by P. S. Power
The first time had been about the fear the Gwen could be taken over by someone else, which had, in the end, actually been all about Katherine. The Westmorlands weren't perfect in all things, and had some gaps, even in their magic, as powerful as it was. For instance, they didn't do well with death.
They could kill, on command certainly, but their telepaths couldn't read the mind of a dying person very well, if at all. Their precogs couldn't see where the bodies were. Which made some sense, given that they worked for nobles, who were, by definition, the ones with things like that to hide that had a right to.
So Katherine and her had to mess them up a little bit. More to the point, she did. The fact was, no matter how it was sliced, she was dead. A ghost invading another person's mind, possessing her body. Stealing her life away, as if she had a right to it.
It didn't take a rocket surgeon to work out that Beth was afraid that Kate was taking over. It also didn't take a lot of effort to understand that it was probably the fair thing to have happen.
'Oh, stop it, Gwen!' The voice in her head still seemed snooty and a bit to commanding, coming from such a waste of space. 'Miss Westmorland might be suspicious of me, but she trusts you beyond all reason. You should know that by now. As for you being the invader here... I have to suggest that the fault really is mine. I may not be the perfect person, but even I can see that much. Now. So stop being a sad Susan, or I will take over and start servicing all and sundry. Teach you not to be maudlin, won't I?'
It was geared toward humor, rather than attack, so Gwen didn't play back, not being able to care at the moment. Her normal personality was starting to come back, it seemed.
The problem there was that she had never really liked herself all that much.
At the back of the loading deck there was a bit of a cluster. Men standing there, watching, as the last of the bundles of goods were being loaded onto the wagons. There was a new man standing there, tallying the whole thing, doing figures as he stood, using a rather standard looking clipboard and pencil. The one in use here was a bright enough red that it showed from the other side of the space.
Without waiting, not wanting to stand there like a tourist herself, while the man did his job of figuring out the breakage and loss ratio for the trip, she called out. Her voice was a bit rough, like she'd been yelling at people for days. Given that she had, off and on, her anger getting the better of her at times, everyone else being so slow and lazy, it felt well earned.
"Let's get this place swept out and ready for the next load." That wouldn't be coming for two days, which meant that the men got leave in town until then. They were eager to get to it, so groaned at her.
They did that a lot.
This time, instead of sneering and acting like they were idiots, she forced a grin.
"Come on, don't be whining little bitches. You know that you aren't going to want to do it any more in a few days when you stumble in half drunk. If we work this part now, it will be done and over."
Givens muttered, and looked at her from the corner of his eye, his gold hoop earring shining at her. Twinkling in the combination of glow lamps and natural morning sunlight, which worked its way in from the open back portion of the airship.
"Can't see as how it matters. We don't lose points for things being a little dusty." The big man didn't really glare at her, but it was pretty clear that he wasn't going to be mopping up all the time, as soon as she was gone.
It was true, too. Functionally speaking it didn't matter, as far as actual shipping went. They didn't get paid for spiffy. They made their money by being fast, consistent, and not breaking shit. Only two of those were under their real control. The first one was all about what the Captain did, along with the weather.
She nodded, as Beth walked over with three brooms, holding one out to the man. Like a present. An unwanted box, filled with goat droppings, from the way Givens glared at it.
Gwen explained her reasoning, making up some bullshit on the fly, trying not to sound dejected as she did it.
"It's about the minds of the men, Givens. When a person does a job, they take responsibility for it. The more they do it, the more invested they are in always getting things done. It seems weird, I know, but clean floors and shined railings lead to a well running ship, just as much as not being drunk on duty does. It isn't a direct thing, but in the long run people will take more pride in what they do, if they do it all the time, and that leads to a smoother operation."
The man knew when his balls were being buttered, it seemed. It was an odd, and clearly crude, turn of phrase, but Beth smothered a smile with her right hand as soon as she passed the wooden handled straw broom over to the man. The words had been muttered, but clearly enough that they all got the idea.
Then, as if the whole thing had been his idea, Givens bellowed.
"Let's get it done. The loss and spoilage will be done when it's done. Standin' on the man like that won't make him go faster!"
The rest of the men, twelve of them, moved then. Slowly, but the work finished before the dock loading boss waved Givens over. There was pointing at the paper, and everyone else started that way, as soon as they had their brooms put back in the supply closet.
After a while, looking a bit grumpy, Givens waved them all over.
"Seems we're all going to be paying up for a bit. Loss was point zero nine. Even." He glared at Gwen, and then winked, doing it in a scrunched up fashion that she knew was actually very lascivious. A thing that she'd only been told about after doing it that way herself for about four months.
Everyone else, including Beth and the Vernors had thought it was hilarious, apparently. Her walking around acting like a slut that didn't know what she was doing. It really would have been funny, if the second half hadn't been true. She was so clueless there that it really wasn't a joke. Not as far as she was concerned.
Givens reached out and gave her a hug, moving closer to her than she was used to other people doing. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was enough that Beth moved in and actually pulled on his shoulder.
"None of that please, Mr. Givens. Gwen is a proper lady."
The men chuckled at the interplay, but the crew boss did move back, nodding.
"I guess I should have made my play sooner? Hard to beat a Duke that way. Point zero nine! That's the lowest loss ratio I've ever seen on a boat this big. First rounds on me, boys!"
That got a happy cheer, which was probably a bit too much for something as simple as not breaking a lot of stuff, or letting rats and insects eat it. The job took some doing, watching the cargo and making sure things didn't get out of hand, but it wasn't magic. Just work.
After that people rushed off, their desire to go get drunk, or laid most likely, sending them all off into the wind faster than most people in their world moved without fire being part of the equation.
Shrugging, she looked at Beth, and smiled, trying to be a bit more pleasant than she had been for a few days. It was simply that she was feeling watched. Observed on a level that wasn't normal. Nearly an intense staring, like every tiny movement, and each facial expression, was being recorded. Beth could do that, in a certain analytical state, but she wasn't in that one at the moment. She only used it for investigation. Without someone else to get her out of that kind of thing she could end up being stuck.
It was close though. Intense and pointed. Like she was waiting for a mistake to be made. One she could capitalize on.
"Gwen, dear? We should go and get our gear. We can't know how long the investigation will take, and need to make preparations to stay for some months."
That was the first that she'd heard about the idea of the trip being longer than a few weeks, all told, but kind of understood what was happening. For some reason she was being kept out of play, back home. Not that it had totally been kept from her understanding what was going to happen.
The only thing there was that she didn't know why that would be. Just that she was being watched again.
Sure, she could rift, in th
eory anyway. No one had made that big of an issue of it however, that she could tell. Even Beth had told her that Adam freaking Westmorland himself had basically brushed off the idea instantly. Not because he didn't think she could manage it without the rest of the training, either. He actually thought she could. He just trusted her not to abuse the ability.
For some reason.
There had been no call from King Ferdinand, asking her to not do it either. She'd chatted with Christophe a few times, using the telestator room for personal business on the trip, which wasn't forbidden, as long as you didn't use the thing constantly. It was the kind of thing she sucked at. Being a good fiancée, or even girlfriend was so far outside of what she knew that it was practically alien to her.
That part had been a bit strained. It was almost as if Chris had been constantly censoring himself. He'd let slip that the king was actually happy with her progress, however. Glad that her goal of putting rifting into an object was coming along ahead of schedule. Happy with what she'd managed to get done on the project so far, without the underlying panic that she would have felt if someone she knew to be a killer had that power.
So it didn't seem like it was all about that. She could understand if it were, of course. Power corrupted and all that, or so she'd heard people say. It seemed to her that it was kind of a personal choice, if you let things go to your head. More than that, the corruption tended to come not from having power, but in what people did to try and get it. Gwen decided to be happy enough with what she had. It would be enough to keep her in line, she figured.
Even if she had less, it would. All she really needed was a way to stay fed and housed well enough. In this body, in the world she was in, that was a pretty easy thing to manage.
Instead of making a big scene about the whole thing, guessing at the idea that a certain Westmorland asset wasn't going to simply explain things to her for some reason, Gwen jogged to their shared room to get things cleared out. It wasn't as if she'd unpacked, so it didn't take long for either of them to get things going. After a bit she realized that she hadn't been speaking, just grumping along like she had been for a while now.
"So, what's the deal here?" She meant with how Bethany was clearly acting like she thought Kat was going to take over full time, at any moment, but the answer that came ignored that portion of things nicely.
"We're to find accommodations, and get to work as soon as possible. This region is known as Teocah. It's basically the Southern tip of the Northern continent, of the Western Kingdom. That's not too confusing is it?" There was a pretty smile to go with the words. It was a bit less worried seeming than what had been going on, so Gwen did it back.
"I see. So I'm the wicked witch of the East?" It just popped out, and before she could explain about the story of Oz and Dorothy, Beth clapped twice.
It was shocking, and her face was amazed.
"You read the 'Tale of the Road'? With the Tinman, the Bold Lion and the Strawman? That was one of my favorites as a girl. How Rebecca and her dog, Puddles, followed the gold road to the magical city of Oz. I loved that she'd worn the silver slippers the whole time, and got to go home to her own home in the end, using the power she always held inside herself. It resonates with a lot of people in my family." It was a bit of a speech, and her pal didn't stand there while she spoke, grabbing her bags and walking out with them.
Gwen answered after a bit, flowing along at a walk that was decently quick, considering they were both carrying enough luggage for several weeks.
"The story is different where I come from. Dorothy, not Rebecca. The dog was Toto, and it was the Cowardly Lion and the Scarecrow, but I think it's probably the same story. I should read your version here. Anyway, I meant the part where you're acting weird. I don't think that Katherine is really planning to take over, Beth."
"I don't know what you mean." It was clear that she was not at all pleased with the sudden alteration in topic. It showed in every part of her being. From her stiff posture, which was a trick to pull off while carrying three decent size bags, to her tone, which was suddenly cold.
"Well... You've been acting strange for the entire time we've been on this boat. Seriously, even before that. You threatened to hurt me, if I didn't go with you. I'd thought it was about, you know, rifting, but then you acted like you hadn't realized that was an option yet. How you missed that... The thing is, you wouldn't have missed that, unless you were really focused on something else. If it was the idea of being attacked from the outside, then you would have told me, so I could protect myself. There had been assassins, but no one seems all that concerned about that now, for some reason. No, you keep trying to make sure that I'm not at home, which means... That you, and probably the other Westmorlands, think that something is going on with Kate. She has been more active lately, so..."
She waited, still walking, as Beth made a face, and turned away to hide it. It was incredibly obvious, and had to be to everyone that saw that kind of thing, but the people there did it all the time. It was like they thought looking away hid things. Like a little kid covering their eyes and assuming it meant you couldn't see them.
There was no talking for a while, even as they got out of The Falcon. The airfield they were in was wide open, but surrounded by a very even, sort of low, tropical forest. It was pretty, and she could hear birds off in the distance. The air was warm, but not blistering. The humidity was really high though. She started to perspire, her blue jumpsuit absorbing a bit of the liquid as they moved.
This world had never invented air conditioning. They had fans, but for some reason they weren't used very often. Thinking about it, she wrinkled her brow, since it was clear that Bethany was done with her attempt to find out why she'd had been acting like a goofball for a week.
So she suddenly changed the topic.
"You know, it should be possible to move streams of air using magic."
Beth turned and gave her a baffled look.
"To what end?"
"Like a fan, only without moving parts. It could be smaller, and more portable that way. I'd invent cool blowing air, but I never actually learned how that was done back home, so other than knowing its possible, I don't have a clue. Fans though, that could be done pretty well. Everyone here wears heavy clothing all summer, and it must be brutal."
Almost as if trying to give the lie to her words several half naked children ran past, playing on the edge of the airfield, kicking a ball around. They weren't little either, some of the boys being old enough that their bare chests were interesting to her.
Blinking, she realized that several of them were actual men, all with dark tan skin, and black hair.
Bethany smiled at where she was looking but didn't comment on it.
"That sounds like an interesting idea. Probably too expensive for most to bother with, which is why I imagine it hasn't been done yet. Still, the very wealthy would probably enjoy cooler homes. Do you think you can do that? Learn that kind of skill?"
She meant moving air, Gwen realized after a bit. Magical air conditioning was beyond her, and probably almost everyone there. If she got anything like it going, she'd be rich, replacing ice boxes with magical units. Richer. It nearly wasn't a thing she needed to worry about that way, but if she could make anyone else's life better it seemed like the kind of thing a body should consider.
"I don't know? I think so. Moving air isn't that different from moving a box of canned goods. The trick will just be doing it in a steady stream, I think. Anyway, where are we going?"
The answer there was a long, and slow, one.
First they walked to the edge of the airfield, where the office was, and then got the girl working inside the thing, who looked Mexican to Gwen, and not all that pretty, compared to most people, missing half of her teeth on the top, even if she wasn't that old, helped them call up a cart.
Not a lorrie. Not a carriage or even a wagon. A cart. Pulled by a living animal.
"My brother, he has a donkey that will do. It's about a three mile wal
k into the city from here. It will be easier without the bags, no?" She seemed happy enough about the whole thing, her face a bit shiny with oil, and spotty. Covered with makeup, but it was clear that the woman was on something. What teeth could be seen were blackened in places. She was also skinny, for this world. No more than Beth or she were, but enough that they looked like they could all share clothing.
The girl who looked to be in her early twenties, had on a brightly colored, and very short, skirt. Her legs were bare under it, which Gwen noticed when she got up. She also had bruises on her legs. Little ones that had scabs in the middle.
Blinking, she worked the idea out. This woman was a drug addict. Whatever else this world had going on here, she'd not heard of that one being a huge problem so far. Probably because polite people didn't bring that kind of thing up with aliens at parties.
Bethany smiled at her, and nodded.
"That will be fine, I'm certain. Do you know of a good hotel in the area? We might be here for some time."
There was a single palm flip then, and a big smile that didn't seem embarrassed about the teeth under it in the slightest measure. Gwen would have been, if it were her mouth. Then she'd come from a world that was more vain that way. She'd always been uneasy about herself that way. Even now she felt it. A thing nearly as powerful to her as the drag of the Elder Gods behind her.
"There are many. I don't stay in the good ones often. The bad ones I know much of, but they aren't for sleeping, if you have another option. Just staying for a few hours. Julio might know more. My brother. Let me get him for you, it won't take long."
They sat on a bench, the still air cloying, and damp. There was nothing to do, except listen to the Telesar, which Maria had on in the background. When the program changed, a familiar voice coming across into the room, the woman turned it up, her face beaming.
"Agatha is on! This is my favorite program. If I ever capture a husband, I'll know how to do the house up right, thanks to her. Do you know her?"
Gwen was a bit taken aback by the question, but nodded.