by Simon Haynes
Not quite.
"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE WORM!" yelled Bernie at top volume, her voice reverberating around the passenger terminal. "IN THE NAME OF THE PEACE FORCE, I DEMAND YOU ALLOW MY OFFICER TO BOARD HER FLIGHT."
The robot swallowed fitfully. "I-immediately, sir. Consider it done."
"Thank you," said Bernie, in her politest manner. "That is most kind of you. Now please return the commset to my officer."
Harriet took the commset, smiled apologetically at the shaken robot, then hurried towards gate 12 … and her flight to Chirless. On the way, she thanked Bernie. "I know it's just a training mission, Bernie, but I appreciate it."
"It was nothing, Trainee Walsh."
"Just … don't get into trouble on my behalf. You know, delaying flights and so on."
"Get in trouble with whom?" said Bernie calmly. "You and I, we are the law on this planet."
"Yes, but —"
"Peace Force above all, Trainee Walsh. Bernie out."
Harriet put the commset away. She wondered whether the robot wasn't stretching her Peace Force powers just a little too far. Were there any limits to what Bernie could hack, rearrange or cancel in order to suit her needs? Was the robot abusing her position?
With that sobering thought in mind, Harriet headed down the boarding tube to her ship.
Chapter 8
Harriet was ushered down the aisle by a robot no taller than her waist. It had long spindly arms, currently tightly folded, which allowed it to reach across passengers to serve food and drinks, and take away empty cups and plates. She assumed it had been designed small to save weight.
On the way, several passengers fixed her with disapproving looks. They knew she was the reason for their delayed flight, even though it was only a few minutes late. At first she kept her head bowed, but then she told herself she was on official Peace Force business. So, instead of hiding her face, she met the passengers' stares with a smile and a confident nod. Some nodded back, others merely turned away.
There were only two seats on either side of the aisle, and hers was right next to the huge window, which suited her fine because she wanted to enjoy every second of the flight. She took her seat and watched the ground crew preparing the ship for launch. Human workers and robots hurried around, performing last-minute checks, stowing fuel hoses and removing all sorts of equipment.
Harriet looked further across the landing field, where dozens of old ships were parked in tight rows behind a fence. Many had awnings, and underneath there was patio furniture, pot plants and even the odd barbecue. She'd seen them before: they belonged to grey nomads who'd wandered the galaxy after retirement, and then settled down on Dismolle. Instead of selling their old ships, they just converted them to housing and paid the spaceport a nominal sum for parking space.
Harriet wondered what it would be like to roam the galaxy on a ship. Waking up on different worlds, going wherever the mood took her. It sounded like a wonderful, thrilling life, but sadly, she was certain it would never happen to her.
She heard three toots on a horn and lowered her gaze to the landing pad. Below, workers and robots alike were taking cover inside underground bunkers. As each bunker filled, the steel blast doors were lowered into place. One robot ran from bunker to bunker, looking for refuge, but it reached each one just too late and was met with a closed door. Eventually it took off across the landing field, loping along at top speed so as to avoid the fire and thunder that would soon blast from the ship's thrusters.
A warning light came on with a ping. The captain apologised for the delay, and announced clearance for lift-off. A few moments later there was a deep rumble, the cabin shook, and when Harriet looked out the window she saw the ground was already at some distance. Below her, she knew, powerful thrusters were hurling the ship upwards at a phenomenal rate. Only the artificial gravity kept everyone from being squashed by the force.
Several minutes later the sky outside darkened to a hazy purple, then disappeared completely. Now there was only darkness, punctuated with stars, and as her eyes adjusted she smiled at the thousands of multicoloured jewels laid out before her. If Steve, the Peace Force cruiser and poet, thought a simple sunset was worth disobeying orders for, what would he make of this?
The thrusters fell silent, and moments later she heard the deeper roar of the main engines. Now they were almost in orbit, the ship could increase speed exponentially, before cutting the engines and drifting back down to the planet. Hopefully, after lining up on the Chirless spaceport.
The whole flight would only last forty minutes, but the little robot was busy lugging a huge trolley down the aisle. It had been programmed for persistence, and when she refused one meal it merely offered another, until she gave in and paid the astronomical asking price. Never mind, she thought, as she tucked into the chicken curry. At least the Force is paying for it.
Ten minutes later another warning sign came on, and the robot hurried along the aisle collecting plates. Many passengers hadn't finished, but the robot simply plucked the rubber forks from their fingers, whisked the paper bowls from their trays, and hurled everything into a trash can on its trolley before continuing along the aisle. Harriet, who'd lost her lunch on a school flight many years ago, so to speak, had been wise enough to eat quickly. Others, less prepared, were not impressed.
Before long the stars faded and the sky turned dark purple, then dark blue. Gradually, as they descended, it became the light blue she was accustomed to. Halfway down there was a roar from the thrusters, and even the artificial gravity couldn't quite mask the ferocious deceleration.
Harriet craned her neck for her first view of Chirless. She'd read about the city before, of course, but had never seen it. From what she'd heard, it was practically identical to Dismolle, and she guessed that was the result of having robots build everything. Individuality went out the perfectly-square window.
She did see houses laid out below, whole suburbs of them, but thick plumes from the thrusters obscured the view until there were no more than glimpses. Then, before she realised they were even close to landing, the ship set down with a gentle bump. The haze outside cleared, and she saw steel doors opening, workers and robots emerging, and pipes and hoses being dragged towards the ship.
The whole flight had only taken forty minutes, and she realised she'd have to get Canitt talking pretty quickly if she was going to complete her mission. If he wasn't the talkative sort, she'd spill her curry in his lap and use that as an ice-breaker.
A disembarkation sign came on, and passengers immediately got up and started taking belongings from the overhead lockers. Harriet decided to wait, since the aisle was blocked and they'd all be out of the way soon anyway. Of course, if she had her uniform and badge she could order them to sit down again. She smiled at that … a few hours on the job and she was already abusing her powers. At this rate she'd soon be no better than Bernie.
The passengers moved out eventually, and Harriet got up and followed them. She left the ship via the long boarding tunnel, emerging in the gate. On the way she had to pass through a security scanner, and when it buzzed she handed over the commset without a word.
The security guard inspected it, eyebrows raised. "Isn't this Peace Force issue?"
"Yep."
"Where did you get it?" he asked. His tone was curious, not suspicious or threatening, and Harriet gave him a warm smile.
"From work. I'm Harriet Walsh of the Dismolle Peace Force."
The guard stared at her, impressed. He wasn't much older than she was, tall and with a mop of dark hair, and Harriet thought he looked quite smart in his uniform. "Are you visiting Chirless on a case?"
"Sure am."
"Bad guys?" breathed the guard, lowering his voice to a whisper. Instinctively, his hand dropped to the weapon at his hip.
Harriet felt she'd led him on enough. If he thought she was pursuing a suspect he might get edgy and shoot someone by mistake. "It's just a routine investigation, nothing to worr
y about. Background checks … the usual boring stuff, you know."
"Yeah, don't I know," said the guard with feeling.
"So … can I have it back?"
"Oh! Sure, here you are." The guard saluted her. "Good luck with your investigation, Officer Walsh."
As she left the boarding tunnel, Harriet realised her undercover work so far had been lousy. First the booking robot at the Dismolle spaceport, with Bernie yelling about Peace Force officers, her voice carrying all over the terminal. And now this guard knew she was a cop too. Nice work, Harriet, she thought wryly.
Harriet passed through the boarding gate and entered the passenger lounge, which was much smaller than Dismolle's. There were quite a few people sitting on the bright green chairs, and with a shock she recognised one of them. It was her target, Melvin Canitt!
Trying not to look suspicious, she strolled to the nearest chair and sat down quickly. Then she realised she should have sat closer to him, perhaps tried to strike up a conversation. The flight to Dismolle was going to be so short she might not have time to get her name out before they were landing again.
Then she noticed something else: not only was the Chirless lounge smaller than Dismolle's, there was only one boarding gate. With a sinking feeling she realised she'd be going back down the same tube in a few moments, right past the same guard. If he called her Officer Walsh in front of Canitt, her cover would be totally blown.
Harriet got up and strolled back to the gate. This time there was a red cord stretched across the boarding tube entrance, and a young woman in airline uniform was now on duty.
She smiled warmly as Harriet approached. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Boarding doesn't begin for another ten minutes."
"I just need to speak to the guard." Harriet nodded. "He was on duty when I got off the ship."
The smile faltered. "You just got off the ship?"
Harriet nodded.
"So … why are you getting back on again?"
"It's a round trip for work." Harriet glanced over her shoulder. She was tempted to let the woman know she was Peace Force, but Canitt wasn't far away and if he overheard she was sunk. "I just need to tell him something, that's all. He was a tall guy, good looking, with dark hair."
"Well perhaps you could tell me what it is, and I'll pass it on," said the woman, in a cold tone.
Harriet wondered what she'd done to upset her. "I can't. It's personal."
"Personal?" Now the woman's tone was frigid. "You should take a seat, miss."
"But —"
"Go and sit down." The woman lowered her voice, hissing through clenched teeth. "Take a seat, and stay the hell away from my boyfriend."
Inwardly, Harriet groaned. She'd have created less of a fuss if she'd jumped up and down, waving her arms and yelling 'look at me, look at me!' "I'm not interested in your guy, okay?" she whispered. "I'm here on official Peace Force business, and I'm following a suspect."
The woman regarded her with suspicion. "So what?"
"When I board the flight, I don't want your boyfriend calling me officer, or asking me how the case is going. Is that understood? Tell him to ignore me."
"With pleasure," hissed the woman. She unhooked the rope and vanished down the tunnel, striding along with her elbows out and her head held high.
Meanwhile, Harriet took her seat and tried to vanish into thin air.
There was a distant sound of shouting, and moments later the woman was back at her post, her face flushed and angry. Harriet felt sorry for the guard … he'd done nothing wrong, and now he was in hot water through no fault of his own. Still, she'd learned a valuable customer relations lesson: A Peace Force officer shouldn't engage anyone in idle chat, ever. Then again, if she hadn't left her badge back at base she'd have avoided angry confrontations in both the spaceports she'd visited so far.
There was an announcement over the PA, and the passengers got up to board the flight. There was quite a crowd, and Harriet hung back until they'd all boarded. She wanted to be last, or nearly, in case there was another confrontation with the young airline staffer.
There wasn't. The woman satisfied herself with a scowl, then busied herself hanging the rope across the entrance while Harriet strode towards the ship. The guard was still there, but he kept his gaze firmly on his shiny black boots as she approached.
"I'm sorry," murmured Harriet, as she passed him. He raised his hand a fraction, giving her a subtle thumbs-up, and she smiled at the sight. He seemed a decent sort, and she hoped he worked things out with the ice queen.
Then she was aboard the ship, and she had more important things to worry about. All the rush, all the last-minute planning and preparation, came down to the next thirty minutes or so. She'd either ace her first trial as a Peace Force trainee, or she'd make a complete fool of herself. She could not see a middle ground.
Chapter 9
Harriet walked down the aisle to her seat with an overwhelming feeling of deja vu. The only difference was that last time every passenger's eyes were on her. This time it just felt like they were. She felt exposed, and she could almost imagine a large sign over her head flashing 'undercover officer!' in a lovely shade of Peace Force blue.
Canitt was busy with his commset when she took her seat, and didn't look at her. From what she could see, his photo hadn't done him justice. He looked better in the flesh, with more presence about him.
Harriet sat down and reached for her own commset, intending to fiddle with it to seem busy. Then she remembered how the transport guard had recognised it as Peace Force issue, and she decided to leave it buried in her pocket. Unfortunately, she wasn't next to the window this time, and if she wanted to watch the workers below until the ship lifted off, she'd have to sit in Canitt's lap. She knew Bernie wanted her to get close to the guy, but not that close.
It wasn't long before the take-off warning pinged, and soon afterwards the thrusters fired, launching the ship into the air. After a few minutes the noise lessened, and Harriet saw the light blue sky starting its long fade to black.
"Do you fancy my nuts?"
Not sure she'd heard right, Harriet stared at Canitt. "I beg your pardon?"
He had his hand out, and nestled in his palm was a tiny sachet of salted peanuts. "I don't like the things," he said with a smile. "You can have them if you want."
"Oh, thanks! Shame to waste them, right?" Harriet took the packet and realised they carried the stylised 'a' of a famous passenger line. A line which she'd read about. A passenger line which — unlike the local company running her sub-orbital flight — actually travelled the galaxy.
"I just got back from Forzen. Nasty place, freezing cold." Canitt frowned. "No, wait, those won't be from Forzen. They couldn't grow peanuts over there. No, they must be from my flight yesterday. That was three systems away, on a big agricultural world."
Harriet stared at the little foil sachet. She couldn't be certain, of course, but as far as she knew it was the first thing she'd ever held in her hands which actually came from another planet.
Canitt mistook her hesitation. "I'm sure they're okay. It was only a day ago. But if you don't want them —"
"I'll have them later," said Harriet quickly, and she put them in her pocket. "Thanks!"
"Don't mention it." Canitt nodded towards the aisle. "I think he's after you."
"Eh? Who?" she turned sharply, and saw the serving robot beside her. "Oh, I'll have coffee thanks."
The robot put a mug of hot liquid on her tray. It turned to Canitt next, offering him a drink, but he waved it away. Instead, Canitt reached into his jacket and brought out a silver hip flask. He noticed Walsh's gaze, and held the flask up with a smile. "It's okay, it's just water."
"Okay. Sure."
"It really is."
"But they have water on board."
"I know, and I'd drink it … if I wanted to live in a happy fog."
"Are you trying to tell me they drug the water on these flights? Dose the passengers to keep them docile?"
"It's not just
the flights." Canitt gave her a strange look. "Surely you know? This whole planet is drugged!"
Inwardly, Harriet groaned. Bernie had managed to pick out a conspiracy nut, and she'd be stuck with him for the next half an hour. She couldn't even ignore him, because she was supposed to get him talking. Well, on the plus side, at least she had a conversation opener. And once she got the nutter going on his pet theory, he probably wouldn't shut up until they landed. "Thanks, Bernie," she murmured. "I owe you for this." Then she gave Canitt her best listening face, wide-eyed and attentive. "But how do you know about the water?" she asked. "Wouldn't they keep it secret?"
"It's not hard to prove," said Canitt. "Drink bottled water for a couple of days and you'll feel totally different. More alive. More alert." He shook the flask. "It has to be the imported stuff, of course. From somewhere off-planet, not the local water. Anything bottled on Dismolle is drugged too."
Oh brother, thought Harriet. Bernie really had picked out a special case. "But why would they do such a thing?"
"Money, of course. Did you know there isn't a single Peace Force officer on this entire planet?"
Did you know there is, and she's sitting right next to you? thought Harriet, struggling not to laugh. "Really? Is that right?"
"Yes indeed. And why is there no Peace Force? Because there's no crime! And why is there no crime?"
"Because everyone's drugged up to the eyeballs?" supplied Harriet.
"There you go. The crime rate dropped by ninety percent once the water was dosed up. It fell to zero once people used up all the older bottled water."
"But surely the people would have risen up when this was announced? Organised marches? Protests?" Harriet knew she was right, and she was going to enjoy shooting his theory down in flames.
"They had a referendum, and the majority voted for the water doping."
Harriet stared at him. "But … I never heard about it."
"Of course not. This was about ten years ago. You would have been, what, ten? Twelve?" He noticed her look. "I know what I'm talking about. The people voted. No more domestic violence, no more road rage, no more bar brawls. No more soccer riots."
