The Mask of Omegon (Gwen Farris Book 6) (10 page)

Winslow smiled a bit.

“Perhaps a trifle petty to do it
that way? I’m certain that merely explaining that you wish your private affairs
to stay that way would be enough for him. If not, Deborah knows the man, I
believe? There are oh, layers of things to do before destroying him for all
time. Even killing him might be kinder. At least it wouldn’t be starving to
death.”

She sort of understood that one, having
seen Charles almost end up in a similar situation a few years before. His
boyfriend Will had been caught out by his boss of the time. Being a pervert,
which was what they called anyone that wasn’t strictly playing for what they
considered the right team, could destroy a man. A woman too, most likely,
though that didn’t seem to be as big of a deal there. Why that was, she’d never
worked out.

So odds were that Winslow might be
a bit sensitive on that score.

“Fine, fine. I won’t start out with
that one. I’m not happy though. I should… I don’t know what to do, really. If
death and social destruction are out, then I’m
pretty
much down to
stewing in my juices and pretending that I’m an adult, aren’t I?” She hated
doing that.

Not that being the grown up wasn’t
a good plan, most days. It was just that her entire life had been filled with
people doing bad things to her, while the world left her almost nothing to do
about it in return. Now she was in a place where she had power. Not just wealth
at her disposal, but the personal kind which made her incredibly dangerous to
anyone that had done her wrong.

Though, after a few seconds, she
got something that had moved past her. There had been a real problem and she’d
fixed
it. Herself. Without harming anyone. It just seemed off to her, since violence
had been her only real retribution for so long.

“When you only have a hammer.” She
spoke the words out loud, which got Robert to look at her. Winslow had left
while she thought, probably to do his job.

“Sorry there? You need a hammer for
something?”

“Not really. It’s a saying from
where I’m from. When you only have a hammer, every problem starts to look like
a nail. I’m too used to
only
having a hammer. That’s all.”

The man might not have heard the
saying before, but he was smart. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been the captain of
worldwide airshipping. That meant he got the idea without having to think about
it for all that long. A few seconds.

“You do have a lot going for you now,
don’t you? If you wanted, I could set you up in a business doing nothing more
than you did a few minutes ago. Just as there are mets in taking the damaging
pictures, people would pay well to have them removed and destroyed. You even
knew to get the negatives. Which shows rather a keen mind for that sort of
thing” There was a frank look, with just the hint of a smile going on. “That,
or bank robbery. Though if you need funds, I’d prefer you work for them, if you
won’t just take them from myself and Ethyl. It is there for you, if you want
it. Everything.”

That got her to roll her eyes. She
got the idea. He meant his entire fortune.

“Not needed. You’ve both been
wonderful
to me. You know that, right? I feel like I’m just a drag on everyone. Not just
you either. Ferdinand, Charles,
everyone
with the last name
Westmorland.” Probably poor Tomas as well. On the good side, he could just drop
her and it would be fine. Not for her, but she didn’t really figure that the
man would be around forever.

Even if they did have things in
common, like being a bit strange for the world they lived in.

Robert put the paper down again,
but didn’t seem worked up or anything. Just pensive.

“That isn’t true.
Any
of us
would stand before you in a fight.” He stopped then and smiled. “Which is
probably
what
you really mean, isn’t it? You aren’t habituated to being
cared for that closely, so it sends you off your match. It seems a stress on
others, even as you throw yourself in front of harm for all of us, a thousand
times. As if the two things don’t weigh the same. Which is true, but the lack
of balance goes the
other
way, Gwen. We, all of us, owe
you
.” The
man shook his head, but only a tiny bit.

She didn’t respond, not able to see
all of it.

After a moment Mr. Vernor went on.

“There is no real way for our world
to repay you. Most heroes come from within. Their actions are… Linked, after a
fashion to the world they grew up in. Their payment is in part repayment for
the life they’ve had. For the food the world provided them. For the parenting
they received. The backdrop of a thousand things that made them into what they
are, both good and bad. With you there’s none of that. Everything we’ve seen
here tells our entire world that you should be something so very different than
we see before us. I know that King Ferdinand is at a loss about what to do for
you.” He took a long slow breath.

Gwen didn’t know what to really
say.

“I don’t need anything.” It was
true enough. Even going home wasn’t going to work for her. It wasn’t there
anymore.

Not that it had been all that great
for her. The best times she’d ever had were all in the world she was sitting in
at that moment.

The man, who was nice looking in a
distinguished way, actually chuckled a little then.

“I know. We
all
do. Do you
have any idea how frustrating that is? Everyone wants to repay you and each
time we try, we end up in greater debt. Which is fine. You’re family. That
happens
.
Just, you have to know that
we’re
here for you as well. The entire
world. Well, not
all
of them, perhaps. I do wager that you could have
simply spoken to Stev Hess however. A man that would flay his own mother alive
for sales, true. I don’t doubt that he’d sit up and heel to your word without
issue, with no more than a suggestion it be done.”

She had nothing at all to use in
response to that. So she changed the channel.

“We’re, Adam and I, trying to put
together a new program. Getting prisoners of war back?” She waved at the
pictures to her left, that had the shiny strip of film on the top. It was
enough to have the other man going wide eyed.

“You can do that? I’ve never even
considered that as an option. How…” Then he stopped and waved at her. “That
then. Right there, Gwen. Once again we find you standing in front of us. Not
that you shouldn’t be doing that, but if you wonder why we all love you, if you
ever start to doubt, think on that.”

The rest of the meal was all small
talk, as she tried to not feel bad for being less than she should have been.
Finally, Katherine spoke in her head.

~ That’s the point, Gwen. Father is
trying to let you know that you are more than you should have been. It’s a good
thing, not a failing. So please. Stop the self-pity? Or at least feel poorly
over the things that are actual problems. That people like you isn’t a bad situation.
~

It wasn’t the nicest thing that the
woman in her head had ever said to her. It was however the first time that it
had really happened when Katherine couldn’t directly benefit from it. Unless
she was softening Gwen up for extra reward time. That was actually possible,
she knew. Little Peter, who wasn’t all the small any more, she recalled, would
have come in and killed them all for an extra hour of time that night. He’d
feel awful about it later, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting at what he
wanted.

Kat was in the same boat that way.

If so she was being clever about it
however. She’d been nice and propped Gwen up when she felt pretty low. That
really could end up with her doing the same for the woman later. Like a pet on
television that had clearly trained their owner to get them a treat every time
they sat. Part of her wanted to punish the woman for doing that. Another part
of her knew that she had no way of knowing if she was correct at that moment
anyway.

So she set it all aside. If it was
a trick to get more from her, then Katherine would have to try it many times to
make it work. That would get pretty obvious. If that didn’t happen, then it
meant she might have been telling the truth.

All of this indicated to her that
Gwen Farris was being paranoid. Again. That really was a big problem in her own
life of course. It was what Robert had really been speaking about a few minutes
before. She tried to be there for everyone else. At the same time she felt that
getting anything from them was out of balance. That was down to the idea that
she wasn’t worth anything. No matter how hard she worked or tried. That she was
always just a burden.

That feeling came again a few
minutes later when Ethyl walked into the room. She had makeup on already and a
light blue dress that looked heavy for a day that might well end up being too
warm. If it was, the woman would just change her outfit. She smiled on her
arrival to the space, looking sunny and actually happy.

“Good morning everyone! I’m feeling
incredibly optimistic today!” Almost as if her name were Cassandra, she looked
over at the photos, blinked and picked them up before Gwen realized that the
woman might not wish to see her little girl doing those particular things with
an unknown man. Not that she couldn’t get that it was Tomas, since he’d been
wearing the same clothing when they’d come to visit. Not half an hour after
they’d finished on the bed, if she remembered correctly.

Instead of saying something quaint
or cute, like a church lady that was about to have a horrible case of the
fainting vapors, she made a half choking noise.

“An attempt to extort us?” She
glanced at Robert first, then looked over at Gwen.

Her husband shook his head.

“The Scan, peeking through the
lock. If I have what happened correctly, those are the only copies. Gwen
rather… Used teletransport from a distance. Did you know she could do that?
Apparently she and some of the Westmorlands are planning to turn their powers
toward retrieving prisoners off in Europa. It’s a most amazing concept, if it
works. I was just suggesting to Gwen that I might know a few people that would
love to have her turn her powers onto projects that have vexed many of them for
years. More than that if people talk about it.”

That got Ethyl to set the things
down, after glancing at each of them first.

“Oh, my, yes. That would be most
popular, I have to imagine. What would you need in order to find objects or…
evidence?”

They went over that for a while.
The rules sounded pretty formal and limited to her, but both of the others
seemed to think that it was practically her saying that she could move anything
in the world that she knew about. Which it was, with a few exceptions.

“I can’t do more than two people at
a time that way. Other objects are easier. Things that aren’t alive. I haven’t
tried an animal, but I doubt I could do a horse or anything like that. No
elephants from the zoo for the back yard or anything.” She tried to be light
about it all, but it suddenly seemed like a huge barrier.

After all, that meant she’d have to
do prisoners one at a time.

“I probably won’t be able to get
things behind a good null field either. I can break those, but it takes a
while. I’ve never done it at a distance, which might be harder. Just the ones
on me while escaping. I should get some and practice. I bet they’re cheap and
plentiful.” She grinned at the words, which got Mr. Vernor to nod along with
her, getting the joke.

“Neither of those, of course. Which
actually makes it more likely that you can retrieve things. I can get some
though, for you to practice on. It might come up, getting those men back from
the HF.” The term was a new one for her. She got that it meant the Europans,
but not what it might stand for.

She looked puzzled, as Ethyl looked
away and Robert went on as if not noticing that she might be missing the
meaning.

Winslow had come in with a
finishing glass of berry juice for her. The others had coffee. For once the
tumbler wasn’t the size of a thimble. Then, the man did love his juice as far
as increasing health went. He didn’t even tell her to drink it all, tilting his
head a bit.

“The Europans are noted for their
love of horses, Miss.”

That clicked in her head. She’d
been there after all. More than once. The first time, when she’d been
kidnapping a Baron she wanted to murder, she had noticed that there were a lot
of the beasts on the streets. It made sense to her, since they were decedents
of the Mongolian hordes. Far more directly than in her world. Enough so that
people in Paris, which was still called that for some unknown reason, all spoke
Mongolian first. Almost no one had spoken French at all. Which was a shame,
since that’s what she’d taken in high school.

That got her to nod at no one.

“I need to get some language
lessons. Radiatives, too. I’ve done a little, but I know that I’m missing
things. I wonder if I could audit some classes at Western? Just sit in, I mean?
That’s probably a poor idea.” Instead of telling her that she was acting insane
and abrupt, which to her she was, everyone pretended like the conversation had
simply shifted.