Strangers and Lies (10 page)

It got a smile from Gwen, but she didn't mention anything. It was just the way they did things.

They all ate together, which was nice, and took another hour, since there was no need to rush at all. Mrs. Vernor had some work to do after that, which worked well enough, since James showed up just as Gwen and Peter walked out to the circular drive, hardly having to wait even for a few minutes as the white lorrie, with its strange motivator on the front and carriage like looks, drove up. It was a bit like a true horseless carriage of course, the design being more similar to that than a car was, by far. It worked, but it meant the whole thing was fairly slow, since it wasn't as protected from the elements for the driver. At least it was a nice day, with no rain or overage of clouds. The blue was cheery, but slightly odd looking, as if there was just a hint of smog in the air. That was a thing they didn't have here though.

James smiled, but didn't do anything else until the brake was set, the wooden lever being pulled on his left side with a bit of force.

"Good afternoon ma'am. The roads seem clear today, we should make good time to your destination." He smiled at Peter, but didn't ask who he was. Instead he waited, patiently, as if he had all the time in the world. Almost no one rushed here. It was relaxing, but frustrating at times as well.

"James, this is Peter. He's my new runner. I don't know what that means, exactly, but apparently part of the job involves threatening to hit me with heavy sticks if I can't fly high enough. Peter, this is James, the best lorrie driver in the city. Note how
he
never threatens me with sticks at all? You should take a lesson from that." She said it jokingly, but the boy gave her a serious look.

"Agreed, that was a bit too low. Later I'll try to
throw
heavy things at you instead." Then he looked at James, who was scowling just a bit at him. "Can I ride up front with you sir? We don't have another woman with us, and I think there was talk of the need for a chaperone earlier. Not because of
me
, but just in case, I don't wish to risk the wrath of her mother. Mrs. Vernor is a very good shot with a crin. Have you gotten to use the new dot-aimers?" Without waiting, as if the whole thing had been settled, Peter climbed up to the driver's seat, which was large enough for two, being more of a bench than anything else.

As he helped her into the back James smiled a bit and looked toward the front, where the boy was, even if the lorrie itself was in the way. "Cheeky one that, Miss."

"Tell me about it. But he's a sweet enough boy, just don't hire him on as an instructor for the kids." She rubbed her sides covertly, since it really was a little tender from having been thwaped a few times. "He'd get them into shape fast enough, but it's hardly the most fun thing ever."

That got a chuckle and then the man pulled back, leaving her to sit alone. There was no telesar in the thing, which made sense, being how large it would have to be since, the idea of making something like that portable was apparently not doable yet, but that meant she just had to sit and think for a while, while they moved along at about twenty miles per hour. She watched the traffic through the side window, and took in the scenery, which was nice this time of year, it being early summer now. Soon it would be too hot for heavy dresses as well, which meant she needed to get something else going. Airships were always relatively cool, she thought, at least while they flew.

The University was large, but not as imposing as it would have been if she hadn't just come from Park Street. That place was nearly as large, nicer, and empty compared to the school. The halls actually bustled with students, most of them in slightly shabby suits, except for the fairly rare female students, most of whom were wearing long dresses and fanning themselves thanks to the heat. Only two or three were wearing "women's suits" which probably had to do with the fact that Erin Debussey had favored them. It was kind of a shame, but that fact kind of meant that the fashion was dying out, at least in the local area. No one wanted to be overly associated with her on campus for some reason. Probably thanks to the fact that she'd had a lot of people killed.

Go figure.

Gwen tried to smile at people, since she was getting more than a few glances from them. Most probably didn't even know who she was at all, newspaper coverage aside, so it was about her, or rather Katherine, just being pretty and well dressed, rather than Gwen being a freak in the wrong body. So far at least. That part was odd. The people here really
didn't
seem to think less of her for having been replaced, even if she had ended up in the body of a good looking heiress. They weren't even jealous. As far as she could tell, if they felt anything it was a weird sort of pride in her, as if she'd come back from some huge thing and adapted in ways that they didn't think possible. Like she had a choice, other than melting down and fading away?

At the moment though several men, all in their early to mid-twenties were looking at her and then glancing at Peter, as if he was there to guard her. His Westmorland uniform did make him look a little bit official, if a bit like a cub-scout, given his age. He didn't smile at the men either, looking stern and like he was willing to defend her honor at need, if they dared step out of line. It was cute, but also seemed to actually work, since none of them went out of their way to approach her.

"Which just figures, doesn't it?" She spoke the words softly, but Peter nodded.

"Yes. If you knew what most of them were thinking you'd understand why I have to scare them away. It wouldn't be that bad if they didn't immediately jump to the bedroom in their minds, but it's the most common thought in the hallway right now. The second most common is that there's a paper due in several classes soon and the third is wondering if I'm going to blow them all to pieces." It was said without awareness that he'd done it at first, but he shook his brown haired head and gave her a grin. "High telepathy. I'm not used to being around this many people. I need to go in for training soon for it, but that's not going to start for another two years for me, since they want me to develop normally. You can't use the protocols on someone too young, if you want them to be adaptable as adults."

It made some sense, but the boy seemed puzzled suddenly, and stopped to stare at a woman that was looking at them. She was fairly young too, and not that great in appearance, being about average, but whatever she was thinking got Peter to blush after a few seconds, but he smiled at her and then walked away, not looking back. Gwen wondered what the situation was, but he just shook his head, not talking until they were in the door of Grainger's classroom.

"She was thinking that I was cute, that was all. It was a little more... Grown up than I'm used to." He blushed again, but Gwen nodded, getting the general idea. He was used to being around people that were a bit free sexually, but they didn't apply those rules to kids, and had good control over their thoughts most of the time. He wasn't used to the attention any more than she was. The big difference was that he knew exactly what the woman had been thinking.

Useful, if he was just a little older.

Grainger wasn't teaching his class that day, sitting off to the side, with seven tables set out in the front of the room with various displays on them. There looked to be three student projects' on each table, and they were grouped, similar things near one another. Rather than wait for things to be explained she decided to be just a little pushy and just walk to the right hand most table and start examining things.

On the table were a variety of glow globes, most of them small and portable. The smallest was about the size of a dime from back home, with well wrapped wires coming out of it to the crystal pack. It had a simple button to turn it on and off, but when she picked it up, it dangled and flopped around. It was the right basic idea though. After a few seconds she had an idea and asked if anyone had a straight pin.

A woman from further down walked over and pulled one from her dress sleeve.

"Will this do?" She smiled and handed the large thing, which was nearly four inches long, over to her. "More to the point, are you planning on stabbing Morrissey with it? I thought his light was pretty good myself, but I supposed if he must be punished, he must." It was said lightly and sounded both playful and a little bold of her. People chuckled politely enough.

The woman was dressed in simple clothing, all a light blue, but from head to foot, with black lace up boots sticking out the bottom. Not rich clothing, but definitely not working class either.

"I
am
probably going to be stabbing him, yes, but not on purpose. Morrissey? Front and center please?"

The man came from behind the table and Gwen managed to use the pin to attach the light from his jacket front. It worked, if a little awkwardly.

"Use a spring clamp or button attachment for it. That or place it in a tube with a reflector around the light, so people can easily hold it in their hand. Both are useful at night.
Very
nice work." She meant it, but the man looked stiff, as if she were insulting him or something. She couldn't work out why however.

She worked her way down the table, one by one. A few of the things just didn't work, and the people that made them knew it, looking embarrassed as she walked up. One of the young men was kind of attractive, and stood by his device, which was, clearly, a shower head. He looked down, not making eye contact, even as his little display was turned on. It was meant to clip over a regular faucet, and spread the force of the water well. It didn't even seem to be leaking.

"This looks perfect. Now, tell me... Why are you acting like it's going to get a bad mark?" She waited, making direct eye contact for a second as the man blushed furiously. He wasn't able to speak for some reason, so Doctor Professor Grainger cleared his throat, smiling from the chair he was in, well off to the left.

"A few of the graduate students pooled their funds to begin manufacturing their projects when they worked so well, but they didn't ask your permission first, as the co-creator of the devices. A bit of a scandal really. Good initiative however, don't you think?" As much as the boys in question seemed to be blushing and looking down, Grainger looked both amused and a bit proud.

Gwen smiled then herself.

"I agree. Good work. We'll need to get the rest of these going as well. I expect everyone to help one another?" It made sense to her. She could chip in a little for it too, if they wanted to consider her a partner. No one said anything about it, until she got to the end, the only female that had shown up, the one in blue that had lent her the pin.

She'd made rubber soled shoes. They were a
mess
, but had grooves cut in them to provide traction and were on boots that were handmade. That part wasn't bad, if not perfect. It had taken a lot of skill, it was clear and seemed to be a rough draft. Gwen nodded at them and bent them, showing that the flexibility was good, compared to leather that thick.

"You can pour the rubber into a mold and then trim the extra bits on the sides away. This is the right idea. It just needs to be refined a bit. Not horrible work. A little sloppy for sale to the average person, but good for proof of concept." This time the person in front of her smiled and flipped a single palm up.

"You're a bit hard, aren't you?" She said, not seeming as put out as the others around her had been.

Gwen stopped, not certain what the girl meant.

"Sorry? Hard? I'm not certain I take your meaning." She waited, which everyone else seemed to think was a mistake, at least from the way they looked away suddenly, as if they disapproved of what was being said.

"Oh, you know, we come in with little school projects and you're passing judgment on them like they were show ponies, not something made in our spare time for some extra credit. Normally we'd all have gotten pats on the back and our praises sung for this. You're acting like we all should have done better or something." There was no anger in what she said at least, it was just matter of fact, and honest.

After a few seconds Gwen nodded.

"
Exactly
!" She forced cheer into her voice then, which got everyone to look at her suddenly, as if it were strange. Everyone except Peter who gave her a nod, as if he knew what was coming next. "You're the students of
Doctor Professor Grainger
, not average people. I guess I did seem a little hard at that. You're up to the task though. So when I come back in two weeks, I expect everyone to have greatly improved things for me! Especially you men that are already gearing up to sell things. If you want me to help foot the bill, I expect exceptional products."

Then she turned to the woman in blue.

"Now, you and I need to talk." She smiled about it, but half the room winced, which probably meant she seemed too vicious or something.

The only one that smiled at all then was Grainger, who seemed highly amused.

The woman seemed to think that Gwen was about to do something very bad, probably for confronting her like she had, which had to be nearly as rude for this place as Gwen seeming a little rough on the students. She hadn't meant it that way, so didn't think it would be that big of a deal, but the others, except for Peter, all moved off. Only Grainger came over, still smiling.

"So, Miss Farris, are you going to extend an offer of employment to Miss Botstein here? I have to say, an
excellent
choice. She's a tad outspoken, but..." The man hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right phrase to use, so that he wouldn't insult the young lady he was speaking about.

Gwen just nodded, "
right
, I need someone that will be blunt with me if I start messing up too much. Half of what's slowed me down here is that I don't know what the rules are, and most of people have been waiting for me to conform to the social rules, very politely not mentioning things to me, so I never learn." She extended her right hand, to shake, hoping it wouldn't be too far out of place. "I'm from a different world, I don't know if you've heard about that?"

The woman in blue gave a single nod that still looked a little tight.

"I have... Regina Botstein. Radiatives, with a minor in magical theory." The grip was a bit weak, but then women didn't shake hands here as a rule. She'd tried though, which was a good sign.

It got Gwen to nod slightly and take a good look at the woman. She was older than Katherine was, about twenty-five or so, probably meaning that she was a graduate student, rather than anything else. A little too old to still be at the University, except that, Gwen realized, it would be hard for her to get a real job in her chosen fields in this world. Erin Debussey had done it, but the pattern here was still in the mold of girls going to school to mainly pick out and trap a good husband with high level prospects. That Regina hadn't done that probably meant she was either a good worker over all, or that she was a loudmouth that drove men away. Or both.

After all, her shoes had kind of sucked and then she got upset that she was called on it. That wasn't a brilliant sign, but Gwen could work with it. After all, she didn't mind standing and fighting with someone, but not having the needed information was becoming a pain in the rear.

 "Ten mets per week, for a 'Ladies Assistant' position, it also means tutoring me in magic. I don't know much at all. Other things as needed. Making sure I don't do all the wrong things and that sort of thing. I don't know how long it will last, but at least a few weeks. It might be off and on." Since she might end up doing anything at all really.

The woman looked at Grainger as if Gwen might just be insane, then gave a tiny, very hard grin. "I have full teaching credentials and will have a doctorate inside two years. Fifteen mets per week. Also, Tuesdays off. So that I can see to family obligations." She said it as if the idea of having time off like that was the big deal, but Gwen didn't care.

"Twelve mets per week, but you can use the lorrie and borrow my driver for your days off, at least if you schedule that in advance."

The girl stopped dead and after a few seconds looked around hard and whispered, leaning in close.

"It really isn't for family, I... have a
friend
." That got a glance over at one of the young men from earlier that hadn't done very well in trying to make a power gauge. It was a good start, but it could only tell if a crystal was starting to drain, rather than how much energy was left. Even that would be a boon to this world, giving people a bit of a heads up. He was decent looking, but not really cute, more of a solid average.

"Lucky you. Deal?" She held out her right hand, waiting.

"
Deal
."

Doctor Professor Grainger seemed like he couldn't have been more pleased by the turn of events, probably so that he could get rid of the woman, but that didn't matter to Gwen. She might just be perfect for the job. Even better, the girl, apparently, could handle
all
her initial training in magic, so there wouldn't be a need for a half dozen specific tutors.

It meant getting her moved over to Park Street in a few days, because almost no one did things fast here. They made the arrangements for that and then left, after chatting with Grainger for a few minutes.

"I'd love to have you and your wife over again soon. One of these days I'm even going to manage a party that isn't interrupted by a catastrophe or a bomb, I promise." She gave a little grin, trying to seem pleasant. It didn't seem to be working with everyone, since a few of the men were still glaring at her covertly. She wasn't supposed to notice it, but her right hand found the PC in her bag and pulled it out slowly, ready to bring it into play at need.

The heavy man smoothed his mustache and laughed a little.

"Don't worry, Miss Farris, they don't mean harm. I think, at least a few of them, expected that you'd fall instantly in love with them when you saw how brilliant they were, and your critique of the various works was... how did Miss Botstein put it? A bit hard? Brilliant too however. The students here tend to be a little protected. It can be a shock when they're first faced with the fact that the real world will require more of them. Perhaps we should make this a regular part of their courses?" There was a glint to his eye as he spoke, clearly loud enough for the men to hear what he said. Most of them turned away, except for the one with the tiny flashlight prototype. He just sighed and turned his hands up, the front of his jacket still shining away brightly.

Then he moved over to them, staying a good ten feet back.

"I have to admit, it was a bit of a shock, hearing what you said, but... I think I'll survive. So a version that has a sturdy clip as well as a handle?" He looked down at the thing then, considering.

"And waterproof. Don't forget the reflector too. It will really help."

Peter looked away like she was being rude, but the man nodded and then walked away without saying goodbye. At first she thought he might be angry at her, but he came back with a pad and pencil and took notes, getting every idea she had for the things.

After about ten minutes they left, Peter pulling her away by the arm, smiling as he did, making a point of glaring at a few of the men again, as if telling them to back off, even though no one had really been less than polite to her. Even if she was, apparently, a giant bitch. Who knew? It just made sense to her. When they got to the front, waiting for James to see them and pull the little white lorrie around, since he'd waited off to the side in the parking area, the Westmorland boy spoke, keeping his voice down.

"Lazy and soft. Next time we need to bring sticks so that we can beat them if they don't have better things, like you told them to. No wonder the others wanted one of us with you. These people will take years tutoring you. I won't." He seemed to be pretty satisfied with that idea too, but didn't actually make eye contact with her.

The trip home was boring again, with no one to talk to, but there was a bit of activity in the front of the house when they reached their destination. It seemed to be something being unloaded for some reason, from the back of a lorrie wagon. The kind that carried goods from airships to wherever they went. Gwen had loaded and unloaded dozens of them herself, so she knew what it was, but why it was there she didn't get. It seemed to be filled with casks of something or other. At first she wondered if it might be explosives, but no one would be
that
stupid, trying to take out Park Street that way.

No, if they were going to try that, they'd sneak something in and make certain they were well away from the place before they set it off.

The men working on it didn't look at her overly, except for one of them, who stared pretty openly for a bit. He had no hair and seemed like a linebacker from a football team. Or at least like what they'd look like at thirty, if they were on a television show. He also had a pierced ear and after a few seconds a baffled smile. It was enough that the man that was trying to hand him the next barrel let it bump against his chest pretty hard, making him grunt. That didn't take the grin off his face.

"Curly?" It would have seemed out of place, saying that, if it hadn't been her nickname on the Peregrine. "Long time no see girl!"

Gwen smiled back and walked over, knowing that she recognized him. She even knew from when, though she kind of forgot which ship he was from. Right until she said his name, then it came back.

"Givens. Finally come to show me that good time you talked about? A little cheeky, just showing up like this, but I guess I can't be too picky, you traveling all the time like you do. Or did they finally kick you off the Griffin?" She winked at him, which got the other men with him to go really still. The big bald man looked down and blushed, which was kind of cute and made him seem more like a little boy than a gay biker.

"You'd think, right? But no, kept me on and everything. Hardly scream at me anymore even. We're just filling in, since we've had some crew shortage problems at the airfield. People going off to join the air navy, since the attacks. I'd get you to help with this part, but you don't seem dressed for it. Delivery for Katherine Vernor. Overage that hasn't sold yet. Brandy." The man looked off at the lorrie she'd just gotten off of and shook his head. "If you want you and I can head out back and start in on one of these..." The funny thing was, even though he was clearly teasing, he also
wasn't
, in some way. James was walking over, a large billy club in his hand, which got passed to Peter who was glaring at the man as his friends all stepped back.

Gwen laughed.

"Hell no. Not if there are shortages of workers at the field. We need everyone sober for the duration. I'll be out tomorrow to help, first thing. Is the Peregrine in?" It was amazing how easily she fell back into the patter that she'd used with the men as a loader. Givens had always been the most flirtatious, but the men on the ship she'd been on had to deal with Groundling and Smitty if they got out of line, which was too high a bar to get over apparently. This guy just had to deal with whoever was in the area at the time. In this case Peter and James.

He nodded, going serious for a moment.

"We could use the help, actually. I think the Admiral has her out for a few days, but should be back by week's end. You can work doing this though, till she gets in, I bet. It doesn't pay as much, but it helps to keep things going. Can't make ship's portion if you have to wait for the load too long. Speaking of which, we need to get this signed for..." He turned and waved to a slightly older man. "Tiggs, got the board? This is Katherine Vernor, she can sign for it all. After she does an inventory."

The other men looked half panicked, but Givens just started moving barrels again and James helped, automatically getting Peter to try, which was nice of him, but he seemed to be a struggle. The casks weren't huge, about five gallons apiece and there were fifty of them, all just being set on the ground. There was a note from Admiral Welk, explaining that she should try to move them, or give them away as gifts, since they were high quality Europan Brandy, but hadn't sold too well for some reason. It was pawn them off on her, or keeping them himself and really, he had enough of them already. It was right there in the note. This was just her part of it, about five hundred mets worth.

At least Winslow had a team of sturdy men to help carry them in, which was still going to take a while. Longer than it did to unload the wagon by far, since they had to carry them further.

"James, do you drink?" Gwen didn't know, but she suspected that most people here did, especially the men.

"Yes, ma'am." There was a hesitancy to the words as if it might be frowned upon, but she just picked up one of the miniature barrels and then tilted her head at the rest.

"Tell the men at the driver's place that this is for evenings only, when they aren't working, but take each one a gift. How many is that? Five drivers?"

He went a little wide eyed and shook his head. "Six ma'am."

They got them into the back of the lorry together, Peter helping with that too.

"
You
can't drink right now, you're in training." The boy looked at her seriously, as if it were a real thing, but it was a point, hiring tutors and all that kind of made it real, plus she had her floating around practice to do, which was pretty cool, she had to admit, even if it was hard to do.

"Exactly. So, one to Mr. Vernor, if the Admiral hasn't already beaten me to it... Mr. Grimes, his solicitor, Ferdinand and Count Goebbels... Is this nice enough to give to them?" She addressed that to Winslow, since he actually knew about things like that. It was part of his job, along with being hard and in shape enough to repel small invasions. He also went everywhere armed, and had even before the whole terrorism thing.

"Ah... Yes ma'am, as a common gift. It would be a bit out of place if it were for a special occasion, but if you merely send it along with a note, it would be welcome, I imagine. Most proper too."

It was a pain in the rear trying to lug the things inside while wearing a dress, but Gwen did her part, making ten trips back to the storage area behind the main kitchen. It wasn't a part of the house she'd been into before, since the place was huge, but no one tried to stop her. After all, it was her booze. She arranged with Winslow to apportion the things around to all the needed people. Some for the Constabulary Detectives in town for instance, as well as the chief of the uniformed branch, even though she didn't know him personally. It just seemed polite. The professors at the University too. The ones she knew at any rate. She also had one sent over to their headmaster, since he liked to pretend to be a drunk and splashed some on as cologne each day. This way he could smell like a quality alcoholic.