security officer. She hoped she'd got it right. She hadn't managed to get a very good look at them. She snickered. She had done exactly what he suggested: turned him into Security. And herself as a maintenance robot—that was appropriate too.
They walked on. A security officer ran past in a cross corridor, and one of the purple boys ran down towards them, saw them and fled. "They didn't realize who we were," crowed Pausert.
"Shut up and keep walking," hissed Goth.
They got to the little door. "It's shut! The key is gone."
"No farther than my pocket," said Goth. "Now let's get out of here before they come back."
So they did, carefully locking the door behind them. "Maybe we should leave it open. Give the others a chance," said Pausert.
"Just like they were giving you one," said Goth. "Come on. I am ravening. It'll serve them right."
"Rapport's father will get them off anyway," said Pausert. "He's a big cheese with the council."
"Smelly, is he?" said Goth.
That reduced the youthful Pausert to laughter. "Vala! You're amazing."
"Yeah," said Goth. "And hungry, too. Come on. Let's go and eat."
Chapter 5
So they walked together into downtown Nikkeldepain City. You could see, right then and there, that Nikkeldepain was big on order. Probably law too, Goth reflected, but certainly order. The streets were straight, neat, and very uniform. All the shop-signs were the same size, precisely. People all wore clothes that were the same style and cut, within a certain range. Goth used a little light-shift to subtly alter her own appearance. Captain Pausert had never been too good on dress and noticing. She just had to remember what Sunnat had worn—and he had barely noticed. Hulik too, although to be fair, the Imperial agent hadn't really been after the captain, like that Sunnat had.
They stopped at a pastry cook. "He's probably going to ask to see the money," said Pausert.
"Then I'll show it to him," said Goth. The problem with 'porting things was first the energy it used, and second that it really helped if she knew exactly what she was teleporting. When she'd teleported Wansing's jewels around she'd been able to see them. That was easy. She'd watched the Syrians load the cargo she'd teleported from their holds. Things she couldn't see in closed drawers was a bit like guess-work. You had to visualize them quite carefully.
Sure enough, the pastry-cook took one look at Pausert and demanded to see the money first. "I know you. You'll be like that Threbus," said the shopkeeper.
"And what was wrong with Threbus?" demanded Goth, taking offense.
"And who are you, missy? Never seen you before," said the sharp-eyed proprietor. "Anyway, unless you have money to spend, out. Or maybe just out anyway. You lower the tone of the place, just by being here."
"I have money to spend," said Goth, letting hunger help her to hold her temper. It wasn't holding it very tight.
"Let's see it."
So Goth focused her mind on his cash box. Then it was merely a case of taking something the right size from it. 'Porting it into her pocket. She pulled it out.
The shopkeeper's eyes bulged. "How . . ."
Goth looked at her hand, and then hastily returned what she had 'ported to the drawer. But it was a bit late for that. It was time for turning and running.
They ducked into a side street.
"What was that picture?" asked Pausert. He hadn't seen it too well, apparently, to Goth's relief.
"I really don't know," she said. "But I would avoid going back there for a while."
She had the locality of the cash-box now. And her second attempt did feel a bit more like cash. She knew that Pausert would look on it as theft, so she did a quick check to see what she had. A twenty-mael note. Well, she had one of those. If the pastry cook didn't spend it in a hurry, he would be all right. Anyway, it would serve the shopkeeper right for keeping that sort of picture under his money.
"I can't really afford to buy pastries anyway," admitted Pausert. "There is a
They walked on. A security officer ran past in a cross corridor, and one of the purple boys ran down towards them, saw them and fled. "They didn't realize who we were," crowed Pausert.
"Shut up and keep walking," hissed Goth.
They got to the little door. "It's shut! The key is gone."
"No farther than my pocket," said Goth. "Now let's get out of here before they come back."
So they did, carefully locking the door behind them. "Maybe we should leave it open. Give the others a chance," said Pausert.
"Just like they were giving you one," said Goth. "Come on. I am ravening. It'll serve them right."
"Rapport's father will get them off anyway," said Pausert. "He's a big cheese with the council."
"Smelly, is he?" said Goth.
That reduced the youthful Pausert to laughter. "Vala! You're amazing."
"Yeah," said Goth. "And hungry, too. Come on. Let's go and eat."
Chapter 5
So they walked together into downtown Nikkeldepain City. You could see, right then and there, that Nikkeldepain was big on order. Probably law too, Goth reflected, but certainly order. The streets were straight, neat, and very uniform. All the shop-signs were the same size, precisely. People all wore clothes that were the same style and cut, within a certain range. Goth used a little light-shift to subtly alter her own appearance. Captain Pausert had never been too good on dress and noticing. She just had to remember what Sunnat had worn—and he had barely noticed. Hulik too, although to be fair, the Imperial agent hadn't really been after the captain, like that Sunnat had.
They stopped at a pastry cook. "He's probably going to ask to see the money," said Pausert.
"Then I'll show it to him," said Goth. The problem with 'porting things was first the energy it used, and second that it really helped if she knew exactly what she was teleporting. When she'd teleported Wansing's jewels around she'd been able to see them. That was easy. She'd watched the Syrians load the cargo she'd teleported from their holds. Things she couldn't see in closed drawers was a bit like guess-work. You had to visualize them quite carefully.
Sure enough, the pastry-cook took one look at Pausert and demanded to see the money first. "I know you. You'll be like that Threbus," said the shopkeeper.
"And what was wrong with Threbus?" demanded Goth, taking offense.
"And who are you, missy? Never seen you before," said the sharp-eyed proprietor. "Anyway, unless you have money to spend, out. Or maybe just out anyway. You lower the tone of the place, just by being here."
"I have money to spend," said Goth, letting hunger help her to hold her temper. It wasn't holding it very tight.
"Let's see it."
So Goth focused her mind on his cash box. Then it was merely a case of taking something the right size from it. 'Porting it into her pocket. She pulled it out.
The shopkeeper's eyes bulged. "How . . ."
Goth looked at her hand, and then hastily returned what she had 'ported to the drawer. But it was a bit late for that. It was time for turning and running.
They ducked into a side street.
"What was that picture?" asked Pausert. He hadn't seen it too well, apparently, to Goth's relief.
"I really don't know," she said. "But I would avoid going back there for a while."
She had the locality of the cash-box now. And her second attempt did feel a bit more like cash. She knew that Pausert would look on it as theft, so she did a quick check to see what she had. A twenty-mael note. Well, she had one of those. If the pastry cook didn't spend it in a hurry, he would be all right. Anyway, it would serve the shopkeeper right for keeping that sort of picture under his money.
"I can't really afford to buy pastries anyway," admitted Pausert. "There is a
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