Monsters, p.26
Monsters, page 26
part #2 of Gwen Farris Series
“Out in the open an explosive can kill, but probably won’t do much to those paying attention and being cautious. Contained they’re far more deadly, so look for things under solid objects, hidden in places where the damage done will have emotional impact.”
She ended with a piece about not giving in to fear, just observe, alert people in the area, get distance from the devices and report it to the authorities. Then she waved Dominique Goebbels in, for a cute little speech about the Service Union and how everyone should do their part. She sounded nervous and her voice shook a bit, but it made Gwen want to lend a hand, so maybe it would affect a few others that way too?
After that, as if by some miracle, Gwen was allowed to actually go to bed. It was early for it, but nearly a day too late for her anyway. She half expected something to happen, in retaliation for having dared to explain to people what to do, but nothing came of it. In fact she didn’t wake up until nearly twelve hours later, Beth pushing on her arm a little, whispering her name. She shot bolt upright and curled a fist, but didn’t lash out. Waking up like that when touched had been a habit ever since those people had tried to sacrifice her. It was like almost being killed had actually affected her or something. Go figure?
“Gwen… You need to get up now. The funeral for the Duke is in two hours and we’ll have to travel to it. I…” She didn’t finish the sentence, and didn’t need to. The death had clearly hurt her on a very deep level. Worse, it seemed, than what Gwen felt about it… and that was pretty crummy. After they showered and dressed, in black, just like at home, a dress for Gwen and a black uniform for Bethany, the true tenor of the day started to show.
The Special Service operatives all waited for them in the main room, all dressed in black uniforms and frowning. They looked miserable. The whole team was there, the whole contingent that had been responsible for the Duke of Aubrey. It hadn’t been any failure of theirs that lead to his death, but that didn’t seem to be having any impact on them in the moment.
It was like they’d been conditioned for it. To feel absolutely miserable when they lost a charge like that. Gwen didn’t ask about it, because they clearly ached with the loss on a level she couldn’t even begin to imagine. She’d thought she felt bad, but pain was pouring off of each of them at so high a level that she wondered if they’d kill themselves. It had turned on, like a switch had been thrown, at least with Beth. The others hadn’t been there with them for her to observe, having gone to other duties, except Heather. She was quietly crying in the corner of the room, and hugged Gwen tightly when she walked over and spread her arms just a little.
“I…” It hurt to watch it. It didn’t seem needed, but no one sane could doubt it was real. Raw and bitter. All she could do was comfort them and get them moving. She decided to make it her place that day, helping them all.
“First, everyone clean up, wipe your tears and stand up straight. We need to go and do this thing, but we can’t collapse in on ourselves. Erin Debussey did this. Remember that. We each need to be as watchful as possible today to make certain no one else is harmed by her.” It was stupid of course, since they were probably the safest group in the whole Kingdom that day, but Gwen had everyone arm themselves, which none of them had, not even Darrick, and then take a few deep breaths. It didn’t really seem t help, but they looked a little less like they were going to kill themselves after another five minutes of pep talk. Mainly that focused on finding and punishing Professor Debussey.
It seemed as good a plan as any, didn’t it?
Gwen had grabbed her own little PC, a gray bit of metal with a slightly reddish sheen to it. It wasn’t a death weapon like what the others carried, theirs would cast instant death if used. Hers just pushed things back. It did a good job of it, but it wasn’t lethal at all. That was good enough for her though, since she didn’t want to kill anyone today. Not even Erin. Maybe those bombers, if she could find them, but even that was about stopping them from hurting anyone, not just her own anger. Not anymore. The grief around her made the idea of taking a life seem too hard to handle, like it was the worst thing that could ever happen.
That, really, was pretty close to the truth, wasn’t it? What was worse than that? Nothing came to mind for Gwen in that moment, so she passed around the box of spheres that would take them to the lawn of the residence in Aubrey. She didn’t know what to expect when she got there, but it wasn’t what she found waiting at all.
Instead of showing up alone, just standing there and trying to figure out where to go, they were met by a line of twenty people. At first she wondered if the guards were going to attack them all, the black clothing looked intimidating and harsh, but then she noticed the three children standing to the right. They looked scared and cold, even though the day was no more than slightly crisp and would probably even be warm by late afternoon. They were dressed in black too, as were their parents. James, her driver, and Ella, his wife.
Who she’d hired to cook for them all, and then left there, not even crossing paths. Oops.
She walked to them directly and arms open, giving each of them a small hug. It was uncomfortable for her, but Ella responded well, and James awkwardly, as was appropriate to the world they were in. The kids each took a turn and then two girls stepped up, each taking her hand briefly. There was a boy in black too, who she did finally recognize, once she got a good look at him. The stable boy that had been butchering their food. He didn’t even hold out his hand, probably not knowing what to do. Gwen hugged him too, trying to keep it small enough that no one would suspect the poor boy of taking advantage of her. He was only about twelve and seemed pale and drawn. It was probably the first time he’d gone to a funeral of anyone he’d known.
James spoke, his voice rough and sad, even though, as far as she knew, the man had never met the old Duke at all.
“Ma’am. Our hearts go out to you, to all of you. I have a vehicle ready to take you to the cemetery. I didn’t know the numbers…” He gestured to a large black vehicle, it would probably seat ten or so, but that wouldn’t fit everyone by a long shot, not if the Duke’s guards were coming too. She didn’t know what to do about that, but the man in charge walked over and bowed to her.
“We’ve been portioned to watch for your safety ma’am, by the Duke himself. We have some wagons, around back. The horses should be able to keep up, if your driver doesn’t move too quickly?” It would mean an hour of travel, and most of the other people were already there, but it had to be done.
These men had worked for the Duke, guarded him themselves and if they didn’t love him, they’d at least invested time into keeping him safe and well. They didn’t seem as strung out as the Special Service did, but some at least held a grim cast to their faces. The lorrie wasn’t big enough for everyone, so Ella and her helpers all volunteered to ride in the wagons with the children. Normally Gwen wouldn’t have let that happen, thinking that the kids should ride in comfort if possible, but all the Westmorlands seemed so sad she didn’t want to let them out of her sight. Not even for a few minutes.
“Thank you all for your consideration.” She patted arms and hoped that the wagons at least had seats and something approaching suspension. She kind of feared they didn’t. No one complained about it, not to her at least and she managed to get twelve adults packed into the ten person lorrie, people being cozier than normally would have been proper. No one seemed to mind.
Gwen felt oddly safe, being so close to Beth and Heather, who were, as much as she’d ever had anything like it, her friends. There was such a dismal and dark quality to the ride. The mood was catching and by the time they got to the event itself, some five miles from the mansion, Gwen felt like crying.
That was the thing to do at a funeral though, wasn’t it? She pulled out a kerchief and dabbed her eyes. She hadn’t bothered with make-up that morning, and neither had anyone else. The women all looked pale and raw when they unloaded. There must have been nearly three hundred people waiting in the cemetery, including, she saw, the King. The place was packed and given the quality of the black clothing a lot of them had to be at the very least wealthy. It was probably a who’s who list worthy of the best parties. Too bad someone had to die to get them all together.
She took Beth’s hand and led the whole group over to the line where people passed by the casket to view the body. People stared at them, but no one stopped them from doing it or suggested they shouldn’t. It was probably that so many people with them openly cried, even though most of the crowd wasn’t. Gwen stopped in front of the body and murmured something that she hadn’t expected to at all to the corpse inside.
“I’m so sorry.” She hadn’t known the man and what little she’d seen of him was all bad, but she’d failed to keep him alive and it wasn’t his fault that Debussey had made him attack her at that dinner party.
Just like it wasn’t his fault that someone had put a bomb in the casket with him, the ticking of the clock drawing her attention to the man’s waist. She could just see the wires sticking out from under him and a bit of yellow powdery material. Different than what she’d seen before, but still a device that didn’t belong there.
Crud.
What kind of monster would do something like that? She pointed to the wires, making Beth’s eyes go wide.
“Run.” She said, back pedaling fast. About ten feet away she ran into a clump of people, one of whom was Christophe, who stared at her as she hit him.
“Run!”
Chapter sixteen
As she was running away, people following her slowly, Gwen flashed on the idea that she was probably just imagining things, and that this was going to look really stupid as soon as everyone realized it. She looked down and noticed that she was holding on to a hand. Christophe’s. Which meant she was dragging the guy into looking foolish too, at his own father’s funeral. On the other side Beth had his arm and they were moving him along pretty quickly. Even if she was being overly reactive, it was better to get out of the way than to stay and blow up. Gwen couldn’t have stopped running if she had to. Something deep inside told her to move and keep going.
She stopped about a thousand feet away, even though that was probably a lot farther than needed, given what she’d seen so far. Everyone else had gone in different directions, leaving the casket alone. She was out of breath and slightly gasping when it happened, of course, but it did confirm she wasn’t totally insane this time.
The puff that came out of the coffin was white smoke and had only a soft bang, which wasn’t very big at all. The box didn’t even rock with the force of it. Everyone stared, not moving, except to back up just a bit. About twenty seconds later the real explosions happened. Two of them, on opposite sides of the Cemetery. Everyone had moved out of the area by a good ways, which saved their lives, though a few fell down as bits of headstones rained on them.
Gwen grimaced and took a deep breath.
“Darrick, we need to take over this situation immediately. Keep people spread out, but don’t let anyone except the King and his direct guards leave. Beth, what do we need done? Data collection wise I mean? We should question everyone, right?” It made sense, but that wasn’t her job. Right now her job was… She glanced at Christophe who looked drawn and even more pale. Her real job was him, wasn’t it? If she was supposed to be in some kind of relationship with him, no matter how fake it had started out being, or the fact that they’d only even seen each other a few times. There were rules to things like that after all. Gwen didn’t know them all, of course, not really, but she could try and fake it. Right now that meant seeing to whatever he needed as well as making sure she did her job.
She hugged him, even though it was hugely inappropriate for this world. He didn’t seem to mind, though he did turn, moving around so that his body would shield her if another blast came from the same direction. It was cute, though probably not needed. Still, it was one of the very first times anyone had tried to protect her from anything, even after the danger had passed. Most of the rest of those times had been in this world too. The only one that she could remember from her old life had been when Billy had helped her fight those boys. It meant, she realized, that everyone that had ever tried to really be there for her when it counted, was with her now. It was a new world, a bizarre thing where the colors were wrong and the technology just off-putting at times, but that part, the most important thing, was taken care of. She had all the people that really counted.
It was odd, but true enough, she decided.
Gwen spoke firmly, looking at Bethany, who was carefully staring at the whole scene, having dropped into her analytical state when Gwen had suggested data collection. The stare, almost vacant, but searching the whole space, was pretty easy to spot. It was familiar, being how she looked when they’d first met. The King stood surrounded by armor in the distance and winked out with his personal guards, since magic was very useful that way, and not just for criminals anymore. That was a good thing, since it meant the rest of them could just focus on what needed to get done without worrying about him being killed. At least as long as the Special Service had taken him somewhere safe. Heather ran to Beth, and then waited for a while, as the others told everyone to stand in place.
“We need to search for any more devices.” Gwen spoke loudly enough that a few people stared at her. If there had been two more after the first blast, the landscape could be loaded with them. On the other hand, if people just got to walk away without being questioned, they could lose all the clues the scene held.
What they really needed was a crime scene forensics team, the kind from all the television shows that would solve the whole mess in an hour, set to driving music. Gwen smiled and realized that given the music here it would be set to what sounded like slightly upbeat fifties tunes and classical. Heather stared at her, responding to the look on her face no doubt, and Christophe held her hand a little tighter, his breath coming in short panting gasps.
Gwen looked around, noticing that the largest body of people just stood, waiting, clearly frightened out of their minds. If they didn’t really take charge people were going to start leaving. That had to be stopped.
The area was about perfect for their needs. They hadn’t had as good an opportunity to do anything so far, had they? Gwen looked at the red haired woman, who’d snapped out of her glum depression instantly when the attack came, and tried to look triumphant. Morale was important too, so she needed to keep it up. Later though.
“Heather… This place, it’s isolated and one of the devices was placed in the casket itself. That means whoever planted it had access to the body. They could very well still be here. More, even if they aren’t, someone probably saw them do it, even if they aren’t aware that’s what happened. All we’ve had before this was one body and weapon that looked funny and a single bomb. Now we have the memories of everyone that’s here today. This is an incredible break.” It really was too. That or Gwen was talking out of her behind, trying to apply what she wanted to reality, but either way, she fought to sound hopeful. It got a response from the people around them, and the word spread, passing from one clump of people to another, being shouted out.
On the good side that meant everyone knew to stand their ground and not leave.
She started a search pattern, breaking the grave yard into sections, searching each and taking notes on it, marking the grid section off on the little drawing she made as she went along. It took about two hours to search the whole thing herself, but she didn’t find anything at all. The day was bright and got warmer as it went on, but not too hot. They didn’t have any water with them, or snacks, but so far no one had complained. Gwen showed her diagram to Beth before she came out of her analytical work trance and explained it all to her.
“So it’s clear.” She hoped so at least. “Would you come back to your normal state now Beth?” Those words worked well enough, though the Westmorlands had actual code phrases for most of their conditioned states and how to get out of them. Gwen knew the right words now, mostly, but it felt too much like using her friends as if they were machines for comfort. They were people and should be treated as such. Always.
Beth sighed and looked around at the scene, then back at Gwen’s little pad.
“Right, let’s get Doctor Professor Grainger and see what he can pick up, using his new device. We’ve been waiting for this good of a chance to use it for weeks. So far the signs and magical traces have been wiped away by the explosions, or lots of people handling things, but someone specific had to handle the body this morning. Many someone’s, no doubt, but if we can find who didn’t belong…” Her eyes lit then, a sense of power behind them. It was a huge thing. Even if it didn’t work, it was vast, because they could claim it sort of did anyway. That would help control public perception a lot.
Gwen just stood, holding on to Christophe, who looked very young then, youthful and a little lost. He really was, only being eighteen. Not even that for another few months. She almost felt bad about the age gap, but realized that no one else would care about it. She only looked about twenty-two or so, and that was close enough for going on with here. Probably back home too. Especially once he was old enough.
