The Mask of Omegon (Gwen Farris Book 6) (25 page)

As soon as they were gone, Gloria
turned to her.

“Get the back hatch sealed. Tom, go
with her, in case they come back. Everyone else get ready to move. Groundling,
talk to the Captain. It would be best if we could leave. Now.” She sounded
tense again.

Gwen got the basic idea. The
Europans weren’t in their own land, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have
friends nearby.

People ran, in response to that. It
took them a few minutes to get the giant rear hatches sealed. They were a lot
like heavy barn doors, that had wheels that needed to be turned to pull them
shut. The stout chains clanked as it happened, but they were well oiled,
because everything on the Peregrine was well cared for. Tom, who had a red
scuffmark on the side of his face, from tackling the evil Europan would be
candy thief, grimaced.

“That wasn’t good. We should
probably get out of here. They don’t belong, but Eng probably can’t afford to
fight them out of their ports yet. I think these came from Paris? They
mentioned something like that.” He grunted as they got the doors sealed and
locked up.

Gwen nodded.

“What did Gloria say to them?”

That one got a smile.

“That we weren’t going to allow
them to steal his candy
or
rape him. She was a bit clumsy on the
phrasing, but I
think
they got the point.”

“Yeah they did. I thought we were
going to have to take them with us, for a while. This will work better though.
No blood to clean up, for instance.” They had some tarps, if it had come up.
That would keep the blood off the deck, if they did it right. She had
experience with that kind of thing.

Whatever else was going on, they
were underway, not ten minutes later.
Just
as a group of fifty or so
crin bearing Europan red coats came running up. Firing at them, from the wash
of light that came off the weapons. That was a light blue, instead of the
sickly green she was used to seeing from Western weapons. She had to admit that
they were prettier than the last ones that she’d seen. Those
had
been
green and in Europan hands, so it wasn’t about different manufacturing styles
alone, most likely.

Groundling led them out onto the
deck, giving orders.

“They can’t hit us from here. Not
with wide spreads like they’re armed with. A bit of luck, that. We should fire
back or they’ll think that we’re going to put up with this kind of thing.
Everyone grab a crin.” Those came out of the walls, with everyone being handed
one of the things. Even her.
She
missed all the men on the ground, not
being a great shot at those distances, but not everyone did.

Despite what Groundling had said
about the weapons being used against them, which were something like shotguns,
she guessed, there were loud smacking sounds where the craft was being hit. No
damage seemed to be done, so there was at least that in their favor.
Interestingly, both Tomas and Meter were managing to hit people, one right
after the other. Gwen
finally
got one, she thought. The men ran shortly
after that, not injured enough to be dead, or even dying.

The distances made a big
difference. They were over half a mile away already, which was lucky,
apparently. There would be deaths involved if they’d still been in dock.
Probably theirs. After all, fifty soldiers were a lot to face at one time. Even
if they weren’t all that good with their weapons.

What Gwen found to be most
interesting was that another airship tried to chase them. It was about ten
miles away as they moved over the ocean. It seemed a bit over the top to her,
if she were going to be honest about it. On the great side, the thing was white
and red, in a stripped pattern. It reminded her of the candy that Darnell had.

“
Ooooh
! Right. Darnell,
share that stuff out? I want some of the maple fudge.” The man looked at the
sack, then nodded.

“Certainly. I… don’t suppose anyone
understands why I have it?” He looked at Groundling, who stared at her, getting
the basic idea.

She didn’t make him ask.

“I stole your papers and replaced
them with candy. I have to go and pay for all of that, as soon as we get back.
The files are currently with Adam Westmorland. Their leader, in case the name
doesn’t ring a bell. Just sitting on his desk, with a note saying he shouldn’t
read them. He won’t.” She didn’t ask what the things were about, since it wasn’t
her job to know that. She had enough secret data to be going on with, as far as
she was concerned. If they wanted her to know more, they could tell her.

Duke Morten smiled at her then,
clearly not meaning it.

“Not bad. Especially since it
wasn’t part of the plan. I don’t suppose we could get those back? They need to
be delivered to a different location.” There was a pause, then a glance at the
sack. “Save me a lime ball?”

Darnell looked into the thing
carefully. Then he grinned, like the clown Gwen had always known him to be.

“We can do that. This is a nice
spread.”

Gwen teletransported to Adam’s office,
picked up the files and had them back inside a minute. Those were handed over
to Groundling, since he was the one that knew where they needed to go. Then
Gwen was delivered her payment of light tan fudge.

“This stuff is the bomb.” No one
registered that one. Then, they knew that bombs were a thing, but
also
that this was delectable fudge, which was probably confusing. So instead of
dumping it all over the side, they just let her eat the single piece of candy
that she’d taken.

Darnell put a hand out toward
Tomas, his face seeming tired. He was still a young man, but there was more
stress living there, somehow. It showed in the lines around his eyes. Those
were deep now.

“Thanks for the help back there.
I’m Darnell Tombs. There was a bit of confusion, so…” He glanced around, then
did something Gwen wouldn’t have suspected him going for. He told the truth, if
without going into things too deeply. “I was sent to get something from Europa.
They took exception to it.”

“Tom Moore. I
noticed
that.
Those men seemed rather upset that you had their candy. And didn’t have their files.
What have you.” His words were dry and he seemed older than his years at the
moment. He was only twenty-two, but fit in with everyone else there.

They all did. Oddly enough, that
seemed to include her. Gwen Farris.

Alien woman.

Apparently, also a member of the
little group they had going on there. Whatever they were called. At least for
that day. At the moment they were fleeing though, the real action being done on
the bridge. It didn’t look like the other airship was closing with them very
quickly. That was hard to tell though.

“Say, what happens if they get
close to us? I mean,
before
I fly over and pop their balloon for them?”

Groundling gave her an incredibly
strange look then, followed by a smirk.

“That’s the crux of airship combat,
isn’t it? You try to go higher than the other ship, then hit their bag while
they can’t get at you. Most boats don’t carry a flying person that can do that
however. Can you get that high? It could be five thousand feet up. Maybe six?”

She could do it. It was no harder
to go up thousands of feet than one or two. Speed
was
harder, but her
top speed was about four or five
times
faster than an airship could go.
The trick would be going in so high that no one could hit her with a crin. It
would mean waiting until dark, most likely.

“I’ve been up to over ten thousand,
starting from the ground. That isn’t a problem. I can do that at night? If it’s
needed. I can also take the papers where they need to go, in case we don’t make
it?”

It made sense to her. So did not
telling her where that particular place was. If it were up to Gwen she would
have gotten Adam to take them to the right place, but Groundling wasn’t her.
No, currently, he was the man that would become King, if anything happened to
Ferdinand.

The guy glared at her a bit… except
that he
wasn’t
, she didn’t think. He was looking hard and thinking, but
not about to attack her or anything. That was just her reading into things,
because of her past. Groundling was doing something much different. Thinking
about how to best get the job done.

“General Alstop. He’s the commander
of the Embattled. I don’t know if you’ve met?”

The name was kind of familiar,
actually. She ran through a description of him.

“Middling thin, about this tall.” A
hand was held up for that one. “Short silver hair. Blue eyes… Um…” She could
see the face floating in front of her well enough, she realized. If it was the
right man. “
Really
interested in making fun of Consev’s shooting
ability?”

That got Groundling to laugh and
slap at his right leg.

“Oh. That’s him. The
very
man. You can get to him?” He started to pass the files over, but Gwen waved her
right hand at him.

“Let me check this first… One bit?”

There was a nod, so she closed her
eyes, focused on the face floating behind them and moved her information, the
data that made up her very being, to the sense of the other man. It was a skill
in and of itself. A thing that had been tortured into her, in the original
training. Finding her target, no matter how hard it might be to locate them.
Gwen needed a clue, but there was one this time. So she was with the man she
was visualizing not ten seconds later. Avoiding the pain that she feared would
be coming if she failed. That part was always there.

He yelled at her. Manfully
bellowing, if in fear.

“
Gah
!” Then, quickly enough,
he started to go for a weapon. From the look of what he was doing that was
going to be a PC. A power conduit. It took a certain amount of skill as well as
magical power, to even make one of the things work. That told her a lot about
who she was facing.

Gwen smiled and waved at him.

“General Alstop? I’m Gwen Farris.
We’ve met before?” She waited, in case the name was wrong. The man was in a
green uniform however, with enough shiny and colorful ribbons to be both
military
and
important.

“Miss Farris? This is
most
irregular. Are… you all right?” It was a slightly strange thing to ask, but he
didn’t start out by trying to grab her behind, which meant he had to go the
other direction, being very concerned for her. There were only so many things
that politeness allowed him to do in the moment. Plus, she wasn’t giving him a
lot of time to consider his responses. It was a bit rude of her, no doubt.

Looking around the room, clearly
his office, she noticed that on his desk, a
very
grand wooden thing,
there was a brass name plate. It said General Harold Alstop, which made for a
good point of confirmation.

It was possible that he could have
known she was coming, then set things up like that, but she really had to doubt
that it would be the case. That level of skill in precognition was as rare as
teletransport on the level she was using it.

“Stand by for Duke Morten? If this
area is secure?”

The man nodded, looking puzzled.

“It is. I can lock the door, or…”

She nodded, left, grabbed
Groundling, then returned, so fast that she ended up having to sit on the
ground, gasping for air. It was her least favorite part of using her new
skills. The heavy breathing portion of events. It hurt, almost as much as doing
heavy sprints did.

Both men seemed concerned by that
part, so she waved at them to do their thing. Groundling got it first, his face
a bit dark.

“We got the documents requested.
Right now we’re being pursued out of Eng. Miss Farris suggested that we get
them to you now, in case we don’t make it. We should be able to, but it
isn’t
the wrong idea, just to hedge the wager. I don’t know if we can go back from
here…” He looked at Gwen, who nodded, and made herself stand up.

“Yeah… Just a… Just a minute.” It
was hard enough that the man, who was rather solid around the middle, she’d
noticed, seemed to get the idea. They
weren’t
leaving their ship two
people down if it came to a fight. Especially since she was the one that could
fly over and take care of things.

The General glanced at the files,
then set them on his desk. It was tidy, nearly to the point of being bare.

“Very good. I was unaware that we
had access to
anyone
that could do that sort of thing. Miss Farris… The
name is familiar, but…” He looked at Duke Morten, as if he just didn’t get it.

Groundling glanced at the door.

“Special Service. Civilian side.
Temporarily working on the Peregrine to fill a crew gap. I’ll get you a number,
in case you need to beg her help. She’s the one that invented the dot-aimers?”

The man went wide eyed then. He
smiled in fact and brought his hands together happily.

“Ah! I
do
recall you then.
Amazing magic that. Wonderful. I will be in touch soon, if that’s acceptable? There
are some things… Well, I won’t speak of them now. No offense, Duke Morten.
Compartmentalization.” He glanced at Gwen, as if she might not understand the
word.