by P. S. Power
“Get this all down without getting sick and I’ll blow you.”
The words required him to cheat in order to get the meaning. She was offering oral sex to him, if he actually did it, which was a thing that was considered hard to do by most. The other two women figured that she was serious, but Marcia at least also thought of it as good incentive, as long as the girl paid off. Kiko snorted, since that would work against the idea that they were presenting the world, that Bridget had to play by the same rules as everyone else.
Taking the container, which had a fascinating handle built right into it, he smiled, trying to think of a way out of that. Not that he couldn’t do it physically, or even that he found the girl objectionable. Neither was true at all. It would probably even be fun and lead to other things. That was what they needed to avoid.
“How about, if I do this, then you blow your boyfriend? That…” He didn't know if that was allowable either, but Marcia smiled at it.
“That sounds better on the PR side anyway. On three? One, two…” The woman glared at the oil as if it was her personal enemy, though her feelings were just a bit ambivalent seeming about it all. Like she honestly didn’t care. “Three!”
Will had to focus very tightly, in order to ignore the whole thing. A big part of him wanted to feel ill over it, but the exercise itself was a useful one. It was, after all, a new and unusual thing in his world, meaning he was being given a chance to try it in a safe environment, while acting as if he’d done it before.
Bridget finished first, gasping when the last golden drops of oil came out, but he was only half a minute behind her. Ms. Turner matched him, more or less. She set the container down on her desk with a thump.
“There! Now we watch the new guy here for five minutes. My bet is that Will from town is getting lucky tonight, Bridgie. Which isn’t that big of a deal if you’ve already been doing that.”
The girl crossed her arms then, but smiled after a moment, the anger being a mocking thing, meant only to entertain.
“I haven’t, to be honest. We’ve only gone on three dates so far, so, you know, I’ve been attempting not to be a complete ho-bag. Which has been hard, since I really like him. Well, this is a good enough thing anyway. I’ll call him up and see if he wants in on that part of things.” She already kind of knew that he did. Her only real concern was that Willum didn’t seem to want her.
At least he’d deflected off onto her boyfriend.
Turner waved at them.
“Recycle the containers. Now, get out of here, you two. Do what you want for the rest of the day. Working people for three days straight is… Well, handy as all get out, but not exactly inside the standard rules.”
Bridget didn’t say anything, until they were outside, but then she blurted out what she’d been thinking. In part. She stopped about halfway through.
“So, you don’t like blowjobs?” The rest of what she wanted to know was if he didn’t like them from her in particular, or if it was a gay thing. Interestingly, she wasn’t that upset about it if he simply enjoyed men and not women.
There would be hard feelings if it was about her, however.
“It isn’t that. Or even about you. It’s just that, as your current partner, it’s my duty to make certain that things go well for you. That has to include the PR aspects. That was… Everyone has been thinking about that in regards to you, off and on. Besides, now Will from town will know that I’m not attempting to steal his betrothed from him.” Which would be all sorts of wrong, as well as possibly ending in violence.
Bridget hit him in the arm. It wasn’t hard at all, given her level of power.
“Dating. We aren’t engaged to be married. His parents, well, they’re kind of bigots. You know, they hate Infected people? So it probably won’t work out in the end. In the meantime, yeah, I need to seem normal and not get with a bunch of different guys. People don’t seem to get that as me being empowered and progressive as much as seeing it as me just not giving a flying fudge about the rules.” Which to her felt baffling, but she didn’t mention that part out loud.
As they walked, Willum noticed that Hobbs was standing about a quarter mile away, saying something to a man that he hadn’t met yet. Then they started fighting. With their bare hands, but in a way that looked highly impressive compared to the basic Pine Creek schoolboy wrestling he knew. That wasn’t so much fighting as flailing at each other until one of the people cried.
This was far more articulate and skillful, with actual blows being traded, blocked and shifted to the side by deft body motions. Bridget started to take his hand, which he cleared his throat at, not knowing if it would carry over to a new world.
She laughed at him, but let go almost instantly.
“Sorry. I guess this is a bit public. We can be on camera at any time now, since the press is allowed to just visit us here whenever they like. The public can come in as well, but that never really happens. This way though.” They dashed, moving at decent speed for about ten seconds, then they had to start slowing down, coming up on the two men who were fighting then.
Except that it was for practice, it seemed.
The other men both matched Bridget and Will as far as uniforms went. Theirs were real, however. They were on a bit of hard, flat ground that seemed to be a bit like focus stone, but clearly wasn’t. Before he could ask about the name, the men moved apart, neither breathing all that hard.
Hobbs turned a beaming smile on them, which wasn’t real at all, even if it seemed to be. The other man just waved a bit, glancing at Bridget.
She spoke first, her face a bit over-expressioned for the scene.
“Hey, peeps. Will here managed not to get vivisected by Doc Burrows, so he’s actually being assigned to do some things. Working with you for training, Hobbs. Also with Mark and Rigs on that stuff. The plan is…” She stopped then, feeling self-conscious about things.
For a moment he thought it might be about his heavy handed challenge to her offered reward for oil drinking, but it wasn’t that at all. She was feeling odd about the idea of being on the cooking show. That concept was hard for him to understand, since to his mind it was presenting as a play, but one about cooking didn’t seem to fit anything he knew about.
Still, his job was to work things out, not understand them instantly.
“Bridget and I are supposed to work on cooking things? Baking as well, I think. I have some experience with that from back home. The goal will be to train Bridget to a level that will allow her to be involved in the show, for PR reasons?” If the words made sense, he couldn’t tell, but the pale man with curly brown hair just laughed a bit.
“Not a problem, kids. You can work with me. You’re both good with scrubbing the floors and generally doing all the scut work, right?” He sounded a bit mean, but inside the man was actually attempting to be funny about it all.
Willum bowed a bit, forgetting himself a little.
“That sounds like a good beginning position.” He stopped then, shaking his head. “Forgive me. I didn’t introduce myself. Will Baker.” Then he held out a hand, country fashion. It was taken by the other man instantly.
“Denis Tompkins. Call me Denis, or Den, if that works better? Sweet though, since if you two do that for me, then I will officially no longer be the show’s flunky. Score for me.”
What any of that meant, he wasn’t certain, but the man seemed pleased.
Bridget looked away then.
“Anyway, Will here was just put to insane testing for three days straight. Marsh is giving us a pass to do whatever we want for a bit. He doesn’t need sleep, but still…” There was something in her tone, but Hobbs just bowed at Willum. That got one in return.
“So you seek to begin your training now? That is commendable. Shall we begin?”
Bridget made an outraged noise, but Will felt fine, so nodded. It was, literally, why he’d come to the entire reality he was in. It only made sense to him.
In the end, that meant that Bridget got to stay there
, to work with him for the full power portion of things, since she was tiny, but very strong and hard to harm. Denis was a regular man that way, though well skilled, and Hobbs required him to keep doing everything perfectly, until mid-afternoon. That was when Den needed to leave, for a training session with his kitchen work team.
Hobbs just bowed at them all, which for once everyone did back, making Willum feel a bit less like he was doing the wrong thing.
“Again at ten in the morning, Will? For now, I think you should attend to Denis here, acting as your guide. He has gained much skill and knowledge in the world of food preparation in the last year.” Then the man walked away, without saying anything more. It wasn’t rude, but there was a feeling from the other fellow as he did it that was strange. Almost as if he were very pleased. With Denis.
It took him several minutes to work that one down himself. He did it as they moved off to the rooms they lived in. He hadn’t been back to his at all in the last days, but it was understood by everyone that they were to shower before stepping foot in the kitchen. Possibly on pain of humiliation or even a thrashing if they did otherwise. That part didn’t even appear to be a joke, though it wasn’t mentioned out loud.
The reason for Hobbs pride was that his most serious student, Denis, had held his own with both Bridget and Will, without taking injury, even though they had powers that aided a physical fight, and Den didn’t. It took a lot of focused concentration to work that out, since it really hadn’t occurred to Den at all. He’d gotten that his efforts were all right, but nothing more than that.
The guy waved to them at the first floor landing.
“Meet me out front in fifteen minutes?”
That part wasn’t that hard for Will, really. He hurried, but didn't need makeup, or fresh clothing, since his amulet would provide that for him. So it was simply washing and drying for him. The towel used there was clean and not the same one that had been there several days before. It had different thread along the edging, so he noticed that part. There was a basket for such things, which he placed the damp cloth in, before putting clothing back on with a tap.
Then he hurried to the ground level, getting there well before anyone else did. That meant he was just standing there, when Olga, the giant lady, walked past him. She smiled, but didn’t say anything, her embarrassment making her face turn red.
Still, she stopped after a bit, forcing herself to speak to the new person.
“Ah. Hello. You are Will, correct?”
It was innocent sounding, though before he could answer, three people, two men and a woman, walked over toward them. The lady had features that were a bit like Kiko Burrows, but managed to be a bit more square as well as mean seeming. Behind her the two people were dressed far more simply than the one in front was, but held equipment of some kind. He got that from the context. These were, most likely, some of the people that recorded information. For television. Whatever that was. Again, he recalled the screens that played it, but didn’t know what they’d want from them. Possibly singing, dancing or performing. If so, he was in trouble, since he hadn’t prepared anything.
Instead, it seemed that the woman in front mainly wished to be rude to them. Primarily to Olga, who she found offensive, based on her plain looks.
“Olga! You’ve been dodging our questions for the last several weeks. Are you a lesbian? No one has ever seen you with a man…” The woman didn't think that it was the case, but wanted to make the giant lady turn red, so she could claim that it was about anger, rather than embarrassment.
Instead of allowing that, since the woman was one of his new people in that world, the IPB, Willum laughed.
“Yet, here I am. A man and everything.”
That got him really noticed for the first time. He had purple hair, with eyes to match, but otherwise was normal seeming enough. Possibly a bit too boring, really. Except that the woman lit up when she really looked at him.
“You’re dating Olga?” There was derision in the tone, which wasn’t aimed at him. The large woman started to hunch in on herself, when he reached up and took her hand, facing the threat in front of them.
“That’s right. She’s wonderful by the way and before you ask, yes, we have been discussing marriage. She’s a bit reluctant, but I think I’m wearing her down.”
Will was about out of things to say when Denis came out, listening for a bit. Then, for some reason, he stared directly at Olga, his face wry seeming. After a moment the large woman laughed.
“That isn’t true. Will just said that, because he thinks you wish to make fun of me.” Her voice was playful however, and her accent had faded a good bit for some reason.
She didn’t make him let go of her hand, however, which he didn’t do himself. Her hand was big, and callused, but she wasn’t trying to break his fingers for being that daring or anything.
The slightly mean woman sneered a bit then, but also kind of stopped after a moment.
When she spoke her face was different seeming.
“You’re saying that this isn’t your boyfriend? Does that mean you do like women?”
Instead of being embarrassed, there was just a large shouldered movement then. It wasn’t exactly normal, but it made her large bust line heave interestingly enough.
“Da? I enjoy women. Men as well. This is… Not so large a thing now? I had heard that you Americans do not have a problem with such?”
That got the smaller lady to soften a good bit.
“That’s true. Still, we should play this for the ratings. Why don’t you and Will here kiss? Then we can go on about how you Infected all are being loose and libertine these days?”
Bridget came out then, her face flat, even if it was pretty clear that she’d worked out what was going on almost instantly. Inside she seethed a bit, but there was no outward acknowledgment about that part of thing. Will had to pull Olga over a little, but they did manage to kiss for several seconds. Then the mean lady acted like it was cute, leaving after no more than a few more, rather friendly, comments.
Bridget watched them leave, then looked at Denis.
“That’s dangerous, if she figures it out, isn’t it? Using infected powers on the press is kind of a no-no.”
Den shook his head, but seemed pleased with things.
“I honestly didn’t do anything to her. I bolstered Olga’s confidence a bit, but that was all. I think you two just shocked her into realizing that she wasn’t going to bully anyone here today. Also, Olga… you do girls?” The man watched her nod.
Embarrassed again.
Then he smiled.
“Totally hot. We should get together for that, later?”
Will shook his head a bit then.
“Shouldn’t you get with both of us? After all, she’s sort of my girlfriend, isn’t she? We just announced that, publicly.” That had been an act, but it got everyone to seem happy, saying it that way.
Which wasn’t a horrible thing, in his book.
Chapter thirteen
The next days were spent on several different projects. Hobbs worked him on unarmed combat for about four hours a day, with a lot of both striking and grappling being involved. Then, each afternoon he was rushed off to the kitchens to practice cooking skills with Mark. That one was interesting, since it didn’t just involve Bridget, who was being run through the paces as well as he was, but also Cin from the front office, a small man who looked exactly like Troy Lopez, who was called Tobin and the small girl that he’d met on the first day.
Sara, who looked to be nearly an adult, was highly attractive, but was actually a child inside. A very young one. On the good side that meant he wasn’t expected to flirt with her in particular. Not that she wasn’t attractive enough, but there was just too much information to keep together in this new world to add that kind of thing as well. As fast as he was learning how things were done there, Will was also always behind on what he needed to know.
The trick, he discovered, was all about keeping things vague, when possible. Real
people didn’t share complicated back stories most of the time, unless they knew others around them very well. At least in the land he was standing that day.
It was difficult not to gape at the marvels of the kitchen he was put to training. The whole thing was done in silver colored metal, which was, he’d discovered steel, instead of actual silver. The floor was made of claylike tiles. Things that reminded him a bit of the shopping malls that he’d seen. The incredible place didn’t just contain counters to work on, food stores and ovens, either. There were stove tops that could be turned on with the shifting of a few dials, the heat controlled perfectly. On command. On top of that, there was a cooling box that mimicked a root cellar, except that it did a slightly better job, as well as a freezing box. That one could be used to store frozen cream, as well as make ice from water.
Not that they were using a lot of that kind of thing in their lessons that day. The goal was, simply enough, to make unique seeming cakes, then to frost or ice them in a decorative fashion. It was considered important, since Mark and his cooking team cohorts, Warren, Kerry and Denis had all hinted that there was a battle of a kind coming up, which would require them to defeat their enemies using baked goods.
Which, Will had to admit, seemed insane. Particularly since he’d figured out how to watch television, and had located programs of the rival show, which was called “Cake Kings”. They were good at fancy decorations, but seemed to lack super human powers. It would be a lot more efficient to fight them using those skills. Unless they had them as well, but were hiding them.
In which case they might well be more clever than they appeared.
Still, either out of fairness, business or simple entertainment, the crew there was put to making cakes. That took some effort on his part, since the folk in the land he was in considered those to be a much sweeter, but slightly drier thing than he was used to. One of those factors was even considered a must.
They wanted the darned things sweet. Moist however, was a positive thing to most of the people, so after three attempts he was able to produce something that was considered different enough that after tasting a bit of the thing, un-frosted, Warren closed his eyes.