Sierra Bravo

before them like a private park. And in the corner, in the shade of a huge tree, there was a workshop as big as most houses. Harriet led the way, and when they got to the structure she opened the door.
Inside was workshop heaven, with expensive machinery on stands, and racks on the walls holding every manner of hand tool. Each tool had its place, with an outline showing exactly where it belonged. And sitting in the corner, with his feet up on a side table, was a dark-haired man in his mid-forties. He was reading a book, and as Harriet and Birch entered he lowered it and looked at them enquiringly. "Can I help you?" Then he stared at Birch, and a flicker of recognition crossed his face. "Dave?"
"Hi Martin. Long time no see."
The man got up and they shook hands enthusiastically. Then he turned to Harriet. "It's been a while since I saw anyone in that uniform. Have they reopened the station at last?"
"Harriet Walsh. I'm with the Dismolle branch."
"Well, that's a start." Caldavir smiled at her. "Is this an official visit? Should I be worried?"
"Why, have you done something illegal?" Harriet looked around the workshop. The place was crammed with tools and racks of raw materials, and the walls were hung with models of primitive weapons. Spears, wooden shields, even crossbows. Some of them looked to more than just models. "What are you making in here? Theatre props?"
Caldavir gestured. "That stuff? Moira's studying prehistory, with a focus on ancient warfare. She comes up with a theory, then knocks up a working sample to test it out." He indicated the book. "I just like to sit out here when she's not using it. I like the peace and quiet. You know, like when people come knocking on the door unexpectedly, and—"
"Anita Darting's back," said Birch, cutting him off.
Caldavir frowned. "Now there's a name I never expected to hear again," he said softly. "I thought they locked her up for life?"
"Well they didn't, and she's causing trouble again."
"Think you can stop her?"
"Not on our own," said Harriet.
"Oh, I get it. First the Peace Force dumps me without any kind of a trial, and now they want me back. Charming."
"Did you take a bribe?" Harriet asked him.
"Aren't you the blunt one?" Caldavir eyed her. "I took several bribes, yes. Darting thought she had me in her pocket. One of her tame coppers, on a leash."
"How many did she have?"
"That's what I was trying to find out. Figured it'd be easier from the inside." Caldavir shrugged. "Unfortunately the brass didn't see it that way, and they shopped me. I still had the money in a safe, untouched, along with dates and times of the bribes, but they refused to see it my way. They wanted to make an example of someone, to scare the rest into line, and they chose me."
His explanation had a ring of truth to it, but Harriet imagined most bent cops would use the same excuse. "What did you do after the Peace Force?"
"Private consulting. Security, mostly. People were running scared, and it was a lucrative business for a while there."
"I bet you were coining it … until this Darting woman got busted."
Caldavir laughed. "I'd sold the business by then. Perfect timing." He gestured around the workshop. "Kept us in fancy toys ever since. In a way, the Peace Force did me a huge favour."
Harriet was silent. His explanation made sense, but it sounded like a rehearsed answer. If she had the choice, she and Birch would walk away and leave Caldavir to his book and his workshop, but really, she had no choice. They needed more people. "Darting's running a protection racket, and she's probably up to a lot more we don't know about yet. The Dismolle Peace Force is here to help, but we can't face her alone."
"How many people do you have?"
"Three."
"Three!"
"Including Birch and myself," said Harriet reluctantly.
"No wonder you're knocking on my door." Caldavir rubbed his chin. "Can't you get anyone from Peace Force HQ?"
"They won't send reinforcements. We're on our own."
Birch cleared his throat. "Harriet doesn't have to stick her neck out for Chirless. She's volunteering because she considers it her duty."
"All right, all right. I've done plenty of stupid things in my life. What's one more?"
"Thanks," said Harriet. "We're using the Chirless Peace Force building. Come by as soon as you can, and bring a gun if you have one. We're short of weapons."
"Of course you are." Caldavir shook his head. "No guns around here, though. No weapons at all, unless you fancy your chances with a spear or a crossbow."
Harriet eyed the primitive weapons on the wall. If they had to resort to spears and shields, the fight was already lost.
"We'll pass, thanks," said Birch.
"I must be mad, signing up for this," muttered Caldavir. "Darting's going to kill us all."
And on that cheerful note, Harriet and Birch went to find a cab.

Chapter 12
Alice studied a display projected onto the fighter's canopy, watching the green cross-hairs like a hawk. The marker was crawling across the city, slowly approaching the red circle Arnie had painted on the building they suspected might be the gang's hideout. As the two matched, Alice throttled back, bringing the ship to a halt in mid-air.
They were hovering a couple of hundred metres above the ground, well out of range of any hand-weapon, and the cross-hairs were centered on half a dozen black vans in the car park below.
"Have you checked for wind?" Alice asked the ship.
"Drift has been calculated, yes."
"And you'll move the ship to compensate, if the wind changes?"
"As much as I can. There may be small variations." As Arnie spoke, the fighter moved slightly, but the cross-hairs were rock steady.
Alice watched the screen. She could see a group of people near the building, one of them pointing up at her. There was a flash, and she guessed they were shooting at Arnie. "Wasting your time, suckers," she muttered under her breath.