The Mask of Omegon (Gwen Farris Book 6)

by P. S. Power

  “Curly, work the port side unit. Tom, you’re with me over here. We need to have these back in the wall inside an hour. Got that?”

  Nodding, Gwen started right in.

  “Understood. Let’s get that done.” It was harder than it sounded, since Gwen wasn’t getting any hints as to what she had to do. It was, apparently, her steam rocket to service and clean that day. Emergency or not. Still, she didn’t have the newb on her team, so managed to work nearly as fast as the other two did. That meant she was ten minutes slower than the others, but Gloria didn’t even stand over her, as she put the whole thing back together. She double checked her work, then did it again.

  Taking a breath, Gwen shrugged.

  “Gloria? Do a pass on mine? I don’t want to find out that I messed something up later.”

  Seeming a bit tense, Gloria just did it, nodding as she got finished.

  “Good work. Let’s get these rehung. You…” She glanced around, then shook her head. It was a slow thing, that held meaning. The hidden kind that Gwen was almost never privy to. “We’re doing a pick up. I shouldn’t tell you, but this isn’t the time to be running off, or anything… No one knows the timing on it. It may not even happen. Stay ready.” The words were whispered, but loud enough for both of them to hear. Tom didn’t say anything about it at all.

  The work went fast, meaning they then got the privilege of puttering around the deck, inside the loading hangar. Technically it was owned by Vernor Industries, even if it was in Eng. Most of the ports they went to were, apparently. Including the ones in Europa, Marduk and the Chinoise. Groundling mentioned that, as they all pretended to clean the brass railings. Well, Gwen actually did it. Tomas did as well. The rest of them were so clearly phoning their efforts in, it wasn’t even funny.

  What was humorous, to Gwen at least, was when Darnell, the useless man that had once greased the corner of a charging pack, walked up to the ship. He had a bulging sack with him, made of canvas or burlap. It was a bit dirty looking and bunched at the top. It wasn’t even a pack or anything. Just a simple bag. Like what potatoes came in. No handles or anything. The guy was unshaved, seemed unclean and looked like he was going to smell if he got too close. Groundling went very still, on seeing him. So did everyone else.

  Gwen nearly did, but then fell back on the story she’d been given the entire time. That Darnell was a joker and a waste of space who had been kept on because it was hard to find another guy to lift and tote things. Only that wasn’t really true. Not, keep the useless man around for three years, honest. Which given everything meant that the fellow, who wasn’t all that old, might well have been something other than she’d been led to believe the whole time she’d been around.

  Which was interesting, since that meant he’d probably been trying to trick her, the first time they’d met. Since that should have ended in thousands of mets of damage to a crystal, that meant the man was being set up to be seen as a giant fuck up on purpose. To the eyes of the daughter of Robert Vernor.

  So, just to be in keeping with the game, Gwen glared at the man when he walked up. After all, she’d been told he’d been abandoned in Paris. For cause.

  “Darnell. I see you made it back. Grab a rag and start on the starboard rails. If I hear anything about you trying to take liberties with another woman, especially one that works for Vernor Industries, I will personally drop you in the ocean. Got it?” She sounded pissed. That she wasn’t at all was missed by almost everyone.

  Darnell just nodded at her.

  “Yes, ma’am. Lesson learned. I was just…” He stopped, and looked hangdog, instead of going on.

  Which made sense if he didn’t know the cover story that had been made up.

  “Fine. Stow that gear and get to work. Now.” She turned, to look at Groundling, her face a bit evil seeming. At least that was what she wanted to seem like, if it was possible.

  “Do we have a load incoming? We should try to get something, but… Really, I’m going to kick his ass if I have to look at his face for too long. For real. That kind of thing reflects on all of us. Word gets out that we let men do that kind of thing and there won’t be a single cook willing to serve on our line.”

  The three men that were following Darnell into the hangar all seemed to be official, for some reason. Dressed in bright red, like the Europan guards had been. Even if they were in Eng. Gwen ignored them, yelling about taking liberties with their people, at nearly the top of her lungs. She even approached Darnell, and pushed him a bit. As if he were about to have his behind truly beaten by a tiny woman.

  The others tried to calm her down, but she let herself seem ready to fight by the time the strange men got to the back of the craft. Looking over the deck, she smiled.

  “Ha! Even the Europans are here to get you, Darnell. Fine. You men want this would-be rapist? Come in. Come in! This is bullshit! What did you do this time?”

  Oddly enough the strange military men, in their rather pretty uniforms, didn’t speak very good Western. They were following Darnell however and started to chase him, before he could get rid of the bag he had with him. That was going to start a fight, she didn’t doubt. Probably because the bulging sack didn’t have his clothing in it, just masses of other things.

  Groundling started screaming something, in Mongolian. It was distracting to the men in red, if nothing else. Several of the others moved to pull weapons from both the walls and in a few cases their persons, which was telling. Too much so. Normal ships crews wouldn’t have that kind of thing available. Not on a merchant ship, like the Peregrine.

  Gwen shook her head, waving at people. Covertly. Then she counted on the idea that these men wouldn’t understand her very easily. Not with her funny accent.

  “Get those put away. We’re fine. What are they saying?” She looked at the others, but it was Tomas who moved toward her.

  “That they want that sack he has. That he stole something from them? They aren’t saying what, just that he took property.”

  She nodded, since it made sense to her. Enough that everything clicked into place inside her mind. The trick, her part in the day’s events, would be in fixing things before anyone got to the bag. Which was inside of what she could do, with enough effort.

  It took work. Really, there was some theft involved as well. Along with shifting the contents of the bag in three batches, barely able to sense what was inside the thing, replacing them at the same time. It caused the tan sack to jump a few times, but nothing exploded, thankfully. Groundling was distracting the soldiers nicely, screaming at them and getting in their faces.

  Which meant that Gwen had to go to her room, in order to hide the documents that she’d removed from the cloth sack, taking them to Westmorland Central. It was the safest place that she knew of for that kind of thing. In fact, they ended up on Adam’s desk, since she figured that would be a secure enough place for secrets. They might not be friends, but she had no doubt at all that she could trust him with sensitive things. Especially if it might be for the kingdom. She jotted a note down for him, saying only that Gwen had left them there. Also that she had no clue what it was about and that he shouldn’t peek, since it might be a secret.

  It could be the secret plans for cute underwear for all she knew. Hopefully that was the case, actually. That would be wild, after all. Plus, she had a reason to wear that kind of thing now.

  Then she moved back to the Peregrine as the Europans tried to push around the crew, grabbing at Darnell, pushing him to the ground as they stole his sack, using force that wasn’t going to play with anyone from the Western Kingdom. It meant they had his secret, ill-gotten bag of loot.

  Of candy. The good kind. Probably several mets worth, which Gwen was going to have to pay for, when she got home. She’d stolen it from the display case in Carmichaels’, after all.

  Opening it with force, the men went ballistic for some reason. They even patted Darnell down, looking ready to strip him, publically, to find the papers that they knew the man had to have. That
part started a fight. Which came about when Groundling moved to hit one of the red clad men in the head.

  Tomas tackled one of the others from behind. Gloria pulled a wrench, looking ready to slam the last one in the brain case.

  Then she said something harsh in Mongolian. It sounded a bit rough, like she didn’t know the language very well, but it got the men to stop. Groundling pushing the man that he’d been fighting, moving him away. With enough force that the man nearly flew backwards.

  The red covered men left then, walking quickly, calling something back at them. Gwen didn’t get any of it, of course. She really needed to learn some other languages, it was clear.

  As soon as they were gone, Gloria turned to her.

  “Get the back hatch sealed. Tom, go with her, in case they come back. Everyone else get ready to move. Groundling, talk to the Captain. It would be best if we could leave. Now.” She sounded tense again.

  Gwen got the basic idea. The Europans weren’t in their own land, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have friends nearby.

  People ran, in response to that. It took them a few minutes to get the giant rear hatches sealed. They were a lot like heavy barn doors, that had wheels that needed to be turned to pull them shut. The stout chains clanked as it happened, but they were well oiled, because everything on the Peregrine was well cared for. Tom, who had a red scuffmark on the side of his face, from tackling the evil Europan would be candy thief, grimaced.

  “That wasn’t good. We should probably get out of here. They don’t belong, but Eng probably can’t afford to fight them out of their ports yet. I think these came from Paris? They mentioned something like that.” He grunted as they got the doors sealed and locked up.

  Gwen nodded.

  “What did Gloria say to them?”

  That one got a smile.

  “That we weren’t going to allow them to steal his candy or rape him. She was a bit clumsy on the phrasing, but I think they got the point.”

  “Yeah they did. I thought we were going to have to take them with us, for a while. This will work better though. No blood to clean up, for instance.” They had some tarps, if it had come up. That would keep the blood off the deck, if they did it right. She had experience with that kind of thing.

  Whatever else was going on, they were underway, not ten minutes later. Just as a group of fifty or so crin bearing Europan red coats came running up. Firing at them, from the wash of light that came off the weapons. That was a light blue, instead of the sickly green she was used to seeing from Western weapons. She had to admit that they were prettier than the last ones that she’d seen. Those had been green and in Europan hands, so it wasn’t about different manufacturing styles alone, most likely.

  Groundling led them out onto the deck, giving orders.

  “They can’t hit us from here. Not with wide spreads like they’re armed with. A bit of luck, that. We should fire back or they’ll think that we’re going to put up with this kind of thing. Everyone grab a crin.” Those came out of the walls, with everyone being handed one of the things. Even her. She missed all the men on the ground, not being a great shot at those distances, but not everyone did.

  Despite what Groundling had said about the weapons being used against them, which were something like shotguns, she guessed, there were loud smacking sounds where the craft was being hit. No damage seemed to be done, so there was at least that in their favor. Interestingly, both Tomas and Meter were managing to hit people, one right after the other. Gwen finally got one, she thought. The men ran shortly after that, not injured enough to be dead, or even dying.

  The distances made a big difference. They were over half a mile away already, which was lucky, apparently. There would be deaths involved if they’d still been in dock. Probably theirs. After all, fifty soldiers were a lot to face at one time. Even if they weren’t all that good with their weapons.

  What Gwen found to be most interesting was that another airship tried to chase them. It was about ten miles away as they moved over the ocean. It seemed a bit over the top to her, if she were going to be honest about it. On the great side, the thing was white and red, in a stripped pattern. It reminded her of the candy that Darnell had.

  “Ooooh! Right. Darnell, share that stuff out? I want some of the maple fudge.” The man looked at the sack, then nodded.

  “Certainly. I… don’t suppose anyone understands why I have it?” He looked at Groundling, who stared at her, getting the basic idea.

  She didn’t make him ask.

  “I stole your papers and replaced them with candy. I have to go and pay for all of that, as soon as we get back. The files are currently with Adam Westmorland. Their leader, in case the name doesn’t ring a bell. Just sitting on his desk, with a note saying he shouldn’t read them. He won’t.” She didn’t ask what the things were about, since it wasn’t her job to know that. She had enough secret data to be going on with, as far as she was concerned. If they wanted her to know more, they could tell her.

  Duke Morten smiled at her then, clearly not meaning it.

  “Not bad. Especially since it wasn’t part of the plan. I don’t suppose we could get those back? They need to be delivered to a different location.” There was a pause, then a glance at the sack. “Save me a lime ball?”

  Darnell looked into the thing carefully. Then he grinned, like the clown Gwen had always known him to be.

  “We can do that. This is a nice spread.”

  Gwen teletransported to Adam’s office, picked up the files and had them back inside a minute. Those were handed over to Groundling, since he was the one that knew where they needed to go. Then Gwen was delivered her payment of light tan fudge.

  “This stuff is the bomb.” No one registered that one. Then, they knew that bombs were a thing, but also that this was delectable fudge, which was probably confusing. So instead of dumping it all over the side, they just let her eat the single piece of candy that she’d taken.

  Darnell put a hand out toward Tomas, his face seeming tired. He was still a young man, but there was more stress living there, somehow. It showed in the lines around his eyes. Those were deep now.

  “Thanks for the help back there. I’m Darnell Tombs. There was a bit of confusion, so…” He glanced around, then did something Gwen wouldn’t have suspected him going for. He told the truth, if without going into things too deeply. “I was sent to get something from Europa. They took exception to it.”

  “Tom Moore. I noticed that. Those men seemed rather upset that you had their candy. And didn’t have their files. What have you.” His words were dry and he seemed older than his years at the moment. He was only twenty-two, but fit in with everyone else there.

  They all did. Oddly enough, that seemed to include her. Gwen Farris.

  Alien woman.

  Apparently, also a member of the little group they had going on there. Whatever they were called. At least for that day. At the moment they were fleeing though, the real action being done on the bridge. It didn’t look like the other airship was closing with them very quickly. That was hard to tell though.

  “Say, what happens if they get close to us? I mean, before I fly over and pop their balloon for them?”

  Groundling gave her an incredibly strange look then, followed by a smirk.

  “That’s the crux of airship combat, isn’t it? You try to go higher than the other ship, then hit their bag while they can’t get at you. Most boats don’t carry a flying person that can do that however. Can you get that high? It could be five thousand feet up. Maybe six?”

  She could do it. It was no harder to go up thousands of feet than one or two. Speed was harder, but her top speed was about four or five times faster than an airship could go. The trick would be going in so high that no one could hit her with a crin. It would mean waiting until dark, most likely.

  “I’ve been up to over ten thousand, starting from the ground. That isn’t a problem. I can do that at night? If it’s needed. I can also take the papers where they nee
d to go, in case we don’t make it?”

  It made sense to her. So did not telling her where that particular place was. If it were up to Gwen she would have gotten Adam to take them to the right place, but Groundling wasn’t her. No, currently, he was the man that would become King, if anything happened to Ferdinand.

  The guy glared at her a bit… except that he wasn’t, she didn’t think. He was looking hard and thinking, but not about to attack her or anything. That was just her reading into things, because of her past. Groundling was doing something much different. Thinking about how to best get the job done.

  “General Alstop. He’s the commander of the Embattled. I don’t know if you’ve met?”

  The name was kind of familiar, actually. She ran through a description of him.

  “Middling thin, about this tall.” A hand was held up for that one. “Short silver hair. Blue eyes… Um…” She could see the face floating in front of her well enough, she realized. If it was the right man. “Really interested in making fun of Consev’s shooting ability?”

  That got Groundling to laugh and slap at his right leg.

  “Oh. That’s him. The very man. You can get to him?” He started to pass the files over, but Gwen waved her right hand at him.

  “Let me check this first… One bit?”

  There was a nod, so she closed her eyes, focused on the face floating behind them and moved her information, the data that made up her very being, to the sense of the other man. It was a skill in and of itself. A thing that had been tortured into her, in the original training. Finding her target, no matter how hard it might be to locate them. Gwen needed a clue, but there was one this time. So she was with the man she was visualizing not ten seconds later. Avoiding the pain that she feared would be coming if she failed. That part was always there.

  He yelled at her. Manfully bellowing, if in fear.