The Sorceress of Karres by Eric Flint, Dave Freer Page B

into someone unobtrusive. No-shape on crowded public transport really didn't work.
    A frumpish old lady appeared on the platform—she looked rather like the woman who had called the police earlier. Goth needed models to get the light-shift right and she figured this one would do fine. She started to run, and then slowed to a hasty shuffle when she realized that frumpish old ladies usually didn't run as if an enraged bull-bollem was after them.
    She boarded the monorail car. It was fairly full, but Nikkeldepain folk were generous about letting an old lady past, or even offering her a seat. She politely declined the offers and made her way to the back door, which was intended as an exit. In typically orderly Nikkeldepain fashion all the cars had a forward entry door and a rear exit. And people were of course scrupulous about using them as intended.
    Nikkeldepain had some good points, if you liked everything done just so. Goth had often wondered what made the captain, and indeed, to a lesser extent, her father, behave as they did. The answer was obviously growing up on Nikkeldepain. Whatever else she achieved back in time, Goth realized that she was learning a lot about what motivated Captain Pausert. That was probably a good thing, she supposed, given that she was going to marry him.
    The car jolted, and, just before it took off, three panting red-faced passengers forced their way into the crowded monorail car. They were looking around, and looking puzzled.
    Grizzled-whiskers was talking into his wrist communicator. There were various shields available that could scramble the satellite-tracking. Goth wished she'd thought of getting herself one. She could 'port the communicator elsewhere. But that would be quickly replaced, and Goth didn't want to advertise her klatha powers further than she had to.
    Her pursuers began making their way down the car towards her as the car sped on toward its next stop. The Nikkeldepain citizenry were much less polite to the three now pushing their way through the crowd. They weren't old or infirm, and they were lacking in manners, as far as the locals were concerned.
    The car slowed and stopped at the next station. Goth stood up and got off along with five or six others, as the pursuit pushed their way through. The automatic door mechanism wasn't a complicated one, and Goth had had a few minutes to study it. She 'ported the person detector away, and joined the group walking off, as behind them the three struggled with the door. The car began to move again. The door was closed and the car's safety system said that it could.
    When they were out of sight, Goth turned back and waited for the next monorail car. Given the way the system worked, they'd be getting off at next station to come back at the same time that she got on at this one—unless they were sharp-witted enough to wait for her, or to split up, of course. She'd deal with that if they were.
    The car rolled and swung on, on a rail to somewhere. Goth had no idea where it was going, or what she would do when she got there. She was also not at all sure about the strange box in the carrier-bag. Was it their "map"? And, if so, where was it a map to?
    The monorail car slowed to a halt again. Goth looked warily up from her reverie and saw a familiar, heart-warming sight. The lattice ship, its gaudy synthasilk covering bright in the morning sun, decked out with bunting and flags. She nodded to herself. Spy lock or no spy lock, let them try following her around the lattice ship. Here on Nikkeldepain she was the one who didn't know where she was going. And security on the lattice ship was fairly tight for areas that were off-limits to the paying public.
    She set off with the crowd who were obviously heading for the morning show. No-shape wasn't really an option right now, so she settled for buying a stalls ticket and a box of CarniPops. There was no food value in them, but if she couldn't enjoy some artificial flavorants for old-times' sake, then