"Neat," remarked Alice.
"Is that thing legal?" asked Harriet.
Teresa snorted. "What do you think?"
"I think you've done this sort of thing before."
Alice ignored them and hauled on the gates. The hinges squealed and the metal frames shuddered as she dragged them open, until there was enough of a gap to slip through.
"You coming in?" Harriet asked Teresa.
"Sure. Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Harriet gave the gates another shove, adding a few inches of clearance, and then all three crossed the yard to the office. The inside had been stripped, and the barrier pole across the road was leaning at a drunken angle. Beyond, there were rows of storage units, most of them wide open and empty.
"There are still a few closed ones," said Alice, and she ran ahead to check them.
They might be closed, thought Harriet, but that didn't mean they were locked. She noticed row and grid numbers painted on the wall next to each door, starting with A1 next to the office. "Which number do we want?" she called to Alice, just as the girl pulled the first door up. The rattle drowned her voice, and she left Teresa and jogged over to stop Alice opening every door in the place.
When she got there she saw the unit's floor was littered with junk, but it was otherwise empty. "Which unit do we want?" she repeated.
"C-14."
"Let's find it, then. I don't want to hang around here any longer than we have to."
"This one's locked," said Alice, who'd ignored her and gone to try the next unit along. "Teresa, have you got that cutting thing?"
"Alice, this isn't your uncle's unit," said Harriet.
Alice and Teresa exchanged a glance. Meanwhile, Harriet tapped the badge on the shoulder of her jacket. "Peace Force, remember? I'll arrest the pair of you if you don't get a move on."
"Oh, all right. It's probably full of junk anyway."
"It'll be full of ash if I cut it open," said Teresa.
"What do you mean?"
She pointed at the lock. "Remember that magic box of yours? This storage unit has the same kind of DNA lock. If we mess with it, the contents will be vaporised."
For the first time since they'd stepped out of the cab, Harriet felt a ray of hope. "So Alice's goods could still be here?"
"Yeah, unless someone tried to break in." Teresa shrugged. "That's the beauty of these locks, though. It's pointless trying."
Alice set off at a run, and Harriet hurried after her. Teresa followed more slowly, wincing as every footstep jarred her shoulder.
They reached the end of the A row, then turned right and ran past the end of the B row. After that, C, and they turned right and jogged past the first dozen or so units, counting down the numbers. They ran faster and faster, leaving Teresa in their dust. Then, as they approached C-14, Alice let out a cry of excitement. "It's closed!"
"Yes, but is it locked?"
They skidded to a halt in front of the storage unit, and Alice put both hands on the door and prepared to lift.
"Go on!" Harriet urged her. She was so eager she wanted to push Alice aside and try the door herself.
Alice tugged on the door. "It's sealed," she said, excitement in her voice. "The cargo might still be there!"
— ♦ —
Alice's fingers shook as she reached for the grey touch pad, and her heart pounded in her throat. She couldn't believe she was this close to securing her future, once and for all. Before joining the Peace Force, she'd had to struggle for food, she'd slept rough more often than she cared to remember, and as she shivered on those park benches, or underneath dank bridges, or hid away in some grubby freighter's cargo hold, she'd promised herself again and again that one day she'd get her hands on enough money to live comfortably.
She just didn't think it would come to her this easily.
Surely the cargo had to be worth a fortune? Otherwise, why did Smith spend so much time and money looking for it?
"Alice!" growled Harriet. "Are you going to try the lock or not?"
Teresa arrived just as Alice pressed her palm to the grey pad. There was a loud click, and the three of them hauled the door up together. The metal runners rattled in their tracks, and as the roller door slammed into the stop a dim light came on. It revealed a small, enclosed area, with concrete walls and a floor paved with heavy slabs. In the centre of the floor, sitting on a wooden pallet, was a stack of dark green metal boxes. They had stencilled serial numbers, and each box bore the insignia of the Imperial Navy.
Alice had been expecting a few crates of goods, valuables of some kind, but these looked like boxes of ammunition, or even weapons. "This can't be right," she muttered. "Uncle wouldn't expect me to hawk this lot around arms dealers."
"Only one way to find out," said Teresa, and she went to check the nearest box.
"Wait!" shouted Harriet. "It might be rigged."
"Oh, sure. Uncle Sandon just wanted to blow his beloved niece up." Teresa struggled with the catch, then swore under her breath and took out the mini laser cutter. The tip fizzed, and then she opened the box's catch with a snap and lifted the lid.
There was a long silence.
"Well, it's certainly not weapons," said Harriet, with a shaky laugh.
Chapter 27
The box contained four neat rows of red and yellow credit tiles, and from the depth of the box, they were stacked several layers deep. Alice gazed at the tiles in awe, her eyes round.
