by Simon Haynes
"Yes, that's me. Martin said you were coming." Moira got up. She was wearing a jumper, a pair of slacks and sneakers. The jumper had seen better days, and the sneakers had a small hole in one toe. There was a stack of printed files on the desk, and Moira picked them up and handed them to Ben. "You can carry these. Don't lose them, they're important."
"We're here for weapons, not a bunch of paperwork," said Alice.
"Those are the plans," said Moira. "Worthy's been collecting the rest of the gear." She looked Alice up and down. "I hope you've got a van or something. There's quite a lot."
"I'm sure we'll manage."
They headed into the back garden, then round the side to the carport, where Moira turned the lights on, illuminating a big pile of equipment set against a nearby wall. There were several power tools Alice didn't recognise, along with drills and grinders, and there were bundles of metal rod and strapping, lengths of timber and coils of wire rope. To one side there were a couple of wooden crates, and when she looked inside she saw a couple of crossbows and a bundle of feathered bolts with very sharp points.
Her heart sank as she saw it all, and she realised it was going to take a lot longer than an hour to get it all back to Chirless. "Can you thin this out a bit? We're in a real hurry."
"I could, but we'd probably have to come back again," said Moira.
"Wait a minute, what do you mean 'we'? I'm only taking your robot."
"The hell you are," said Moira firmly. "You need my expertise."
"But we're in the middle of a war!"
"All the more reason. Who else is going to turn this lot into weapons?"
"Fine, suit yourself," said Alice with a shrug. "Now, do you have a trolley or something? We've got to get this out front."
"Can you bring your transport through the garage?"
Alice eyed the back garden. "Not through, exactly, but I can certainly get it a bit closer."
— ♦ —
It took well over an hour to load the equipment, complicated by the fact they had to saw most of the planks up to get them into the ship. Worthy helped, losing his snooty butler manner as he used a hand saw to slice through the hardwood like butter, his hand moving so fast it was a blur. Ben held the timber down for the robot, bracing it with one foot to hold it steady.
As time dragged on, Alice grew more and more restless. She wanted to call Harriet, to check on everyone, but there was still a risk the enemy was listening in. She just hoped there hadn't been any more attacks while she was away.
Finally they were ready, and Alice closed the hatch and led the others to the flight deck. She put Moira and Worthy into the passenger seats, ensured their harnesses were secure, then sat next to Ben up front.
"Where's the pilot?" asked Worthy.
Alice gave him a smile. "That'd be me."
"You're not old enough," protested the robot. "It takes at least five years to obtain a license, and you can't be more than sixteen."
"Yeah, but I don't have a license." Alice started the engines, drowning out Worthy's frantic reply, and before the robot could unbuckle himself and leap from the ship, they were airborne. The house vanished behind them as they shot towards the city, and before long the leafy suburbs had disappeared, replaced with warehouses and buildings. There were fewer streetlights, but Arnie had every millimetre of the city plotted out, and there was no chance of hitting a stray building.
They flew directly towards the Peace Force station, and as they approached, the ship jinked sideways. Alice grabbed at her seat to steady herself, and she blinked as a blazing burst of gunfire went by. As they neared the rooftop landing pad she saw the apartment blocks surrounding it, many of the windows lit from within. The fire was coming from several of the darkened windows, and she realised the enemy had finally taken the high ground. "Hang on, people," called Alice. "This could get rough."
More shots whizzed by, and Arnie did his best to put the gunners off, sliding through the air sideways, rising and dropping unexpectedly, and all the time getting closer to their landing spot. "Can they hurt us?" asked Alice quietly.
"I won't know until they hit us," said Arnie.
"It's just handguns, right?"
"Do you want me to land, or scan the enemy?"
"There's no point landing if they can shoot us all when we get out."
The nose came up, and the ship blasted into the sky. Several shots went past, and then the shooters gave up as they realised the range was too great. Once the ship was high enough, Arnie turned the camera on the buildings, using a low-light filter to scan every window. "From the points of origin, I have targets in these locations," he said, painting the windows with red squares.
"So what can we do about them?" asked Alice.
"If I were still a military jet, I'd launch missiles and take them all out from here." Arnie almost sighed. "Alas, I am unarmed."
"You might be, but we're not." Alice got out of her chair, and went to find Moira. "Are any of those crossbows working?"
"I need to string them, but they should be."
"What's the range?"
"They're accurate to fifty or sixty metres. It falls off after that, but you'll still make a decent hole."
"Okay, get one ready. We've got four shooters in the buildings around the station, and we can't unload the gear until they're dealt with."
Moira stared at her. "By dealt with, you mean—"
"What do you think we need your weapons for? Target practice?" Alice gestured impatiently. "Get the thing ready and show me how to use it. They've shot at me half a dozen times today, and I'm not taking any more."
"I have a suggestion," said Arnie. "Actually, two suggestions, but the first is somewhat impractical."
"Go on."
"I could land on each apartment building in turn, and you could search each floor until you locate the shooter, then neutralise them with your weapon."
"That better be the impractical idea," said Alice.
"It was. The other idea is as follows. If we land near the stairwell, on top of the Peace Force station, my wings will shield you while you unload the equipment. Also, it's unlikely the shooters will be able to see you in the darkness."
Alice hesitated. She was fed up with being hunted, but Harriet needed the gear in a hurry. Plus she'd never fired a crossbow, and she might put the first dozen bolts through the wrong window. "Okay, set down. But I want you out of there at the first sign of trouble."
"Agreed."
Alice took her seat, and they dropped between the apartment buildings towards the rooftop landing. The enemy opened fire, but their weapons lacked the power and range to hit the ship, and any shots which did find their mark splashed harmlessly on the armour.
They set down with a bump, gunfire still bracketing them from above. It was an unnerving sensation, sitting under the transparent canopy while blaster fire rained down, and Alice didn't feel safe until she joined the others below the ship.
Harriet emerged from the stairwell, looking up in surprise as she saw Arnie's wing overhead.
"Keep down!" hissed Alice.
A shot hit the ground nearby, scattering stones, and Harriet ducked and ran to the group. "Good to see you, Moira. I thought you might come." Harriet glanced at the robot. "Worthy. Glad you're here."
"I'm lucky to make it," said the robot. "Did you know this trainee doesn't have a pilot's license?"
"Let's deal with that later, shall we?" Harriet turned to the stairwell. "Everyone out," she called, "and keep your heads down!"
They were joined by several of the others, Caldavir amongst them. He stopped when he saw his wife, then shook his head with a wry smile. "Couldn't stay away, I see."
"Someone has to make sure these things work," said Moira. "And we both know you can't cut a piece of wood without chopping your own fingers off."
They hugged, and then the unloading began in earnest.
Chapter 23
While they were lugging the equipment to the ground floor, Alice took the opportunit
y to speak with Harriet. "I never back down from a fight. You know that, right?"
"Sure. I've got the scars to prove it."
Alice glanced up the stairs, but they were alone. "People could die here, sis. Why don't we load everyone aboard Arnie and get the hell out of here? It'd be a tight fit, but—"
"Do you remember when we were battling that guy Canitt? He landed a freighter in the middle of the city, unloaded a bunch of armed mercs, and there was nothing we could do about it." Harriet gestured. "While Darting's people are concentrating on us, the rest of the city is going about its business, but if we leave, Darting is going to turn on them instead. We have to stay, we have to fight, and we have to win."
"Go Harriet!" said Alice admiringly. "I can see you hunting them with crossbows yet."
"I hope it won't come to that. We've charged the blasters up, and if Dave and I can stun enough of the enemy they might pack it in for the night."
"Did you get Bernie back?"
Harriet shook her head. "Couldn't charge her, couldn't move her."
They reached the main office, where they unloaded the gear they were carrying. Moira was there, setting up the tools, getting tables together to use as workbenches, and laying out her plans on a desk.
"That's the last of the stuff," said Birch, as he came in carrying several lengths of timber.
"Then let's get started," said Moira. She indicated a drawing. "Grab a pencil, and transfer that shape onto the wood. You two, bring me the flat bar. Worthy, you're doing the metal cutting. Make sure the sparks don't set anything on fire."
"Yes ma'am."
"Dave, can you use a bandsaw?"
Birch looked dubious. "I'm not that much of a handyman."
"I'll set it up for you. Just keep your fingers out of the blade. It's easy, honest."
Harriet could see everything was under control, and she went to check on McCluskey, who was keeping watch. "Any sign of them?" asked Harriet.
"They're taking shots at your robot now and then, but that's all."
"Wasting their time," remarked Harriet. She peered over the barrier to see Bernie about twenty metres away, a hulking shadow in the street. If only they'd got her closer! Earlier, she'd considered going off to find a power lead, but the robot sucked in vast quantities of electricity, and even a heavy duty lead would have fried itself under the load. Back in Dismolle, the charge cables were as thick as Harriet's thumb, and they were not something you picked up at the local hardware store.
Harriet frowned as she heard a roar overhead. "Where's Alice going now?" she demanded.
"Maybe she's moving out of firing range."
Instead, the roar got louder, and to Harriet's surprise the jet landed in the street, right next to Bernie. Ben appeared on the ladder, and Harriet almost shouted with joy as she spotted the cable in his hands. As he dragged the end towards the robot, shots rained down from above, but they splashed harmlessly on the ship's wings.
Ben plugged the cable in, then retreated to the ship. Through the transparent canopy, Harriet could see Alice looking at her, her face illuminated by the instruments. Alice gave her a thumbs up, and Harriet responded.
"Smart girl," said McCluskey. "She's got a real brain on her."
Harriet glanced up at the building, and saw a darkened window flash with light as one of the shooters fired on the ship. She noted the exact location, then returned to the main office. The place was a hive of activity, and it was hard to think with all the noise from the machinery. Birch was enveloped in a cloud of sawdust, a rough wooden stock taking shape on the bandsaw he was using. Worthy was in the canteen, using an angle grinder, hot yellow sparks raining on the tiled floor. Others were cutting lengths of wire rope, chopping metal rod into short, even lengths, or putting points on the finished bolts with a grindstone.
Harriet went to find Moira, who was busy organising everyone. "Did you string that crossbow?" Harriet shouted.
"Yeah, over here."
They went to a table at the back of the room, which held a collection of weapons. The slingshots were laid out, and Moira had got someone to cut a metal rod into short pieces, creating half a bucket of ammunition. Each piece was a stubby metal cylinder, even heavier than the original ball bearings. Next to them were two crossbows, each carefully finished with polished wooden stocks, the metal parts lovingly painted in black. "I had these already," said Moira. "The ones we're making now won't look anything like this."
Harriet took up one of the crossbows. There was a stirrup at the front, and Moira showed her how to put her foot in the end and cock the weapon by pulling the wire string back with both hands. "Take it easy," she said. "Normally you'd wear gloves for this."
It was an effort, but the string snicked into place, and Harriet withdrew her foot and held the weapon level. Moira took one of the fletched bolts and showed it to her. "Don't load it here," she advised Harriet. "You don't want this thing going off indoors, believe me." Instead, she pointed out the channel on top of the crossbow. "This catch will stop the bolt falling off. Aim along here, pull the trigger here. Don't fire it without a bolt in, or you'll wreck it."
Harriet pointed the crossbow across the office and sighted along the top.
"You'll have to judge the distance," said Moira. "Always aim high to start with, and be sure to pick out an aiming point. Watch the flight of the bolt. If it's low, aim higher, and vice versa. Once you get the range, be sure to memorise the aiming point. Every time you shoot at that spot, the bolt will hit the same place." Moira glanced at the workbench, where Caldavir was cutting up rods to make bolts. "Unfortunately, the bolts are all going to be different weights, so you're going to get variations. If there's time, I'll get Worthy to weigh them and put them in matching sets. Even a gram or two will make a difference."
Harriet took a bolt and tested the point. It was needle sharp, and she almost drew blood.
"Of course, if you're trying to kill something, you'd use broadheads," said Moira. "They'd cut everything up when the bolt hits the target. These things are just target points, so they'll hurt like hell but they probably won't kill."
"Sure, and if you hit someone in the head they'll only need a bandage."
Moira glanced at her. "When I landed with Alice, those people were trying to shoot us down. They want to kill us, and if I were you, I'd make sure I put them down first."
Harriet didn't want to put anyone down. She wanted to go back to Dismolle, sit in the office with a nice cup of coffee, and deal with the minor cases that showed up once or twice a month. "I want to avoid bloodshed, if possible," she said quietly.
Moira looked thoughtful. "Look, there is something I can do. It'll take a bit longer, but we can weld a short piece of rod on the end of each bolt. It'll be blunt instead of pointed, a bit like a small mallet."
"Will they still work?"
"Oh yeah. Hit someone with one of those and they'll feel like they've been punched. And I mean really hard, not a love tap."
"Can you do that?"
"Sure. Wait a sec." Moira went over to the bench, and sparks flew as she cut short pieces off a thick metal rod. Harriet covered her ears against the screech of the angle grinder, then turned away and shielded her eyes as Moira tacked the pieces to a handful of bolts with a welder. She dipped the ends in a bucket of water, the red-hot metal hissing violently, but before she brought them over to Harriet she showed the bolts to her husband, who was busy cutting rod into lengths. He took one look and nodded. Then Moira brought the bolts over to Harriet.
Each rod had a club-like head, and Harriet could only imagine what it would feel like to be hit by one of the heavy bolts. "These could still do a hell of a lot of damage," she said.
"You don't have to shoot at people," said Moira. "Break a couple of windows. Smash a few in the walls. They'll get the message, I'm sure."
"Darting's people are more scared of her than me. I don't think we're going to drive them off with near-misses."
"Then you need to go out there and change their minds." M
oira handed her a bundle of bolts and took up the second crossbow. "Come on, let's go up to the roof. We'll give those shooters something to think about."
— ♦ —
It was dark on the roof, but the apartment buildings blazed with light. Harriet and Moira left the safety of the stairwell and crossed to the parapet at the front of the building, where they crouched low behind the concrete wall. Harriet risked a glance at the nearest apartment block, counting floors until she identified the window the shooter had been using. It was just a darkened square, and there was no sign of anyone watching from inside.
She pointed the window out to Moira, who took the crossbow and fitted a bolt. She rested her elbow on the parapet, crouched until the bow was aiming at a point high on the facing building, then pulled the trigger.
Chack!
The crossbow jumped, and seconds later Harriet heard a clang as the bolt struck the building. "Where did it go?" she asked.
"Just below, I think." Moira reloaded and fired again, and there was a crash of breaking glass. "That'll wake them up. Keep your head down."
Harriet obeyed, and seconds later there was a burst of blaster fire. "Well, you certainly picked the right window," said Moira, as the shots sprayed the concrete roof behind them.
Harriet glanced over her shoulder. Any second now the shooters in the other buildings would start firing as well, and the parapet would only protect them from one side.
They both loaded their crossbows and aimed above the window. Harriet felt the wooden stock against her cheek, cool and smooth, and she felt a sense of unreality as she prepared to fire. When she joined the Peace Force, she hadn't really seen herself crouched on a rooftop firing home-made weapons at an apartment block.
There was another burst from the blaster, and as the flashes illuminated the shattered window, she squeezed the trigger. The crossbow jumped, jarring her cheek, and she lost sight of the bolt. A split second later Moira fired as well, and all of a sudden the gunfire stopped.
They sank down behind the wall to reload, then exchanged a glance. "Do you think we got them?" asked Harriet.
"We stopped them firing at us," said Moira. "That's all that matters."