Friends and Enemies (Gwen Farris Book 5) (20 page)

"Nooo. I just had to pee, and Katherine suggested it. I had all the parts for it down already, I just needed to put it together. It's sort of obvious, isn't it? I can fly, and this is basically the same thing."

"I don't think it is, no. Not that I know of. Gwen, people go to school for
years
and never learn to do anything that dynamic. Even my family wouldn't have simply learned to do that sort of thing in a few moments. They'd need to be trained for it. Granted, you're a brilliant woman, but no one is that good. Almost no one."

Gwen frowned, and then waved to the loading bay.

"Okay. Um, I can do it. Maybe if I work out something else to try? So, you know, you can see that it's just my powers being used and not Katherine or someone else?"

There was a stern look then, as if she were being naughty, which was about to go over like a sack of wet cats, when Gwen started walking. She expected to be grabbed by the arm, and pulled back, but her buddy just followed along, not being all that friendly.

Hopefully this crap wasn't going to last too long.

It was already getting old, with all the lying and worrying.

"Um, right, let's see... Um, how about I make everyone
else
stronger? Really, I'll do part of the lifting for them, mentally. I've never done that before, but I think I can do it. The concept is just a variation of what I was just doing." It was harder than it sounded like, and took about half an hour to get set up correctly, but in the end Beth was able to lift about four hundred pounds of things and carry it all easily, controlling where it went, without Gwen having to do more than throw energy at the whole mess. It wasn't
that
difficult. It took some concentration though.

When that was settled, and she proved that she was just clever, and not being mind controlled, her friend smiled and shook her head.

"We should stop for now. You're to be resting that way. I shouldn't have let you do any of it, but I wasn't watching. So much for trying to read quietly in my room."

"Yep. That's
way
too lazy. I'll be good and carry things like a real girl. Come on. You're dressed well enough to help out."

That got a grunt, from Givens, and a few of the other men stared at Beth a bit more openly than they had her. Not too much so, since she was dressed like a Westmorland. That
was
about the same as announcing you were a bomb, after all. Plus, she was famous. Nearly as much as Gwen was now. It would be even more true when the book Gwen had written finally came out. It should have been more than enough to make Beth the important one, giving her pal more time in the press, but socialite body-theft victim played well with the masses, it seemed.

Plus, it was probably a bit like her asking that people acknowledge a black baseball player in her world, in the nineteen-twenties. It wasn't totally impossible, but calling a person a Westmorland was just about the same as saying the n-word back in the day. Common, normal, and still meant to demean and make a person feel less important.

Gwen though was perfect as far as the newsies were concerned. They'd go on about how none of what had happened was her fault, for hours. Which was true, even while they implied it was all about how the Westmorlands had rifted Worthington, the capital. Even though they fucking knew better.

Erin Debussey had kidnapped regular people that had some magical power, and brainwashed them into rifting. That was way more dangerous than having a few Westmorlands around ever would have been. If anyone ever learned that trick again, the world was well and truly fucked.

Not that the bigots had simply gone away. Not even after she'd personally told them all how the training worked. It was torture, and so close to evil that even some of the leadership of the hate movement had quit being assholes. Just pulled up stakes, told their people to stop being morons, and walked away. About half of them had done it. That left the other fifty percent. Luckily for her most of
them
were the dumb ones. They were truly loud though.

Then again, it had only been a few weeks since that had taken place. Even the people in the know had figured it would take decades for her to have a real impact. If she could. So far that seemed about right. It didn't help that the Westmorlands had been tortured into not speaking out on their own behalf. They
couldn't
do it. Just like they couldn't make up their own magical powers like she was doing. To her it wasn't all that hard, now that she had a base to work from, but in their worlds you
had
to be tortured into doing things. It was the only thing that worked.

It explained why they'd all missed that she'd be able to rift already.

They finished up, with everyone acting like she was being a bitch when they were done. They wanted to go eat, which
did
sound fun, but they needed to go over the merchandize first, to make certain everything was set up right and balanced. Givens looked away, clearly frustrated with her, but let her take the time to make sure it was all right. Worse, it really was, as far as she could tell. No one was all that happy with her then, even if they kept their lips closed.

"Wow. Well, I bet I'll make lots of friends when I insist that we check it again at least once a shift, right?"

An actual groan went up, and one of the men, who was young, and tired looking, like a basset hound having deep black circles on his pale face, cursed.

Called her names, instead of trying to wish her dead. That was fine, as far as she was concerned. It wasn't like she'd never been called names before. Most of the time she hadn't earned them though. This time she knew she kind of had.

"Fucking bitch. Who do you think you are? This isn't a passenger ship. I didn't sign up to work twice as hard, just to impress some girl that won't sleep with me anyway."

Rather than deck the man, which was tempting, she waved at him.

"I
know
. Still, if we can prevent loss, we should, right? What's the normal to-loss for The Falcon?"

Givens knew what she meant, off the top of his head, being an old hand, in a literal sense. They got a bonus if the loss ratio was low enough. It was a big enough part of what they made that it could add up, if they were careful.

"Bout two and a half percent. Pretty much like everyone else."

Gwen shrugged, and looked at him, locking eyes.

"The Peregrine runs a point zero three loss ratio. Yeah, I know, they're little, and have less to watch, but I bet we can drop that in half, if we try. That's a lot more money, um,
mets
for a boat this big, isn't it? One and a quarter percent divvied up between you all will add what, two hundred mets per body?"

That would be good pay, for a single trip that took less than a week. Even if they only made three runs a month, and she was certain they did more like five, it was a good way to end up rich for this world. If they could pull in even a thousand mets per month, all told, it would make them wealthy. She'd never thought about it, since in dollars that would have been just enough to live on back home. Here it was different. She'd taken fifty-odd people out to a nice dinner once, and it had only cost about twenty mets. They didn't even have tipping, so it meant even more than she'd been thinking.

They still groaned.

Probably because half of them were hung-over. Gwen hadn't gotten that, but Kate did, knowing the signs better, and tattling on them in order to explain the reason why they were all being so lazy. That would have never been allowed on The Peregrine. Then that was the flag ship, and as far as she could tell, reading between the lines, The Falcon was
kind
of the punishment vessel.

Luckily she was pissed off enough already, and slightly depressed, which meant that riding these guys for the entire trip wouldn't hurt her feelings in the slightest. Oh, they'd hate her, in the end, until they got their pay envelopes. Then it might change their minds.

She waited for Katherine to mock her, about thinking how she was going to
ride
all the men, but there was dead silence from inside.

Until she took over, her lips curling up.

"I can show you how to do it. If I get your percentage down to under one, you'll have to each give me half of your bonus for the next six months. For the value of the lessons. What do you say?"

There was muttering, and Givens laughed and looked at her like she was being silly.

"Ten percent, and only for trips we get that low. Otherwise it won't be worth it for the men."

Gwen spoke then, her voice shifting obviously enough that she nearly winced.

"That works. No fair slacking though. I'm not going to give you all my secrets for free." She wasn't exactly a con man, but she'd seen the movies. The trick here would be confidence, and seeming like she knew more than she did. "For now... Let's get that food, and set up the watch list. I'll do the first one, with Givens. Get ready to work, but know it will pay off." She sounded nearly chipper, which was totally fake. She felt like falling down. She was sore, from the unusual work, and angry at everything. Plus, she'd started out exhausted from her travels just to get to Lexington.

That one was so familiar that Gwen didn't think about it for a while. She'd lived a lot of her life a bit upset, so this wasn't new to her. People had been mean to her, and screwed her around, because she wasn't like them. The hard thing was that, for once, it wasn't really about people fearing or hating her for being ugly.

Beth had been pushed to betray her though, if in a silly way, and it hurt, and made her feel bad. Worse, the woman wouldn't have had a choice, Gwen knew.

So avoiding her for a bit might be a good plan. In all the world, the last she wanted to do was make Beth feel bad for things that were beyond her ability to control in the first place. The woman deserved to be treated like gold, not hit with a grumpy and moody her all the time.

Trying to keep up with the task that Kat had walked them into would be a good enough reason. Not that she knew why the other girl had done it. They didn't need the cash. If the woman planned to buy something, then she could just ask. Not that they needed much. A new toothbrush, some makeup. Nothing all that huge.

It was an excuse to keep working though, after the meal. She didn't eat much, and stayed with the loaders. Bethany did too, even though, she informed Gwen a bit blandly, they were
supposed
to dine with the Captain each evening.

She didn't seem upset to be with the men though, and smiled happily enough that it was probably a bit
too
much for proper company.

"We have that wager however, so I'll make the needed excuses with the Captain. It should be entertaining to see what Gwen can manage. She's most capable."

It wasn't much of a bet, being that she was going to get paid if she worked them into a place where they could get their loss ratio down enough. If they didn't, well, that was fine, too. It was something to do, and while she had brought a book or two with her, there was only so much reading she could do each day without her brain bogging down.

After the meal she just worked, being pawed by Givens enough that even she got that he sort of liked her. It was casual enough that she didn't hit him, figuring it all out in time, but she
did
give him an angry look after a bit.

"What the fuck? We're working. I know, I know, you think with your dick, but come on, work with me here."

"Um, sorry?" It wasn't an apology.

After a bit she worked out where the disconnect was. This place had never had a King Richard to name the member after.
If
that was the actual starting place of the term.

"Penis. You think with your member? I'm running out of things to call it. Stop for now, will you? I'm
not
having a good week. Things are tense. People acting funny and others trying to kill me. Sorry."

"Ah, this wouldn't be the first time I was given the brush off. Still, gotta try. Let's get the watch list made up first? I need to sit, not that I love paperwork. It does get my tush in a seat, which is better for my feet. They're killing me. I don't suppose you'd rub them for me?"

Gwen shook her head.

"You wouldn't like it if I did. I've never done anything like that. I've never done
anything
. I was different, back home, you know?" She didn't want to go over it all, but was a bit shocked when the man nodded.

"I got it from Red, off The Peregrine? Told me all about what was in the news that way. How you used to be a man? A soldier, wasn't it? Did special animals shows, due to your huge member? I got that right, don't I?" It came out so deadpanned that she nearly answered, denying the claims.

Catching herself at the last second she nodded.

"Smitty said that? It's almost right. I was a woman there, too, but horribly deformed. I couldn't get into something like the military, but I had to fight a lot, since people tried to hurt me, for being different. The police kind of looked the other way. Um, the constabulary, back home. I didn't do any pornography though. Trust me, no one would have wanted to see it. Not anyone that you'd want to eat dinner with." She stopped, and stared at the man, who was a bit shocked looking.

"What? I hadn't heard
that
. Weren't you just some housewife? Husband and kids?" The tone was nearly begging, as if he really wanted that to be the case.

"Nope. Basically a hermit. Didn't you ever wonder why I was so weird? I mean, you keep flirting with me, and I haven't even gone out with you. I
should
have, but I got put out of the loop for a while, and the next thing I knew I was engaged again."

She followed him to his office, which was about the size of a closet, but still had two chairs in it. Benches without backs, but close enough. He moved in to sit behind the tiny desk, then tapped the scratched wooden top.

His voice was a bit rougher for some reason, when he spoke.

"You have pornography in your world? I figured that kind of thing would just be us, here. Sick bunch of scum that we are, you understand."