by Simon Haynes
"I'll get on it right away." The woman hesitated. "It's going to take fifteen minutes."
"Ten, or you're getting a tour of our cells."
"A-are you still going to arrest me?"
"I will, if I'm still here in fifteen minutes."
— ♦ —
The air in the Peace Force station was thick with dust, with more being added by the minute as the boxes of old files were transferred from the stairwell to the front doors. They formed a thick barricade in front of the piled-up furniture, and Harriet was pretty sure they'd stop any flying glass if the enemy managed to blow the front doors in.
They were nearly finished when her commset rang, and she frowned when she saw it was Alice. What happened to staying off the air? "Yes?" she said curtly.
"Comms should be clear again," said Alice.
"How?"
"Tell you when I get there. I'm on my way back."
She disconnected, and Harriet eyed her commset. There was no way she was going to trust the thing until Bernie confirmed it was clear, but Bernie had ordered her to stay off the line. She toyed with the device, weighing up her options, then decided to take the risk. She put a call through to Bernie, but instead of the robot's voice, she heard a recorded message.
"Thank you for calling the Dismolle Peace Force. Unfortunately, all our operators are busy, but if you state your name, address, and the nature of your crime we will send the next available officer to arrest you."
Harriet disconnected. It seemed Bernie had shut down the network, so she wouldn't be getting any help from that direction. All she could do is wait for Alice to return, and perhaps learn why they'd been compromised in the first place.
Chapter 18
Harriet's train of thought was interrupted when Birch came to find her.
"Not to state the obvious," he said, "but we need more weapons. We've held them off so far, but if they manage break these doors, we're sunk."
"How's the charge on your gun?" asked Harriet.
"Low. I plugged it in while I was moving boxes, but I don't like being without it. Yours?"
Harriet displayed the butt of her weapon, and Birch winced as he saw the charge indicator.
"We've got to keep them away from the entrance," said Harriet. "We can't take the fight to them, but if we can wear them down each time they attack, eventually they might just give up."
"Is that our plan? Wait until they get tired?" Birch shook his head. "You don't know Darting. She'll never let this go."
Harriet watched as Flint's robot entered, carrying an armful of files. The robot stacked them on the growing pile, and as he turned to fetch more, she called out to him. "Scrap?"
"Yes, officer?"
Harriet paused. She knew what she wanted to ask, but she wanted to couch it in the right terms. "You understand that we're in a lot of danger here?"
"Indeed."
"Have you ever been in a fight like this?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"Don't you know?"
"There is no record in my current memories, but they may not be my own, since many of my parts have been replaced over the years. Therefore, it's possible this body has been in a fight like this, but I am not aware of it."
Harriet pursed her lips. This was going to be trickier than she thought. "Do you understand what will happen if the enemy gets through these doors?"
"Of course. They will kill you all."
Harriet found the robot's matter-of-fact tone more disconcerting than panic or hysterics. "Would you help me stop them?"
"I cannot harm humans."
"Not even if they're breaking the law?"
"My programming does not allow for that distinction."
"What if someone tries to harm your owner?"
"I would stop them."
"Don't you think it would be best to stop them before they got near?"
The robot studied her with its warm yellow eyes. "I understand where you're going with this argument, but it will not change anything. I can only react to events as they occur."
"What about passive defence?" Harriet nodded towards the doors. "If you stood outside—"
"The enemy has grenades," said Scrap. "I would only be standing for a short period of time before they destroyed me."
Harriet could see the robot had a point. She'd been hoping he'd offer to stand outside, and would defend himself vigorously if the enemy attacked. Unfortunately, it seemed he was smart enough not to put himself in danger in the first place, and she couldn't really blame him. "So you can't … scare them away?"
Scrap looked down at himself. "I do not believe myself to be sufficiently imposing."
He was right. Compared to Bernie, Flint's robot was almost a walking, talking skeleton. Not for the first time, Harriet wished the huge, solid, bulletproof Peace Force robot was there to fight alongside them. One look at her imposing form, and the enemy would give up. Then she remembered something she'd seen earlier, and her eyes narrowed as she considered the possibilities. "Birch, keep a lookout."
"Why? Where are you going?"
"The garage. Come on, Scrap. I've thought of something." On the way, she collected Caldavir and Flint. "Leave the boxes," she said. "I've got a crazy idea."
"Oh good, it's been at least half an hour since the last one," said Caldavir.
Harriet pulled the garage open and turned on the light, revealing the Peace Force cruiser and the shell of the abandoned BNE robot. Quickly, she explained her plan to the others, and was met with incredulous looks.
Finally, Caldavir broke the silence. "You said it was crazy, not flat-out insane."
"It might work," said Harriet.
"Will it even fit?" demanded Caldavir.
"Only one way to find out."
Flint shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sending Scrap out to get shot at."
Scrap crouched next to the big, empty shell, and rapped the surface with his knuckles. "This armour is proof against all hand weapons."
"I know," said Harriet. "I've seen Bernie walk through a gunfight before now."
"It doesn't matter," said Flint. "They'll know it's fancy dress the minute they see it."
"Not if we wait until dusk."
The others were silent. "Okay," said Flint at last. "I don't like it, but I'll do it on one condition. Scrap has to agree."
"I am willing to try," said the robot gravely. "I do not see that I can come to any harm."
Flint clapped him on the shoulder. "Then let's get on with it."
"We're going to need some gear," said Caldavir. He inspected a row of plastic parts buckets on the shelves, then reached into one and scooped up a handful of rusty ball bearings. "What were they doing, repairing bikes on the side?"
Harriet shrugged. "Maybe someone rented this place after the Peace Force moved out."
Caldavir checked more shelves, collecting a roll of rubber tubing and several lengths of steel rod. "This stuff's giving me an idea," he said, as he delved further into the garage. "And I don't mean a nutty idea like dressing robots in body armour."
"Good. We can use all the ideas you can come up with." Harriet tilted her head as she heard a familiar roar. "That's Alice. I'll leave you guys to it, I need to speak with her."
She hurried towards the stairwell, now empty of boxes, and ran up the stairs to the roof. Alice and Ben were emerging from the fighter, and she waited under cover as they ran across the roof towards her. So far, the enemy hadn't attacked from the heights of the surrounding buildings, but they were all aware just how exposed the roof was.
"Explain," said Harriet, as the others entered the stairwell. "What happened with the comms network?"
"I'm not entirely sure," said Alice evasively. "But I remembered a commset shop in the high street, and I had them check mine over. They found a rogue app or something, and got rid of it."
"How did it get on there in the first place?"
"Who knows?" said Alice, still refusing to meet Harriet's eye. "But they checked it out, and they re
ckon they fixed it."
"All right, but keep the commsets for emergencies only. I don't trust them, not after this."
Alice nodded, and they were all about to head downstairs when Harriet spotted something that gave her an idea. "Wait."
The others stopped. "What?"
"I might have another job for you." Harriet left the cover of the stairwell and ran for the ship. Once underneath, she crossed to the yellow access ladder, which was firmly planted on the roof. She grabbed the metal and shook it, then put her foot on the lower rung and pushed with all her strength.
"It's not going to fall off," said Alice, joining her under the ship.
"How much weight do you reckon it would take?"
"You're not that heavy, sis."
"I'm being serious!"
"I don't know. Three or four people, I guess." Alice's face cleared. "You're thinking of flying everyone out of here!"
"No, not that," said Harriet slowly. "I want you to fly to Dismolle."
"Really? Why?"
"You're going to collect Bernie."
Alice shook her head. "We already talked about that. She won't fit through the hatch."
"She doesn't have to." Harriet patted the ladder. "She can hold onto this."
Alice's jaw dropped, and once she'd recovered she protested volubly. "Okay, first she's just going to snap it off. She weighs a ton! No, two tons!"
"She can check the strength first."
"Second, even if the ladder holds, there's a good chance Arnie won't even get off the ground. And third … you want me to ask Bernie if she'll fly all the way to Chirless clinging to a ladder? Are you nuts?"
"Alice, if you get Bernie here we can wrap this mess up in no time. We'll be home in time for dinner!"
"Sis, I've tried your dinners. That's not gonna motivate me."
"Takeaway, then!" Harriet spread her hands. "I promise, if she scratches your precious paint I'll touch it up myself."
"It's daft. It's completely mad." Alice shook the ladder, then glanced up at her ship. "No, you're mad, but … hell, it might just work."
"Great. Get back as soon as you can."
"I just hope Bernie's still on the ladder when I get here. And I want three pizzas, good ones, not that bargain basement rubbish."
"It's a deal."
Alice and Ben clambered into the fighter, and Harriet stood back as they took off. The thrusters blasted her with dust and grit, and she shielded her eyes with the crook of her arm. By the time the cloud cleared, the fighter was a speck in the sky, and she watched it streak towards Dismolle with long tails of flame jetting from its after-burners.
She tried to call Bernie again, to let her know about the pickup, but hung up when she got the recorded message. Oh well, the robot would find out soon enough. She just hoped Bernie would go along with the plan, because there was only one thing better than spooking the enemy with a fake BNE-II crime fighting robot, and that was scaring the pants off them with a real one.
— ♦ —
Bernie eyed the setting sun with disfavour. The glare through the windshield was unpleasant, and although she could dim her vision, doing so reduced visibility all round. As a digital entity she was not a big fan of nature, with its infinitely complex variety. Where was the light switch, the control to adjust the climate, the setting to ensure all trees grew at the same rate, and conformed to a standardised height? Nowhere! It was chaos, and she wasn't happy about it.
The car whipped along the main highway between Dismolle and Chirless, and there was no traffic to speak of. There was barely any highway, since the route was rarely used, and trees and bushes grew right up to the edges. They were so close Bernie could have put her hand out and ripped a long swathe in the foliage, had she felt like it.
Instead, she turned her attention to their progress. "ETA?" she asked.
"Seventeen hours," said Steve. "Would you like some music to pass the time?"
"How would listening to noise help?"
"Humans seem to enjoy it."
"I don't know whether your camera is malfunctioning, but I am clearly not human."
"Yeah, I got that," muttered Steve. "So, how about a sing-song?"
"Do humans enjoy that?"
"Some of them. Usually the ones doing the singing."
"I'd prefer silence."
"Very well."
"Total silence," said the robot.
Steve said nothing.
Bernie glanced up as a ship passed high overhead, and she felt a stab of envy. They could travel between major cities in minutes, whereas her journey would take hours. Then she realised her journey didn't have to take any time at all. She set an alarm for sixteen hours and fifty minutes, and switched herself off.
Chapter 19
It was late afternoon, and the streets around the Chirless Peace Force station were quiet. The buildings surrounding the station threw long shadows, and it was dark inside the office. There was no suggestion of turning the lights on, because the darkness gave Harriet's group a big advantage. The enemy couldn't see them, and if they couldn't see them, they couldn't shoot them either.
Harriet was keeping an eye on the area in front of the station, and she hadn't seen a single car or pedestrian for thirty minutes. Birch was nearby, sitting on one of the file boxes with his gun at the ready.
"How long before they attack, do you reckon?" he asked, nodding towards the street.
"No idea, but we'll know when it happens."
"Who's keeping watch?"
"Duke."
Birch nodded. "He's a good man."
"I just hope he keeps his head down. If Darting's people get hold of a rifle—"
"I warned everyone to stay under cover."
"They shouldn't even be here, Dave." Harriet glanced at him. "Don't get me wrong, it's great to have their help, but they can't fight back unless we get hold of more weapons."
"You won't be saying that if the enemy breaks these barricades down. The two of us wouldn't last ten seconds, but with the others here we might have a chance."
"What are they going to do, throw furniture?"
"Yeah. That's exactly what they'll do."
There was a crash outside, and Harriet spun round. There was a brick in the middle of the road, still in motion, and she realised it was the signal. "Duke's seen someone. Get him off the roof, quick."
Birch sent someone to the roof, while Harriet crouched behind the outer barricade and steadied her weapon. There was a bang on the front doors, and she risked a quick look over the dusty old file boxes. Harriet frowned as she saw a small fabric bag nestled against the glass, and then she saw pulses of light from within. Instead of throwing one grenade, the enemy had thrown a whole bag of the things. "Dave, get down!" she shouted, and she crouched, covering her head with her arms.
There was a tremendous explosion, this one too much for the reinforced doors. Broken glass showered the office, and the force of the explosion filled the air with smoking fragments of files and paperwork. The blast almost toppled the barricade, and the explosion left Harriet stunned and disoriented. There was no time to recover though, because multi-coloured blaster shots lanced through the smoke. Harriet fired back, aiming just above the source of the shots, calmly shooting at one attacker after another. Birch opened fire from the other end of the barricade, and their cross-fire was enough to hold the enemy back. For now.
The smoke from the explosion cleared, and Harriet saw the attackers caught in the open. She dropped two of them, and the rest were on the point of running when a van skidded to a halt in the street, soaking up Harriet's fire. The enemy took advantage of the cover, and soon their shots were getting uncomfortably close despite the darkness. Every time Harriet fired, a dozen shots blasted her position, the enemy firing at the flashes from her gun.
"We have to fall back!" shouted Birch, firing his weapon repeatedly. His shots splashed on the van harmlessly, and he cursed as he fired again and again.
"We can't let them in," said Harriet grimly. She
saw someone aiming at Birch through the van's shattered windows, and she loosed off a couple of shots which quickly changed the attacker's mind. He rose again, aiming directly at her, and then she saw him vanish as her shot went home. For the first time in her life, Harriet appreciated the long hours of practice Bernie put her through at the shooting range.
The weapon grew hot in her grip, and she risked a look at the charge indicator. It was in the red, and she felt a chill at the sight. Before long she'd be out, and then the enemy would overrun them. She glanced round and saw Timms in the doorway behind her. "What's happening with that robot?" shouted Harriet.
"They're not ready. I think they're—"
"He's got to be ready, or we're sunk."
"Very well, dear. I'll tell them to hurry up."
Harriet fired again, then ducked a volley of shots. The enemy had the numbers, and she released it was hopeless. Even Scrap couldn't save them now, and their only hope was Alice … and Bernie.
— ♦ —
"Dismolle five minutes ahead," said Arnie. "Hold on, I'm adjusting course to avoid the spaceport's exclusion zone."
The ship banked gently, and Alice saw the city laid out ahead of them. It was too far to make out the buildings, but she knew the Peace Force station was somewhere in the middle of the grey mass. "Have you ever been to Dismolle?" she asked Ben.
He shook his head. "I've never left Chirless."
"Well, the city's a bit bigger, but the station's identical." Alice pointed through the canopy. "Spaceport's over there. We have to stay clear, else they'll shoot us down."
"Really?"
"That's what they say, but I'm not testing it out. I mean, you can land there with permission of course. You just can't take a joyride through the place." The ship altered course again, heading directly for the centre of the city. Through the side of the canopy Alice could see broad fields laid out below, with big automated machines harvesting the crops that fed the people of Dismolle. It was an impressive sight, but she'd seen better. Ben, on the other hand, had his face pressed to the canopy as he soaked up every moment of the flight. Alice smiled at that - she'd grown up on her uncle's freighter, travelling from planet to planet, docking at space stations and more. Broad vistas weren't exactly novel to her.
