Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel (27 page)

"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.

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.

These
men all had that too, but flowed from place to place. Like the Kung-fu
practitioners she knew, and less like the Karate men. It was a difference of
style, but it influenced mindset, over time. These were people that thought
about flowing around things, rather than confronting with force, but also had
built themselves up to a tremendous level.

That
there would be this many of them on one train was telling. At least one of them
had been on for all the killings too. No one with magic would spend that much
time making themselves into musclemen though. It wasn't what was considered
sexy here, for men even. No, these would be low magic users that were
compensating. That or they had incredibly tiny penises. Since they didn't have
porn here, that she knew of, most of the men probably didn't really let that
concern them. So it would almost certainly be the magic thing.

It
also probably meant that they were in on the whole thing too. There to manage
things, when the magic stopped?

That
was going to be something to keep in mind then. She knew how to fight, and was
in shape, true, but she was still a woman. In raw power, she wouldn't be able
to compete with these guys at all. If it came to that she needed to be better
armed than they were. That meant having blades around, since the rest of what
she had was going to stop working, she was willing to bet. She even had a rough
idea where that would be taking place.

It
was tempting to just grab Beth and Clara, and get them out of there. They were
the ones that would be sacrificed, she didn't doubt.

That
just made sense. Why would dull, regular looking Clara be brought along? Bought
out for a lot of mets, to a train where women kept dying? Before it had seemed
odd, but now she got it. Clara was the designated sacrificial lamb.

Beth
and her would just be there to sweeten the deal.

That
meant that Sally was in on it too.
If
she was right, which she thought
was the case, but couldn't tell, since magic was too busy surging all over the
place. It happened fast, but it was getting stronger. The Telestator had barely
worked at all for instance, and sounded rough and like the connection was bad.
Like a horrible cell phone commercial. The train ran, but moved slowly, at
about ten miles per hour.

No
one spoke of it, which was also pretty telling.

The
only good thing was that Gwen could tell where they were going, and even
roughly when they'd get there. She marked it out on the map, and wrote a note
on it, next to the little pencil x that was put there. When she handed it to
her friend, who was very tense, and edgy, she did so along with a rubber, so
that it could all be erased.

That
got Bethany to nod. It was done once, and almost as if considering not doing
it, she showed Cordell first, before making it all vanish. Gwen wouldn't have,
but she wasn't engaged to the man either.

He
looked worried, but Gwen didn't care. They all should be, about then. In three
days they'd be in a place devoid of working magic, and then the killing would
start, along with chanting and who knew what else. That meant they'd die, most
likely.

She
sighed, and worked through what to do. It was going to be harder than she'd
thought, since she knew who'd done it, and all that. She thought so at least.
The really hard part was waiting however, and making certain that she was ready
for what would be coming. Killers weren't people to play with. Not casually at
least.

That
night, she bought everyone dinner, paying far more than she had to, for it all.
She'd ordered a cake, to help celebrate her friend's engagement. That had taken
nearly two days to have ready, since the kitchen on the train had to get more
flour for it. It was a huge thing, considering they only had about a dozen
people to eat it, including the crew. That part, adding them into the
"celebration" was part of her plan. She was all egalitarian that way,
after all.

Then,
just before they were going to sit down for the meal, she went to the front of
the vehicle and waved at the engineer.

"Hello!
I was wondering if you'd mind stopping the train for a bit?" She looked
around, not seeing any handles or levers, just a pad that had about twenty
little silver buttons on it. "Special Service matters. Nothing dire. We
have a cake for my friend and I don't want it to fall. I was told it's
delicate? So, I'm pulling rank. It will only be about an hour or so,
tops?" She let herself seem hopeful, but the man just looked at her, like
she was insane. That or stupid, but Gwen was going to give him the benefit of
the doubt, since she liked to think that she did the first one better than the
second.

"A
cake
? We're barely making forward progress as it is. I doubt that we'll jar
the thing at all."

She
had a choice to make then. Well, three, actually. The first was to beg. She
hated the idea, and doubted she'd do it right. She could also bully the man,
which would leave a bad taste in her mouth. There had been a lot of bullying in
her life and when it had been her turn to do it, Gwen had always felt really
bad later. She tried door number three instead, pulling fifty mets out and
handing them to the man. It was enough to outright
buy
a person after
all.

"My
friend deserves a nice evening, and I want that to happen. That means a stable
platform for her meal, and a cake that's light as a cloud. I'll tell everyone I
ordered you to do it, so you can't get in trouble. Now, please?" She
needed him to do it, since she doubted she'd be able to figure it out in time.
That was, after knocking him out, she didn't think that hitting buttons at
random was going to really work. Nothing was marked, on the little control pad,
after all.

The
man looked at what was in his hand and then started tapping on the little pad
of nubs. Happily, it seemed. She couldn't tell what he was doing at all, but
they stopped.

"An
hour
though, no longer. And you tell everyone that it was your
doing?"

"I'll
make sure they all know. Thank you! You're the best engineer ever." Her
voice was a little funny, and she noticed that the world was at a distance from
her. She wasn't the one speaking. Gwen hadn't been at all.

Katherine
was. She got ready to fight, only to find that she was actually still in
control, except for her mouth. Gwen walked away quickly, back toward the dining
car, wondering how she'd beat the girl in her head in time. It also occurred to
her that she might secretly be in on the plan, but there was a strong feeling
of exasperation at that thought.

"You're
welcome
. Don't get me killed. I want my body back, someday." Then the
girl whose body she was in went silent. Gwen was about to be mad, and make some
threats, but the bribery thing had
worked
, and wasn't something she
would have thought of at all, on her own. Who did things like that? Rich,
mostly spoiled heiresses. So basically Katherine Vernor?

She
made her way back to the dining car, looking at the cake on the way through the
kitchen, calling out to the chef, who was a slightly older woman.

"We'll
be stopped for an hour, so present the cake during that time? We can dish it up
on the move, but I don't want your hard work spoiled." She smiled and
pretended that it was a real thing, only to find the woman, who was rather
thin, but matronly, agreeing with her.

"Finally,
someone with sense. I figured that I'd just go and dump half of it on the happy
couple, but we can do this too. Should we do it before the meal? A bit strange,
but given the time window..."

Gwen
clapped a few times, happily. "That would be
perfect
. Yes, bring
the cake, then I have a little announcement.
Then
we can have dinner and
be back underway before anyone knows it. Give me a minute to get to my
seat?"

The
plan would have everyone out to help with the cake, or at least within ear
shot. Except the man that actually ran the train. As far as she could tell,
he
wasn't really in on anything, so that was fine. She settled carefully, wearing
her uniform still. So was Beth, but almost everyone else had dressed up for the
event. Clara was in her best dress, and so was Sally. It made it seem nearly
like a real party.

The
cake came out looking like a cross between a wedding cake and a cloud. It was
lovely, and had shaved and sweetened coconut all over the outside. It took two
of the large men to carry the thing, that being Sam and the new power lifting
man, and was guided by the cook, who had put on a fresh white smock for the
presentation. The other men lingered in the door, smiling.

Professionally,
as if they were
really
all there just to deliver a cake and well wish
the happy couple. It was charming in a way, and better service than about half
the men had delivered so far on the trip. That part was telling too. All the
good
workers seemed to be the ones in with the plan. It was a shame, since she really
wanted to arrest the creepy waiter that had been cheating her the whole time.

Instead
she clapped, and Martin stood, then offered his right hand to Bethany.

"This
is lovely! I don't know that I'd have expected it just for getting engaged, but
thank you all." Then he sat, since Beth wanted her hand back. Under the
table she was clearly getting her PC out and ready. Gwen wasn't going to bother
with her own, having something else in mind, if the magic was working enough.
If not, she had three knives on her. That would be intense, and probably fail,
if the bad guys were armed at all.