Friends and Enemies (Gwen Farris Book 5)

by P. S. Power

  Givens nodded, and waved toward the back, where a rather stern looking Westmorland stood, watching her. Not helping. It didn't matter, since Gwen had restroom oriented things to do, so she rushed past. The hallways on The Falcon were big enough to walk past without brushing by, but she did call out.

  "I know, I should rest. I feel fine though, so far. Um, I need to pee. Bad. Sorry."

  It took a few minutes, and after she washed her hands, she came out, moving right into a Bethany ambush.

  "What was that? I don't recall you learning that one. Is it from when you were taken over? Is it a problem now?" She was concerned again, which didn't make a lot of sense.

  She tried to think through it all. She'd been brainwashed into learning how to fly and use force blasts by a Healer at one point. It had been done to help her out, even though the man had set her up to come save the world in the first place. The problem was that she hadn't really been trained to do those things. Not in the real world. Her skills that way had been refined, but she'd skipped out on years of practice.

  "Nooo. I just had to pee, and Katherine suggested it. I had all the parts for it down already, I just needed to put it together. It's sort of obvious, isn't it? I can fly, and this is basically the same thing."

  "I don't think it is, no. Not that I know of. Gwen, people go to school for years and never learn to do anything that dynamic. Even my family wouldn't have simply learned to do that sort of thing in a few moments. They'd need to be trained for it. Granted, you're a brilliant woman, but no one is that good. Almost no one."

  Gwen frowned, and then waved to the loading bay.

  "Okay. Um, I can do it. Maybe if I work out something else to try? So, you know, you can see that it's just my powers being used and not Katherine or someone else?"

  There was a stern look then, as if she were being naughty, which was about to go over like a sack of wet cats, when Gwen started walking. She expected to be grabbed by the arm, and pulled back, but her buddy just followed along, not being all that friendly.

  Hopefully this crap wasn't going to last too long.

  It was already getting old, with all the lying and worrying.

  "Um, right, let's see... Um, how about I make everyone else stronger? Really, I'll do part of the lifting for them, mentally. I've never done that before, but I think I can do it. The concept is just a variation of what I was just doing." It was harder than it sounded like, and took about half an hour to get set up correctly, but in the end Beth was able to lift about four hundred pounds of things and carry it all easily, controlling where it went, without Gwen having to do more than throw energy at the whole mess. It wasn't that difficult. It took some concentration though.

  When that was settled, and she proved that she was just clever, and not being mind controlled, her friend smiled and shook her head.

  "We should stop for now. You're to be resting that way. I shouldn't have let you do any of it, but I wasn't watching. So much for trying to read quietly in my room."

  "Yep. That's way too lazy. I'll be good and carry things like a real girl. Come on. You're dressed well enough to help out."

  That got a grunt, from Givens, and a few of the other men stared at Beth a bit more openly than they had her. Not too much so, since she was dressed like a Westmorland. That was about the same as announcing you were a bomb, after all. Plus, she was famous. Nearly as much as Gwen was now. It would be even more true when the book Gwen had written finally came out. It should have been more than enough to make Beth the important one, giving her pal more time in the press, but socialite body-theft victim played well with the masses, it seemed.

  Plus, it was probably a bit like her asking that people acknowledge a black baseball player in her world, in the nineteen-twenties. It wasn't totally impossible, but calling a person a Westmorland was just about the same as saying the n-word back in the day. Common, normal, and still meant to demean and make a person feel less important.

  Gwen though was perfect as far as the newsies were concerned. They'd go on about how none of what had happened was her fault, for hours. Which was true, even while they implied it was all about how the Westmorlands had rifted Worthington, the capital. Even though they fucking knew better.

  Erin Debussey had kidnapped regular people that had some magical power, and brainwashed them into rifting. That was way more dangerous than having a few Westmorlands around ever would have been. If anyone ever learned that trick again, the world was well and truly fucked.

  Not that the bigots had simply gone away. Not even after she'd personally told them all how the training worked. It was torture, and so close to evil that even some of the leadership of the hate movement had quit being assholes. Just pulled up stakes, told their people to stop being morons, and walked away. About half of them had done it. That left the other fifty percent. Luckily for her most of them were the dumb ones. They were truly loud though.

  Then again, it had only been a few weeks since that had taken place. Even the people in the know had figured it would take decades for her to have a real impact. If she could. So far that seemed about right. It didn't help that the Westmorlands had been tortured into not speaking out on their own behalf. They couldn't do it. Just like they couldn't make up their own magical powers like she was doing. To her it wasn't all that hard, now that she had a base to work from, but in their worlds you had to be tortured into doing things. It was the only thing that worked.

  It explained why they'd all missed that she'd be able to rift already.

  They finished up, with everyone acting like she was being a bitch when they were done. They wanted to go eat, which did sound fun, but they needed to go over the merchandize first, to make certain everything was set up right and balanced. Givens looked away, clearly frustrated with her, but let her take the time to make sure it was all right. Worse, it really was, as far as she could tell. No one was all that happy with her then, even if they kept their lips closed.

  "Wow. Well, I bet I'll make lots of friends when I insist that we check it again at least once a shift, right?"

  An actual groan went up, and one of the men, who was young, and tired looking, like a basset hound having deep black circles on his pale face, cursed.

  Called her names, instead of trying to wish her dead. That was fine, as far as she was concerned. It wasn't like she'd never been called names before. Most of the time she hadn't earned them though. This time she knew she kind of had.

  "Fucking bitch. Who do you think you are? This isn't a passenger ship. I didn't sign up to work twice as hard, just to impress some girl that won't sleep with me anyway."

  Rather than deck the man, which was tempting, she waved at him.

  "I know. Still, if we can prevent loss, we should, right? What's the normal to-loss for The Falcon?"

  Givens knew what she meant, off the top of his head, being an old hand, in a literal sense. They got a bonus if the loss ratio was low enough. It was a big enough part of what they made that it could add up, if they were careful.

  "Bout two and a half percent. Pretty much like everyone else."

  Gwen shrugged, and looked at him, locking eyes.

  "The Peregrine runs a point zero three loss ratio. Yeah, I know, they're little, and have less to watch, but I bet we can drop that in half, if we try. That's a lot more money, um, mets for a boat this big, isn't it? One and a quarter percent divvied up between you all will add what, two hundred mets per body?"

  That would be good pay, for a single trip that took less than a week. Even if they only made three runs a month, and she was certain they did more like five, it was a good way to end up rich for this world. If they could pull in even a thousand mets per month, all told, it would make them wealthy. She'd never thought about it, since in dollars that would have been just enough to live on back home. Here it was different. She'd taken fifty-odd people out to a nice dinner once, and it had only cost about twenty mets. They didn't even have tipping, so it meant even more than she'd been thinking.

  They st
ill groaned.

  Probably because half of them were hung-over. Gwen hadn't gotten that, but Kate did, knowing the signs better, and tattling on them in order to explain the reason why they were all being so lazy. That would have never been allowed on The Peregrine. Then that was the flag ship, and as far as she could tell, reading between the lines, The Falcon was kind of the punishment vessel.

  Luckily she was pissed off enough already, and slightly depressed, which meant that riding these guys for the entire trip wouldn't hurt her feelings in the slightest. Oh, they'd hate her, in the end, until they got their pay envelopes. Then it might change their minds.

  She waited for Katherine to mock her, about thinking how she was going to ride all the men, but there was dead silence from inside.

  Until she took over, her lips curling up.

  "I can show you how to do it. If I get your percentage down to under one, you'll have to each give me half of your bonus for the next six months. For the value of the lessons. What do you say?"

  There was muttering, and Givens laughed and looked at her like she was being silly.

  "Ten percent, and only for trips we get that low. Otherwise it won't be worth it for the men."

  Gwen spoke then, her voice shifting obviously enough that she nearly winced.

  "That works. No fair slacking though. I'm not going to give you all my secrets for free." She wasn't exactly a con man, but she'd seen the movies. The trick here would be confidence, and seeming like she knew more than she did. "For now... Let's get that food, and set up the watch list. I'll do the first one, with Givens. Get ready to work, but know it will pay off." She sounded nearly chipper, which was totally fake. She felt like falling down. She was sore, from the unusual work, and angry at everything. Plus, she'd started out exhausted from her travels just to get to Lexington.

  That one was so familiar that Gwen didn't think about it for a while. She'd lived a lot of her life a bit upset, so this wasn't new to her. People had been mean to her, and screwed her around, because she wasn't like them. The hard thing was that, for once, it wasn't really about people fearing or hating her for being ugly.

  Beth had been pushed to betray her though, if in a silly way, and it hurt, and made her feel bad. Worse, the woman wouldn't have had a choice, Gwen knew.

  So avoiding her for a bit might be a good plan. In all the world, the last she wanted to do was make Beth feel bad for things that were beyond her ability to control in the first place. The woman deserved to be treated like gold, not hit with a grumpy and moody her all the time.

  Trying to keep up with the task that Kat had walked them into would be a good enough reason. Not that she knew why the other girl had done it. They didn't need the cash. If the woman planned to buy something, then she could just ask. Not that they needed much. A new toothbrush, some makeup. Nothing all that huge.

  It was an excuse to keep working though, after the meal. She didn't eat much, and stayed with the loaders. Bethany did too, even though, she informed Gwen a bit blandly, they were supposed to dine with the Captain each evening.

  She didn't seem upset to be with the men though, and smiled happily enough that it was probably a bit too much for proper company.

  "We have that wager however, so I'll make the needed excuses with the Captain. It should be entertaining to see what Gwen can manage. She's most capable."

  It wasn't much of a bet, being that she was going to get paid if she worked them into a place where they could get their loss ratio down enough. If they didn't, well, that was fine, too. It was something to do, and while she had brought a book or two with her, there was only so much reading she could do each day without her brain bogging down.

  After the meal she just worked, being pawed by Givens enough that even she got that he sort of liked her. It was casual enough that she didn't hit him, figuring it all out in time, but she did give him an angry look after a bit.

  "What the fuck? We're working. I know, I know, you think with your dick, but come on, work with me here."

  "Um, sorry?" It wasn't an apology.

  After a bit she worked out where the disconnect was. This place had never had a King Richard to name the member after. If that was the actual starting place of the term.

  "Penis. You think with your member? I'm running out of things to call it. Stop for now, will you? I'm not having a good week. Things are tense. People acting funny and others trying to kill me. Sorry."

  "Ah, this wouldn't be the first time I was given the brush off. Still, gotta try. Let's get the watch list made up first? I need to sit, not that I love paperwork. It does get my tush in a seat, which is better for my feet. They're killing me. I don't suppose you'd rub them for me?"

  Gwen shook her head.

  "You wouldn't like it if I did. I've never done anything like that. I've never done anything. I was different, back home, you know?" She didn't want to go over it all, but was a bit shocked when the man nodded.

  "I got it from Red, off The Peregrine? Told me all about what was in the news that way. How you used to be a man? A soldier, wasn't it? Did special animals shows, due to your huge member? I got that right, don't I?" It came out so deadpanned that she nearly answered, denying the claims.

  Catching herself at the last second she nodded.

  "Smitty said that? It's almost right. I was a woman there, too, but horribly deformed. I couldn't get into something like the military, but I had to fight a lot, since people tried to hurt me, for being different. The police kind of looked the other way. Um, the constabulary, back home. I didn't do any pornography though. Trust me, no one would have wanted to see it. Not anyone that you'd want to eat dinner with." She stopped, and stared at the man, who was a bit shocked looking.

  "What? I hadn't heard that. Weren't you just some housewife? Husband and kids?" The tone was nearly begging, as if he really wanted that to be the case.

  "Nope. Basically a hermit. Didn't you ever wonder why I was so weird? I mean, you keep flirting with me, and I haven't even gone out with you. I should have, but I got put out of the loop for a while, and the next thing I knew I was engaged again."

  She followed him to his office, which was about the size of a closet, but still had two chairs in it. Benches without backs, but close enough. He moved in to sit behind the tiny desk, then tapped the scratched wooden top.

  His voice was a bit rougher for some reason, when he spoke.

  "You have pornography in your world? I figured that kind of thing would just be us, here. Sick bunch of scum that we are, you understand."

  She nodded.

  "You look like saints, that way, compared to what we have back home. I haven't seen so much as a bare shoulder since I've been here, you know?" That was pretty much true, except for a bit of flesh flashed during fights.

  There was a happy clap then, and a rustle of paper as the man got things around for their job.

  "Good then. We'll go when we get into port? If you get the time. Now, I was thinking Holsome and Fitch for the next watch? They're the only two that weren't half drunk when they came in. that's the hard part of a crew like mine. Working out who was drunk last."

  Chapter nine

  The days kind of dragged on after that.

  The airship was, probably like most of them were, big and slow. That, how everything moved at a glacial pace, was one of the things that Gwen really just kind of hated about the new world she'd found herself in.

  Right now it was making her cranky.

  Moody in a way that no one around her deserved to have to put up with. They all did it, because there was no other choice, being trapped with her like they were. The back of the boat, the loading area, was empty now. Finally. The floors dirty and dingy, compared to the well swept and tidy Peregrine. Even the brass safety railings looked like they needed about six years of polishing in order to fix. Bits of tarnish had grown over time, until the whole thing was just a bit poor looking.

  That was another difference that she was just starting to notice about her new world comp
ared to her expectations. The place wasn't a rich steampunk operation out of a movie in the slightest. Once the covering of vast wealth and power was pulled back, even a tiny bit, the whole place was just like anywhere else. It was a bit disappointing to realize, actually. At the Vernors, or even in the areas just around them, the entire place had seemed so different. Lustrous and polished, all the time.

  Now she didn't know if that was true, even for the things she'd seen firsthand.

  Oh, in the end it wouldn't be all dirt and downtrodden masses either. That was probably the rule in all worlds. The rich were called that for a reason, and the poor made do with what they had. It could be shared a bit more evenly though, without hurting anyone too much. Spread out so that one person didn't hold so much of the value that only they had a decent life.

  Beth had been helping with the unloading, watching her the whole time as if she were afraid Gwen was going to fall down. That, or strip her clothing off and run around giving everyone handjobs. For a perverse half second she kind of wondered what that would be like. Not with everyone, but doing something that close with anyone at all.

  She never had. It had never been an option for her to do anything. She'd never gotten more than a kiss on the cheek either. Even that had been from her father. The man that had raised her, at any rate. Paid by her psycho real mom to watch her.

  It left her feeling sad in the moment. Then everything kind of did at the moment, so she ignored the idea.

  Her life had made her stronger than regular people in some ways. She knew sadness first hand and long term, and how to handle being in a bad mood, because it had been her entire life for so long. Most people were taken off guard when they felt like this. For Gwen Farris it was so normal it was nearly her real super power.

  She glanced over at Beth, and shook her head a tiny bit, not understanding what was going on in particular. Her blonde friend had been acting suspicious again. It had happened a few times now, since she'd gotten to this new world, so she knew the signs of it.