by P. S. Power
"I've picked up some information from my sources. I have to say that I'm a little flabbergasted by it all-" He stopped and looked at Gwen, and then tried to explain. "You may not know the word, flabbergasted, it means..." Martin looked around at Beth, as if seeking help with it, but Gwen waved her hand.
"Flummoxed? Amazed? In awe of?" She grinned, but the man nodded.
"Exactly. So you have that word too? I wouldn't have thought, since it's sort of a made up thing, isn't it?"
She had to think about that one for a moment, but finally let her head tilt.
"All words are. That we have as many in common as we do probably means that this world isn't that far off of my own really. If the theory holds, there are an infinite number of worlds, but the further you get from your starting point, the less they'll have in common. Having magic seems like a big thing, but a common language is probably a bigger one. There are even some people in common. I've seen at least one or two that are famous where I come from for instance, just on the street. Not a lot, but it's happened." Or at least they looked pretty close. If the DNA matched she didn't know.
The man leaned in, his head nodding as if encouraging her to go on. Beth however, patted his knee lightly.
"Go on? You have news? It's flabbergasting?" She took her hand away, but the man glanced down at the spot anyway. After all, that was probably the same as her giving him a handjob in public practically. Of course he'd noticed.
"Right. Well, I truly figured that there would be a strong backlash against myself and Miss Farris, for having told people about what has been going on, how wrong we were. I mean, it's still hard for me to accept that the Westmorlands aren't the dangerous evil that I thought all these years. I have you right here to correct me too, Bethany, so I thought that most others would be at least as troubled. Some are, but even those are mainly letting go of their overt hate, in light of what the King said on the Telesar last night." He smiled, and then stopped talking, trying to force them to ask what had been said.
Bethany chuckled.
"Oh, I bet that made Adam happy. He's our leader, but has a particular love for Gwen." She winked and stopped there, letting the words just sit in the air.
Gwen sighed, "yep. He loves me so much that he'd set me on fire with his mind, if I wasn't so squirmy, and kept fidgeting out of the way. What did Ferdinand say?"
Martin looked around the train car, but raised his voice, instead of softening it. Making an announcement of the thing.
"King Ferdinand told the Kingdom last night, on an all stations address, that what you said about the Westmorlands was indeed factual, and that you and he were working to remedy the great tragedy that had been going on there. Then he offered to abdicate the throne, if the Westmorlands requested it, as a sign of his shame. That's a token, naturally, since we already know that they won't be able to even think about that, but it was nice of him to make the offer, don't you think?" This got addressed to Bethany, who'd gone wide eyed.
"That...Yes, rather." Then she trailed off. After a bit she rallied however. "And people are actually, I don't know, I suppose that kindness is too much to request for my fellows, but,"
Martin coughed, his hand going over his mouth. "Hot and cold. People are still afraid of you and your kind. Now they simply begin to understand that you aren't to blame for it. That won't sit well with everyone. Some are hearing that this was done in their name, and seeking to have you all freed. Others hear it and try to blame someone else. Mainly the King." He looked at Gwen and flipped a single palm over, letting it rest on his right thigh. "You and I are catching part of that, naturally. Myself more than you. You're the hero that saved the world and now is rubbing our collective noses in our shame. I'm the fool that helped a good deal of that shame to be piled up. I gather that several people have been calling for either my resignation, imprisonment, or death."
Bethany looked at him and nodded.
"That sounds fair. After all, I'm nearly certain you, personally, have called for all those things for me and my family. Many times. It's a bit harder to hear when it's directed at you, isn't it?" She managed to seem almost sweet about it all, as if she were playing and not really taking him to task for it.
"It is. I owe you an apology. All of your people. I suppose I should go and see to that, over the Telesar? That should about end my career as a protector of the common man, shouldn't it? Well, I guess I can always go into the family business, if father will still have me." He looked down at his feet, which seemed a lot more humble than the Martin Cordell she was used to. Then he wiggled his feet, to get her attention. "Shoe making. I did these."
They were nice, she realized. Then she blinked and smiled.
"I have need of a shoe maker, for something that might be pretty big here. Running shoes with textured soles. If you're looking to actually change jobs, I mean. I'll bankroll the whole thing. It's a real project however, so don't work in if you don't mean it." She really wanted something that she could run in. Boots didn't really cover it.
Cordell laughed. "Well, I'd be pleased to look at the idea, if you wish, but I may have to do it from a prison cell. Someone has to be punished for this, and it's been my voice speaking to everyone, being so wrong. I still can't believe it." He turned to Beth. "Are you sure you aren't at least a little evil? Just a bit?" There was a tiny hopeful look that went with it, and Beth shook her head.
"Not at all. It wasn't allowed."
That got the conversation to sober.
Gwen took a deep breath and sighed, then shook her head again.
"Shoes, and rebranding for you. We'll need to have you apologize to all the Westmorlands, grovel a bit. Go through some of the conditioning they have, live on the TS, that kind of thing. We have a lot of work left to do on this one, but that's only part of the problem. We still need to get better jobs for the low-magic users. If we do it carefully we can start with manufacturing. I don't want to destroy your world, but there are ways to make jobs and increase cash flow to the lower economic sectors. It won't give them more power really, but starting with true equality in the minds of others won't work anyway. You already have their ears, so we can stick you back out front. When you aren't designing shoes, I mean." She had a wicked idea then, but didn't know if she should mention it yet.
Then she did anyway, since she was being more than a bit of a meddling witch already, wasn't she?
"Why don't you and Bethany get engaged? Or at least go steady for a bit? That will show that you're really throwing in on the side of right, and might keep you out of a cell. Though if we do anything like that, you should do grounds keeping at Central or something. That probably won't really happen, since it's still a secret military operation, more or less." She was just talking, but Eugene Hadley stood up and started to clap.
Then Carter Palmer did the same and Sally ran over.
"Oh! An engagement! We should have a party and see to announcements. That's how that's done, isn't it? I can't say that I know the proper ways of doing things, what do we do?" She looked at first Beth and then Gwen, ignoring a rather red faced Martin all together.
Bethany seemed calm about the whole thing, considering that getting married had just been mentioned and most Westmorlands didn't bother doing it, since they couldn't have children and people would normally have made that very hard on them and their partner.
People like Martin Cordell. In some cases, it would have probably actually been him making trouble over it. That decided Gwen, since there was a certain symmetry to the idea.
She spoke, looking directly at Sally.
"Oh, well, the first thing we need to do is tell her people about it. Martin's too. We can make an announcement at the party that the Vernors are having in a few weeks. We should get in touch with them as soon as possible on it. Tomorrow I guess? We need to get Ferdinand in on it too. This is pretty big after all. I know, Beth, you should get Agatha Longbranch to help you put it together. She's the best." Gwen started to smile, trying for wicked looking, but Bethany ruined
it all.
By flipping her hands up and looking at Cordell.
"You haven't asked yet. It isn't the worst idea ever. Oh, awkward and uncomfortable, but alliance marriages are historically effective."
Then, because life was much stranger here than back home, Gwen watched the man stand, and instead of sensibly running away, perhaps to lock himself in the safety of his little cabin, he got down on one knee and reached out, to take Beth's hand.
"Miss Westmorland? I have no right to suppose that you would do me the honor of marriage, but I beg you consider me for the position? I have prospects and need to atone for the... wrongs that I've done you and yours. I know that this is far from what you would want for yourself, and is a surprise, but if you would consider it, I would be most pleased." His voice was smooth and professional sounding, and he didn't even blush.
Gwen would have. Christophe had when he'd asked the first time, and there hadn't even been any awkward kneeling.
No one said anything, and really, Gwen suspected that Beth would laugh, or at least say that she'd think about it, and leave for a bit. She didn't.
"Yes. We should do that. A long engagement however, so that we can get to know each other? I'll need to find out if you snore, for instance."
There was applause then, which probably showed how bored everyone was, really. Hadley moved out of the train car, toward the front, only to come back about ten minutes later. He didn't say anything, but everyone else was excitedly trying to figure out what the best plan would be. Except Clara, who just looked sad. Gwen noticed, and moved over to her, sitting down as everyone else made excited noises.
"What's up?"
Clara didn't need that translated, slow or not.
"It's just romantic. Like a story, isn't it?" She seemed nearly sweet for a bit, her hatred of Bethany and her kind being forgotten already. It was like she'd never really had been all that tied to her dislike to begin with. "Not anything a whore will ever have. No man wants to put it in his wife, knowing ten thousand have done it before, do they?"
Gwen supposed not, but shrugged. "So, lie, and say you were always a maid? It will take some practice, to learn all the right skills, but we can fake up credentials for you. Of course you'll have to do it right, if you don't want to give yourself away." She looked at the woman, who was decent looking, but not brilliantly so. A nice six on a scale of one to ten? Good enough really. Her teeth weren't perfect, but that wasn't a big deal here. They had dentistry, she thought, but not orthodontia. Her hair was a little lank at the moment, but pulled back. That could be fixed with a good washing and some makeup. Not that she didn't have some on, but it was overdone. Whore face paint, rather than the nearly invisible stuff a real maid would need.
Clara sighed and shook her head.
"Once a woman of easy virtue, always so. That's what they always say at least."
Gwen snorted at her, which wasn't very ladylike. "They? You mean the people you work for? Did it ever occur to you that they have a stake in you sticking around, thinking that you're stuck doing what you have been? You can be whatever you want, if you have the skills for it. If you want to become a maid, you can. You'll have to stop trading whatever you've been doing for the men on the train here to get my things pressed, but," She blushed, thinking about it.
Clara just wrinkled her nose.
"Charging crystals? It's dead boring, but people need it done and will pay for it."
That got Gwen to blink. She'd just assumed that Clara, being slow and making her living by literally selling her behind, wasn't strong enough for things like that. It hadn't even occurred to her that it would be otherwise at all.
"You could go into doing that, if you're good at it. Charging crystals for a living."
"Ah, I tried once, but you have to be in the Union and that means knowing someone that will get you a place. I'm good enough, but no one wanted to give me a chance. It costs to buy in too, unless you're so good that they have to beg you to do it. I'm not that great at it. I could have done it though. It didn't work, so I ended up on the street instead. Then, well, a girl has to eat, and I'm not the best looking doxy ever, so I sold what I had to, and learned to do whatever men wanted. Then I spent the last ten years just going from place to place, being bought and sold. Sally says that the new house she's working for isn't so bad, and got me in." The sadness was back, as if she were truly trapped in that life.
Once a whore, always a whore?
Well, everyone sold themselves, one way or another, didn't they? Most people at least.
"I have contacts in the Chargers Union. Actually, in a lot of places. What do you want to do? Wait, first, let's deal with the situation at hand. You have a contract with Sally? She paid for it?"
That was a lot different than what Gwen had been thinking was going on there. Sally was a prostitute, not a madam. Right? How did that work?
The woman nodded a little dumbly, her bottom lip sticking out just a bit.
"She did. Fifty-three mets to my old boss man. I could have said no, but she says it's a good place and that I can make a lot, if I'm willing to do backdoor work. That's..." She looked away, and then smiled a little. "I do that. It pays more. Rough stuff too, but only a little. I don't truly like being hurt."
Getting up, Gwen worked her hand into her buttoned cargo pocket, on her leg, and worked out a hundred mets. Then she waved to Sally, who moved over, still smiling about the engagement stuff. Before she could do more than sit down by them, the wad of bills was stuffed into her hand.
"I'm buying out Clara's contract. That's a hundred. It's a fair price." It was vastly overpaying, she knew. It would make it really hard to refuse.
Sally went very still though, and seemed to stop breathing. Then, very slowly, she tucked the cash away and looked at Clara.
"This is what you want? We really could use you at the new place."
"Yes. Miss said that I could be a for real maid, or even a charger, since she knows people. Then, maybe sometime I could meet a man and be his? For real? Even that Westmorland woman is getting a good man. I want that too."
"Are you really sure?"
When the slow girl nodded, Sally did something very strange, and pulled the bills back out, then counted out half of them, and passed them over. Clara's eyes went wide.
"What..."
Sally smiled, her eyes watering just a bit.
"For your new life. To get you started. Don't spend it. Save it for when you have that man, to get a good start."
Then she got up and walked away, leaving the car all together.
Which was a shame, since Gwen still had some questions for her. Hard ones.
Chapter fourteen
Really, she decided, she was of two minds about the legal system of the new place she was in. On the one hand they wouldn't have had half the problems they did, if the general rule was to question everyone like they were actual suspects, instead of acting as if being a fine citizen meant that people couldn't possibly be criminals.
On the other, well, they beat people at times, if they thought they were guilty. As long as they were lower class. It was one of the real problems of this place. The ones they found guilty of crimes were nearly always poor, which meant they didn't have a lot of magical ability, more or less. That or they weren't too smart. So to the haves of the world, it had to seem like those others were the root of all their problems.
When all crime, virtually, could be laid at their feet, it was simple enough to assume that it really belonged there. Some of it probably did too. The poor were a lot more likely to steal for instance, out of need or even simple desire to have more, than someone that was incredibly wealthy. They weren't any more likely to be ceremonial killers though. Less in fact.
Where she came from serial killers were almost always white men, because they were the ones that could get away with that kind of thing. Here, they were probably all relatively powerful people as far as magic went. That or nobles. People that weren't allowed to be suspected, for the most part
. Who'd even look at them, given that they were so wealthy and successful? The definition of an upstanding citizen, more or less, being a person wealthy enough to not have to worry about being falsely accused.
She was at a loss as to who was going to turn out to be the murderer. She thought she knew why, as long as they counted taking out magic in the world as the reason, if not the driving force behind that. She even had a good guess as to what was going on there. It was being done to stop the next Dr. Debussey. Whoever that would turn out to be. For half a moment, she could see it all, very clearly.
After all the terror attacks and the very close call that the world had just gone through, nearly ending at the hands of a relatively small group of people, someone had decided that it would be better not to have any magic at all, then to risk it happening again.
Or...
Well, it had to be a group of people, didn't it? That went without saying. She'd wanted it to be one or two people, but that wasn't the case at all. Deep down that was just a fact. It stuck in her throat and her mind, as the next day passed, right until they climbed onto the new train. It was, she realized, the one that all the deaths had happened on. Or at least it was on the right line.
Bethany just sat, and the crew all climbed onto the new train, with only the conductor and the engineer changing. The new conductor was a big man, but like some of the others working with them, he was massively muscled for this place, not fat. Like a power lifter, she realized, rather than a body builder. Sam the porter was smaller than that man, and he'd been about the most muscular person that she'd ever seen. Outside of television, that was. Now they had three men on the train with them that were all big like that. They had short hair too, but that didn't mean much, since a lot of men did here.
She'd never seen any with long hair at all, for that matter. Not in the Western Kingdom. A few in Europa had, she realized, thinking back to her few hours spent there. They didn't seem overly military, but they all moved smoothly, like fighters. It was a thing that big powerful men normally didn't have going for them. They tended to move in blocky patterns, pushing the world aside with their bulk. Even the ones that had been in her martial arts classes with her had been like that. They had power, so they used it.