by Simon Haynes
"You seem to know a lot about it," said Teresa.
"Sure. I used to be in local government."
"What, a human?" Harriet stared at the dashboard in horror. Did the cabs on Vasquez have real brains hooked up to them, like the product of a warped mind in some cheesy sci-fi flick?
"No, of course I'm not a human," said the cab sharply. "I mean, have you seen how humans drive?"
"Fair point."
"I was a finance robot, but they re-purposed me. And, since robot brains are delicate, they didn't bother erasing my old memories."
"Local government, eh? So you can overtake and overtax and the same time?"
"Oh, you're hilarious. Lucky for me, we've reached the destination."
The cab drew up, and Harriet tried to open her door.
"Where do you think you're going?" said the cab.
"Isn't this the destination?"
"Sure, but you're not getting out until you pay."
"Pay for a cab?" asked Harriet, surprised.
"Oh, you must be out of Dismolle," said the car. "I hear they run some kind of free transport lunacy."
"We do."
"Pfft," said the cab. "Next you'll be telling me there's free health care."
"There is."
"Well, this is Vasquez and we do things properly here. Thirty credits please."
Harriet felt in her pocket, and cursed. Smith's people had stolen her money when they tied her up, and she'd forgotten to get it back. "Do you two have any cash?"
"Don't look at me," said Teresa. "I spent all I have on fuel."
"I can cover it," said Alice, and she handed over a couple of credit tiles. Harriet pushed them into the payment slot, and the doors opened.
"Have a nice day," said the car, and it slammed the doors and drove off.
Harriet wondered whether they should have asked it to stay. The area wasn't exactly well-populated, and the last time she'd investigated a tumble-down warehouse three men had been waiting for her with iron bars. Worse, she had Alice and Teresa with her now. Alice could probably take care of herself, but Teresa's shoulder was obviously giving her a lot of pain, and Harriet doubted the woman could do much more than shout for help. She wondered whether Teresa had brought her gun, then smiled grimly. Of course she had.
The storage yard was fenced off, with a pair of padlocked gates barring the way. A rusty sign hanging from the fence showed the opening times, and since the place was supposed to be open at that moment, Harriet assumed the worst. She put her hands to the fence and peered through a gap, and her fears were confirmed. There was an office with a cantilevered barrier just beyond the gates, the windows smashed and the walls daubed with graffiti, inside and out. "Alice, it doesn't look good."
"Let's check inside." Alice rattled the chain, but it was secure despite the heavy coating of rust. "Should have bought bolt cutters."
"Yes, well I didn't expect we'd be breaking and entering," muttered Harriet. She glanced around, but all the nearby buildings looked deserted. Just as well, because if someone reported a couple of Dismolle cops trying to get through locked gates, the commander of the Vasquez security force would be down on her like a ton of bricks.
"Here, let me," said Teresa, and she reached into her pocket and withdrew a silver object about as long as her little finger. She bent it into a horseshoe shape, and when she pressed the contact a line of crackling, searing blue light arced between the open ends. She held the rusty chain up with one hand and used the horseshoe device on it, slicing through links like they were made of butter. The hot chunks of metal tinkled on the ground, scattering sparks, and Teresa switched off her device and tucked it away.
"Neat," remarked Alice.
"Is that thing legal?" asked Harriet.
Teresa snorted. "What do you think?"
"I think you've done this sort of thing before."
Alice ignored them and hauled on the gates. The hinges squealed and the metal frames shuddered as she dragged them open, until there was enough of a gap to slip through.
"You coming in?" Harriet asked Teresa.
"Sure. Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Harriet gave the gates another shove, adding a few inches of clearance, and then all three crossed the yard to the office. The inside had been stripped, and the barrier pole across the road was leaning at a drunken angle. Beyond, there were rows of storage units, most of them wide open and empty.
"There are still a few closed ones," said Alice, and she ran ahead to check them.
They might be closed, thought Harriet, but that didn't mean they were locked. She noticed row and grid numbers painted on the wall next to each door, starting with A1 next to the office. "Which number do we want?" she called to Alice, just as the girl pulled the first door up. The rattle drowned her voice, and she left Teresa and jogged over to stop Alice opening every door in the place.
When she got there she saw the unit's floor was littered with junk, but it was otherwise empty. "Which unit do we want?" she repeated.
"C-14."
"Let's find it, then. I don't want to hang around here any longer than we have to."
"This one's locked," said Alice, who'd ignored her and gone to try the next unit along. "Teresa, have you got that cutting thing?"
"Alice, this isn't your uncle's unit," said Harriet.
Alice and Teresa exchanged a glance. Meanwhile, Harriet tapped the badge on the shoulder of her jacket. "Peace Force, remember? I'll arrest the pair of you if you don't get a move on."
"Oh, all right. It's probably full of junk anyway."
"It'll be full of ash if I cut it open," said Teresa.
"What do you mean?"
She pointed at the lock. "Remember that magic box of yours? This storage unit has the same kind of DNA lock. If we mess with it, the contents will be vaporised."
For the first time since they'd stepped out of the cab, Harriet felt a ray of hope. "So Alice's goods could still be here?"
"Yeah, unless someone tried to break in." Teresa shrugged. "That's the beauty of these locks, though. It's pointless trying."
Alice set off at a run, and Harriet hurried after her. Teresa followed more slowly, wincing as every footstep jarred her shoulder.
They reached the end of the A row, then turned right and ran past the end of the B row. After that, C, and they turned right and jogged past the first dozen or so units, counting down the numbers. They ran faster and faster, leaving Teresa in their dust. Then, as they approached C-14, Alice let out a cry of excitement. "It's closed!"
"Yes, but is it locked?"
They skidded to a halt in front of the storage unit, and Alice put both hands on the door and prepared to lift.
"Go on!" Harriet urged her. She was so eager she wanted to push Alice aside and try the door herself.
Alice tugged on the door. "It's sealed," she said, excitement in her voice. "The cargo might still be there!"
— ♦ —
Alice's fingers shook as she reached for the grey touch pad, and her heart pounded in her throat. She couldn't believe she was this close to securing her future, once and for all. Before joining the Peace Force, she'd had to struggle for food, she'd slept rough more often than she cared to remember, and as she shivered on those park benches, or underneath dank bridges, or hid away in some grubby freighter's cargo hold, she'd promised herself again and again that one day she'd get her hands on enough money to live comfortably.
She just didn't think it would come to her this easily.
Surely the cargo had to be worth a fortune? Otherwise, why did Smith spend so much time and money looking for it?
"Alice!" growled Harriet. "Are you going to try the lock or not?"
Teresa arrived just as Alice pressed her palm to the grey pad. There was a loud click, and the three of them hauled the door up together. The metal runners rattled in their tracks, and as the roller door slammed into the stop a dim light came on. It revealed a small, enclosed area, with concrete walls and a floor paved with heavy slabs. I
n the centre of the floor, sitting on a wooden pallet, was a stack of dark green metal boxes. They had stencilled serial numbers, and each box bore the insignia of the Imperial Navy.
Alice had been expecting a few crates of goods, valuables of some kind, but these looked like boxes of ammunition, or even weapons. "This can't be right," she muttered. "Uncle wouldn't expect me to hawk this lot around arms dealers."
"Only one way to find out," said Teresa, and she went to check the nearest box.
"Wait!" shouted Harriet. "It might be rigged."
"Oh, sure. Uncle Sandon just wanted to blow his beloved niece up." Teresa struggled with the catch, then swore under her breath and took out the mini laser cutter. The tip fizzed, and then she opened the box's catch with a snap and lifted the lid.
There was a long silence.
"Well, it's certainly not weapons," said Harriet, with a shaky laugh.
Chapter 27
The box contained four neat rows of red and yellow credit tiles, and from the depth of the box, they were stacked several layers deep. Alice gazed at the tiles in awe, her eyes round. Each tile was worth fifty credits, and each box looked to contain two or three hundred tiles. She stared at the box, and then at the thirty of forty other boxes sitting on the pallet with it. "There's over half a million in cash," she managed at last.
Harriet smiled. "I see Bernie's math lessons are paying off, then."
"There's so much money!" Alice grinned at her, her eyes shining with excitement. "I can help a bunch of foster kids, or fix up that school where I gave my speech!"
Teresa snorted. "As long as I get my fifty percent, you can waste your half however you want."
"Before you two go on a spending spree, you do realise this money belongs to the Navy?" said Harriet. "Their stamps and logos are all over the boxes."
"Harriet, it's been sitting here for years!" protested Alice. "Anyway, they won't miss it. All this cash wouldn't pay for a single missile."
"Which part of 'we're Peace Force, we uphold the law' are you having trouble with?" asked Harriet softly.
"My uncle died for this money," said Alice stubbornly. "Where was the Navy then, eh?"
"You can't keep it."
Suddenly there was a gun in Teresa's hand. "I don't want to spoil your little fantasy, but if you think I'm giving up my share—"
"Teresa!" protested Alice.
"Okay, you give your half back," said Teresa. "Tell them it's all you found, if you want to be a do-gooder. Me, I learned long ago to take whatever I can get my hands on."
"Put the gun away," said Harriet quietly.
"I don't think so, copper." Teresa grabbed a dozen credit tiles with her free hand. "This is going to set me up for life. No more scrimping for fuel, taking dodgy little jobs to pay for repairs. I can buy a really nice place with this, get a few robots and…" Her voice tailed off as she noticed something, and she held the credit tiles up for a closer look. Then, Alice and Harriet forgotten, she dug into the box, spilling credit tiles onto the floor. "No, no, no!" she breathed.
"What is it?" demanded Alice.
"I bet they're fake," said Harriet.
"It's worse than that," said Teresa desperately. "They're stamped!"
"What does that mean?" asked Alice.
Teresa tossed her a tile, and Alice saw what it meant. The tile bore the Imperial Navy's seal on both sides, with the words 'Internal use only' printed underneath. For a split second she wondered if they could sand the markings off, but the seal was etched deep into the surface. "So they're stamped. But what does it mean?" she demanded.
"The Navy use these things aboard ships, in their bases … everywhere," said Teresa dully. "Vending machines, canteens, bonuses, bounties, you name it. It stops their people running off and spending all their cash on booze … or worse. Plus the Navy gets to charge double for everything."
"But surely we can exchange it for the real stuff?"
"Oh sure, for a fraction of its value. It's not even currency!" Teresa swept the box onto the floor, scattering credit tiles. "We'd be lucky to get twenty grand for the whole lot on the black market."
"But … my uncle! He—"
"He may not have realised. Probably popped the lid on a box, saw all the cash and decided to steal it on the spot."
"And Smith?" asked Harriet.
"He's got plenty of black market contacts. It's probably worth a a hundred grand to him, certainly enough to chase it as hard as he did."
"Oh well," said Harriet. "I guess you won't object to giving it back then."
"No!" said Alice. "It can't all be marked. Teresa, give me your cutter!"
Teresa shrugged and handed it over, but Alice's hopes faded as she cut open box after box, grabbing handfuls of tiles from each and inspecting them feverishly. They were all marked, every single one. "It's worthless," she muttered at last, devastated. To have so much within her grasp, only to see it slip away, was unbearable. And her stupid uncle, with his grand scheme to set her up for life. It had cost him his life, and ruined hers, for nothing!
"Not quite worthless," said Teresa.
"What, you still want half?" snorted Harriet.
"No," said Teresa. "I'm taking it all." And with that she raised her weapon, aiming it directly at Harriet's chest.
"Oh, come on," growled Harriet. "You're not going to risk arrest over this silly little haul, are you?"
"I'm not risking anything," said Teresa. "Kneel down, hands behind your heads. I'll make it quick."
"Teresa, it's not enough to kill for," said Harriet urgently.
Teresa gave her a nasty smile. "It wouldn't be the first time."
"Take all of it!" said Alice. "I don't care about the money."
"Yeah, and have the cops on my tail for the next few years? No thanks."
"We won't tell anyone. Right, Harriet?"
Teresa raised the gun. "This way I know you won't talk. Now, on your knees."
"Teresa, your ship is all over the spaceport logs," said Harriet quietly. "When they find our bodies, they'll work it out. You'll never get away."
"You're forgetting this storage unit has a DNA lock," said Teresa, with a grin.
Harriet glanced towards the roller door. "What do you mean?"
"After I've emptied this place, I'll lock you in … and then I'll cut the lock." Teresa spread her fingers. "Pffft. Atoms, the pair of you."
Alice's face turned pale. "You wouldn't do it!"
"Sure I will."
"Bernie knows where we are. And she knows you're with us."
"Yeah, but I'll pay Bernie a little visit before I leave this miserable little system for good. I've had plenty of practice covering my tracks." Teresa gestured with the gun. "Now get on your knees. I won't ask again."
"Teresa, I'm begging you," said Harriet. "You and I don't get along, but what about Alice? What did she ever do to you?"
"Apart from getting in the way, you mean?"
"She's just a kid," said Harriet, a pleading note in her voice. "Don't do this!"
Teresa raised the gun, her face expressionless, and Alice realised she had one final chance to save them both. If she jumped Teresa right now, she'd get shot for sure, but it might give Harriet a chance to fight back. She was tensing, getting ready to spring, when there was a loud buzz and a flash of light. Alice froze, thinking Teresa had seen her preparing to jump and shot her … but Alice hadn't been hit. Then she glanced at Harriet and saw a smoking hole in her sister's uniform, just above the waist. Alice stared at Harriet in shock, hardly believing what she was looking at, but then something strange happened: there was a thud, and when she looked round she saw Teresa lying crumpled on the floor. Confused, she stared at Harriet, and that's when she saw the muzzle of a blaster poking through the smoking hole in her uniform. "You shot first!" she said accusingly.
"Yeah, well I gave her a chance." Harriet crossed to Teresa in two strides and kicked the woman's stunner away. Then she crouched to check her pulse.
"Is she…?" began Alice.
<
br /> "She'll live," muttered Harriet. She drew the gun from her jacket and checked the dial. "She's lucky. I thought I'd set it higher than that."
— ♦ —
Harriet glanced at Alice, who still looked stunned. "Are you all right?"
"Five seconds ago you were pleading for your life! If you had a gun all along, why didn't you just shoot her?"
"For the last time, Alice. We're Peace Force! I had to give her a chance to come good."
"And then you shot her."
"She was determined to go through with it. I could see it in her eyes." Harriet shrugged. "I guess we finally met the real Teresa Smith."
"Remind me never to look at you funny," muttered Alice. "Anyway, how come you brought the gun along? Getting you to carry a weapon is next to impossible."
"I didn't trust Teresa. Never did."
"Why not? She's been helpful all this time, so why were you suspicious?"
"Tell you later. We have to sort this lot out first." Harriet picked up an unopened box and tested the weight. "These things weigh a ton. We're going to need a van or something."
Alice eyed the boxes piled high on the pallet. "It's all worthless, Harriet. No better than a bunch of parking tokens. It was so stupid of my uncle to die for this."
Harriet patted her on the shoulder sympathetically, then nodded at Teresa. "Give me a hand with her?"
"Yeah. What are we going to do with her though?"
"Hand her over to security."
They dragged Teresa outside, and while Harriet propped her against the wall, Alice closed the roller door and fastened the lock.
"Good idea," said Harriet.
"I'm tempted to leave it open," said Alice. "If someone took the lot it would save us a load of bother."
Harriet shook her head. "Best if nobody disturbs the scene before the local security people arrive. They'll need statements from us, too, if they're going to book Teresa."
"Isn't that going to be a problem? You told me the commander wasn't happy with you last time."
Harriet remembered her promise to run any future missions past the Vasquez commander. "This wasn't a mission, we were just getting your stuff back."
"Yeah, bet she doesn't see it like that." Alice tilted her head. "Is that a siren?"
