by P. S. Power
Instead of sitting alone in his room, meditating, he did that as he walked around, seeking what he needed. At about eleven that night, in the dining room, something sort of came up.
That bit was almost shocking to him, Will had to admit. Even through the haze and muteness of his new muted emotions, seeing a walking, talking, child’s toy nearly rocked him back. The furry creature, which was supposed to be a stylized bear, he figured, or some kind of strange dog or wolf, was with a city-tall light skinned man. They both spoke English, which was helpful, since he wouldn’t have figured the brown furry being as an actual person if that hadn’t happened.
Thankfully, even though he was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, just looking in, neither man noticed him for some time, allowing observation first. So when the toy like being turned and spoke to him, Willum wasn’t left stammering and gibbering in confusion.
“Can we help you? There’s food left out, in the front, if you need it.” The voice was a bit brisk, but not angry seeming. Just like that was the only thing that Will could have been there for at all. Instead of just moving off to eat, he faked a smile.
“Hey. I… Actually, I was wondering if you needed any help in here? I can bake, at least in a stone oven, and don’t sleep, so kind of don’t have anything to do. People need to eat though, right?” He did too, but not at a level that meant he was dying at the moment. Apparently these people made a heroic effort to feed their workers regularly. It was late at night, but here people were, keeping things ready.
The thin man, who had a stately nose and soft brown hair, nodded at him.
“That’s actually helpful. You can cook in a fire heated oven? Here, why don’t you make a few things, and we’ll see what you can do? I know, an audition, but it’s important. Plus, we get bored, too. I’m Mark by the way. Team Three. This is Rigsby. Team Four.”
They didn’t hold out hands to shake with him, but at least the one man smiled, seeming to mean it.
“Will. Also Team Three. The new man who just got in today? As to a test of my skills… Why not? I might need help with your equipment, but it shouldn’t be that different really.”
He was wrong of course. Even the leavening ingredients were different. Interestingly, as things came out of the oven that Mark, being a kind soul, taught him to use, he could see that it was superior in many ways to what he was used to working with. At first he was a bit slow, getting things done, but by morning he was put to making all of the bread for the day. That was a lot, since many of the people there ate vast quantities of food. Both he and Rigs, which was what the bear toy being was called, had to stop to eat a few times, but Mark didn’t really have such requirements. At six in the morning, the thin man smiled at him. There was a peaceful expression to go along with it.
“You have the job. Actually, that was pretty good work. Different in some ways, but not bad at all. So, you’re one of the people from a different reality?” It was a statement, though that got him to wince, being caught so simply like he had been.
“Yes. Where did I mess up? I’m not supposed to get caught that easily. Was it my English? I only started learning about a month ago.” Which was true. Less than that, actually, if they were counting only outer world time.
The bear person snorted at him. It was a bit teasing, instead of derisive.
“Well, you started out by talking about stone ovens. People haven’t used those here in about a hundred years. Not that I really got it as being an alternate reality thing. So, you from the same place Hobbs is? They do different stuff like that, right?”
Shrugging, he looked around at the large metal cooling racks filled with product.
“No. I’m from… Have you met Timon or Taman Baker?”
It was interesting, since Rigs looked away, only to have a woman suddenly appear next to him. She was, clearly, a creation of magic, much like a house or space craft might be. She moved in, smiling at him pretty directly.
“I’ve met them. Oh, I’m June. I work in the front office sometimes? Telepath, as well as shape changer, so I look different when I want.”
Mark looked at him closely, but instead of acting like a person appearing out of nothing was strange, Will nodded at her.
“They’re family of mine. From the same alternate reality? I’m here for training. Which clearly I’m failing at. I don’t suppose I can get you two to give me lectures on blending in here? Not mentioning primitive cooking methods… That one makes sense, now that I know about it.” He felt a bit slow, since Merri had used ovens like the ones located here, more or less. These were larger and there were several of them, but the concept was similar.
It also worked really well, since all you had to do was pick the temperature you needed to be baking at, then let the device know what that was. You still had to pay attention, but only about a third of what he was used to doing with baked goods. Also, a lot of the bread recipes that Mark wanted him to make were actually really simple, compared to the ones back home. A bit plain as well, since they were expected to provide seasonings and spreads for things, instead of the bread itself being a stand alone dish.
Then the other men got him to help with things as the place filled with new workers there to prepare for the morning meal, with Mark eventually taking him out to sit and eat, while Rigs did the same. The quiet man, who looked like a normal person, more or less, just had a large cup of black coffee. Rigsby ate a tray filled with food, which seemed sensible. June, after talking to them for a few minutes had walked away. To go and work in the front office.
Running in a tight, but obvious line, the energy tie was solid however. There were three others up and working constantly, as well as what the man needed to keep his furry body running. Interestingly, that portion of things was a magical disguise, hiding the man behind it. Which was brilliantly done. He looked like a small bear creature, of about five feet tall, though well rounded and plump. That was due to the fur however, rather than fat.
The man’s real head was above that, but perfectly hidden from the world. Even knowing it was there, he couldn’t see any distortions from the work being done. It was, in short, just a different magical seeming that the man was casting constantly. The thing there was that Willum was nearly positive that he didn't know that part. Most likely then, no one else there did. Which wasn’t a big deal. Some piece of the man wanted to be seen as he was. There wasn’t anything wrong with that.
Though the idea of what was happening did intrigue him a lot. It wasn’t in any way, his part in things to attempt to shift the other man’s appearance around, naturally. Even allowing the thought into his own mind for an instant, near the back of what he could perceive, sent a ripple of discord into his own head. After all, he was, in some small portion, there to learn how to fit seamlessly with any world he was in. A thing that wasn’t working all that well for him yet.
The trick there was that Rigs was able to project a magical seeming around himself at all times. It was happening on a very deep level of his being, so it was possible for him to hold it without conscious effort. It cost in energy, but so did the other projections that he put forward. What was being done to his own body was very similar to what the disguise amulets did, but acted upon and changed constantly, so that his bear body appeared, if not truly alive, at least like what was intended. Perfectly.
If he could learn to do something similar, it might be possible for Willum to take other shapes as well. Difficult, and not a thing to count on, but even being able to pass for an hour or a day in the right circumstance might make a difference later.
For the time being they ate. The two men with him talking about their own world, as he tried to absorb what was being said constantly. They shared with him for several hours, until Bridget stumbled in, seeming nearly drunk. Her problem wasn’t that, of course. She was just near a state of starvation, her body working constantly at a very high level, even while she slept. It took a bit of focus to read that off of her, but as soon as he got that, he waved for her to sit, at he
r normal spot in the dining hall.
Then he dashed to make her a very large tray of food. It was clear that the small, still fuzzy headed from sleep, lady got what he was doing, but as soon as there were things to eat in front of her, she nodded at him, not even able to truly smile yet. Then she ate. Halfway through her consumption of the food, another woman came in. A larger one, who was still very tiny. Her hair and skin matched Bridget however, and if she was a bit more stable seeming on the outside, her mind and body were still reeling from her own lack of food after the last evening.
She’d been planning to sit in a different area of the space, but complied when he waved at her, getting a large portion of things from the buffet line. The woman, both of them as it turned out, didn’t project anything but gratitude about his actions. It was a bit of a risk, doing things like that, since he wasn’t up on the rules there. Mark nodded at him, then vanished to do something. That part was jarring, since the man actually disappeared, his energy and ideas coming up at a distance from where he’d started.
What came from Rigsby was actually a lot different than the understanding thoughts of Mark. The bear fellow figured that Will had used his powers to work out exactly what would win the ladies over. Possibly into bed. A thing which he figured might even work.
The smaller one, Bridget, was wearing tan again. It was what he had on himself. Not thinking well or not, she’d managed to get magical clothing onto her body, so looked clean and well presented. The other woman was in a gray outfit that said Team Three on the front of it. After the first food was gone, Bridget smiled at him, still not speaking, dashing quickly back to the line to get more.
When she came back, after the other woman did the same thing, sitting across from her, he settled next to them, ready to get more for them, if they needed. The situation felt off to him, which Bridget explained.
“Thanks. Grandma, this is Will Baker. Team Three. Physical, telepathy, probably some other things. We’re going to meet up with Hobbs in a bit, then get him off for testing. Will, this is Rachel Chambers. She helped found the IPB a long time ago. My Grandma.” There was a long pause to eat for a while, then a grin. “We were both called out on a night mission. Just for training. Normally I can at least manage to feed myself in the mornings. I also won’t sleep half the day away like this. What have you been getting up to?” Her brain started to work again, about then, which showed in the concepts coming off of her.
So she didn’t mention where he was from, even to her family member. Not that she was trying to lie, or trick the woman, simply that he was supposed to be learning to seem normal there. That was going to be hard, since Rachel was, by her nature, used to people acting in a certain way. Doing anything else would get her to understand that something at least was going on.
The way around that would be for Will to flirt with her, keeping her distracted.
He smiled to cover the confusion he felt when that idea hit him. It wasn’t wrong, but seemed a bit hard, the girl sending him at her own family like that to manipulate the situation.
Willum made a point of grimacing, his face concerned, if in a slightly over done way.
“You were kept up all night? That’s less than fun. I was here for most of it. I got a job, baking things. Helping with that. Mark and Rigsby showed me the ropes. I used to work in the family bakery back home, growing up.” He stopped there, not wanting to get into the specifics.
Rachel just ate a bit of pancake, which had maple syrup on it, rather than honey. There hadn’t even been that kind of thing put out as an option. Several berry flavored syrups, but not that. Even though, further down the line, by the area where bread was toasted in a machine, after being evenly sliced, there was a container of it. So they knew that kind of thing existed, it simply wasn’t placed on pancakes.
The maple was fine, of course. He’d had some himself earlier. They also had butter, which was normal enough. It tasted a bit funny, but that was down to the fact that salt had been added to it all. It wasn’t bad that way, but it made him feel that it wasn’t perfectly fresh.
Other people were coming in, which after a bit had Bridget waving to someone, who had a tray loaded with fruit and a bowl of hot cereal. The man had a red beard, short red hair and blue eyes. He wasn’t that tall, being about six-feet or less. That part was interesting, since he was, clearly, Prince Alphonse Cordes. The other interesting bit was what Bridget called out then.
“Hobbs! Over here!”
The man smiled at her, his mind rushing to analyze a thousand possible threats. Most of them weren’t physical at the moment. He saw that both Lady Rachel and Bridget were there, sitting near an unknown man. That was the source of concern, since he was being called for. If it took the three of them to subdue the purple haired fellow, then the facility they were in would fail structurally. His own life would, almost certainly, be forfeit. After all, his own sporting gift of causing plants to grow faster was of little use in a battle. He had skills that way, but the two ladies already there were so powerful that between them it might be possible for the entire world to be put to conquest. By them alone.
That might not have worked, but he could think of several ways for it to be effective. Certainly their IPB could, at need, do that, if they worked together. A thing that had not been lost on the governing bodies of the world they stood in.
Willum had focused on the man, he realized, getting a lot more data from him than would have ordinarily been happening. It was that this man was both familiar, if only a little, and clearly a very good fighter. His mind was attuned to that kind of thing constantly, or nearly so.
Summoned, he moved into place, having to resist a bow, since that was not the custom there. Will stood however, doing that anyway, which had the man doing it back. Rachel looked on, curious, but Bridget smirked.
“Hey Hobbs. Sorry I missed meditation earlier. I had a night op. Blame Lancaster for coming up with that. This is Will. He’s new. Team Three. Will Baker. You’re set to teach him how to fight?”
She didn’t add any more, but Hobbs understood that this strange seeming fellow, who was dressed correctly for their custom in the place he stood, was as alien as he was himself.
“Well met. I spoke to your family about you coming here for that. Should we repair away now, to see that begins?” He was a bit hungry, but could go for days, or even weeks, before he’d die of starvation. Timon Baker, a being of nearly insane levels of power, who could shape the life stuff of even those already grown, had requested a boon of him. It made sense to curry such favor.
That the child of a great house, such as Baker, might be entitled and spoiled was very possible. Willful as well. The best he could hope for was that the one before him might take his studies seriously enough that Hobbs wouldn’t look too bad, on later testing.
He also noted, with some approval, that the child wasn’t as young as all that, being a man in body. Also that he’d stood and greeted him. The bowing was strange for the room they were in, but very polite. That meant doing it back, putting his tray down on the table, in case it would have to be left.
Will smiled, then bowed deeper.
“Well met, Master Hobbs. Thank you for agreeing to provide me lessons in your skills. I will strive to do my best to learn them. We can, if it is your will, go and see to that this instant. I see that you have a meal prepared however? It is no hardship to wait upon your orders.” He was being a trace formal, as well as speaking in English, which was messing him up a bit, but the whole thing resonated.
Smiling, a bit closer to meaning it, the man settled then. Uneasy about being so close to Rachel, who was one of the secret high commanders of the IPB. Not that they hadn’t worked together well enough in the past. The woman was harder inside than most would credit her. Bridget was as well. That rang from him as he sat, not speaking for a moment, in case more information would present itself.
That, what the man was doing then, was familiar to Will. He was doing the same thing, after all. Trying to work out what was
actually needed at the moment. In this case it was simple enough, since Bridget finally grinned, looking up from her food.
“We have medical and then testing after this. It’s only his second day and he got in late. Team Three already, since Marcia heard what he can do and just assigned him first thing. I’ve seen enough to get that one is right. He’s quick, and can kind of teleport. You know, between other worlds?” That was directed at Hobbs, but registered with Rachel at the same time.
She put two and two together, got alien from a different reality and parsed the names. Then she nodded.
“Baker. Any relation to the ones we’ve had in here? Tim and Tamara?” The names were put that way on purpose, as a test for him. He should have denied it, but it was clear that Hobbs was ready for some kind of trap to be sprung. If only one meant to humble the noble youth there. It would be foolish, but could be part of the plan. After all, Will was new and had to be taught his place. If that was to be the butt of jokes…
Well, if Lady Rachel sought such, then war it would be.
“Aunt Taman and Uncle Timon. Yeah. I don’t really know them well. Taman better than Tim, since, you know, she’s been responsible for part of my training so far.”
The words got different reactions from the table. The strongest was from Bridget, who just realized that she’d outed her new partner. As being alien, or at least from a different world. The others just seemed interested, but Rachel was the one who spoke about it. Other people were listening however, which meant that his identity was already going to be public there.
Which was a failure on his part. Then, he’d been told to try and make himself seem like he fit, not to trick those around him. That was probably splitting hairs too finely, but still within the letter of his instructions, if not the spirit that he’d been intending. There was real room to improve there.
The older, slightly taller, woman smiled at him then.
