"It wasn't me," said Alice quickly. "I'm just sitting here, studying hard for that Peace Force test."
Bernie ignored her. "The online auction for our fighter jet just ended."
Harriet blinked. "I didn't even know there was an auction."
"Indeed. I decided we could use the funds for more appropriate equipment."
"That's a great idea!" said Harriet. "The coffee maker is on its last legs, and that shower head in the locker room sprays more water into the sink than—"
"I was talking about Peace Force equipment," said Bernie severely. "Items like computer terminals, new uniforms … perhaps even replacement batteries for myself."
"We could get those things too," said Harriet generously.
"For a while I thought the listing would be unsuccessful," said Bernie. "There was absolutely no interest for the first day or two."
Given Dismolle was almost entirely populated by elderly retirees, Harriet wasn't surprised. "Maybe the reserve price put people off."
"I didn't set a reserve. There was an additional charge for that service, and I felt it unnecessary."
Uh-oh. "So, er, how much did we make on the auction?"
"Bearing in mind the ship cost us absolutely nothing, I'm pleased to report we made a profit."
"So why so glum? What's the disturbing news?"
"The amount was not that great," admitted the robot.
Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Alice browsing pictures of spaceships again. She was going to shout at her, but she had more important matters to deal with. "How much, Bernie?" she demanded bluntly.
"YES!" shouted Alice, leaping up and pumping the air. "I got it. I got it!"
"What is up with you?" snapped Harriet, turning her attention to Alice. "What the hell are you doing, bouncing all over the office?"
"Me? Oh, nothing." Alice paused. "Can you put three credits into my account?"
"What, now?"
"Yeah, it's kind of urgent. I have to pay for something."
Harriet rolled her eyes. Here they were in the middle of a crisis, and Alice was bidding on spaceship posters. "Bernie, can you handle it?"
"Of course." The robot beeped. "Transfer successful."
Alice tapped her screen, and the robot beeped again.
"What was that?" demanded Harriet.
"It was an incoming transfer. The successful bidder just paid for the ship."
"How much?" said Harriet, but she already knew the answer.
"In round figures … three credits. Minus fees and listing charges."
Harriet felt like the ground was shifting under her feet. "You sold our fighter jet for three credits?"
"Like I said, that amount represents one hundred percent profit."
Harriet strode across to Alice's terminal and tilted the screen. There was a picture of a spaceship all right, but it wasn't a poster. It was a real spaceship … their spaceship. Slowly, she met Alice's gaze. "You bid on Bernie's auction?"
"Sure. I love me a bargain."
"You bought Rover?"
"Yeah, well that name's out for a start." Alice rubbed her chin. "I like Arnie so much better."
"Alice, you can't buy our ship! We need it for emergencies!"
"Don't yell at me! Bernie put the auction up, and it could have gone to anyone. And I'm sorry, but … emergencies? On Dismolle?"
Harriet would have said more, a lot more, but at that moment Dave Birch hurried in from his shop, which he ran from the station's front office. Dave was a retired Peace Force officer, and he rarely came into the station proper. He rarely looked upset either, and he never hurried anywhere. What with his unexpected presence, his unusual turn of speed, and the fact his lined face was creased with worry, Harriet didn't need her Peace Force training to figure out something was up. "What is it, Dave?"
"I need your help, all of you. It's an emergency!"
Chapter 2
Instantly, Alice and Harriet were all business, their squabble forgotten. Bernie was always business, so she didn't have to alter her expression in the slightest.
Birch eyed all three of them. "I've got an old colleague in Chirless. Used to be one of my superior officers. She was out shopping, and a couple of toughs showed up looking for trouble."
"Did she arrest them?" demanded Alice.
"She's in her eighties," said Birch curtly.
"Fair enough."
"Mind you, I bet she was tempted. Anyway, the shop owner slipped her a note, asking her to get help." Birch spread his hands. "So here I am."
"Wait, this is going on right now?" said Harriet.
"Yeah, hence the rush." Birch nodded at the ceiling. "I know you've got that ship up there. I thought we could fly over to Chirless, and—"
"There's a slight problem with that," said Harriet.
"That's okay," said Alice. "I'll lend you Arnie any time."
"I was thinking about the fuel."
"Not a problem. The listing said the owner would fill it up before delivery."
Harriet's eyes widened, and she stared at Bernie.
"I thought it would encourage more bids," said the robot, looking highly uncomfortable.
"One hundred percent profit, eh?" Harriet shook her head. "All right, we'll sort this mess out later. Dave, what are we going to need?"
"Riot gear and guns." Birch glanced at Bernie. "A huge indestructible robot wouldn't go amiss, either."
"She's way too heavy for Arnie," said Alice firmly. "He'd never get off the ground."
"In any case," said Bernie, "my place is here at the Dismolle station."
"All right, let's gear up." Harriet typed a code on the armoury keypad and hauled the door open. Inside there were lots of shelves, mostly empty. A couple held folded uniforms, several helmets and a couple of riot shields, the plastic yellowed and crazed with age. Harriet passed Dave and Alice as much as they could carry, then took down a locked plastic case. "Bernie, can you authorise this?"
Bernie took the case and unlocked it, then turned it towards Harriet. "Do you promise to use these weapons for the good of the Peace Force?"
"I do."
Bernie nodded, and the training pistol beeped. Alongside it, nestled in the case, was a double-barreled blaster. Harriet took the blaster and passed the training weapon to Birch.
"Hey, what about me?" said Alice.
"You're flying the ship," said Harriet. "Come on, we'll suit up on the way."
— ♦ —
They took the lift to the roof, where
