," Zack said.  Then, as an
afterthought, "Oh, thanks for the flowers."

      "You're welcome, Detective," she said with a smile, throwing the smoke
bomb;  that was Zack all over, just as able to say something like that as try
to put her behind bars.  It exploded;  she dodged Zack's leap at her, waited
for the sound of his new partner running in, and slipped out behind them.  The
commotion behind her indicated they were still confused.

      She stopped at the nearest computer terminal and summoned up Ivy's
files, making a printout, before completing her escape.  Somehow, Ivy would
have to be convinced to come back ... and Carmen had the germ of an idea for
her next caper.

      "I feel like a fool," Derry said ruefully.  "I thought I had her."

      Zack sat with his ankle elevated.  "Well, you had me.  She's really good
at that, Derry," he said.  "Chief?"

      "Let's see ... Carmen got away with Bonnie Dundee's armor, Joan of Arc's
armor, and Ivy's leather jacket.  Also Ivy's personal files.  She left a note
and a poster."

      "She what?" Derry exclaimed.

      "What poster?"

      "Carmen still had Ivy's badge and ID," the Chief said.  "So she used
them to get Ivy's personal and personnel files.  She left Ivy a poster of the
Hunting of the Snark and a note - "Sorry, Detective.  For the Snark was a
Boojum, you see.'  How am I going to explain that we nearly had her twice and
we didn't even recover the loot?"

      "Why would Carmen want Ivy's files?"  Zack demanded, now worried about
his sister even more.  He was completely confused by the Lewis Carroll poem,
unless Carmen was referring to herself as the Snark.  No, that didn't work;
Ivy never vanished softly and silently away when confronted with Carmen.  She
must have been referring to Ivy as the Snark, since Carmen did tend to vanish
when confronted with Ivy.

      "Maybe Carmen wants to know where she is," Derry suggested.  "She might
think this is a trap, along the lines of the Tigress trick."


      Hannah Lulu was wondering what Carmen had wanted with any of what she'd
just stolen.

      "Carmen, what did you want with this?" she asked, setting Dundee's
breastplate on a stand.  Joan of Arc's armor was already set up on another
stand, and Ivy's jacket was lying on Carmen's coat.  This was not Carmen's
favorite safe-house;  she preferred California to Oregon, but the new house
there wasn't ready yet.

      "Oh, I've always admired John Claverhouse," Carmen said.  "He was a
brave, loyal man.  If he hadn't died at Killiecrankie, the Stuart cause might
have won."

      "And if Joan of Arc hadn't raised an army, France might have fallen to
the English," Hannah remembered, setting the helmet in place.

      She finally ventured to ask, after adjusting Dundee's armor again,
"But why that Detective's jacket?" 

      "Because Ivy's one of the few people who can really challenge me,"
Carmen said, walking over to pick up the jacket.  "She'll take just about any
risk."

      "And you admire her?" Hannah asked, confused.  "Carmen, she keeps
stealing back your loot.  Not this time, apparently, but ..."

      Carmen shook her head. "She's a worthy opponent, Hannah," she replied. 
"She's brave, smart and stubborn.  And she wasn't there this time."

      "Why not?"

      Carmen settled the jacket on a mannequin, carefully adjusting the
sleeves.  "I'm not sure," she said, thoughtfully.  "Why don't you go out for
dinner tonight, Hannah?  I've got some work to do."

      "Okay, Carmen," Hannah said.  "There's a new fortune-teller in the
suburbs, my friends all say she's really good."

      "Hannah, how many times have I told you about that?"

      "I know, I know," Hannah said, heading out the door.

      Carmen sighed, retreated to her study and pulled out Ivy's files and her
letter.  She felt rather like a voyeur, reading Ivy's personal notes;  most of
them were notes regarding particular cases, fairly dry notes on better
procedure or what went wrong.  Some were more personal, such as a slightly
confused note about Josha;  Carmen smiled, remembering that it had taken her
intervention for Ivy to even notice his interest.  The woman spent entirely
too much time working and seemed to have little interest in a social life.

      "Finally Zack got convinced that age is not an impediment.  Working with
Suhara was a valuable experience;  he's extraordinary."

      "It was so much fun being Tigress ... a real kick.  Maybe I understand a
little why Carmen turned thief ... it would be so easy to turn."  Carmen shook
her head.  Up until a few months ago, she wouldn't have thought it possible. 
Even now, she doubted it.

      There was a note on the orphanage.  "The Orphanage was Carmen's home for
so long ... and it was going to be destroyed anyway.  Chief was hurt thinking
he hadn't made Acme a home for her.  Decision not to retrieve orphanage
accepted.  Case closed."

      Did the Chief really think she'd left because of him, or something he
hadn't done?

      "I wonder why Carmen stole the Chief?  I know he gets lonely over the
holidays ... maybe she thought he needed company?  Maybe it was just another
challenge.  Note:  next year, maybe avoiding the horde of cousins and staying
with the Chief would be a better idea.  Case closed."  Carmen chuckled. 

      "Josha called, left several messages.  Responded via e-mail with
suggestions on latest case.  If he's that bored, he should try building the
Chief a body that works."  Carmen laughed and shook her head;  the Chief's
first body certainly had been more of a liability than an asset.  "Josha got
upset and hasn't called since."

      "Ivy, Ivy ... you still can't see it when it's in front of your face,
can you?" she said.  She was feeling more than a little guilty, an entirely
unwelcome sensation.

      "It was so strange working with Carmen, instead of against her.  Other
than that she still enjoyed making me look like a fool, it might almost have
been fun."  Carmen shook her head;  Ivy really needed to relax a bit.

      "Avalon is safe.  Injuries sustained resulted in loss of memory.  Lee
recaptured, locked in maximum-security.  I hope he stays there this time.  I
wonder how Carmen's taking it?  With Avalon's memory loss, she'll never know
whether he was really her father or not.  The Chief wanted to be a father to
her ... but I guess Carmen wanted a flesh-and-blood one.  Now she doesn't have
either.  Case closed."

      The stark words cut.  The Chief must have been terribly hurt for Ivy to
notice.  No, that wasn't entirely fair;  Ivy wasn't that blind.  But it
sounded like the Chief really had been hurt.  He was so emotional for a
computer ... or even a human.

      More procedural notes, dry, occasionally leavened with Ivy's sometimes
odd sense of humor.  Then the last entry.

      "Successful retrieval of stolen items from Lee Jordan.  Zack critically
injured.  Carmen assisted in capture, restraining me from ... She stopped me
beating Lee to a pulp.  Carmen stopped me."  That last phrase was emphasized. 
"I thought it was all so clear.  And now I'm the one who deserves to be
condemned.  And she didn't even say anything.  Nothing.  Zack woke up!  He's
going to live!  I forwarded my resignation at 1100."  Just ten minutes before
the entry had been made.  "I let Zack get hurt.  I failed Acme worse than
Carmen did.  At least Carmen never hurt anyone deliberately.  I hope Zack
forgives me;  I hope the Chief finds him a good partner.  Final entry. 
Archive and write-protect file."

      Carmen put down the pages, feeling like a peeping tom.  Ivy must have
felt horribly guilty;  it oozed out of just these printed words.  There wasn't
a word about Ivy's own injuries in it.  Nothing about the earlier encounter
with Carmen;  just the sense of failure.  Carmen reconsidered her plan;  it
might just make things that much worse.

      She picked up her tea and went through Ivy's personnel file.  It was
much thinner and drier, lists of cases and results, injuries - mostly strains
and sprains until the disaster with Lee.  Old vacation contact numbers with
locations were still in the files, not that Ivy had ever taken very many of
those.  No statement on why she'd moved into Acme all those months ago;  then
again, she might just have wanted her own space, away from her parents.

      "Therapy sessions as required were initiated," a Dr. Armstrong's note
read.  "Ivy was uncommunicative, distant, in what the Chief informs me is a
distinct personality change.  She shows signs of possible clinical depression,
which even the recovery of her brother has not alleviated on other than a
temporary basis.  Parental visits appeared to be worsening her condition and
have been terminated until end of therapy;  initial termination was an
independent act on the part of Acme agents, approved later by me.  From what I
have discerned, her assault on the suspect was a aberration unlikely to be
repeated, due to an unusual combination of factors, not least her brother's
severe injuries and her own injuries.  Whether Ivy accepts this is debatable. 
Prognosis guarded."  Carmen frowned, wondering why having her parents visit
would make Ivy worse;  something must have happened, if other detectives had
worked to keep them away from her.  She'd never heard of such a thing.

      And a note from the Chief.  "Ivy tried to resign.  Resign!  I won't hear
of it!  I need Ivy.  She's one of the best detectives we've got!  Ivy walked
out on Zack and me.  I refused to let her resign.  Officially listing her as
on indefinite leave.  This is as bad as when Carmen left.  I wish we'd never
heard of Lee Jordan."

      Carmen shook her head, and felt terribly sad.  Ivy had walked out on her
career, her brother ... all because of Lee.  The Chief sounded almost
heartbroken;  she wondered if he really had taken it that badly when she'd
left Acme.


      Ivy turned the sign to closed and locked the door after her last
customer of the day.  She hadn't been sure her disguise would hold, but Hannah
Lulu hadn't recognized her at all.  She put her tarot cards back in their
silk-lined box, straightened up her horoscopes and books, and ran the vacuum. 
The little shop was exotically decorated in an eclectic fashion;  the
draperies and hangings suggested the Middle East, the furnishings Japan, while
the lighting was a mix of old-fashioned lamps and a few candles.  She stopped
in the bathroom;  her long blond wig was still in place, and her makeup wasn't
smudged.  The blue contacts irritated her eyes a bit;  she needed to take them
out and rest her eyes.  The gauzy blue tunic and white full pants, and
sandals, the clunky gold-tone jewelry ... she hardly even recognized herself. 
It wasn't that surprising no one else did.  She thought, though, she looked
more like Zack than usual ... or maybe Grandmother Lillian.  She locked up the
shop and went grocery shopping.


      Carmen locked Ivy's files in her desk, and went down to fix some dinner;
there was some leftover lasagna from the night before.

      Hannah came in just as she was finishing this repast.  "Hello, Carmen,"
she said.  "That new fortune teller is awfully good."

      Carmen sighed.  Hannah would never change.  

      "She read the cards for me, and she knew all about you."

      "She did?"  Carmen asked, raising an eyebrow.

      "Oh, I don't think she knew your name, but she said that the Queen of
Swords - a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman, a real leader - was a major influence
on my life."

      "Sounds rather general, Hannah."

      "Oh, and she said that in the past I had been influenced by the Page of
Wands, a blond youth.  Then she said that she saw conflict in my future, with
a positive outcome."

      "You think this ... page of Wands was Zack?"

      She displayed the lucky rabbit's foot.  "Well, he did give me this," she
said.

      Carmen rinsed out her dishes and put them in the dishwasher.  "Hannah,
that could apply to anyone."

      "Well, she said a lot more, but I don't remember it all now," Hannah
replied.  "Oh, she did say one kinda funny thing.  She said the Queen of
Swords had suffered a loss in the family recently."

      That made Carmen pause, but only briefly, and she shook her head.  
"Honestly, Hannah, the woman was just rooking you for the money."

      Hannah shrugged.  "Well, she didn't ask near as much as some of the
others, and gave a lot better reading.  Her name's Jennifer Rivers."


      Ivy put away the last of her groceries; milk, cheese, and several bags
of frozen vegetables.  She was renting a tiny studio apartment;  its only real
amenities were a claustrophobically small bath and a very low rent.  There was
a small table with a desk lamp, phone and an arrangement of dried flowers in
one corner, a sofa-bed in another, and a battery-operated radio on the floor
by the sofa.  A somewhat flimsy wardrobe sat in one corner next to a hamper. 
The windows had shades and curtains pulled tight.  A well-worn cotton robe
hung on the bathroom door, and slippers waited by the sofa.

      She checked that the door was firmly locked behind her, then stripped,
throwing her clothes in the hamper.  She put on the robe and scrubbed the
makeup from her face, took off the wig and showered.  She took her diary from
its hiding place and made an entry for the day.

      "Good business today;  word must be getting around.  I got a shock when
Hannah Lulu showed up, though, but she didn't recognize me.  But if she's
here, Carmen might show up, and I don't think I could fool her.  I'll have to
be careful.  It's lonely up here, though, even Carmen would be company;  never
thought I'd say that.  I wish I understood anything.  I don't know why she
stopped me or why she stayed there almost to the last possible second.  She
even sounded worried about me at the end."  She paused, tapping the end of the
pen.  "I miss Zack and the Chief and Acme.  I wish I could go back."  She
wondered how Zack was doing.  She hoped he'd recovered;  she hoped he'd
forgiven her for leaving that way.  She couldn't think of a better way,
though, it had been hard enough leaving at all.  But after what she'd done to
Lee, there was no other choice.

      She put away the diary and reheated the last of the vegetable-barley
soup.  She had learned quickly how to cook;  her mother would have been
impressed.  It wasn't all that great a soup, but it was edible, which some of
her earlier attempts had not been.  She turned on the radio to catch the news.

      "Carmen Sandiego has gotten away with another spectacular crime," the
announcer said.  "She's stolen armor belonging to Claverhouse, Earl Dundee,
and Joan of Arc.  Acme had no comment."  He went on to report on severe
weather in other areas, the local basketball team's ignominious defeat, and
the local weather.

      Ivy shook her head, and finished her dinner.  She picked up a letter,
written and re-written and never sent, and re-read it, then took another blank
piece of paper, and wrote a quick message on it.  She stuffed it in an
envelope, addressed and stamped it before she could change her mind.  It hurt
to write.  It hurt not to write.


      "Mail call, Zack!" Derry said, bringing the mail in while Zack worked on
the day's physical therapy two days later.

      Zack took a break, and sorted through it.  "Junk, junk, junk.  Cool, my
Skater magazine and a letter from Tatyanna."  He looked at the last letter in
the pile.  "Chief!"

      "Zack, I'm busy," the Chief said.  "I have reports to write - what's so
important??"

      "It's Ivy's handwriting, Chief!"

      "Open it already!"  the Chief said, bouncing enthusiastically all over
the room.  "Is she coming back?"

      Zack tore open the envelope.  "She says, 'I'm all right.  Don't worry
about me, worry about Carmen.  Love, Ivy.'"  The Chief was reading over his
shoulder.  "She's all right.  But she doesn't say where she is."  She wasn't
coming back, and his heart sank from the momentary rush of hope.  Gia had said
something about their parents and Ivy fighting in the hospital;  she hadn't
been able to hear what it was about, just that it was a fight, and Ivy
wouldn't say anything when she asked.  His parents wouldn't say anything
either.

      Derry retrieved the envelope from where it had fallen on the floor. 
"Maybe this will tell us."  He tried to read the water-blurred postmark. 
"I'll send it to the lab."


      "Anything yet, Chief?"  Zack asked about a week later, desperately
willing himself not to hope too much.

      "Nope, Ivy sure hid her tracks well," the Chief said disconsolately. 
"She must have been taking lessons from Carmen."

      "Speaking of, what's she up to?  We haven't heard from her since that
last heist," Derry asked, finishing a pile of paperwork.  "Next time you're
doing this paperwork, Zack."

      "Yeah, yeah," Zack said, finishing a translation he was working on for
Josha, regarding Josha's secret project to build a new body for the Chief.  He
hated paperwork.  Ivy had never liked it either.

      "Not again!" the Chief exclaimed.  "People, we have a real problem here.
Ivy just stole the Mona Lisa!"

      There was about a minute of total silence.  "Ivy?  My sis?  She wouldn't
do that!" Zack protested, stunned.

      "She just did," the Chief said bitterly.  "Two of my best detectives,
turned thief!"

      "C-5 us to the scene of the crime," Derry said.


      "Zack, I know you don't like it, but the security cameras prove it,"
Derry said a few minutes later.  "That was Ivy."

      Zack crossed his arms stubbornly, refusing to believe it.  "Ivy wouldn't
turn into a thief, right Chief?  Chief?"

      The Chief's image was red-eyed and he blew his nose.  "I don't
understand it.  It's Carmen all over again," he wailed.

      "What's this?"  Derry asked, picking up a small object.  It was a
woodcut of a scene of a monkey and a ruined temple.

      "That looks familiar," Zack said, thinking.  "Chief?"

      The Chief wasn't helping;  he was too shocked by Ivy's betrayal.

      "Hey, Zack, didn't you and Ivy rescue a jungle ruin from Carmen?"

      "Yeah!  Zack shouted.  "Let's go!"

      They got there just in time to see Ivy, in a pose that unpleasantly
reminded them of Carmen, standing on top of the monument as it was carried
away.

      "Sorry, little bro," she called, tossing them a clue.  "You can't catch
me!"

      "Ivy!" Zack yelled.  "Don't do this to me!"

      Ivy and the monument disappeared into the night.

      "What's the clue this time?"  Derry asked, tired.  "Acme's best
detectives keep turning thief.  Wonderful."

      It was a miniature sub.  "She's stealing the things we protected," Zack
said.  "Chief, where's the sub now?"


                          **************************


      "Well, so far we've managed to retrieve the Mona Lisa, that jungle ruin
and prevent Ivy stealing the sub, one shrine, and a teddy bear.  When Ivy does
things, she doesn't do them by halves," Derry said, wearily.  "It's only been
three weeks."

      "Let me see that clue," Zack said.  Derry tossed it over.

      "What I don't get," Derry went on, "is why Carmen helped us stop her
stealing the bear."

      "Carmen loved that bear!" the Chief said.  "It was her favorite toy when
she was a child, and if we wouldn't let her steal it, she's not going to let
Ivy steal it!"

      "A baker's concoction Medusa eyed, stolen not by a lady in red but a man
with a crown, and never recovered," Zack read bitterly.  "Ivy spent too much
time chasing Carmen.  She even sounds like her now."

      "A baker's concoction Medusa eyed ... Medusa turned things into stone,"
Derry said.

      "Right.  And this is something Carmen didn't steal.  A man with a crown
... a king?  What would a King want with a stone?"

      "Chief, any correlations to Greek mythology?"

      "Nada.  She must not mean Medusa literally."

      "OK ... how about on, um ... famous stones?"

      "Well, there's Stonehenge, the Blarney Stone, the Stone of Scone ..."

      "That's it!"  Zack exclaimed.  "The Scone of ... the Stone of Scone!  It
was taken from Scotland after the failure of the last attempt to enforce an
independent Scottish kingdom!  It's under the English throne!"

      "C-5 us there!"

      Zack tackled Ivy as she moved the Stone.  "Sis, I'm locking you up in
the psych ward until you come to your senses!"  He'd rather have dealt with
Carmen.  Carmen he hadn't known his entire life.

      "Sorry, little bro," she said, twisting out of his grasp easily,
something sad in her eyes.  "I don't think so."  Derry had defended the Stone,
and Ivy retreated out the window, escaping via a concealed hang glider.


      Carmen was feeling very frustrated.  Her plan wasn't getting the results
she wanted, and was backfiring.  She had gone out for a long drive after the
mediocre results of the last try, and finally ended up here, in this tiny
suburb of Portland, eating at a mediocre cafe.  Maybe she should just give up,
and try something else.  She twitched her light cardigan back onto her
shoulders;  the thing absolutely refused to stay put.

      She had stopped at the local bookstore to get a new copy of a favorite
book, and spotted the small shop with the words 'Tarot read, Horoscopes cast'
painted on the window, just above 'J. Rivers, prop.'.  The sign turned from
open to closed, and two people came out.  One trotted happily down the street,
while the other fixed a clock sign to read 'back at 2'.  She had waist-length
blonde hair, blue eyes and was wearing gauzy green and gold palazzo pants and
a blue tunic, belted loosely at the waist.  There was a melancholy air to her,
something sad in her eyes or her posture, and a weariness in the very air
around her.

      "Oh!" she said, nearly hitting Carmen as she turned around.  "Sorry." 
Her eyes suddenly widened.  "I wasn't looking where I was going."

      "That's quite all right," Carmen said, looking curiously at the psychic
Hannah was so enthusiastic about.  There was something familiar about her. 
"Ms. Rivers, isn't it?"

      "Yes," she replied.  "I was just on my way to lunch;  if you were
wanting a reading, I'll be back in about an hour or so."

      "Sorry, I'll get out of your way," Carmen replied, moving aside.

      Ms. Rivers walked down the street to a small cafe, stopping to purchase
a newspaper on the way.

      Carmen looked after her, frowning, and shook her head.  It had to be a
coincidence;  the woman certainly looked like Zack ... but she hadn't thought
Zack and Ivy looked that much alike.  They did have relatives...  "Maybe I
should get my cards read," Carmen said to herself.  "Just to convince myself."


      Ivy ordered a bowl of cheese soup and a lemonade for lunch, her nerves
jangling and her hands shaking.  Carmen was in town, and she had almost
certainly recognized her.  She remembered interfering in the one case Hannah
had let slip;  it had been fun and frightening and painful all at once,
working simultaneously with and against Zack.  What was Carmen doing?  Of
course, Carmen might just want her to join VILE;  after all, that would a real
coup for the thief, getting one of her most prominent adversaries on her side.
But the absolute last thing Ivy wanted was for anyone to know that she was a
former Acme detective;  after nearly a month as Jennifer Rivers,
fortune-teller, she had nearly convinced herself she could get by, at least
when she was awake.  She never slept well now;  the nightmares were regular,
and the painful dreams of the past were constant companions.

      She picked up the local paper to steady her nerves.  Not much happened
around here, which was why she'd picked it.  Maybe that was why Carmen was
here too.  If Carmen wanted to be left alone ... maybe she'd leave Ivy alone. 
She finished her soup and looked at her watch, realizing she had just enough
time to go to the bookstore and pick up the Tarot book she had on order.  She
dropped the paper in a recycling bin and hurried off.


      Carmen finished her errands, and tried to talk herself out of this.
Hannah would never let her forget it, either, if she went in.  But curiosity
was nearly killing her;  if that really was Ivy, what was she doing?  Of
course, it was about as far away from being an Acme detective she could get
without turning thief.  It was nearly four-thirty, and the shop closed at six;
with any luck, Ivy wouldn't have any other customers.  Or maybe without any
luck, Ivy wouldn't have any other customers.  "She's not going to be happy
with me," she mused.  "Then again, knowing Ivy's temper, that's probably an
understatement."

      A bright, cheerful tone rang as she opened the door;  a voice from the
back called, "Just a moment, please, I'll be right there."  It could be 
Ivy's... or not.

      All the light came from oil lamps or candles in antique holders.  She
removed her shoes and placed them on the rack by the door;  the floors were
covered with Japanese woven mats.  A low, black lacquered table sat in the
center of the small room, an oil-lamp casting small rainbows through its
faceted chimney, and a deck of oversized cards to one side.  She wondered how
Ms. Rivers explained this to the local fire authorities.  The hangings had the
odd feel of fire-treated fabric.

      Ms. Rivers came through a bead-hung doorway in the back, carrying a
small tray.  "I was just making a fresh pot of tea," she said, catching only a
glimpse of Carmen's figure.  "Would you like a cup?"

      "Yes, please," Carmen said, bemusedly.

      "There's no milk, I'm afraid, but there is sugar or honey."

      "I'll take it plain, thanks."

      She took the cup, a delicate china piece with a pattern of roses, and
sipped at the strong tea.  Ms. Rivers took hers with a generous amount of
honey, walked behind the table, and sank gracefully to sit cross-legged. 
"Now, what can I do for you, Ms..."

      "Gordon.  Barbara Gordon," Carmen said, sitting cross-legged across from
her.  She smoothed the wrinkles out of her trousers.  If it was Ivy, she'd
recovered her composure.  "I was hoping you'd read the cards for me."

      "Certainly," Ms. Rivers replied, voice cool and collected.  She picked
up the deck and handed it to Carmen.  "Shuffle the cards while concentrating
on your question;  there's no need to ask it out loud."

      The outsize cards were slightly awkward to handle, but Carmen shuffled
them three times, then cut them as Ms. Rivers directed.

      "Now ..." Ms. Rivers quickly laid them out in a cross and staff pattern,
turning the cards sideways, not flipping them end-for-end, and studied them
for a moment.  "These will be backwards from your perspective, by the way. 
Ah, yes.  The general reading here is that while a woman of courage and
determination, you have lost a great deal in your life, and are unsure of the
direction you want to go, and what the future will bring.  Here," she said,
tapping the first card, a rather unpleasant depiction of a devil, reversed. 
"This indicates the beginnings of enlightenment in regards to your past and
present."  She tapped the second, a man in rich robes with pentacles, lying
sideways on the first card.  "This man has been a powerful recent influence,
and is still influencing you, though he himself is not in your life now.  A
businessman or successful politician, perhaps.  The Death card, here in your
distant past, may not indicate literal death, but a transformation or loss
that has shaped your life.  In the recent past, the King of Wands - your
father, perhaps, or someone like a father to you, a honest man you still
admire.  Just coming into play is the Eight of Swords, reversed;  past
betrayals, disquieting your present and near future.  The Queen of Swords,
here, indicates that your goal is to become yourself, develop your talents to
their greatest extent."

      Carmen was slowly becoming convinced that this was, in fact, Ivy;  only
Ivy would be able to put all the pieces together that neatly, alluding to
the Chief, to losing her family as a child, even, perhaps, to Avalon.

      "The Moon seems to indicate that many divergent, even conflicting,
influences are meeting now, contributing to the disquiet indicated by the
Eight of Swords.  The Eight of Pentacles indicates that you inspire an
appreciation of craftsmanship in those you associate with, and the effort to
match your skill."

      She had certainly inspired Zack and Ivy to the heights of effort in
attempting to catch her, and this was definitely not Zack.  She thought Ivy
appreciated her skill, even if she refused to admit anything of the sort.

      "The Nine of Swords indicates doubt or scruples;  something you have
done is causing you to doubt everything, with worries about the people you
associate with.  The presence of the Wheel of Fortune in the last position
indicates unexpected events, possibly undesired, as your plans advance for
good or ill."  She took a long drink of her tea;  Carmen had finished hers
already.  "Do you have any questions?"

      She tapped the King of Wands.  "Have you seen the Chief lately, Ivy?"

      "I ... beg your pardon, Ms. Gordon?"  she said, startled.

      Carmen smiled dryly.  "I'm surprised Zack isn't in the cards, either."

      "You shuffled them, not me.  I assure you, I didn't arrange them in
any way," she replied.  The voice was Ivy's, Carmen was positive by now.  "If
someone isn't in your cards now, it may mean simply that they have no
influence on your question."

      "I see," Carmen said, wondering whether Ivy would have given her the
same reading no matter what cards had come up.  "I have another question for
you ... though I don't think the cards are going to answer it, Ivy.  Why would
Acme's best walk away from everything?"

      "Are you asking me ... or yourself?" she retaliated, shaking her head.

      Carmen rose to her feet and put her shoes back on, then handed Ivy a
twenty.  "Think about it, Detective," she said, before leaving.  The bell rang
merrily.

      Ivy poured herself another cup of tea with shaking hands.  What was
Carmen going to do, now that she knew?  And how did Carmen know she'd left? 
The Chief had refused to admit she'd resigned.  She pocketed the twenty
absently, wondering if Carmen meant it as an insult or a compliment.  The tea
calmed her nerves by the time her last two customers came in, a pair of
giggling girls about Zack's age, who'd been in several times for their
horoscopes. 

      Carmen walked back to her car and drove back to her house, contemplating
a small change in plans.  How ironic to find Ivy completely by accident,
rather than by the not-inconsiderable amount of effort she'd been putting into
the search and her plan.  Then again, she certainly had not expected Ivy to
have resorted to fortune-telling for a living;  she hadn't seemed happy, or
even content.  She chuckled, remembering the reading, and wondering what clues
Ivy had hidden in it for her- Past betrayals and unexpected events.

					To be continued...