by Simon Haynes
Seconds later they were under fire again, this time from three of the surrounding buildings at once. The roof was far too exposed, and they got up and ran for the stairwell, weaving and ducking as the shots thumped into the roof around them. They arrived out of breath, and to Harriet's surprise she heard Moira laughing. "What's so funny?"
"All of this," said Moira, with a gesture. "I can see why you do it. What a rush!"
Harriet wondered if Moira had gone mad, but there wasn't time to ask. "We've got to spot the windows they're using," she said. "Are you ready? Okay, on three."
"Wait! What do you mean, on three? What are we going to do?"
"Run across the roof again, but watch the buildings."
"How about watching where we're going?"
Harriet ignored her. "You take the building on the left, I'll take the one on the right. Say check when you've got it, then we'll both spot the last window."
"Then what?"
"Then we take cover. Ready?"
"Sure."
"One … two … three!" said Harriet, and they both ran from cover. Despite the darkness, the enemy spotted them and opened fire, and the roof flashed and glowed with multi-coloured blaster shots. They slammed into the concrete, sending glowing sparks shooting into the air, but Harriet ran on regardless. "Check!" she called, as she spotted the window in her building, and then she turned to the second building ahead of her.
"Check!" called Moira, who was further away to her left.
The gunfire intensified, and Harriet spotted the final shooter. He was so eager he was leaning out of the window, firing down at Moira with blast after blast. Harriet's pace slowed, and as she came to a halt the other two shooters turned their fire on her. Gunfire struck the roof all around her, but she ignored it and raised her crossbow. She was breathing hard, and it wasn't easy to steady her aim, but she managed to hold still long enough to shoot. The bow jumped, and she saw the bolt streaking towards the target. Then … it hit. She saw the man drop his gun as he was knocked backwards, into the apartment. Seconds later, his gun smashed on the ground far below.
There was a chack nearby, and she turned to see Moira lowering her bow. They both reloaded, still under fire from the two remaining shooters, and then Harriet got Moira's attention and directed her to the far side of the roof. "Take cover on your side. I'll get this one."
Moira nodded and ran for it, and they both crouched below their respective parapets. The blaster fire petered out, and Harriet took several deep breaths to steady herself. While she was under cover, she crawled ten or fifteen metres along the parapet, hoping the man above wouldn't realise she'd moved.
Then, slowly, she raised her head. She could see the window with her target, and she thought she could see him looking out, peering down at her as he tried to pick a target on the roof below him. Very slowly, Harriet eased the crossbow up, avoiding sudden moves so as not to catch his attention. She aimed at the window above the shooter, held steady for a second or two, then fired.
The bow jumped in her hands, and when she focused on the window, the shadowy figure had disappeared. Whether she'd hit him, or he'd been spooked by a near miss, she had no idea. Either way, he'd gone. Harriet looked for Moira, and saw her approaching in the open. There was no gunfire from the buildings above.
"Are you all right?" called Moira, her voice concerned.
Harriet gripped the crossbow to disguise her shaking fingers. The adrenaline was draining away, and it left her feeling weak and a little sick. "I'll be fine." Harriet got up. "Thanks for the help, by the way. These weapons might just save the day."
"Yeah, nice bit of shooting too," said Moira, her voice calm.
Harriet didn't want to think about it. "Can you keep watch up here?"
"Sure. I've still got half a dozen bolts. Maybe send up some more, just in case."
Harriet nodded, and took the stairs to the ground floor. On the way she reached for her commset, intending to call an ambulance … or three. Then she withdrew her hand. She couldn't send paramedics into danger, and she didn't have enough people to protect them. Darting would just have to look after her own.
With a grim face, she entered the office. "Listen up," she called, over the noise, and everyone stopped work. "Moira and I just took out the shooters in the apartment buildings."
There was a cheer, which made Harriet feel even worse.
"About time we fought back," said Duke, and he took up a crossbow which was almost ready for use. "Once we've all got these, we've won!"
They all cheered again, as though Darting were already fleeing the planet.
"Okay, that's enough," said Harriet. "Moira's on watch, and I need someone to take her more bolts. You can take this bow as well, and she'll show you how to use it. If we can keep the roof clear, we might still be able to fly out of here if things get really bad."
The others returned to work, all except Duke, who collected Harriet's crossbow and headed for the roof with a big handful of bolts. There was a determined look on his face, and Harriet pitied any of Darting's people who were silly enough to open fire from the surrounding buildings.
Then she caught Birch's eye, and he gave her a nod before taking up a piece of timber and turning back to the bandsaw.
Chapter 24
It was three a.m., and Harriet was taking the final watch before dawn. She was on the roof, where it was freezing cold. Now and again she'd stir herself, crossing from one side of the roof to another as she checked the streets below. The apartment blocks looming over her were mostly in darkness, with only a handful of lights gleaming from the windows.
Alice had been on watch a few hours earlier, and when Harriet relieved her she learned that a couple of the ubiquitous black vans had given the Peace Force building a wide berth before stopping behind the apartment blocks. Alice hadn't seen much, but Harriet assumed Darting's people had been collecting their wounded.
She glanced up at the building. If the enemy had left anyone up there, they certainly weren't showing themselves. Their blasters had proven to be no match for Moira's crossbows, and before Harriet managed to grab a few hours sleep she'd seen every member of her team issued with one of the deadly weapons, along with two dozen bolts. With the firepower at their disposal, everyone was feeling confident about their position, and most of the team had spent a happy couple of hours in the basement firing range. The old Chirless station had echoed with their laughter and tall tales of past glories, each more unbelievable than the last, and Harriet had gone to sleep thinking it was a real shame the Peace Force had been reduced to two trainees and an old robot.
Harriet shivered, and she got up and walked the roof for a while to get her circulation going. It was still pitch dark, with at least three hours until dawn, and she wasn't expecting to be relieved until five. She'd barely managed two hours sleep, because the others had been constructing a much stronger barricade across the front office, using the timber and steel left over from building weapons. The sound of their labour, and the noise of the machinery, had carried right through the building, and Harriet had lain awake listening to them until they were done.
They'd got enough charge into Bernie to enable the robot to walk into the station, where she'd connected to a wall socket for a proper charge. Unfortunately the socket wasn't able to cope with her voracious appetite, so she'd had to resort to a trickle charge. That would take hours, and in the meantime Bernie had shut down completely.
Now, at three in the morning, everyone was supposed to be asleep, which is why Harriet was startled to hear footsteps approaching. She turned and saw a shadow walking stealthily across the roof towards her, and as they ducked under Alice's fighter jet, she swung her crossbow round to cover them. "Who's there?" she whispered.
"It's me. Dave. Brought you a drink."
Harriet lowered the crossbow, and as Birch got closer, she realised he was carrying a couple of coffee mugs. Steam rose from the hot brew, curling in the night air. "You're supposed to be sleeping, but thanks."
&nb
sp; Birch passed her a mug. "I won't sleep until Darting's behind bars. Or dead, I don't mind which."
"I hope it doesn't come to that," said Harriet, sipping the hot coffee.
"Do you know why it's called the Peace Force?" It was clearly a rhetorical question, because Birch didn't wait for a reply. "As the name suggests, peace comes first, and if that doesn't work we use force. And let me tell you, we must use as much force as it takes."
"Darting must know that, so why hasn't she given up?"
"I can think of several reasons. First, she's not the one getting shot at. Second, if we defeat all her people, she'll fly off in that freighter we saw earlier. Third, she knows we're weak. If she can knock us off she'll have the whole planet, and she knows the other planets in this system — hell, the rest of the known galaxy — won't care either way. And finally, she's a stubborn, egotistical old bird. She had this town in her grip all those years ago, and she craves the power."
"Foster has more power than Darting, and she didn't need weapons to get it. She's on her own little power trip with the Residents' Association, but people still seem to want her around. Darting could learn a few tricks from her."
"Don't worry, they'll probably end up fighting each other." Birch sighed. "I just want the people of Chirless to enjoy their lives without having to look over their shoulders all the time. Is that too much to ask?"
Harriet raised a hand for silence. In the distance she could hear the growl of several vehicles, and at this time of the morning it wasn't a fleet of garbage trucks. She ran to the side of the roof and stared between the buildings, trying to spot the vehicles. She didn't want to wake everyone over a false alarm, but when she saw the black vans with their lights off, she turned to Birch. "Wake the others, quick. Send half of them up here with weapons, keep half in the office."
"On my way," said Birch, and he vanished into the darkness.
Left alone on the roof, Harriet finished her coffee and carefully set the mug on the ground, in the shelter of the wall. Then she took a firm grip on the crossbow, checked the bolt was loaded correctly, and waited for the enemy to move into range.
— ♦ —
It was just after dawn, and Harriet's breath misted in the sharp morning air. The enemy had gathered further down the street, out of sight of the station entrance. Harriet wasn't sure if she could reach them with a bolt, and had no intention of finding out. If she hit one of the vehicles, they'd just move further down the road, and if she hit one of the people she could see behind the vehicles … well, they hadn't attacked yet, and she wasn't in the habit of shooting people just because they were gathering in public. Even though Peace Force HQ didn't seem to care what happened on Dismolle, Harriet was sure there'd be reports to be made eventually, and those reports could wind up in a public hearing, or in some kind of criminal court.
She was determined to play it by the book, and if that meant letting the enemy come to them, so be it.
One of the enemy, a woman with red hair, barked orders at several others, and they readied their weapons and fanned out, using the buildings for cover as they made their way towards the Peace Force station. The woman turned to look up at the roof, and Harriet eyed her right back, centering the woman in the groove on top of her crossbow. Then the woman turned away to address more of her people, who got into a van and drove off. Harriet heard the vehicle circling the station at a distance, and she realised the enemy were splitting up, hoping to attack from several directions at once.
Well, good luck with that, thought Harriet. The front entrance was the only way in, and the new barricade was far stronger than the pair of glass doors which had been destroyed by the grenade blast. Reinforced with steel bars, the new barricade had been pierced with shooting holes, and would be almost impossible to break down. Outside, in the street, stood the building's original row of rusty bollards, which prevented anyone ramming the barricade with a vehicle.
The only other entrance was the door to the garage, and they'd pushed the old cruiser right up to it, jamming the rest of the space with junk. One of Harriet's team was keeping an eye on it, and at the first sign of trouble they'd call for help.
Harriet glanced at the fighter jet standing on the roof nearby. If all else failed, they'd worked out an evacuation plan. Unfortunately, she just wasn't sure if the elderly veterans were capable of running full-tilt up three flights of stairs, not even with armed pursuers hot on their tails. Plus the plan involved having Alice at the controls of the jet, but Alice flat out refused to leave the front office, where she was determined to take out as many of the enemy as possible with a crossbow she'd helped to build.
Their only hope was Bernie. If the barricade fell, the robot was to stay behind, blocking the stairwell while everyone else made their escape. She was still plugged in, charging slowly, and Harriet hoped the robot would have enough power to reach the stairs. Harriet pictured Bernie going flat in the stairwell, leaving her at the mercy of Darting's thugs. Her lips thinned as she imagined them tearing Bernie apart, and she decided that fleeing would be their absolute last resort.
She raised her head again, taking in the scene below. Darting must have sent her entire force against the station, and at that moment Harriet had a wild idea. It was crazy, it was bold, and it might just work.
With her heart pounding, she took out her commset to call Alice. Then she decided against it, and left her post to run flat out towards the stairwell. As she crossed the roof, shots came at her from the surrounding buildings, but she ignored them. Once in the stairwell she took the steps at the double, and when she ran into the front office half a dozen faces turned to stare. "New plan," she managed. "Everyone to the roof."
"What about the defence?"
Harriet shook her head. "Roof. Alice, get the ship ready. We're leaving."
The others looked like they were going to object, but years of obeying orders, however crazy, had conditioned them. Alice ran for the stairs while the others followed more slowly until only Flint remained. "I'm not leaving Scrap."
"We have to."
"But—"
"I'll hide him before I leave." Harriet gestured towards the piles of broken furniture. "It's the best I can do. There's no time for anything else."
Flint hesitated, clearly torn, then nodded.
As he left, Harriet called after him. "Make sure everyone gets to the roof, okay? Try to get them onto the ship without being seen. The enemy can't realise we're leaving."
Flint hesitated, then nodded and left. Meanwhile, Harriet unplugged Bernie and waved her hand in front of the robot's eyes.
"Trainee Harriet," said the robot, after she booted up. "How is the battle going?"
"If we get this right, there won't be an battle," said Harriet. "I need you on the roof, as quick as you can."
Bernie stepped away from the wall and strode towards the stairs.
Harriet laid Scrap on the floor and covered him in pieces of furniture, added a few handfuls of shredded reports and torn cardboard, then left to follow the others. On the way she checked the garage to make sure they'd remembered the lookout, then ran up the stairs.
She found the others on the roof, some climbing the ladder to the fighter's airlock, the rest waiting. Bernie stood nearby, impassive. Alice was visible through the canopy, Captain Timms in the seat alongside her, and as Harriet caught her sister's eye she thought she saw a look of disappointment. No surprise there, thought Harriet. Alice was a warrior type, and she'd been eager to make the enemy pay. Well, she'd soon have her chance.
Once everyone was aboard, Harriet passed up her crossbow and climbed the ladder herself. The ship was crammed, with Birch and Ben still in the airlock, having helped the others up. They were unable to take the stairs to the flight deck themselves, because the staircase was already full of people.
"I hope this thing'll get off the ground," muttered Birch.
Privately, Harriet hoped so too, especially when Bernie took hold of the ladder. She looked down and saw the robot standing on the l
owest rung, one fist clamped around the ladder, the other holding Scrap to her shoulder.
A speaker in the airlock crackled, and they heard Alice's voice. "So, where are we running to? Dismolle?"
Harriet shook her head, then remembered Alice couldn't see her. "Take us to Darting's base. Set down nearby, out of gunshot range."
Everyone stared at her, astonished, and then Birch laughed. "My, you're a cunning one," he said admiringly. "Darting's sent all her people here, so we leapfrog them and attack her base instead!"
"Yeah, if it's her base. She might have several."
The engines roared, and hot air and dust blew into the airlock in a swirling cloud. The noise was intense, and it got even louder as the engines blasted at maximum thrust. Despite the pounding jets, the ship didn't move, and after a few seconds the thrusters cut out.
"Sorry, sis," said Alice, through the speaker. "Way too heavy. We're not going anywhere."
Birch took Harriet's arm. "I'll stay. You need someone at the barricade, otherwise the enemy will know we've all gone."
"No, that's insane," said Harriet. "You'd never hold them off on your own."
"Then let me take a couple of others. Please, Harriet!"
"I'll stay with him," said Ben. "I've hardly done anything to help so far, and this is my city."
Harriet shook her head, then looked down the ladder. "Bernie, we can't lift off. We'll have to come back for you."
The robot looked up at her. "Understood, Trainee Harriet. Please don't delay." Without hesitation, Bernie released the ladder and stepped onto the roof.
"Go, Alice!" Harriet called. She gave Bernie a grateful nod, and she was still watching the big, loyal robot as the thrusters fired. The ship struggled to rise from the roof, and they drifted slowly towards the parapet, the landing legs scraping on the concrete.
"This is ridiculous," muttered Birch, and before Harriet could stop him he took to the ladder, climbing down quickly with the crossbow still gripped in one hand, his blaster tucked into the waistband of his slacks.
