That's when she heard the roar of a nearby engine. At first she thought it was the ship, getting ready to leave, but the exhausts were clear and there was no sign of smoke or heat haze. The roar grew louder, and Harriet twisted in her seat to see where it was coming from. To her right? "Steve, what's that noise?"
"Just a loader. It's heading towards the ship."
"To do what? Their hold is sealed."
"Maybe they're going to—"
The roar suddenly grew louder, and Steve shouted a warning. Before he could react, or get out of the way, a huge metal fork speared through Harriet's window, missing her face by millimetres and showering her with broken glass. The car was swept away by the impact, and her world rocked crazily as Steve was picked up bodily by the huge machine.
"Steve, reverse. Reverse!"
The cruiser's engine roared, but they were stuck fast. Then, before she could get free, the loader tipped them up sharply, depositing the cruiser on its side, before ramming them again, rolling Steve right onto his roof.
"Well, there goes my love life," he said morosely.
"This is not the time for jokes!" shouted Harriet. "Get moving, now!"
"I can't. There's no lift when we're upside-down."
Harriet cursed, and struggled with her seat belt. Meanwhile, the loader withdrew, and before she could free herself the door was yanked open. The belt came free but by then it was too late. Willing hands pulled her from the car, dragging her onto the concrete apron. A cloth bag went over her head, and her arms were wrenched behind her back.
"I'm with the Peace Force!" she shouted. She would have said more, but someone clamped a wet cloth over her face. She smelled the fumes through the hood, and her struggles became weaker and weaker as the chemical took effect. Her last thought was that she'd been overconfident, again, and then she slumped in her captor's arms, unconscious.
— ♦ —
"Please proceed faster."
"Cannot comply. This is my maximum speed."
"I order you to move faster, in the name of the Peace Force."
"This is my maximum speed."
Bernie gritted her teeth, or would have done if she had any. In her youth she could have outrun the car with ease, but her failing motors and her reliance on an under-powered emergency battery pack meant she was at the mercy of public transport. "If I am late, I will have you crushed."
"This is my maximum speed."
"My officer is in danger. Accelerate."
"This is—"
CRUNCH!
Bernie flexed her arm, casually crushing the speaker set into the dash with her huge fist. It didn't make the car any faster, but it did improve her mood. Then she noticed a flashing sign on the dash, warning her of a fine for malicious damage, so she crushed that, too. "Go ahead," she growled. "Report me."
The car slowed momentarily, as though it were going to pull over. Bernie bunched both fists, spoiling for a fight, and the car sped up once more. To her pleasure, Bernie noticed they were now travelling two kilometres per hour over the speed limit.
They approached the spaceport, where she opened the door to speak with the guard. She didn't bother with little details like door handles, she just gave it a bit of a push with her elbow. With a creak of tortured metal, the door popped open, only to hit the concrete wall around the guard's cubicle. Bernie was still pushing, and the door bent double with a groan. "Have you seen my Officer?" she asked the guard.
He closed his mouth, and nodded.
"Which way did she go?"
The guard raised his finger, pointing across the landing field. Bernie saluted him, sounding a hollow clang from her forehead, and then instructed the cab to drive on. The ruined door caught on a metal post and tore off completely, spinning in their wake like a potter's wheel.
As they navigated the busy landing field Bernie put her head out of the door, looking for the Peace Force cruiser … and Harriet. She was only halfway there when a siren sounded, and the ground crew and loaders retreated into concrete shelters with an ease borne of long practice.
"Get under cover!" someone shouted, as Bernie drove past. "Ship!"
Bernie didn't care about ships, since she was fireproof to a thousand degrees or more, and she certainly didn't give a fig for the cab. Therefore, she proceeded towards pad forty-seven. As she got closer she heard the rumble of a ship's engines, getting louder and louder as they built up to lift-off. Then, directly ahead of her, a graceful ship lanced into the air with a thunderclap, smoke and flame billowing from its thrusters.
The rolling cloud of smoke spread over the landing field, engulfing the cab. Fortunately, it could navigate using radar. Unfortunately, public safety rules forced it to pull over.
"Keep going!" shouted Bernie.
The cab was silent, which wasn't surprising as she'd smashed its speaker in.
Frustrated beyond measure, Bernie got out without bothering to remove the seatbelt. When she first got in, she'd tried pointing out that the seatbelt was unnecessary, but the cab quoted safety regulations and insisted. That's when Bernie first developed her dislike for the annoying, pedantic little vehicle.
Now, with the seatbelt spooling out behind her like a cord on a vacuum cleaner, she strode into the cloud of smoke, looking for her trainee. She'd only taken three paces when the seatbelt tightened with a snap, but instead of breaking, it was strong enough for her to drag the cab along behind, scraping and sparking on its parking legs.
Impatiently, Bernie took the seatbelt in both hands and tore it in two, throwing the halves aside impatiently. Two more steps and she saw the outline of the Peace Force cruiser, but she realised immediately something was wrong: it was upside-down!
As she hurried forward, she took in the broken glass, the deep scoring in the cruiser's bodywork, and the open door. Crouching, she looked inside, but Harriet wasn't there. "Report!" she barked.
"They got her," said Steve. "I'm sorry, I couldn't do
