by Simon Haynes
"There was an incident at the spaceport. The car … Steve, is badly damaged."
"Oh no! Is … is Harriet okay?"
"I have no time to explain, Trainee," said Bernie gently. "I must track a ship immediately."
"Bernie!"
"Alice, I have no data on Harriet's status, but there is a good chance she is still alive. For now, at least."
Alice stared at the robot. "Wh-what the hell happened?"
"I can answer your questions, or I can try to find Harriet. At this moment I do not have enough power for both." Bernie approached the nearest desk and held one hand over the keyboard. The screen changed to a map of the star system, with a dozen tiny points of light. "Those are vessels in transit," said Bernie, as she manipulated the map. The view zoomed in until a lone dot could be seen, crawling across the black expanse of space like an ant. "And that is the ship carrying our colleague."
"Carrying her? Where?"
"From the course, I would estimate they're taking her to Vasquez."
"By 'they', you mean Tyron Smith, right?"
"That is the only logical conclusion."
"So how do we get her back?"
"With a spaceship, clearly. And one which is not only faster than Smith's, but available to us at no cost."
They both thought on that one, and came up empty.
"Surely the authorities can do something?" protested Alice.
"We are the authorities," said Bernie gravely. "The Navy won't intervene, and in any case they have no ships in the system. The orbiter was less than useless."
"Okay, so we'll rescue Harriet ourselves." Alice felt in her pocket. "How much money to we need?"
"For a pursuit vessel and a crew of armed mercenaries? Not less than twenty thousand credits. And, in addition, roughly a week to organise everything."
"Oh." Alice frowned. "I don't get it, Bernie. Why Harriet? What could they want with her?"
"There are two possibilities. One, she's intended as a trade."
"For me, you mean."
"Yes, but that makes little sense. Why take her hostage, then leave Dismolle and head for Vasquez?"
"Maybe they saw you coming." Alice eyed the screen. "What's the other reason?"
"It's so obvious it's barely worth mentioning."
"Mention it anyway."
"I'm sure you've already grasped the implications. There is no need to—"
"Tell me, or I'll grasp you!" growled Alice.
"The incident at the spaceport was their third attempt to lure you from the office. They most likely had a watcher outside the office, who reported you leaving in uniform soon after their call. They thought you were on the way to the spaceport to investigate their bomb, and did not realise you were actually going to the primary school."
"So Harriet turned up at the spaceport, but they were expecting me?"
"Correct. And they captured Harriet instead of you."
"Smith will go nuts when he finds out."
"Indeed."
"Bernie, this is really bad."
The robot's eyebrows rose. "Steve is in ruins, my senior trainee has been kidnapped, the head of the Dismolle Residents' Association wishes to meet a my senior officer in person, and now you realise things are not going that well?"
"Harriet's good at her job. What if she gets free, captures the ship and flies it back again?"
"Harriet Walsh is a trainee, not a deity with infinite power."
They watched the dot on the screen, which was getting further away by the second, and Alice had never felt so helpless in her life. "Bernie, why is Smith after me?"
"There is a sealed box which belonged to your uncle, and it can only be opened with your DNA. Smith believes it contains information on his missing cargo."
"Hey, I remember that box! They took it off me after he died, said I'd get it back when I was old enough." Alice frowned. "Who told you about it? Was it that woman Teresa?"
"No, it was Trainee Harriet." Bernie sighed heavily. "We can only hope Smith returns her safe and sound once he discovers his mistake."
"Fat chance." Alice gestured at the terminal. "Why don't you call him and set up an exchange? Me for her."
"I cannot do such a thing."
"Why not? I could take a gun, and—"
"That is one good reason why not. The other is that the Peace Force does not negotiate with criminals. Said regulation is enshrined in history, from the time of …"
Bernie kept talking, but Alice wasn't listening. They needed a ship to chase Smith down, and she knew where to get one. Of course, Bernie would never go along with it, but the robot was easily fooled.
They both jumped as the commset rang. Alice was nearest, and scooped up the handset. "Dismolle Peace Force."
"My name is Agatha Foster," said the woman on the line. She had a cold, hard voice which brooked no nonsense. "I wish to make an appointment with your commanding officer, and I will not be fobbed off with excuses."
"Um, not right now," said Alice quickly. "We're in the middle of a case."
"Is this something the public should be aware of?"
"No, the serial killings were last week. This is far less dangerous … as long as we're left in peace to deal with it." Alice replaced the handset, cutting Foster off.
Bernie stared at her, slack-jawed. "Trainee Alice, you can't treat the public like that!"
"She's gone, hasn't she?"
"You're just creating a bigger problem down the line!"
"Yes, but I'm just a lowly recruit. Bigger problems? You and Harriet get to deal with those."
Bernie started lecturing her on the correct method of dealing with the public, but Alice was thinking about a rescue plan and the words had all the impact of a gentle summer breeze. "Sorry, Bernie, my stomach's playing up. I'm just going to see if Dave has anything to settle it."
"Oh dear. Are you unwell?" asked Bernie in concern.
"It'll pass. Just let me take something for it."
"Of course, of course. Do not let your concern for Harriet affect your health. While you seek a remedy, I will continue thinking on the matter of her rescue."
Alice ran to Birch's shop, jogged between the aisles full of goods, then continued through the front doors and hailed the first cab she saw. "To the spaceport," she said breathlessly. "And be quick, this is official Peace Force business!"
Chapter 15
As the cab sped — or rather, chugged — towards the spaceport, Alice was on the edge of her seat. She had no idea what Bernie would say when she discovered another trainee had gone missing, but there had been no time to explain. Anyway, Alice was absolutely certain Bernie would never allow her to mount the rescue attempt. And, from long experience, she knew the best way to do something people didn't want you to do, was to do it first and tell them about it afterwards.
Then her commset rang.
Alice jumped at the sound. She decided to ignore it, but then she heard Bernie's voice, slightly muffled by her pocket. It seemed the choice wasn't hers to make.
"Trainee Alice, where are you? Is your stomach any better?"
"I, er …" Alice thought quickly. Lie or tell the truth? "I know how to rescue Harriet."
"Excellent. When you return, we will go over this idea together."
"Yeah, I'm sort of already on the way to the spaceport." Alice winced as she waited for the outburst.
"I'm sorry, did you say the spaceport?"
"Yes. I'm hoping to find a ship and chase after Harriet. There was no time to lose, you see, and—"
"Good thinking, Trainee. Most efficient." Bernie hesitated. "Tell me, what is the rest of your plan?"
"What plan? I didn't mention any plan."
"The plan to rescue Harriet, once you catch up to Smith's vessel."
"Oh yeah. Still, er, thinking on that one. Over and out." Alice fumbled with the commset, cutting Bernie off before the robot could ask any more awkward questions. Then she switched it off completely, hoping there was no override to turn it on again.
> As she put the commset away, her thoughts turned to the rescue mission. Smith was key, she knew that. Bernie didn't know him, but Alice did. When he found out he'd snatched Harriet, he'd probably throw her out the nearest airlock and come straight back for Alice. Bernie mentioned twenty grand to hire a bunch of mercenaries, but Alice was certain Smith could find a lawless bunch for half that. He wouldn't mess around with fake calls to the station, either, he'd be so angry he'd just march in and take what he wanted by force.
Alice knew Harriet might already be dead, but she pushed that thought aside. All she could do was give chase, and dwelling on ifs and maybes was not in her character.
The cab turned into the spaceport car park and stopped. "No, the landing field," said Alice.
"Cannot comply. Members of the public need clearance."
Alice held up her badge. "I'm not a member of the public and I've got all the clearance I need. Now move."
The cab obeyed, and they arrived at the barrier separating the landing field from the car park. The guard spotted her uniform and waved the cab through.
"Stop!" cried Alice, and the car obeyed. Alice hopped out and ran to the guard hut. "I'm looking for a woman, first name Teresa. Where's her ship?"
"Is this official business?"
"Of course!"
"I heard about that scuffle earlier. One of your people was snatched, is that right?"
"Just tell me where the ship is. I'm in a hurry."
"Sorry." The man checked his screen. "Her ship's on pad ninety-four."
"Which way?"
The guard gestured, and Alice thanked him and leapt into the cab. She gave directions and they set off, passing several ships on the way. Alice glanced at them, noting small details with her practiced eye. Deep space liner, survey ship, miner … her teen years had been spent stowing away on one vessel after another, and she could tell them apart with ease.
When the cab drew up at pad ninety-four, Alice got a huge surprise. The ship was not what she expected, not at all, and she wondered who this Teresa really was.
— ♦ —
When Harriet came round she experienced a moment of sheer panic, because it felt like someone was choking her. She turned her face from side to side, struggling to breathe, and that's when she realised the heavy black hood was still jammed over her head.
It became easier to breathe as soon as she relaxed, and the fabric rose and fell as she filled and emptied her lungs. Her head was foggy, and thanks to the hood she was in darkness and disoriented. The only thing Harriet knew for sure was that she was lying on a mattress, or something similar, and when she tried to move she discovered she was bound hand and foot.
After she'd taken stock of her immediate situation, she turned her attention to her surroundings. That's when she became aware of a distant rumble. She recognised the sound immediately, and her heart sank. The last time she heard a noise like that, she'd been a passenger aboard a cargo ship heading for the Dismolle orbiter.
She was aboard a spaceship, then. It was in flight, heading who knew where.
She tried to move her hands, but the bonds were strong. Worse, there was only a small amount of give in the rope, and when she explored with her fingertips, she felt a cold metal tube, about as thick as her wrist. The rope was tied around it, and when she followed the tube she came to a rounded corner. In her mind she could picture the scene perfectly - she was tied to the frame of a metal bunk bed, presumably in one of the ship's cabins.
As she turned her head, she noticed a patch of light. She squinted through the weave of the heavy fabric and saw it was a strip of light shining under a closed door. She turned her head slowly and made out several bulkheads with thick beams, confirming she was definitely aboard a spaceship. And it had to be Tyron's ship at that.
Harriet recalled the moment when the loader crashed into her patrol car, and she winced at the memory. Was Steve all right? She thought she'd heard him speaking after the crash, but she couldn't remember the exact sequence of events. Well, there was nothing she could do about that now. She had to free herself, and quickly.
Easier said than done.
In the movies there was always a sharp edge nearby to cut ropes on, but Harriet knew she could spend hours rubbing her bonds against the rounded metal tubing and it would barely leave a mark. She would have been searched before they left her there, of course, and she guessed her effects had been taken away. The cheap penknife she'd bought, the bars of melted chocolate, a few credits in pocket change, and, worst of all, her Peace Force commset. Not that it would have helped: she wasn't sure of the range, but she guessed it wasn't designed for deep space.
As she lay there in the darkness, still slightly groggy from the chemicals that had knocked her out, she wondered what Smith was playing at. It made sense to capture her if he wanted to exchange her for Alice, but capturing her and then flying off into space was just crazy.
Like Bernie before her, Harriet came to the only possible conclusion: Tyron's thugs had grabbed the wrong person, and they'd fled Dismolle thinking they'd captured Alice. Thinking back to the crash, she recalled how they'd dragged her from the wreckage and put the bag over her head. It had all happened so quickly, and she hadn't seen Smith amongst the three or four people who'd surrounded her. No, he'd have been sitting in the flight deck, waiting impatiently with his finger on the launch button.
What a mess, she thought. Still, it could have been worse. Bernie had been right behind her, and would have raised the alarm by now. Alice … well, she'd be safe with Bernie. Once Smith realised his mistake, he'd have to take Harriet back to Dismolle, and …
An unpleasant thought crossed her mind. She tried to push it away, but it lingered like the memory of a bad nightmare.
Would Smith bother to take her back?
No, he wouldn't. Not when it would be so much easier to push her out the nearest airlock.
Chapter 16
Alice had been expecting a typical Family vessel: a bulky old freighter held together with mismatched spare parts and sticky tape. Instead, she found herself looking at a sleek, deep-space fighter. The ship towered over her, fast and deadly, and she could just see a transparent canopy on top, covering the cockpit. The fighter was ex-military for sure, since Alice could see lighter patches on the wings where the original weapons had been removed.
Slowly, she grinned. All of a sudden her rescue mission seemed a lot more promising. With a ship like this she'd have Harriet back in no time!
As she stood there, studying the ship's graceful lines, a ladder extended from the bottom of the hull. Teresa climbed down to the landing pad, moving gracefully, and Alice could only stare at her transformation. Instead of jeans, a blouse and high heels, the woman was now clad in combat boots, black leather pants and a matching flight jacket. Her expression was different too, harder and more focussed, and she'd tied her hair back, accentuating her cheekbones. "You look different," said Alice lamely.
"Oh, I see what you mean. I didn't want to attract attention this morning, so I put on the civvies."
"You told me you shared a freighter with your parents!"
"Yeah, well, you saw through that one, didn't you?" Teresa laughed. "The soft approach works sometimes, but you're a bit cannier than most." She stuck her hand out. "My full name is Teresa Smith, by the way."
"Alice."
"Yep, Harriet told me you preferred that."
They shook, and Alice couldn't help thinking Teresa was rather cool. Harriet was nice, and kind, and a good role model and everything, but … Teresa had a much harder edge to her. She found herself admiring the woman, despite her initial doubts. "Are we really related?"
"We are, but it goes back a long way." Teresa eyed her shrewdly. "I'm guessing you're not here for your family tree, so what's up? Why did you track me down?"
"Smith's taken Harriet."
"What does he want with her?" Teresa's face cleared. "Oh boy, his goons snatched the wrong one. That's not going to improve his mood."
"
Yes, and he's already lifted off." Alice gestured at the sky. "They're on the way to one of the outer planets."
"Oh, so that's what the ruckus was all about. Car crashes, ships lifting off in a hurry … this place has been buzzing. I should have known Tyron was behind it."
"Can you help?"
"Help?"
"I'll do whatever you want. I'll rejoin the Family, call myself … Rebecca. Anything! Just help me save Harriet."
Teresa stared at her. "I think you've got the wrong idea, kid. I came after you for one reason, and it has nothing to do with having you join the Family."
"What was it then?"
"I'm after the cargo your uncle stashed away."
Alice felt a rush of relief. She'd been prepared to walk away from the Peace Force, but instead she was being asked to give up something that might not even exist. Then, before she could blurt out something silly like 'take it all', her natural instincts kicked in. "Fifty-fifty."
"I get eighty percent, and that's final."
Alice turned and walked away. "Wow, look at all these ships," she called over her shoulder. "I bet some of them would do it for ten percent."
"They'll never catch Smith."
"You won't catch him either, if you're just going to stand around arguing about money."
"Wait! It's daylight robbery, but I'll settle for seventy percent."
Alice hesitated. "Sixty-forty."
"What about my fuel?"
"Should have thought of that before you bought a gas guzzler."
Teresa grinned. "All right, you cunning little ratbag. Sixty-forty it is."
Alice returned, and put out her hand. "You have a deal."
"Not so fast. I've got to get my hands on the box, and you've got to stick around and open it for me."
"All right, done. Can we go now?"
"Sure. You've got yourself a pilot."
They shook, and then Teresa gestured towards the ladder. "After you."
— ♦ —
Harriet was doing her best to free her hands, even though the effort seemed futile. Her wrists were sore from the rope and she was losing feeling in her fingers, but she couldn't just lie there. Sooner or later someone would show up, and she wanted to be standing behind the door with a makeshift weapon in her hands, not lying on the bed trussed up and helpless.
