A sudden smatter of gasps and applause drew her attention.
A small crowd, including her young employee and the girls, had formed around a wrinkled eastern man in robes, sitting on the platform floor.
Two knives were sliding back and forth in front of him, apparently by the force of his mind.
Her scowl deepened into a frown.
He was a Falun initiate, one of "The Meek." That Law-wheel cult that had been spreading out of the east.
Personally she cared little for religion and had dismissed these cultists at talented charlatans, but the people of this desert nation had other feelings.
The production workshop that crafted the widgets she was expecting was in a large town to the south. There were rumors of a religious protest against these proselytizing cultists that turned violent and that the entire city was seized in a riot.
If this delayed the shipment, her contract would be violated, she would have to return the deposit she had already spent, and she would likely be ruined.
Damn the Law-wheel.
The sound of a steam whistle in the distance disrupted her thoughts.
She looked out the large glass windows protecting the platform from the tracks, out to the horizon.
The wisp of steam was clear as the train roared from the horizon towards the station.
The steam weakly trailed behind, seeming to desperately cling to the screaming machine tearing across the desert.
The streamlined metallic beast was barely visible as it threw sand in either direction, the engine was another foreign looking tapered bubble of black glass, with standard passenger and cargo cars trailing behind it.
Barreling upon the station, the engine suddenly released a terrible blast of steam.
The large metal plates lining the tracks groaned as the steam buffeted them, the force of it aiding the screeching brakes as the train slowed into the station, the cars rocking on their momentum compensators.