Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel Read online

  She tapped on the door to her own room, to give Clara some time to wake up, but entered using her key anyway. It was her room and the woman was just sleeping, so it wouldn't be like she was interrupting her doing something awkward. Gwen hoped.

  "Good morning! We're headed to breakfast. The King is paying for everyone today, so you should go. I don't know what they have here, but hopefully it's of better quality than the beds." She felt bad, putting down the sleeping chambers, but when you considered that a meal in a cafe was only about a dec, then paying two decs per night, per person, was a lot. Rolling her eyes she realized that she'd need to pay more too, for Clara. It could be worse though, and if it helped the woman avoid being embarrassed, it was probably worth it.

  It was going to take the lady a bit to work herself around and change clothing. Gwen was still in what she'd slept in, so took a few moments to change too, being careful of her makeup. It was into a nearly identical outfit, but had fewer wrinkles, which at least showed it was clean. Hopefully they could find a laundry when they reached their layover town. That wouldn't be for two more days though.

  Certainly that was enough time to figure out who was possibly involved in things, wasn't it? The trick now, she knew, would be making sure they had the right person before they held them down and started beating them. Otherwise they'd look bad, and like they didn't have a clue what they were doing.

  Smiling, Gwen followed along with Bethany, who was leading her to the front of the sleeping car, and through the door. Hopefully off to where the food was.

  Now her stomach growled a bit, but not so loudly it was embarrassing.

  Chapter ten

  There was, once again, a strong sense that this new world she'd entered just lived in a different time frame than the one she came from. Not literally, but in a social sense. Gwen sat with her friend by her left hand, and called one of the dining car workers over immediately, to pay for things, so that no one would feel awkward later.

  It took nearly half an hour for the man to come over, and when he did, he seemed distracted, and a bit annoyed, as if she was jumping up and down and being a pain in the ass already. That wasn't fair of him, not at all. She was saving that for later, clearly. For a brief moment she wondered if slapping him around for a while would be worth it, but knew that being annoyed with her wasn't really a criminal offense. Instead she spoke gently.

  "We should be joined by five others. I'd like to cover their meals in advance, how much will that come to?" It didn't take long at all for her to figure out why Beth had asked if she was paying for her.

  "Ah. Seven mets." He said it as if that amount would be too much for her, but she'd actually pulled a thousand for traveling expenses. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone except Mr. Grimes, the family solicitor, who handled such things for her. This place didn't have credit or bank cards, so if you wanted cash, you brought it with you. She had too much, but clearly the rail system liked to rob people every chance they could.

  Like the movie theater back in Westwood. She'd only gone a few times, since people stared at her when she went out, but she'd never felt the need to pay ten bucks for a large bucket of greasy popcorn and a soda. Here however, they had them trapped, so she pulled a single ten met bill and handed it over.

  "There are men in the group, so if you could be discreet with the change?" Gwen looked at the man, and felt a cold chill run down her spine. The reason for that was different than she would have normally imagined.

  It was the greedy gleam in his eye and the slightly evil smile that crossed his lips as he snagged the bill and tucked it away. For a moment she wondered if he was going to try and play games with it, claiming that she hadn't paid at all, pocketing the whole thing. It was a lot, but not enough for most people to risk being fired over, she didn't think. Rather than do anything of the sort, he stared at her, looking deep into her eyes, and then bowed in a fashion that was a lot more servile than even most of the nobles servants had been.

  "I'm certain that can be arranged, ma'am. I'll inform the... chef, to prepare herself? Are we to wait for everyone else to arrive before serving?"

  Beth looked at the man as if he were a bug, but spoke in her normal, if slightly professional sounding, voice. "That would be good, thank you. Say, you were on the trains, on the North line, when those murders took place, weren't you? Jonathon Darling?" For half a second Gwen didn't get that his last name was that sweet sounding, and wondered why Bethany was trying to pick him up. Luckily she understood what was going on before the man spoke, his face showing extreme distaste, as if it were actually in his mouth. He looked sour and displeased all at once.

  "I was. I see that made the reports? There are a few of us that were. The... Chef, myself, and one of the porters. Almost all of us here were around for the second killing. That came right after a trade of personnel, since few are willing to work the North line right now."

  Giving the man a close look, one that verged on being too hard, Beth shrugged. That got Gwen's attention instantly. She didn't do that. Gwen did, but no one else in this new world had shrugged, as far as she'd seen. Oh, possibly a few that had been around her too much, but there was a quick glance that went with it too.

  It was a sign. Of what, she didn't know.

  Still, she tried to empty her mind and feel for anything out of the ordinary. There was a tiny bit of pressure from the man, but it felt like prescience, not like he was scattering magical effects about. It took focus for her to get what was going on. Beth had read his mind, and understood that he was planning to make up extra charges on the meal ticket, and pocket the difference. It was added in to the seven dollars too, since the cost was a bit less than that. Mets, she reminded herself. Seven mets.

  The man was clearly willing to try and steal, which didn't make him look good at all. On top of that he'd been around for all those murders. That was telling, but not proof at all.

  Her partner looked over, as if ready to out the man as a sneaky thief right then and there, or at least stop it from happening, but Gwen caught her eyes and touched her left temple. That was the signal for Bethany to read her thoughts, which got a nod from the blonde woman.

  Let him take it. It will give us a reason to set you on him later. That's legal, right?

  Half a second later, the other woman looked back toward the door, which made a sound, since Martin Cordell was walking through it, wearing a new outfit that made him look like a very proper pimp. He didn't have a hat with him, but the outfit was an off plum colored thing, that fairly shone in the early morning light that came through the large windows on the side of the dining car.

  Gwen ignored the waiter, or whatever he was, and signaled the man to come over, which required a new chair be pulled into place at the table, which had a nice white linen cloth over it.

  "Good morning, Mr. Cordell. Did you sleep well?" It sounded like a good thing to ask, and the man stroked his freshly shaved cheek before answering.

  "I did, you had a restful night as well?" That sounded... Sly. She nearly glared at him, and Beth gave him a sharp enough look that it was pretty certain he was being nasty, but she saw him look up to see that Sally was coming into the car, alone. "I noticed that the other one wasn't with her friend earlier. Instead she was coming out of your sleeper?"

  Bethany did something under the table that Martin missed and Gwen simply didn't. The move had a PC pointed at his middle, hidden by the table cloth. It was an overreaction to what had been implied though, which probably meant that Mr. Cordell was getting special privileges from her friend. He was one of her avowed enemies after all. Or, more exactly, he'd often made that claim in reverse.

  Looking him dead in the eyes, Gwen wrinkled her nose.

  "I let Clara have the top bunk. I need to pass along some funds for that. She's signing on as my maid for the trip. That way she won't have to sell herself to you or the other men for a place to sleep." The words just flowed out and sounded... completely calm and normal, as if it was actually a thing, and not her makin
g up an excuse to have a whore sleeping with her.

  Martin probably could have made a big deal out of that still, but looked slightly troubled instead. "I... think I understand. That's a good thing for you to do. I was worried that you might have been harassing her, using your position, after she spoke harshly to your friend yesterday morning. It's natural that she'd do so, of course, but not exactly a thing that would ensure a smooth journey." Then, as soon as the words were out, he winced. He even looked slightly guilty. Turning to Beth, he actually stammered a little. "Forgive me, I didn't mean it to sound like that, I just meant her fear is..."

  Being a very kind and polite person, Beth just sighed. "I understand what you mean. All Westmorlands do. It isn't as if we're not aware of what's said about us. All we have to do is turn on the Telesar and there it is, most days, assaulting our ears. Normally we don't have people direct such at us in public, but it happens."

  "Yes. I know." The professional bigot blushed and looked away.

  Gwen waved Sally over, and the woman seemed very nearly scared at first. She moved however, and before Gwen could stand to move a chair for her, a different waiter came out and did it for them, adding the rest of what would be needed without pausing. Then he gave a polite and not smarmy feeling bow and left. This man was about the same age as the other, but didn't have that creepy feeling about him.

  It probably meant he was the killer.

  "Good morning, Miss Kiers! I think we have a small wait before everyone joins us. I was just telling Mr. Cordell here that I was thinking of hiring Clara on as a maid for the rest of the journey. Perhaps you as well?" Again, her mouth was running and she didn't know exactly why it was doing that. The woman already had enough mets on her not to have to whore herself for the trip, and she was a prostitute, and apparently was, if not in love with the life, not so minding of it that she was striving too hard to find anything else either. Not that Gwen had seen. Then, would she? They hadn't exactly been discussing the ins and outs of their various lives, had they?

  Surprisingly the skinny ferret of a woman smiled suddenly and looked far happier than she had been.

  "Oh! That would be brilliant. We'd get to be nearly legitimate for a whole two weeks! I can't say as I know a lot about what to do. Clean your room and find some way to press and wash your clothing? We can do that, I bet, Miss. I'll work with Miss Westmorland, directly, if that pleases?" The sudden acceptance was heartening, and a little baffling. Maybe she thought that Gwen overpaid for everything? She probably would too, but not ten mets per day or anything.

  Bethany smiled, her face looking warm and pleased, rather than put out. "Most excellent. I have extra room in my quarters, if you wish?"

  The woman shook her head and then smiled a little bit, covering this with her hand. It was a little off, like a regular person pretending to be upper crust, rather than real, but she giggled a bit, which seemed closer to what would have really happened.

  Then she looked at the door. "I have a room for Clara and I. She never came to bed. Perhaps she was in with that sales fellow? He had a likely air about him, didn't he?"

  Shaking her head, Gwen didn't correct her assumption about Mr. Hadley. That was his business and until it needed to get around for professional reasons, she had no need to talk about him and what kind of person he'd want in bed with him.

  "She was in with me for the night. She'll probably want to be in with you, but I don't think she realized that the room was open to her."

  Instead of claiming that she should have known, Sally sighed. After a bit she looked at Martin and winked, which was a lot more playful than she'd been being.

  "Clara is like that. She means well and once you get to know her, she really isn't all that hard or prickly, but she's not all that bright and expects others to try and take advantage of her. That or leave her out. She'll be in with me for the next days, Miss. If that's all right, I mean? I have one of the best rooms, and it's awfully nice. A real feather bed and its own wash stand."

  That did sound nice. Still, she needed space more than she needed luxury. She'd be fine with what she had. If not, she could upgrade, but it would make the Special Service look soft, which wasn't what she wanted at all.

  "That sounds like a plan. I'll cover your room and board for the trip, so plan to eat meals with Beth and I?" She had a little more to say, but everyone else started to come then, with Hadley being the last one in, his face holding a look of concern, rather than pleasure. Carter looked pleased at least, and blushed when he saw Sally sitting at the grownups table.

  The salesman was brought to a seat, and then looked around, still uncomfortable. It fairly poured off of him, and, Gwen realized, that wasn't a mistake. He was scattering magic all over the place. It was enough that Beth looked at the man too, and then shifted a bit, the PC that she'd never put away going to him instead of Martin. Why she still had it out, Gwen didn't know.

  Smiling she gestured toward the waiter that didn't seem like a sleazy freak, and then looked at everyone else.

  "The food will be coming in a moment. I know that things were a little tense yesterday, what with the questioning and all that, so Bethany suggested we have the Kingdom cover this meal for you. Clara, you and Sally have hired on as maids for the trip. I mean, if you want to?"

  She seemed to not get it for a bit, but Sally nodded encouragingly at her, and Clara spoke softly, her eyes going big as she looked around. This room was rather nice, but at a met per meal, or even nine decs, she probably couldn't have afforded to eat the food here, and would have to wait until they were at a station to get something.

  "That sounds nice, Miss." Instead of sounding mean and coarse, she gave off an air of innocence now. It was nearly sweet.

  The food started coming, and that meant they had a lot of tiny courses to eat. Slowly. Over two hours. They ended with tiny cups of fairly good coffee, and no one did more than speak about the weather or the news for the entire time. It wasn't until they turned to the topic of the children's camps that Martin turned back to Gwen in particular though.

  "That was your idea, wasn't it, Miss Farris? I really thought that they'd cancel those once things worked out with... That woman and her evil friends, but they went right ahead with it anyway. Do you know why that was? I haven't been able to pin that one down at all."

  The man was looking directly at her, but it was Beth that spoke, doing so with a smile on her face.

  "It was two people that had that done. Gwen and King Ferdinand. Both for the same reason too. They'd given their word to the children of the Western Kingdom, and insisted that they keep it. The effort was vast, I heard. Gwen and I couldn't go, since we got this assignment without a departure time, but I have reports saying it was a splendid success. The children got to act as the crew of airships and actually make shipment runs, to see what it would really be like to do that. They also got to try out the new dot-aimers for Crins. Even the girls. There was also camping, and sing-along parties, that sort of event. The boys won all the war game events, until the last day, when the girls stole all the airships and used them to attack from the sky. That would have been glorious to see."

  Gwen had heard about that, and sort of thought that it had the feeling of Heather Westmorland written all over it. She was Special Service too and hard enough not to want the girls to let the boys win all the time. Otherwise, why would they bother to improve?

  The people at the table managed to smile and Sally looked wistful. She hadn't spoken once the others were all there, focusing on her table manners it seemed. She was copying everything Gwen was doing very closely, though her friend just ate, like everyone else did.

  "I wish there had been things like that when I was a girl. It would have been... Well, you don't end up like Clara and I if things go perfectly in your life, do you?"

  Everyone looked at her, and things were starting to get a little uneasy when Martin spoke, his voice gentle.

  "There is no blame to a person doing what they have to, in order to survive, Miss.
Not from me."

  Beth nodded once and swallowed a sip of her coffee. "Not from myself either."

  Everyone else seemed surprised by that statement, except Gwen, since she actually knew what being a Westmorland was all about. They didn't have a lot of choices and simply had to survive what they were put through. Not all of them did, she was willing to bet. It would be nothing for people that would torture children to bury a few, every now and then. That or put them in medical facilities, except... Well, even untrained, the Westmorland children were too dangerous for that, weren't they? It would be a Crin to the back of the head for them, if they couldn't be trained. Maybe not all the time, but enough. Even one dead child was too many.

  Gwen looked around, her eyes mellow and soft. At least that was what she was going for. She didn't make a big deal out of things though, and started a conversation, about what Mr. Hadley had for sale.

  Standing, an abrupt thing that was probably rude, the man practically ran from the room, only to come back ten minutes later, pulling his wheeled trunk along with him. It was a large, very well worn thing, made of wood and banded with metal. It had been painted red and brown at one point, but needed another coat now, if it were going to look nice again.

  "My wares. Let me set up here... We have some old favorites and new wonders as well!" His voice held showmanship, and his mustache twitched a little in amusement, as he looked around the table at each of them. He worked while he did, drawing things out a bit.

  When he finally turned around, he held out a small metal box. It had a blade on the top and no bottom to it. Gwen actually sort of recognized it. You worked the little handle, and slid the thing back and forth, which would cut an apple or potato held to the top into thin slices.