by P. S. Power
Bethany didn't give her any instruction, but did suggest she try to remember what she'd been doing in the illusion. That came down to using similar controls to what she mentally constructed for the armored suit controls. The difference there was that... She nearly wanted to kick herself when she got the idea. She'd mentally been capturing the feeling of the radiatives from the suit when she flew. Without that, the instruction set, all the energy in the world was going to be useless. That was part of magic, wasn't it? Telling energy what to do. Even her own mind had built that in for her.
It took a while with her just standing there, thinking about it, but this time, when the energy was released, pushing as hard as she could, Gwen rose into the air. The little button under her mental finger, the left index, compressed fully, but only put her about two feet into the air. The other controls were joysticks under the thumbs. The left one letting her control going up and down, the right allowing for movement.
Bethany stared at her for a moment as she stepped back, then she clapped several times, a giddy thing that seemed truly happy.
"Oh, splendid Gwen! That's incredible. I knew you could do it. How long do you think you can stay up?" That part sounded pretty pleasant, instead of the blasé tone that all the Westmorlands had used in her head.
"I'm not sure, in the... dream thing, is was about half an hour. I feel fine so far." She floated up then, toward the ceiling which was nearly twenty-plus feet overhead. When she tapped it with her left hand, Beth clapped again.
"How exciting! Try to stay up and I'll time you." She pulled a silver watch from a little pocket and opened the plain front of it.
Then they chatted as she floated around the room, trying to take different positions, even as her head began to ache from releasing the energy. She had to keep that up though, or else she'd crash to the ground. It would have been scary, but she'd already dealt with the fear of that. It had been like a training course, after a fashion.
After about twenty minutes she had to come down, feeling like someone had been slapping the inside of her brain with a slightly damp fish. She was out of breath too, gasping as she landed, needing several minutes before she could speak clearly again.
"So, that's a thing. I was a little shorter on time than I should have been, compared to the whole mesmerism thing. Is this a sign that I'm still stuck in that? How would I know if I was?"
It made sense to her, but the Westmorland Detective shook her head.
"Easy enough, look around and focus on things, are they indistinct? Is anything changing as you go through your day? Are things as you remember them or do they warp a bit? The mind is powerful but inconsistent that way. Colors can shift, objects will become larger, or smaller than they normally would be. Try that now and see what's there." She didn't just assure her it was all real at least. That would be exactly what a hallucination trying to control her would have said, and Beth knew that.
The room looked fine however.
Everything was exactly as it should be as far as she could tell. One big difference was that the targets in the back yard were all intact, not having been blasted to destruction by her mighty force blasts. She didn't even think about it, raising her right fist and hitting the nearest target with a burst of force. It made a thunk that could be heard even from fifty feet away. Her aim kind of sucked though, she realized. She'd have to upgrade to a laser sight for it.
The other woman froze, and then nodded gently, smiling.
"Gwen... I..." She shook her head and then carried on, looking at the target off in the distance. "I really don't think that could be a mistake. For some reason these people, the ones that took you, did this on purpose. It should take years just to learn to fly the way you were doing in there. Even at that you were doing better than all but the very best manage. Now this? No, I don't think it was a mistake. I don't know why, but this might have been the actual point of the whole thing. Including the murder of that boy. Someone was trying, perhaps at least, to awaken power within you. I wonder why these however? They're strong things, but healing would be more useful."
That seemed likely, once it was mentioned, but Gwen didn't know what it might mean. Why would her enemies do that? Unless they thought they had some way to control her? She'd make a pretty decent weapon now, if they could. It was an unsettling thought, but she just shrugged, not knowing what do think about it. Bethany didn't seem that concerned however, feeling that they'd done a pretty good job of making certain that she wasn't going to turn into an assassin at least. Or a spy.
"And if this is about Katherine, then they've failed, since she won't have those abilities at all. They're clearly yours. It might change the dynamics of all this, may I use the telestator, do you think?"
That she was asking seemed odd at first, but that probably had to do less with the need to get permission from Gwen to actually use it, and more with the idea that she wanted to do it without her being right there. It was probably a good idea, if they had to keep things secret from the girl in her head.
"Sure. I'll, I don't know, go for a jog or something? This whole thing left me battered and bruised, but that isn't the same as getting exercise. I miss it when I can't do anything for too long."
Then, already feeling a bit tired from the work of flying and all that, she started jogging. The air was warm and the sun hit the new leaves of the trees along the path, but it wasn't oppressive yet. The world smelled fresh enough, and by just going, she didn't have to worry about saying goodbye. That... the whole reason they didn't say goodbye had happened in her dream, but it had the ring of truth to it. Had the person controlling her mind told her that then? Was it Jeffery, the one that she'd thought was the driver that had done it? She didn't know if that was how it worked at all, or even if there were rules to it. Maybe it was different for everyone? Had the man been part of the Counts rape scenario, or was he some strange kind of hero that had different reasons and had actually let his plan be put in danger to save those girls?
The jog wasn't a fast one, since really, she was sore in a lot of places. It made her legs feel heavy, but after the first two laps she was able to loosen up a bit, finishing about five miles before she decided to go in. Normally she'd have pushed for more, but it was hard to stay interested in it for some reason. She did check the world constantly, holding it in almost hyper focus, not knowing what was real or not anymore.
Then, she hadn't known that for a long time, had she?
No, the whole thing, this entire world, was probably one big hallucination or dream. It was something to keep in mind. If that was the case though, she was going to hang on to it for as long as she could. Imaginary friends beat the pants out of not having any at all. Here she was even rich. That was part of the whole thing of course. She just couldn't trust it all.
Gwen also decided that she didn't care. If it was fake, she wasn't leaving. If she was living in some psychiatric facility somewhere and not dead as she'd been told, then they could just keep her there. It was just too much fun, being here, even with the tension and negative things happening every now and then. They didn't have T.V. after all. So it made sense for her to find recreation where she could. Like it was all just one giant video game that she could win, if she did it all correctly.
Then, life really was like that for most people, wasn't it?
She showered again, before going in search of Beth, not knowing how much time she'd need to discuss the problem of her new abilities. No one met her at the bottom of the stairs to clap her in chains at least, though one of the male servants who had taken up a guard position nodded to her. He looked vaguely Native American to her, but a little lighter in skin tone, showing mixed heritage. No one cared about that here, so she smiled at him and waved a little. It occurred to her that it might seem flirtatious for this place, but the man didn't seem to mind overly. In fact he smiled back, then gave her a serious nod.
"Ma'am. May I help you with anything?"
She nearly just said no, but then stopped herself, trying to practice
making conversation.
"Um, what's your name? I seem to have missed it." It could have sounded rude, but he smiled again, so maybe it wasn't that far off?
"Carlton, ma'am."
"I'm Gwen. Nice to meet you. If I ever tell you that my name is Katherine and seem to mean it, put me in a choke hold and lock me in an empty room, will you?"
The man actually stared for nearly fifteen seconds before speaking, then did what had to be his best impersonation of Charles Winslow, his boss.
"Certainly ma'am." He didn't even sound confused, as if it made sense.
She made a point of patting him on the arm, a thing that she knew would be considered kind of trampy here, but it seemed about right given everything. Why should she live her life as a virgin? This body certainly wasn't one after all, and while she'd never done anything like that, it made sense to give it a try, just in case everything fell apart on her soon.
Carlton didn't follow her as she walked to the telestator room, hovering in the doorway, since she heard a voice. It was Mr. Vernor however, who stood in front of the set of five silver orbs, his right hand out and resting on the center one.
"Yes, your highness, I can understand that, but my child wronged Gwen so much, should we stand on the needs of the Kingdom in this?" He sounded a lot more humble than he normally did, and didn't turn around at all.
The voice from the device was a smooth and rich tenor, a voice that was just about right to cause her to have girly feelings inside, she realized. That wasn't a good thing though, since he was the King, and if anyone had a right to claim him, it would be Beth, since they used to date. That had been a while ago however, when she was about fourteen or so, which meant it might not count now, fifteen years later or however long it had been.
"Robert, Miss Farris told you not to do that. It isn't just that doing so might disrupt the kingdom, but her wishes must be taken into account here as well. It seems a grand gesture right now, giving her everything you own as an act of atonement, but I think that she needs more from you and Ethyl. Me as well. We owe her far more than can be easily repaid and I think that we can only do that by being there for her. This isn't about wealth or even repaying her. We allowed a world to be stolen from her... How can we fix that? The only thing that comes to mind is to replace it with a better one. It will take all of us to do that."
It sounded fair to her, except the part where these two owed her anything. She spoke softly, stepping right up behind Mr. Vernor, which still made him jump. He recovered quickly and smiled at her, tightening his mouth a little at least.
"Gwen, how long have you been there?" There was a wry tone to his voice.
"Not very long. Anyway, my people don't deal with things the same way I don't think. The parents aren't responsible for the actions of an adult child, and no one would ever assume that the ruler of a place was responsible for an action they didn't order himself. That said, I do kind of like the idea of giving me a better world than the one I came from. It shouldn't be that hard. Really, you've all done pretty well so far. I guess that I need to step up my game personally now, since things are getting strange, but I'll deal with that, you don't have to worry about it. Well except for helping me when I need it. I'll try to ask though, if anything comes up." That should fix it, she decided, knowing that it wouldn't be the last time this all came up.
It was a matter of honor for them after all. The strange thing there was that is kind of was for her too, and she wouldn't let anyone be hurt, trying to make everything right for her. After a few seconds of silence there was a deep chuckle from the air over Robert's shoulder.
"Well then! As always I stand ready to aid you, Miss Farris. For the time being, I hear that you have a project at hand? The Girls Camp? It sounds fascinating. You truly intend to teach them field craft?" He did sound amazed, as if girls wouldn't be able to do things like that.
"More to the point, I'm going to have others teach them that stuff. Me too. I don't exactly have a lot of experience camping, but that, some self-defense, military drills. It's the Students Service. These kids might have to fight after all. We don't know where things are going to come from, so we need to see that they're ready. In the mean time I need to learn how to keep myself from being taken over like I was. I don't suppose you have a specialist you could send around for that? I have, what, nearly four days to learn it?" She added a small chuckle to the words, but there was a rustling of paper and a muttered phrase she didn't quite get.
Then the King made a sound that seemed distinctly tense.
"I do have such a man... He's considered the best in the Kingdom at teaching people to resist magical manipulation, but... He's retired and probably won't be pleased to be sent out on such short notice. I can but request it of him. He isn't... Pleasant. I have to warn you of that. Nor are his methods. They work however, if you can stand him long enough."
She shrugged, knowing that no one was going to see her do it, since she was behind Mr. Vernor.
"Sounds fine. Please tell him that I said pretty please, and that I'll do my very best? I don't really have a choice after all, since if I wait I might be taken again. I won't let that happen again." It was something that scared her a lot more than she wanted to admit. That loss of... everything. She still felt uncertain that anything was real, for instance. It was no way to live.
"Then I'll have him there directly." The line broke without hesitation.
And no one said goodbye.
Chapter eleven
The man that came to the door did not look pleased as he pushed past Charles, actually sneering at first, looking around at the opulence of Park Street as if it offended him personally. He was old and held himself as if every part of his body hurt for some reason. He had hair, but his face held so many wrinkles and seams that it was hard to tell if the man had ever been good looking or not. It was easy to think that wouldn't be the case, since if he had, then at some point he would have smiled, which might have left a trace on him.
That wasn't the case however. There was anger written there, and tension, pursed lines around the mouth that indicated a lifelong smoker, but nothing that spoke of happiness having plagued him overly.
He was also short, standing at perhaps five feet tall, and so thin it looked like everyone in the world had been withholding food from him for years. His steps were light and quick for all that and he fairly charged into the room, carrying a large leather bag and wearing dingy looking tweed that might have been in fashion once, but if so that time was so long before that Gwen hadn't seen the like on anyone. There were holes in his jacket and at the right knee of his tan trousers, that seemed to be made of something hardy and workman like, which meant canvas, or as they liked to call it in the Western Kingdom, hessian.
The man sounded half dead and half livid, so at least the words he said matched his demeanor.
"Which one of you is Farris then? Out with it, I don't have all day. I'm old and might drop any moment, so if you want to do this, don't stand on politeness." For this place it was practically name calling and cursing in public, which showed on everyone's face, except Gwen's she just shrugged and stepped forward.
"That's me. Gwen Farris. We can set up in the next room, if you like?" She didn't sound short about it, even given the combative tone of the little man. It left her feeling proud of herself, since there was a time when she would have responded to something like that with a closed fist and a thrust kick to the chest. Not too long before even. Of course she might end up going there anyway, but the man actually looked at her and let his face change, if briefly.
He stared, in a way that would have been rude for a younger man and probably was meant to be coming from him, given everything.
"What happened to you? I was told you were taken and mesmerized, but no one mentioned you were beaten too. End up being raped too? Did they do you up the behind?"
It was nearly funny, the way he said it. More so because it hadn't been the case. She probably wouldn't have thought so if she had been sodomized
at least. No one else in the room seemed too happy with his words and Mr. Vernor moved in, looking ready to throw the man out. Gwen stopped that with a smile and a head shake.
"Nope. I had to order some Westmorlands to beat me, to make certain I wasn't going to turn out to be a spy or something later. Less than fun, so if we can prevent that in the future I'd appreciate it."
The man went very still for a moment, looking at her again, as if she was lying to him at first, but he started to nod slowly then, seeming happier she thought. It was hard to tell, because he didn't smile or give any overt sign really, he just relaxed a little and frowned slightly less. In all it could have been her imagination, if she were going to be honest about it.
"Seriously? Well, then we might be able to actually do something here after all. I wasn't aware that you were anything other than a waste of space. The boy did mention something about that, but he tends to think with his cock, so any pretty face has more worth to him than a plain one, and even under the bruises I can see you're a beauty. If I were even thirty years younger..." He didn't laugh or chortle at all, he just stood then, until Gwen waved and walked to the sitting room off the main entry space.
It had cream colored furniture and large throw rugs, that probably weren't called that, Gwen realized. At the size they were no one was throwing them at all. They were the kind of thing that would be good to wrap a body in, for transport to the airfield for disposal at sea. Why she was thinking that she didn't really know, but the little man kept talking as he followed her, oblivious it seemed to the anger he was generating in everyone else.