Monsters, p.22
Monsters, page 22
part #2 of Gwen Farris Series
What he’d said, if it wasn’t supposed to be a joke, was incredible. Probably too much so for sanity. The man got tucked between her and Ethyl, who was across from Robert. For his part he waved Winslow to sit next to him, and Heather settled in alongside, leaving a single seat at the table. For a moment no one else seemed to want to join them, even though several people stared at them. It was one of those odd things that no one here would really be conscious of, Gwen figured. The Westmorlands were comfortable enough with Beth and Heather, but kind of kept their distance from Darren, thinking he was strange, and most of them didn’t know Winslow at all, or the Vernors, except as Gwen’s fake parents.
The others were kind of selecting tables without Westmorlands at them, except the King, who had Adam at his left hand openly, acting as if it wasn’t a show of support. Thinking too deeply for good awareness, she didn’t really realize who joined them at first just that a new body had settled at the table with them, the blond hair so short it looked almost like a boys cut, even considering the woman was in her early thirties or so. Deborah.
Deborah Winslow. Charles the butlers sister, SimStyl magazine reporter, and just to make the whole thing a lot less comfortable for Gwen personally, Katherine’s old girlfriend. They’d already worked that out, hopefully, so while it was awkward, it might not be a huge problem.
The woman had a stiff look on her face, and stared at Gwen directly, her gaze not leaving hers. Eyes locked in place as if ready for a fight. Feeling a little tired for it all that night, she just waved a bit to the woman.
“Hello Deborah. This is a surprise. I didn’t know you were coming to dinner. Did you follow us, or is this just a regular place for you to eat? It does have good food… Well, hmm… I guess this is the right table for you then, all things considered.” She waved a bit to everyone and then back to the stranger.
“Everyone, this is Deborah Winslow. Deborah, this is everyone. She’s going to be working with Count Goebbels on news matters and favorable exposure. We’re foisting the position upon her without asking.” If the grin on Gwen’s face was a bit wicked, it was just because she felt that way. The woman smirked at her and shook her head.
“Right, you can just assign positions like that now? That’s a bit of a change, if so, don’t you think? From social butterfly to commander of the troops in just a few months?”
Gwen nodded, her face going a bit more serious.
“Yes. I mean, I can’t really order you to do it, or order the Count to work with you, but I can suggest to you both that you give it a try. The man has skills and so do you, so it would be a great pairing I think. Hold on the second.” She hopped up, glad that she was dressed in her version of the Westmorlands daily work uniform. Hers was technically a little darker and a bit more comfortable, tailored to her individually in a way that no one else bothered with, since Ethyl and Robert had paid for her clothing, but that made it easier to move in somehow. She stepped back over the bench and walked over to the Kings table, waving at him with her fingertips, but looking at Goebbels.
She gestured with her whole hand back at the woman, who other than her dress and decent bust line could have passed for a boy right now. A fairly cute one too.
“Count Goebbels? That’s Deborah Winslow, from SimStyl magazine? I’m recommending her to you for your new division. She has press contacts, and from what I know of her magazine, no real qualms when it comes to dressing up the truth a bit to fit the needs of the moment. I’m sure that might come in handy. Should I have her come over after the meal? I can send her away if you have someone else in mind for the position, but she’s really is good. Started rumors about me that still haunt me to this day.” It would be awkward, but she was the one running her mouth and saying stupid things like that in the first place, so it would serve her right if she had to eat her words. It was a good idea though.
Goebbels stood up, smiling and walked over to their table, his hand lightly touching Gwen’s arm. If she got the rules here right, that was kind of proprietary of him, almost as if he was signaling the whole room that she was with him, which got a glare from the Vernor’s, a hard stare from Winslow and a slightly surprised look from Deborah. The Westmorlands all acted like it was just normal. After a second she got it herself. The Count was reacting to her clothing and treating her like one of them. Apparently the normal rules didn’t matter as long as you were a third class citizen.
She would have liked it better if the guy was just trying to hit on her. He wasn’t good looking, blocky and a bit rough through the face, but at least that would be about her and not some kind of subconscious preconception.
The man smiled and reached out to shake the woman’s hand.
“You’re conscripted, Miss Winslow. Please report to me at Park Street tomorrow? I’ll clear this with your editor, so there should be no difficulty. It’s an emergency situation however, so we must all make sacrifices. You know Miss Vernor?” He waited as they both nodded slightly, not presuming anything.
“Good, I’ll have you two work together then, Katherine has a new program to present and I think we should all work on it. Polish the presentation up a bit, rather than just working out of our cups.”
The turn of phrase was one Gwen hadn’t heard before, but she got the idea. Almost everything she’d mentioned to the press had been her just making stuff up. It had worked, but couldn’t sound all that good really. People had probably cut her some slack so far, since the situation was what it was, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do better. Perception counted right now, which reminded her of something, given Deborah was involved.
“Um, Count Goebbels? Deborah and I used to date. We might need to make certain that isn’t a problem, perception wise. Given her current job that might not be surprising, and we’re not together now, but…” But people could be closed minded bigots and when they got stressed they tended to become more conservative, not less. It could turn out to be a problem. As it was the Count stared at her for a while, the whole table and part of the next one closest to them, one holding mainly Westmorlands and a few Constabulary Detectives watched her closely. Oddly enough, they all probably got what was really happening in the scene, though both the Count and Debbie didn’t. Gwen had to cover up for Katherine’s past, even if it made her uncomfortable in the moment.
The man made a face and then shook his head, but didn’t send them away in disgust at least.
“Children today. You know, back in my day people had the decency to hide things like that. Well, it can’t be helped now. If anyone mentions it, just tell the truth and move on. If that doesn’t work, we’ll have Miss Winslow’s department destroy them in the press. That’s in the official job description by the way. Just so you know. We’re managing information flows and public perception.” He sounded so serious that they all just agreed in silence, then the man patted her on the back, his hand lingering a little, until he turned and went back to his own table, seeming content enough about the whole idea.
It was more open than she’d have thought he’d be. Really, Gwen had half been hoping he’d have her fired over it, and she could just go home and hide for a while. A few years maybe? She couldn’t do that though, even if things were suddenly fixed again and no more bombings took place. If she tried, it would probably lead to her losing it and becoming a hermit, unable to cope with anything. The idea was a lot more tempting than she’d have thought it would be even a few months before. Just living in a room or two, maybe reading a lot… Taking up needle work or something. That was a good hobby. Peaceful. Beth had already shown her the basic stitches needed an everything.
Resuming her seat, being careful not to kick Beth in the kidney as she swung into place, most of the table looked away from her, as if embarrassed. The only one that really stared was Deborah, and she didn’t say anything at all for a long time. The hostess came with menu’s, which was a good enough distraction she guessed and people started chattering about what was good on it.
At the far end of the table Robert winked and looked around happily.
“I come for the Hamburg sandwiches myself. I don’t know if any of you would have had a chance to try them though, this is the only place around here you can get them.” He sounded sure of that, as if he’d checked.
Billy looked over at Gwen and gave a soft laugh.
“Wait, they have hamburgers here? Do they have cheese fries? Please tell me they have cheese fries. Oh, and milkshakes?” He looked like a five year old promised a pony for Christmas, which was enough to get everyone paying attention to him, instead of trying to ignore the elephant in the room that her having admitted dating Deborah was.
Not that she’d had a choice. They couldn’t afford a real scandal just then and if that meant her stepping down or having to do something different, she had to just suck it up. Worse she hadn’t even gotten a date out of the woman herself, and now half the room would think they were an item. That was fine, but the other half probably thought she was cheating on Beth with her.
It wasn’t really true though, enough people knew the actual story to get the idea of what was really happening, she hoped. Maybe they could lead the others into not thinking her some kind of woman loving rebel or something. Katherine had been a lot more of a free spirit than Gwen was, and it had been messing with her the whole time she’d been in this new world. It didn’t look to be getting better either.
Robert looked at Billy and smiled happily, even though what he’d said had used some terms that were doubtless unfamiliar to everyone.
“You’ve had Hamburg sandwiches before?” It was a politely interested thing, the kind of question that got asked when you didn’t really know someone, and didn’t want to put them on the spot.
Billy, looked at the man coldly, then nodded as if they were discussing the merits of using a garrote compared to a six inch blade for assassinations. He spoke slowly, as if having to remind himself to use actual words, the bit of accent he had fading totally.
“Yeah, where I come from they’re pretty common. I didn’t get to have a lot of them growing up, since, well, I was in a situation that didn’t allow for that kind of thing very much.” He looked at Gwen and then back at Robert with a look that held a lot more meaning than casual conversation should at the dinner table.
“When I was about sixteen though, about six months before I got shuffled over to this place, I met a girl. A woman really, older than I was by a few years. She was… Great. We’d get Hamburgers and split a milkshake. She really liked chocolate. It was just about the best time of my life, though the way it ended wasn’t great. So, when I can, I try to think of her and have something similar to that.” He looked down at the table, sadly, but without tears in his eyes.
No one said anything for a while, but when the server came and they all ordered, Gwen tried to explain the concept of a milkshake to the young man that came out. He wasn’t a normal waiter, she didn’t think, probably a dish washer that they’d slapped a jacket on to try and make it seem like they had enough staff to handle the sudden increase in customers. He wrote slowly and checked the orders three times each, but couldn’t figure out how to write up a milkshake at all. It wasn’t a menu item after all. Or even something he’d had someplace else. Billy didn’t seem to mind overly though, happy enough to take what they actually offered it seemed.
It took nearly an hour for the food to start coming, the King and his table getting to go first, which seemed about right to Gwen. If she were running the place that’s what she would have done. It meant people had to talk, which was more than a little awkward, almost everyone still acting as if Gwen was going to jump up and start kissing Deborah at any moment, so things turned towards Robert Vernor. His current project was all about setting up an emergency worldwide shipping system for goods and relief programs.
“I was going to get Ethyl to arrange that part of things, but she’s been added to the groups of people looking for devices in emergencies. I was rather surprised at that. I can’t say it rests easy on the mind, but I won’t say no. We all have to serve at a time like this.” He sounded worried about it and looked at his wife, who didn’t make eye contact at all, with anyone.
Gwen could see it suddenly and shook her head a bit. Katherine wouldn’t let her mother do that, would she? It took a few seconds to work out a way to protect the woman without forcing her to lose face, or lose one of their best leaders, but the idea seemed sound enough, once it occurred to her.
“That was a one up thing, because she’s going to need the first hand experience, if she’s going to be in charge of allocating emergency resources and personnel. It’s a lot of work, but I hope you’ll consider doing it Mother? We can go through your contacts later and find one of your charity cohorts to head up the fund raising and donation centers, if that’s alright?”
The woman beamed as if she’d been given candy instead of more work to do, but her words were serious and subdued.
“We can do that. I think I have some people in mind for the position. I hadn’t thought about it, but there are, no doubt, a lot of people that want to help, as soon as they realize it’s allowed at all. That’s the big stumbling block, people not knowing they’re allowed to help or what to do exactly.”
The rest of the meal went more smoothly, and the burgers came out with no fan fare, but on actual buns. They weren’t the soft rolls that would normally have been served back home, but it wasn’t toasted bread either. Billy seemed happy enough about it. He ate without speaking, closing his eyes occasionally. It was a good thing, Gwen figured. Half of what he’d said was a bit too pointed and dangerous, since she was supposed to be Katherine, not his long lost twin sister born two years before he was somehow. She really needed to get that story out of him and check with Beth to make certain he wasn’t just lying about the whole thing. He really did seem to know a lot about her world and she kind of thought that Billy might have grown up to look a bit like the man next to her. That could just be imagination, since they’d hardly known each other. The rest of what he was saying just seemed to be too coincidental.
They were related? OK, Westwood hadn’t been that large of a town, but she’d had parents and they’d loved her, hadn’t they? It had seemed like it, though after a while they’d kind of pulled away from her and her health problems. Was that because, like Billy had said, they were just paid to do a job? That wasn’t exactly comforting to hear. Not that anything about her life ever was.
She’d just finished the last of the potato rounds she was planning on eating, leaving half of them on the plate, hunger not being a big concern with all the stress she was feeling, when she happened to look over her shoulder across the room. The figure standing there was staring, not at her, but at Beth. The face was set and a little angry, the woman wearing a suit of clothes that looked like a shiny version of a men’s business suit, with a frilly pink shirt on underneath. The hair was exactly the same as she remembered it at least.
Erin Debussey.
Gwen didn’t explain anything, just letting out an inarticulate cry and nearly falling over as she tried to get off the bench, calling out something about Debussey, not knowing if anyone else would see the woman or not. It was probably her imagination, she knew, but that wasn’t going to prevent her from trying to catch the woman and double checking, even if it did make her look more insane than normal. She sprinted past the tables, a few people starting to stand and a few armored Westmorlands pointing lances at the door. The correct door, but they didn’t fire, meaning the woman had a chance to run out while people tried to sort what the heck was going on. The gold and copper colored suit vanished around the corner towards the front door, making Gwen run faster.
She didn’t know if anyone was following her, and kind of doubted it, since guarding the King would be the first priority here for most of them, including the servers and the Vernor’s. She saw Erin at the front door, because the woman had opened it, but then turned to wait for her, as if trying to be sporting about the chase. It was definitely her however. The woman didn’t smirk or anything, but her eyes went wide in panic, glancing over Gwen’s shoulder even as she kept charging. If it was meant to get her to stop, or slow, looking back, it wasn’t going to work. The woman was a psychologist, but hadn’t had a lot of time to learn who or what Gwen really was. They’d only met a few times after all. The worst part there was that Gwen had actually kind of liked her. They probably had a lot in common, once you looked past the insane part of things where Debussey wanted to destroy the whole world using some ancient gods and then planned to rule whatever was left.
Because, yeah, that was going to work. How anyone really thought they’d take over from the incredibly powerful beings that just loved to destroy like that had never made sense to Gwen. Even in stories and movies it never worked. Maybe it did here though? She hadn’t read a lot yet, being too busy so far. Did the stories here talk of it as a wonderful and sensible plan or something? If so those stories were most likely wrong.
