by Simon Haynes
They reached the station in record time. Steve pulled into the garage, hot air pouring from the car after its flat-out run. Harriet jumped out the minute the cruiser came to a halt, heading for the office.
"Good luck with your investigation," Steve called after her.
"Thanks," said Harriet grimly. And she went to find Bernie.
* * *
When Harriet walked into the station she found Bernie near the row of desks, trying to operate one of the printers. She'd fed a glossy flyer into the top, but the printer was refusing to take it. "Bother," said the robot, as her big fingers snapped off a large piece of plastic from the feeder. Then she noticed Harriet, and jumped. "Trainee Walsh, I didn't expect you back so soon! How is Alice?"
"Mending," said Harriet.
"Excellent. I'm pleased. Incidentally, I have your cooler box here."
"Oh, wonderful." Harriet took it reluctantly. "Do we have a rubbish collection, by the way?"
"No."
"I'll dump it later, then." She set it on the desk and nodded towards the printer. "What are you doing? Sending out another of those 'you have been selected' letters?"
"I'm printing an important document." Bernie looked down at the broken piece of plastic. "Or rather, trying to."
"Here, let me." Harriet fed the paper in, and it vanished into the printer. There was a flash, and the sheet came out again covered in printing. It looked official, and when Harriet picked it up she realised it was a certificate with her name at the top. "What's this about?"
"It's your weapons proficiency certificate," said Bernie. "Your shooting today was remarkable, your weapon handling exemplary."
"Thanks, Bernie." Harriet folded the certificate and pushed it into her pocket, eliciting a pained look from the robot. Bernie probably wanted her to frame it, but Harriet had more important things on her mind. That, and the pictures of burgers and fries were showing through from the back, which kind of detracted from the smart, official-looking certificate. "Bernie, I need you ask you something."
"Anything, Trainee Walsh."
"How did you get onto Canitt in the first place? What tipped you off?"
"I discovered the hospital was selling organs cheaply, and I decided to investigate."
"And this was yesterday?"
The robot studied her. "It may have been. My memory isn't what it used to be."
"So you accessed the hospital's database?" asked Harriet casually.
"Can we talk about this later? I need to print another certificate."
"Forget the damned certificates," snapped Harriet. "Did you have access to the hospital, yes or no?"
"I—I did what was necessary. She … she wouldn't answer my letters. You see that, don't you?"
Harriet felt an icy chill. "Auntie?"
"I had to ensure you would respond to my letters."
"So you killed her?" whispered Harriet, scarcely believing it.
"It wasn't like that!" protested Bernie. "Your aunt was not going to recover from her illness. I merely … accelerated matters."
"But … why me? What did I do to deserve this?"
"Oh, that is simple. As I have explained on several occasions, fifteen is the optimal age for a Peace Force trainee, and orphans are deemed the most suitable of all." Bernie spread her hands. "Dismolle is a retirement planet, and there are few children. Six years ago, Trainee Walsh, you were the only fifteen-year-old orphan on Dismolle. You had no immediate family to stand in the way of your Peace Force career, and so I invited you to join."
"But I did have immediate family. I had my Auntie, and you killed her!"
"She stood in the way," said Bernie impassively.
Harriet didn't know whether to yell her lungs out or curl up and cry. The robot was so matter-of-fact about it, as though Auntie had been an inconvenience to be dealt with. "She was my aunt. She raised me, she cared for me, and I looked after her when she weakened. And you … you murdered her!"
The dam finally broke, and, Harriet was swamped by a wave of anger and emotion. She screamed and swept everything off the desk with a single, violent motion. The printer, the terminal, the cooler box, and all the items with her name on crashed to the floor and scattered. She turned to confront Bernie, a red mist blinding her, and she had no idea what she might have done next, because at that second she became aware of a frantic beeping behind her.
She looked round, expecting to see the printer flashing warning messages about a paper jam or counterfeit ink, but instead she saw a small, black sphere with a red light on top. She'd never seen anything like it, but before she could react, Bernie shoved her aside.
"Grenade!" thundered the robot. "Everyone take cover immediately!"
Harriet could only stare. She had seconds to live, and running wasn't going to make any difference. The blast would probably level the whole building. Stupidly, she realised Canitt had rigged the grenade in the cooler box, and she went cold as she remembered Alice had almost opened it in the car.
Obviously, Canitt hadn't believed she was really Peace Force. He'd clung to his spy theory, and callously set out to kill both her and Alice. Well, if there was one small blessing, it was the fact Alice was at the hospital.
Harriet closed her eyes, accepting the end, but instead of a huge bang there was little more than a metallic thud.
"Run, Trainee Walsh. Run!"
Harriet opened her eyes and saw Bernie hunched over the grenade, arms and legs drawn in to contain as much of the blast as possible. The sight was finally enough to shake Harriet out of her dreamlike state, and she took off for the back of the office, running so fast she thought she'd never stop.
She reached the top of the stairs and jumped. She was still in mid-air when there was a tremendous blast behind her. The shock-wave gathered her up and hurled her against the stairwell with enough force to knock her out.
As her consciousness faded, her last thought was that Bernie had been absolutely right about Canitt.
Chapter 27
When she finally came round, Harriet had no idea how long she'd been out. Her mouth was dry and gritty, she had a massive headache and her entire body was one big bruise.
"Oh good. You're not dead, then."
Harriet opened one eye and saw Alice crouched over her. "Hospital? How?"
"I got a cab when you didn't show up."
"Sorry."
"You had a reasonable excuse. By the way, you look like crap. How do you feel?"
"Crap." Harriet decided to lie there for a day or two, at least until her brain stopped bouncing around inside her skull.
"Did Bernie explode or something?"
Suddenly it all came back. The robot's confession, her raging anger … and Canitt's parting gift. Harriet tried to sit up, but she was so weak she could only manage to lean on one elbow. "Water," she croaked. "Explain after."
Alice limped off, returning with a mug of water in her good hand. The other was enclosed in a cast from wrist to elbow.
Harriet took a mouthful of water, rinsed and spat it out on the floor. With the amount of rubble lying around, she figured a little water wouldn't hurt. Then, with most of the grit cleared, she drained the mug. "Canitt booby-trapped the cooler box. Tried to kill us."
Alice went pale. "The one I nearly opened?"
"Yeah."
"Damn, there goes the barbecue." Alice's tone was light, but her expression betrayed her.
"Yeah, well we've got higher priorities right now." Harriet frowned. "I've got to arrest him, you know."
"No, we've got to get you to hospital. You look like you've been headbutting a wall."
"He's dangerous, Alice."
"Yeah, and you can't even stand up." Alice gestured. "Forget Canitt. Report him to headquarters or something."
"How? I mean, I guess Bernie could …" Harriet's voice tailed off. She wouldn't be asking Bernie for anything, not even if the robot had miraculously survived the explosion. In fact, she'd be happy never to see the robot again, or the inside of the Peace Force stati
on either, for that matter. But in the meantime, there was nobody else who knew about Canitt, and nobody else who could stop him. "Steve," she said at last.
"No, I'm Alice. Steve's the car." Alice felt her head. "Do you think your brain got damaged?"
"I'll be fine," said Harriet. "Just help me up. Steve can take me to Canitt's, and I'll arrest him."
"You're not going alone. I'm coming with you."
"You can't, it's not—"
"I said no, Harriet. You can't even hold a gun!"
"Neither can you," said Harriet, nodding towards the cast. "And your ankle, how are you going to—"
"I'll manage," said Alice stubbornly.
Harriet was too sore, too tired and too drained to argue. And, if she were completely honest, she really wanted Alice by her side when she confronted Canitt. "All right," she said quietly. "We'll both go."
"Good." Alice helped her up, and together they climbed the rubble-strewn stairs to the office. The place was a disaster zone, with desks strewn around and broken terminals everywhere. In the middle of it all, Harriet could just see the big Peace Force robot, lying face down and immobile. Well, after what Bernie had done to her aunt, she hoped the thing never moved again.
"I still think you're mad," said Alice, as she helped Harriet across the office. "We should be going to the hospital, not chasing murderous crooks."
They made the garage, where they settled into the cruiser. "Steve, take us to Canitt's place," said Alice. "And step on it!"
* * *
Harriet was quiet on the way to Canitt's. Partly because her head was pounding, partly because her vision was blurry, and partly because she had nothing to say … but plenty to think about. Canitt was dangerous, obviously, but she was Peace Force and she really hoped his guards would believe her and switch sides. That was her only chance, really, because otherwise her crack strike team consisted of herself, almost certainly concussed, and an injured fifteen-year-old pickpocket with a training gun.
"Cut the sirens, Steve," she said, as they approached the inner city. "I don't want to warn him."
Alice was inspecting the gun. "So is this thing live or not?"
"I have no idea. Bernie might have locked it again."
"Can I shoot out the window and see?"
"No."
"I'll fire into the sky."
"Alice …"
"All right, all right. It'd just be handy, knowing if it worked or not."
"You really think you could shoot him?"
"Of course," said Alice simply.
Harriet stared at her, trying to determine if she was blustering. Alice's even tone belied it, though, and Harriet wondered exactly what had happened to the girl after her uncle had died. Well, that was a conversation for another day - assuming they survived this one.
"Park round the corner, Steve," said Harriet.
"I'll have to. Traffic control reports a large crowd in the area. The roads are at a standstill."
Harriet's heart sank. That didn't sound promising. "Well, get as close as you can. He's not going to notice us in a crowd."
They skirted a jam by driving along the pavement, threading between lampposts and shopfronts, and then even the pavement became impassable and they were forced to leave the car and walk.
"Oh, I did not need this," said Alice, as Harriet leaned on her shoulder.
"How's the ankle?"
"Nothing a nice long walk won't fix," remarked Alice.
They walked in silence, weaving between abandoned cars. On Dismolle, when you got into a traffic jam you just left one cab and got into another, heading in the other direction. Therefore, the empty cars were slowly sorting themselves out, reversing and turning in the street.
As they rounded the last corner and saw Canitt's premises, they froze. Harriet had been expecting a disaster of some kind, such as a big fire destroying all the evidence. Or maybe a fleet of trucks emptying out the building. What she hadn't expected was a large space ship sitting as bold as brass in Canitt's car park. It was taller than the building, the flanks scorched from its flight through the planet's atmosphere, and she understood now why the huge crowd had gathered. People were pointing, taking pictures, complaining about the illegal landing and rubbernecking in general.
Harriet and Alice pushed through the crowd, and as they reached the front row they saw the broad cargo ramp was down at the rear, and dozens of people were scurrying between the ship and the building, ferrying boxes of paperwork, computers, files and all sorts of equipment. They'd obviously been at it for hours, because the hold was almost full and many of the people were now returning from the building empty-handed.
More worrying, though, was the dozen or so heavily-armed guards forming a perimeter around the ship. They weren't Canitt's staff, they were tough-looking mercenaries with leather coats and rapid-fire blast rifles. They were facing the crowd with hard, ruthless expressions, and Harriet realised there was absolutely no chance of arresting Canitt.
She couldn't even see him, and she assumed he was already on board, ensconced somewhere in safety.
"Should we rush them now, or wait for backup?" asked Alice drily.
The question was moot, because at that moment there was a shouted order, and the mercenaries started backing towards the ship. They were so casual about it, they hadn't even un-slung their weapons, and Harriet bunched her fists in frustration. Canitt was getting away, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
Alice saw her angry expression, and gripped her elbow. "Harriet, let him go. You can't win every fight. And you definitely can't win this one."
The last few people hurried from the office and boarded the ship, and once they were on board the mercenaries followed them up the ramp, still keeping their eyes on the crowd. Then, once they were inside, the ramp began to rise, whining and groaning as it lifted towards the back of the ship. There was a thud as it closed tight, and then an explosive rumble as the engines fired.
Talking became impossible, and when the engines boosted for take-off the crowd was driven back by a wave of heat and grit and dust. For Harriet it was almost like being back in the office when the grenade went off, only in slow motion.
The noise grew even louder, and with an ear-shattering roar the ship lifted off. It powered into the sky, leaving a familiar contrail, and once the air cleared and the noise tailed off, Harriet realised Alice was tugging her sleeve. "What?"
"Call the spaceport! They might be able to stop him!"
"Yeah, I'm not really in with the spaceport people right now," said Harriet. Even so, she reached for her commset. It was worth a shot, and there was nothing else she could do. "Hello? Is that the Dismolle spaceport? This is Harriet Walsh of the—"
Boooom!
The ground shook with the force of the blast, and Harriet clamped her hands over her ears. For a wild second she thought the ship had exploded, but when she scanned the sky she saw a circular shockwave pattern, like a giant smoke ring, right at the highest point of the contrail. She had never seen anything like it, but she knew enough about ships to guess what it meant. Even though it was still close to the planet, the ship had jumped into hyperspace.
"Hello? Hello?" squawked her commset.
Harriet hung up on them, and angrily jammed the commset in her pocket.
"Come on," said Alice. "Let's get you to the hospital."
Chapter 28
It was two days later, and the Peace Force station was quiet. Harriet had a bandage on her head, and was under strict instructions to rest in bed for a few days. Alice had covered her cast in swear-words, and was sporting a thick bandage around her ankle. She'd been told not to use either for at least two weeks.
So, naturally, they were busy tidying up the damage.
"Ready?" asked Harriet.
Alice nodded.
They were struggling to right a heavy desk which had been knocked over by the blast. The job needed about three fit people, but they got it upright, finally, and it settled with a thud. Harriet blew
a strand of hair out of her eyes and looked around. The place looked a lot better now they'd swept up the broken glass, and they'd dumped all the ruined equipment in the locker room for the time being. They'd managed to set up a single terminal, but it was displaying a login screen and Harriet didn't have the password. Above the desk, on the wall, was Harriet's creased firearms certificate, mounted in a brand new frame.
At first, Harriet had no intention of returning to the station after Canitt's escape. But in the end, she found herself drawn there. She'd decided the people of Dismolle would have the Peace Force around whether they wanted them or not. Even without Bernie — or especially without Bernie — she felt she could make a difference.
As for the robot, Bernie had given her life for Harriet, and while that would never excuse the robot's involvement in her aunt's death, in some small way it showed Bernie had only been doing what she thought was best. No matter how twisted her logic.
Harriet glanced over her shoulder. Bernie was lying there still, face down on the floor in the centre of a large, blackened circle. She'd wanted to move her out of sight, but Bernie weighed a ton and they couldn't even roll her over.
As for Canitt, she hadn't given up. She remembered the big agricultural world he'd mentioned, the one he'd visited two or three systems away. She resolved to put out a wanted bulletin as soon as she gained access to the terminal. It was just a pity Bernie's handwritten notes hadn't included a password or two.
"Anyone here?" said a male voice from the entrance.
"In the back," said Harriet, and she smiled as Dave Birch walked in. "You missed all the excitement," she said drily.
He didn't reply, just breathed in with his eyes closed. Then he grinned at her. "It's a bit smoky, but that's the old Peace Force stink I know so well."
"Yeah, the smoke was meant for me."
Birch studied her. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"
"We were investigating someone, and they didn't like it."
"You get that."
"Yeah, so I discovered." Harriet changed the subject. "I don't suppose you know any passwords?" she said, indicating the terminal.
