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.
