Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel

by P. S. Power

  "Allow me to introduce first, the sevro-matic!" He had to call for several pieces of fruit and vegetables, but the train kitchen supplied it all, and didn't ask for money for it either. In fact, several of the workers came out to see what was going on.

  The thing did indeed slice things, and with different attachments could grate as well. To everyone else it seemed that the man was showing them something very unique, but no one there wanted to buy one. They weren't housewives after all. Not even Martin was.

  "No? Well, I thought not, but it does make for a good place to start the show. How about something a little more... adult?"

  Gwen's mind tried to turn that into something dirty, but the ceramic containers that he pulled out simply weren't for sex at all. She got it first however, even if the configuration was different than anything she'd ever seen online.

  "A home still?"

  The man pointed at her and smiled hugely.

  "Right you are! This particular one is designed for home use. Just place the right hand pot on the warming surface of your stove, and let magic do the rest. A simple mash, some brewer's yeast and time are the only other things you need. In a few short days you can be making your own home brews, the likes of which even the finest drinking establishments can't have. This will work for anything from whisky, to brandy, from rum to deep wine. It's a great hobby for both men and women, and might even make a few mets for you, if you put the time into learning the skill."

  He didn't ask if anyone wanted to see it working, since it would just take too long anyway. It wasn't really a horrible idea, taking up a hobby like that. People could drink what you made after all, so it was useful, after a fashion.

  Then, without so much as a glance at her or Carter, he slapped a shower head on the table, which got everyone else to look at him funny, except Beth, who glared at Mr. Palmer and looked ready to hit him.

  Hadley grinned, "this is a most amazing device. Clipped securely to a shower nozzle, it sends a curtain of rain down on you, instead of a full powered spray. I've tried it myself, and I can assure you, it's worth every cent and a thousand more. Once you use one, you'll never want to go back to anything else! These are in high demand, and in limited supply. I expect that you'll all want one for your own home. Only three mets a piece."

  Sally looked at it and sighed.

  "That would be nice, wouldn't it? I only wish I had a shower to put one on. How does the clip work? I can take it on and off?"

  That started a conversation, and Carter kept looking away, even as the others examined it, as if it were a true curiosity.

  Gwen said nothing. She didn't want to lose Hadley a sale after all. Then he broke out the magical items that he had. There was more variety in that, and a few of the things looked familiar to her. One of them was a forensic unit.

  Sort of. It clearly wasn't high end, and was designed to do only half of what the real thing could, but it was also being sold for ten mets, not the price of a Lorrie. After a bit Beth held out her hand and looked at it, and then sighed.

  "This is very good. The readouts could be a little more sensitive, and complete, but the device is quality work. Gwen, you should buy several of them, for the local Constabulary back home. Is this your personal work, Mr. Hadley?"

  This time the man shook his head and looked over at Carter, as if telling a secret.

  "I didn't do the initial design. I did build it myself, and the parts aren't perfect for the task. It will allow a wife to assure her husband's fidelity, or a husband to find out who's been pinching his tools from the shed, however. There's a more advanced device used by some law enforcement. This is only a poorer version of that. Would you really like to buy some? I wasn't certain that they'd sell at all."

  Beth nodded, so Gwen did too. After all, it was either a huge problem, and the man was ripping of Doctor Grainger, or the fellow had figured out how to save a lot of cash on each unit. Possibly both. She bought four of them, planning to mail them to the Doctor Professor. Hopefully he could take some ideas away from it.

  Then, without waiting, the man pulled a "dot aimer" which was what people had started to call her magical version of a laser sight. This time Cart Palmer started to breathe a little hard. It was very clear that he hadn't been totally honest about what he was doing as far as business went, wasn't it?

  She smiled and rolled her eyes, not caring too much about the money aspect of things, but Beth brought her right hand up, holding a silver PC in it. One that could hold any kind of field at all, including one that just made a person dead, with no outside sign at all. Gwen didn't think that was what her friend had, but she didn't want to find out either.

  "Mr. Hadley, you are aware that several of those devices are currently restricted, aren't you? Worse, you don't hold patent to them at all. I can't speak to the shower diffuser, but the forensic device is the intellectual property of Doctor Grainger of Western University, and the dot-aimers are that of Gwen Farris. All of these have been developed in that same University's offices, which means that you have some kind of a line to that place. Being that Carter Palmer also works there, I find it highly odd that you two didn't admit to knowing one another yesterday." The rest of the people seemed scared, and possibly ready for anything, but Mr. Hadley just started to laugh.

  He didn't stop for nearly thirty seconds either.

  "Too true. I admit it. The dot-aimers are restricted. They take an average man or woman and instantly turn them into a marksman, so I can see that. Though, they're only being withheld from sale, not manufacture. Even at that, there is no rule against selling them, you normally simply can't get them. Mr. Palmer showed me how to make the radiatives for them myself, so these are perfectly legal." Then he heaved a put upon sigh. "Except, of course, that I don't hold the patent on it. The forensic devices are a cheap knock off, but solid work, and done differently, so that I don't have that problem there. As for the diffusers, well, I was told that those are free and clear. I'm just selling them after all."

  Gwen cleared her throat, and looked at her friend, then gestured at her, hoping that the weapon would be put away. No one else had one, so it was like showing up at a party in a ball gown, when everyone else was in bathing suits. Awkward and difficult to explain.

  "Fine. You can keep selling all of them. I'd like for you to get with Doctor Grainger however. Carter, for the time being, will you consider running your plans past me and the Doctor before acting? I don't have any problem with you making some extra funds, but you're being a little shady about it so far. There's a lot to be made from these things. Plus your own ideas and all that. Relax a bit, will you?" She stared at the man, who made a face, and looked at the rest of them as if planning to either run away or explain.

  They were on a moving train, so he went with the second one.

  "It's my old girlfriend, Regina. When we broke up and she took up with Charlton Meiranger, they tried to push me out of all the projects. I'm afraid that I panicked and grabbed a few of the things for myself, and pushed them into production, so that I'd hold precedence. It's legal, as far as things with them, Reggie and Charls, go. I can't take credit for these things however, since much of that goes to other people, but please, don't blame Mr. Hadley. It was all my own doing, and I fear I left out that part of things, in my rush to secure a place."

  That was a different sounding thing than what he'd said the day before too, wasn't it?

  Gwen sighed, but then gave him a goofy grin. She didn't hate the guy yet. Yes, he was pushing himself into her ideas and grabbing hold, but she'd flat out told his entire class to do that. Was she supposed to blame him now? That just seemed cruel and like a waste of time.

  "I have a lot of other ideas, if you want to try some of them out? There's no reason that has to be a problem. The big problem now was that you told me that Regina would make a good ladies assistant, when you already knew about her trying to take you out of things like this? How would that work?"

  The University man tilted his head at her a bit and then tw
itched, his left eye working on its own, due to the stress of the situation, it looked like.

  Everyone else regarded him then, and Beth still held her PC, if not at him directly. It was oriented more toward the table than any single person. Not that it couldn't be one of them before they so much as stood up to flee.

  "You asked if she'd be good in the position. She would be. Just because she's pushy, overbearing, and no longer holds me in high esteem, that doesn't mean she'd fail at such an occupation. Not that she'd take it. She's very certain that she's the next Doctor Professor at the University, and if not Western, then one of the other front gate schools. But her disregard of me, for being poor, is of no matter. You asked if she'd do well, and I think it's true."

  Beth was looking at him coldly, but Gwen let her own face relax.

  The guy had been dumped for being poor? So he strikes back by trying to prove himself and make a lot of money. Not legally, or at least not totally so, but it was understandable.

  Now she just had to ask herself why the cute grad student was allowed to potentially cheat her, and the sleazy waiter wasn't?

  The answer was, she realized the same for both.

  This way they had a reason to have both of them questioned under telepathic review.

  Gwen tried not to let her idea show on her face.

  It wasn't easy.

  Chapter eleven

  They pulled into the second station along their route at about two in the afternoon. Most of the morning had been spent sitting around a table in the dining car, but then everyone broke up and went their own separate way. For her part, Gwen continued to write her story. She was putting out about ten pages a day, but doing it by hand was slow and clumsy. It would take years to finish at the rate she was going.

  That wasn't true of course, since it wasn't going to be that long, but it felt like it. The funny thing about that was, if it took her two years to get done, no one here would so much as blink about it. To Gwen it was a glacial pace, but she had a feeling that anything finished within ten years would seem speedy and topical to the people here. It was amazing that anyone ever finished anything.

  She had seventy pages though, and that would make, what? Twenty-five type set book pages?

  Sighing she put it all away as the train slowed, wondering what was going on. They stopped first at the station, but that was just to let them all off while the train itself went in to a hanger, or whatever they called the barn like structure where the giant crystal pack that powered the thing was kept.

  This time she just pointed at the building off in the distance and asked what it was. Martin Cordell, who'd followed her and Bethany off, answered, sounding slightly amused that she didn't know what it was.

  "That's the charging barn. They can't actually move the crystals, since they're just too big, so they have members of the Chargers Union come in and do the work here." He sounded like he actually knew what he was talking about too.

  Gwen growled under her breath and rolled her eyes, "naturally. But when the air fields shut down because of snow each winter, those lazy bones can't be bothered to send people out for us, can they?"

  Martin spun and looked at her, his face going very still after a bit.

  "Sorry? The chargers can't be bothered to come out for you? Here I'd been hearing how the Vernors have been keeping you as a virtual prisoner this whole time. True, in a gilded cage, but still, a cage. It sounds like you have more agency there than what the Newsies have been saying." It was leading, in the strange way that these people had. He didn't really ask a question, and he was being pretty rude, for the situation, but Gwen didn't let herself go stiff or anything.

  It was a chance to get the real word out, possibly.

  "You're kidding, right? The Vernors treat me like their own child. Probably better than that. I keep having to get them to not give me all their money. Their funds. We do things differently where I come from. They even let me work on airships when I want. I've been pretty busy lately, but after my tour with the Special Service is done this time, I'm thinking of doing that for a while. Trying to get on as an Apprentice Engineer, if I can swing it. That, and I think I have some work coming in the mailroom of the head office." She was kidding about the second part, though it had been announced in the press here, a while back.

  The man looked at Beth and then shook his head, slowly.

  "You make a very strange heiress, Miss Farris. Many of the things you say seem... Well, it's almost as if you don't look down on anyone. That isn't how we do things here." At least he seemed disgusted by that fact, rather than like he was telling her to change.

  It was an odd thing to say though. Why would she do that? Money didn't make you better than anyone else, and keeping busy just made sense. Even Ethyl worked in soup kitchens part of the year, doing actually work, with her own soft, rich lady, hands. There just wasn't enough else to do in this place. No World of Warcraft. Not even Donkey Kong.

  No, here, if you wanted to do something, you needed to go out and actually do something. It was really hard too, since it meant exposing herself to people. She didn't bother whining about that however. Even when she told them about her life before, she had a strange feeling that no one here really understood it at all. Billy did, in part, but he was the only person that had even seen what she used to be. How crippled and different she was. Ugly...

  She would have killed to just be homely, at one point in her life. It was part of why everyone seemed so good-looking to her now, she knew. Fat, thin, buck toothed, or old, they all looked so strong and symmetrical. They just didn't know how good they had it.

  Instead of answering, she nodded and waved for Clara and Sally to come over. They were being helped by Sam the Porter and another man, the muscular white fellow. Both of them were being very polite, even though the women had to be known to them as whores. It hadn't been well hidden or anything.

  "Over here! We're going to catch a ride over to the hotel? I'll get you both a room. Martin? Do you have a place to stay? It might be good to have a man along, to keep the ladies out of trouble." Not that they'd be the ones having problems, being masters of the world they lived in. No, the hard one to keep tabs on would be her, but she was working, so that might help. She just wanted to keep tabs on the man, and hoped that the more often he was around her friend, the less likely he would be in the future to spread hate without thinking.

  Part of her campaign to save the world, one asshole at a time.

  "I was going to do the same, but that would be lovely. These trips can be so tedious, if you don't have someone to talk to. Luckily this is only an overnight stay. I'm supposed to head over to WXFL when I get in, to do a piece for a friend of mine. I don't suppose that you'd like to come with me and spread some of your radical ideas, Miss Farris?"

  She nearly froze, but then looked aside at Bethany and shrugged. It wasn't what she'd had planned, but there couldn't be a better place to start than in the heart of the enemy's stronghold, could there? On the good side she was nearly certain that Martin didn't really mean it, so she could surprise him a bit. It never paid to be predictable, did it?

  "That sounds wonderful! We should bring Beth along, though I don't know if she'll be allowed to speak. Still, you might want to warn your friends there. If they insult her, I will put them through a wall. I can do that now." That was just true. In fact, she had options, when it came to doing that, from physically throwing them, to blasting them with magical energy, or even just using a Crin, which might be easier on her head. It didn't hurt that much now, after a good meal and some sleep, but there was a little tickle in the back of her head still, that reminded her of the slightly sick and over full feeling of a migraine. She really didn't want to push things that way, if she could help it.

  The man next to her gave a look that spoke of tolerance, and forbearing, as if her little girl threats just didn't faze him at all. It was one of the hardships of this place. No one thought that women could fight at all, and when they did it, a good half of them
ignored what had just happened and substituted their own reality in its place. Only the Westmorlands, and a few of the more intense military organizations acted like she wasn't just something pretty in a dress to look at. Not that she didn't look good. Hot, in fact. Even in her SS uniform.

  She decided then to never call the Special Service the SS again. It was a bit troubling in connotation, and one of the Counts in charge of things was named Goebbles. In fact, he was the Western Kingdom's propaganda minister, more or less. They didn't have the Nazis here at all, and as far as she knew, Adolph was still a valid choice for boys names, but it weirded her out a bit, she had to admit. He was a good man though, Count Goebbles. A liar of grand proportions, but then, she'd handed about a third of his most recent material to him. If he was a liar, what did that make her?

  Cordell said something that didn't sound incredibly rude, and then kept his mouth shut, ignoring what she'd just said, but seemed pleased enough that she'd promised to go to his hate filled radio station. Beth on the other hand didn't seem all that pleased at all. She glared a lot, as they rode on the Public Lorrie, which looked a lot like a brown and green railcar, except for the large motivator wagon at the front. The inside was nicer than the train had been, and the seats, while not comfortable, looked like they were cleaned daily. That there was such a difference in raw quality was odd though. It was nearly like the trains were an afterthought, a thing that no one had ever really cared about.

  That, or something for people that were mainly too poor to have any other option. It was expensive to use though, for this place. That and slow. They would have gotten to the North line about a week faster, if they had James drive them and she climbed out herself once a day to recharge the Crystal pack. Actually, she stopped and did the math, and worked out that it would have cut ten days off the trip. They wouldn't have been in place to observe things first that way however, and it was a good place for her to start seeing a bit more of the world, wasn't it? If they'd driven, she never would have met any prostitutes at all, for instance. They certainly wouldn't have been invited to one of the Vernors parties.