Sierra Bravo

and scrambled for a nearby van, which was revving its engine, the side door wide open. The men dived in, and the van took off with a screech of tyres, someone inside desperately trying to close the door. Bernie launched the wheel like a missile, slamming it into the rear of the van, the terrific impact caving the back in. She reached for another wheel, but by then the vehicle was gone, leaving only broken glass and tyre smoke to show it had been there at all.
Bernie let the wheel drop from her grip, and turned for the office. Instantly, she was surrounded by the Peace Force veterans, who cheered and slapped her on the shoulders. "You saved the day!" shouted Birch. "You little ripper!"
"I'm sorry I was not here … earlier," said Bernie, addressing Harriet.
Meanwhile, Flint crouched over Scrap, inspecting the damaged robot. "I'll get you fixed," he was saying. "I promise, whatever it costs you're going to be fine."
Scrap didn't respond.
"Give me a hand," shouted Flint. "Someone, please!"
"Bernie, can you help carry?"
"Negative, Trainee Harriet. That effort taxed my batteries to the limit."
"Okay, we'll handle this. You get inside and take a charge."
Bernie took one faltering step, then another. Each one was an effort, each slower than the last. She was still twenty metres from the front doors when she stopped completely.
"Got … to … get me … inside," said Bernie. "Must … charge."
Harriet saw the others carrying Scrap into the station. Then she heard the roar of an engine, and she looked past Bernie to see half a dozen vans racing down the road towards her. "Oh crap," she muttered. "Bernie, you've got to move."
"I cannot."
"Move!" Harriet put her shoulder to the robot's back, but it was like pushing one of the neighbouring apartment buildings. She heard the vans draw up nearby, and was forced to duck as the occupants opened fire on her. "Bernie—"
"Leave … me," said the robot. "I will be … fine."
Harriet paused.
"Go!" muttered Bernie, and then her eyes went out and her head dropped.
There was nothing for it, Harriet realised. She had to get to cover, and quickly. As she darted towards the front door the enemy opened up, and the street lit up with flashes of blaster fire, some of them so close she felt the heat of their passing.
She was almost at the entrance when she heard a whistling roar, and as she covered the last few feet, she heard Arnie howl down the street, engines blasting at full thrust. She glanced back and saw several objects tumbling down on the vans, saw them lose their windscreens, saw their roofs dented and raked by large chunks of concrete.
The firing stopped, and Harriet watched the enemy fleeing once more, leaving behind a couple of ruined vehicles. Surely they've had enough by now, she thought. Surely it had to be over.
— ♦ —
"Birch, see if you can find a power cable. We have to get Bernie up and running again or we're sunk."
Birch nodded, and headed into the main office.
Harriet turned to the others. "McCluskey. Duke. Help me with this table. You two, bring Scrap over. Captain Timms, let's have some lights, but stay near the switch. Caldavir, watch the road."
They laid Scrap out and detached the remains of the BNE shell. Harriet winced as she saw the damage. Scrap's chest had been caved in by the initial impact, and the van's wheels had crushed one of his legs. The robot's coolant and hydraulic fluids were leaking from torn tubing, making pools of green and purple on the rough wooden desk.
Flint gripped the robot's hand. "We're going to fix you, Scrap. Hang in there."
The robot jerked, and his eyes opened. He turned his head slightly, then closed his eyes again. "Would it be all right if I shut down for a while?" he asked quietly.
"Of course!" said Flint.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop them."
"You did great. And don't worry, we'll get you fixed up."
"I'm not damaged that badly." Scrap moved his leg a fraction, and there was a screech and a clatter from his damaged motors. "See? It's just a scratch."
Then Scrap's eyes closed, and Flint released his hand.
"We'll have him repaired, I promise," said Harriet, but privately she wondered whether they'd all end up in the same condition.
Birch came back, and his expression wasn't encouraging. He caught Harriet's eye and shook his head. "I couldn't find a cable. We'll just have to bring Bernie in by hand."
Harriet was about to point out that they'd have more luck moving the entire building to the robot when her commset rang. "Yes?"
It was Anita Darting. "It's not too late, trainee. You can still walk away from this."
"Hold." Harriet covered the mic and looked around the others. "It's Darting. She's saying we can all leave."
"What, and give her the city?" said Birch harshly. "Forget it!"
One by one, Harriet looked at the others, and as she met their eyes each of them agreed with Birch. "We're not going anywhere," said Timms, putting into words what they were all thinking.
"Darting?" said Harriet, putting the commset to her ear.
"Yes, trainee?"
"Give it up. You've lost."
"I can see your robot from here. It's not much help, is it?"
"How many vehicles have you lost so far? How many people have to get hurt?"
"I have plenty of both. And you'll be sorry you—"
"Don't call again," said Harriet, interrupting her, and she pushed the commset into her pocket. "I'm glad you're all onside," she said, addressing the others, "but unless we can come up with more weapons, we're toast."
"Do any of you have any contacts?" asked Birch. "Anything at all?"
Everyone shook their heads. Firearms were tightly controlled across the entire planet, and although Darting had managed to smuggle in a few hand weapons and grenades, fortunately she hadn't brought rifles, rocket launchers, or worse.
"The slingshots worked well," said Harriet. "How about rustling up some more ammo?"
Caldavir looked thoughtful. "What about something a bit more powerful?"
"What do you suggest?"
"Crossbows. Accurate, deadly, and not too hard to make."
"You're