Abominations Page 27

  This got a chuckle from Beth, who explained that what she'd done with the stove or at the museum to raise the stone would work just fine, all she had to do was charge the crystal until it felt full. Before Gwen could ask how she'd know what that felt like, she told her that that's what this lesson was about.

  “Give it a try, it won't hurt. You can't mess it up.”

  Gwen set her mind and focused, pushing at the metal plate by concentrating on it. After three minutes or so, she felt it pushing back at her, she thought, a few seconds later she knew it pushed back.

  “That feeling, that pushing back, is that it?”

  “Most likely. Everyone tends to describe it a little differently, some people say it feels like tingling, others just know that it's done or feel it as heat. I always feel it as a knowing, but that's the rarest of perceptions, a pushing is a nice tangible sense of things. Probably easier to work with for a beginner. That's why I didn't tell you what to look for, so that you'd be able to find your own way.”

  Then Beth had her charge every crystal in the place to full, one at a time, without taking a break.

  “Good! I didn't want to do all of that myself, it's boring, but a lot cheaper than hiring it done. So, as it is right now, if worse ever came to worse, you could get a job doing just that. Mind numbing, exhausting by the end of the day, but it pays well enough to make the rent on this place and keep you in food. We'll work this for a few weeks, since that feeling, that release of power that's required to fill a crystal, is exactly what you need to learn to control first. If you aren't releasing energy, you aren't doing magic.”

  It felt like a huge weight had suddenly lifted off of Gwen's chest, one that she hadn't even known existed. The knowledge that, if everything here went south, she could get a job that would let her survive on her own merits made her feel so much better. After all, the Vernors wouldn't want to give her money forever and Beth, sweet as she was about everything, wouldn't need a caretaker much longer either. Really, that Gwen was getting paid for it was probably a bit of an insult to the woman, since she was doing at least as much for her as the other way around. Glancing at the last of the crystals sitting on the low table in front of the sofa Gwen winced. More. Bethany was doing more for her than the other way around. Plus, hadn't she already said that on a normal job other Westmorlands would make sure that all the states were managed correctly? If so, this job was going to dry up one day soon. It kind of had to.

  Since they were on magic and related topics right now, Gwen asked her if her intuition and telepathy worked even when she wasn't in her work state.

  “Kind of. I can focus and pick up thoughts, but there are built-in limits to keep it from being too easy. This was put in to protect me, not other people from too invasive a gathering of information. So, yes, if I know to do it, I can pick up thoughts, and intuitions come all the time, just at a muted level. Um... Not to scare you, but you have the same basic abilities too, just untrained. Now if you never train them at all, they shouldn't be much of a problem for you, unless your mind turns out to have a particular aptitude for such things. The same is true with the rest of the natural magical abilities. Everyone has them all, but without focusing on them they don't do much. I'm just telling you this because you may, or may not, pick things up from people at times. Don't let it scare you if it happens is all. Sometimes what other people think isn't all that flattering or kind, but I imagine you're well hardened to that idea from your other life. Given that, you probably wouldn't be shaken by almost anything in another's head at all.” Beth stared at her for a second, a considering look on her face.

  They worked out a sign to get Beth to do this, read her mind, which involved Gwen holding her left temple for five seconds or more. At that point, Beth would read her thoughts, so that the detective could find out what she wanted. It wasn't perfect – being one way – but it gave them some limited ability to coordinate silently.

  They practiced it for a while, until they were both sure they had the signal down and that Gwen could think in a way, on purpose, that would clearly pass information to Beth. It actually took a bit for her to catch on that her thoughts distorted when she tried to control them overly, the main thought eventually becoming the focus on projecting instead of the message she tried to send.

  What she finally found that seemed to work, was a simple repetition of the words in her head. She spent a few seconds thinking at the detective to turn on the radio, until she remembered they called it a telesar here. When she got it right, the other woman stood up and turned it on to a station that played something like instrumental Jazz.

  Bethany pulled out her needle point, and noticing that Gwen just sat watching her, pulled out a spare frame from her bag and demonstrated how to do some basic stitches. After about an hour of this, they decided on a simple pattern for her to try and then both of them sat quietly, stitching away for a while, talking and listening to the music.

  After a while, Beth changed the station to one with news on it. This time they didn't even have to listen to anything about Westmorlands. It was a Saturday evening gossip show that seemed to be a reading of articles from newspapers and then commenting on them. The whole thing sounded a bit lazy to Gwen, but then the guy commenting wasn't a giant prick either, so she could forgive his lack of personal footwork.

  Katherine Vernor's name came up in the second section after a couple of advertisements which involved the newsies singing jingles, poorly for the most part, acting out little verbal skits or simply saying that a particular item could be purchased or a new store was open and ready for business. Gwen realized that she could probably make a killing in advertising here. All they needed were recording devices, which they had. If not they wouldn't be able to replay interviews and music, which she knew they did all the time. No one had thought of using that for advertising though.

  “So, Miss Suzette of the Post says that the much talked about birthday party for wife of shipping magnate Robert Vernor, Ethyl, went spectacularly with only one glaring sore point, when a party crasher – anti-Westmorland activist Martin Cardell – tried to create a scene, apparently attempting to provoke the party goers into attacking him for some free publicity. Instead the Vernors simply talked to the man and served him dinner, including a finely crafted confection of tiny cakes for dessert. Even Cardell could be overheard commenting on how good they were.

  “Now that's class if you ask me. No one would have blamed them for having the lout tossed on his ear with a bit of the boot added to help him on his way, but instead they took the high road. Something for us all to aspire to.”

  A rustle of paper came from between the spheres of the telesar.

  “Miss Suzette goes on to say that Katherine Vernor, known party girl about town is apparently serious about her dedication toward living a more stable life, after her close call of two weeks ago.”

  The story finished off with a quote, the words that Gwen had spoken to the older lady at the party, about what she'd believed were her last thoughts. It sounded better when someone else said it. Almost noble and deep.

  Beth looked up from her needlework and nodded.

  “Keep that up and in a few short years they may even be ready to believe you're serious you know.”

  It hit her that she hadn't really been thinking in terms of years here. She'd been put in this body suddenly and knew, inside, that it could all go away just as quickly. All of life was like that really. Just when it happened to most people they were dead, not transported into a life that, while strange, seemed in many ways to be much better than what they'd known before.

  Not that she wanted her old life back, not by any means, but did she really have a right to this one? She didn't know. Everyone wanted to make it right by blaming Katherine, but that didn't mean she deserved Gwen's old life, did it? No, better if she'd just died.

  Chapter twenty-one

  The next day, after getting up early – even for this place – and having their normal breakfast, they both trudged down the s
tairs to the lobby, to wait for their transportation to the airfield to show up. Gwen had expected a large, probably black or brown lorrie to come for them, since that kind of vehicle made up the bulk of what they saw on the road when James took them places. Instead a tiny buggy pulled up, guided by a young man that looked to be about twenty or so, if not younger.

  He smiled at them and waved, jumping down from the low seat, about five feet from the ground compared to the normal seven foot position that James sat in, or higher for the bigger vehicles, and headed over to them at a jog.

  “Kate! How are you? I haven't seen you for ages. Father told me you needed a ride to the airfield today and I nearly passed out. I mean who would have thought we'd ever get you up in the air.” The words were rapid and excited sounding, stopping only when the young man looked over at Bethany, who stood wearing tan pants and a tucked-in shirt with a belt around the middle. Gwen had on something very similar, since Beth had insisted, telling her she had an intuition that this would work better than dresses for some reason. It had been in the very back of Katherine's stuff, near the bottom of the clothing chest, almost as if hidden away.

  “Sorry, Miss. Forgot my manners for a second in my excitement about seeing my cousin, please forgive me.” His voice had suddenly gone very formal and adult sounding, to Gwen's ear at least. “I'm Reginald Welk, your driver for today, Katherine's cousin and general pain in my Father's... er, neck. Pleased to meet you.” Unlike most of the men here, Reginald put his hand out automatically to Beth and shook hands without looking half embarrassed. This earned him a smile from the woman that made him blush more than a little.

  “Hello, Reginald.” Gwen hoped that her raised eyebrows and hint of a smile would smooth things over if she got the name wrong somehow. After all, if she'd always called him Reggie, then it may sound a little strange, right?

  “My friend here is Constabulary Detective Bethany Westmorland...”

  If Reginald had a problem with Westmorlands at all, or the Constabulary, it didn't seem to extend to the woman in front of him, since he spent most of the ride to the airfield asking her questions, adding some indications that he was of legal age and free to date if she wasn't spoken for, though the subtlety with which this got worked into what he said surprised Gwen more than a bit. At first glance she would have figured him to be what he seemed, a cute, fairly vapid, puppy of a man. His intelligence came out in what he asked though, and his rather deep knowledge of the Westmorland projects, particularly the military aspects of them, but he even had a working knowledge of what the main sub-categories were trained for. It led to a conversation that nearly lost Gwen, even as she struggled to memorize it all. Beth seemed pleased though and tried to encourage him.

  They rode for about forty minutes or so, going a good bit faster than James or the other lorries normally went. Reginald admitted that he'd altered the drive crystals to put out a stronger flow of energy than would normally be allowed.

  “That plus the light weight means this baby can do about thirty-four knots on a flat. Slower uphill of course, but it will still outrun just about everything on the road. I'll let you have a go later, once we get off the street if you want. It's not hard, especially in something this small.”

  Saying that sounded like fun, if they could do it without being a public hazard made the man, Cousin Reginald, laugh for some reason.

  “Yeah, I remember when you crashed into that tree last time... Still, you made good and paid for this one, so, why not? Crash badly enough and maybe I can upgrade again?” He stayed focused on the road when he talked, the tiny vehicle placing them only about three feet from the back of his head. She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “No crashing for me. I'm still healing up from things,” said Gwen. Beth kept looking at the back of the sandy blond head and grinning. After a bit, Gwen put her hand on the side of head, indicating she should read her mind. She repeated the idea that she could probably have sex with Reginald here too, if she wanted.

  Instead of some other reaction, a blush or grin, Beth just winked at her knowingly and nodded.

  The airfield looked like a large empty field, with grass about a foot high over most of it. Past a hangar-like building, a huge one that hid another eight structures from view until they were most of the way around it, were three very large airships.

  To her they looked a little odd, like blimps, but huge, ten or maybe fifteen times bigger at a guess. They also looked a bit flat on the top, with the balloon portion being thinner from top to bottom than she'd thought they'd be after seeing a few from the ground.

  They pulled in front of a standalone building, from which the Admiral strode, wearing a much plainer uniform, this time in dark blue, with a much more utilitarian hat, kind of like a pith helmet or hard hat. He raised a hand in greeting as they all got out, Cousin Reg – as Gwen impulsively decided to call him – helping Bethany out carefully. He let Gwen hop out on her own, grinning at her while she did it.

  “Good morning, ladies. Glad you could join us, Detective Westmorland, Katherine. I see you've both dressed for adventure! Good, I can give you a real tour then, instead of just the ladies and oldsters version. Not that you weren't going to get the full tour anyway, this way I just won't have to pay for replacement dresses.” He smiled at them impishly.

  Beth looked at the man and gave him a winning smile in return. “From what she said yesterday, I do believe a full tour would suit Katherine today. She kept talking about the propulsion system and how that might work. I have to admit, given all her questions, the in-depth version sounds best by far.”

  Gwen hid a grimace. While she had asked about the propulsion system, and guessed it may be something like the one the lorries use, she didn't know enough to even guess if Katherine had, or should have, any knowledge of such things. What kind of information would the girl have been expected to pick up at the dinner table for instance, or had they made her work in the office as a girl or something? Probably not, Gwen realized, or the other woman wouldn't have ended up so spoiled.

  The tour started in the main operations building, which had several telestator units, so they could keep in touch with multiple airships at once, the room looked a little crowded because of this, walkways were left between the machines that gave enough room to maneuver, as long as you watched your step. It would have been a pain if they'd worn dresses. Of course, this current outfit felt totally comfortable to her, being a lot closer to the jeans and t-shirt ensembles she almost always wore at home. Dresses still felt odd and cumbersome even after the last weeks, but this felt right, natural even.

  While they toured the facility, a call for aid came in, not a real emergency, just a misjudgment in crystal power levels. It took Gwen a bit to realize that nothing here had a power gauge on it, you knew things needed new crystals or a recharge when they stopped. That felt like a pretty glaring oversight to her, but maybe it couldn't be done easily or something? She'd have to look into the idea if she could. Anyone inventing a gauge to do that would probably be an instant millionaire here.

  “Oh... sorry, but it looks like we'll have to reschedule, ladies. We can't leave a boat adrift like this... We have to go and replace the crystals directly, and, right now, I'm the only one here that can leave to go do it. The rest of the personnel are either needed for safety reasons, or are already on runs. It's Sunday after all.” He looked horribly embarrassed about the whole thing.

  Gwen just shrugged, Sunday seemed to be more like a Tuesday here, she realized, rather than the slow day at the end of the week she'd grown up with. No one else was in because they were busy working, not off at church. Not that she'd ever known anyone that went to church on Sunday herself.

  “Well, that's too bad, but not a huge thing. Would it be alright though if we just came along? I mean, if it wouldn't be a violation of the rules or anything?”

  The Admiral smiled again and winked at her.

  “That's the spirit I like to see! Of course you can come, it just won't be very scenic goi
ng in that direction, no storms or high winds today, so far, meaning it should be smooth going, if you're both willing? I'll have to pilot, so, if you don't mind the Engineer giving you the tour in propulsions instead of me? This is an emergency, if not a pressing one, so I warn you, if need be you'll have to help out as best you can.”

  The man suddenly sounded dubious, but Beth just nodded, as if to let him know that would be only protocol.

  “Right.” The older man gave the Westmorland a searching look for a few seconds. “Sorry, I forgot for a moment that you're a full Captain in the Air-Navy. Good, we can always use the backup, just in case, really this should be simple enough though. Shall we go?”

  The airship they were to travel in turned out to be much smaller than the others that were moored outside, about half the size, though built on the same basic plan. The Admiral told them that even though they'd need to carry about two thousand pounds of fresh, fully charged crystal with them, this ship, even being much smaller than the others, could carry about a hundred times that without stress. It made Gwen wonder what the others could take.

  The crew was all scrambling to load the large square crystal when Gwen's group arrived, walking quickly to the hangar they'd be leaving from. When they approached the back of the craft where this took place, they could hear a woman's voice shouting.