Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel (11 page)

Flying
was cool, but that was worth learning too.

But,
as she'd just realized, these people, the ones in this new world, just didn't
move very fast at all. They drove in slow lorries, flew in slower airships and
most people never moved faster than about twenty miles an hour in their life,
unless they fell off of something high.

She,
however, had once owned a
car
, and knew how to apply the gas pedal. In a
very innate way, she, more than anyone in the entire Western Kingdom, knew what
fast really meant. She just hadn't thought about it before, since that was a
ground vehicle. It still went fast didn't it? That was the real point, she thought.

"Go!"
She called out to the driver, then waited for him to situate himself, and
release the brake, which was a heavy wooden piece.

Then
she imagined that pedal and put it
all
the way down.

It
hurt. A whole lot more than she'd ever felt when trying to make something
magical happen. Normally, if she was really pushing things there was a sense of
burning and aching inside her head, near the back and the very front of her
brain, at the same time. Now however, the whole shebang lit up like a Christmas
tree. One that just happened to be on fire for some reason.

It
was nearly enough to cause her to drop from the air, blinded as she was by the
tears that were streaming down her face. That wasn't from the pain, since there
hadn't been enough time for a response like that yet. It was the wind against
her eyeballs that did it. Gwen slowly imagined letting up on the pedal, and
pulled the mental control joystick back. There was no way to tell where she was
yet, but it wasn't too far off, since she heard a familiar voice coming from
below her as she allowed herself to slowly drift down. Like a snowflake that knew
a warm and certain death waited for it once it touched down.

Bethany
seemed to get part of her problem at least.

"This
way, back toward me. You're over the house right now. A little further... And
down." There was an amused quality to her words, until Gwen landed,
touching soft Westmorland arms before her feet hit the lawn. That was good,
since it gave her something to judge things on. The world was still just a
blurry mess, though it was already clearing.

Beth
actually giggled.

"You
really wanted that scone with jam, didn't you? I think it can be arranged. I'll
ask Charles to see to it." Then she was gone, leaving her friend to wipe
at her face for a few minutes alone.

She
got her scone however. The jam too. Both on a tiny silver tray, which was
presented by Winslow himself, as if it were a reward for winning the race. The
man stood there, ready to take the whole thing back, even as she broke the
scone in half and gave part to her friend. Sharing. It was a thing here too,
and Beth didn't argue about the idea. She ate hers plain though, not slathering
on jam like Gwen did.

After
they finished and James was pulling in at what was a breakneck speed for a Lorrie,
going until he'd reached the goal, even if the race was over, Beth finally
spoke about what had happened.

"That
was a good deal faster than I expected. Very good. Normally we'd have you do
that again, several times, so you could remember how you managed it, but we
don't have time right now."

It
was a good idea, but Gwen didn't love it at all.

"It
hurts. A lot. I hate to say it, but I'm probably going to have to do more of
that awful negative reinforcement training to force myself into the top speeds
again. That and get some goggles. I could breathe, barely, but the wind just
ripped at my eyes. I won't lose how to do it however. It's just making myself
perform that's going to be rough." It was too. There had been too much
pain lately.

At
this rate she'd end up with no quality of life at all.

Beth
flipped her palms up.

"Well,
if you can manage it, you should train the ability. Even going half that speed
will make you faster than almost anything we have however. We should start you
on Teletransport soon."

Those
words came as a surprise to her. She'd known that it was possible to do, since
Darren Westmorland had been learning how when he'd been pushed too hard or
something and ended up trading places with Billy. Hopefully he was safe and
snug somewhere in her world, making a living as a Wal-Mart employee or in a
similar capacity. Billy had kind of been the lucky one there, since everyone
had simply thought he was a bit loopy and broken at first, so had found a job
for him in data acquisition. Darren had been dumped into a totally new world
without any help at all. Billy was on the run from the law too, at the time,
and they were identical.

It
really hadn't been anything that she'd thought of before at all. It seemed like
a handy skill to have. Then she wouldn't have to keep borrowing preprogrammed
spheres for it.

"Cool.
Not this moment however, please. My head is killing me. I think I need one of
those magical rest breaks that Pete was talking about. If I didn't just do some
damage to the inside of my head just now, then I'm the new god of magic and you
should all bow down before me." There was no weight to the words, and for
a second she wondered if Beth would be insulted by them.

She
wasn't. The Westmorlands weren't allowed to be religious. That would have
potentially taken power away from their commanders, which wasn't allowable.

Instead
she nodded.

"Rest
is very likely in order. We don't have to do everything in a single day, or
even a single week. We have, oh, whole
months
to see to things." It
was very dry and her face didn't give any indication that she was joking at
all, until a small flash of a smile came, ten seconds later.

Thinking
about it, Gwen nodded.

"Right,
well, that and a force field and I'd be set, combat wise, wouldn't I?"

Then
she had to explain what a force field was to the woman, who simply shook her
head softly.

"Shields
like that have been tried, but they only work in the roughest sense. You can
push physical objects away, but not magical ones. Most of our weapons are in
the latter grouping too, so the idea was shelved decades ago, as not practical."

James,
dressed in his formal attire, as if they weren't just hitting a train station
early in the morning, but were going to be parading around a group of nobles
later, took and secured Beth's gear for her, tying it to the top of the Lorrie.
That meant they needed to get inside so they could leave. It was a large step
up, but they were both light and fit enough not to really need help with it. If
they'd been in a dress, instead of uniform, James would have hopped up on the
runner board and helped them, even if it meant being late.

As
it was they were going not two minutes later, which was speedy for this place.
Probably the last quick service they were going to see for a while too. She'd
miss James.

It
was a strange thought, and not really personal just to him. She was going to
miss everyone at Park Street. For the first time in her life there were
actually people that she wanted to be around enough that she was going to feel
a loss when she left.

How
interesting.

For
the moment though, she rode in silence, trying to recover from the mistake that
putting the pedal
all
the way down had turned out to be. She had no clue
how fast she'd been going really, but given the distance and the time it took,
she was willing to bet it was about eighty miles per hour. Now she was kind of
regretting it. The night before hadn't helped either and she was having to
fight the desire to sleep. Her eyes kept trying to close on their own and her
head bobbed in a way that had to make her look good. People on the train would
probably laugh at her behind their hands. That or look away in embarrassment.

Using
magic took energy though, and she was just nearly out, for the time being. Some
rest would help, she knew. Not that it was going to be coming anytime soon.
When she looked up, Beth was sitting upright, with her own eyes closed,
probably working on something or other. At least she wasn't snoring at all yet.
Gwen decided to do the same, which meant waking up with her buddy gently
shaking her arm.

"We're
at the station."

What
Gwen felt like saying was "
gah
! Tentacle monsters have me!"
since that was what the hand felt like to her at first, gentle or not, but she
went with a much more subdued statement.

"Ah."
She didn't claim to be awake or anything, since she wasn't totally positive she
really was yet, but she straightened and got out of the Lorrie, patting the
seat once, as if to reward it for its good work. Then she managed to actually
speak to James like a real human being, and not a half dead zombie would have.

"Thank
you, James. We'll try to call ahead to let you know that we're coming on the
return trip. Send my love to Ella." That was his wife. She was a sweet, if
slightly run down woman. Tired from caring for her three kids all the time.
They were little. Exhaustingly so, it seemed.

James
smiled, a huge and genuine thing.

"I
will, Miss. She wanted me to ask after you and Miss Westmorland as well. I
think she's planning a bit of a party soon. This week? I can't say that I'm all
that certain we should be inviting the Vernors over for supper, but it seems to
be happening anyway."

Gwen
knew this one. She'd heard the answer on Agatha's Telesar program once.

"It's
very
proper however, since they had you and Ella over. It also makes
good business sense, for both of you. Having wealthy friends can't hurt, as far
as introductions or ideas that way. The other way around has to be true too.
You hear a lot of things, and see the going-ons in the city, in a way that most
people never really do. In Robert Vernor's world, knowledge is power and you're
a more powerful person than you probably know."

She
blinked, and then slapped the side of her head with her left hand, it hurt, but
she was also signaling Beth to read her mind. She calmly thought the one word,
without bothering to really focus on it, just repeating it several times.

Prescience.

She
had the feeling that her words were a lot more meaningful than the simple
confidence booster that she'd intended at first. That meant Beth did no more
than smile when she said the rest of what wanted to come out.

"In
fact, I'll stake you, up to twenty thousand Mets, on any business you and Ella
want to start. Just don't make it a restaurant. Everyone always thinks they'll
make a good living that way, but it's rare to really do it. That will give you
something to work with. We can go higher than that, if you need, but try to
start at something under that, just as a start. Oh! Get with Groundling on the
Peregrine, and see if he has any ideas where to invest, or what people need.
He's been collecting ideas for a long time, I think." Then, she yawned and
held her hands up to James, to get her pack and hanging bag.

The
man looked away, and seemed a bit still, but didn't tell her she was being a
fool with her money. It was a good idea, after all. Beth patted her shoulder,
for some unknown reason, but she managed to get her things without dropping
them.

Then
she wanted to shake herself. Her bags were filled with weapons, and she'd let
them out of arms reach. That couldn't be allowed to happen after this. That
she'd forgotten already was bad. She was armed at least, if lightly. Well, she
could also fire off force blasts too, in a pinch. At least normally. Right now
she doubted that she could even recharge a tiny crystal pack, which meant she'd
need to have an already charged weapon ready to go. A Crin, and a knife. Her
power conduit was probably useless at the moment.

Except
as a metal bludgeon the size of a pack of playing cards. It was a thing to keep
in mind.

The
station, when she turned, slipping her pack on to her back awkwardly, was
different than she'd expected. Almost everything here was done in an old
fashioned, but fairly refined manner, at least of the things that she'd seen.
The fact was that she hadn't seen a lot of normal people things at all, she
realized. When she'd gone shopping for instance, James had always taken her.

The
man was a driver for one of the wealthiest families in the Kingdom, so could
she blame him for taking her to the fine stores, instead of where, say, his own
wife shopped? The closest thing that she'd really noticed not being highly
refined had been the offices of a rock quarry, which just made sense, given the
work they did, and the Constabulary station in town.

Now
she had this to add to it.

The
railway station was technically in Westington, one town over from where they'd
started. If Gwen had things right, and really she had no reason to think she
actually did, other than some rough terrain features, this would have been
where the movie theater was in Westwood. In her world at least. For some reason
she'd imagined herself much further away from where she started, at least in
physical space, than this. Halfway across the country at least, not ten miles.

It
was a rundown thing too, with actual litter on the ground in places. True,
those were things like banana peels and tins, rather than plastic wraps for candies
or things bought from machines, but there it was, all over the ground. Worse,
she could see that there were refuse bins right there. Not even feet from where
people had just dumped their trash.

It
just went to prove her first rule. Most people were assholes, if they thought
they could get away with it.

James
didn't say much, but waved to them as he left, since, from that point onward,
they were officially on duty. Beth had to actually send him on his way, so that
he didn't just sit there for hours waiting for their train to come. An hour, if
she had the timing down. Well, if the train people weren't late.