by Simon Haynes
Walsh sighed. In a movie, the pair of them would have enjoyed a candlelit dinner, not a couple of reheated pies. And afterwards …
Five minutes later she was asleep, and not long after she started dreaming. It was a sunny day, and a beautiful couple were climbing the passenger ramp of a spaceship, arm in arm. A crowd had gathered to see them off, and Walsh joined in the clapping as the couple stopped to wave at the airlock. Her hands felt different, weak, and when she looked down she realised she was a child, no more than two or three years old. She was wearing funny little shoes with rabbit whiskers, and a frilly blue dress with a white belt. Looking to her left and right she saw an old couple flanking her, their friendly faces familiar but so high above.
There was a rumble from the spaceship, and one of the old people smiled down at her. ‘Cover your ears, my love. It’s going to be very loud.’
Walsh did as she was told, clamping her little hands against the side of her head. The rumbling grew louder and louder, and through the forest of legs she saw a graceful ship rising into the air, thundering upwards on a raging tail of fire.
After it vanished from sight, the scene changed. The same old people were present, but it was early morning and they wore different clothes. Next to her a grey-haired woman was looking at the sky, and when she saw Walsh doing the same she crouched and took her by the shoulders. ‘Won’t be long now, dear. They’ll be back soon.’
Someone in the crowd pointed to a fiery dot, high overhead. It was trailing white smoke, leaving a pretty trail against the morning sky, and people ooh’d and aah’d at the sight. The dot grew into a flaming sun, and the noise was like rolling thunder. Then the noise and fire stopped, and the crowd drew in a breath as the beautiful silver shape tumbled towards the ground, getting bigger and bigger. Oohs and aahs turned to cries of alarm, and Walsh lost sight of the ship as the people scattered. There was a huge crash, followed by a deep boom that knocked her to the ground, and when she turned over a fearsome robot was reaching for her with huge hands, its face twisted into a mask of horror. Scared out of her wits, she could only scream and scream.
Walsh sat up, breathing heavily. It was dark, and it took her a moment to realise she was in her room at the Peace Force station. Still shocked at the lifelike dream, she could only stare as she heard someone running up the stairs.
‘I heard shouting,’ said Hal breathlessly. ‘Are you all right?’
Walsh nodded, then realised Hal couldn’t see her in the dark. ‘Just a dream. Vivid.’
‘Probably the ghosts of prisoners past,’ said Hal. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘Not really.’ Walsh hugged the blankets around herself. ‘It was very real.’
‘Can I get you a drink? Something hot?’
‘No, I’ll be all right.’ Despite her bravado Walsh was shivering, and at that moment she realised there was only one thing she wanted. ‘Hal, I want to go home. Tomorrow, I mean.’
‘Plenty of room aboard the Volante. But what about your investigation?’
‘I can always come back to Forzen again.’
‘With reinforcements?’
‘A whole gang of them.’ Walsh gripped his hand. ‘Thank you, Hal.’
After he left her mind returned to the dream, to the huge robot that had come after her. She pictured the twisted face and the grasping hands, and suddenly made a startling connection. It was a BNE model, just like Bernie! And the expression on the robot’s face wasn’t anger … it was shock and sorrow!
Walsh closed her eyes. What about the people climbing the ramp to the spaceship? She’d assumed her subconscious had been waving a big sign at her, and that they’d been her and Hal taking off for a life of bliss together. But she’d never seen their faces, and hadn’t the man been wearing some kind of uniform?
She was still puzzling over the dream when she dozed off, and this time she slept soundly.
Chapter 21
Walsh awoke to the feel of sunlight on her face, and opened her eyes to see it streaming through the bedroom window. The warmth was pleasant, since the morning air was chilly, but the glare threatened to blind her and she was forced to turn away. She studied the sunlight on the wall, following the delicate patterns thrown onto it by the frosty glass, and decided to stay in bed as long as possible. There was a cocoon-like warmth under the blankets, and a selfish little voice inside her wondered whether Hal was up … and whether he’d bring her a morning cuppa. Then she frowned as she recalled her dream from the night before, and her spur-of-the-moment decision to return to Dismolle with Hal. It didn’t seem logical now, in broad daylight, but even so she was looking forward to discussing the case with Bernie. The robot would be able to access Herringen’s files, and together they could pore over the data looking for clues. Information gathering was a vital part of any investigation. She wasn’t running away. Not really.
CRASH!
Walsh sat up with a start. ‘What the -‘
CRASH!
The noise came from downstairs, and it sounded like someone was trying to kick the back door down.
CRASH!
‘Hal?’ shouted Walsh. ‘Is that you?’
‘Come and look at this!’
Walsh got up, wrapping herself in a blanket to keep in the warmth. The wooden floor was freezing, and she slipped her shoes on and hurried downstairs with the loose ends of the blanket flapping behind her.
Hal was amongst the tattered boxes, his sleeves rolled up and a hefty metal pole in his hands. As he saw her he pointed to the armoured door, now clear of boxes and rubble. ‘I managed to get to it,’ he said excitedly. ‘I think we can get in!’ He raised the pole, muscles bulging as he prepared to land another blow.
‘Wait!’ shouted Walsh. She reached the bottom of the stairs and hurried between the boxes. ‘You can’t just smash things up, Hal. The floor tiles, this office … it all belongs to someone!’
Hal lowered the pole. ‘But this place was abandoned. It’s just a dump.’
‘Even so, you can’t batter that door down.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s reinforced.’ Walsh tried the handle, which turned freely. ‘It’s not locked, it’s jammed shut.’
‘I know. That’s why I was trying to bash it in.’
‘Yes, but it opens towards us.’ Walsh pulled, but the door didn’t budge.
‘Here, let me.’ Hal inserted the pole between handle and door frame, and gave it a terrific jerk. The door creaked open, squealing in protest, and when the gap was big enough Hal threw the pole aside and grabbed the leading edge, hauling it open with his bare hands.
Walsh looked inside and saw an armoury just like the one on Dismolle. The shelves were bare, but she hardly spared them a glance. No, her gaze was fixed on the hulking shadow in the corner, and she gasped in surprise as she recognised the outline. It was another BNE robot, just like Bernie!
‘Run for it!’ shouted Hal, pushing Walsh back. ‘I’ll slow it down while you get clear!’
Caught off balance, Walsh fell and landed amongst the boxes, legs flailing. Meanwhile, Hal grabbed the metal pole and dashed into the armoury, where he laid into the huge robot with a series of heavy blows.
‘Stop!’ shouted Walsh. ‘Hal, STOP!’
The blows ceased and Hal reappeared, red and panting and brandishing the bent pole. ‘It’s all right. I think I got it.’
‘Hal, that robot is Peace Force equipment.’ Walsh got up, wrapping the blanket around herself. ‘It’s a mobile crime lab, not a ruthless killing machine.’
‘Could have fooled me,’ muttered Hal. ‘I mean, look at the size of it!’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘I’ve had dealings with big robots before,’ said Hal. ‘None of them were pleasant, I can tell you.’
‘I’m not surprised, if you treat them like that.’ Walsh entered the armoury and switched the light on. The robot was thick with dust, its chin resting on its chest and its huge fists hanging by its side. Bright p
atches showed where Hal’s blows had landed, but the tough shell was more than a match for a piece of plumbing.
‘Is it safe?’ asked Hal from the doorway.
‘Yeah, totally inactive.’ Walsh realised the robot must have been there a decade or more, stuffed away in a cupboard because it was too big to cart away. No wonder Bernie kept harping on about getting outside, if this was the fate awaiting her. Walsh brushed dirt from the robot’s forehead, and wondered whether she could take it back to Dismolle. Bernie would be delighted with a companion, and the three of them could work as a team.
‘I don’t see any weapons,’ said Hal, who’d been inspecting the shelves.
Walsh patted the robot. ‘Who needs weapons when you’ve got one of these?’
‘You’re not thinking of switching it on?’ said Hal in alarm.
‘Sure, once it’s charged up.’
‘But —’
‘Hal, I learned everything I know about the Peace Force from one of these robots. They’re designed to fight crime, not engage in it.’ Walsh found the robot’s switch, and her breath hissed as she realised it was in the ON position. Had the robot been left alone in the dark until its batteries ran out?
Hal watched from the doorway as she popped a panel in the robot’s abdomen and grabbed the electrical plug inside. Hand over fist, she pulled out cable until the loops covered the floor, then set off in search of a power socket. She found one in the main room, plugged the lead in and then hesitated with her finger on the switch. The robot might have valuable information about Forzen, and having it around would give her a useful ally. On the other hand, it could be sullen and uncooperative once it discovered just how long it had been abandoned in the cupboard. Maybe even violent.
‘Don’t you think —’ began Hal.
‘Trust me, this is the right thing to do.’ She clicked the switch, and returned to check on the robot. There was a row of charge lights flickering inside its abdomen, and status messages whizzed by on the small screen underneath. According to the information, the robot was fully operational, and only the lack of power was keeping it immobile. ‘Well, that should do it,’ said Walsh.
‘It’ll probably do both of us,’ said Hal gloomily.
‘Relax. If it’s anything like Bernie it’ll complain about being stuck indoors and make me horrible cups of coffee.’ Walsh realised she was standing around in her bedclothes, her hair was a mess and she hadn’t even had a cuppa, good or bad. ‘I’m going to tidy myself up. Can you put the kettle on?’
* * *
Ten minutes later Walsh came downstairs again, having got dressed and run a wet comb through her hair. Hal finished laying the table and hurried to fetch their breakfast, using a cardboard lid to carry the laden plates. ‘Sorry about the coffee,’ he said. ‘The machine’s so old it’s forgotten how to boil water.’
‘That’s okay. It’ll be fine.’
‘I’ll make you a proper cup aboard the Volante.’ Hal grinned. ‘You’re going to love it, you know. Real food, a decent bed and a nice hot shower afterwards.’
‘After what?’
Hal turned red. ‘I didn’t mean …’
Walsh grinned and took a mug of coffee. There was a long silence as she sipped the strong brew, and then she put the mug down and turned it back and forth. ‘Hal, I’ve changed my mind,’ she said, not looking at him. ‘I’m not going back with you.’
‘You what?’
‘I can’t run away. Bernie would expect more from me.’
‘What about Herringen’s data? You need Bernie to get at that. You said so.’
‘This new robot will do the job just as well.’
‘What if it doesn’t charge up?’
‘The status screen says it will.’
‘What if someone comes for you later, after I’ve gone? You can’t stay awake all night!’
‘I’ll barricade the door, and if they break in that robot will kick them into the middle of next week.’
Hal looked stubborn. ‘It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re supposed to be my guest aboard the Volante.’
‘This isn’t a holiday jaunt,’ said Walsh sharply. ‘Margaret Cooper disappeared, and today, tomorrow or next week it could be someone else.’
‘It’ll be you, if you keep sticking your neck out!’ Hal frowned. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.’
‘It’s just for a day or two. If there’s anything in Herringen’s files I’ll report him to Peace Force HQ, they’ll send a proper team and I’ll be on the next ferry home.’ Walsh finished her coffee. ‘You can take the car to the spaceport. I’ll use a cab to collect it later.’
‘I’m not going. I’m staying too.’
Walsh shook her head. ‘You told Clunk to come and pick you up, and you have a business to run. You can’t let your customers down, and I don’t need a nursemaid.’
‘But -‘
‘This is my job, Hal. Not yours.’
They got up and walked along the passage to the back door. Hal opened it, and a cold wind blew in. Outside, several cars stood in the snow, their windows thick with frost.
‘Clunk won’t let the Volante sit around idle,’ said Hal. ‘Those port fees really add up.’
‘The life of a busy space pilot,’ said Walsh with a smile. Then she realised what he meant. ‘Oh. You mean you’ll be leaving Dismolle.’
‘The whole system, most like.’
‘Will you come back?’
‘We have to go where the jobs are. Of course, Clunk might find something in these parts one day.’
‘Is that likely?’
Slowly, Hal shook his head.
‘I see.’
They stood in silence, their breath frosting in the cold air.
‘So this is goodbye?’ said Walsh finally.
‘Yup.’ Hal eyed the dregs in his mug. ‘Of course, if we do come back —’
Walsh nodded.
‘You might be a lieutenant by then.’
‘I won’t settle for anything less than captain.’
‘Then you could really order me around.’
Walsh laughed. ‘You got that right, deputy.’
Hal closed his eyes. He wanted to stay, but the pull of the Volante was too strong. And there was always a chance he’d make it back to Dismolle one day … a decent profit here and there, a bit of spare time … surely it was possible? He opened his eyes and saw Walsh looking at him. Her face was translucent, almost ethereal, and her eyes sparkled in the cold. ‘I’d better go,’ he mumbled. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode towards the car.
‘Wait!’ cried Walsh.
Hal turned to see her hurrying after him.
‘That’s official Peace Force property,’ said Walsh, pointing at the mug. ‘We can’t have you getting arrested.’
Silently, Hal gave it to her, and Walsh held it to her chest as he got into the car and drove off.
* * *
Half an hour later Walsh was sitting at the desk with the cold mug still clutched in her hands. She’d put duty first, as she was supposed to, but was that what life in the Peace Force was going to be like? And if so, did she really want it?
After Hal left she’d ducked into the armoury, but the robot had still been charging up and showed no signs of life. According to the status screen it was in perfect working order, but until the charge took she had nothing to do but sit and think.
‘Uurgh!’
Walsh’s hair stood on end as the low groan filled the office. ‘Hello?’
‘Uargh!’
There was another low moan, and her gaze flickered to the armoury door. It was the robot! She hurried into the armoury where she found the BNE-II clutching its midriff. The robot’s face was a picture of agony, and at her approach it let out another groan. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked in concern.
The robot squinted at her. ‘Was this you?’
‘What?’
‘Did you bring me back?’
‘Yes. Are you in pain?’
&nbs
p; ‘Like you wouldn’t believe, human.’
‘I’m sorry, I —’
‘You didn’t think.’ The robot winced as it endured another wave of pain. ‘Shouldn’t you identify yourself?’
‘Harriet Walsh of the Dismolle Peace Force. And you?’
‘Barney. Now, let me just —’ Slowly, the robot straightened up. ‘Ahh, that’s better.’
‘But why the pain? You’re a robot!’
‘You don’t just plug a BNE-II into a wall socket,’ said the robot severely. ‘It takes a team of technicians to reactivate me. Why, if I hadn’t shut down the errant processes my brain could have been damaged beyond repair.’
‘But Bernie’s always switching herself on and off.’
‘Bernie?’
‘At the Dismolle branch. She’s a BNE too.’
‘I see. Well, there are several kinds of shutdown and mine was the worst kind to wake up from.’
‘I didn’t know. I’m sorry.’
‘No harm done.’ Barney managed a smile. ‘So you’re Captain Walsh, are you? It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘You too, but I’m not a captain. Just a trainee for now.’
‘My apologies. I’m afraid my circuits are a little fuzzy.’
‘Yes, you’ve been out of action for a while.’
‘Ten years and four months,’ said the robot promptly. There was no surprise in his voice, just acceptance. ‘Operations at this office were suspended temporarily.’
‘They still are, I’m afraid.’
Barney looked around the bare shelves. ‘The resumption order hasn’t come through?’
Walsh shook her head.
‘So what are you doing on Forzen?’
‘I was invited here to investigate a missing person, and they put me up in the office.’
Barney nodded slowly. ‘And why did you switch me on? Curiosity?’
‘No, there’s something I need you to look at. Wait here.’
‘Under the circumstances, I find that suggestion rather tactless.’
‘I’m sorry. I won’t be a moment.’ Walsh went back to the office and pulled Herringen’s chip from the terminal, then took it back to Barney in the armoury. ‘Can you access the data on this?’