Friends and Enemies (Gwen Farris Book 5) (19 page)

"Um. In about half an hour? We have
six
coming then, back to back. I didn't know we had a girl loader on this run. Are you new?"

Gwen was about to explain, when she heard a pirate speaking from behind her. It was like she was suddenly in a movie, and was about to be offered a flagon of rum. The guy even had a peg leg, on the right. It made him memorable, if nothing else.

"This'n be der charging lass. Kept us up in the air last winter, by her lonesome as like, for weeks, when the Chargin Union crapped out on us again. She says she's a'loadin this trip, then she
is
. Off The Peregrine, I hear, so do what she says. Curly be her name. Better than you lot deserve, so pay attention to what she tells ya."

It was a load of crap, more or less, and clearly so, but the man was the Captain, so the other man just nodded about it.

"Yes, sir. I'm Ponder, ma'am. Um... We have some coffee?"

She nodded, since that was the way things got done as far as loading went. Everyone sucked down as much of the heavy and dark brew as they could, and worked until things stopped coming. Going to the bathroom was a trick, which took turn taking and timing, but if she paid attention, it would work well enough.

Everyone was lashing things down, that being about half the job, while they waited for the next set of goods to get there. Gwen had done that kind of thing before, and it was clear, after a bit that she was at about the same level that these men were already, as far as skills went that way. It wasn't that she was good though. They were just a bunch of lazy, slow and sloppy idiots. So it matched up.

She felt her anger rising, which didn't make a lot of sense, given that there was no real connection between her and the Vernors, other than her living in their daughter's body.

Still, she started to make suggestions, and was surprised when people just fell in line. Loaders weren't exactly the least sexist people in the world, and this place tended to think of women as half helpless most of the time.

She knew that one for a fact, when one of them walked over and slapped her on the ass.

She spun, ready to do battle, when Katherine stopped her.

'Wait. I know this man. Or more to the point
you
do. Isn't he your boyfriend? Givens?'

The shock wasn't that the man was there, even though he'd been on a different boat when they'd met the first time. He was bald, having a shaved head, clean and shiny, and looked a bit like an aging football player from a television show.

"Curly girl! I didn't think to see you slumming it with us bottom types. How did you get assigned here? Kick the owner in the nuts? Again, I mean?" There was a sense of goofy play to his words that was hard for her to recognize.

At least when it was directed at her.

'He's is a flirt, isn't he? Fresh, too. Good to know. I can spend my hour a day with him then, while we travel?'
Kat was teasing, too, Gwen thought. That, or being snotty. It was harder to tell that one, especially from the inside.

She shook her head, remembering that while most people on the airship might have missed who she was, Givens had been over to the Vernors for a meal, along with the crew of The Peregrine, worked in as Gloria the Engineer's date.

"No, I'm just catching a free ride, and figured I should be useful while I do it. I'm headed down south to help investigate a murder."

"Oh?" The man rubbed his right ear, which had a small golden hoop ring through it. It made him look a bit like Mr. Clean from the old commercials. That wasn't a thing here, so it was just a look, rather than a joke. Raising his voice he smiled and patted her on the butt again. What he didn't do was let his hand linger too long there. "Well, that's why you get the big bucks. I know it shocked the hell out of me when I learned you were Gwen Farris. Made sense though, when I hear about you destroying that man that attacked you in the hangar. Not one man in twenty could have done that, I hear."

That had been Frank Bishop, who'd been the head of the Chargers Union for the area, before he'd let his ego get him into a fight with a girl. One that had
just
happened to be the daughter of Robert Vernor, as far as the world had known then. She'd left him with broken arms and legs.

As it turned out she probably
should
have killed him, but her conscience had gotten the better of her.

Stupid morals, always getting in her way like that. It had been an issue, in the end. The man had come back later with a crin, to try and kill her. Erin Debussey had put him up to it, but it would have happened eventually, regardless. That was just the kind of little man he was. To his mind she'd shown him up, and instead of trying to improve himself, he'd gone the other direction and wanted to kill her to save face. It hadn't worked, and now he was dead.

"Yeah. I'm just coming off some training with the Westmorlands. Learning magic stuff, so I need to rest my brain. I was also stabbed last week. Assassins. They're dead, and weren't after me anyway, so it shouldn't affect your crew here. Speaking of which, is this a punishment for you, or have you finally gotten your act together enough that they promoted you?" It
was
possible. He was a flirty goofball, and a bit low on discipline, but not horrible at his job, as far as she could tell.

"Loading boss for The Falcon now, thank you very much! If I just get ten, fifteen, promotions I'd be nearly in your game, as far as getting that date, don't you think?" The look he gave was still playful, and they had an audience, which she realized was the real point of it all. He was informing his team that she was someone not to screw around with. Probably so they wouldn't all try to sleep with her. The intelligent men would get it.

Now she just had to worry about the stupid ones, and Givens himself.

"Something like that.
If
you can step up your lines a bit. My fiancée might not like that though. Duke Aubrey? You can contact him and ask though."

There was a low whistle, and a head shake.

"Damn Curly! I'd heard, but forgotten that, to tell the truth. Blinded by your beauty. Good you reminded me before I got so fresh you had to have me killed for it. More like,
he'd
do it. Don't want to mess with that kind of power, if I can help it. Not even for a prize like you. So, show us how they do it on The Peregrine?"

She did, which was mainly the same as what they were already doing, just with a lot more double checking of the lines, and tie downs. Even when they caught something being a little too loose, or not even connected to the in-deck tie down ring in one case, people acted like she was just being bossy. Which she
was
, so Gwen let the anger go, or tried to.

Then, when the wagons started coming to the back of the vast open space, most pulled by lorrie carts, she just worked, since they knew how to do their jobs. She
kept
getting looks, at first, but after the first two loads, no one seemed to care anymore.

Honestly she figured it was all about her being a bitch and telling them how to do their jobs, but Katherine laughed in her head after a while.

'You are joking, aren't you Miss Farris?'

Thinking back, since being the crazy woman that talked to herself and was also from a different world wasn't happening that day, she tried to ask what the fuck the other woman was talking about.

'You're Gwen Farris. In
my
lovely and tender flesh. Everyone knows who you are now. These men aren't even checking out your hindquarters yet, when you aren't looking. That isn't normal you know. Men are pigs that way. Most women, too, but you didn't hear it from me. Their thoughts are... Let me see...'
Silence came then, for about five minutes, so Gwen got back to work, trying not to worry about things.

When she suddenly started speaking again, still silently, in her head, the words were shocking.

'It isn't too bad. Two of the men are wondering if you're as much of a slut as they hear about, and one of them is thinking about spying on us in the showers later, if he can. The rest of them are just annoyed, like you figured already. You
are
being a bit of a pain. It's not like we're being paid for this. Leave that part to me.'

They were though, after a fashion. The Vernors gave her funds every month, so it made sense for her to pitch in and earn it when she could.

Katherine started cackling in her mind, only stopping when Gwen started to think about ending it by jumping over the side, when they got up really high later. She was vivid enough about it that the girl squeaked.

'No, thank you. I'll be pleasant. It's just, you don't have to work for
those
mets. It's blood lucre, for the life I stole from you. Truly, I was figuring that you'd simply take it all from them, and I could recover it by taking over later. It didn't turn out that way, but you could have so much more than you do. No one in the whole world would blame you, or even think it odd.'

That one was a known thing to Gwen.

The Vernors had told her that they'd do that. Give her everything they had, without a single reservation. It had been mentioned on about ten different occasions. It was a real enough thing that she was almost certain the paperwork had been started for it, at least twice. The thing there was that
she
couldn't run a multi-kingdom shipping operation. Doing less than that would end up harming the world's economy, so even if she'd been greedy, it wouldn't have been a good idea.

Without making a big deal of it, she decided to remind Kat that
she
couldn't run that kind of thing either. Not without a lot of help.

The work wore on, and the coffee was slurped down by the stein, which meant she needed to take a break after two hours. That didn't happen though, since they had two wagons lined up, which needed to be cleared, which meant taking everything in, one barrel or sack at a time. For her. The men all carried two at a go, and in one case for the biggest man, three, things at once. It was a gender thing, but bothered her. Even as everyone else ignored her light loads.

She was just a girl after all, and no matter how fit she was, that meant she was weak, to their minds. Plus, she
really
needed to pee, and it was all taking too long.

It was Katherine that suggested how to fix that however.

'Why not use magic? Like you told Bethie, you don't have the Westmorland conditioning, which means you can do more than someone like her could. You can already fly, so use the same radiative field to lift the goods? It will need to be in a different place, the radiative portion being outside of your body, but you learned to teletransport things at a distance, and move objects that way. I suppose you could do that, and move the wagons loads instantly, but it would be showing everyone up too much. If you just make it float, in your hands, that will appear more normal.'

"You mean you're so bored you're wasting time thinking about ways for me to use my powers?" She spoke the words, but no one was listening to her. Thankfully.

Kat didn't answer, but Gwen could feel her pushing for it, as if it were pressing.

"Wait, can you feel that I need the restroom?" If so, that was weird.

'Yes! Now, let's hurry it along. That, or just walk away and go now. I can't take this much longer.'

It was tempting to make her wait, but Gwen took pity, mainly thanks to the fact that her bladder was trying to rupture, or would be soon. Growling a little bit, she worked the basic idea out. It really wasn't that hard, given what she could already do. The idea of placing the instructions outside of herself was simpler now, thanks to the recent practice, and by mentally changing the color of the mental control unit she used, from black to red, there was no chance of confusion.

At first she was planning to be a bit more circumspect about it all, like Kate had mentioned, but then her need to leave the room fast grew too strong. She hurried to the last wagon in line, and pointed with her left hand, drawing with a white light in her head she traced out the half of the sacks she wanted to try and take at once. It was too heavy, if she were flying, being about a thousand pounds or more in one trip, but it was enough to get her free faster, so she did it. Pumping power into it as hard as she could, Gwen pushed the button under her right finger. The mental one, which very slowly caused the bags to lift up. Everyone else stopped, to watch her trick.

She didn't care at the moment.

Instead of taking it in her hands, which really could have looked like she was carrying it, she just walked, at a normal pace. When she got into the main hold, the wooden floor dingy and not at all polished, Givens stared for a bit, and then pointed to an empty spot.

"Light it down there. We can stack for you. How many trips like this can you make an hour?" There was hand waving, but Gwen shrugged.

"I don't know, but it will be
more
if I can use the facilities now? I don't want to be that annoying girl, but otherwise I'm going to make a mess of your floors."

Givens nodded, and waved toward the back, where a rather stern looking Westmorland stood, watching her. Not helping. It didn't matter, since Gwen had restroom oriented things to do, so she rushed past. The hallways on The Falcon were big enough to walk past without brushing by, but she
did
call out.

"I know, I should rest. I feel fine though, so far. Um, I need to pee. Bad. Sorry."

It took a few minutes, and after she washed her hands, she came out, moving right into a Bethany ambush.

"What was that? I don't recall you learning that one. Is it from when you were taken over? Is it a problem now?" She was concerned again, which didn't make a lot of sense.

She tried to think through it all. She'd been brainwashed into learning how to fly and use force blasts by a Healer at one point. It had been done to help her out, even though the man had set her up to come save the world in the first place. The problem was that she hadn't really been trained to do those things. Not in the real world. Her skills that way had been refined, but she'd skipped out on years of practice.