Abominations (14 page)

      No, what bothered her had been what she'd done later.

      Threatening the man with sodomy like in some kind of B-movie? That hadn't made sense at all. Not for real life. That everyone else had gone along with it baffled her just as much. She'd walked in and started threatening the man with what amounted to torture and everyone else had just accepted it. True, the guy had kind of asked for it, but his civil rights were trampled under her own little despotic jackboot.

      Heil Gwen. She'd have to grow a little mustache to keep her image up if that kind of thing kept happening.

      That, of course, had been what had thrown her off, it being like a movie or something. A game. She hadn't accepted any of this as real yet. Everything seemed too different. Even the doorknobs and toilets were different. The doors opened when you put your hand on a metal plate, registering who you were, not needing a key for some reason, otherwise they barred your way solidly, without a physical locking mechanism that she could see.

      The toilets looked similar to back home, but didn't use water, not for flushing. You sat and did your business, then a stream of water hit you when you were done, after that a stream of warm air, combining to leave you clean and dry. The waste just vanished somehow. She couldn't see any outlet for it at all.

      The sinks were normal, except that you ran your hand between two metal plates without touching anything to turn it on and off, instead of turning a knob.

      Everything had been like that. It felt familiar, even looked about right if very old fashioned, but at the same time it worked just a little bit differently. She'd noticed that everything seemed to be made of metal, wood, or glass, with only a hint of rubber being used. She hadn't realized how much plastic her normal world contained until she saw a world without it. What this meant for her, right now at least, was that she just couldn't accept it as reality.

      So instead, she'd been treating this whole experience as if it were a television program with her as the main character, or maybe a videogame. So far that had worked, no one had gotten killed or sent to prison or whatever this world did when you really messed up, but she had to remember to play it smart, treat it like a mystery, instead of a sit-com, or else she'd end up being killed by something for real. Maybe a fantasy novel instead? She had to learn more about this world and make herself adapt no matter how hard it was to do, or how awkward she felt. To do anything else would probably cause her to fold in on herself and simply withdraw from it all. Gwen could see that happening if care wasn't taken to fight against it.

      She'd seen a documentary a few months before about Amish kids that tried to leave the farm, and how most of them couldn't adapt to the modern world because everything seemed too different, too alien and new. They either went back to their old life or stopped leaving the house altogether and froze in place.

      Gwen thought about her old life, how she'd spent most of the time inside her small house, even going as far as to have the groceries delivered for a while, because no one wanted to see her out in public. She'd gone weeks, months even, at a time without leaving the safety of home. Finally forcing herself to leave, attend martial arts lessons and go to the store, making the world deal with her and what she was, instead of hiding herself away.

      Attacks came and sometimes pain. Hurtful words, brutality, and hostility, things that you didn't see on television often at all, since everyone on TV was always pretty. Even the ugly people. The few times she'd tried to get help no one believed her about the things that happened to her regularly. She'd show up with bruises and cuts on her face from the latest attack and the police ignored her, saying they couldn't do anything about it, not even bothering to check into the attacks. Oddly, the police had also told her not to retaliate a few times, even as they hinted they didn't think there was anything to her claims. Basically a high handed way of telling her she was too ugly to matter at all. They'd protect the better looking people from her, but never the other way around.

      Her own parents had thought she'd done it to herself after the first few attacks, in some kind of bid for attention, not understanding how the world really worked. Maybe regular people, attractive people, just couldn't see it. Like white people that couldn't believe that the police might go after others harder because they weren't the right color. She'd finally stopped telling them about the things that happened if she could hide it.

      If she could survive that, she decided, this new world wouldn't break her. Gwen nodded, lying on her back in the unfamiliar room, on a strange bed, in a strange place. She'd adapt, learn the ways of this place and overcome any obstacle it put in her way. If she failed, then... fine.

      As long as she never gave up. Anyone could fail, or not be good enough, but not everyone would bother to try and keep trying. That's all she really had here. The ability to try.

      On that note, feeling better for the decision not to give up, she rolled over and went back to sleep.

      When she came out of the room several hours later, the clock on the wall seemed to say it was six in the morning, which felt like a respectable time to get up here, so she softly knocked on Bethany's door. After a few moments she heard stirring inside.

      “Come in.” A sleepy voice came from beyond the door.

      When she entered the other room she found it to be just as small as her own, the bed identical, even the blankets matched exactly, pattern and all. At least her little room wasn't some tiny servants quarters thing then. Either all the rooms here were like this, or the little apartment was just that low rent. It worked, but Gwen felt better knowing she wasn't being treated like a second class citizen. She moved toward the glow lamp on the wall, her hand poised in front of the activation plate.

      “I'm going to turn on the light, are you ready?” She asked, because she hated it when people suddenly flipped on lights in the morning herself, leaving her half-blind for a while, eyes hurting.

      “Ready,” Bethany said from the bed. When the light turned on, Gwen saw Beth lying on the bed, covers half off, right hand over her eyes protectively.

      They cleaned up and got ready quickly. She had to have Bethany help her with some of the fastenings on her clothing, since they'd obviously been designed for a woman that had a lady's maid to help her dress. She'd need to get new clothing soon, if she could afford it, since most of the stuff that Mr. Vernor had brought her the day before, while obviously high quality, didn't really lend itself to her current lifestyle and certainly not to her old one. At this rate Beth was going to have to take care of her at least as much as the other way around.

      Bethany suggested that they stop at a small cafe to eat, since they didn't have any food in the apartment at the moment. It made sense to Gwen since she didn't really know how to cook here yet anyway and apparently Bethany's culinary skills weren't that much better. They found a little place near the district house which opened for breakfast and ate in what seemed a leisurely fashion, with several courses coming, each one having only a small bit of food on the plate and brought one at a time. She found herself full before the last of the food came and told Bethany this.

      “Of course, after your recent wounds that makes sense. Do you mind terribly if I finish the last course? I... well, you understand, I'm sure.” The other woman looked at the small roll that the waitress brought her hungrily.

      Gwen smiled, trying not to grimace. She did get it, since the woman had probably been nearly starving, literally, for weeks or longer. She looked thin, her clothes loose on her, even after she'd had Gwen help her tighten what she could before they left.

      When it came time to pay, Bethany pulled a single bill, clearly marked with a one on it and handed it to the waitress, who left and returned with a handful of change a few minutes later.

      “Uh, Bethany? How much did this cost? I'm trying to get a sense of what things are worth here...” She tried not to look baffled or confused but couldn't help it at the moment.

      “Oh! Certainly. I keep forgetting that you're not from here, you seem to blend in so well. The meal came to ten decs each, I handed the waitress, we call them waitresses here, the female servers at restaurants, a one metric dollar note and she returned eighty decs.” Bethany quickly described how the monetary system worked, everything breaking down into ones or tens, they did have hundred met notes, but those were rare.

      Gwen asked the price of a few other things, rent, clothing, food at a grocery store.

      Bethany rolled out numbers that seemed ridiculously small to her.

      “So the two of us could live on a few hundred dollars a month without hardship? Um, mets, I mean.” She finally asked, the other woman nodding.

      “Yes, and live well. Really, we could both live on the twenty-five mets you're making as my caretaker if it came to that. My salary will keep us both without issue at all and what you collect in stipend is simply amazing. I think you may be the richest person I've ever known personally. I probably shouldn't tell you this, you'll leave and then I'll end up stuck in analytical work mode again, starving and being pawed by Haversham.” She actually sounded worried, Gwen could tell, so she tried to put the other woman's mind to rest on the issue. It wasn't something she was good at, putting people at ease, but Beth had been through a lot over the last months. It was probably nearly as bad as what Gwen had to deal with. Maybe worse. At least Gwen could respond to the new world she was thrust into and didn't just have to take everything passively.

      “Not a chance. For one thing you're the only friend I have here so far. For another I need you to help me catch the freaks that tried to kill me. Even after we find them and bring them down, I have to learn the rules of this world, how to get along.” She stopped at the restaurant's door for a moment as they walked out.

      “Bethany... this place is so strange and bizarre to me. People here think you're strange, because of what you can do, but if they got to know more about me they'd see how normal you really were.” She grinned at the other woman. “Now, let's go have a word with some people before we start work for the day, yes?” She held the door for the detective, waving her past.

      Bethany nodded and agreed with that plan, a small smile on her own lips.

      Even though the hour seemed early to Gwen, most of the others were already in the office. After setting their bags down on Bethany's desk, they went directly to Peals' office, Bethany letting Gwen knock for her.

      “Come in,” Peals voice rang out.

      Inside, Gwen pushed the door shut. Before she could say anything, Bethany started speaking, her voice fairly friendly and cultured sounding to Gwen's ear.

      “Chief Constabulary Detective Peals. So good to finally get to speak to you openly. I'm Bethany Westmorland, Constabulary Detective for now, though I have training in several other fields, as you may know. What you don't know about me is that I've been stuck in a conditioned work mode for the last six months... without a break.” She held up a hand.

      “I'm not blaming you. My last caretakers handled things poorly, probably out of prejudice or ignorance and didn't let you know that I had other capabilities. My new associate, Miss Farris, is quite a bit more intelligent than the last and quickly figured out how to induce a regular state, allowing for greater communication.”

      She sat delicately and motioned for Gwen to do the same.