Alpha Minor

by Simon Haynes

  In the cab she outlined her idea.

  "No way," said Teresa flatly. "I am not going to impersonate a Peace Force officer."

  "Oh, go on! We can't do it, we're both too young. But you must be at least thirty, and—"

  "Twenty-six," said Teresa, with a frown.

  "Really? Anyway, you'd pass for a captain no problem. And this woman's over eighty if she's a day. She'll never notice your complete and utter lack of training. And we'll have a day or two before you meet her. There's plenty of time to find you a uniform big enough, and to smooth out some of your rough diction."

  Teresa stared at her. "You have a funny way of asking someone for a favour."

  Harriet shrugged. "I tell it like it is. So, you in?"

  "What do I get?"

  "Free bed and board until you're fit and well. For a week, at least," she added hurriedly, before it became an open-ended invitation. "Don't worry, Alice will cook for you, I'm sure."

  "I'll think about it. I don't want to get arrested for impersonating an officer."

  "Who's going to arrest you? It's an official request, just to get us out of a hole."

  The cab drew up outside the Peace Force station, and as she got out Harriet gazed up at the solid concrete facade with affection. The building was as solid as a bunker, and looked like it had been designed to stop a direct hit from a giant meteorite. It was permanent, strong and dominating, just like the Peace Force.

  They entered through the big front doors, where Dave Birch was sitting behind the counter with his manuscript. He looked up as they walked in, and beckoned urgently to Harriet. "You've got big trouble," he muttered, concern etched into his lined face.

  "That's all right, Teresa's here to help."

  "Not her. Your robot pal is dealing with that Foster woman from the Association."

  "Yeah, I know, but it's okay. I've got a plan. Teresa's going to dress up as a captain."

  Dave glanced at Teresa. "Okay. If you say so."

  "Before you retired, did you meet any captains around her age?"

  "Can't say I did, but once you're as old as me, all thirty-year-olds look like teens."

  "I'm twenty-six!" protested Teresa.

  "Well, however old you are, I hope you're ready to put on a show." Dave jerked his thumb towards the office. "Foster's in there now, ripping strips off Bernie."

  "She's here?" demanded Harriet. "Now?"

  "You sure pick things up quick," remarked Dave. "Maybe you should be a detective or something. When you're old enough, that is."

  Harriet put her eye to the crack between the doors leading to the office, and saw Foster literally jabbing a finger into Bernie's chest. "This place is run like a nursery school. I demand to see the commanding officer, immediately!"

  Harriet grabbed Alice. "Go in there, and get Foster into the staff room."

  "How? At gunpoint?"

  "No! Offer her a coffee."

  "Oh, sure. No problem."

  Alice left, and Harriet gestured at Teresa. "The minute Foster is out of the way, we're getting you into uniform."

  "Uh-uh. You said I'd have a couple of days. You said my speech was rough."

  "You'll be fine. Just say 'ah-hmm' and 'yes, ma'am' and salute a lot." Harriet paused. "You can tell her I'm doing a great job, too."

  "Sure. What's another lie on top of so many?"

  "And try and look older."

  "Apparently, that won't be a problem," muttered Teresa.

  Harriet peered through the door and saw Alice leading Foster away. Immediately, she darted into the office, but before she reached the armoury, Bernie intercepted her.

  "Oh, what are we going to do?" asked Bernie plaintively. "What are we going to do?"

  Harriet almost laughed out loud. The robot was stepping from one foot to the other like a four-year-old busting for a pee. "Relax, I've got an idea. Just go through and make sure Alice doesn't poison her."

  "Is that likely?" asked Bernie, looking alarmed.

  "You obviously haven't tried her coffee." Quickly, Harriet opened the armoury and started pulling uniforms off the shelf, holding them up to Teresa until she had an outfit roughly the right size.

  "What rank is this?" asked Teresa.

  "No idea."

  "You don't know what your superior officers wear?"

  "I've never met one." Harriet left Teresa to change, and ran to Bernie, who was still standing at the door to the staff room. The robot looked like one of the gladiators she'd read about once, in the moments before they ran into the arena to face almost certain death. "Listen Bernie, I need you to follow my lead. Our captain has just arrived, and—"

  "What captain, Trainee Walsh? This station has no—"

  "Shh!" Harriet waved to silence the big robot. "I've found a stand-in, and it should be enough to fool the Foster woman." She remembered Foster's cold, hard expression, and wondered whether anyone had ever managed to fool her. Still, it was their only shot. "Just play along. Call her captain. Salute. That kind of thing."

  "Call who captain?" demanded Bernie.

  "You will address me as Captain."

  Bernie and Harriet spun round simultaneously, and stared in surprise. Teresa's transformation into a Peace Force officer was complete, and with the uniform, insignia and cap, she looked every inch the captain she was pretending to be. Harriet felt a glimmer of hope, and she took Teresa by the elbow.

  "Other side," muttered Teresa, with a pained look.

  "Sorry," whispered Harriet, and swapped to her left.

  "This is never going to work," Teresa whispered back.

  "Sure it will. You're great at lying." And before Teresa could reply, Harriet ushered her into the staff room.

  Chapter 25

  Agatha Foster was seated at the head of the largest table, looking down at a coffee mug with a dubious expression on her lean face. "Are you certain this is decaffeinated? Strong beverages have a negative effect on my constitution."

  Behind her, Alice spread her hands and gave Harriet a helpless look.

  "We only serve decaf here," said Teresa sternly. "My officers work better with a clear mind."

  Foster looked up. "And you are?"

  "Captain Teresa Smith, Dismolle Peace Force."

  "Hmph. You're young for a captain." Foster looked around. "The students in most high schools are older than the officers in this station."

  "The smarter ones graduate quicker. In the Peace Force we believe in promoting on merit, not seniority."

  "Things have changed for the worse since my sister's time."

  "Your sister was a Peace Force officer?"

  "Enid was a superintendent, and she didn't run a preschool centre like this one. No, she had proper officers." Foster stared up at Teresa. "How long have you served?"

  "Er, nine years."

  "Really? I'm surprised you lasted that long. Which station were you based at?"

  Teresa glanced at Harriet, and Harriet could tell what she was thinking. Foster was starting to ask some very awkward questions, and the whole situation was turning into a major train wreck.

  "She served in the Forzen office, with distinction I might add," said a deep, male voice.

  Everyone turned to the entrance, where a tall, distinguished officer had just walked in. He was wearing a dark grey uniform with blue piping, and there was a broad row of medals on his chest. His peaked cap was set just so, and as he walked to Foster's table everyone just stared.

  "I trust my staff have seen to your needs, madam?"

  "Indeed, indeed," said Foster, recovering quickly. "Although the coffee that young girl put in front of me—"

  "I will note it in her service record."

  "Well, perhaps that's a little harsh."

  "Nonsense. I run a tight ship, madam. Everything must be in perfect order."

  Foster smiled at him, and Harriet could almost hear the glaciers creaking. "I'm glad to see someone more senior is in charge. For a while there, I thought this place was a nursery school! I mean … a robot,
and a handful of mere children. Who'd believe it?"

  "Ah-hah, madam. A very witty observation."

  Alice, Teresa and Harriet were still staring at the apparition, open-mouthed. Bernie seemed to have switched herself off, either deliberately or out of severe shock.

  "Well, I mustn't dally," said Foster. "You have important work to do, I'm sure."

  "Of course madam, as do you." The man offered her his gloved hand, and she took it willingly. Then he led her to the door, and on the way Dave Birch gave Harriet a sideways look and mouthed 'You Owe Me'.

  Fervently, she agreed.

  As the two of them left the office, she heard Foster's voice drifting back to the staff room. "My late sister, rest her soul, once mentioned a trainee called David Birch at the Chirless office. Was he a relation, by any chance?"

  Birch's response was inaudible.

  "Well," said Harriet.

  "My goodness," said Bernie, miraculously alert.

  "Blimey," said Alice.

  "Where did you get the old guy?" demanded Teresa. "And why did you force me into this kit if you already had someone else lined up for the job?"

  — ♦ —

  Bernie was much happier now the Foster conundrum had been solved. "I knew my idea to install Mr Birch's grocery store in the reception area was a good one."

  Harriet didn't have the heart to correct the robot, even though she'd thought of it. Bernie had been through enough already.

  "I have more good news," said Bernie. "My repairs to Steve — the patrol cruiser, I mean — are almost complete."

  "That's great!" said Harriet. "I meant to ask, but with all this going on…"

  "Come, let me show you."

  Teresa gestured. "I'll stay here, if that's okay. I could use a jug or two of that coffee." She glanced at Harriet. "It's not really decaf, is it?"

  "In the Peace Force? Pfft."

  Harriet and Alice followed Bernie to the garage, where Steve was covered with a large drop-cloth. Harriet had been feeling a little apprehensive, because she didn't see how Bernie could have performed delicate bodywork repairs with her huge, metal fingers. But her fears were dispelled as she studied the drop-cloth, because the lines of the car underneath flowed in unbroken fashion from front to rear.

  "Ready?" said Bernie, and she twitched the cloth away without waiting for an answer.

  Well, the bodywork was smooth. Harriet had to admit that. The panels fitted beautifully, and the joins were almost seamless. It must have taken the robot hours of painstaking labour, and the only remaining problem was the panels themselves, which were a bodgy mis-match of advertising hoardings, street signs and flattened-out garbage cans. "It looks great, Bernie. Once you get the paint on nobody will know the difference."

  "Paint?"

  "Sure. To cover up all those words." Harriet tilted her head. "And that underwear model."

  "But that is just decoration. Functionally, it's perfect."

  "I'm not driving around with that guy's butt on the door."

  "I don't mind," said Alice. "It's kind of hot."

  Harriet frowned at her.

  "Artistically, I mean," said Alice.

  They returned to the office, where Teresa had arranged a tray of coffees. "Thought you could all use a hit."

  Harriet thanked her, and when she sipped the brew she realised Teresa was good at one thing at least.

  "Wow, that's really good coffee!" said Alice. "And Bernie, you should have seen her flying a ship. It was amazing!"

  "Maybe we should sign her up too," said Harriet pointedly. "We could use someone older around here."

  "No thanks," said Teresa flatly. "I couldn't handle the day to day drudge. Way too boring."

  Alice looked disappointed. Then she put her coffee down and pulled out the photograph of her parents. "Bernie, can I scan this on the office computer?" she asked, waving it gently. "It's the only pic I have of my folks."

  "Peace Force equipment is not for personal use, Trainee Alice."

  Harriet rolled her eyes. "Bernie, surely we can make an exception just this once."

  "Well, you all performed well under pressure, so perhaps just this once." Bernie put her hand out for the photo.

  Alice eyed the big fingers with some misgivings, but the robot insisted so she handed it over.

  Bernie inspected both sides, then handed it back.

  "So I can scan it?" asked Alice.

  "If you wish. But I should warn you, the office scanner won't pick up the writing on the back."

  Everyone stared.

  "What writing on the back?" demanded Alice. She turned the photo over, but Harriet could see it was blank.

  "My vision includes ultra-violet wavelengths. The scanner does not."

  Teresa leapt up and joined them, the coffee forgotten.

  "But — what does it say?" asked Alice.

  "There's a bank account and a pin number," said Bernie.

  "Just written on the back in plain text?" demanded Teresa.

  "Oh no, it's encrypted, but it was trivial to decipher. I am, after all, a code-cracking specialist."

  "And I thought you just cracked windows and floor tiles," murmured Harriet. But she was excited all the same. "This might lead to a fortune, Alice. It could be your lucky day."

  "Doubt it, my uncle was always broke."

  "What about Smith's cargo?" suggested Teresa. "Maybe Sandon fenced it and banked the cash."

  Alice glanced at her. "Whatever this is, we still have a deal."

  "What deal?" demanded Harriet. "What are you talking about?"

  Alice explained. "I offered Teresa half of whatever was in the box. It's her payment for helping to rescue you."

  Harriet had no answer to that. She had no idea Alice had made such a deal, and she was suddenly ashamed she'd been so hard on her. "Thanks," she said gruffly.

  Alice turned to Bernie, gesturing with the photo. "Can you tell which bank this is from?"

  "Certainly. The bank has a branch on Vasquez. Would you like me to check the balance?"

  "Of course!"

  Bernie gestured at a nearby terminal, and the screen showed a financial page. At the bottom, under credits, the amount was two hundred and fifty credits.

  There was a lengthy silence.

  "Well, it'll pay a few bills I guess," said Alice. She turned to Teresa. "I'm sorry. I thought, maybe—"

  "It's fine, kid. And don't worry about the deal. I'm not after your pocket money."

  At that moment the terminal beeped, and a popup appeared. The window contained a man's face, up close, and as he began to speak Alice stared in disbelief. "Uncle?"

  "Hey, Rebbie! I guess you found the photo, huh?"

  "Uncle, it's me!"

  "As you've guessed by now, I hid Smith's cargo away. It was just too tempting, my dear."

  "Uncle?"

  "Alice," said Harriet gently. "It's a recording."

  Alice shook her hand off. "I knew that."

  "I left the cargo in a storage unit on Vasquez, near the spaceport. I've left the exact details after this message, but know that I want you to sell it all. I'm sure you're smart enough to do that. Just be careful, there are lots of bad people out there." The screen flickered. "I thought you could use the money to further your education, or to travel … whatever you want." Sandon's face creased into a smile. "I bet you'll become a truly wonderful person, and whatever you do with your life, just know I'm really proud of you." Then he leaned closer. "Goodbye, Rebbie. Remember me, eh?"

  "Goodbye uncle," whispered Alice, and she touched her fingertips to the screen just as the image faded.

  There was another lengthy silence.

  "Well," said Teresa at last. "I guess the deal's back on."

  "Figures," said Harriet.

  "Hey, you need to collect the cargo, and I've got a ship. I won't even charge for fuel."

  "You're all heart."

  The terminal beeped, and Bernie sent the screen to a printer. She picked up the sheet of paper and handed it to
Alice, who was wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Alice took it, then glared at the others, her eyes red. "Stop fighting, both of you," she said quietly. "Teresa, half is yours, whatever it is. My word is good."

  "That's very kind of you, but I think you'll find we agreed on sixty-forty."

  "That money is for Alice's education!" snapped Harriet.

  "Fine, fifty-fifty will do." Teresa looked down at the uniform she was wearing. "Can I change out of this before we go? It's making my skin crawl."

  Chapter 26

  Harriet made sure she took an extra jacket for their flight to Vasquez, now that she was aware exactly how cold the little ship would be in deep space. The flight passed without incident, albeit a lot warmer than her previous trip, and they landed at the Vasquez spaceport in no time. As they set down, Harriet thought it was a pity she couldn't claim frequent flier points, because over the past day she reckoned she'd racked up enough to buy a house.

  They flagged down a cab outside the terminal, and Harriet transmitted the address of the storage warehouse from her commset. The car set off smoothly, and she gazed out the windows as they sped along, curious to see Vasquez's major city in daylight. A lot of the buildings were the same as Dismolle's, probably built by the same robots, but many of the brand names and advertising hoardings were different, which gave her a curious feeling of same-but-not-quite.

  The cab ride took about twenty minutes, passing through commercial and business zones before finishing up in the warehouse district. They turned off the main road, and gradually the buildings became more run-down and derelict, until Harriet began to wonder if the self-storage units Alice's uncle had used still existed. There were a lot of vacant blocks, with weeds and building rubble from old demolitions, and it would be a huge blow if Alice's inheritance was long since gone.

  "Doesn't look very promising," said Teresa, as she glanced at a fallen building. The roof had caved in, and the old signage had been abandoned where it had fallen, right across the doorway.

  "Makes you wonder why they don't send robots to clean it up," said Harriet.

  "Legal issues," said the cab. "Nobody can touch the land until the ownership is established, and a lot of these places were owned by shelf companies."