Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel (33 page)

Clara
looked at her, and made a bit of a face, and then, after a bit, shook her head.

"Oh,
and he isn't
really
supposed to be watching us then?"

Gwen
nearly said no, and growled at the woman for being dense, but instead just
shook her head.

"Nope.
If he wants to watch us naked, he'll have to be clever about it, and sneak in,
just like a normal boy. We need to keep up standards after all." She
smiled, but didn't know what Clara would say about that at all.

The
other woman nodded.

"I
get it. Don't worry, I'll charge a met to get in the door to watch you Miss.
Though for that price you should put on a show. Special tools, and that kind of
thing. Else wise it won't seem professional, will it?" The face on the
slow woman was perfectly flat, even as she walked into her room and shut the
door behind her.

Gwen
could swear she heard gentle laughter, but it ended when she shut her own door.

After
all, it wasn't serious. She could just tell the kid no. Besides, what did she
know about "special shows" like that? Not a blessed thing, that was
what.

The
slow pace of things didn't show the next day at all. In fact, Gwen nearly felt
rushed, which was a rare thing for this new place. The biggest part of things
was that, even though they'd been promised six students to try out the program,
they had closer to sixty show up. Mainly people, young men and a few women,
that wanted to try things out for themselves.

Along
with not one, but
three
sets of Newsies, there to watch it all, and
broadcast it. Because that was what people wanted to know about. It wasn't
enough to be told that it would be painful, awful, and nearly evil. No, they
all needed to check it out, first hand. Except for the fact that, after the ten
Westmorlands walked into the place, six of them with various gear and two that
had come just to watch and take notes on things, almost everyone got suddenly
uneasy and uncomfortable.

Gwen
made herself smile.

"Hey,
everyone. What we're going to do today will be set up out back. We cleared a
shed for it. That's to keep the screaming from bothering the people in the
house. I don't know what you all expect this to be, but you're probably going
to leave thinking a lot less of yourselves. Come on." Did she sound angry?

Probably.
Most of these people were acting like ghouls. They'd come to see a freak show,
so they could claim they were progressive and open minded. Well, they could
have that. Gwen let the Westmorlands do their thing, and got some breakfast
along with Peter and Bethany. She didn't really need to hear the screams and
moans. She did, as she'd considered doing, suggest that people volunteer to do
it without the benefit of being able to quit. Three of the first six tried it
that way. Reggie was one, which was a lot tougher than she'd figured he would
be.

That
meant, an hour later when she and the others finally worked their way out to
the large barnlike structure that had been emptied out, there were three people
left working on learning to resist mesmerism. The others had given up,
apparently after the first few hits of pure pain. It was a lot worse than most
would imagine it being, so she didn't really blame them for it.

The
press was still there, and about half of the people. The rest had taken off
already, learning that they weren't nearly as hard core, or as sick, as they'd
thought they were. It restored part of her faith in humanity. Out of the whole
group, only one or two of the men seemed to be getting off on the idea of
others being hurt like this. She tried to memorize the faces. People like that
might just show up again later, given her current line of work. Finding killers
and the like.

As
the day wore on, she and the others spent most of it in the house, leaving only
the Newsies and the three screaming and crying men. Slowly, or really, very
quickly, they all learned to resist being taken over when someone else forced
themselves into their minds. When they felt even the tickle of someone working
their way in, they responded with fear and terror, expecting huge pain to
follow. It was primitive really, as far as conditioning went. One of the few
things where simply being panicked about something did the trick.

Thinking
about it, Gwen wondered if it could be used for weight loss too? Or to help
people stop smoking? If you were willing to go full out like this, you could
make a person afraid of food, or think that cigarettes caused pain directly. That
would, most likely, do the trick. Most of the things that the Westmorlands did
had to be a lot more complicated, but that was classified information. Even she
didn't really know what the higher level things were, and she'd been around
them a lot, as a group.

It
was almost as bad watching this happen as it had been to live it. Or at least
that's what she told herself, wincing and moaning a bit in sympathy each time a
new wave of pain hit one of the poor test subjects.

The
truth was, there was no comparing the two things. Not by any stretch of the
imagination. She wanted to think that she cared for others as much as she did
herself, but if it came down to it she'd sell them all out in an instant, to
avoid that kind of pain again. Except, of course, she wouldn't. Would she?

It
was Manly that proved that to her. He was a thin man, and wearing the same
uniform as the others, but the instant he stood in front of her, she winced in
remembered pain, and felt sick. Just from seeing his face. It wasn't that he
was wrong, or ugly. It was just what he'd done to her. To help her.

She
hated him for that and it was all she could do to not hit him, as he smiled,
and slapped a small coin sized disk onto the back of her hand. It was white, on
the top and a dull, lead colored, gray on the bottom. She didn't have to pry at
it to understand that it wasn't going to come off either.

"Fuck."
She glared at it and then him, but the man just took a deep breath and nodded.

"Teletransport
should be within your range of abilities, but it's a real training course. I
spoke with Bethany, and she told me what you intend to do. If you can learn
to... Replace rifting with devices, it will benefit us all. I... I'm very sorry
about all this. It isn't fair." They were standing in the shed still, and
no one was paying any attention to her at all, in particular. Reginald and the
other two men were all clearly learning to stop some of the most powerful minds
in the world, and that, even if there was screaming involved, was fascinating
the press people to no end.

Gwen
wondered if any of them would be willing to try it? She doubted it.

It
was strange, but one of the other Westmorlands came over then, and looked at
her closely. She was an old woman, and her eyes and face had been seamed with
years of pain, remorse and a thousand other things that no one should have to
live through, Gwen didn't doubt. She looked at Manly and waved him away,
without introducing herself at all. From the way the man scurried off, it
seemed like she was in charge, of something or other.

"I'm
here to teach you to transport yourself from one place to another, instantly.
Very few ever learn to do this, and only a handful do it well. You will. You've
traveled this way before." It wasn't a question, and Gwen didn't have to
ask about it. She'd used spheres for it, after all.

The
woman waited anyway, until she nodded, the screams in the background
distracting her slightly from what was going on. It would, she didn't doubt, be
her turn soon enough. At least if they were running to pattern on this current
training.

"Yes."

"Good.
Now, remember what that was like. Feel the magic, the release of it, in your
memory. The feeling of going from one place to another. What the radiative felt
like."

That
part wasn't too hard to do, but the lady moved her to the far side of the barn
like structure anyway, taking her by the arm.

"In
a few moments, you will try to travel that way. Moving from here, to the front
of the main house. Manly is waiting for you there. If you do that, the pain
will stop. You must Teletransport however, from this device," the old
woman pointed at a small metal box that reminded Gwen a little of a Geiger
counter, if it were painted red. It was about the size and shape of a grade
schooler's pencil box. "To him. If you fail to set your hand on it, after
I tap the button on the top, you will have incredible pain. If you do not make
it to him inside ten minutes, pain will begin and continue to grow worse, until
you manage it, or you die. You must understand this. There is a crisis here,
and you
must
go to Manly in order to survive it. So, capture the feeling
of using a sphere, and think about the release of energy you need to make that
work. Feel how your own information is what needs to be moved, not your body.
Do you have that?"

Gwen
thought about it for a minute, wanting to get it right the first time, and not
have all that pain. The old woman smiled at her sadly and tapped the button,
without giving her time to say yes or no. Pain shot through her, growing
steadily. It seemed to come from her center, rather than her hand, but that's
where it was being generated from, she didn't doubt. That damn coin thing that Manly
had put on her. The jerk.

She
slapped her hand to the top of the box, and the woman stood back, removing
herself from arm's reach. That was, Gwen knew, probably to prevent physical
attack, even though that wouldn't do her any good. After all, Gwen could send
out blasts of energy. Not that it would help her. Right now, she knew, she had
ten minutes to get moving, to the front yard of Park Street, or it was going to
hurt.

A
lot.

She
didn't know how intense pain had to be in order to kill you, but she wasn't
going to doubt that the woman meant what she said. Focusing she tried to remember
using a sphere, and the front lawn, both at the same time. She let the feeling
of it all wash over her, and poured as much energy into the whole thing as she
could manage.

Then,
using her mind's eye, she pushed the little button on the top of her imaginary
sphere.

Which
did nothing. Or, well, for the tiniest moment, she almost felt like she was
there, in front of the place, but it wasn't enough and she didn't really leave
from where she was either.

Gwen
reset, and tried again, which nearly worked, in that she could see the
Westmorland she was looking for. Sort of. Like a ghost, overlaid on the world.

The
old woman spoke, her voice calm and a little rough with age.

"You
have about four minutes left. I suggest you focus."

Gwen
flipped her off with her free hand, but didn't stop trying. She knew enough
about pain to not want more of it, but no matter what she did, it wasn't
working. She could sort of see the front lawn, but that didn't get her there.
She needed to add more energy, she thought. That or she had a mental block that
was stopping her? If so, she needed to get over that fast, didn't she?

When
the pain started, it was only a dull ache at first, slowly growing stronger.
She could tell that she wouldn't be able to really focus, once it got too bad
though, so she tried to put everything she had into it. She focused with her
whole being, and, as the pain got to a level that she didn't think she could
take anymore, screaming at the top of her lungs, she hit the mental button
again.

Only
to find herself there, with Manly.

For
nearly three seconds. Then she was back, and in the worst pain she could
imagine. She couldn't concentrate, it was so bad. It kept getting worse, even
as she listened to the old woman, who was yelling to be heard over the screams.

"Focus!
You nearly had it. Do it again. Now! Do it or die! Now!"

Gwen...
did. She was there, suddenly, not remembering how she did it at all. Standing
next to the man in dark blue, who hit at her, tapping her left hand with a
small silver paddle. The pain ended then, suddenly.

She
celebrated by passing out. Unfortunately, instead of coming to in a comfortable
bed, or even on a nicely manicured lawn, she found herself back in the little
shed, listening to Reggie and his pals yell and bellow. The Newsies were all looking
at her now, and one held a microphone toward her face.

"Miss
Farris, are you all right? How do you feel?" It was Will Werner, from WGN.
Normally they were, if not friends, then at least amiable acquaintances. At
this moment it took work not to stand up and kick the man in the balls.

How
did she feel?

Well,
the pain was gone, but that didn't last long, since the old woman tapped the
button again.

"Five
minutes this time."

She
didn't get to chat with Will, but only had to find the same place, in the front
of the house. On the good side, she made it that time, with only enough pain to
make her scream, and not lose consciousness.

On
the bad, she was taken back to the shed almost instantly. The time frame got
shorter and shorter, but, unlike the other times that she'd done things like
that, after the first ten iterations, she was actually allowed to rest. In
order to eat something. Not that she was hungry at all.

Bethany
walked her into the house, and glared at the Newsies that tried to follow
along. It was like guiding a sick person, or one that was very old, Gwen
thought. Her friend held on to her right arm and carried a large portion of her
weight.

"You're
doing very well. I thought you might. That speed flying you did showed great
skill in the right area for it. You need to eat though. I was told you have
twenty minutes."

"Yay.
A whole twenty minutes." She let herself sound bitter, and didn't even
feel happy about having managed to go to the front yard like she had. It was
impressive, she guessed, but all she could think about was the pain to come.
They'd keep pushing her, into harder and more challenging things, not letting
her fail at all.

There
was no getting out of it either. The disk on her hand would probably knock her
out with pain if she tried to take it off, before the course of action was
done. Instead of worrying about that, she just ate what the middle aged cook,
Magda, provided her, sitting in the kitchen itself, not really tasting it. It
was just bread with some butter on it, she thought. No seasonings. Enough to
let her keep going, but not to distract her from what she had to do.