

## The

## Fight

## for

## Locardum

## (A Brell Sturlach Adventure)

## by

## Stuart F. Dodds

### Copyright

Copyright © 2018 by Stuart F. Dodds

All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

***

Published by Stuart F. Dodds

ISBN: 978-0-9932065-5-9 Smashwords version

Second edition (2020)

***

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of

the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial

purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own

copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

***

Cover design by Stuart F. Dodds and Rachel Bostwick.

***

Discover other titles by Stuart F. Dodds

1. Deep Yellow (A Brell Sturlach Adventure)

2. The Search for Locardum (A Brell Sturlach Adventure)

3. Billie – a modern action thriller

***

Table of contents

### Part One
Chapter 1

_Midnight execution, all welcome_ , the sign outside the Half Angel Tavern proclaimed. The inn was located in an industrial suburb of Dredge City, the capital of planet Kaznac. Heavy with pollution, the air left a metallic tang on the back of the throat.

To Brell Sturlach, environmental concerns were the least of her worries. Since landing on the chaotic Non-Association planet, survival was a more pressing issue.

Wearing a full-length religious robe, she yanked at the edges of the hood as she waited to be searched for weapons. A male grunted at her as she reached the front of the queue. Indelicate hands groped her body as she pressed her knees together. A chance to search a woman did not offer itself often to door security staff. She concentrated on her breath while maintaining a calm, serene expression. The guard failed to discover the jolter, a mini stun gun, attached to the inside of her thigh.

She walked passed the weapon depository, entered the main bar, and waited for her colleague, Lottie, a robotic assistant.

She studied the other visitors, the building exits, and internal spaces. This was going to be tricky.

With limited options, her Police Corps experience would be invaluable. Having worked her way up to a senior rank in the Corps, she destroyed her career a few years ago, due to an addiction to psychotic drugs and intoxicants. She was also sent to prison.

Of similar height to many of the men, with a round face and oval brown eyes, tonight she felt her forty-one years. She had shaved off her usually short black hair for the sake of her religious identity as a nun of the order of Jayzan. A course of tablets changed her normal light blue skin to shades of white and grey.

Lottie arrived inside the bar. Ignoring the murmurs and crude comments from the drinkers, she stood next to Brell.

"Okay?" Brell said, keeping her eye on the crowd.

"They found nothing," Lottie said in a deep male voice. The complex outer skin of her hardened shell allowed her to change identity. Someone once described it as appearing like body paint. With the pockmarked face of a fifty-year-old, she had stooped her shoulders to play the part. She checked the tightness of the white cord tied around her waist.

"Good, let's find our prisoner," Brell said.

Sounds of loud talking pervaded the large room, together with the odour of stale beer and cooked food. There was a distinct atmosphere of expectation at the imminent executions. A bar on one side served basic types of ales, and at the other end, female dancers gyrated on a small stage. Brell knew it was part of a pre-execution build-up. Men stood nearby, leering at the women dressed in brief undergarments.

Good, it kept their eyes off the only two people wearing religious robes.

Brell stepped through a set of double doors propped open by beer barrels. She entered the tavern's rear yard, a large square area. At least it wasn't raining.

Placed against the far outer wall were four metal cages, each containing a prisoner. One of them, Brell hoped, would be the person who had asked for help two weeks ago. A surprise, considering the hostility that existed between them. This was also the person who could lead them to a hidden stash of Locardum, a rare ore used in weapon making.

The bloody Locardum. The search for it had already cost the life of her partner, a Police Corps captain. Murdered after a conception ceremony, he would never see their son. Junior was growing safe and secure in a surrogate womb set within a hotel on a pleasure planet.

She knew her partner's killer, a man with the nickname of Smiler, was also after the Locardum. Though he did not know its exact location, the bastard would not be far away.

Two armed guards stood by the cages. Their stance, Brell calculated, was attentive and observant. That said, they were allowing people to insult the prisoners or throw beer over them.

A low platform, the execution stage, was positioned against a wall next to the cages. Two men were building a lethal apparatus. Four rough wooden coffins lay in a pile on the ground by a rear access gate.

Brell stroked her chin as she assessed the environment. What she wouldn't give for drones, cams, stunners, and zappers from her Police Corps days. With a small team, they could be in and out in five minutes. Equivalent equipment was expensive or too risky to buy. She needed to rely on copious helpings of grit and determination.

"Brother," Brell said, "we must visit the prisoners to offer them comfort."

"A virtuous manner is needed, sister, remember?" Lottie said, glancing at her.

"Quite right, brother," Brell said. She interlocked her fingers, pursed her lips, and nodded back.

A small group of men clutching mugs of beer congregated by a pudgy, sweaty man wearing an apron. He smoked and conversed loudly with the men. One man, who had been pissing over the prisoners, returned to claps and cheers.

As she approached, Brell saw them nudge each other and turn to examine her. Two of the men swayed with the effects of the rough ale.

"A nun? A woman in here?"

Brell smiled.

"Do you drink, sister?"

"I do not partake in intoxicating liquors. It is forbidden."

"Sex?"

"Forbidden."

"You're supposed to be hairless, aren't you?"

A hand reached forward and pulled Brell's hood backwards.

Her bald head shone in the dim lights. A male gasped at the long scar running across her scalp.

"Get in a fight?"

"An accident, during work activity."

"Who's this, your minder?" A male pointed at Lottie.

"My brother."

One male stepped towards her, his chest almost touching hers. His breath was hot and stale.

"Gentlemen. I am a follower of Jayzan. We come in peace," Brell said, squeezing her fingers together to prevent herself from reacting.

"Oh, really? But you are a woman, are you not? What you got on underneath the robe, eh, sister?" The male said.

The others sniggered.

"I am here to visit the prisoners," she said, raising her voice.

"Lads, lads, come on," the pudgy man said, interjecting. "I am the landlord at your service. Drunk men, sister, they mean you no harm." His fat face creased in a smile.

Brell watched the men wander off back inside the main bar to ogle the dancers.

"Don't often see religious types here." The innkeeper said, his gaze moving in a suspicious sweep between Brell and Lottie.

"Kaznac provides us new pastures in which to spread the word of Jayzan. For people to follow a path of peace."

"You won't find much peace here, sister. Are you here for the executions?"

"Yes, we saw your advertisement. This is a fine establishment, landlord. What is that?" Brell said, pointing to a wooden notice board that she hadn't previously noticed.

"We're taking bets on whether our caged convicts squeal, piss their pants, stay silent, or shout for their mother at the moment of their demise."

Grinning, he wiped his fat lips and belched. His eyes stared at Brell's chest.

"What is your choice?" Brell said.

"Silence. One of them doesn't squeal, that's for sure."

Retaining her demeanour despite her inner revulsion, Brell smiled. "Landlord, I would like to give succour to the prisoners in their last hour of need."

"You can succour me if you like, sister."

Ignoring his comment, Brell continued, aware the innkeeper appeared keen to talk. "How does this execution take place?"

"My brother, the local judge, will arrive soon to witness proceedings. The executioner, my cousin, hooks up their neckbands, overloads it, and off comes the head. It's good for business. Here." He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a key secured on a chain round his neck. "This is a key to the cages. I have the important job of unlocking the doors. You should see the look on their faces when they see me. They shit themselves."

"Well, sir, may I speak in private to the unfortunate prisoners? Offer a prayer, for them to reflect on their misdeeds. I presume there is a fee? Is this enough?" Brell passed over a few credit notes and plastic chips.

The landlord grunted and spoke to the guards before handing them a note each. Brell checked that the hood of her robe was covering her head.

A guard raised his laser rifle. "Just one of you."

Brell put up a hand, motioning Lottie to stay behind. "Silent prayer, brother," she said.

Lottie gave a single low nod.

"Search first."

She stood still and waited for the inevitable groping. Once finished, she placed her palms together and approached the cages. A pungent smell of stale beer, piss, unwashed clothes, and sweat filled the air. She examined the faces of each prisoner.

It was as she expected. Exhausted, dirt-streaked, they were a picture of hopelessness. She passed by each cell, saying, "Peace be with you."

She stopped at the last cell.

The figure inside did not move. Sitting with arms folded around knees, the prisoner's head was bowed. Nevertheless, Brell knew this was the right person. She let out a breath and knelt by the bars.

"Brother, I want to pray with you, to help repent your sins." She spoke in what she considered a clear, saintly voice, for the benefit of the guards.

"I need no god," the prisoner said, in a male-sounding voice.

"Brother, please join me, kneel in prayer. Clasp your hands together. Let us pray." Brell lowered her voice and moved a hand to cover her lips. "Katey, it's me Brell. Don't say anything." She continued in her nun's voice, "Child, won't you say one last penance?"

Lifting her head, Katey's eyes widened.

"Join me in prayer. Kneel with me, let us pray together."

Katey slumped onto her knees to face Brell.

This was not the young, fit woman whom Brell had fought with a few months ago. In fact, until the change of events, she would have left her to her fate.

Katey's jacket, shirt, and trousers were imbued with layers of grease ground into the fibres. In her mid-twenties, her appearance as a male was very passable, a disguise she had assumed since landing on the planet weeks ago.

Katey brought up her hands and pressed her palms together. Her eyes locked onto Brell's. It was a difficult expression to translate, Brell considered.

A moment of understanding passed between them.

Brell glanced back at the guards, who were trading comments with the two executioners. Lottie stood on her own in contemplation, her eyes studying her surroundings. Brell knew Lottie would be referring to the strategy pages of the Police Corps manual, her creator's memories, as well as story lines from her favourite drama show, _Plundering Pirates_. Lottie often dressed in the character's costumes.

Altering the volume of her voice as she spoke, Brell continued her conversation. "Brother, pray now for your own salvation. _Restraints? Just the neckband?_ Are you willing to renounce all violent activities?"

"Yes. But it is difficult to renounce." Katey said, her voice croaking.

This reassured Brell. Katey's response was intelligent and controlled. No careless conversation or body movements. Her fear of Katey blurting out something or showing elation was unfounded.

Brell's life was as much on the line as Katey's, now that they were together. A factor which Brell had churned over ever since viewing Katey's emergency message.

"Brother, be strong. Prayer will remove your difficulty soon. The Lord of Jayzan will have pity on you. _Are you strong enough to walk?_ Do you let him into your heart?"

"Yes, sister, though my body has been weak of late."

"Then I will return soon to provide you more comfort, near your moment of need."

"Thank you, sister. Your visit has been most welcome."

Brell raised her voice. "I absolve you of your sins. Be at peace, brother."

They exchanged another glance before Brell nodded, unclasped her hands, and stood up. After thanking the guards, she joined Lottie.

"It's definitely Katey. We must get the key off the landlord. Crap, I thought the guards would unlock the cages."

Lottie nudged Brell as she stared at the execution platform.

"Ready?" the executioner said towards the two guards.

Together, they shackled a full-sized dummy wearing a neckband to a plain wooden pole. It was the same neckband as the one Katey wore. Its normal purpose was to stop a worker from leaving the boundary of the tavern. Convicted by a non-existent justice system, the workers were slaves waiting for execution.

The executioner attached a wired coupling to the neckband. The other end ran into a square machine with dials.

A loud boom and fizz sounded as the dummy's neck disintegrated. Its head plopped onto the stage.

A loud hurrah came from the audience.

Brell looked about her. "I think the landlord has gone back inside. I'll get the key off him. Wait for my signal, then everything as we planned. We must act quickly. If anyone bothers you, excuse yourself and go find the privy."

"Privy? Okay."

"Male privy. Lift your robe and smile as if you are having a pee. Don't stare at the other men. See you in a minute."

Brell found the landlord in the main bar. He was ordering around four members of staff wearing neckbands. Brell wondered how long those poor bastards would have to wait for their date with destiny.

"Landlord. Would you like to give me a donation to the Jayzan charitable foundation?"

"In private?"

"Yes landlord, in your office. I will beseech you, give you words of comfort and succour." Brell made eye contact and smiled.

"Would you now? Well, follow me." With that, the landlord slapped a nearby member of staff. "Don't stop working because I'm not here." He wiped his hands on his apron, his expression one of growing excitement.

Brell entered his office, a long, rectangular room. Part ramshackle, partly organised, it was dimly lit without windows. A half-pulled curtain hid an unmade bed set within a corner alcove. Old-fashioned accounting books were stacked on top of each other. Airless, it smelt of beer dregs.

"How can I help you, sister?" the landlord said. He perched his large backside on the edge of a table, his eyes glancing at Brell's robes and the alcove.

"Landlord, will you find it in your heart to donate to our charity?"

"Certainly, sister. But what of this succour you were going to offer?"

"Of course, I understand." Brell nodded.

She reached a hand down and scooped up the hem of her robe, bringing it up to her knee. The landlord's cheeks flushed. He wiped his face, unable to take his eyes off Brell's robe as she poked a hand underneath. He now stood facing her, expectant, his hands fumbling with his trouser fastenings.

Without speaking, Brell stepped forward and fired the jolter into the man's stomach.

A bolt of electrical charge fizzed out of the weapon. The landlord clutched himself, his face one of surprise and disappointment.

Another jolt into his leg sent him to the floor. Brell turned his head and shot into the side of his neck. He spluttered, then went limp, saliva dripping from his gaping mouth.

Grabbing at his collar, she found the keychain, which she dragged over his head. She stuffed it inside her robe and grabbed a shirt lying on a chair. After using it to tie his wrists together behind his back, she hauled a sheet off the bed. Twisting it into a long tube shape, she wrapped it around his ankles. Finally, she looped the ends through his wrist restraints.

She kept the jolter in her hand and pulled at the sleeve of her robe. After taking a breath, she opened the door to find a member of staff walking nearby.

"What a generous man," Brell said.

She locked eyes with Lottie, who stood near the bar, and gave her a curt nod.

At Brell's signal, Lottie bent over as if to tighten her sandal. A rehearsed move, to allow her to activate a small screen using the control panel hidden in her arm. Yesterday, Lottie dressed like a local worker and observed the tavern for two hours. She then returned to their lodgings and briefed Brell. Earlier this morning, Lottie went back to the tavern and planted smoke bombs underneath two nearby derelict vehicles.

Lottie nodded to Brell. The three-minute countdown had begun.

"Sister?" Lottie said.

Brell knew Lottie was speaking for the benefit of the men staring and commenting on them. "Brother. We should visit our fallen disciples. They only have ten minutes left to confess their sins."

They returned to the yard and found their way through the growing crowd to the cages.

Brell saw Katey flexing her legs. A sign she was readying herself for an escape attempt.

"Gentlemen. I would like one last visit, a final prayer," she said, handing over more credit notes.

"Search first," a guard said, holding up his hands.

Shouting came from the main bar. Instead of performing the search, the guard's stared over at the doors.

Heads turned, and loud gossip changed to a murmur of uncertainty.

"Explosion, smoke, fire outside," someone shouted.

Men squashed into the doorway to see what was happening. The guards glanced at the cages and gripped their rifles. One of them paced forward, unsure whether to hold his ground.

Noting their hesitation, Brell stabbed a guard in the groin with her jolter. Lottie stunned the other man. The guards fell to the floor, squirming and clutching their private parts.

Aware the executioners were staring at them, Brell thrust her jolter at them. Even though they were a few metres away, they stepped back. Smoke wafted through from the main bar, adding to the confusion. Brell felt inside her robe for the keychain and unlocked Katey's cage. On entering, she placed a hand on Katey's shoulder to stop her running out. "Stay, turn around, and standby," she said, in a commanding voice.

Katey faced the side of the cage.

"Neckband, hold on," Brell said, patting Katey's shoulder.

Taking the two rifles, which Lottie had seized from the guards, she stood in front of the cage. Looping one rifle over her shoulder, she gripped the other one with experienced hands.

Behind her, Lottie placed a square plastic device onto the back of Katey's neckband. A series of red lights blinked on and off in a circular pattern.

Brell felt a whoosh of air, as an object sailed passed her ear. She turned to see the executioner's hand raised. She pulled her hood back, as it was obscuring her view, and fired a shot into his leg, sending him to the floor. His assistant knelt to examine the wound.

A chair landed on her shin. One group of men had noticed the guards laying on the floor and were inching their way towards her. Planting her feet wide, she fired a line of shots at the ground in front of them. Hesitating, they could not decide what to do. Run into the smoke-filled bar or make a fight of it. Brell shot another burst of fire. On seeing a bald nun firing at them, the men put their hands up and moved backwards.

She glanced back at the cage; the device's lights were glowing on Lottie's face.

The scene at the door was one of confusion. Caught between a smoke-filled bar inside or weapon fire outside, the crowd started fighting each other.

She let off another burst, though prepared herself in case a few men tried to rush her. The guards moaned and moved their arms.

Shouts came from the back of the crowd. Brell saw more determined individuals pushing their way forward. She hoped they had not accessed the weapon depository.

"Lottie?" Brell said, her voice strong but concerned.

"Nearly there," Lottie said, examining the device as Katey held onto the bars, unmoving.

A sudden blast of scorching air and a loud boom sound made Brell instinctively duck her head. Chips of stone and wood from a beer shed splintered next to her. Men to the side of the blast fell over as others pushed back into the crowd.

The landlord.

His face like thunder, red and seething. He appeared through the smoke and crowd, holding a short-rifled musket with a wide muzzle. In his keenness to take a shot, he ignored the people standing in his way. His weapon packed a punch but lacked accuracy.

"Get the nun." The landlord's voice was angry and loud.

As Brell fired at him, he stepped back, pushing another man in his place, who took a bolt in his thigh.

She continued to fire as the men next to the landlord readied themselves to rush forward. One smashed a table and handed out a leg to men nearby. Heartened by the landlord's presence, they crouched and walked forward.

Brell fired. Shards of concrete flew up, making the men clutch at their shins or hop on one foot. Bottles and glasses smashed around her.

"Released. She's free," Lottie said.

The landlord came to the fore and readied his heavy weapon. Brell aimed and hit him in the arm at the same time as an orange blast flashed from the muzzle. Falling backwards from the recoil of the weapon and in response to Brell's shot, he fell into the arms of the men behind him. Outstretched arms took the landlord's weight, then propelled him back onto his feet. He grabbed his weapon.

Readying the other rifle with her left hand, Brell said, "Get to the gate."

Emerging from the cell, Katey paused.

"Get to the gate, Katey."

Katey grasped the cell key and threw it into the next cage, together with Lottie's device. "Do your best," she said to the prisoner as Lottie grabbed her arm.

"Go, go, go," Brell said, firing both weapons. Her aim was becoming less discriminate.

A guard grabbed her ankle. Stumbling, she kicked him in the face with her free foot. Using raking fire, she made a line for the gate as Lottie supported Katey.

"You won't get far, we'll find you. You'll all be executed," the landlord said as he lined up another shot.

Lottie manipulated another device and the rear gate started to slide open. She pushed Katey outside.

Brell dropped one rifle and brought the other one into position. She aimed for the landlord's stomach; it made a wide target. A slight recoil later, she knew her shot had hit its target due to the way he keeled onto the floor. Supported by other men, who helped to straighten his arm, the landlord fired. Heat blasted across her back, making her stumble through the gate. She pulled at her robes. Its thickness had deflected or absorbed the blast. She saw Lottie pull Katey across the street and disappear into a series of narrow lanes.

Of the few people travelling on foot or vehicle nearby, none showed any surprise at the sound of weapon fire. To them, it was a normal occurrence.

A small group of men ran around from the front of the tavern and the weapon depository. Shots zinged through the air as Brell reached the lanes. Drunken shouts and stumbling footsteps sounded behind her. She ran into the darkness, firing randomly behind her until the rifle ran out of charge.

Shots echoed around her as she sprinted and zig-zagged. After avoiding a late-night rubbish van at the last moment, she ran past two alleyways. Thankful for their walk-through yesterday, she spied the landmark; a house propped up by scaffolding. She turned into a dark alley. Catching up with a tiring Katey, Brell grabbed her trouser belt. Pushing her along a few metres, she shoved her into the rear of a small covered vehicle. Jumping in next to her, she heard Lottie fire up the engine.

They drove off into the gloom.

Having been outwitted, the men returned to the tavern with an expectation of free beer from the landlord. They were soon disappointed. The landlord lay in a large pool of blood. His recently arrived brother, the judge, was threatening to arrest everyone. When the local militia arrived, most men made a hasty exit.

A militia supervisor turned up and barked orders at his men.

He grabbed his communication device, aware of the judge staring at him. Raising it to his lips, he shouted out his instructions.

"Find them and kill them."

### Chapter 2

Police Corps Inspector Scrivvens leaned forward and held his breath. Brell and Lottie's locators were advancing across his mapping screen with increasing rapidity.

In his thirties, his youthful face and unassuming manner belied his Corps experience.

"They're on the move," he said to his assistant and partner sitting next to him.

"Two kilometres from their bedsit," Delta said, her voice smooth and sultry. She wore a pink jumpsuit and studied the location map with equal concern. Lottie was her best friend, a fellow robot with whom to share jokes and gossip via an encrypted bot network. Her body conveyed her origins as a pleasure bot. After Scrivvens' re-conditioning and upgrades, she had become a Police Corps assistant. An unlikely couple, the sultry Delta, and the straight-laced inspector.

They sat to the side of the pilot's chair in a small work area lined with holographic screens. The borrowed spacecraft, which Delta had renamed the _Pearl_ , was a two-person undercover craft. Destined for decommissioning, this was its last mission. Shaped like an ugly insect, the _Pearl_ floated amongst the thick layers of Kaznac's space junk. Scrivvens had to recall a pair of satellite cameras as the pollution made them unusable.

He turned up the volume of the local militia's communication channel. Patching into their systems had not been difficult. Kaznac, by Association standards, had little in the way of high-end encryption.

The tone of general militia chit-chat had changed to one of urgency. A male was barking out orders. Scrivvens squinted his eyes in concentration whilst listening to the rough accent. The regional variations and inflections made it difficult to understand.

"Delta?"

She nodded, listened, and translated. "The landlord of the Half Angel Tavern has been murdered. Suspects are a bald female nun and an old monk. A male prisoner due for execution was released. They are armed and travelling north of the Angel. Shoot on sight. One hundred credits for each body."

Scrivvens gazed at the map. Each time the locators stopped moving, he clenched his teeth.

"Lottie knows the route. They'll get back safely, honey," Delta said, putting a hand on Scrivvens's arm.

"I know."

Together, they watched the locators slow and then stop inside a rectangular image overlay.

"They are nearing their bolt hole."

Scrivvens held his breath. "They're in." He sipped at a cup of tea, which he realised had gone cold. "She'll be in touch when ready."

He got up to stretch his legs and fetch another drink. He walked two metres across the cockpit and into an alcove to fiddle with the auto chef.

A grainy image of the Half Angel appeared on a local Kaznac news stream. Poorly-drawn pictures showed a bald female nun with a jagged scar on her head and a monk in a religious robe.

"They've caught Lottie's best side," Delta said.

"Brell's scar, though, not a bad likeness."

He sipped at his drink and glanced over his screens. A communication icon flashed red. Delta immediately pressed it.

"We got her. Don't think we were followed." Brell's voice sounded in the silence of the cabin.

Scrivvens nodded. "Brell, it's good to hear from you. Everyone okay?"

"Yes. Bit of a shit storm in the pub, though."

"The local militia are hunting for you and it's on the news channels. They have little information. Thankfully they aren't any security cameras. The scar on your head has been noticed and they mentioned a male monk and prisoner."

"Think it best if we hole up here for two days. We need to recover and stay low."

"Get some rest. I'll update the commander and keep active watch."

"We'll settle Katey in and bung her in the shower. I'll speak in the morning. Lottie will guard the door."

"Okay. Have a good night." Scrivvens pressed the comms off icon. "Could you create an uplink up to the commander please, Delta?"

"Certainly, honey."

Delta brought up a sub-screen and made a few finger gestures to start the encrypted call. Routing itself via an untold number of relay boosters, it headed towards Elytia, the capital planet of the Association of planets within the Vorsan galaxy. Two world changing inventions were invented on Elytia, namely beam propulsion and space folding technology. The capital city, also named Elytia, became a central hub for technological industries, media companies and government departments.

After a delay, the comms screen cleared and Commander Brune S'Tr-Hert appeared. He was a typical Bermian, with a stout body and brown leathery skin. What he lacked in humour, he made up for in dependability. His first Police Corps posting, years ago, had been with Brell, who took him under her wing.

"Commander."

"What news?" Brune said, his face and voice unable to hide concern.

"All good, she's got Katey. They are all safe back in their bedsit. The local militia are after them; she had to mix it up at the pub. Going to lie low for two days until it blows over."

Brune took time to respond. "Thank goodness. You have to hand it to her, she gets the job done."

"Find Katey, get the Locardum ore, then kill Smiler, she told me."

"Can't blame her for that. By the way, we have nothing new on Smiler's whereabouts."

"Anything on the Tinker?" Scrivvens said.

"He's determined to find the Locardum. But we have no reports on his activities in this area."

"Understood, sir."

"Thank you. I'll update Commissioner Mourge with my rehearsed story. Speaking frankly, Scrivvens, I wonder if his interest in Brell is to do with finding the Locardum. Or his vindictiveness against her for nearly ruining his career all those years ago."

"I believe he will continue to hold a grudge. His seeming joy at trying to imprison her a few weeks back was palpable. She keeps silent about these things, but it affected her quite deeply, sir," Scrivvens said.

"I agree with you Scrivvens. Please keep an eye on her, this whole business is yet to play out."

"I will sir, plus I have Delta and Lottie as my spies."

"I can think of no one better. Good work, Scrivvens."

"Sir."

Delta cleared the link and patted Scrivvens on the back. "Go get some sleep."

Scrivvens looked at his half-empty cup. "Think I'll lay down for a while; wake me if anything changes."

"Will do, honey. I'll call Lottie later to check on things."

***

A thousand kilometres away from Brune's home on Elytia, Police Corps Commissioner Vandaros Mourge was working late inside his headquarters. In his fifties, he hailed from Elytia, hence his light-yellow skin. With an almost permanent scowl on his face, he sported a precisely manicured moustache. In his own bloated opinion, his looks gave him a certain swagger. His two aides, never far from his side or a communication cube, sat opposite him. Both of captain rank, one was a clean-cut athletic male and the other a blonde, unsmiling female.

The female glanced to her side. "A communication coming through from Commander S'Tr-Hert."

"What does he want?" Mourge said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Yes, commander? It's late."

"Sir, I thought you should know. A message has come through from Brell Sturlach. She is on Non-Association Kaznac and has found Miss Montil."

"Fracking, fricking whore. I should have sent her back to prison when I had the chance. What's happened? And don't hold anything from me, commander. I know you have a soft spot for that woman," Mourge said.

"If you remember, she received a message out of the blue from Miss Montil two weeks ago. Against my advice, she travelled to Kaznac to free the Montil woman, as she is the only one who knows the location of the Locardum."

"What is Sturlach doing? She provided the information we needed a while back. There is no need to become involved. She should be piloting her freighter around the arse end of the galaxy."

"Things have changed. She's intent on finding the Locardum ore, as she believes she will also come across the man who murdered her partner, Captain Ritsma."

"I don't care about her personal vendettas. Does she know where the ore is?" Mourge said, his voice rising.

"Not yet, sir, the Montil woman has only just been found. When she leads them to the ore, Miss Sturlach will transport it off the planet in her cargo freighter."

"A one-woman show?" Mourge said. He raised his eyebrows at the two captains.

"She also has a robotic assistant," Brune said.

"Listen, commander, I don't care about robots, I want the ore brought into Police Corps hands, is that clear? Order her to transport it to safety as soon as possible. Otherwise, there will be a nice cold cell waiting for her. I still have her recall to prison orders on my desk, together with demotion notices for you and Scrivvens."

"Yes, sir," Brune said.

Mourge paused and rubbed his chin. "Are you up to something, commander? Have you known about her plans all the time?"

"No, sir," Brune said, audibly swallowing.

"You had better be telling me the truth. And what of inspector Scrivvens, where is he?"

"He is checking Police Corps encryption integrity for an admin system. Working in a temporary building, well out of the way, sir," Brune said, in his best matter of fact voice.

Mourge grunted. "Commander. I need to know the exact location of the ore as soon as you get it. I will ask Space Corps to provide air and space cover to protect it."

"Yes, sir."

"That is all." He snapped off the link and turned to his aides. "So, whilst we have been waiting for Space Corps to get their act together after their hopeless reconnaissance missions, a woman lands on that shithole planet and virtually secures the ore. Thoughts?"

"Sir, the main aim is still to find the Locardum. If the Sturlach woman does that for us, then all we need do is secure it once it's outside Non-Association territory. She could be arrested and the load impounded for security screening," the male captain said.

"I agree, sir. Whatever her motivation, she would be doing all the challenging work for us," the female said.

"There is another thing." Mourge stood up and peered out of the window. "The Locardum. Should we stop criminals getting hold of it, or take it for Police Corps? He fingered his moustache. "What if we destroyed it? That would be an end to it."

He looked at the two captains. "If it was destroyed within the boundaries of a Non-Association planet, then it could be blamed on criminal in-fighting. I'm sure Space Corps will oblige with unmarked bombers."

He turned and gazed out of the window. "Of course, if Sturlach was with the ore at that time, then, that would be unfortunate."

***

A few kilometres from where Mourge was pontificating about the Locardum, the Tinker sat straining on the privy. He broke out in a sweat as he waited for a tonic to work through his system. Once satisfied, one of the Galaxy's most powerful crime lords shuffled his backside as the beam flushers kicked in.

He was in his workplace, a reinforced bunker sited underneath his restaurant. Located in Elytia Old Town, the décor of the establishment was at odds with the surrounding neighbourhood. His private home, however, was set within a secure compound in a swanky suburb.

He shuffled out of the privy, wiping his hands on his trousers and burping. With a plump face, three chins, and ruddy cheeks, he wore an old dressing gown over his suit. His appearance belied the criminal and violent activities of his past. Actions which enabled him to build and maintain his domain.

"Have to get more medicine," he said, holding his stomach. He spoke to himself, aware that his personal assistant, Regg would be listening.

Regg, stood, as usual, a discreet distance away. Wearing a grey suit, he spent most of his time with head bowed, examining screens.

"I'll order that now, sir." He tapped on a screen with one finger. "Will you be requiring your stress management session tonight, sir?"

"No. Send the girl away, bring her back next week. It's date night tonight with Mrs Tinker, Regg."

"Certainly sir."

The Tinker plonked himself on a sofa and reached across to select one of his pipes from a pipe rack. Filling it with a fine weed, he lit the bowl and blew out a few puffs of smoke.

"Regg, quick empire roundup, if you please." His small, dark blue eyes examined a huge display of screens, which provided a chequerboard of live streams.

"Sale profits for illegal drugs have dropped in the southern sector, but we should notice an upward shift once the updated versions hit the streets. We have acquired another block of warehouses using our legal portfolio. Some street gang leaders are reporting encroachment by other gangs at various locations."

"Think they see a weakness in old Tinker's empire, do they? Send in the head-bangers, Regg, to reassert our authority."

"Will do, sir. Also, Hortense has been trying to contact you, she has another idea for a profit-making scheme."

"She's never truly lost her circus performer heritage. She probably locks her people in a cage at night. Her patch is run efficiently, though. What does she suggest?"

Regg brought up an image of Hortense, a large lady who wore a small top hat on the side of her head.

"A type of kill game show for betting."

"Not sure about that. Too easy to hide their profits from me. Tell her it is a promising idea, I'll get back to her. Anything else?"

"The unloading crews on Alpeton space docks have been infiltrated."

"Good, their information will be very useful," the Tinker rubbed his stomach. "And dare I ask about Smiler, our most wanted man, who we can't seem to find?"

"No news. Our sources believe he is heading towards a Non-Association planet, possibly Kaznac. He may be there now."

"We can't let him get his hands on the Locardum before us, Regg. Can you imagine seeing his gloating face trying to sell it to us? We should have left him washing dishes after his previous cock up. Should never have trusted him, we told him too much."

"You picked him because he was the ideal man at the time, sir. His attempts at gaining the location of the Locardum nearly paid off."

The Tinker grumbled; only Regg spoke to him in a frank and open manner. That's why he trusted him.

"I'm certain he found out something. How did he escape from us? Re-apply pressure to all our people, Regg, we must find him and get that bloody ore. We need that obliterator weapon to show the others who is top dog."

"I'll increase our informants at hubs around Non-Association planets. We'll keep the crews in deep space to act quickly on any intelligence. Also, we can track likely freighters transporting any type of rock or ore."

"Good," the Tinker said. He rubbed his nose and scowled. "I don't want to become a laughingstock or seen as being over the hill. At the last leaders meeting, I saw a couple of them eyeing me up, questioning my authority, including what's her name the circus girl. Perhaps I should retire and take the family to our bolt hole villa and let the whole thing implode."

"We'll find the Locardum and manufacture the weapons, sir. There's life in the old empire yet," Regg said, trying to make his voice sound mellow and soothing.

The Tinker nodded. "You're right, Regg. Shouldn't grumble or get down. Anyway," he rubbed his hands together, "Order the skiff, Regg. I must not keep Mrs Tinker waiting tonight."

"Yes, sir."

### Chapter 3

Katey woke with a start as the dull dawn light strained through the curtains. She promptly placed a hand to her neck. Feeling only rough skin where the explosive collar had been, she opened her eyes. The warm body next to her lay on its side, facing the other way. Propping herself on the headboard, she took stock of the room. The figure sitting on a chair near a door had a pistol laying across their knees. Their face turned from a bank of screens and stared in her direction.

She lifted her loose undershirt by the top button and peered inside at her body. Her breasts were no longer constrained by a tight bandage and she smelled of antiseptic soap.

The woman next to her lay on top of the bed, fully clothed. As she studied the woman's bald head, her facial expression changed to one of surprise and concern.

A figure came into view and a hand lightly touched her shoulder. "Katey, it's okay, go back to sleep, you're free." A drink was held out to her.

Katey stared at the figure's face. It was plain but homely. Brell stirred briefly, moved her arms, but remained asleep.

"Take your time, Katey."

Katey took the glass and drained its contents. "Where am I?"

"What?" Brell said, "Smiler?" She shuffled her feet.

Katey watched Lottie walk around the bed and hold Brell's hand. "It's okay, Brell."

Lottie returned to Katey. "Katey. Sleep now, we need you."

Katey rubbed at her neck and examined Lottie's face. Consumed by tiredness, she yawned and pushed herself under the sheets. Rolling on her side, she felt the reassuring warmth of the other body.

***

A few hours later, Brell woke up and glanced at Katey. Her relaxed face was a contrast to the stressed woman sitting in a cage last night. After dressing and conversing with Lottie, she called the Pearl and spoke to Scrivvens.

"All good here, Katey is asleep, Lottie gave her a sleep sedative a few hours back. We'll spend today and tomorrow resting, debrief Katey and get her strength up."

"The Half Angel Tavern escape is on the news channels, as the landlord died. One of his brothers is a militia commander, so finding you is a high priority. How was Katey when you got back?" Scrivvens said.

"Overwhelmed. Lottie stuck her in the shower, looked her over, and gave her a load of health pills. She'll be entering a post-traumatic stress phase when she wakes. We'll keep an eye on her; she is very tired, but she has a strong constitution."

"Okay, I'll update you if we hear anything. I've informed Brune. Take care."

"Thanks, speak soon."

Brell asked Lottie to put some cream on her back. The blast from the landlord's weapon had scorched her skin. Pulling off her shirt and vest, she sat and leant forward as Lottie rubbed in unguents.

"It could have been worse," Lottie said. "It's a bit like sunburn."

"Do my shoulders, would you?" Brell said.

Brell felt Lottie's thumbs and fingers working on her shoulder muscles. She glanced over at Katey. Springing her out was an achievement but travelling to the Locardum's location and remaining safe on this planet will be another matter. She thought back to the Half Angel escape. Not one to revel in killing, she knew if the landlord had taken a better aim, they would not be here now. A necessary business. He was a bastard anyway.

"Lottie, can you dispose of our clothes from last night? I'll watch the screens. Throw them in one of those metal furnace chutes along our service road, they burn all types of crap in there."

"Okay, boss," Lottie said. She tapped Brell's shoulder to signify the massage had finished.

Standing up, Brell put her shirt back on. "If safe, we could do with fresh bread; the auto chef here is too basic. Also, visit the fourth-hand shops and buy more male clothes, including hats or caps. I need to hide my head scar. Go as your male local worker persona."

Lottie changed her facial image and put on a worn full-length coat, a shirt, rough fabric trousers, and boots. Gathering the clothes under her arm, she hunched her shoulders and exited the door. Brell watched Lottie descend the rear metal stairs and walk casually along the service road out of view. Maintaining a constant watch, Brell stayed rooted in her chair.

On Lottie's return, Brell helped her in with the bags. The fresh bread smelt wonderful, compared with the stale air within the bedsit. Upending the bags of clothing onto the floor, Brell had a brief poke around.

"Good selection, Lottie. Any problems?"

"No. Lot of people in the area. One militia patrol drove up the road. I kept well out of the way."

"I'm going to wake our sleeping princess, she's been out for twelve hours."

As Brell shook Katey's shoulder, she reacted by raising her fists, opening her eyes, and saying, "Come on, then."

"It's okay, Katey, it's me, Brell."

Wiping her eyes, Katey emerged into the present and sat up to take the warm drink offered by Lottie.

"This is Lottie. You may have seen her as the monk last night. She is a robot who can change her outer skin."

"Oh, I thought, there was someone else. You came to me earlier?"

"Yes, this is my normal face, it's taken from my creator, a robot scientist who imbued me with her memories," Lottie said.

"You'll get used to her, but don't try to give her orders. She's been specially programmed to be independent," Brell said. "Now, when you are ready, we need to talk, catch up, and outline the next few days."

Katey shakily stood up and walked into the bathroom. On returning, she was wearing a bathrobe. "Where are we?"

"Look out the window. It's a wonderful view."

Lifting the edge of a curtain, Katey blinked at the bleak light and gazed upon the scene outside. She observed the rutted roadway full of people, carts, and vehicles. Banging and clanking sounds echoed from workshops set along the street as well as from the owner's forge below them. A typical industrial area where inhabitants spent their lives bending or shaping metal. With choked lungs and bodies imbued with soot, people lived in their workshops, often renting out an upstairs room to supplement their income.

"I paid two weeks' rent with paper credits up front, no questions asked. We dressed as men and grunted our way through the conversations with the family downstairs. We hired their spare road vehicle, as well," Brell said. "We've got fresh food."

Katey helped herself to a slice of crispy bread and jam. "Did you shoot that bastard last night?"

"The landlord? Shot him in the stomach, he bled out."

"Good," she said, still staring at her bread.

From her observations at the tavern yesterday, the landlord must have done what he liked with Katey and the other poor sods there.

"Ready for a chat about the Locardum?" Brell said.

"Yes," Katey said, slurping on a bean brew Lottie had provided.

"First, please confirm you can access the Locardum and what we did last night was worth it." Brell studied Katey's face.

"Yes, I can. It's in an underground silo near a town called Winnow. I've been there."

"Have you moved it?"

"No. I confirmed my identity, verified it was there, and left to organise transport. All went downhill from there."

Brell sat back in relief and nodded over to Lottie, who put a thumb in the air.

"Take me through what happened," Brell said.

"I found out that a shipment of Locardum was last seen on Kaznac, in The Farmlands. Found the silo, long story, and the next day I visited their office. Through genetic tests, they verified me as one of the people allowed to access the ore. The problem was transporting it off the planet. Travelled to Dredge City spaceport, hired a reasonable crew. They got into a fight and we were arrested."

"At the Half Angel, by any chance?" Brell said.

"Yes. Work you to death or get executed."

"Could your mother have recovered the Locardum without you knowing?"

"She would not leave the farm or travel unless taken prisoner. She would kill herself or prefer the ore stayed in the ground rather than let anyone else get their hands on it. Particularly you," Katey said.

"Well, I could kick you out the door and whistle for the militia," Brell said, scowling.

"And I could shoot you both and leave," Katey said in a casual but threatening manner.

Brell pushed her chair back and paced around with hands on hips. "Okay, okay. Let's have it out."

Katey got to her feet, faced Brell and balled her fists. "Come on then."

"Your uncle," Brell said raising her voice, "it was him or me, life, or death on that bloody Convict Challenge gameshow. I gained my freedom through it. Officially out of prison." She ran a hand over her head. "You and your mother hate me. I get that. Blood runs deep."

Katey raised a finger and poked Brell's chest. "We should have had the proceeds of the Locardum by now and buying up all the neighbouring farms."

Smacking Katey's hand away, Brell raised a fist.

"Ladies, ladies," Lottie said placing herself between the two women. "Please."

Brell walked to the other side of the room. "I put my bloody life on the line for you. I could have stood and watched your execution last night."

"But you didn't."

Brell bowed her head, "No, I didn't." Her voice softened.

Katey stared over at Brell. She placed her hands over her face and spent a moment composing herself. "Since searching for the Locardum, I've worked in Tinker's gang or on my own; it's been hard. I just want to secure the ore, get off this planet, go home, and work the farm." She wiped her face with a towel that Lottie gave her.

"My freighter, the _Lulu_ ," Brell said, "with its fake identification, is in a protected space park. It's so secure, only myself and Lottie are allowed back in. How about we load up as much Locardum as we can and transport it off this planet?"

"That's fine, but I can't land on Association soil, I must be wanted." Katey put her hands in the air. "The whole thing was to gain the ore and sell it to save our family farm as Uncle Carac intended. The farm is making a loss, we have had to sell equipment to make ends meet."

"Things have changed, Katey, we cannot let this load be sold. You've seen the weapon that can be manufactured from the stuff."

Katey wiped her nose. "Yes, I was only a few metres from its first test firing. What do you mean it can't be sold?"

"Whoever you sold it to, the ore would find its way into the Tinker's hands one way or the other. It is non-negotiable."

"So, all the time I've spent searching for it, was for nothing?"

"Wait. Before you kick off again, hold on. Lottie, Brune's message, please."

Lottie activated a screen. Brune's face appeared.

"M _i_ ss Montil-Perrwinken, I am Police Corps Commander Brune S'Tr-Hert. I am here to inform you that upon successful delivery of the Locardum to a safe Police Corps location, you will receive a waiver for past crimes. You also have to agree to refrain from involvement with crime syndicates."

"Well?" Brell said, looking at Katey.

"No choice, then."

"Come on Katey. I need you to get onboard with this." She faced Katey, toe to toe and stared into her eyes. What happened next came as no surprise.

Katey sobbed. It was an instinctive reaction, a sudden release. A realisation, Brell knew, of someone who had gone through a significant amount of stress. Thrust back into a world where hopes and dreams have been shattered. It would come to a head at some stage; thankfully she didn't have a weapon to hand.

Without thinking, Brell put her arms around Katey, who returned the hug. No words were spoken.

After a while, the two women unclenched.

Katey sat down. "Sorry about that."

"You don't have to apologise," Brell said.

"I want to go home, simple as that. Can I speak to my mother?"

"Not directly. My colleague is in orbit supporting us. He can get the commander to call your mother, tell her you are safe, at least."

"Please."

"Lottie, update the _Pearl_ , will you?"

"Certainly," Lottie said, unable to hide her excitement at being able to talk to Delta.

"I'm going to have a smoke." Brell opened the door a fraction and proceeded to blow out smoke from her rolled-up leaf.

Katey refilled two cups with a hot brew and gave one to Brell. "What do you want, Brell?"

She sighed, flicked the empty smoke tube down the stairs, and shut the door. "I have a baby son growing in a birthing pool on a holiday moon. My partner, you shot at him, remember? A bastard psycho murdered him. Thing is, this man, Smiler, he's called, is after the Locardum, as well. I must assume he is on Kaznac. When I find him, I intend to kill him. So be aware of my little sideshow."

"A baby?" Katey said.

"Yes, when the laser pistol exploded during our hotel fight, it destroyed my ovaries. No natural birth. I hated you for that."

"I bought a crappy overpriced laser from a street punk. I am sorry for your injuries. At one point, I was going to shoot you, though. Good thing I didn't."

"Yes, indeed. We've both got reasons to hate each other. But I don't care a shit about much anymore. We need to trust each other, do the job, then go our own ways. Agreed?" Brell held out her hand.

Katie took Brell's hand and shook it firmly. "Agreed. I am indebted to you for having rescued me. Let's get the Locardum and get off this planet. No tricks."

"You two talking, it reminds me of an episode of _Plundering Pirates_ ," Lottie said.

" _Plundering Pirates_? That's one of my favourite beam shows," Katey said.

"Oh, for frick fracking sake," Brell said as Lottie winked at her.

***

Later in the evening, Brell grabbed the pile of clothes and put them on the bed. "We bought a few different clothes. Wanted to check out how we dress when we leave. What do you think, Katey, based on your experiences?"

"Stay acting as men, with the roadblocks, militia, and suspicious locals. Have you got any pipe for putting down your trousers?"

"Pipe?"

"You know, for a manly bulge. A prosthetic saved my life in a bar a while back."

Brell picked through the heap of clothing. "Will a sock do?"

"Rolled up tight. That will be fine."

Katey and Brell watched as Lottie picked out a sock, folded it into a tube shape, and stuffed it into her underpants.

"Alright there, Lottie?"

"That's better."

"Give it a scratch," Brell said.

Lottie scratched her crotch.

"Perfect," Katey said, laughing.

"We'll make a man of you yet, Lottie," Brell said, slapping her on the back. "My old chum, how's it hanging?"

"Well Brell, I don't think anything is hanging. Has something fallen off?" Lottie said, concerned.

"Oh, Lottie. What are we going to do with you? It's a saying between men. I'll leave it there. What back story did you use, Katey?"

"An off-worlder looking for work. Some strong local dialects are difficult to mimic. I said as little as possible. We could be two off-world workers—relatives, perhaps? Cousins? You are my taller, older cousin. Skin differences explained by intermarriage," Katey said.

Dressing in similar trousers, shirts, and woven threaded jackets, Brell placed a flat cap on her head and stood next to Katey.

"Cousins, what do you think, Lottie?"

"Better than saying you're her mother."

"Thanks, Lottie. Names?"

"Griss for me. Part of my real first name," Katey said.

"I'll be whatever, I don't know, err... Linn, that'll do. Lottie?"

"Call me Morton."

"As in Morton, the freelancer in _Plundering Pirates_?" Katey said.

"Correct. A no-nonsense character, who works on his own to investigate seedy crimes. Before you ask, Brell. He always gets his man, on and off duty," she raised an eyebrow.

"Good, well you can catch up another time with your bloody pirate show," Brell said. "Would you fetch Katey's comms bracelet and weapon, please?"

"Here," Brell said, "put this on your wrist and stick this sticky thing behind your ear. It's an earpiece which stays in place and doesn't show. Speak towards the bracelet, voice-activated, transmits location as well. We all have the same equipment. Transmission streams allow us to talk individually to each other, in pairs or as a communal group. Scrivvens and Delta can butt in anytime from their control channel."

"Range?"

"Good signal, long range. Bounces off one of Scrivvens' space satellites."

"Is that Inspector Scrivvens? I nearly shot him when he snooped around our farm."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't. I trust him and his assistant Delta completely. They are our eyes and ears. If you get a chance, have a chat with him, he was brought up on a farm like yours."

"Oh, I may do that."

"Weapons next. Me and Lottie have our jolters and a laser pistol each. Here's your pistol. It's a basic, turn the wheel job for stunning to deadly."

Passing it over, Brell watched Katey carefully. She placed the weapon in her hand and aimed it at a wall whilst considering its weight and balance. Glancing at Brell before placing it inside a jacket pocket, she said, "Don't worry, I'm okay. Just tired."

Brell nodded. "Understandable. Let's relax and have something to eat. Lottie, same guard duty as last night, I'll update Scrivvens."

Katey took a long shower, ate the high protein foods, and started to fall asleep in a chair.

"Time to turn in," Brell said, nudging Katey.

"Eh? Yes." She glanced over at the bed.

"Same side as yesterday?" Brell said. "But no touching."

"There may be farting, though," Katey said.

Lottie stood up and placed a chair near the door in readiness for the night's vigil. "And no spooning," she said back at Brell.

"Just keep your eyes on those screens."

"Will do, my lady," Lottie said in her Morton male voice, flipping a finger in the air. With a laser pistol across her knees, she topped up her internal power and monitored the outside world on the security screens. After performing a half hourly check-in with the _Pearl_ , she glanced over at the bed. Both women slept soundly, mouths open and snoring. Their noses were practically touching.

### Chapter 4

Algernon Bryan Bickle, known as Smiler, stepped backwards on seeing the guards raise their weapons.

"Now, now lads, let's not be hasty," he said, dropping his valise, and putting his hands in the air.

"Clear off," a guard said, his face incredulous at the sight of a man wearing a city suit.

"I've travelled a long way, and I can leave. But if the chief of the protectorate learns that you were the ones who stopped him receiving millions of credits, he may be unhappy."

Exchanging glances, the men kept their weapons level with Smiler's stomach.

Smiler pushed his hands higher in the air. "All I'm asking is ten minutes with your boss."

"Cover him, I'll call upstairs."

Within a few minutes, they ushered Smiler through the gates. He entered a large courtyard surrounded by old farm buildings. This was the central stronghold of Chief Joppa, the Protectorate of the Farmlands, a vast area of mid planet arable farmland. With its crops, wheat, and animals, the Farmlands was Kaznac's food bowl.

Smiler picked his way across the yard, careful not to step in cow shit. This drew hoots of laughter from onlookers.

Three farm girls walked alongside him for a while, carrying bags of laundry and food. His deep-set eyes, like a forest predator, studied their bodies. In his fifties, of medium height, with a round face and sparse hair, it was his lips which earned him his nickname. Being slightly curved at the edges, he appeared to be always smiling.

Chief Joppa's office was simply furnished. The reed mats covering the floor were caked in muddy boot prints. Paintings of animals and wheat fields adorned the walls. In one corner, two men were leaning over a table examining a large map.

"Chief, this is the man."

Chief Joppa stood up and studied Smiler. "A big city guy, eh?" He spoke in a rich regional accent.

Smiler examined the man. In his sixties, with ruddy cheeks and missing teeth, Joppa wore rough trousers, a flat cap, and a work jacket. Someone who appeared more at home in the fields than in command of the largest protectorate on the planet. The man with him was dressed in a similar fashion, with skin the colour of in-ground dirt. He was swarthy and robust and had a rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Good afternoon, Chief Joppa," Smiler said, nodding. "I have travelled far to get here. I have information regarding an exciting opportunity."

"Which is?" Joppa placed his thumbs in his belt.

"Millions of credits, for little effort."

"Explain yourself, off-worlder. I'm in no mood for games."

"Locardum is a rare ore. It is very valuable because of its use in a new weapon."

"So what?"

"There is a deposit of the ore in the Farmlands."

"Rocks, city man?"

"Let me explain this better. If you have the technology, look up an Association news story, months ago, from the Association planet Dorab," Smiler said.

Joppa nodded to another man who twiddled with a grey box. A news feature appeared on the large wall screen.

A figure in thick overalls wearing a helmet raised the nozzle of a cumbersome weapon. Leads and connectors led from the weapon into a heavy backpack. A plume of laser energy was unleashed. Police Corps officers, together with their van, were vaporised.

Joppa crossed his arms and glanced at the other men. "And this weapon comes from that ore?"

"Yes, it is subjected to an intense process. I don't know what that is, but it requires specialized equipment and people. The unique qualities of the ore allow the weapon components to be miniaturised. It's like a Space Corps cruiser's laser weapon strapped onto a man's back. You can see why it is valuable."

"Where is the ore, exactly?"

"Within the Farmlands area."

"The Farmlands?" Joppa laughed. "Where? Under a farm building or a shithouse?"

"Silos. You have Association-run silos, don't you?"

"Many. We charge a good rent for the use of the land, but we don't interfere with the owners. The local inhabitants of one hamlet hold an annual remembrance service for the men who tried to raid one such silo. I don't touch them, they don't touch me, and the rent is good. A status quo."

"Chief Joppa, I have seen from news streams about your problems with adjoining protectorates in the southeast. Imagine having enough credits to be able to build proper defences or take them over? Or you could use the credits for better equipment for your people, I don't know anything about farming," he said, with an affable smile.

"I'm sure all silos contain something valuable; gemstones, weapons, ore, whatever. It's not the done thing here."

"Chief, you can blame any raids on me, the Association man from the city."

"Perhaps."

"Also, I can broker a deal with the Tinker, a crime boss, who is determined to get his hands on the ore. He will not speak to Non-Assoc's, no offence."

"And you, what are you after?"

"A small percentage of the profits, personal ambition, and I like helping people," Smiler said, tilting his head in mock humility.

Joppa nodded to the man next to him. They disappeared into the corner of the room to discuss the matter. Three minutes later, Joppa turned to Smiler.

"Okay, but we are not implicated." He placed his thumbs into the top of his trousers. "So, where is it?"

"That's where I need your help."

"Help? You come all the way here with talk of millions of credits and you don't know where it is? Warren," he said to his second in command, "perhaps we should take him downstairs and let our boys have some target practice."

Smiler wiped a hand across the strands of hair on top of his head. "Chief, I will find it, I need your help. Do you have intelligence gathering capabilities, gossip, news streams, and so on?"

"Of course, why?"

"There are others after the ore. With help from your fine people, we will find them, they will lead us to it, and then we strike."

"What sort of others?"

"Criminal gangs. Also there is a particular woman after it."

"A woman?"

"I believe she will come looking for the ore, and for me, as well."

"Why?"

"I killed her partner, he was a Police Corps captain."

Chief Joppa and Warren exchanged glances and re-examined Smiler in a different light.

"Still a woman, though, shouldn't be a problem," Joppa said, laughing.

"She should not be underestimated. Ex-Police Corps, ex-prisoner, she is a tough bitch. But with your help, we will find her and follow her movements right to the ore."

"We have talked enough, city man. You have four days to find some solid information, otherwise you'll be used for target practice."

"Take him downstairs to the basement, show him the intelligence room and do not let him out of your sight," Warren said.

"Yes, boss."

"Thank you for your time chief," Smiler said.

With that, Smiler was pushed down the stairs and led into a windowless basement room. The door was locked behind him. An hour later, a man appeared with a warm meal, a blanket, and a piss pot.

"I'm your guard whilst you are still alive. Don't mess me about, city man." The man spat on the floor and rubbed the rifle slung over his shoulder.

Ignoring him, Smiler tucked into his meal, realising he had not eaten since arriving on the planet. Though a basic meat and vegetable dish, it was flavoursome. In Smiler's opinion, better than many meals he had eaten in expensive restaurants. With his plate wiped clean with a hunk of bread, he set it on the floor and sat back.

Fluffing up a hard pillow, he lay down and slept.

***

Following a hearty breakfast the next morning, they plonked him on a seat behind two men in a small room. Airless and windowless, it was crammed with banks of screens and communication devices. Smiler became increasingly frustrated and bemused as he studied the incoming reports. Sheep stealing, crop production, and tomorrow's weather were the highlights.

There was a knock on the door and a farm girl entered. The men grunted and ogled the woman as she set down a tray of drinks and food.

"Thanks, darling," one man said, smiling broadly.

Her cheeks flushed as she left the room.

"She's got a solid body."

"Did you see the size of her hands?"

"She'd grab hold of your ding dong and wouldn't let go."

The men laughed as Smiler rolled his eyes. He checked his chronometer. Sighing, he stared at the floor, then at the screens. "Do you track air traffic, space freighters, that sort of thing?"

"Only the unknown ones," a man said whilst biting into a chicken leg.

"Okay, thank you."

He waited until they had finished eating and ate what was left on one of the plates.

An event involving pigs, women, and a stick was playing on a screen. On other screens, lines of text ran under images of busy town squares, rail stations, and cow sheds. Squinting, Smiler read the text, written in plain language, scrolling underneath an image of a place called Winzmit.

"Win," he said aloud.

"What's that?"

"A place name that starts with 'win.'"

"So what?"

"If I told you a naked woman spoke those words to me, would you believe me?"

One man shrugged his shoulders. "Did you fuck her?"

"No, there was a security alert."

"Sounds like you don't have much luck."

"I've remembered what she said. Kaznac. At the Farmlands. It's, err, win."

The two men ignored him and laughed as a woman chased and failed to catch a pig.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, "I saw Winzmit mentioned earlier. Do you have any silos at towns or places beginning with w-i-n?"

The men ignored him.

One of them called his wife to ask about the health of their cows. After the call, he reached over to a side screen and scrolled to the end of the list. "We have Windygate, Winner, Winnow, Winken, Winsor, and Winx."

"Any with highly secure silos nearby?"

"That will be Windygate, Winnow, and Winx."

"How far are they from here?"

A map was tossed at him. "Use this, if you can read, that is."

Ignoring the comment, Smiler opened the map and found his current location. By using the index page, he found and marked a circle around the three towns. "Is there any specific intelligence from any of those areas?"

"No."

Smiler brushed a hand through his hair. Crossing his arms, he spent the rest of the day trying to stop himself from nodding off to sleep. The highlight of the afternoon was when the same farm girl visited with another set of drinks.

Eventually, Smiler's guard arrived and took him back to his room.

"I don't suppose there are any spare farm girls to keep me warm at night?" he said as the door was slammed in his face.

### Chapter 5

In the middle of the second day, Lottie waved her arm. "Problem. Militia in the street outside."

Brell peeped through the curtain. Four vehicles moved along the street, bumping smaller ones aside. Black uniformed men stepped out to wave their long batons at the scattering people and anyone nearby. A team leader, judging by the white flashes on his shoulder, gave orders.

"Standby, it may be a general street sweep. Hold on. Shit, two militia are talking to the family downstairs. The officer is pointing up to our bedsit and speaking. They're making their way round to the back."

"Can see them... yes, they are eyeing up the staircase," Lottie confirmed from one of her screens.

Brell pursed her lips as she considered the room.

"Katey, into the bathroom, act as a female. Lottie, take off your clothes, act as a broken bot, have your jolter nearby. Too many militia outside for a shootout. Let's see, I'm your older female cousin. I'll open the door."

Katey nodded, grabbed a handful of clothes, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Footsteps sounded on the metal staircase.

Throwing her pistol underneath the bed, Brell stuffed her jolter down the back of her trousers.

Bang, bang.

"Open up."

"Brell," Lottie said, tossing a small cap at her.

"I come," Brell said, slowing her voice. Adjusting the cap to hide her scar, she started to unlock the door.

Noticing Lottie's security cube, she flicked it with her toe, rolling it over. The screen blinked off.

She stepped back as two men in combat style uniforms walked in, batons in hand, pistols on their hips. They had the same gloating expression of people in a position of power.

The end of a baton was thrust into her throat.

"You, what is your name?"

"Linn."

She followed the man's eyes from her face to her body. He stroked her thighs with his baton.

"Keep yourself fit, don't you?"

"Da, da," Brell said. She kept still.

"Working?"

"Da, da. Look for work. Metal and farm. Look for work."

"Keep your hands out in front."

The other guard examined Lottie. She sat in a slumped position on a chair. Unclothed in her basic outer skin, she stared ahead, unmoving.

"Your bot?"

"Old, broken, I get fix."

He pushed the side of Lottie's head, toppling her onto the floor. She lay motionless.

"That's that," the taller guard said. "You," he pointed his baton at Brell, "stay still and keep your hands out."

Both men prodded the bed, tossed the sheets onto the floor, and exposed the old stained mattress. Brell turned and moved her backside against the wall, aware of the protruding jolter.

"Look at them stains," one said, raising his eyebrows, glancing at Brell.

The other sniffed. "Smells of fornication."

They examined the clothes lying on the floor. One of them hooked up a pair of underpants, which they studied closely.

Footsteps and shuffling from inside the bathroom attracted their attention.

"Who's that?"

They drew pistols and padded towards the door.

"Cousin, younger cousin. She wash," Brell said hurriedly, performing washing actions. "Wash, cousin, no harm."

Stepping back Brell studied Lottie laying on the floor. Despite the urgency of the situation, her discarded clothes lay in a neat heap. Lottie's eyes were half closed, but Brell knew she would be alert and waiting for a signal.

More shuffling noises came from inside the bathroom, after which the door opened.

Wearing a pair of shorts and a loose vest, Katey rubbed her hair with a towel as she stood in the doorway

"What's happening?" she said.

"Cousin," Brell said, "everything is okay. Don't move."

"Well, well, what do we have here?" The short guard said, replacing his pistol.

Using the tip of his baton, he lifted her vest. She immediately pulled it down.

Brell readied herself, aware of Katey's fighting skills. Had her imprisonment changed her sense of control, or would she want to exact revenge? "Cousin, be calm. Um, she not used to man."

"Well, she is in the presence of a real man."

Again, he lifted her vest this time, exposing her breasts. He gloated over her body. The other man joined him.

Katey made eye contact with Brell as the men examined her.

Seeing Katey becoming agitated, Brell mouthed silently, "Hold on."

Katey placed her hands by her side in submission.

"What do you think?"

"Bit scrawny."

"She's got tits, what more do you want? I think we could spare ourselves ten minutes."

The guard lowered Katey's vest and spoke into his communicator. "Control. This is four three two. We've got a lot of people to search here. Be another fifteen to twenty minutes." He winked at his colleague.

As he talked, Katey again locked eyes with Brell, who returned her stare and strayed her gaze to Lottie. She mouthed, "Standby."

"Right. I'll have the older one."

The taller guard turned to Brell and placed his baton into her crotch. "Over to the bed. Take your clothes off but keep your hat on. It's time to show you some Kaznac wonder."

He wiggled his hips.

She dug a hand into the back of her trousers and cupped the jolter in her palm. Stepping backwards, she drew the guard away from his colleague. She dangled her spare hand at her side and made a fist, which she shook in Lottie's and Katey's direction.

There was a loud exclamation of pain.

Brell brought round her jolter and zapped it into the guard standing in front of her. Though receiving a full charge in his chest, his clothing dissipated most of the energy. She grabbed him in a strong hug. Hooking a leg around his calf, she pushed forward. The motion took him by surprise and made them both topple onto the floor.

Vaguely aware of Katey and Lottie struggling with the other guard, Brell hit out, angling a knee into his groin. He punched back and pushed her to one side. With his free hand, he reached for his pistol. She flung herself across his body and made a grab at his wrist with both hands.

He kneed her in the chest, making her loosen her grip. He grasped his pistol out of its holster. Brell grabbed at the weapon, forcing it away from her.

Pzap.

The pistol bucked. A shot fired into the ceiling.

She held on.

Regaining composure, he gripped the pistol and began turning it towards her. Her sweaty hands could not stop the muzzle moving on its deadly arc.

Within a second, he groaned and convulsed, his limbs relaxing. Still holding his wrist, Brell pushed the pistol away from her face. Katey, armed with Lottie's jolter, was pressing it into the guard's head.

"He's out," she said, taking possession of his pistol.

Brell saw Lottie pointing a pistol at the other stunned guard.

"Kill him?" Katey said, who was now pointing the guard's pistol at his head.

"No, hold on," Brell said, putting out a hand. "Let's think for a moment." She stood up and regained her composure.

"Are we all okay?"

Katey and Lottie both nodded.

Brell put her hands on her hips and regarded the two men. The short guard lay on the floor, unconscious, one hand holding his private parts.

"Kneed him in the balls," Katey said.

"He put up a fight, but I stunned the frigger," Lottie said.

"Good job," Brell said, touching Katey's shoulder. "Right, let's sort this out. If we harm them further, the search will be doubled. I've got a better idea."

Once the sleeping guards were relieved of their comms devices, weapons, and pocket contents, they heaved the bodies onto the bed, placing them on their front. Brell tied their wrists with bathrobe cord and peeled off their socks, which were fastened around their mouths. Katey ripped a shirt into strips and bound the guard's ankles together.

"Lottie, it's not often you will hear me ask you this. Pull their trousers and underpants down below their knees."

"Certainly Brell," Lottie said, promptly leaning over the first guard.

Katey smashed the comms devices with the sole of a boot. "Could be useful, but deadly if found on us. What about the weapons?"

Brell nodded. "Was thinking about that; we have our own locally bought ones. But if they find us with militia weapons, it will cause problems."

Katey released the power clips and dropped them, with the pistols, onto the men's backsides.

Stifling a grin, Brell said, "Scrivvens can listen into the militia's comms anyway. Right, we must leave now. Change of plan. We should split up. Lottie, I need you to travel on your own to the _Lulu_ , take her up into orbit and standby."

"Boss," Lottie said. "I'll act as Morton."

"Good. Katey, we'll dress in men's clothes and make our way to the silo. What's best, to travel by bus?"

"There's loads of buses and frequent land trains, but hiring or stealing a zoomer would be better," Katey said. "What's happening with these two?"

"When they are found by teammates, their predicament will never be forgotten. In fact, it will still be talked about in twenty years."

After dressing, they filled shoulder bags with their weapons and food.

Brell spoke into her bracelet. "Scrivvens, urgent message."

"Go on," he said.

"We have to leave our safe house. Two militia came in, they are alive, unconscious, but restrained. Sending Lottie on her own to the _Lulu_ , to take her up to a safe orbit. Can't risk us all being found together. Me and Katey will grab a bus out of here. Find us a zoomer hire facility, well out of the capital."

"Understood. Delta will assist Lottie to the _Lulu._ I'll support you and Katey."

Brell and Katey stood at the end of the bed, examining the two pairs of bare buttocks, whilst Lottie made a final check of the bedsit.

"What do you think, Lottie?"

"Bit hairy," she said, from the back of the room.

Katey laughed. "From a cage to a room, fighting women and two hairy arses. What's next?"

"With Brell around, anything is possible," Lottie said, joining them.

"Thanks for that, Lottie. Jolt them in the necks and let's get on."

Three minutes later, they stood by the door. Brell held Lottie's hand, "You go first, good luck."

"See you both soon," she said in Morton's voice, disappearing down the stairs.

"Ready, cousin?" Brell said.

"Yes, cousin, let's go," Katey said.

### Chapter 6

Brell and Katey set off along the service road at the rear of their bedsit. Katey went up to a window ledge by a blacksmith and ran her fingers across its edge. She rubbed a light smear of dirt across her cheeks and under her jaw. "Look like workers," she said.

Brell copied her, realising her hands and face were too clean. As she walked off, she scratched the rolled-up sock stuffed inside her underpants as it itched.

The end of the service road led into the main rutted road, which ran along the front of their bedsit. A growing crowd blocked the way. Heads bobbed to gain a better view and conversations became more animated. Guards were beating three men with batons. A militia van turned up, and the men were bundled into the back. Two more security vehicles arrived, from which four men jumped out. They pushed and jostled their way through the crowd. Brell watched them run along the service road towards the rear stairs of their bedsit.

Holding the sleeves of each other's jacket, they threaded their way through the crowd. As they moved, Brell believed Scrivvens was talking to her. Once the amount of people lessened, she nudged Katey and pointed to her ear.

They stopped and leant against a wall. Katey, with both hands in her trouser pockets kept watch, as Brell brought her bracelet up to her lips.

Spitting first, then adjusting her hat, Brell looked at her boots. "Scrivvens?"

"Got you on the map."

"Lot of activity here. Militia out in force. We need guidance, no idea where we are going."

"Continue in your current direction for two kilometres straight along the road. It leads to an intersection with a wider thoroughfare. There is a bus terminal not far from there."

"Okay, we're on our way."

"I'll update as you go."

Katey nodded back to Brell, confirming she could hear Scrivvens's instructions.

Keeping a slow but steady pace, they mingled with the busy crowds of shoppers and workers. Small family-run industrial units, repair shops, tech upgraders, and eating houses vied for business. Steam, black smoke, and cooking smells swirled around. Occasionally they saw a basic robot, devoid of any clothing, being used for manual work. Brell remembered Lottie's surprise at how rudimentary the robots were on Kaznac. It was like seeing an old ancestor of hers.

"Militia found your two men. Don't know what you did, but there was a lot of sniggering. Their description was of two women and a broken robot, which had disappeared. The younger woman was said to be scrawny, the older one tall but dumb. But both women could pack a punch."

Brell and Katey exchanged a glance.

"Hold on, just listening in. The supervisor is shouting at the men to stop talking. He's asked whether this is related to the Half Angel."

Brell continued walking.

"Unlikely, the reply has come back. Half Angel involves two men and a bald female, they've dropped the nun bit. The man says the bedsit definitely involved women only."

"They tried it on with us. They didn't notice my head scar."

"The supervisor has arrested the two militia men for allowing themselves to be overpowe _red by women. Everyone has been ordered to get back to finding the Half Angel suspects_."

"Okay, we'll keep going this way. Lottie okay?"

"Yes, she is making steady progress."

A light drizzle started. Brell felt it on her face and welcomed the coolness until it touched her tongue; it tasted acidic. Numerous people had wrapped their faces in scarves to filter the air. She coughed often as did Katey. Many of the locals, whose lungs would be lined with metal, were smoking.

They passed dilapidated residential blocks with individuals loafing around the entrance steps. Drug pushers, hawkers, and sex sellers were openly advertising their wares. Continually fending off the vendors, they kept a keen eye out for any militia.

Brell was grateful to reach the main road junction.

"Turn left, one hundred metres to the bus terminal."

"Where should we take the bus to?" Brell said, turning to Katey.

"Any town near the Farmlands with a zoomer hire shop."

"Scrivvens?"

"I have no idea of bus numbers or routes. Find out some destinations and I can look them up."

The terminal consisted of a large paved area with vague markings on the rough surface. Three faded red buses were parked next to each other, and a few metres away there was a waiting zone with street vendors and a ticket booth. The drivers shared a joke with each other, one of whom swigged from a beer bottle.

Amid the normal activity of a bus station, Brell's shoulders dropped at seeing four militiamen. One pair stood by the ticket booth, scrutinising people making purchases, whilst the others wandered around on foot patrol.

A board with destination and calling points leaned against the side of the ticket booth.

"Shit, we've been noticed, we can't turn back," Brell said on realising they had walked too far into the station. Withdrawing would mark them out.

Scratching her crotch with one hand, Brell put the other in her trouser pocket. With her heart thumping and a sudden dryness in the mouth, she walked passed the two men patrolling by the buses. They made it to the street vendors and stood amongst small groups of people nearby.

Brell placed her fingers to her lips as she examined the vendor's wares. "Distraction?"

Katey rubbed her chin and said, "Reinforcements will arrive. No, bluff it out. I'll do the talking, cover me."

"Okay." Brell studied the area. "Any problems run, Scrivvens will direct us back together."

"Copy that," Scrivvens said.

They ambled over to the ticket booth and examined the destination board. The militiamen stood either side of the booth hatch sharing a joke with the person inside. Brell felt the gaze of the nearest man as she bent her head to scrutinise the board.

"Hilkettle, Dazmoss, or Cavendish? Which is the best bus?" Katey said.

" _Standby_ ," Scrivvens said.

It seemed like a long, awkward time, especially as Brell could see the militiaman's boots out of the corner of her eye.

" _Hilkettle_."

"Let me see. Hilkettle is our best bet," Brell said.

Katey spat on the ground and nodded to the two men, who stared back at her. She stepped forward to the booth hatch and bought tickets.

Brell walked to the side, keeping a hand on her shoulder bag, her thoughts on the pistol inside. It was difficult to relax her facial expression due to a rivulet of sweat running down her spine. Though confident her undervest was tight, she folded her arms across her chest.

One of the guards turned to face her. "Where you off to, then?"

"Hilkettle," Brell said in a low voice.

He grunted back. She felt his gaze on her. He studied her face and then her shoulder bag.

"What's inside?" he said.

Brell stayed still as Katey joined her, holding two pieces of paper.

The guard now stared at Katey.

"Hey." It was the other guard standing by the booth.

Brell tensed, her eyes straying to Katey who was equally alert.

"Look at the tits on this one."

"Eh?" the guard said.

"Tits."

The guard gave Brell a dismissive wave and returned back to his colleague. A well-built woman wearing a tight blouse was approaching the ticket booth.

"Number twenty, leaving soon, thankfully," Katey said, her voice showing strains of tiredness.

They joined the line of people having their tickets inspected by the bus driver. He was a sweaty man, unshaven, who rubbed his chin, a weed smoke hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

Upon boarding, Brell motioned for Katey to take a window seat, near the back. Scooting in next to her, Brell spread her legs in a manly style and moved her foot into the aisle.

"Scrivvens, we are on the bus waiting for it to travel."

"Good. For your information, Lottie reports tha _t_ the _Lulu_ wil _l be in orbit soon. She has checked the hull and the inside, including the hidey-hole, and no tracking devices were found_."

Brell smiled, "Lottie is probably dressed as Engine Room Fanny at the moment."

"Engine Room Fanny? As in _Plundering Pirates_?" Katey said.

"Yes, she often dresses up as her favourite characters whilst working. She'll be back to basic jumpsuits when she lands, though."

"From what I have seen, you have a hell of an assistant there."

"She is special, I'll tell you about her creator some time. Delta is something else, as well," Brell said, lowering her voice.

After much spluttering, the bus started its glide engine and swept out onto the main road.

Brell raised her hand as if to scratch her nose. She spoke softly into her bracelet. " _Scrivvens? We are on our way. Keep a listening watch, would you?_ "

"Understood," Scrivvens said.

In silence, Brell watched the sea of people outside of the bus window. Multitudes of people somehow scratching out a living.

At times, the bus screeched to an unexpected halt as carts and pedestrians flooded across the road. The driver gesticulated and swore at them on every occasion. Once, the bus hit the side of a cart, spilling boxes of vegetables onto the ground. Within seconds, a gaggle of people stole the goods. Brell saw the angry and bewildered owner staring at the bus as it drove off.

The steady rhythm of the engine sent Katey to sleep, her head resting on the window.

During a slow crawl, they came alongside a militia van. Brell saw its driver yawn as he glanced across at them. Brell reached over and pulled Katey's hat down a fraction over her eyes. She then tilted her own cap, folded her arms, and lowered her chin. Every screech of the brakes made her believe the militia were stopping the bus for inspection.

Slowly but surely, the bus wove its way along before entering an overhead freeway.

***

Brell woke with a start. Blinking, she tried to make sense of her surroundings. From the green trees lining the streets, they were a fair distance from Dredge City. The bus was virtually empty.

"Scrivvens?" she said.

"Hi. You are in the outer suburbs. I can see your bus on camera, as the atmospheric air is clearer."

Katey moved her arms and yawned. She sat up and pushed her hat backwards.

"Alright?" Brell asked.

"Yeah, needed that. Everything okay? Where are we?"

"Outer suburbs."

"Brell. I have an update from Lottie. In secure orbit two kilometres from us. Do you want _her to pick you up_?"

Brell glanced at Katey.

"Too risky, militia may have monitoring sites for foreign craft. Hiring a zoomer would still be the best option. We can fly over checkpoints," Katey said.

"Okay, this is what we'll do," Brell said whilst looking at Katey. "Low key for the time being. Can't risk it. No unwarranted attention. _Lulu_ to remain in orbit until our signal."

Katey nodded.

Thirty minutes later, Scrivvens spoke up. " _You are nearing your bus stop. It is too late to_ hire a zoomer. Will guide you into an area with hostels, unless you can think of anything else."

"Stay as men, cousin. We'll get a cheap place for itinerant workers." Katey said.

Enjoying the ability to stretch their legs, they made their way from the bus stop into the middle of town. On the edge of the industrial protectorate, it was cleaner and less populated.

"We are looking for farm work, packing vegetables or fruit," Katey said.

Soon they reached a road full of hostels catering for the burgeoning immigrant workforce. Brell followed behind Katey as she stepped up into a doorway. A sign nailed to the door read; "No animals, Binktons, or Zukins."

"One room, one night, two peoples," Katey said. With her thumbs in her trouser belt, she stood with her legs apart, speaking in a deep voice.

"Pay up front. Food across the road. Out by ten. Extras available."

Brell leant forward and proffered a credit note. Payment accepted, Katey was handed a key.

The fourth-floor room consisted of a single bed and a bathroom with privy and sink. A curtain hung against a windowless wall.

"We can push the bed against the door, secure enough during the night," Brell said. "Hungry?"

Finding a table near the corner of a grill house, they kept to themselves. Katey ordered the food, which arrived in hot steaming bowls with a hunk of bread. The local meat and vegetable stew was delicious and wholesome. Full of itinerant workers, the restaurant did not appeal to the local militia.

Careful of their surroundings, they chatted briefly, paid up, and returned to the hostel.

After talking to Scrivvens and satisfied they were not followed, the two women got ready for bed.

"Upsy downey's?" Katey said.

"You what?"

"Heads at different ends. Works best in a narrow bed."

"Sure," Brell said.

"I'll leave you ladies to your upside-down thing. _Have a good night_ ," Scrivvens said, unable to hide his amusement.

***

After breakfast, Scrivvens directed them to a zoomer hire shop, situated next to a bland jumble of industrial units.

" _Rear yard has four old zoomers parked up," Scrivvens said. "Appears to be a small business_."

"We'll give it a try. Hopefully, it's family-run with an eye on credits rather than identities."

Katey walked in first, with Brell holding back with one hand on her pistol. The shop was stocked with basic supplies of bread, drink, and confections.

"Help you?" the shopkeeper said, staring at an open book laid on the counter.

Behind him, two women and three children sat on the floor in a small anteroom, playing and eating

"Want to hire a two-person zoomer," Katey said.

The shopkeeper looked up and gave a wide smile. "We do good rates, how long?"

"Three days. Searching for work in outlying farms."

"No problem, no problem. Need to call local militia with your identity first. New travel rules."

"We are in a hurry, my cousin and I," Katey said. She nodded to Brell who nodded back. "How about I pay a larger deposit."

"Have to call militia. Cannot risk business."

One of the women looked up at Brell and Katey, her hand still moving a little truck along the ground in front of a young child.

"Can we come to an agreement?"

"No agreement. No ID. No zoomer," he said, folding his arms.

Brell bit her lip, then breathed out. She raised her pistol and leaning across the counter, aimed it towards the shopkeeper's stomach. "We are taking a zoomer. Don't do anything silly," she said, making no pretence of changing her voice or acting as a male.

Katey jumped over the counter, knocking a smoke tube display onto the floor. It clattered and startled the women, one of whom stood up. The shopkeeper beckoned her back with his hand.

"Start up. Codes or card?" Katey said, grabbing the shopkeeper by his collar.

"Codes."

"Location device?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Small box underneath."

Brell stared past the shopkeeper and saw one of the women interacting with a small comms cube. "Stop her contacting the militia," she said.

With Katey still holding his collar, the shop owner twisted his neck awkwardly and spoke in an undiscernible language. The woman pushed the cube to one side and stared defiantly at Brell.

The shopkeeper regarded Brell and Katey for a moment. "You two. I think. Wanted by militia? I do nothing until they arrive."

Brell removed her hat and bowed her head briefly, revealing her scar.

His facial expression changed.

She pointed to her scalp. "Recognise this?"

He nodded.

"This says, your business goes up in flames, unless you help."

"Brell." Scrivvens voice cut in. "Two militia vehicles have appeared from a building and are driving at speed in the town centre towards your general location."

She nodded to Katey.

"Outside. Now."

They bundled the man into the yard and examined the four zoomers. All two-seater versions, their slim shaped design contained a single rear facing beam engine and take off thrusters. With battered hulls and repaired side panels of differing metals, it appeared more like a scrap yard.

Brell tilted her head and listened. Sirens were sounding.

"Hear that?"

"Yup," Katey said.

"They've turned and are heading directly to you. Four hundred metres away," Scrivvens said.

Brell waved her pistol towards the craft, "Which is the best one?"

The shopkeeper, crossed his arms and grinned. He then nodded towards the zoomer nearest the fence.

Brell fired a shot into the ground and jabbed the hot muzzle towards his stomach. "Now, tell me that again."

The shaking finger pointed to the zoomer nearest to them.

Katey opened the side door of the zoomer, to reveal a small ladder. She invited Brell to go up first. Brell threw her bag in and settled herself into the pilot's seat. Katey slapped the back of the shopkeeper's head, at which point he shouted out the start up sequence.

Brell repeated the code aloud whilst tapping the numbers into the console. "Got it. Scrivvens?"

"They are pulling up outside."

She pressed the ignition button and the main engine started. It reverberated noisily inside but settled to a satisfactory tick over. Brell twisted the throttle and revved it in neutral. She reached into her pocket and tossed a credit chip out towards the shopkeeper.

It struck him on the chest. He clutched himself with one hand as if he had been shot, whilst pointing animatedly to the location device on the undercarriage.

"Four armed men entering shop." Scrivvens voice was urgent.

Brell heard a thud underneath the hull, then Katey scrambled inside. "Go, go."

The craft only ascended a few metres as Brell worked hard on the juddering throttle. It seemed to hang in the air neither wanting to ascend or descend. Concentrating, she kicked in the main engine but its response was sluggish.

"They're firing at us." Katey said turning to stare out of the passenger side window.

"Hold on," Brell said as she jerked the joystick back and forth.

The zoomer tilted violently.

Laser bolts zipped into the air, narrowly missing the craft.

"This is a bitch of a thing," Brell said, eventually putting distance between themselves and the zoomer shop.

She flew directionless for a while to familiarise herself with the controls. After performing a series of manoeuvres, she brought the zoomer back into a level position.

"Got the hang of it. Right. Scrivvens?"

"I'm here," he said.

"Anything suspicious in the air?"

"Nothing seen."

"Good. Katey knocked out the location device, so we shouldn't be followed."

"We'll be over the Farmlands soon. Different lot of militia there," Katey said.

"Threw the shopkeeper a credit chip to soften him. He'll make a claim for a new craft no doubt but his missus will take the chip off him and tell him to shut up and act confused."

They flew on for a while.

"Good job back there. We should hold up credit banks or something, make a fortune," Brell turned to Katey. "Looks like a clear journey with plenty of fuel. Rest up, if you want."

Without hesitation, Katey slunk back into the seat with her head down.

"Scrivvens. Directions?"

" _Turn right a bit, over the fields for quite a few hundred kilometres, give or take. Winnow will be around there somewhere_."

"You don't fly much, do you?"

They flew over a border security checkpoint set in a fence which snaked across the landscape. Judging by the lines of traffic, the guards were taking their time. Brell glanced at Katey, already fast asleep. She was correct in her proposal to use a zoomer on this unknown planet.

"They don't like flying in the Farmlands," Katey had recently said. "Farmers like to keep their feet on the ground, close to the earth."

A patchwork of fields, vast and golden in colour, was all Brell could see in front and behind. Large farm buildings, outhouses, and sheds skated by underneath, joined up by narrow roadways or irrigation channels. Occasionally, she saw a land train gliding along its almost invisible tracks. Fast expressways linked up the towns and communities of the protectorate. The train stations had large container yards, used for depositing, or picking up farm produce.

Relaxing, Brell trailed one hand on the joystick and engaged the autopilot. She chomped on a snack bar and drank some water. The beam engine purred and the hull vibrated as the landscape unfolded beneath her.

***

" _Brell, you'll be at the silo soon_."

"Thanks, can you link us all up?" Brell said, pausing for a moment. "Lottie, anything to report since we last spoke?"

"T _he_ _Lulu_ _is in good shape. Into a holding position above you_."

"Scrivvens, any activity to worry about?" Brell said.

" _No. Just farm workers and vehicles_."

"Katey, anything?" Brell said, turning to her.

"No. Land in front of the silo, everything is underground. I'll re-identify myself with the silo people and arrange the collection."

" _Understood_ ," Scrivvens said.

"Lottie, stay in position, ready for our signal," Brell said.

" _Understood_ ," Lottie said.

Brell swung the zoomer into its final descent and landed. Within minutes she was walking beside Katey towards the entrance.

### Chapter 7

"Scrivvens and Lottie, it's a no-go. We need to come back tomorrow for a booked time slot at ten. Stand down. There's nothing we can do here," Brell said on returning to the zoomer.

Katey stood next to her. She could not hide her disappointment. "Shit. At least I can still access it. Tomorrow it is, then."

"Where's best to go?" Brell said, starting the engine as Katey jumped in. "I don't want to risk using the _Lulu_ overnight, so anything local?"

Katey gazed out of the window. "Not back to a town. Have to be Jabe's shed. Was trying to avoid meeting him, as it will need a lot of talking first. But it's only a few kilometres away." She jerked her thumb behind her.

Brell brought the craft around, lowered altitude, and decreased acceleration. Katey leaned forward, examining the landscape.

"Ahead, farm buildings, see them?"

"Yes."

"Fly over the large metal roofed building." Katey waited. "There. You can land anywhere nearby."

Securing the zoomer, Katey brushed her clothes down and spat on the ground. "Get one of your spare credit account cards ready."

Jabe, a spotty-faced, gangly man in his early twenties, stood by the door of his shed, watching the two women walk towards him. With his hand shielding his eyes from the sun, he smiled at the visitors. On recognising Katey, he waved.

"Jabe, how's my old stud doing? I'm back," Katey said, ensuring her voice was slower and deeper.

"Griss. Great to see you," he said, stepping forward and shaking her hand. "How's things?"

"Good, travelling with my cousin here," she indicated Brell who smiled back. "Dare I ask, how is Gerda?"

"We are getting married," he said, with a wide grin. "If you're still in town, come along. Your girlfriend is maid of honour. She talks about you. The one that got away, she says."

"Listen," she said, changing the subject, "we are in the area on important business, as we talked about before. Can we stay here in your shed for the night? We'll be gone by the morning. I've credits to pay our way. It will help with your wedding bills." She held her hand out to Brell, who placed a plastic disc into her palm.

"Sure, Griss, no problem, come in," he said taking the credits. "Show you around."

They followed him inside. The windowless building contained workbenches full of bot parts, machinery, and stripped motors. It smelt of oil and grease. A partition made of roughly-shaped bricks was situated in one corner, behind which stood a basic privy for toilet functions only.

"Got a mattress," he said, blushing, "a couple of blankets, and an old auto chef on a workbench. It's okay for basics."

"This has seen a lot of action," Katey said, pointing towards the stained mattress, and making a fist.

"Might have," he said, sheepishly.

"That's my boy," Katey said, slapping Jabe's shoulders and winking back at Brell.

"Hey, Griss, fancy a quick beer at The Stoggers?"

"No, we are good, been travelling all day, very tired. Have to look after my cousin," she pointed to her head.

Jabe nodded at Brell, who put on a fixed stare.

"Okay, Griss. I've finished here. I'll go and see Gerda, talk about the wedding. I'll leave the work shed unlocked."

"Prefer it if you don't tell Gerda about me coming back. Don't want to break the maid of honour's heart again."

"I understand, doing the honourable thing. Tell her after you've gone, she would like to know you came back."

"Thanks, mate." Katey shook his hand. "Gerda is a very lucky woman, you know." Katey winked at him.

Brell waited until Jabe left before speaking. "So, you have a girlfriend?"

"It is a wonderful story involving me being groped by a drunk farm girl in a bar. I grabbed her bubbies and ended up in the back of a crop van. Hence me going on about having a prosthetic."

"Go all the way, then?" Brell could not resist asking.

Katey twisted her lips, "Very nearly. Sprayed her unconscious at the last moment. It was close, could have been very dangerous. Anyway, that's why I don't want Jabe to tell her I'm here."

"You do make a good 'man,' cousin."

"Thanks, cousin."

"Let's settle in, I'll contact Scrivvens to scan the area."

"I'll check around the shed."

***

Mourge sat at the head of a large oval table, chairing a meeting of the "people's panel." He glanced at the attendees; his interest level had waned within the first five minutes. His deputy answered questions in a polite and professional manner.

He stared at his personal cube and was glad when a screen popped up.

Leaning forward, he gave his best reluctant smile and said, "I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen, I have urgent business to attend to." Without waiting for any replies, he left the room.

"What a load of boring crap. What's happened?" he said on entering his office.

"Sir, I have a message from Commander S'Tr-Hert. I thought you should know straight away," the female captain said.

"Put him on," Mourge said.

Brune's face appeared on the screen.

"Commander?"

"The location of the Locardum has been confirmed."

"Do they have it now?" Mourge raised his voice.

"No, there is some sort of booking system."

"When?"

"Being picked up at ten in the morning, Kaznac time."

"I presume Sturlach is using her freighter?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you have told her to haul it to the nearest Police Corps base on Association soil?"

"I have told her, sir."

"I've never trusted that woman, we go back a long way. I will hold you to account if there are any problems."

"Yes, sir."

"Once the ore is safely stored on Association soil, I will think about withdrawing the demotion and prison orders."

"Yes, sir."

"Anything else you want to tell me?"

"No, sir."

"Good. I'll contact Space Corps and have them provide an escort. Thank you, commander, that is all." Mourge snapped off the connection. "Get me the Space Corps Chief, will you?"

He stood up, looked out of the window, and watched a group of new recruits marching in columns to their next lesson. Their arms swung out wildly, lacking any rhythm.

"On link now, sir," the female captain said.

"Chief, I have the information for you regarding our little job. It's at ten tomorrow, Kaznac time. Will send through the location on encrypted," Mourge said. He paused whilst listening to the other man before responding. "Yes, I can confirm the request. I appreciate there may be deaths, it is a proportionate response. Public safety and stopping a criminal gang from creating a deadly weapon are a price worth paying."

### Chapter 8

In one of the silo's rear offices, a maintenance clerk twiddled with her hair as she studied an unauthorised collection of images taken from the visitor's section. Out of the five visitors that day, it was the odd couple wearing rough clothing, that made her narrow her eyes in thought. The name of the person claiming their silo contents, did not match their manly appearance.

Her supervisor entered the office holding a drink. Stiff jawed with pinched features, he walked towards the clerk.

With deft strokes on the keyboard, she flicked her screen back to lines of scrolling security and maintenance information.

"Here," the supervisor said, placing the drink carefully on the desk.

"Thanks."

He leant behind her and watched her screens.

"Anything?"

"No, systems all good."

The supervisor nodded and went to his own larger desk set against a wall.

The clerk rubbed her lower lip and stared at her supervisor and then at the door. Bringing up a security screen, she temporarily overloaded an energy node which supplied power to the silo's perimeter fence. A red warning icon appeared on the supervisor's screen.

The supervisor, already sitting bolt upright in his seat, said, "Fence problem, one percent loss of efficiency."

"Probably, just a blip," the clerk said, watching the supervisor's movements.

As he leant his head forward and tapped furiously on a keyboard, the clerk went back to her previous screens. She created an outgoing message and attached images and information about the strange visitors. With a quick glance towards the supervisor, she sent the message on its way through an encrypted bypass network to the local Protectorate representative.

***

Smiler sat on the bed and picked at one of his toenails. With no warning, the door opened.

"Chief wants to see you."

He glanced at his chronometer. "Still two days to go, isn't it?"

"Now."

Once his socks and shoes were on, Smiler stood up and followed the guard. Instead of heading towards Joppa's office, they ended up by the intelligence room. Smiler wiped a hand on his trousers.

Joppa was sitting next to one of the information researchers, with Warren standing behind him. They were examining a series of screens.

"Sit there," the guard said, pointing to a chair at the rear.

Joppa turned to Smiler. "Does the name, Grisella Katey Montil-Perrwinken mean anything to you?"

Smiler's eyes widened. "Yes, the niece of the man who shipped the ore to Kaznac," Smiler said. He put his hands in his pockets, took them out again and smoothed his hair strands.

"Got an image here." Joppa gestured with his hand towards the researcher.

Smiler watched the clip and sat forward. It showed two people in the front office of a silo.

"Well?" Joppa said, staring at Smiler.

"The taller one is the woman I mentioned before, Sturlach; her skin is normally light blue. The other person must be the Montil woman. They have made themselves look like local men."

Joppa nodded. "The Montil woman's identity is an exact match with a wanted prisoner from a tavern in Dredge City. If we take her alive, there will be a nice bonus in it for the lads."

Warren stooped over another screen and brought up a news story. "Here it is, boss. Half Angel Tavern, the man-woman was broken out of a cell just before execution. They are also searching for a female nun and a male monk."

"That would be the other woman. I gave her that scar."

"What about the monk?"

"Must be a colleague of hers. Chief, this is the woman I was telling you about. She would have sprung the Montil woman out of the Tavern in order for her to pick up the Locardum."

"The silo is at Winnow, which is five hours by fast land train," Warren said.

"Warren, travel with our guest here make sure he tows the line now the ore is within reach. City man, it's all on your head if it goes wrong. As soon as you have your credits, I want you out of my protectorate. Is that clear?"

"Yes, chief," Smiler said.

"Speak to Warren for what you need." Joppa got up and left the room.

They drew up a list of equipment, men, and supplies whilst examining a map and images of the area. Using heavy goods trucks, they departed within the hour and headed in convoy to the train station.

Once everything was loaded and secured on freighter bogeys, the train sped towards Winnow. On Chief Joppa orders, timetables were altered to give the train priority routing.

Upon arrival, they travelled to a nearby farmhouse, where the owner had no choice but to take them in. Glad for the trip to have ended, Smiler checked his chronometer. They had arrived earlier than he thought.

He asked Warren about the employee who provided the silo information.

"She's a maintenance clerk, a local girl from a large family, I believe. Her home is less than an hour from here."

"It's not too late. I'd like to visit her to make sure we lessen the risks tomorrow. Afterwards we can talk tactics."

Warren considered the request. "Okay. But what do you have in mind? We prefer not to upset the locals, they are our biggest supporters."

"A threat with explosives. Creates uncertainty, fear, and compliance."

"Just threats, city man?" Warren said, staring at Smiler.

"Just threats, Warren. I need explosives in a round tube, about this long," he indicated the size with a thumb and forefinger. "And a high-range remote control. Is there anyone who has the knowledge to do this?"

"Find the local man, someone," Warren said.

A man duly arrived, wiping his dirty hands on an apron. After Smiler's briefing, he said, "I can adapt the explosives we use to blow foundations. I'll stuff it into our small feed supplement cannisters. A remote trigger could be re-calibrated, won't take too long."

"Good. Now, this is a man I can work with," Smiler said.

"No injuries, city man. We've paid the woman for her information."

"It's okay, trust me, Warren. If all goes well, then tomorrow will be a piece of cake."

"I've got a driver, and," he pointed a finger at Smiler, "he has orders to shoot if you try to escape."

During the journey to the informant's house, Smiler looked out at the landscape with disdain.

In due course, they arrived at a large ramshackle farmhouse. With the explosive tubes carefully stowed in his jacket pocket, Smiler waited for the door to open. An ill-looking man appeared at first, followed by a young woman.

"Can I help you?" the woman said, pushing her father back a fraction.

"I need to speak to the silo worker. Is that you, miss?"

Her voice lowered. "Yes, that's me."

"I'm from the Protectorate fraud investigation department in Dredge. I think it best if we go somewhere private."

"Oh," she said. She swallowed and glanced at her father and her younger sisters, who had crowded into the doorway. "It's okay, pa, something to do with work. Go inside, we'll walk 'round to the yard."

Following behind her, Smiler admired her swaying hips. Wearing a blouse, dark slacks, and flat shoes, she had not changed out of her office clothing. As they entered a large barn at the rear, Smiler's minder stood to one side.

After glancing across the barn, Smiler wrinkled his nose at the smell of manure.

"This will do, we can't be heard from the house. What do you want?" she said.

"I know you have been passing secret information to the protectorate for credits."

Blood drained from her face.

"I don't want to take you to the militia HQ, but," Smiler continued, "If you do me a favour, I will be able to smooth things over, so there is no trouble."

"What sort of favour?"

"What is your job, precisely?"

"Security and maintenance."

Wiping his hair strands over the top of his head, Smiler squinted his eyes in thought. "Involved in perimeter security?"

"When it needs maintenance or repair."

"So, you can make a bot act erratically to fool security? Or even better, request power to be turned off for maintenance?"

"My supervisor has to authorise it."

"You are going to have to do something to ensure he gives the authority tomorrow. Perhaps, show him your tits."

"I can't do that," she said, her face flushing in embarrassment.

He grabbed the front of her blouse and twisted it with his fist. The driver gasped in surprise.

"This is what you are going to do, no questions asked. Tomorrow, when you receive a personal message, you will do whatever is required to shut down a particular section of the perimeter fence. It would also be nice if you could slow the security response," he said through closed teeth.

Continuing to grasp her blouse, he shoved his other hand into her crotch, his fingers squeezing through the fabric of the trousers. The woman stiffened in shock.

He locked eyes with her and continued to grope her, finally pushing her back against a wall.

She put her hands to her chest. "I won't do it, you can't threaten me. As soon as you have gone, I'll call our security chief," she said, trying to sound confident.

"Really? And tell him about how you send protected information outside the silo?" He examined the interior of the barn again. His gaze rested on a large round tub. "What is that?"

"It's a fertiliser-making machine," the driver said, to break the tension.

Smiler took out the explosive tubes and tossed them into the vat. Air bubbles popped as the tubes glugged to the bottom of the fermenting liquid.

"Explosive and fertiliser, a deadly mix. What say your family are in here tomorrow? Working the farm, up to their ears in cow shit. Old father with his creaking joints checks on his latest batch and boom, it goes up. Take him, your family, the whole barn, and buildings in one go, poof."

He produced a small square box and pressed a green button. "There, the explosive is primed." He pointed to a red button under a see-through cap, "You do not want me to press this. There can be no failure in your task."

Defeated, the woman rubbed her arms.

"You could spend all night trying to find the explosives, but I have my spies watching. If you don't do what I ask, then I'll come back. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"So, we have a bargain. If it goes well, I will deactivate the explosive."

The woman nodded reluctantly.

"Thank you, miss, enjoy the rest of the evening with your lovely family."

Smiler walked into the house via the rear kitchen door. He explained to the family that all was well and made small talk with the woman's father and sisters. Finally, he shook the father's hand and winked at the woman.

On the return journey, the driver said only one thing. "You city folk have a different way of handling things."

Smiler did not reply; instead, he watched the dark landscape with an air of smug confidence.

### Chapter 9

"Nothing showing on the scanners. I've set up auto warnings, in case anyone strays into your area. We'll be monitoring throughout the night." Scrivvens voice sounded in Brell's ear.

"Thanks," Brell said into her bracelet.

She pulled the thin blanket across her legs whilst watching the sun in its last throes of setting. Muted orange tints shone through the clouds. Crops rustled in the light wind.

After a basic meal, she had sat outside to watch the sunset. She found a small power lantern and set it on the table in between the chairs.

Katey appeared. "Be back in a sec," she said, disappearing into the crop field.

Brell watched Katey spread out her hands and brush the stalks of the unknown crop.

"Sitting down for a minute?" Brell said on Katey's return.

"Yup, just enjoying the smell and feel of the fields."

"A farm girl at heart?"

"There is something about earth, plants, and wide-open spaces."

"Want one?" Brell said, offering her a weed smoke.

"No, I'm okay."

"This Kaznac stuff is shit." She blew out a plume of smoke.

"Want a brew?" Katey said.

"Yes, a strong one."

Katey returned with two cups of steaming bean concoction, sat down, and peered into the distance.

"You know it was all going well, getting transport for the Locardum," Katey said, leaning forward a fraction. "After verifying my identity at the silo, I flew to Dredge and found a freighter crew, near the space docks. They seemed honest enough. The captain suggested we go to the Half Angel to eat and drink at my expense." Shaking her head, she sipped at her brew.

Brell finished her smoke and remained quiet. The lantern shone on one side of Katey's face as she talked.

"Youngest crew member couldn't hold his beer, got drunk and punchy, the next thing he's rolling on the floor with a local. A melee ensued as other drinkers pitched in. I got involved to keep up my manly appearance, but they were too strong for me. It turned nasty, with bottles being used as weapons. One man died. He happened to be the landlord's cousin. The militia arrived and they tied us up."

"Arrested? Did you go to a court?" Brell said.

"Non-Association rules. The landlord's judge brother, walked in and sentenced us to death for murder. They took our blood identity, which in my case showed an off-worlder without a record on Kaznac. We were turned over to the landlord to work as slaves, pending our execution date, if still alive by then."

"Bloody hell."

"After securing our neck bands, the militia left and the four of us were lined up in the landlord's office and told to strip. One man refused. He was beaten with a cudgel and dragged out into the backyard. Never saw him again."

Holding the chair arm, Brell tensed in anticipation of the developing account.

"I took off my shirt and the landlord's eyes went to my undervest. Next thing he told his lackeys to take out the remaining men, hose them down, and put them to work. The landlord examined me, keeping his distance. I'll never forget his sniggering and bulging eyes when I took everything off. I had no choice. 'A woman,' he said, 'dressed as a man. I like that.' He struck me on the back of the head with his cudgel until I was dazed and powerless. He pushed me over his table and took my virginity there and then."

Brell extended her arm and rubbed Katey's back for a few seconds.

"I worked in the bar and made myself useful by fixing ancient equipment and sorting out pipe blockages in the beer pumps. Food was easy to steal. I was regularly called into the landlord's office for, you know, further punishment. He had a control box to hand, which would explode my neckband if I refused anything. As soon as another woman arrived, I received my execution date. That's when I managed to send you that message."

"Must say, a complete surprise, I nearly deleted it straight away. But here we are. You're a strong woman, Katey, but it will have changed you whether you realise it or not. What you have been through, many people would have set off their explosive neck bands."

"A few did; they ran out of the gate."

Brell lit another smoke tube.

"I've been dishonoured, brutally. I cannot let go of those feelings. My maidenhood went along with my vows of chastity. No man will touch me now, not in my community."

"Your farmer's faith, religion, or codes? Do elders forgive past troubles?"

"There is a ceremony of forgiveness. Often used on husbands and wives who stray with farmhands."

"That is something. Look, my life has been a mess of broken relationships, one-night stands, intox, and drug benders. I was sent to prison for something which I try not to dwell on. But all things must pass, a friend once told me. When you meet the right person, which I did, they will forgive and understand." She put an arm around Katey's shoulders for a moment.

"Do you get lonely, Brell?" Katey said, studying Brell's face.

Brell raised her eyebrows, "Now, that is a question."

"Sorry."

"No, it's okay. I was disowned by my old colleagues when I was sent to prison. I've never known my father; my mother is a drunken waster, and I have no brothers or sisters. But I have some cargo piloting friends, Lottie, and no idea why, but Brune and Scrivvens stuck by me. But I do miss Gorst; for all the crap I threw at him, he stayed with me. How about yourself?"

"No siblings. Been on my own much of my adult life. Space Corps was great, made a lot of friends, but I had to give it up. Mother's orders. The Tinker's gang that I was in did many violent things, which I don't want to talk about. But there was a camaraderie amongst us. I miss that."

"Working closely with the men has certainly helped with your makeover."

Katey sat back and grinned. "Try sleeping on the floor next to them before doing one of the Tinker's early morning jobs. Talk about belching, farting, scratching, and the other thing men do."

"Well, we are ladies. When we do our thing, it is performed with flair and refinement," Brell said, unable to stop herself burping.

They both laughed.

Brell wiped her eyes, "Still want to kill me?"

"No. You saved my arse, I think that deserves a reprise. But don't tell my mother. I'll never be able to tell her I slept in a bed with another woman. That would be enough for apoplexy. If I told her it was you, it would send her over the edge."

"And you have a local girlfriend who loves you," Brell said, putting a hand to her heart. "We could stay for Jabe's wedding, you could rekindle your romance, it would be fun."

"Thanks for that. But I'll give the wedding a miss."

"Fair enough." Brell looked out over the fields. "Getting late. Big day tomorrow. She stood up. "Let's get this thing done, Katey, and go home. I'll take first watch, you get some sleep on that lovely clean mattress."

"Can I take the light?"

"Of course, there's a spare one inside."

She passed the blanket to Katey as she settled herself on the mattress. Turning the lantern to its lowest setting, she set it on the ground nearby. She placed a chair inside the open doorway and laid her pistol over her knees. The crops rustled in the light breeze across the darkened fields.

### Chapter 10

Katey woke in the early hours with a start, frantically looking around the shed.

"It's okay, we're good," Brell said, appearing in the dark gloom.

"You've got a couple of hours yet."

Sitting up, Katey said, "Feel okay." She yawned. "You get a quick nap, I'll take over."

Before Brell could protest, Katey got up, put on her jacket, and took out her laser. "Go on, I've got this, I'll check in with Scrivvens."

Without waiting, Brell lay down on the warm mattress and promptly fell asleep.

" _Pearl_ , Katey here, taking up the watch. Any reports?"

"Hi, Katey, fields and surroundings all clear," Scrivvens said.

"Good, thank you. Out."

Two hours later, Katey woke Brell with a strong bean brew and oat porridge. Together, they sat outside, eating breakfast admiring the morning sun glittering off the crops. The air was fresh and reviving.

"Could get used to this," Brell said.

"There is something about it which I miss," Katey said. "If I closed my eyes and opened them, I could be back home on the family farm."

After tidying up, both women got ready for their journey to the silo. Thankfully, Jabe did not arrive by the time they took off.

Taking it steady, Brell flew in a wide arc around the silo, examining the land underneath. "Hang on, circling back. Down there, those vehicles anything to worry about?"

Craning her neck, Katey examined the scene. Four huge transporter trucks travelled in line behind two smaller, enclosed vehicles. Their wheel-based track marks ploughed up the dirt road. With steady movements, Brell tilted the craft so they could take another look.

"Not too unusual," Katey said. "Probably delivering seeds or farm equipment or picking up grain."

"Weight?"

"Those trucks have weight dispersal technology and special suspension."

"Nothing we can do about it, let's get to the silo."

Before leaving the zoomer, Brell talked to Scrivvens. "We are about to enter the silo. Can you keep an eye on a line of large trucks nearby? We think they are delivering farm equipment, but we're not so sure." She nodded to Katey. "Also, place us all on a common channel until we've finished."

" _Done_ ," Scrivvens said.

"Lottie, maintain a steady position, ready to descend, await our signal."

" _Understood_ ," Lottie said.

"Okay, everyone, we are getting out of our zoomer. Have to leave our weapons inside. Signals won't work underground."

To a passer-by on ground level, the silo appeared to be a large area of grassland surrounded by a fine mesh fence. The mesh consisted of enlivened laser threads strung between a series of tall, thin posts. There was no inkling of the riches deposited within the secure silos. Plus, there was a network of offices and hidden security defences.

Two grey poles marked the entrance. As they approached, a holographic welcome sign popped up, followed by a slim pole with a button on its top. The sign stated, "Press to enter."

Brell swept her gaze around the area. She could not see any devices, but knew they were being scanned by a machine or person deep underground.

Beeping noises started as a small square of earth, attached to a hatch, flipped back. A set of stairs were revealed, which led down to an elevator.

They stepped out into a clerk's office. At odds with general décor on Kaznac, this was a high-end Association-style glass and marble creation. Visitors faced a small counter with a blacked-out window. A walk-in booth was positioned inside an alcove.

As the window faded from grey to see through, a male clerk appeared, sitting behind the counter. Wearing a light blue uniform, he was of an age where nothing surprised him.

"Welcome, may I help you, sir?" His voice was as grey as his skin.

Katey stepped forward. "I was here yesterday and wish to open my silo. I am booked in for ten this morning."

"Please enter this booth, we will retake new scans and compare them with yesterdays. We re-check identity on all occasions."

Katey entered the semi-circular cubicle, placed her hands into a slot, opened her mouth and stared ahead. Fingerprint, blood, and saliva samples were taken together with a retina scan.

"Grisella Katey Montil-Perrwinken, madam." The clerk switched gender without a missed beat. "Your identity is re-verified. All in order. Your property is in silo 102, contained in three carts. Transporter craft identifying number please, otherwise security will deem it a threat."

Katey handed over a note containing the Lulu's details.

"You have been designated landing pad four." The clerk pressed a button on his screen. "Once the silo is opened, the carts will wheel themselves to that landing pad. All automated. Identify yourself at the silo screen to start the process. Thank you for using our services. Have a good day."

A side door opened leading to another elevator. This took them back up to the surface, but this time inside the fence. They jumped into a small passenger truck, which trundled off along on a pre-set route. It transported them around the landing pads, which were near the entrance, and then across to the far end of the site. To Brell, the area looked like barren grassland. Perfect camouflage.

"Silo 102," a voice said as the cart stopped.

As they stepped onto the ground, there was a pause and a beep and the cart drove off back to the main office.

Brell and Katey stared at each other as if to say, "What happens next?" Alone in what appeared to be a huge unkempt field, it appeared to be a joke. As if operated from someone monitoring remotely, a thin pole emerged from the ground a metre in front of them. A holo screen popped up.

"Welcome, Grisella Katey Montil-Perrwinken. To proceed, press start."

A green "start" button flashed.

She stared into an eye scanner and rubbed her thumb over a small window set in the side of the screen's pole. A final screen was displayed.

"Identity confirmed. Please press the button again to open the silos' contents. Have a good day."

"Ready?" Katey said, her shoulders relaxing. "I've thought about this moment for a long time."

She pressed the button.

A low rumble under their feet was followed by a large semicircular safety barrier popping out of the ground. Dusty earth vibrated off the top rail.

"Safety is our priority," Brell said, leaning onto the rail.

More vibrations were followed by a long split appearing in the earth. The gap widened as the underground door heaved open, supported on heavy pistons. In the darkness of the silo, lights blinked on. More hissing sounds followed as a ramp unfolded itself from below. Its last segment flipped onto the outside ground.

Low sirens sounded, warning lights rotated, and a low engine noise rumbled.

Mesmerised, both women watched, open-mouthed, as the lead motorised cart chugged up the ramp into the open air. With its high metallic sides and ten-metre length, it took four wide wheels each side to take the weight of its contents.

The Locardum, the long sought-after ore, could be seen heaped inside. Considering its value and importance, it did not look particularly attractive. Trundling along on its pre-programmed route, the trucks headed towards landing pad four.

"Fuck me," Brell said. It was all she could think to say.

Katey kept shaking her head. "Unbelievable."

Soon, the three carts were clear of the silo door, which started its closing procedures. By sight, Brell knew the trucks would easily fit inside the Lulu's cargo hold, with room between for safety.

"Brell, I presume from your reaction the ore has been released?" Scrivvens voice interrupted the moment.

"Yes," Brell said into her bracelet; she was still coping with the sight.

Katey wiped her eyes and turned to Brell. They shook hands and slapped each other's shoulders.

"Come on," Brell said following the trucks. "Lottie, you can start a slow descent. You must use landing pad four, the end one nearest the fence. It will take a while for our trucks to arrive there."

" _Wilco_ ," Lottie said.

"Wilco?" Brell said.

"An old Space Corps expression, it's also been used on _Plundering Pirates_ ," Katey said, smiling. "' _Will comply'_ is the full expression."

"Bloody Plundering bloody Pirates," Brell said.

Ambling along, she wondered what other treasures were stored underneath their feet.

"Brell, Katey standby," Scrivvens voice cut in, his voice urgent. "Picking up two craft flying directly towards the silo."

Brell put her hand in the air to ensure Katey had heard the message. Her face changed from joy to concern.

" _Run, get away from the ore, swooping in, ten seconds. Lottie,_ _ascend_ _immediately_ ," Scrivvens said in a determined voice.

Without pausing, Brell ran sideways, pulling Katey with her. They both sprinted.

" _Five seconds_."

Brell looked up. Two black objects, becoming larger by the second, appeared in the sky. No doubt about the speed and its target.

Instinctively, both women hit the ground, placing their arms over their heads.

Within a second, several gun turrets protruded above ground. Laser tipped missiles were fired at the two swooping craft, to a crescendo of deep booms. Brell glanced up from under her arm. One craft's wing disintegrated as its remaining hull rotated and veered off away from the silo, out of view. The other craft, due to its more forward position, exploded into a million shards of glittering metal. Larger chunks fell to the ground outside the perimeter fence.

"Who were they? No one could have survived that."

"They came in from the outer atmosphere, a straight route towards your position."

"Were they after us?" Katey said. "It was like a bombing run."

"Just replayed it. You're right. The bomb doors underneath were open when they were fired at. A bomb strike. On you, Katey, and the Locardum."

"My heart is thumping. You okay, Katey?"

"Yup".

"Come on," Brell said walking at a faster pace. "Lottie, land the _Lulu_ , face north, keep engines on tick over."

" _Wilco_."

"Scrivvens, we are back on, the ore is intact."

"Don't want to worry you, but your truck convoy, they are on the move, driving towards the silo."

### Chapter 11

"Keep up the commentary, Scrivvens," Brell said.

They both walked with more urgency, wishing the trucks could double their speed.

"Yes, they are definitely making for the silo. Driving towards the landing pads."

"Lottie, open cargo rear door as soon as you are down."

"Copy that."

On any other day, Brell would enjoy the view of the _Lulu_ descending out of a clear blue sky. But at this moment, she could taste the growing tension. She feared the slow-moving ore trucks will not make it to the _Lulu_ in time.

Seconds passed.

"Lead vehicle is two hundred metres from the perimeter. Must be scoping you, they know exactly where to go."

Helpless, all Katey and Brell could do was walk beside the trucks.

Descending gradually, the Lulu's bulk loomed above them. The freighter rotated before its landing struts took the weight. The cargo ramp opened, upon which the silo trucks adjusted their route.

Brell glanced to the side. The vehicles were within view beyond the fence.

"No perimeter defences for objects outside, I presume," Scrivvens said. "Lead vehicle has pulled to one side, the trucks have stopped."

"Lottie, get our weapons. Katey, come on."

Overtaking the ore trucks, they ran towards the Lulu's cockpit.

"Vehicle door is opening, three people getting out. They are levelling their weapons. Brell, one of them is Smiler," Scrivvens said.

Hearing his name made Brell run faster.

" _He's waiting for something_ ," Scrivvens said.

A loud fizz sounded from the fence mechanism and a siren blared. Chunky shaped grenades were tossed over the fence, which burst open on hitting the ground. Clouds of white smoke billowed out.

As Brell approached the rear of the _Lulu_ , shots zipped in her direction. Bending her head, she continued, Katey at her side. She heard shots pinging off the Lulu's outer hull. They stopped on seeing Lottie running towards them holding two rifles.

"Lottie get back to the controls, listen out for us. Leave the cargo and cockpit doors open."

"Boss," Lottie said.

"Come on." Brell motioned to Katey, who needed no telling.

"Three trucks have been turned around and are lowering ramps, ready to accept an ore _t_ ruck each. Cable winches are being unwound to pull up each truck, I guess. They must have breached the fence. No security is present, _" Scrivvens said._

On glancing around the corner of the _Lulu_ 's hold, Brell's shoulders slumped. The ore trucks had changed direction. The rear truck was disappearing into the middle of the white smoke.

She fired off to the side of the carts, only to receive back a barrage of shots. Katey bent down and, with rifle ready, ran out and positioned herself behind the last truck. Brell followed.

At a walking pace, they fired short bursts along the side of the truck and ducked back in. The trucks continued moving towards the fence, metre by metre. Brell knew if they just kept walking, they would end up being surrounded by Smiler's men.

" _First ore truck has appeared through the smoke, outside of the perimeter,_ " Scrivvens said.

"Keep firing," Katey said an intensity on her face.

Brell poked herself out from the side and again let off a few rounds. The trucks stopped moving. "Have we hit something?"

Scrivvens continued his commentary. "No. There's a pause whilst the lead _truck is uncoupled. It's being pulled up onto a transporter_."

"Frag it, Katey, we can't stop this," Brell said, before Scrivvens could continue.

Without answering, Katey fired again and disappeared forward into the smoke.

Brell followed, her free hand trailing along the side of the ore truck.

Katey stopped in front of her. "So near, they are not taking it off us."

The second truck ahead of them lurched forward as the cable winches took hold.

"They will have to uncouple this one," Brell said in a low voice pointing to the large joint connecting both carts.

A sudden burst of weapon fire ricocheted off the side of the second truck, making them hunch behind it for a moment. Brell nodded and they both peered around the side.

A male dressed in farm clothing suddenly appeared through the smoke. Katey leaned out and shot at him, hitting his arm. He jumped back. After a series of shouts and commands, the trucks started moving again.

"They're pulling the carts further outside before uncoupling," Brell said. "We will be exposed soon. We're by the fence."

Fine meshed strands lay on the ground, hanging from the post. Inert, no energy ran through the structure.

"Pull back," Brell said, tugging at Katey's jacket sleeve.

Instead, Katey darted forward and wide and fired through the gaping fence. Bullets zipped back. Brell heard Katey gasp, stumble and fall onto the ground. She put a hand to a growing red stain appearing on her shredded trousers. Shots pitted the ground and her arm jerked to one side.

Katey gritted her teeth and brought her bloody hand up. Though only able to manage a light grasp of the weapon, she angled the muzzle upwards and pulled the trigger.

Brell ran forward and grabbed the neck of Katey's jacket. With effort, she pulled her body along the grass. Katey pushed with her feet and together they managed to take shelter behind the final truck. Though it was rolling over the fence towards the men on the other side, it provided temporary protection.

Brell helped Katey to her feet, bent over and held her hands behind her. Without being told, Katey jumped onto Brell's back.

Brell dropped her rifle, grabbed Katey's knees rather than her thighs, and made off towards the Lulu's cargo hold. Bullets and laser fire zipped by, but then stopped. She sat Katey inside the safety of the hold and glanced back outside.

" _Last truck being winched up_ ," Scrivvens said.

As the white smoke dissipated and swirled across the void between Brell and the trucks, she saw Smiler in a moment of clear air. He was unmistakable by the pompous way he stood and shouted orders.

She seized Katey's rifle. Unable to take her eyes off him, she raised the weapon and fired. The bolt pinged off the side of a truck. Alerted by the missed shot, he looked in her direction. Grinning in recognition, he waved and blew her a kiss. Smoke trailed across and he had gone. With a vain hope of success, she emptied the rifles ammunition.

" _All loaded_ ," Scrivvens said, "Move _out, Brell, in case they attack the_ _Lulu_."

"Yes," Brell said aloud. "Lottie, wind up the engines. I'm bringing Katey round, she's been hit. Start closing the hold."

Supporting Katey again on her back, Brell staggered along the side of the _Lulu_ towards the cockpit, cursing the length of the craft.

As soon as they were inside, Lottie accelerated the sub engines whilst pulsing the main ones. They made it to the outer atmosphere.

Below them, the Locardum trucks trundled off in convoy across the farmlands.

### Chapter 12

Brell wiped her hands and fetched a medical kit as Katey tried to unfasten her blood-soaked trousers, but her fingers shook too much. Returning, Brell proceeded to take off Katey's boots.

"Move your hands out of the way, Katey," Brell said grasping a pair of laser-tipped scissors.

Starting from the bottom of the leg, she cut upwards through the fabric and trouser belt. With Katey's help, they peeled the material off to reveal the wounds. It was a typical slash injury from a type of scatter gun. She gave Katey a wad of antiseptic padding.

"Press down hard."

Brell cut the other leg off and as Katey shifted her backside, she pulled off all the trouser material.

She examined Katey's legs.

"Some small nicks on your calf. Your arm?" She nodded towards the shredded sleeve.

"Not sure."

"Your thigh wounds may be deep. Hold on."

Leaving the red-soaked wadding in place, Brell wrapped a basic bandage over the wound. "Lay on the bed in my cabin. I'll get Lottie to look you over, give you pain relief, and dress your wounds properly. She'll do a better job than me."

A while later, after sprays, foam, and stitch fabrics were applied, Lottie activated an electric bandage. "All done, courtesy of Nurse Ludwig," Lottie said winking at Katey, who had her hands placed behind her head.

Katey smiled at the reference to the _Plundering Pirates_ character. "Thanks."

"Have a wash in the bathroom. Spare clothes in the cupboard. I'll see what the boss is up to."

Brell sat in the pilot's seat, holding a steady course in the upper atmosphere. She was deep in conversation with Scrivvens.

"Delta is monitoring the truck convoy. It's making its way to a land train station."

"It's being moved further into the protectorate," Brell said.

"One of the pilots managed to eject. They are inside their safety bubble, but not moving, may not have survived. What's left of their craft is a short distance from the silo in the middle of farmland, no one nearby."

"Standby, Scrivvens. Lottie what are Katey's injuries?" Brell said in a loud voice towards the cabin.

"Thigh wound, not serious. Painful, but will heal. Other wounds all fixed up."

"Good. Lottie, we're going back down to check on the bomber pilot. Prepare for descent and tell Katey what's happening."

"The craft may have bombs inside, be careful," Scrivvens said.

"Descending now, keeping open comms," Brell said.

"With you, will monitor the area _._ "

From her point of view as she steered the _Lulu_ to the crash site, Brell saw a long rut of disturbed crops and earth where the craft had slid before stopping. To one side, a white, cocoon-like bubble lay dormant, surrounded by crops.

"Apologies, Mr and Mrs Farmer, we're going to destroy your precious fields."

Bringing down the _Lulu_ a safe distance from the craft, she shut down the engines. She grabbed a medical kit and a rifle and went in to see Katey. "I'm going to see who that fucker was who bombed us."

"I'll follow you out. Give some cover. You go ahead."

"We only have two of the Lulu's lightweight rifles left. Lottie has her Police Corps-issue laser pistol. You can stay here if you like."

"No. I'll be along."

"Okay, take it easy, don't re-open that wound." Brell passed over a rifle.

Outside, Brell and Lottie pushed the long crop stalks out of their way as they beat a path towards the downed pilot. They easily found the white bubble. Its fabric, colour, and shape were at odds with its surroundings. It formed a safety skin instantly when the pilot ejected, to soften his landing.

Lottie cut a hole into the material and Brell peered inside.

"Male, not moving..." she felt his neck, "alive." She sounded surprised. "Let's get this off him."

Together, they removed the fabric to reveal the man was still strapped in his seat. Examining him from head to boots, Brell could not see any blood or major trauma. Hearing the crops rustling behind, they saw Katey limping along, using a broom handle Lottie had obtained for her.

"Katey, cover us, going to release him."

Stepping to one side, Katey raised her rifle as Brell uncoupled the restraints. The pilot was in his mid-twenties with a youthful face, short hair, and square jaw. Wearing a tight-fitting black jumpsuit, he remained limp.

"Doesn't look like a local," Katey said. "Short hair, athletic. His pilot's suit suitable for deep space journeys rather than Non-Assoc Kaznac."

"I think we should take him back to the _Lulu_ , we need to find out about this attempt on our lives," Brell said. "Lottie, can you get two hold bots to bring cargo strapping, and pull him on board?"

"Right," Lottie disappeared back through the crops.

"What do you think?" Brell said.

"Did I hear that the remains of the craft are nearby?" Katey said

"Yes, bombs may still be in place. I would like to look at it, reserve judgement until then. Are you up for it?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you know what I'm thinking?"

"Professional assassin. Ex-Space Corps?"

"Yes. Let's examine the craft."

"Copy that," Scrivvens said.

A short while later, Lottie arrived, followed by two of the four cargo hold utility bots. Like small barrels on wheeled tank tracks, they could extend their bodies upwards and utilise various arms and pincers. Used for repairs, heavy winching, and work inside the hold. Lottie had named them Gertie and Bertie.

"I'm not going to muck about here," Brell said, tying shorter restraints around the pilot's wrists and ankles. A longer strap was placed about his shoulders and attached to the bots.

"Lottie pull him back inside the _Lulu_ , stick him in the cabin, keep him alive, but don't trust him, he could be dangerous. We're going to examine the wreckage. Scrivvens, is it clear?"

"Yes, but don't hang about. There are farm buildings a way off and a group of workers have gathered in the middle of the farmyard. Obviously interested in the crash."

After a two hundred metre hike through the tall crops, which Brell realised was making her nose itch, they found the wreckage. A large, jagged hole had been wrenched out of the side of the cockpit. Its inner cabin was exposed, revealing metal struts, burst instruments, and crumpled flooring. Leaking lubricants dripped onto fizzing laser couplings. A section of undercarriage was in pieces with two round black objects laying side by side. Acrid smells of broken plasma cells greeted them.

"No one else inside," Brell said, examining the interior. "Looks like the bombs are still intact." She saw Katey's expression change. "What do you see?"

"Let me check something."

With Brell's help, Katey scrambled into the craft. Studying an unassuming part of the interior wall, she leant down and rubbed a thumb along its surface. A crack appeared above where she made the gesture. Raising an eyebrow at Brell, she lifted the hatch to reveal a compartment containing an assortment of equipment and weapons.

"Undercover Space Corps craft. Definitely."

"Shit, look at that. Two neatly stowed assault rifles and a belt of grenades."

"Standard issue, short stock version, high impact," Katey said, taking one out and passing it to Brell.

In their efforts to reach the compartment, the hull tilted and the two bombs rolled a fraction and clanked into each other.

"Vehicles have left farmyard, speeding to the _Lulu_ ," Scrivvens announced.

"Let's get out of here, take as much as we can, and blow it."

Grabbing the weapons, a medical kit, and high-energy nutrients, they walked a few metres away from the wreck.

Katey manipulated one of the grenades and tossed it into the cabin. "Five minutes," she said.

Picking up the pace, Brell called out to Lottie. "Get ready for quick take off."

" _Roger_."

Katey could not keep up with Brell, who stopped to wait for her.

"Lean into me."

Without waiting, Katey threw the broom handle away and put an arm round Brell's waist, who in turn grabbed a handful of jumpsuit. By putting weight on her right leg, Katey hopped with her left foot as needed, but together they made a faster pace through the crops.

"Vehicle approaching the _Lulu_ ," Scrivvens said.

"Can see them," Lottie said. "Brell, coming to you."

Brell stopped and, breathing hard, turned right, and headed into fresh crops, knowing that Lottie would spot their trail.

The _Lulu_ 's engines roared. Taking the freighter to a height of twenty metres, Lottie turned the craft on its axis in a half circle. By overpowering the engines, she forced the vehicle drivers to hesitate for fear of being burned. With gentle acceleration, she spun the _Lulu_ and headed for a safe point ahead of Brell. As the cockpit door slid open, wind whistled inside. She brought the _Lulu_ down and waited. Soon, there was a clanking of footsteps. Brell pushed Katey through first, followed by their newly-found equipment.

"I'm in, go, go," Brell said.

Brell stayed on the floor next to Katey. She faced the windscreen and watched the light changing as they ascended. Once a dark blue shimmer appeared, she said, "Okay, Lottie, level off for a moment."

Brell helped Katey onto a seat.

"Your grenade has gone boom boom," Scrivvens said. "It ignited the bombs which I think were obliteration bombs. All crops in a twenty-five-metre circle have disappeared around the wreckage. The farmers are okay, probably wondering what happened."

"Scrivvens, we need to dock, work out our next move," Brell said in between glugging a cup of water. "I'm too old for this shit."

"Well cousin, not too old to save my backside, again," Katey said, her hands feeling down her leg.

"So definitely Space Corps. They were going to vaporise us and the Locardum. Bastards. Has to be Mourge, the Police Corps Commissioner wanker. Frick fracking bastard. Where is our prisoner?"

"Secure," Lottie said, calling out.

Trussed up like a birthday present, the pilot was wrapped in bandages, his arms, and legs immovable. Only his head was uncovered. Asleep, he faced the wall, saliva dribbling from his lips.

"Thorough. Lottie, he's not going anywhere. Did you examine him?"

"Yes, a quick look over. Body shock, compressed spine, broken rib, concussion, nothing serious. He started coming around, so I injected him with a small sleep vapour until you returned."

"How long until we can dock with the _Pearl_?"

"An hour, bit tricky, space junk and foreign craft."

"Use all buoys and scanners, take your time, I'll assist you in a minute," Brell said.

"Wilco, boss."

"Katey, I'm going to throw some water on my face before assisting Lottie. Watch prince charming here for a moment until I get back. We've got a good auto chef in the galley. Help yourself to anything."

"Thanks."

With Brell calling out their position, Lottie skilfully piloted the _Lulu_ into a docking position with the _Pearl_. After minor adjustments, the doors aligned, and a satisfactory seal was made.

### Chapter 13

Scrivvens appeared first, followed by Delta.

"Katey," Scrivvens said, nodding.

Brell eyed Katey. "She's got that look on her face. The one that says, I nearly shot you," Brell said.

"It's true. At home, whilst my mother was showing you around the house," Katey said, sheepishly. "You were brought up on a farm, I believe."

"Yes. Galaxy-wise, not too far from your home planet."

"Well, perhaps on another day, we could swap farming stories."

"Look forward to it," Scrivvens said. "This is Delta, by the way."

"Hi."

"Appreciate we need to talk and debrief. Bloody hell, do we need to debrief, but I'll show you our prisoner first," Brell said.

As Lottie sat in the main pilot's seat, running engine routines, a pair of hands came around her back and cupped her breasts.

"Hello, plastic tits, how's it going?" Delta said.

"If it isn't my Delta Skelter, which space captain allowed you on board?" Lottie said.

She stood up and embraced Delta, whose hands wandered down and massaged Lottie's backside.

Brell scratched behind her neck, "Katey, you'll have to get used to their behaviour, eh, Scrivvens?"

Blushing, he went into Brell's cabin and examined the prisoner.

"Can we wake him up?"

"Yes, stimulant vapour, when Lottie is ready. Lottie, can you spare us a minute from your girlfriend?"

She promptly arrived with a canister in her hand and sprayed a fine mist into the pilot's nostrils.

Opening his eyes, he blinked several times to focus his vision. He licked his lips and let out a sound of discomfort. Brell and Katey stood at the end of the bed, watching proceedings.

Scrivvens leant forward. "Can you hear me?"

"Where am I?" the pilot said in a croaky voice.

"Who sent you on the bombing run?"

"Local militia from Dredge City."

"I'll ask again. Who sent you?"

He looked at Scrivvens. "From Dredge City, protectorate, they asked us to do it."

Scrivvens stood back with a smile as he knew what was coming.

A pistol muzzle was thrust into the pilot's cheek. "Ten seconds, Space Corps man, to tell us the truth," Brell said.

"I, err, no, I was hired by someone in Dredge City." The pilot flicked his head to stop sweat running into his eyes.

"Five seconds." Brell brushed the muzzle delicately across his cheek.

At the sight of a bald-headed woman with a flushed, grinning face, the pilot started spluttering. "Err, the, err, yes I'm Space Corps. Don't shoot."

"Okay then," she lowered her pistol, "talk."

"Just two of us pilots. Undercover craft adapted to carry bombs. We were told the target needed to be destroyed in the interests of Association security. They tried to make it look like a strike by another protectorate, so as not to involve Space Corps."

"Where did the orders come from?"

"We were briefed by Group Captain Cratcher. Specially picked for the mission."

"What is your sanction code for entering Non-Assoc airspace?" Katey said.

"How do you know about that?"

"The code." Brell pointed the pistol at him again.

"Alpha, five, gamma, three, seven, two, Elytia."

"Scrivvens?" Brell said.

"Yes, got it, hold on." He disappeared back into the _Pearl_.

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Well we are in space, so out of the airlock is one possibility," Brell said.

Breathing heavily, the pilot gazed between Brell and Katey.

Scrivvens returned and tapped Brell on the shoulder to join him in the cockpit.

"Restricted information. But I have a way of getting in." He raised his eyebrows. "It was assigned to an original request from the Police Corps Commissioner's office."

Brell sat down and put a hand over her face. Her first reaction of disbelief quickly turned to anger. "Confirms our belief. Bastard Mourge," she rubbed her chin. "Did you know about my little issues with him years ago?"

"I was aware," he said, trying not to look at Delta.

"He smacked a woman around when I was a younger officer, I got drunk and blabbed. Senior officers found out and he was moved. It put his promotion plans on hold for a while. He's never forgiven me for that. I would say he saw a neat way of taking out the Locardum and me at the same time."

Scrivvens placed a hand on Brell's shoulder. "When have you not been in the wars?"

"That's true. So why do you stick with me?"

He laughed. "Sometimes I do wonder. Anyway, when you are ready, we need to chew this over and decide what to do." He craned his neck to speak into the cabin. "Katey, how's your leg?"

"Painful."

"We'll get Lottie to look it over. You can send a message to your mother if you wish later. When you're done, come and join us in the _Pearl_."

Without any small talk, Scrivvens updated Brell on current events. "I'll tell Brune about our little discovery. He'll be very angry. He passed on my information about the silo and the pickup time to Mourge, as per instructions. We believed Mourge was arranging a safe escort from Space Corps."

"Scrivvens, it's not your fault. You are still bound by orders. It's best you talk to him, though. I'll just blow my top."

"You did well to get back in one piece."

"Bloody hell, it was a nightmare down there. And fragging Smiler is involved. I briefly saw him and shot at him, but I think I missed."

"No sign of any bodies left behind by the truck crews."

"Frackfuckers," Brell said. She stood up and paced across the cockpit, fingering her head scar. Squeezing the back of the pilot's chair, she stared at the control panel.

Katey poked her head around the doorway, saw Brell, and stopped.

"Brell, you are alive. We are all alive. We can report what's happened and get out of here. Return to our normal lives," Scrivvens said.

Brell fixed her gaze on Scrivvens. "Do you think I could do that? I won't be able to rest until Smiler is dead. Plus, he's in possession of three trucks of Locardum," Brell said.

"I know, we're back to the beginning. But knowing you as I do, you won't stop until this thing is done. Whatever you decide I'll be right with you. And so will Lottie and Delta," Scrivvens said.

"And so will I, cousin," Katey said.

Brell turned in surprise at Katey's voice.

"Legs been fixed up by nursey. Thought I'd join you."

Scrivvens motioned for Katey to sit next to him. Lottie came in with a tray of drinks. She offered one to Brell, who took it and squashed into a seat on the other side of Scrivvens.

He waited a moment before placing a reassuring hand on her back.

"I'll be okay in a minute. Just fed up, you know, we nearly had it," Brell said, wiping a hand over her scalp.

"How are you, Katey?" Scrivvens said.

"As fed up as Brell."

"So what's our decision?"

"We go after it," Brell said. "I cannot think of junior's safety until Smiler is out of the way. I won't risk everyone's lives for him. I promise. Jailhouse code of honour." She put a hand across her chest. "If the Locardum got into criminal hands, it would go against everything Gorst stood for."

"Katey?"

"The Locardum. All we've done is fight over it. Brell's told me about her partner. Bloody hell, I nearly killed you both. Originally, my uncle saw it as a way of funding the farm. Since the Tinker found out about its weapon properties, things have changed, it's a heavy weight around our family's necks. At least I have a pardon allowing me to return home, legitimately. I'm for finishing this business." Katey said.

"Well that didn't take much discussion or disagreement," Scrivvens said. "When we joined Police Corps or Space Corps," he nodded to Katey, "we all took an oath. I appreciate that both of you have taken other paths. But by the time we settled ourselves back home, the Locardum could have been split into a thousand small batches. We would never find it or stop its power. I couldn't live with the guilt of not having tried to grab the ore."

No one spoke for a moment.

"Speeches over, we know what we are saying. Let's get on with the job. But one thing Scrivvens, you're not jeopardising your career by stepping onto Kaznac. You stay here and direct events." Brell lightly punched Scrivvens on the arm.

"Okay. I know when it's not worth arguing with you."

He displayed an overhead view of a train shooting across a vast stretch of green fields. "The trucks were driven onto freighter bogeys on a land train. It is currently in transit, we have it on auto-follow."

"The Farmlands are huge. But it'll have to stop somewhere," Brell said.

"What about our pilot next door? Leave him tied up?" Scrivvens said.

"He's a fit Space Corps pilot, injuries are not too bad, he could be very useful, but we need him on our side," Brell said. "Katey, could you talk to him about your Space Corps days? Find out his name, at least."

"Sure. I'll go speak to him now."

***

"Hi, thought we could have a little chat," Katey said, sitting on the end of Brell's bed and looking at the pilot.

"Yes, sir," the pilot said, propping himself up on the pillows.

"Let's start with an easy one. What is your name?"

"Percy, sir."

"I'm a woman who has dressed like a man for safety reasons."

"Yes, sir."

"Percy, who was your instructor at Space Corps Academy?"

***

Twenty minutes later, she outlined her thoughts to Brell and Scrivvens. "Once he finally realised I was a woman, we had a good chat. His name is Percy, he's young in service and blindly follows orders. The perfect pilot to send on a potentially suicidal bombing mission. He is grateful for being saved. I told him he would have been hacked to death by the farmers."

Scrivvens glanced at Brell, "What do you think?"

"Blindly follows orders? Didn't he give the name of the senior officer who briefed him?"

"Group Captain Cratcher. Cratcher the scratcher, we used to call her," Katey said.

Rubbing her chin, Brell said, "Needs a bit of creativity. Scrivvens, can you pull up images of Cratcher? Lottie is going in."

A while later, Brell opened a screen in front of Percy.

"We have received a communication from Group Captain Cratcher. It's private. Press play when ready."

Percy's face dropped, suddenly serious, his hand shaking as he started the communication.

"Pilot officer. Your courage and determination in surviving the raid is to be admired. Unfortunately, we lost a colleague. But, there is work to be done. I am issuing new orders to you. I have given permission for Inspector Scrivvens and his team to use your skills in an upcoming raid. Ensign." She made a salute. "I know you will make the Corps proud. Signing off."

"Yes, ma'am," Percy said, in a loud voice, returning the salute.

Brell dropped her smile and walked back into the cabin. "Everything okay, was it a bollocking?"

"No, ma'am, I am to follow the orders of Inspector Scrivvens."

"Welcome aboard." Scrivvens swiftly entered the cabin. "Pilot, I expect you to uphold the values of the Corps and do everything I ask of you, is that clear?" Scrivvens said in a commanding voice.

"Yes, sir."

"Anything Brell or Katey asks you to do is the same as if the order came from me. And I would not argue with the bots if you want to stay in one piece."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You can start by having a wash, I only want clean officers on my watch."

"Yes, sir."

Scrivvens started loosening Percy's restraints. "I am placing a lot of trust on your shoulders. Now go and have a shower, Pilot."

"Yes, sir." With that, he got off the bed, stood up, forgetting his injuries for a moment, and shuffled awkwardly out towards the bathroom.

Once Percy was out of the way, they all crammed into the _Pearl_ to congratulate Lottie on a perfect performance as Group Captain Cratcher.

"Let's regroup in a while," Scrivvens said, staring at his screens. "The Locardum is still on the train. I'll update Brune, as well."

"I'll go and view my messages," Brell said, getting up.

***

She sat in her main pilot's chair on the _Lulu_ and viewed the latest images of her son. With a few months left before the birth, her feelings went from joy to panic. Millions of kilometres away, her baby was warm, safe, and growing exactly as required. All reports from the gestation team were positive.

She thought of how Gorst would have watched the same images from his office on Dorab if he was still alive and planning their future together. But, he had gone.

Soon, they would be committing themselves to a serious and risky mission. She scratched the back of her hand. If she was honest, she thrived on it. Giving up everything to care for junior filled her with more nerves and doubt than going after the ore.

To cheer herself up, she watched messages from her piloting friend Wanda. She was a well-built woman who usually had a weed smoke sticking out the corner of her mouth. Her daughter, Spinney, had begun her training in the Space Corps Cadets. Commodore Xadian, an elderly retired Space Corps officer, gave a speech to the cadets on their first day. He had saved Brell from Smiler a while back on Elytia. There were images of Spinney, in uniform, with other sixteen-year-olds taking piloting lessons. Wanda ended her message by saying how proud she was of Spinney and that her relationship with Wark, her boyfriend, was getting more serious.

Lottie gave Brell a cup of weak tea and sat down in the co-pilot's chair, having left Brell alone to view her messages.

"Wanda is still seeing Wark."

"What a pair. Do they fight and make up every night?" Lottie said, referring to the time when Brell told her about Wanda punching Wark in a pilot's bar.

"Probably. But as she says about herself, she needs a lot of lovin'."

"Okay otherwise?" Lottie said.

"Junior is growing well."

"And you?"

"I'm fine. Well apart from the fact that I'm pissed off, want a drink, and need to punch somebody."

### Chapter 14

Mourge walked slowly through the wood-panelled library of his private club, the Hyperion. This was his retreat from the pressures of the commissioner's office. Here, finally, he could take his rightful place amongst men of position and power.

With head held high, he gave a noble nod to a club member as he passed.

"Made it at last, then, Vandaros? After all those years?" the older man said.

Mourge smiled. "Yes, thanks." His face changed to a snarl.

His allotted private room, on the top floor, was finely decorated with original art. Ignoring the surroundings, he headed straight for the drinks cabinet. Sitting back on the bed, he grabbed a hand-held device and pressed a couple of buttons. A gallery of life-sized men, women, intersex, and non-standard people were displayed a few metres in front of him. He swiped through each page.

He sipped at his drink whilst contemplating the images. His finger hovered over a male bot momentarily before selecting a female bot with short black hair and light blue skin.

After inputting his club code to confirm his choice, he went in to the bathroom and showered. Re-appearing in a bathrobe, he checked his chronometer. As his guest would be arriving in fifteen minutes, he decided to rehearse his speech.

Displaying a small prompt screen from his personal comms cube, he walked around the room, speaking aloud. At times, he used a chopping motion with one hand to emphasize his words.

"On a Non-Association world on the edges of our galaxy, a deadly search has been playing out. The search for a containment of ore called Locardum. We found out a while ago that the ore can be used to create a handheld weapon which can vaporise people and property. In the wrong hands, death and carnage would be unleashed. However, my team and I have found the ore and destroyed it. Sadly, there were deaths involved. One of the dead is a Miss Sturlach, whom you may remember as a contestant on an entertainment show. I have ensured that the galaxy is secure and as your Police Corps commissioner, I will not shrink from making tough decisions. Good evening and stay safe."

Afterwards, he refilled his glass, and on hearing his guest knocking on the door, he pressed a green button on the side table.

The pleasure bot entered the room holding a small case. She fitted his selection well. "I am at your service for the next two hours; how may I provide pleasure? I have an assortment of equipment and tablets with me, if required."

Encouraged by the intoxicating effect of his drink, Mourge opened his bathrobe to reveal his naked body. "Strip slowly."

The bot stripped off all its clothes and folded them carefully onto a chair.

"Turn around and bend over."

Mourge started rubbing himself.

His eyes narrowed. "Legs apart."

An unwelcome sound from the bedside table brought him out of his revelry. His work comms cube glowed red. An urgent call. Even in his club, he could not get away from his duties.

He let out an exasperated breath. "Stand up, go into the bathroom and close the door."

Waiting until the bot had shut the door, he operated the cube and groaned on seeing Brune.

"Commander, what do you want?"

"Sir, I have an update regarding the Locardum, is it safe to speak?" Brune's voice sounded out into the room.

"Yes, audio only, I'm in a meeting. Tell me what I want to hear, commander," Mourge said, his voice rising in anticipation. He pulled the sides of his bathrobe back together.

"Unfortunately, there's been a problem with the Locardum pickup."

"That is not what I want to hear, commander," Mourge said. He stood up and started pacing around the room.

"It was, err ... snatched by armed locals. We believe an old associate of the Tinker has it now. The man who murdered Captain Ritsma."

"Armed locals?" Mourge kicked the side of the leisure bot's case, making it fall over.

"Also, there was a bombing raid, which failed; we believe another group of Kaznac locals were behind that."

Mourge hooked his hand under the bot's clothes and tipped them on the floor.

"Sturlach?"

"She survived, as did Miss Montil."

Mourge breathed in, "So you have failed me, commander."

"I, um, am just reporting events, sir."

"You have failed me," he said, raising his voice. He kicked out at a chair, toppling it over. "Your Inspector," he said loudly, "he's never been at his place of work, has he? In fact, I think he is mixed up in this business on Kaznac, helping Sturlach."

"Well I err..." Brune's voice bumbled on.

"He's there isn't he, commander? Non-Association as well, you know what that means?" Mourge said, shouting.

There was a long pause before Brune gave his reply. "Yes, sir, it was the only way to assist Miss Sturlach and get the job done."

"At last the truth is out, no more of your lies. Police Corps needed that ore, and it has gone. What are you going to do about it?"

Brune remained silent.

"Well I've had enough of your prevarication," Mourge said, breathing heavily; he almost hissed the words between his teeth. "You are demoted with immediate effect down to sergeant, consider yourself on leave until your new posting. The inspector will be disciplined at the very least for dereliction of duty, he won't have a job after that. Sturlach will be recalled to prison, where she belongs, and those robots destroyed. That is an end to that."

Jabbing the off button, he tossed the cube onto the bed, picked up a chair, and threw it across the room, smashing it against the wall. Pulling open the bot's case, he tipped its contents onto the floor. Devices of varying shape and size lay scattered at his feet. His cube glowed red again.

It was one of his aides, the female captain.

Running a hand through his hair and over his face, he tried to recompose himself.

"Captain?" he said, twiddling a long, curved device with his toe across the carpet.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir. An encrypted message from Space Corps," she said.

"Saying what?"

"I'll read it out. Space Corps bombing mission failed. Shot down by hidden defence cannons. No bombs dropped. Two pilots lost. End of message. That's all, sir."

"Fucking Space Corps. That blue bitch should be dead and the Locardum destroyed. I'll deal with it in the morning, captain," Mourge said, snapping off the link.

He paused and waited for the cube to glow again. It didn't, so he chucked it in a drawer. After downing another drink, he threw the empty glass at the wall. It landed dead centre on an art piece, shredding it into pieces.

He held a hand out onto the side table to steady himself against the intoxicating effect of his drink. Turning towards the bathroom door, he spoke loudly "Get out here."

The bot appeared.

"Were you listening?"

"No, sir. Privacy is our watchword," the bot said, maintaining its smile.

In a blur, he pulled at the bot's hair, then gripped its neck with both hands, making it stand on its toes.

"You are like a woman who tried to hurt my career."

The bot's eyes stared blankly back at Mourge. He lessened his grip.

"Sir, I am programmed to give a warning if I receive damage."

"Like this?" Mourge said, swinging his fist into the bot's stomach.

It took the blow without any noticeable effect. Another punch landed on its jaw, its head jolting backwards

"Is that too much damage? Fight me back, fight me back, you bitch, you prostitute." He flung his hands out to the side.

"Sir, I am not programmed to hurt a client, that can be arranged next time."

He pushed the bot face-first onto the bed. In doing so, his bathrobe fabric became caught on his hands. Ripping it off, he stood naked, his body sweating profusely. He clenched his teeth and breathed heavily.

"Get on your hands and knees."

In silence, the bot placed itself into position on the bed.

Picking up a bottle of intox, he took a long swig, then sloshed liquid back and forth along the bot's spine. He tipped the last of the dregs over the bot's head. With intox dripping off its body onto the bedsheets, the bot remained unmoved. Mourge grasped the bot's hair and yanked its head upwards.

"I can have you crushed into a small cube."

He pushed his face closer to hers.

"Do you know who I am?"

***

Brune sat in his study. He could see his wife's shadow in the hallway, where she hovered near to the door. A moment later she stepped inside the room and wiped her hands down her apron.

A Bermian like Brune, her wrinkled face was a picture of concern. "Drink?" she said.

He nodded. "Yes please, Gladys." Once she had left, he waited, then replayed Mourge's last communication. _You are demoted with immediate effect down to sergeant, consider yourself on leave until your new posting._

Gladys appeared with a cup of leaf tea. "I've added a stomach settler," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Okay, love?"

"All okay, just been a bit busy, you know how it is."

She patted his shoulder and left the room, her facial expression one of anxiety.

He watched her leave and went back to his message.

_Scrivvens, I have informed Commissioner Mourge about the ore being taken. He was not happy, as you may imagine. Also, and there is no subtle way to state this, you are being disciplined for dereliction of duty and I am being demoted. As for Brell..._

Pausing, he deleted the message. Instead, he opened an encrypted voice channel to the Pearl but pressed the cancel button before a link could be established.

He started again.

_Scrivvens, Mourge obviously unhappy with events. However, I'm leaving you to decide on what to do next. It is difficult to assist this far away. Whatever your decision, you will have my backing. If in doubt, return to an Assoc planet, where we can regroup. Best of luck. Commander S'Tr-Hert._

Sending it quickly, he closed his communicator.

Glancing around his study, his gaze fell on an image of himself receiving his commander's insignia. His stomach leapt on hearing Gladys in the kitchen; she was humming a favourite tune of hers.

He stood up and felt his legs wobble. With slow movements, he went out into the corridor. Gladys was preparing a meal, chopping vegetables, and smiling.

"Dearest, I have something to tell you."

***

Brell was eating in the galley when Scrivvens stepped into the doorway. "Two things. Mourge is unhappy, but Brune has left it with us to decide what to do."

"Mourge unhappy? What a shame. Have you told him that we've already made a decision?"

"The transmissions have been problematic, so I've held back from updating him."

"Fair enough."

"Also I've got an update on the trucks. The train pulled into a railway siding a while back. All the trucks were offloaded and the vehicles drove away in convoy, like before. They have just entered a large compound of farm buildings. It's dark, but our high spectrum camera is capturing everything."

Standing up, a sandwich still clenched in her teeth, Brell popped into her cabin. Katey looked up as Brell took the sandwich out of her mouth.

"We're on."

Leaving a bemused Percy behind, they joined Scrivvens in the _Pearl_ and examined the live images.

"The three ore trucks are still fully laden," Brell said.

"Strongly built farmstead laid out in a square shape, surrounded by crop fields. Main farm building at one end, with adjacent worker and storage buildings running down each side. A security hut by the front gate. One of Joppa's regional strongholds; it's not how his central base was described," Katey said.

"Smiler anywhere?"

"Could be that figure, judging from the way he is walking, dressed differently from the others."

They watched the activity for a while.

"We've got armed men, servants, a possible bunkhouse, and kitchens, as well as normal farming folk. Outlying areas are just crop fields," Katey said.

"Thoughts?"

"My instinct is to hit it early morning. Most people asleep and we are relying on them not being a trained cadre. May be some slackness in their security arrangements," Brell said.

"I agree," Katey said, nodding.

"We're only talking a few hours, are we in a fit state then? Honestly?" Scrivvens said.

Brell noticed Katey rubbing her left thigh, and Scrivvens's eyes showed exhaustion.

"As much as I like to go headlong into these things, we could wait for daylight and get an accurate picture of the place. Gain more intelligence first," Brell said.

Scrivvens looked at Katey.

"I'm all for a hitting them when they are not expecting it," she said. "But with our limited resources, we need to plan carefully. Build up our strength. One more day of rest will make a difference for Percy and me, if I'm honest."

"Let's take the risk and wait. Lottie and Delta can do all the monitoring and gather intelligence and record images for us during the night and sun up. I could do with some sleep. Speaking of which, who's going where?" Scrivvens said.

"I can sleep anywhere. Katey?" Brell said.

"I'm not sure."

"You have an injury, so should be on a bed." Brell studied Katey's reaction. "You take Scrivvens' cabin on your own. I can use my pilot's seat and Scrivvens the co-pilots chair."

"I'll get Lottie and Delta," Scrivvens said and stood up.

Brell leant over to Katey. "You okay with the sleeping arrangements?"

"Thanks, it suddenly hit me, that's all, being on my own again."

"I'll get Lottie to stay with you for a while, how's that?"

She put a thumb up as Delta and Lottie came in, ready for their briefing.

"Okay if we can squeeze in?" Scrivvens turned to Lottie and Delta. "We are going to discuss some aspects of the farmstead that we want you to monitor and image capture. From now until the morning. Okay, suggestions, please."

"Hold on, just thought of something," Brell said. "I think we should not send any communications. We cannot leak the location of the ore or what we are intending to do. That includes Brune and our families. We could record messages and transmit them at an appropriate time."

Nodding, Scrivvens said, "Yes I think we have to be tight-lipped, we can't pass on anything which may alert Space Corps or whoever."

They spent the next fifteen minutes discussing intelligence, ranging from the number of armed guards to feeding times. Scrivvens asked Lottie to prepare a sleeping mix for Percy, just in case he has second thoughts about his new mission.

Brell pulled Lottie to one side. "Can you settle Katey down tonight? Stay with her for a while?"

"Okay, Brell." She turned her head left and right to check if anyone was within earshot. "When it's quiet, I'm going to perform systems checks on the utility bots and send them an image of Smiler."

Brell's face became serious. "Thanks."

### Chapter 15

Smiler stood admiring the night sky with its distinct lack of flying craft. Standing in the courtyard of a set of farm buildings, he took a few deep breaths. The countryside air was invigorating compared to the stale smell inside the farm vehicle during his recent trip.

He rolled his eyes again at the tedium of that journey. Apart from having to piss out of the window, he had to sit next to the driver, who talked about his sheep. At one point he managed to sleep but was suddenly woken up by a slap across his face.

"Just received word. Joppa's apologised to the silo worker and her family and paid her off after she was sacked. It's good that you didn't set off those explosives."

"Against my better judgement. I presume the whole thing has been blamed on me?"

"Correct."

"Don't tell me, the big city man who fooled the protectorate chief and carried out the raid against his wishes."

"How did you know he'd say that? He also agreed not to collect rent from the silo for a year."

"Really? What's next? Free bread and turnips for all the members of the raid crew?"

"No, a free beer evening."

Smiler crossed his arms against the chill as a light wind blew through the farm. He watched the last of the ore trucks being pushed into a large storage building by a tractor. The men shook hands and talked loudly.

Smiler's driver walked up to him.

"I'm to look after you whilst you are here."

"My own personal guard, how lovely," Smiler said.

"You're to get a meal first, then it's to your room for the night. You can call your people tomorrow afternoon," his escort said, pulling at the rifle harness across his shoulder.

"Tomorrow afternoon?"

"Takes time to get the communication equipment. Don't worry, you'll be gone soon enough from here, city man."

Smiler shrugged.

He was taken into the kitchens and served a hot drink and meal. Staff and servants buzzed around, carrying out the men's orders, in particular, those with weapons. One woman smiled at him, to which he reciprocated with a wink. She blushed.

Before long, he was led to a small servant's room in the basement of the main farmhouse and locked inside. He sat on the bed and rubbed his face, feeling exhausted after the day's activities.

He lay back, letting his legs dangle over the side.

***

Within the warm environment of the _Pearl_ , Delta was capturing images of the roads surrounding the farmstead, when Lottie crept out of the cabin where Katey was sleeping. She looked over at Delta and pointed towards the _Lulu_.

Delta nodded.

Lottie first checked on Brell and Scrivvens, who were both asleep in the pilot and co-pilot's chairs. She gently placed Brell's hand back underneath her blanket and adjusted Scrivvens's pillow. Percy was sprawled across the bed, snoring.

She activated a small screen to check the Lulu's vital systems, which were working on full pelt with the additional people aboard. Their orbit was secure and there were no reports of any problems or suspicious vessels nearby.

Content, she went back into the _Pearl_ and sat next to Delta. Without speaking, they each placed an arm around each other's shoulders.

"Okay, honey?" Delta said.

"Katey is asleep now, I left a small light on for her and gave her some pain relief. The others are fine, systems and orbit are good. Anything happening?"

"Changeover of security patrols, but not much else. No activity in the surrounding area. Hear anything about tomorrow?"

"I'll be piloting the _Lulu_ , Brell told me. I wanted to be with her on the raid."

"She only trusts you in the pilot seat. I'll be hacking systems and backing up Brell on the farm. Have to leave Scrivv on his own," Delta said.

Lottie rubbed Delta's back. "You can look after yourself. You're a fighter when you need to be. But protect my Brell, though, that's an order."

"I will don't worry. When this is over, how about we arrange an overnighter?" Delta said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll look forward to that," Lottie said, smiling. "Right now, I need to do some robot things. Can you suggest names for Gertie and Bertie's partners? I'm going to check their systems and name them."

"How about Bump and Grind, Pocket and Rocket, Buff and Muff, Knob and Knocker? I could continue."

"I knew not to ask you. They will be called Frizzle and Mizzle."

"Good old Lottie, prim and proper on the outside, and a burning furnace on the inside."

Lottie tilted her head. "I have to keep up appearances."

"Honey, what would I do without you?"

"I'm sure you would manage, Delta. Now, do you want me to take over for a while? I've fully recharged."

"I'll check on Scrivv and top up my meter."

After Delta left, Lottie activated four screens. Connecting to each utility bot in the cargo hold, she sent them an image of Smiler together with instructions if they should spot him.

***

The next morning, Lottie woke up Brell first, as the bathroom would be free for her to use without feeling rushed. As soon as Brell was out of the shower, Lottie roused Scrivvens and Katey.

After breakfast, Scrivvens told Percy to have a wash, eat, sit in the main cabin, and relax.

"Yes, sir," he said.

Later in the early afternoon, Delta called out to Scrivvens. "They are erecting an apparatus of some sort," she said.

"Brell, Katey," Scrivvens said, leaning into the Lulu's doorway.

They hunkered in behind Delta and examined the live feed. Behind the farmhouse, a group of men could be seen unpacking sections of what looked like pre-fabricated metal poles. One man was in charge due to his continual pointing, reading of instructions, and interaction with the others. Within a brief period, a square base was built up in layers until a ladder was needed to place the last few segments. It gave the appearance of a metal spire. Finally, a wide cable was attached to a mount at the bottom of the apparatus and fed through a window into the main farmhouse. The men walked around and into the front of the building.

"Communications mast. Old school, but effective," Scrivvens said. "It could be for Smiler to contact the Tinker or another interested party. But why is the ore here? Why not in Joppa's stronghold?" Scrivvens said.

"Perhaps he wants to keep it at arm's length, especially if the Tinker is going to buy it. On middle ground, as it were," Katey said.

"What will the Tinker do?"

"He won't come here personally; he'll send someone to examine the ore to ensure it is the real thing. Been too many false trails. The problem is afterwards. I would think a few of his gangs will be on standby to raid the place after the ore has been verified. We don't want to be there then," Katey said.

"I presume they won't take any prisoners?"

"From what you told me about Smiler, the Tinker is bound to be enraged he gained the ore. The farmstead and all the people will be obliterated."

"Flight times? Brell?"

"Needs a freighter roughly the size of the _Lulu_ , take at least a day's travel from Assoc. Plus, they need to organise their expert to validate the ore. So, a day and a half. But I presume," she tilted her head towards Katey, "the Tinker may have anticipated all this and had a craft on standby. He could have intelligence on our or Smiler's movements."

Katey nodded.

"The clock is ticking. We need to decide on our tactics. The raid is on," Scrivvens said.

***

The door to Smiler's room opened without warning. "The talking equipment is here," the voice said.

Grumbling, Smiler put on his trousers and got ready.

He followed the guard up the basement stairs. Two country hicks stood in front of a grand pair of wooden doors carrying rifles.

"Hello, guys," Smiler said.

"Erg," a reply came back.

"Was that a word, a grunt, or insult?" Smiler said.

"Erg?"

He turned to the other man. "Any chance of something to eat and drink and a quick check on the ore that I'll be selling for millions of credits for you?"

The guard mumbled and took him out through the doors and into a large square. Shielding his eyes at first, he examined his surroundings in daylight.

As he believed on arriving last night, the compound consisted of a strong set of buildings which was a working farm. To his right was the security bunkhouse with two floors of beds and armed men. On his left was the kitchen block containing a canteen for feeding all the staff and servants. Attached to the bunkhouse and kitchen was a row of tall storage sheds. With the main farmhouse at one end of a square, the two lines of buildings ran from it to complete three sides of the square. A security gate and hut ran across the far end.

Smiler nodded. It was certainly a stronghold in the middle of nowhere and difficult to find.

His guard jerked a thumb at him and he followed him into the kitchens. He saw a familiar woman bending over, examining the contents of an oven.

"What a beautiful sight," he said, clasping hands on her waist, his hips touching her backside. "It's my favourite serving girl from last night."

"Ooh, you are something else, mister...?"

"Call me Smiler," he said.

"Well, I'm Mabel," the woman said, standing up and turning around.

"What's in your oven today, then, Mabel?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Mabel said, brushing her hair from her eyes. She giggled, her plump body wobbled, and her ruddy face glowed with the heat.

"Big buns, I would think," Smiler said, staring at the woman's breasts.

"Well, you come back later, Mr Smiler, and we'll see what we've got, eh?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"If I can get rid of sonny boy here," he said, reaching forward, and sneaking a small warm cake from an oven tray. He winked as he took a bite.

She brushed her hair again and returned to her baking.

He helped himself to two more cakes and walked outside to the storage building. His guard followed at a discreet distance. On entering, he patted the side of each truck, trying to estimate its volume and value. He nodded at two guards sitting with rifles propped up against their chairs.

"Finished looking at your rocks, city man?"

Warren appeared, accompanied by four men. His clothes were unchanged since Smiler had first met him.

"City man? Are you ready to make your call?"

Ignoring his question, Smiler said, "Interesting how it ends up here in a shed in the middle of nowhere; what's Joppa afraid of?"

"Politics, my friend, politics. Doesn't want it near him, can't be blamed for breaking into the silo. That one is on you."

Smiler shrugged. "Did you find any more on those attack craft?"

"Locals saw a large freighter land nearby to a crash site. As the freighter took off, the wreckage exploded. The explosion ruined the crops, difficult to use that field for some time, will affect their next harvest."

"Whoever was involved could be on their way here," Smiler said.

"What, after our journey?"

Smiler balled his fists to stop himself making an outburst he would regret. "Was it the same freighter that we saw at the silo?"

"Not as far as we were told. The farmers were more worried about their damaged crops. We've been very careful. No one followed us," Warren said.

Smiler twisted his lips. "Let's hope so."

"We are men of the earth, with grit and determination. My men are more than up to the job," Warren said. The men behind him stiffened at his words and gripped their rifles.

"It's not a rabbit shoot, Warren. The people I used to work for use trained killers."

"Don't worry, city man. This place gives the appearance of a working farm, but we have some heavy ordnance hidden away. No one will take the rocks from us."

"This is a strong building; I like the shape, very contained. But what about outside, in the fields or in the sky? Do you have snipers?"

"What do you want, one of your Association scanners using invisible waves?" Warren said, grinning, and waving a hand in the air. It drew a laugh from his men.

"Okay," Smiler said, putting both his hands up. "May I at least suggest that a sample of the ore is transported well away from here, so it can be inspected by a potential buyer?"

Warren regarded Smiler for a moment. "Fair enough." He turned to one of his men, who mumbled an answer back to him.

"Leth, it's a town, a hundred kilometres away. We have a protectorate agent there."

"Good, I'll pass that on."

"The communication tower is ready. Go and call your buyer. Get the credits, then get out of here, back to your city ways."

With that, Warren left. Smiler could hear him laughing with his men as he left the building, a joke obviously at his expense.

He waited by the trucks until they had left. Peering around the building, he grinned on seeing that farming equipment had been pushed to one side to make way for the silo trucks. As soon as the carts were gone, it would be back to the farming business, as if it was all an inconvenience.

In the courtyard, he watched a tractor driving past the security hut and out into the fields. The guards exchanged a wave with the driver. Smiler shook his head. "They have no idea."

His guard approached. "Did you say something?"

"Yes, it's time to call my buyer, lead on."

He was escorted into a small drawing-room at the back of the farmhouse. Pictures of prized cattle and tractors adorned the walls. The black box-styled communication equipment had been set up on a table. A large cable trailed across the floor and out of a window.

Smiler touched the controls and nodded.

"May I have some privacy? This is a very delicate call. I don't want to be put off by anyone," Smiler said

"You have ten minutes," the guard said and left the room.

Checking no one was standing outside the window, Smiler twiddled a knob on the front of the device. The signal strength was good.

He glanced at the door as he made his first call.

"Harvey?"

"Yes, Harvey, who dat?" The voice sounded distance.

"Smiler here. Must be quick. Listen, I'm coming into credits, need transport soon from Kaznac main spaceport, Dredge City. Ready and crewed. Going back to Assoc. No questions, Harvey. Be well paid."

"I, err, okay Mr Smiler, I have a man on Kaznac. He work in spaceport, he will sort you out. You call me when ready."

"Thanks, Harvey."

Smiler adjusted the signal and inputted the Tinker's private comms address. He stood up, brushed his jacket, and breathed out. A "confirm" signal bleeped.

"Who's calling my private line?" the Tinker said

"Well, well, Tinker, it's lovely to hear your voice again," Smiler said, "How are you doing?"

"Oh, it's you," the Tinker said, abruptly.

"I happen to have a huge mound of Locardum with me. Interested?"

"How many credits, Smiler?"

"Four million."

"Four million? Surely we can come to an agreement."

"Per truck. There are three of them."

The Tinker spluttered.

"Something sticking in your throat?"

"What are your payment terms?"

"Two million per truck for me, in a separate payment, leaving six million credits for the local knuckle-draggers here."

"I need proof, Smiler."

"All sorted. We will have a sample for you at a town named Leth in the Farmlands on Kaznac. It's a neutral place, obviously. Once you are happy, we'll arrange terms."

"So where does this leave us?"

"Me sitting on millions of credits and you sitting on your fat arse on a heap of Locardum. How satisfying."

Smiler pulled the connection and asked for Warren.

"The buyer is raising the funds. You will get six million credits, two per truck, how does that sound?" Smiler said, watching the man's eyes closely.

"I'll have to run it past Joppa," Warren said. He pulled at his nose and glanced away for a moment.

The guard fidgeted on his feet, his face flushing.

Smiler examined the men's reactions and grinned.

Warren coughed before speaking. "That is a mighty big amount of credits."

"It is. You take the risk, you get the reward."

"Indeed."

"The buyer will be sending someone to check the ore is the real thing. I directed him to Leth."

"How long until the inspection?"

"It'll be tomorrow evening at the earliest. The Tinker will use his own man, he won't trust anyone from Kaznac."

"Tomorrow afternoon, then, we'll take a bucket load on the fast train to Leth."

Smiler wiped a hand over his head. "You know," he said to his guard, "I feel hungry. I wonder if that baker has any more cakes in her oven?"

***

The Tinker's audio screen went blank.

"He's pulled the connection, sir."

"Did we find its source?"

"Not enough time. Definitely from Kaznac, though."

"Smiler, that bastard. I should never have employed him." The Tinker rubbed his stomach and burped. He stared at his bank of screens but took no notice of their content. He picked up his pipe, filled it, then set it down again. His hand went to the back of his neck.

"Alright, sir?"

"Don't know what's worse, stomach or head."

"I can call the doctor, sir."

"No, I'll take one of my special pills." Deflated, he stood up, put a hand in his pocket, brought it out again, and bent down to pick up his pipe.

"Regg, I've had enough for today, cancel all appointments, I'm going to the compound, order the skiff, will you?"

"Yes, sir. What should we do about the Locardum?"

"Leave it all with you, Regg. I don't want to hear or see Smiler again. Just get the ore and take it to our labs, whatever the cost."

"Yes, sir," Regg said with his head down and his fingers dancing over the screens.

Murmuring to himself, the Tinker shuffled off to the bathroom, his face a picture of dejection.

### Chapter 16

"Any questions?" Brell said at the end of her briefing. Standing up throughout, she leant back against the rear of her pilot's seat.

No one spoke.

"We keep open comms. Percy, you have an earpiece only, so stick with Katey."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Finally, Scrivvens is the senior officer with an overview of the whole raid. If he tells us to do anything, we do it without question. Scrivvens?"

"Thanks, Brell, no more to say. Get suited and booted. Undock in twenty minutes."

Brell watched Scrivvens disappear into the _Pearl_ with Delta for a private moment. Katey jabbed a pain relief spike into her thigh, secured the grenade belt, and picked up her Space Corps rifle. She wore a spare pair of Scrivvens's trousers, adjusted in the legs and waist. After helping Percy struggle into his jacket, she gave him a weapon from the _Pearl_. Lottie sat quietly in the co-pilots chair, wearing an unadorned jumpsuit.

Pulling at her outer jacket, Brell moved her chest from side to side. It had been a long time since she had worn the body armour that Scrivvens had demanded she and Katey wear. Every useful item or weapon had been taken from the _Pearl_ 's store cupboard.

Delta appeared, wearing combat-style jacket, trousers, and boots. She pushed her Police Corps laser pistol into a pocket and patted Lottie on the shoulder. "Good luck, hon," she said before buckling herself into a crew seat.

" _Ready to undock_ ," Scrivvens' voice sounded from the _Pearl_.

"Ready this end. Lottie?" Brell said.

Flicking her finger over a holo control screen, Lottie started the decompression process. Before long, clanking sounds were heard outside the cabin door as the Pearl's doorway retracted.

"Undocked, free to travel," Lottie said.

Tilting the _Lulu_ to starboard, Brell allowed the craft to float forward a safe distance from the _Pearl_ before applying a steady thrust. Descending through the outer atmosphere, she followed their pre-planned route.

"Obstructions ahead," Lottie said. "Deploying full buoy shields."

Slight deceleration was followed by a harder thrust as Brell manoeuvred her way passed a belt of burnt craft, debris, bodies, and junk.

"Night vision on, one hundred kilometres to target," Lottie said.

Flying lower, the Farmlands appeared as a vast moving sea of crops. The land was interspersed with settlements, irrigation canals, and narrow tracks. In the dark sky, all seemed calm and peaceful.

"Rail tracks ahead. Ninety degrees right turn and follow the tracks for fifty kilometres."

The land train tracks came into view as Brell duly settled the _Lulu_ on its new course. Hovering on a laser-powered blanket of power, a train shot below them, leaving a white trail of sparks in its wake.

"Farm transporters by the outbuildings still in position, as per the same time yesterday," Scrivvens said.

"Ten kilometres to outbuildings."

"Descending."

Throttling back Brell yawed the _Lulu_ to port. Maintaining a steady height, she watched their predetermined landing spot appear on the screen.

" _N_ o one in the _vicinity_."

"Landing," Brell said, without taking her eyes off a screen.

There was a brief downward jolt.

Brell waited for confirmation that the struts were locked. "We're secure. Get ready."

Opening the cockpit outer door, Brell slung her rifle over her shoulder as Lottie jumped into the main pilot's seat.

"See you soon," Lottie said, holding out a hand for Brell to touch briefly.

Brell exited first, with Katey, Percy, and Delta following behind, after a quick hug with Lottie.

They trooped along a rutted track until a safe distance from the _Lulu_.

"All clear," Brell said.

The _Lulu_ ascended a few hundred metres, its thrusters blasting out in the night air. Gradually, the engine noise diminished as Lottie banked left into a trajectory away from the farmstead and up into space. Apart from the rustle of crops with the light breeze, it became silent. It was the fourth hour of the morning, Brell's favourite time for a raid in her Police Corps days.

After a hundred-metre walk, they arrived at the workers outbuilding. A neatly parked row of maintenance vehicles greeted them.

"Percy, try that one," Katey said.

"Ma'am," he said, getting into a small transporter.

With four wheels, four seats, and a plasma-fuelled engine, the vehicle had no roof. It was perfect for examining outlying fields without scaring animals. Percy started the engine as the others climbed in. Katey pointed a finger ahead and they accelerated into the darkness.

"Vehicle obtained, making our way to the farm," Brell said.

" _Received_ ," Scrivvens said.

They progressed along a roadway for a while in quiet contemplation. No mobile patrols or other traffic was in the vicinity. With the vehicle lights turned off, Katey operated a side light, normally used for hunting vermin.

"Can see turning to farm ahead," Katey said. "Percy, stop over there."

He pulled the vehicle off the road into a shallow ditch.

"Changeover," Brell said.

Katey, Brell, and Percy climbed out as Delta slid into the driver's seat.

Brell tapped Delta on the shoulder. She drove back onto the road and turned into the two-hundred-metre-long road which led to the security hut. The vehicle lights were now turned on.

Katey and Percy followed Brell as she picked a parallel path to the road along rough ground. They stopped by a line of short trees and scanned the area. The dimly lit farm buildings with its outside walls of dark stone lay ahead of them. They waited for Delta's signal.

Having driven slowly along the roadway, Delta stopped by the security hut. The two men inside turned and shared a quizzical look. They nudged each other as they stared out the window. A light shone onto the vehicle. Unfastening her combat jacket to expose her cleavage, Delta sauntered towards the hut.

"Excuse me, but I think I'm lost," she said to the face poking around the side of the open door.

"Where are you heading for, miss? It's very early in the morning."

"I'm trying to find Marigold farm, to deliver a, should I say, special request," she raised an eyebrow, "but I appear to have found the wrong road."

"Come into the hut, miss, we'll help out."

Both men exchanged a glance.

As she approached, Delta examined the men, their strength, facial expressions, and weapons. She entered the hut and squeezed herself in between them. Her groin rubbed up against one of the men.

"Excuse me," she said, "bit cosy in here with you two strong boys."

Winking to the other man, a guard said, "Marigold farm, did you say? That is the next place along, about ten kilometres."

"Oh," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "silly me. I'd better be on my way, don't want to keep a customer waiting." She turned to the side and pushed her breasts into one of the men's arms.

"You can warm up here first, miss, if you like?" he said.

"Well you have been very kind." She reached a hand down into a pocket as she spoke.

As the man closed the door, Delta stunned him in his back. She quickly spun around and struck the other man. Both fell over, surprised and groaning.

"Guard hut secure," she said.

The sound of boot steps on the gravel outside grew louder. Brell's head appeared at the door and, stepping inside, she stunned the men again.

Without waiting, Delta took out a small cube and set it on the table by a console. Thumbing on the device, she ran Scrivvens' routines, one of which they hoped would corrupt or confuse the communications channels.

Watching the lines of scrolling text and spinning symbols, she waited for Scrivvens' algorithms to unpick the security codes. A line of text turned green, followed by a confirmation screen.

_Disrupted._

One second later another line of text appeared.

_Well done, Delta. Proud of you._

She smiled.

"Comms disrupted," she said.

"Good job, Delta," Brell said, patting her arm. Her face was grim in anticipation of the next part of their mission.

Once the men were relieved of their weapons and ammunition, Brell and Delta left the hut to join the others. Katey stood with her back to the compound wall next to Percy.

"Done. The two men are out of action," Brell said, passing over a rifle and ammunition.

Both women stood with two rifles slung over opposing shoulders and short Space Corps assault rifles in their hands.

"Ready for stage two?"

Katey nodded.

They made their way along the edge of the wall and into the opening to the courtyard. The area the security hut guards were supposed to have covered. Dull lights on top of tall wooden posts threw pale shadows on the ground.

As Brell halted, Katey stood alongside her. "Guards?" she said.

"No main patrols evident. Nothing apparent in the outer areas. Appears same setup as last night," Scrivvens said.

"Moving forward. Good luck," Brell said.

"And yourself, cousin," Katey said back.

Brell made her way forward, Delta right behind her. They hugged the buildings, trying to stay in shadows. A sound of a large door being slid open came from behind. She turned to see Katey and Percy disappear into a maintenance building.

She hunched down. Considering how far away the _Pearl_ was in space, the images provided had given excellent intelligence. Brell recognised the layout. There was no mistaking the outbuilding containing the Locardum trucks.

Two men, the same as posted the previous night, leant on the doors of the target building. They were smoking and exchanging small talk, the staple early morning guard behaviour. Their rifles were slung over their shoulders.

At the sound of a machine starting up from the maintenance shed, Brell ran forward, stunner in hand as the men became alert and turned in her direction. Before they could react, she zapped one of them, with Delta taking care of the other.

A wide harvesting machine glided by. With a normal tractor body, it had a wide threshing machine protruding out from the front. Percy stared ahead without acknowledging Brell. Katey must have given him instructions in no uncertain terms. Brell heard another vehicle start up. A large tractor appeared. Katey's body jiggled along as she held the steering wheel with one hand and a rifle with the other.

Brell held her weapon ready in anticipation of a shot from an awake farmer hiding somewhere in the shadows.

A light came on in an upstairs room of the kitchen and staff block, followed by another one in the security bunkhouse opposite.

While Brell watched the courtyard activity, Delta, in the meantime had examined the doors security mechanism. Pulling out a selection of small cables, she stuck one into the lock and turned her head away. A soft _pftt_ later, and the device deactivated.

"Open," she said.

Brell looked around. Percy was jogging back to join them having jammed the harvester against the main entrance of the bunkhouse. Katey, who had stopped the tractor, stood up in her seat and waved a hand towards the two downed guards. In response, Brell slid the door open a fraction and with Delta's help, they lumped the two men's bodies inside. She heard the tractors engine gently accelerate.

Leaving Katey to secure the front, she went further inside the building. A series of portable lanterns, placed on the floor, emitted a luminous glow. There, in the middle, was the unmistakable outline of three trucks. Standing at odd angles to each other, they appeared untouched. A large jumble of farmyard equipment, seed containers, fuel canisters, and tools had been pushed to one side.

Despite trying to step quietly, the general debris on the hard plascrete floor crunched underfoot. She may as well shout out and announce herself.

Stopping, she craned her neck to clarify something she heard.

Snoring.

She nodded to Delta, who nodded back and clutched her pistol.

The two men were sitting in fold-up chairs, mouths open with their heads angled backwards. Rifles lay across their laps. Their communication devices were propped against beer bottles.

Brell stepped forward and pointed her weapon. Small blue bolts of high stunning energy entered their chests, making them slump. She kicked them both onto the ground. After checking the rest of the building, she spoke into her comms bracelet.

"I'm inside. I can confirm the Locardum trucks are here, untouched. Two guards have been taken out," Brell said.

" _Copy that_ ," Scrivvens said.

They dragged the men away from the trucks.

"Shouts from inside the bunkhouse, standby, everyone. Percy, keep your head down," Katey said.

"Yes, ma'am," Percy's voice could be heard in the background.

" _Received that_ ," Scrivvens said.

Standing in front of the rear wall, Brell ran her hand along the rough bricks in thought. She touched the side of a truck. "Lottie, ready for instructions?"

" _Go ahead_."

"As we discussed. Two utilities with laser cutters, five metres height by ten wide from the centre of the building. Fire spikes in and winch wall out. Clear ramp of debris. Use heavy duel fibre winch cable, one truck at a time. The trucks are the ones from the silo and are parked at odd angles. Each for side zero-g wrapping. Land seven metres from the building. Begin descent now," Brell said. Her experience of picking up freight from across the galaxy meant there were few loads she couldn't hook up. That's not to say she learnt hard lessons along the way.

" _Understood_ ," Lottie said. " _Descending_."

Handing Delta one of the sleeping guard's rifles, they returned to find Katey.

She nodded on seeing Katey's tractor parked at a tight angle across the front of the doors. Its bumper touched the edge of the wall, giving them a strong shield against weapon fire. Its protection would enable them to sneak the Locardum out of the back. That was the plan.

Katey positioned Percy to her left, so that he could cover the front entrance and the guards hut, where they had entered the farmstead. There was a concern that an impromptu mobile patrol could turn up unexpectedly. Katey stayed in the middle to direct events as Delta took the right-hand position to monitor the side of the kitchen block, the main farmhouse, and part of the security bunkhouse.

"Here." Brell handed Katey a rifle and ammunition. "Run inside when you need extra cover."

"Thanks," Katey said. She peered around the side of the tractor by Delta. "More lights coming on, it's going to get messy."

The sound of reverse thrusting engines could be heard approaching from overhead. "The _Lulu_ 's landing. This will wake them up," Brell said.

A bell started clanging.

"Landed, engine on tick over, opening hold," Lottie said. A short while later, Lottie's voice was heard again. "Gertie and Bertie, laser cut the wall. Five metres height, by ten metres width. Simultaneous. Frizzle, hammer spike. Mizzle, winch operation. Get to it, boys," Lottie said.

It sounded as if Lottie was organising a Sunday afternoon tea party. Unable to contain a small nervous grin, Brell squatted next to Katey.

"Going back inside," she said to Katey, patting her on the shoulder. Delta followed closely behind.

"Delta, stay here and help secure the front," Brell said.

"Lottie told me to stay with you," Delta said.

Smiling, Brell said, "Thanks, Delta, appreciate that, I'll be back soon." She touched her arm and turned to Katey. "Leave you to it."

Brell checked the guards were still subdued, then watched a line of bubbling plaster appear in a straight line across the end wall.

"Shouts heard from bunkhouse," Katey said.

"Spikes being deployed," Lottie said.

Brell stepped back. A series of spikes blasted their way through the wall. Arms unfolded like a flowering bud from their metallic heads.

"Looks good this side; Lottie, take up the tension," Brell said.

The spikes were pulled back against the weakened section of wall. Teetering for a moment, the wall collapsed outwards without warning. Rumbling as it struck the ground, a pall of brick, plastic, and fabric dust swirled into the air. The building's weakened structure shook.

With an arm across her mouth, Brell squinted through the opening. The _Lulu_ 's cargo ramp open and ready, presented a beautiful sight. All four bots proceeded to sweep away the brickwork to create a pathway for the trucks. Lottie stood in the middle, directing events.

"Weapon fire," Katey said.

Brell looked along the back of the maintenance buildings, then turned to her left to view the rear wall of the kitchen block. Lights were on above the kitchen and a window was opened. Uncertain if any weapons were being aimed at her, she blasted off two shots. The bolts thudded into the window, smashing the glass and surrounding framework. No one stirred.

"Lottie?"

"It's clear, ready to winch," Lottie said.

Brell heard the distinctive sound of weapon fire coming from the courtyard. "Katey?"

"Holding position," she said, zips and pangs sounding in the background.

A utility bot pulled a long cable behind it and disappeared into the dust of the storage building. Lottie appeared further down the ramp, a side pistol on her hip.

Brell threw her a rifle. "Lottie, use the hold as a barrier. Direct events and watch the sides. Shoot if necessary."

Lottie caught the rifle, checked it was live, and held it ready at her hip. Brell saw the utility bot's arm manipulating the hook onto the truck.

It re-appeared with arms outstretched. Immediately the cable took up its slack at the activation of the winch from the rear of the cargo hold. A moveable strut enabled the cable to bring the truck into alignment with the ramp.

Side-tracked by the sight of the moving truck, Brell realised the sound of gunfire from the courtyard was becoming more intense.

"Lottie, keep it up. Going to help Katey."

### Chapter 17

The bell had stopped ringing, but in its place was the sound of weapon fire. Bullets zipped and cracked inaccurately off the tractor and the storage building. On reaching the entrance doors, Brell spat out dust which had collected in her mouth. She squatted next to Katey who was peering over the top of the tractor.

Delta fired off a short burst of rounds into the farmhouse main doorway. Her right arm suddenly jolted backwards from a bullet deflecting off the wall.

Brell gazed tentatively around the tractor at the kitchen block. A door opened, and a light shone momentarily.

"Shut that bloody door," a male voice boomed out.

The door was swiftly closed.

"The trucks are being loaded, won't be long," Brell said.

Katey nodded whilst reloading one of her rifles. "The firing is coming from the security bunkhouse upper floor and main farmhouse. Trying to pin them back."

Brell was about to speak again when a voice could be heard shouting from the bunkhouse towards someone inside the main doors of the farmhouse.

"Boss, boss, comms are down."

"Yes. That's why the bloody bell was ringing."

"We can't get out, stuck in the bunkhouse."

"Jump out of the bloody windows, then."

"We're being shot at, boss."

"No shit. Get the ordnance upstairs and take out that lot behind the tractor."

"Boss."

"They must have a heavier weapon of some sort," Katey said.

"Shit," Brell said.

"We'll keep firing up into the windows, to keep their heads down, whilst you are winching out back." She put a hand out. "Everyone, stop firing for a moment."

Brell spat out more dirt and waited, aware of the concentration on Katey's face.

Katey took a quick peek at the buildings. "Some men are staring out of the windows. Stupid sods. Percy keep watching the front entrance. Brell, Delta? Pick your targets. With me. Ready?"

Without discussion, they stood up, and fired a volley of shots.

They squatted back down. Cries and shouts came from the security bunkhouse. Brell knew she had shot at least two men. This was not a time for introspection.

"Standby. Wait a moment," Katey said, her voice clear and confident. "Ready? ... Again."

They fired another burst, bullets streamed accurately into the upstairs windows, pitting the walls inside. Delta had virtually shredded the ornate wooden doors of the farmhouse. There was a brief volley of returning fire.

Brell saw Katey wobble and fall backwards. She dropped her rifle and clutched at her chest.

"Katey's down. Cover us," Brell said, raising her voice.

Shots now cracked and pinged around the tractor as Delta and Percy returned fire.

Crouching as low as possible, Brell grabbed Katey and pulled her back into the building. She unfastened Katey's jacket and ran a hand over her shirt. There were no immediate signs of blood.

"I'm okay," Katey said slowly, opening her eyes. "Armour." Her fingers went to her side.

Brell fetched out her pocket multi tool and thumbed on its glow light. She pulled up Katey's shirt and saw a dent in the armoured undershirt. She rubbed a finger across the fabric. The armour had not been pierced, but the spot would hurt like hell. A large bruise was more preferable than a fatal shot.

"It bounced off," Brell said. "It must have been an old type of slug."

"Thank you, Scrivvens," Katey said, taking Brell's hand to pull herself up.

She spent a moment bending over, gaining her breath back.

"Two men have moved behind the harvester at the bunkhouse," Delta said, "another is trying to get out of a window." She stood up and fired. "He's decided to stay inside."

Katey took some breaths as a bullet blasted into the wall above her head. "It's safer behind the tractor."

They got back into position tight against the vehicle.

"One man by far storage building, near security hut," Percy said.

"Percy, shoot him in the leg," Katey said.

_Bang_.

"He's down, ma'am."

A loud cry of agony came from the wounded male. Brell saw him writhing on the ground.

"Leave him," Katey said, "puts off the others."

Brell knew Katey with her Space Corps and Tinker's gang experience was in her comfort zone; under fire, making decisions and shooting people. She felt no need to interfere.

She scooted next to Delta. "Okay?"

"Another one has got behind the harvester."

A volley of shots was fired from an upstairs window.

It seemed the farmers were becoming organised.

***

Smiler woke. He was certain he heard the sounds of a commotion inside the farmhouse. His head rested on Mabel's back; she was fast asleep, snoring. He shuffled under the covers, trying to settle.

Again, another noise. Gunfire? Suddenly awake, he grabbed his clothes. His legs buckled as he tried to stand up. Cavorting with a woman whose passion had not been breached for years had taken its toll. His legs wobbled as he went out to find his guard.

"All men on standby, problem in one of the sheds. Might be night thieves after farming equipment," the guard said.

"Farming equipment? They're going after the ore." Smiler said.

"Dunno. Not your problem, you're not allowed to leave. Seems like you have your hands full with Mabel in there," the guard said, grinning.

"What is Warren doing?"

"Boss is concentrating fire in the courtyard. Comms are out."

"Has anyone gone around the back of the buildings?"

"Eh?"

Smiler punched the man, kicked him, and grabbed his weapon, He then ran upstairs and headed for one of the side windows.

***

"Second truck being winched in," Lottie said.

Brell stayed next to Katey as they listened to commands being shouted between buildings. Shots pinged around them momentarily; she ducked as a bolt fizzed over her head.

"Shooting from main farmhouse doorway," Delta said.

"Stay down," Katey said.

"Percy."

"Yes, ma'am."

She unhooked a grenade from her belt. "Throw one of these at the farmhouse door."

"Yes, ma'am."

Katey fired off two rounds as Percy, wincing as he stood, lobbed the grenade in a high trajectory. There were shouts followed by a loud blast as the lower level windows bowed and shattered.

Brell noticed Percy stumble and hold his left arm.

"Percy?" she said.

"Just a scratch, ma'am," he said, grimacing.

"Second truck in the hold. Standby," Lottie became silent, "Utility bot hit, under fire from the rear of the kitchen block."

Brell hesitated. Katey slapped her on the back. "Cousin, go and cover the _Lulu_. We'll hold, then retreat towards you."

"Cousin," Brell said, ducking inside the building.

She made her way to the final truck.

"Long barrel protruding from the first-floor end window of the security bunkhouse," Katey said over the comm set. "It's gone quiet, standby, everyone."

Brell stopped.

A loud boom was immediately followed by a projectile slamming into the front corner of the building. The ground shook as hot fractured bricks loosened and dislodged. Brell saw cracks in the ceiling; the load-bearing beams were splitting.

She ran back to the front door.

"Katey, get inside," Brell said.

"Hold on. Will try shooting through the internal walls, to get at that gun."

Brell remained behind the doors to avoid the gunfire as Katey and Delta adjusted their positions.

Another shell smashed into the building. Its resonance knocked Brell to the ground. Brick and debris rained down onto her and the sound rang in her ears. Amongst the dust, she saw the doors had buckled, leaving only a narrow opening. It was obvious they could not be opened.

"Katey?" Brell said, shouting, and peering through the gap.

"Delta is down," Katey said in between shots.

Brell saw her reload her rifle, then toss a grenade to Percy. Delta's body lay to one side amongst rubble and twisted parts of the tractor. Her lower chest was a mess of frayed clothing fabric mixed with internal components, connectors, and broken metal skeleton. Her head and shoulders remained intact.

"Can you squeeze through the doors?" Brell shouted out.

Katey turned, her face streaked in dirt. "Too much damage and too narrow. We'll have to go back to the front entrance." She turned her head. "Throw it at the harvester, Percy."

"Yes ma'am."

"Go, go, before they fire another one. We're nearly done here. We'll pick you up out in the fields. Can you drag Delta with you?" Brell said.

There was a loud explosion as Percy's grenade hit its target. The harvesters fuel cell burst, sending a plume of blue flame into the air which blackened the front of the bunkhouse. With its extensive bullet damage, the building would be uninhabitable for some time.

"Okay, moving now. Percy, grab Delta," Katey said.

"Yes, ma'am."

Brell thought briefly of Scrivvens, sitting alone in the _Pearl_ , listening, and watching events unfold.

"Scrivvens keep an eye on Katey's position," she said, to keep him focused.

"Copy that," he said, his voice sounding far off.

Brell stood up and made her way back inside. Another projectile struck the roof. She wondered if they were trying to fire over the building towards the _Lulu_.

"Katey?"

"We've moved back."

Relieved, Brell peered carefully around and up the side of the kitchen block. It was difficult to spot anything or anyone specific. As she pulled her head back, shots whistled passed. One of the utility bots, armed with Lottie's pistol, proceeded to fire off a few shots. The bot took a hit and quivered, its arms moving in an agitated state.

"Lottie. Update?"

"Sending out winch for the last one."

"Stay in the hold with the winch, let's get this done." Brell knew they could not leave the last truck behind. Its contents were enough to cause untold misery.

As she saw the bot emerging from the rear of the Lulu, Brell held out the security guard's rifle and aimed it along the side of the kitchen block. The heavy weapon thunked in her hands.

The bot arrived safely and duly attached the cable.

"Begin winching," Brell said.

_Boom_.

The ground shook as the plas-metal framework at the front of the building started to bow. Brell instinctively ducked her head, believing the building would fold in on itself.

As the cable took up its slack, the cart was pulled forward, stopping briefly as its angle of approach was altered.

Weapon fire ceased outside to be replaced by someone shouting.

"Hey, Bluey. Are you trying to steal back my Locardum?"

### Chapter 18

Unsurprised by Smiler's presence, Brell popped off a couple of shots towards his general location. She also believed that there was firing coming from an upstairs window.

Another shell smashed through the front wall and into the building. Brell felt a rush of heat and her ears rang. It was only a matter of time before the farmers gained in confidence and rushed the front of the building. There was no doubt that Katey's tactics of continual harassment and sniping had set the men on edge.

Brell watched the rear of the ore truck trundling ahead of her and hesitated. Stay in a structure about to implode, or risk a hail of bullets in a dash for the safety of the truck?

"Brell, Brell, my dear, time to give it up," Smiler said. "Boys, keep firing, she has to come out."

The gap between her and the truck widened.

"Lottie, leave the hold on the safe side. Get into the cockpit and standby." Brell wiped her face and swallowed.

Lottie appeared and quickly ran up the side of the _Lulu_.

It had to be now.

"Where's my blue bitch?"

Smiler's voice sounded nearer.

She tensed, let go of her rifle, and ran. Shots whipped in the air as she lunged forward. A bullet thumped into the side and chest area of her body armour making her stumble. She maintained enough traction with her boots to get around the side of the truck and jump onto the narrow lip above the wheels. Her fingers grasped a vertical bar protruding slightly where the metal sides were joined together.

The truck's angle changed as it rolled over the top of the ramp. Shots zipped into the hold, strafing its sidewall.

Looking back, Brell's heart sank. Smiler stood, rifle in hand, laughing. He casually placed one foot on the bottom of the ramp.

"Thanks for loading it for me."

The truck did not move fast enough for Brell, who continued to cling on. She was caught. Unable to let go and or defend herself, she could only pull her body flat into the side of the truck. In slow motion, she watched Smiler raise his weapon. Standing less than ten metres away, he couldn't miss.

She turned her head and waited.

A laser bolt hit her in the side and she felt a hot streak across the back of her neck. Fighting to sustain her finger hold, she quickly glanced back. Smiler's face showed discomfort, and his rifle pointed to the sky. He staggered sideways then backwards. Brell realised that a damaged cargo bot was clinging to him, its arms fixed round his thighs in a vice-like grip. The rifle dangled from his fingers momentarily before dropping to the ground. No other men had come to his assistance.

_Boom_.

The big gun fired. As the wall shattered, hot shards of metal landed in amongst the discarded fuel canisters. Flames erupted as the structure twisted and warped. Crunching metal sounded as Smiler feverishly pulled at the bot's grip, loosening it a fraction. Hobbling backwards, he tripped on the numerous bricks laying on the ground. Tottering, he could not keep himself upright and fell back into the building.

Brell watched Smiler's demise intently. Without adequate support, the roof struts loosened and tumbled down in a hail of roof tiles onto the fire spreading below. There was a loud, painful cry from Smiler's last position.

Transfixed, she believed momentarily that he would appear through the flames and walk towards her.

But there was nothing except the rapidly collapsing building. The stunned guards inside remained unconscious and oblivious to their fate.

Aware the truck had reached a safe position in the hold, Brell jumped off. Her cramped fingers managed to grasp a wall strap. One of the remaining bots proceeded to secure the truck and prepare it for flight.

"Lottie, ascend and pull forward, get us away from the farm," Brell said.

"Wilco."

"Katey?" Brell said. Not hearing anything, she repeated her message.

Heavy breathing, footsteps, and gunfire.

"Getting to our farm vehicle by the security hut, too many of them," Katey said, her voice shouting.

"We'll pick you up," Brell said.

"Been hit, ma'am," Percy's pained voice could be heard in the background.

"Just get in the bloody motor and drive," Katey said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"We've got Delta's body," Katey said.

"Copy that," Scrivvens said.

Brell felt and heard the _Lulu_ 's engines being over-throttled; the craft, though moving forward, seemed to be hanging in the air. The wind whistled through the still open ramp. Her knees buckled as the engines faltered.

"Emergency landing," Lottie said.

***

In amongst the noise and devastation, Mabel, on finding Smiler missing from the bed, put on her clothes and housecoat. She ran upstairs, picked her way over the debris of the main entrance, and passed anxious men staring at dead bodies on the floor. Though muttering threats, they seemed paralysed. Reaching a rear-facing window, Mabel peered outside. Leaning further, she saw the collapsed wall where the _Lulu_ had loaded the ore trucks.

"If you're looking for city man, he climbed out that window a while ago," a female servant said.

Using a chair, Mabel managed to cock a leg over the windowsill. She fell onto the ground outside. Unused to this type of exertion, she held the wall to steady herself.

"Would you help me? He is worth the effort, please?" Mabel said.

The servant wiped her hands and glanced around. "Okay, I'll follow you out in a minute."

Half-running, a determined expression on her face, she was not going to let her city man out of her clutches.

***

Warren raged at his men. On seeing Katey and Percy making it through the entrance and no one following behind them, he stood in shock as farmers suddenly appeared in the courtyard from the windows, doors, and side entrances.

"Where have you been?" he said, shouting. His face was red and he clutched his wounded arm.

None of the men answered.

"We've lost good men. Brave men, who put their lives on the line so that you rabbits could hide. Now get your arses after them."

Appearing like an unruly mob amid loud shouts of "Let's get them," a storage shed was opened. The men stuffed themselves into three land vehicles and, with rifles pointing outwards, they accelerated off.

Warren led another group towards the building where the ore trucks had been stored. On seeing the wobbly state of it, he made a detour through the kitchen block.

He saw servants standing by what remained of the back wall, attempting to step inside. Despite the scene of chaos, his attention was drawn to the sky.

A freighter craft, in obvious difficulty, was descending quickly.

"Over there. After them."

***

Brell crouched, put her back against the wall, and held her knees as the _Lulu_ careered onto the ground, sliding for a short distance. She stepped out into the fields, estimating they were only two kilometres from the farmstead.

Lottie joined her. "Delta?" she said, staring at Brell.

"She's gone, Lottie. Gone. We must get airborne to pick up Katey and Percy. We'll talk about Delta later." She gazed back towards the farm. "Scrivvens. Problem with _Lulu_ 's engines. What's happening with Katey?"

"Being pursued a kilometre away from yourself, but in a different direction."

"Katey keep going, we'll come and get you."

"Roger," Katey said, her voice joggling from the momentum of the vehicle across the rutted fields.

A thin morning light attempted to show itself as Brell inspected the ramp and sides of her craft.

"Brick dust?" Brell said, kicking a landing strut.

The rear engines were covered in a fine pink powder. One engine was riddled with weapon fire.

"Bullets," Lottie said, "we took some fire from the side. The engines are full of dust, as well. Very sluggish."

"Lottie, interrogate the engine manual. Low energy blowout needed to pump fresh air through the tubes," Brell said, taking Lottie's rifle off her. They jogged along towards the cockpit. Brell positioned herself outside the cabin and peered out along the hull into the fields beyond.

"Zigzag, Percy, zigzag," Katey's shouting voice came through Brell's earpiece.

"Brell, vehicles heading to your position," Scrivvens said.

"Roger that."

"Lottie. Close the cargo hold. We'll take them here if we have to."

Brell bent her head as she listened to the whizzing gunfire on Katey's comms. A vehicle engine sounded overstrained.

Two of the farm vehicles came into Brell's view. One was open-topped, packed with men, the other had a large barrelled weapon on the back. Its nervous trigger man was firing already, though his shots landed short.

Katey was heard grunting something which sounded like "Grenade." A loud explosion followed.

"Lottie?"

"Nearly ready."

Brell lined her rifle at the lead vehicle. Blasting off a shot, she hit the front engine compartment. The vehicle slowed and swerved.

"Air in. Holding. Blowing out," Lottie said.

"Go," Brell said. She stepped fully into the main cockpit and closed the door. "Start up, lift us up, move forward as far as you can."

From a rear screen, Brell saw bullets flying off the rear hull and cargo doors.

Silence ensued as Brell, conscious of each second passing, could only watch Lottie methodically work through the engine sequence.

"Ignition," Lottie said.

Brell, still standing, felt the familiar vibration under her feet, but its normal soothing throb was intermittent and stuttering. Her knees flexed as they took off. She watched the fields as they ascended and glanced at the screens to see the men arcing their weapons and firing. The driver of the vehicle containing the large weapon stopped right underneath the _Lulu_. The triggerman was unable to swing the armament up into a high enough angle. He was angrily punching a passenger in frustration.

"Engine thrust holding," Lottie said.

"Get over towards Katey's last position. Estimate one-kilometre starboard."

"Wilco."

"Katey?"

"Percy and vehicle have been hit. We've stopped," Katey said.

Brell heard repeated gunfire and heavy exertion.

"Scrivvens? Update?"

No reply.

"Katey, Scrivvens?" Brell said, she could now only hear weapon fire. "Scrivvens?"

Brell ignored Lottie struggling with the controls and peered out from the cockpit windscreen. A black shape appeared in the sky, leaving a trail as it swooped down from under the clouds. It thundered overhead.

"Space Corps?" Brell said. "No shit, it's the _Pearl_."

"Katey. Get ready, I'm coming in," Scrivvens said in a quietly determined voice.

With the _Lulu_ hanging in the air, Lottie turned towards Katey's position. Brell could see the _Pearl_ making a skewed landing at speed. She could just make out Katey hunched behind the front of the farm vehicle, firing at unseen targets. Percy lay next to her, barely moving. Delta's mangled torso lay beside him.

Brell felt helpless. Unable to be certain the _Lulu_ could land and take off again, she knew from the sound and feel of the engines that it would need effort to gain sufficient altitude. But Scrivvens was placing his career and life on the line to save Katey.

"Are the engines holding and controllable?"

"Yes, for now."

"Okay. Lottie, this is an order," Brell said, holding the back of Lottie's seat. "Get over to the _Pearl_. Bring us down to twenty metres, swing the rear engine backdraft towards the pursuers. If you can, make the engine mix hotter."

"They will be injured or killed."

"I know," Brell said.

"For Delta, then?"

"Yes, and to save our friends."

Lottie nodded without taking her eyes off the controls.

"We're coming to you," Brell said directly into her comms wristband.

Treading carefully on the juddering floor, Brell stared out of the windscreen. They were heading towards the _Pearl_. Weapons were continually firing, and Katey was pinned down. As much as Brell loved the _Lulu_ , its length, though perfect for space travel, was not built for swooping down like this. She knew that Lottie had calculated the length of the _Lulu_ and the exact position of the rear engines.

"Approaching," Lottie said

"Scrivvens, standby, we are using our engines on the men."

"I'm ready," he said.

She was relieved at hearing his voice.

"Katey, standby, can you hear me?"

"Yes," Katey said, above the din of rifle fire.

"Lottie, do it," Brell said, holding onto the wall.

She examined the screens as Lottie descended to twenty metres and slowly reversed towards the men. Three farm vehicles appeared on an undercarriage camera. Men were hunched behind each one, firing at Katey and the _Pearl_. None of them could ignore the noise or sight of the freighter hovering towards them, its engine blast obliterating the crops. Some of them ran into the fields, whilst others stood their ground and fired at the underside of the _Lulu_.

The _Lulu_ continued its deadly path.

Brell put a hand on Lottie's shoulder as she grimly watched the men and their vehicles become consumed by the heat of the downdraft.

"Cleared the pursuers. Holding our position," Brell said.

"Copy that," Scrivvens said. "Ramp down."

Brell heard scuffling and garbled language whilst Scrivvens appeared at the bottom of the Pearl's ramp, pistol in hand.

He bent down and ran to check on Katey, who was helping Percy to his feet. As she walked him to the ramp, Scrivvens dashed out and grabbed the collar of Delta's jacket and dragged her along the ground. Within moments, everyone had disappeared into the _Pearl_.

"We're in," Scrivvens said. "I've got Delta."

"Good. Glad that Katey and Percy could get her back to you," Brell said.

"Thanks."

The _Lulu_ 's engines shuddered and spluttered. Brell held out a hand to steady herself.

"Lottie?"

She saw Lottie's hands moving furiously over the controls and the multi-screens. Brell held her breath, the _Lulu_ faltered, and she felt weightless. Power kicked in and her legs buckled.

"I've blown more air through the tubes," Lottie said. "I think it's cleared the blockages."

"Ascending," Scrivvens said.

Brell jumped in the co-pilot's seat and checked the cargo hold; the trucks were still secure, despite all the buffeting. For a few moments, she studied the screens; constant moving symbols and levels showed the stress on the engines. But they flew forwards and away from danger.

"Steering check and surge the engines." Brell said to Lottie. She bent her head in concentration. "Scrivvens, engine problems, keep going, we'll meet you later."

"Copy that."

Ascending gradually, Lottie levelled off and tilted the craft port and starboard. She followed this by decreasing the power, then accelerating sharply. "Rear port engine only seventy percent efficient," Lottie said, "balancing with rear starboard. It's going to hold."

"Brell," Scrivvens said, his voice showing strain. "Scanners showing a small group of Assoc craft ahead."

Brell quickly brought up a wide scanner and auto-zoomed in. "Shit."

A small flotilla of varying sized craft was in a static position only a few kilometres into deep space.

"Unmarked. Space Corps again, or the Tinker?"

"Could be anything, we need to split up," Brell said.

"Percy is seriously injured."

"Cousin?" Katey said.

"Yes, cousin?" Brell said.

"Get your arse out of there."

"Brell, I'll add to that," Scrivvens said. "I order you to take the Locardum to safety. That is the mission's priority. We'll see you on the other side."

Brell rubbed a hand over her face. She knew Scrivvens was right and it was pointless complaining.

"Good luck, all of you. Lottie, take us up and away from those craft."

### Chapter 19

With the _Pearl_ on auto pilot, Scrivvens and Katey stripped Percy's clothes and tended to his injuries. Used to dealing with medical emergencies, they both worked silently and in tandem. A quick scan revealed bullet fragments inside his wounds, which required proper surgical procedures. When they finished, the bed was covered in blood and dressings

"I'll make an emergency call once we get into Assoc space. We've done as much as we can, need professional assistance. How are you?"

"Couple of nicks, blast concussion, and hearing buzzing. Received painful one in my chest, but nothing like Percy or Delta."

"We've still got some sprays and medical stuff, check yourself over, you never know what they may have used as ammunition. Spare jumpsuit in one of the cupboards."

Katey went into the bathroom to examine her injuries and get changed as Scrivvens checked on the flight path to the borderline between Kaznac and Assoc space. Using as many auto functions as he could manage, he sent the _Pearl_ in the opposite direction to the Lulu's last position. He also ensured their flight path avoided the Association spacecraft.

"Re-bandaged the thigh," Katey said on returning. "Hell of a bruise on my chest."

"As Percy is stable for the time being, could you help me with Delta's body?"

"Sure."

They laid out her torso. Scrivvens' hands shook as he stroked her hair and face. Feeling around her neck, he said, "Her head is in good condition." Disappearing, he returned holding a tool pouch.

"Hold her, please; I'm going to extract her memory tubes."

In an oddly fascinating rather than gruesome way, he dug a long spindle device into the back of Delta's head. A flap opened, completely invisible under her hair. With skilled fingers, Scrivvens lifted the opening, revealing three small metallic tubes. Pulling one out, he examined it in the light.

"Still intact," he said carefully placing it inside a padded box.

Once the other two tubes were safely stored, he closed the flap.

Face lightening from the grim task, he said, "May be able to do something with this. Contains all my programming and her memories."

Katey nodded.

"The basic robotic stuff is still in there. This was my own little experiment."

"Impressive," Katey said. "What should we do with her? Wrap her up?"

Scrivvens face changed again as he stared at the twisted remains of Delta's body. They wrapped her in a spare bed cover and left her on the cabin floor by the wall.

"Could you do me a favour? Check over all the controls and our flight path. You're better at this piloting thing than me. I need to update our commander, and I'll ask him to contact your mother."

"Sure," Katey said and plonked herself into the pilot's seat.

Scrivvens sat by the comms desk and rattled off a brief message to Brune, Brell, and his parents.

He checked on Percy, mindful not to peer over at Delta's wrapped body, then fetched two hot drinks.

"Okay?"

"Yes, made a few adjustments, but we are good. Approaching Assoc space very soon."

"No messages received back from anyone. They might not have got through."

"Could our transmitter have been damaged?"

"Possibly. I'm not exactly the most careful pilot around the space junk. Plus I think there was some weapon fire towards us, before Brell mowed them down. Let's hope she got away."

"A very determined woman. She would have made it," Katey said. She glanced at a small screen. "Oh, here we are, we've just entered Assoc space."

"Can you send the emergency signal sub frequency. That should get through?"

Katey tapped her fingers and pressed the emergency button when it appeared. "Done."

Within three minutes, a message arrived. "This is Space Corps control, your emergency signal has been received, identify yourself."

"This is the _Pearl_ , undercover Space Corps craft. I am Police Corps Inspector Scrivvens, we have a seriously injured Space Corps officer onboard. We've been on an active mission on Kaznac, Non-Association."

"We have your position. A vessel is being despatched. Will be approximately one hour."

"Received," Scrivvens said.

"Do we need to get our stories straight? I could have kidnapped you and landed the _Pearl_."

"No, Thanks anyway. I will tell them exactly what happened, it's best. As for yourself, you're a free agent."

"Perhaps this Locardum business is finally over," Katey said, shrugging her shoulders, shaking her head.

"Well, you have a farm to run."

"True, different, not as exciting, but safer."

Within the hour, a mid-sized Space Corps cruiser appeared alongside and sent a skiff across to the _Pearl_. Soon, the cockpit was crowded with people. Medics attended to Percy as the security watch captain spoke to Scrivvens and Katey.

A seriously injured Space Corps pilot, a blasted utility bot, a woman who looked like a man, and a Police Corps inspector was enough for him to repeatedly rub his forehead. That Percy had been picked up in a field on Kaznac after having ejected from a secretive bombing raid soon caused a red line to appear above his eye.

"Sir," his assistant said, handing him a holo page.

"Well, inspector. I have an order from Police Corps Commissioner Mourge. You are under arrest for dereliction of duty, being in Non-Association territory without permission, misuse of Space and Police Corps property."

Scrivvens stood still, stunned, and concerned. "Arrest?"

"Inspector, please put out your hands."

A pair of beam cuffs were applied before he could say anything else.

"You will be taken to our brig and handed over to Police Corps at our next port of call. Your utility bot and all its components," he said reading the order, "is to be destroyed."

Katey's eyes darted around, "Sir, this must be a mistake, he saved the life of the Space Corps pilot as well as my own. I am ex-Space Corps myself."

"Well... er... miss, this comes from high up, there will be no arguments."

As Katey listened to the reply, she coughed and placed a hand over her mouth. Leaning into Scrivvens, she shoved her other hand into his pocket and retrieved the box containing Delta's memory tubes.

Scrivvens, aware of Katey's movements, stayed still.

"Place him in the skiff."

"Scrivvens," Katey said, "In case I don't see you again, perhaps one day we can meet up and reminisce about Delta."

His eyes darted down momentarily, then smiling, he said, "I would look forward to that."

He was led away.

"As for you, miss, I have an order for you. Being a wanted person, you are to be arrested and dropped off at the nearest Police Corps building. Attached to the arrest notice is an official document from Commander S'Tr-Hert detailing the terms of your pardon. I can't be bothered to read it. Police Corps can sort that out. When you are ready, miss."

"May I say goodbye to Percy?"

The watch captain rubbed his brow, "Seeing as you are ex-Space Corps, I don't see the problem." He nodded to his assistant.

Laying on the bed in his underpants, the subject of various medical procedures from the medics, Katey pushed her way in.

His face was covered in a mask.

"Hey, Percy, if you can hear me, hope you make a good recovery. Perhaps if you need to convalesce, I have a quiet farm available."

There was no reply.

"Well, all the best, Percy."

She squeezed back into the cockpit and lifted her wrists for the beam cuffs to be applied.

"I have some personal items on me. Will they be safely stored after I am searched?"

"Yes, miss. All property will be returned upon release."

"Good. If nothing else, I'm looking forward to catching up on some sleep."

### Chapter 20

"I have organised everything, sir," Regg said.

The Tinker shuffled in his seat, rubbing his belly, his face showing discomfort. "Go on."

"The evaluator is on his way through space towards Kaznac and the town called Leth. Attack ships are escorting him. Our leviathan fleet is on the edge of Kaznac space with crews at readiness. They are scanning for freighters, Space Corps, and anything out of the ordinary."

"Bloody Smiler. Probably playing us around and considering moving the ore somewhere else."

"Standby, sir," Regg said, tension in his voice.

The Tinker sipped on a minty drink and swallowed some tablets.

"Update. Space Corps recently boarded a small craft, just within Assoc space. Our researcher ran a simulation from where the craft ascended from. It was somewhere in the Farmlands many kilometres from Leth. There are reports of weapon activity and explosion damage to local buildings."

"A raid attempt? Has Smiler fought his way out, do you think?"

"Something appears to be happening, which is out of character for that area. We mustn't forget that the Montil woman and Sturlach may be making separate bids for the Locardum."

"What do you suggest?"

"Continue investigating and keep scanning for freighters. There may have been a snatch and grab. Also, we'll send the evaluator to the agreed location in case none of this is relevant. He will soon know if anything has happened."

"Good work, Regg, we may yet get our hands on it." He burped. "Cancel the doctor again, I'm suddenly feeling better."

***

Since speaking to Mourge, Brune had hardly slept and his stomach constantly churned. His wife had barely talked to him after he told her about his demotion. She spent most of the day speaking to her mother. He tried to listen in, but when he heard, "It's all that blue woman's fault," he gave up and skulked into his office.

Unable to concentrate on anything, he fumbled about with work documents. A message blipped onto a screen. It was unreadable and scrambled. Not by encryption, but from poor quality signals and inefficient relays. Only three things made sense; "Scriv", "success", and the timestamp.

A quick check on a time calculator suggested it had taken over two hours to arrive. He leaned forward and drafted a reply.

Scrivvens, I hope this finds its way to you and that everyone is safe. I gather you were successful? Your message was scrambled. Mourge has ordered your arrest, my demotion, and Brell back to prison. The bots are to be destroyed. I knew of this earlier, but in truth hesitated about telling you. I apologise for that, but with everything going on I did not feel you needed any distractions. I cannot emphasize my admiration for everyone's efforts in a dangerous situation. Commander Brune S'Tr-Hert.

His fingers shook as he wrote to Brell.

Brell, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but...

### Chapter 21

"Fuck that frackfucking bastard fragger," Brell said on entering the cockpit. Her gaze wandered over the panels and screens. "I've just received a message from Brune. Scrivvens is to be arrested and Brune is being demoted to sergeant."

"And yourself?"

"Recall to prison." She sat in the co-pilots chair and lit up a smoke tube. "You're for the scrap yard."

Making no reaction, Lottie continued monitoring the Lulu's engines.

"Brune's attempt to show Scrivvens performing an admin job instead of helping us failed. Mourge and his bloody vendettas, we've handed it to him on a plate. Despite the fact we secured the ore."

"What should we do?"

"We could open up the cargo hold and let the ore carts float off into space or run away. Sooner or later, Space Corps will catch up with us."

She lapsed into silence for a while.

"I'll reply to Brune later, can't be doing with it now. I'm worried about not hearing from Scrivvens. Suppose we'll find out more when we land."

Once the engines were balanced, Lottie activated the Lulu's space folding technology. Leaning forward, she stared through the windscreen to watch golden streaks of space dust flow over the bow.

"Entering space lanes," Lottie said. "Keeping it steady on the inside lane."

Brell lit up another smoke and reclined her chair. She put her feet up on a console and blew smoke into the air.

Lottie held out a hand, which Brell held for a moment. "At least you'll get regular meals in prison."

"And you'll become a piece of sheet metal, nailed over a shed."

An urgent beep sounded.

"Incoming message."

"Heave over and standby to be boarded," a guttural male voice said.

Brell sat up. Alert now, she examined the scanner and screens. A craft was speeding towards them on a collision course.

"Accelerate," she said firmly, her eyes glued to the screen. "The Tinker's gang."

Lottie brought up a rear-view camera; the hull of a large cruiser appeared on screen.

"They are firing."

"Full throttle, Lottie."

The _Lulu_ reverberated along its central trim.

"Pull back, the engine imbalance is causing too much stress on the subframe," Brell said.

"They are gaining."

Laser fire flashed across the windscreen.

"Incoming message."

"Freighter, heave to, off the space way."

Brell let out a sigh on seeing the cruiser alongside them.

"Zigzag, put them off. I'll send an emergency message to Space Corps," Brell said. She held her seat as the _Lulu_ lurched to one side and dived in a downward trajectory.

To a background of straining engines and hull vibration, Brell tapped purposefully on a side screen. "Messaged Space Corps."

"Intercepted your message to Space Corps. Heave to, freighter." The male voice remained calm.

Two loud thunks sounded on the outside of the hull.

"Cargo freighter, we have attached our chains. Prepare for boarding."

"Shit. We're knackered, Lottie. They'll be scanning us in a moment. Save the engines and the hull."

Lottie set the autopilot.

Brell stood up, arms folded, and examined the cockpit.

"Going to be trashed," she said. "Lottie, I'll hide in the smuggler's compartment. You are a robot assigned to this freighter."

"Right."

"Listen carefully, Lottie."

Lottie stared into Brell's eyes.

"You have my permission to take any actions necessary. Buy time and keep options open. Try to get the _Lulu_ to land or release me when you think safe and we'll take our chances with the crew. Lie, fight, and kill if you have to."

"Understood," Lottie said.

Brell pulled up two shelves inside the wardrobe next to her cabin bed. She reached down, found the release catch, and slid open the door.

Installed by the original owner of the _Lulu_ , the cubby hole was high enough to stand up in and wide enough to lay down. Heavily lined with soundproofing and anti-scanner technology, it was ideal for the short-term hiding of people or illegal goods to deceive customs checks. She let out a breath on seeing the three bags of equipment, food, and essentials. A task she had casually asked Lottie to put on her list of things to do before setting off for Kaznac.

"Okay, this is it, for however long. Hopefully not a coffin."

Lottie placed a hand on Brell's shoulder as she stepped inside.

Brell turned around and sat on the floor.

"Ready?" Lottie said.

Brell nodded.

Lottie locked the door, replaced the shelves, and put back the clothes. She stripped out of her jumpsuit and underwear, which she folded and placed amongst Brell's. After putting on a maintenance style jumpsuit, she altered her appearance to that of a plain basic utility bot. Returning to the pilot's seat, she awaited her fate.

### Chapter 22

Lottie watched a skiff slide out of the cruiser's side bay. Propelling itself over to the _Lulu_ , it stopped one metre from the cockpit door. An interconnecting tube extended and sealed itself around the outer doorway.

" _Freighter. Standby. Do not make any manoeuvres. Do not attempt to fight back_."

Knocks and bangs sounded on the hull, followed by the sound of pressure escaping. The door opened a fraction and an object slid across the floor. Lottie bowed her head and placed her hands over her ears. The stun grenade burst into light, its percussion reverberating through the craft.

On hearing footsteps, Lottie stood up with arms by her side.

Three figures emerged through the wisps of smoke. Immediately, hands pushed Lottie to the floor and a rifle muzzle was pressed into her neck.

"Stay down," a muffled voice said.

Lottie watched the boots of the other two people as they disappeared into the other rooms.

"Clear."

"Masks off."

"Who is on board?" a male with a deep voice said.

"Just me, sir," Lottie said, speaking in a neutral tone. "Autopilot is currently activated."

Hands moved around her body from head to her ankles. "Hard-shelled robot. Nothing found."

"Stand up, robot."

Lottie stood up.

"What are you?"

"Hello sir, welcome aboard. I am a general assistant robot used for piloting, cockpit, and cargo work. How may I assist you?" Lottie said, smiling.

She swept her gaze across the three pirates, now that the smoke had cleared. They were dressed in dark blue combat clothing and boots. Each one held a short laser rifle in an alert stance. A large, imposing male was flanked by a thin male and a sturdily-built woman with cropped hair. Athletic in build, they each wore an identical multi-coloured stud in their left ear.

"Chiva, pilot seat. Oonie, scan the rooms," the large male said. He looked back and forth as he spoke.

"Fanx," the thin male said, nodding to the large male. He pushed Lottie to one side and slipped into the main pilot's seat.

Oonie fetched a handheld device out of her pocket. She held it in front of her and pressed a button as she entered Brell's cabin.

"Checking systems," Chiva said. "One engine deficient. No devices or fail-safes. We're good to fly."

Oonie returned to the cockpit. "A double-bedded cabin, galley kitchen, bathroom with shower. No signs of any others or robots," she said in a deep but feminine voice.

Fanx, still gripping his rifle, approached the back of the pilot's seat. "Cargo hold?"

"Here we go," Chiva said. A screen blinked on.

"Robot, what is in those trucks?" Fanx said. He stepped forward and poked Lottie in her chest with his rifle.

"A rare ore called Locardum, sir," Lottie said.

Fanx laughed and rubbed his chin. "Robot, you have saved yourself from destruction. Hear that Chiva, Oonie? We've struck gold. Confirmed here by our honest robot. Good work team."

"Now, as for you," he slapped the side of Lottie's head, "stay out of the way. Do not try anything, or I will shoot you. Go and sit down over there." He pointed to one of the crew seats.

Patting Chiva on the shoulder, Fanx said, "Update the cruiser with the news and tell them to repatriate our skiff. Travel back into a space lane, take it easy, no speeding. We are a normal freighter doing its freighter thing."

"You got it," Chiva said.

Lottie watched the pilot's confident hand movements over the controls. He paused until the skiff was confirmed as having returned itself to the cruiser. Slowly accelerating, he piloted the _Lulu_ back towards the main space lane.

"Oonie, scan the robot."

Oonie approached Lottie and slapped her on the head. Leaning forward, Lottie gazed at the woman's boots whilst a scanner was pressed into the back of her neck.

"Basic robot, no reports on its identity number," Oonie said.

Fanx examined a personal screen on his wrist. "Robot, where is," he paused, "Brellinane Sturlach, a blue-skinned woman?"

"She is not on this craft, sir."

A muzzle was pushed hard into her cheek. "Tell me more, bot."

Lottie responded quickly. "Miss Sturlach jumped on board a colleague's ship after the raid on a farmhouse, intending to join this freighter later in space. She has not appeared, something must have happened to her."

"This is an order, robot. Is," Fanx looked down at his screen again, "Sturlach hiding on board."

"No, sir."

Lottie showed no response as Fanx examined her face.

Hands grabbed her and forced her forward onto her knees. The sole of a boot kicked her in the back, making her fall forwards onto the floor.

"Again. This is an order, robot. You must answer with the truth. Do you understand?"

Fanx placed his boot on the side of Lottie's head.

"Yes, sir," Lottie said.

"Is Sturlach hiding on board? And that includes the cargo bay."

"No, sir."

"Do you want me to shoot it now?" Oonie said.

"Not yet, may be of use," Fanx said.

"May I speak?" Lottie said.

"Quickly."

She sat up. "Sir, I am cargo hold trained and can assist you in unwrapping and hauling out the ore trucks. I can also provide refreshments and food to your crew."

"Food may be better here than that shit on board the cruiser," Chiva said from the pilot seat.

Fanx wiped his forehead and smiled. "Get up, robot." He knocked fists with Oonie and Chiva. "This is the team," he said, his voice showing relief. "If they've got a pleasure den at our landing place, then I'm buying the first round." He leaned towards Chiva. "Now to a small bit of business. Send a message across. Tell them there's only a robot pilot on board, as the blue-skinned woman is with Space Corps. Ask them for our destination."

"On it, boss," Chiva said, duly flicking through the Lulu's comms channels.

Lottie sat upright and lowered her pain threshold settings. Leaning forward a fraction, she looked into Brell's cabin. Fanx was kneeling on the floor, running a hand under the bed. He stood up, opened the wall cupboard, and searched through the shelves.

"Excuse me sir, madam, may I offer you a drink or snack?" Lottie said in a loud voice, as much for Fanx's benefit as Chiva and Oonie.

"Got any beer?" Chiva said.

"I can manipulate the autochef to provide it, sir," Lottie said.

"Oonie, a beer?"

"Yup," she said.

"Would you like a drink, sir?"

Fanx appeared and pushed Lottie out of his way, his face disgruntled. "Juice."

"Sir," Lottie said.

She entered the galley and inputted a security code into the autochef. A code which Brell could not work out, despite many attempts. Serving Fanx first, Lottie dawdled next to Chiva and gazed at the location map.

"Standby," Fanx said, examining his screen. "Got the landing site location, passing it over. We've been there before. Tinker's experimental base. It has a pleasure den for employees."

"I've got the coordinates," Chiva said. He turned and scowled at Lottie. "Piss off."

Lottie sat in a crew seat.

"Should take us about twenty hours to reach our destination," Chiva said. He took a long swig of his beer. "This is a sweet ship, makes a change from some of the buckets we've been on. Hey, Oonie, think of the amount of punani you can buy with our reward."

"Yes, indeed," she said, froth on her top lip. "We deserve it after all the bollocks the Tinker has put us through."

"Let's make ourselves comfortable. But Chiva, constant scanning for Space Corps, please. And not too much beer, need to keep alert. We can drink buckets of it when we land. The load of rocks is very valuable and we aren't paid until it is on the ground. Understood?" Fanx said.

"A-okay boss," Chiva said, placing both feet on top of a console. "Hey, robot."

"Yes, sir?" Lottie said.

"Are you a pleasure bot as well? Pilots need to be kept happy during a long voyage?"

"No, sir."

"Pity," Oonie said.

"Getting an itch?"

"Been flying on automatic with all the waiting around for the last few weeks."

"If you fancy a little bit of male company, I can oblige."

"In your dreams."

"We'll take it in turns to rest in the cabin," Fanx said, "I'll go first. Can I leave you two sexual frustrates alone for a while?"

"Sure thing, captain."

Lottie watched Fanx make himself comfortable on Brell's bed by propping his back against the headboard and scuffing his boots on the top sheet. He examined a wrist screen and closed his eyes, his hands holding his rifle. Apart from a pistol in a thigh holster, Lottie saw no other weapons on him, though his fastened side pockets bulged. She allowed her gaze to pause on the wall above his head and Brell's hidey-hole beyond that.

After becoming motionless for a while, she lifted her head and tried to view the star map, but Chiva had turned it off.

"Hey," Chiva said to Oonie, who sat in the co-pilots seat, "think old Fanx will have himself punani or lingani this time?"

"With our reward, probably both. One after the other. He likes to keep it separate, as a distinct experience," Oonie said.

"How do you know?"

"He told me," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Oh well. I'll drink to that," he lowered his voice, "Hey robot, another beer."

"Yes, sir."

Chiva leered at Lottie as she returned. "What sort of body you got inside that jumpsuit?"

"I have a hard-shelled female-shaped body, sir, but no genitalia."

He grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him. Running a hand over Lottie's backside, he winked at Oonie. "May take a look later."

"Going to water the horse," Oonie said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Once released from Chiva's grip, Lottie sat down with her hands on her lap.

***

Brell stood up to stretch her aching legs. She bent her thighs to keep the circulation flowing whilst flexing her head and shoulders. Next, she stretched her arms in front of her and twisted her spine. The soft glow from a power bulb gave some comfort within her soundless cocoon. Taking a few slow breaths, she was aware of the temperature becoming warmer. She hoped the small air scrubber in the ceiling would not break down.

From the vibration of the engines through the floor, she knew the craft was at full speed towards its destination, wherever that was. How long their journey would take and what will happen when they land was too difficult to gauge. It didn't bear thinking about, what with the recall to prison. She just had to stick it out as best she could and be ready at a moment's notice. The small pistol inside one of the bags was insufficient for fighting a presumably heavily armed gang.

She knew Lottie would play stupid and assist when asked. Though, underneath, her circuits would be calculating all manner of scenarios. Hopefully, she will still be activated when they land. They could make a fight of it then.

Laying down, she propped herself on an elbow and rifled inside a bag. She found the piss pouch instructions in case the StopPee tablets didn't work. Finding the sleeping drops, she considered whether to drink one. It would be many hours before they reached a likely destination.

She tipped the small phial of liquid on her tongue. Tilting her head back onto a bag acting as a pillow, she closed her eyes.

Her mind wandered, as it normally did before falling asleep. As ever, she thought of Gorst, lying dead in the hotel room after their conception ceremony. She tried but failed to substitute that memory for one of him relaxed and laughing the day before it happened. Next, she considered her son growing within his birthing chamber, innocent and cocooned. At least he would survive now, especially since Smiler was dead.

Relaxing, she felt the effect of the liquid kicking in. With the warm air and the sensation of the Lulu's engines, she was soon asleep.

***

"Good news, sir."

The Tinker shifted his backside on the sofa, his eyes alert.

"Locardum found in the hold of the blue woman, Sturlach's, cargo freighter, deep in space. Commandeered by Fanx's crew and is on way to our secure location, sir."

"Wonderful, Regg, wonderful. Any news from Smiler?"

"No, sir. It is presumed he is still on Kaznac."

"He can stay there for all I care, for the rest of his life."

"A sharp-eyed observer re-examined a recent scan and plotted the path of a freighter. It had appeared from an area of the Farmlands without a nearby spaceport. This links in with the small craft boarded by Space Corps. And it was in the same vicinity to where our evaluator was heading. Who, by the way, did not receive any further communication. The blue woman, Sturlach, owns a similar style of craft, hence Fanx's team being scrambled."

"Good job; reward them and their support crew, Regg." He reached for one of his favourite pipes and loaded it full of an aromatic weed. He took a few satisfying puffs.

"Regg, please pass on my regards to Craig. Buy him something expensive will you, on my behalf."

"Thank you, sir. He will appreciate that."

"Don't say it often enough, Regg, don't know what I'd do without you here."

Regg unusually looked up from his screens for longer than a second. "Thank you, sir."

### Chapter 23

The _Lulu_ sped on its way, uninterrupted by Space Corps or other freighters.

Fanx returned from his nap and forbade any more beer to be drunk. Once again, he poked around inside Brell's cabin, the galley, and the bathroom. Studying every nook and cranny he held his rifle in the ready position.

At Fanx's request, Oonie performed another scan. "Nothing has changed," she said.

Fanx grunted. "Get some rest. Leave the door open in case of any alerts."

"Yeah, it's to stop you playing with yourself," Chiva said.

"Hasn't stopped me before," Oonie said on entering the cabin.

"I'll be glad when we land so you two can release your tensions."

Lottie sat forward and watched Oonie lay her rifle on the bed. Taking off her jacket, she dropped it on the floor. She put a hand over her pistol holster as she swung herself onto the bed. After placing her rifle onto her jacket, she lay back and prodded the pillows as she tried to settle.

Lottie listened to a conversation between Chiva and Fanx. All they talked about was previous jobs, credits, and women.

Oonie inserted a hand down the front of her trousers, scratched herself, and rolled on her side away from Lottie.

Lottie stood up as the two men remained chatting and staring through the windscreen. She stepped inside the cabin and flicked her gaze between the rifle and the back of Oonie's head.

Two more steps brought her within grabbing distance. Turning, she listened for any signs of movement from the cockpit. Oonie's feet moved as she pressed her head into the pillow.

Lottie stooped, reached forward, and readied herself.

"Robot, what are you doing?"

She stood up, hands by her side.

It was Fanx.

"Sir, I was concerned that Miss Oonie was having difficulty sleeping and wondered if she would like a tablet or water. I have a certificate in massage and can offer that service, as well. She appeared tense."

He grabbed a handful of Lottie's jumpsuit and threw her up against the wall. She followed his stare as it rested on Oonie's rifle. He thrust a pistol into the side of her head.

"I'm all for putting this robot out of its misery, now. Can't afford to take any chances."

"Sir, if the wrong buttons are pressed, the cargo hold will open and the load will float out into space. Also, I can assist with unloading the cargo safely. Then, I understand that you wish to terminate my functions."

"Fanx, hold on. We may need the robot's technical knowledge during the journey. Once we are down, then poof," Chiva said, making a firing motion.

"I agree. Plus, I could do with a massage," Oonie said.

Fanx tightened his grip on Lottie's jumpsuit and glared into her face. "I don't like you, robot, I don't trust you, and I look forward to destroying you."

"Yes, sir," Lottie said.

He pushed her up against the wall, then released her.

"From now on, no weapons unguarded near this bot." Fanx stared at Oonie and Chiva, who nodded back.

He stomped out of the cabin as Oonie and Chiva exchanged a glance.

Oonie sat up and brushed her head. "I sure as shit can't sleep."

"Madam, I can massage your shoulders and neck to relax you, if that helps."

"Chiva, take my weapons and go sit with Fanx, would you?"

"Sure thing, Oonie," Chiva said.

He gathered up Oonie's rifle and took hold of her pistol.

"Madam, if you would like to lie on your front and bare your shoulders. With your permission, may I go to the bathroom? There is a small bottle of oil that I can use," Lottie said.

Oonie nodded and started to unfasten her shirt.

On returning Lottie saw Oonie laying on her front, wearing only her trousers and boots. A large tattoo containing symbols and eccentric designs was emblazoned across her back.

"Robot?"

"Yes, madam?"

"I want you to sit astride me and use both hands, do you understand?"

"Yes, madam."

Lottie hitched up her jumpsuit and swung a leg onto the bed and then over Oonie's body. With her legs stretched wide, she placed her knees on either side of Oonie's chest and sat back onto Oonie's buttocks.

"Is that comfortable, madam?"

"Yes."

As she worked her fingers, she noticed and felt several long thin marks running across the centre of Oonie's wide, muscular back. Two ugly round scars below a shoulder blade were still in the last stages of healing. Using her thumbs, Lottie slid over and around the rough skin.

"Bullet holes," Oonie said. "Feels good, robot."

"My massage skills are often requested by the freighter crew, to relieve the boredom of long-distance journeys."

"Thanks," Oonie said, at which point, Lottie felt a hand stroking her thigh.

After a few minutes of intense muscle work, Lottie rested her thumbs into the top of Oonie's spine and brought her fingers round to enclose her throat. Feeling a pulse, she stared at the wall behind the bed and closed her eyes.

Gradually, she constricted her hands.

Oonie's pulse became rapid.

Lottie maintained the pressure as Oonie coughed.

Slowly opening her eyes, Lottie bowed her head and released her fingers.

"Sorry, madam, I was a bit too hard."

She continued massaging with her thumbs, rotating them up into the hairline, the short hair slicking under the oil. Finally, she made large hand strokes across Oonie's back.

"Very nice," Chiva said, appearing in the doorway. "Are you going to turn over for the full service?"

"Shut up, Chiva," Oonie said, her voice relaxed. She opened her eyes to look at him.

"Madam, I have finished, and will leave you if you wish to sleep."

"See, somebody appreciates me," Oonie said.

"I'll leave you two lovebirds to it," Chiva said.

Lottie pulled a bed sheet over Oonie, and after asking permission, went into the bathroom to wash her hands.

"May I offer any refreshment?" she said to Fanx and Chiva as she looked at the console screens.

"Shut up and sit at the back," Fanx said.

An hour later, Oonie appeared at the doorway, fully dressed. She collected her weapons from Fanx.

"Chiva. Your turn. I need you fresh for the final descent," Fanx said.

"Got it, boss," he said, handing his weapons over to Fanx. "Auto pilot is on, should not be any problems. Robot, I need a massage. Get in the cabin and wait." He winked at Oonie.

"Yes, sir."

Lottie watched as Chiva walked in. He stood by the cupboard, rifled through some clothes, and selected one of Brell's favourite t-shirts. Without any embarrassment, he lay on the bed and pulled his trousers and underpants down to his knees.

"Now, robot, I require a proper massage with that oil."

"Yes, sir," Lottie said.

He lifted up his shirt and lay Brell's t-shirt over his lower stomach. "I presume you know what to do? Or do you need instructions?"

"Sir, I am familiar with the movements involved."

Lottie sneaked a quick glance at the wall before picking up the oil bottle.

"Good." Chiva lay back, hands behind his head, and smiled. "Now, take it nice and slow."

***

Later, Lottie sat in a crew seat, hands in her lap and topped up her power. Unable to discern the Lulu's current location or destination, she leaned forward and stared into Brell's cabin. The bedsheets were rucked and her clothes and personal items were strewn over the floor. Brell's soiled t-shirt lay discarded on the bed.

"Thirty minutes to destination," Chiva said.

"Standby," Fanx said, and, slapping Lottie on the head, went into Brell's cabin.

Re-appearing two minutes later, he said, "Chiva, you should have the exact landing co-ordinates coming through."

"Boss."

Lottie saw a planetary body or moon looming large in the windscreen.

Descending into the atmosphere at a swifter rate than Lottie would have preferred, the _Lulu_ swiftly de-accelerated and landed with a heavy bump.

"Struts locked. Unlocking cockpit door."

"Oonie, bring out the robot and put it in the hold. Stay with it, I still don't trust it. Any problems, shoot it," Fanx said.

"Boss," Oonie said, pushing Lottie with her rifle butt.

The sky was a hue of pink, with no other planets or moons apparent. The ground's surface was pitted and rutted. It was covered in dust and metallic shards, which crackled underneath Lottie's boots.

A two-storey control tower was on one side of the landing strip. Barren expanses of flat ground and low mountains ran behind it into the distance.

The other side was more interesting to Lottie. Rows of dilapidated low-level buildings filled the area, which was a few kilometres wide and long. Tall tower blocks lay at the back. It had the appearance of an abandoned space field. Beyond that were low mountains and a pall of black smoke, which hung in the air.

A procession of transporters, lorries, and vehicles were working its way along outer roads towards them.

Standing inside the cargo hold, Lottie examined the ore trucks. She ran a hand over the zero-g wrapping. Each load was intact rather than scattered over the floor.

"Here they come." Fanx smiled broadly. "Once they take it, our job is done."

Chiva and Oonie knocked fists.

Lottie stood next to Oonie as the vehicles arrived. One of them consisted of a long transporter. Two lines of workers sat, facing outwards, on each side. Heads bowed, their clothes were imbued with brown ash. They waited until a gangmaster, with an electric baton hanging from his belt, blew a whistle, upon which they exited and stood in line. Another whistle sent them walking towards the Lulu.

"Robot, make sure they do it properly," Fanx said.

"Yes sir," Lottie said, walking back into the hold, and standing by the first truck.

She instructed the lead worker on how to remove the zero-g wrappings, then stowed each one in a cabinet. Next, she showed the workers how to uncouple the trucks. Oonie stood constantly at her side.

Lottie walked to the rear of the hold and opened a tool cabinet. She ran her fingers around the handle of a heavy-duty spanner.

"Robot, close the cabinet, let's go," Oonie said as she jabbed Lottie in the back.

Lottie gripped the spanner.

Fanx appeared.

He levelled his rifle at her. "Robot. Sort out the next truck."

Lottie released the spanner and closed the cabinet, securing it ready for space travel.

Eventually, the three trucks were loaded onto long transporters. The gangmaster blasted his whistle, signalling for the men to return to their seats.

Slowly, the line of vehicles trundled back along the road. A man appeared in a small transporter and gave Fanx two half-metre-sized square boxes.

Lottie heard Fanx make a series of communications which ended with the words "confirm delivery." He turned to the others. "Officially handed over. We just need to blow this craft and the robot."

"Pity, lovely to pilot," Chiva said.

"Oonie, get the robot inside the cockpit. Shoot the consoles. I'll place the first bomb in the hold."

"Do you want me to terminate the robot now?"

"Not yet, I've got a plan. Made the mistake once of shooting one to pieces, but a part of its brain still summoned help. We'll disintegrate it along with the craft. A little bit of creativity, don't you think?"

"Sure thing," Oonie said, pushing Lottie in the back. "Come on, you."

Once inside the cockpit, Oonie pumped three low energy bolts into the piloting consoles, which fizzed and popped. An acrid smell filled the air.

Fanx arrived, holding the second device, which he placed in the middle of the floor. Without warning, Chiva punched Lottie in the face, making her stumble and fall to the floor. Hands held her down while a length of chain was shoved around her ankles. Another length was looped through the handle of the bomb, and both ends were threaded into the ankle chains. Fanx adjusted his rifle and fired at the overlapping chains. The links melted and fused.

Lottie sat up, her hands resting on the floor behind her. Fanx activated a holo-screen.

"That's ten minutes. Ready?"

Chiva scratched his crotch and sneered at Lottie.

Oonie raised her rifle butt and struck the side of Lottie's head. Aware the blow lacked power, Lottie fell backwards, closed her eyes, and acted unconscious.

"Okay. The timer is set, let's go," Fanx said.

"Boom," Chiva said, his voice trailing off along with the sound of their boots.

A moment later, Lottie heard the main door being secured.

They had left.

### Chapter 24

Lottie sat up, her hands pulling at the chains. She shuffled her backside forward and examined the device. Without codes and screens, there was nothing she could do. She set her internal clock.

Nine minutes.

Pushing with her feet and hands, she managed to move backwards. The device and chains clanked across the floor. She grabbed the edge of the cabin's doorway and gained more traction with the soles of her boots.

Seven minutes.

Reaching the side of the bed, she twisted her body and pulled one of the remaining shelves off. She popped the door release mechanism and was rewarded with a hiss and large puff of stale, warm air.

"Brell, Brell," she said loudly, "Brell."

Brell lay on the floor, face to one side, asleep or unconscious.

Lottie shook Brell repeatedly. Reaching forward, she forcefully squeezed Brell's earlobe.

"Brell, wake up."

Brell moved her head a fraction.

"What?" Brell said groggily. "Where am I?"

"Brell, urgent, it's Lottie, where is your laser?" Lottie said, rifling through the bags at Brell's feet.

"Lottie, what's happening?"

Finding the pistol, Lottie twisted herself back onto the floor. She pointed the weapon directly at one of the chain links and fired a short burst. The metal fizzled, leaving behind a small indentation.

"Lottie?" Brell was wakening and trying to stand up.

Adjusting the laser settings, Lottie fired again; the sparks of molten yellow suggested success.

Five minutes.

Brell appeared, holding the wall to steady herself, nearly stepping onto Lottie's legs.

Ignoring her, Lottie fired at another link until satisfied on its weakness.

"Lottie, what is happening?"

"This is a bomb, I'm cutting the chain, and we have four minutes."

Now alert, Brell's hands went to the shackles, but pulled back on feeling the hot metal. Lottie fired again, sparks scorching her outer shell.

Brell kicked down repeatedly with her boot and stopped.

"Again," Brell said.

After another squeeze of the trigger followed by more foot stamping, the chain cracked.

"Weaken the other side. Long burst."

Lottie swung her knees over and fired at the back of the chains until the laser pistol ran out of energy.

Brell jumped up and down, forcing the crack to open wider. Lottie wrenched the metal apart, enough to wriggle out each ankle.

"Out, out," Lottie said, running out of the cabin.

Brell stumbled after her but stopped on seeing the damage to the piloting consoles.

Lottie grabbed her arm and bundled her towards the exit.

Two minutes.

Lottie guided a squinting and blinking Brell around the front of the _Lulu_ and aimed towards the control tower. Picking up the pace, they staggered together across the landing strip and reached the rear of the building. Lottie pushed Brell onto the ground and lay on top of her. She cupped her hands over Brell's ears.

A wave of percussive air was followed by a deep, ripping explosion. The upper storey of the control room shattered, raining shards of building fabric onto Lottie's back. Electrified zapping sounds emanated from the Lulu's position. Loud at first, the sound fizzled out. Eventually, it was silent, save for a light wind.

Rolling off Brell, Lottie stood up and brushed herself down.

"Brell, you okay?"

Face planted on the ground, Brell opened her eyes. "It's a dream, right?"

Lottie knelt and stroked Brell's head. "It's good to see you alive."

They stumbled around the corner of the wall to find out what was left of the _Lulu_. Lottie ensured they remained within the cover of the building, just in case Fanx was watching from a distance.

The whole vessel was destroyed, save for small fragments blowing across the ground.

"Bloody hell, there's nothing left."

"A two-stage bomb, I believe. First one rips the Lulu's fabric apart, then nanoplasma elements attach themselves to the shards and vaporise them," Lottie said.

Brell remained silent as Lottie put an arm around her shoulder. Brell reciprocated.

"Right, okay. Where are we?" Brell said.

"I couldn't access anything, they were suspicious of me." She indicated the sky. "Permanent twilight, orangey pink, suggests outer galaxy, do you think?"

Brell nodded, still studying the remains of the _Lulu_.

"I believe this is a disused space base or port, judging by the layout and support buildings. Cool, not cold, here, and gravity appears near normal. They unloaded the Locardum and trucked it out of view beyond the hills, towards where that cloud is hanging."

"Non-Assoc people?" Brell came back into the present.

"No, the pirates were definitely the Tinker's gang."

Brell nodded. "So we must be at one of his many criminal facilities."

Taking her arm off Lottie's shoulder, Brell coughed and held a hand to her mouth. "Any comms cubes or weapons?"

"No, they took everything off me."

"Crap, okay, then. We need to check those huts and keep ourselves hidden. You picked up a scrape mark."

"Oh," Lottie said, running a hand over her face, "Got hit by a rifle butt. It'll polish off."

"Let's move on. You can tell me what happened on board, whilst I was in that coffin."

Carefully picking their way past the remnants of the _Lulu_ , they headed towards the nearest building.

### Chapter 25

Brell woke from a fitful sleep believing she was still inside the _Lulu_. The ground was cold and lacked engine vibration.

Lottie leaned over. "It's fine, no one has seen us. No one nearby."

"Once I sat down, it all hit me. How long have I been asleep?"

"Six hours."

Brell stood up slowly. She rubbed her face and shook her arms, "Okay let's have a look around."

They studied their surroundings.

"So, we've numerous rows of bunkhouses, sheds, workshops, and offices." Brell pointed to the far end of the spaceport. "Tall tower blocks and multi-levelled structures. They," she nodded to a line of semi-circular reinforced structures a distance away, "look like hangars for attack craft."

"Abandoned long ago."

"With all its outbuildings for workers and families. It's what? About five kilometres from here to the end?"

"Yes, give or take."

Brell nodded. "Where did they take the Locardum? There's little sign of any chemical works or people."

"I believe the dark clouds in the distance are hanging over such a place."

Brell nodded.

"Wait." Lottie held Brell's arm. "Sound of vehicles nearby."

They flattened themselves against the wall of a hut and waited. Brell sidestepped to the corner of the building and listened.

"It's more than one vehicle. A spotter craft is up, can you see it?"

Lottie was right behind her.

"About a kilometre away, near the main roadway," Lottie said.

"Well let's find out what's going on. We may be able to steal some water."

Running between the rows of buildings, they gradually made their way towards the engine noise.

"Far enough. The craft could have all sorts of scanners. Come on."

Brell entered an oval-shaped bunkhouse and stepped over the rubbish strewn on the floor. She peered out of a glassless window and studied the service road running between the lines of buildings. Two vehicles were parked up. People stood with their backs to Brell, as if waiting for something.

Leaning out further she noticed more people grouped in a huddle. Some wore white coats and others a dark blue security guard uniform. A man was operating a camera.

She pulled back.

Quietly, she spoke to Lottie. "Odd. They look like a group of scientists and guards. It's being filmed, so something is about to occur. If we are careful, we could get closer."

"I can go first," Lottie said, taking off her jumpsuit.

As she walked over a door laying on the floor, she changed the colour of her outer skin to that of her surroundings. Though Brell could see Lottie's outline, the white and brown camouflage pattern matched the interior of the building. It would be convincing from a distance.

Brell followed behind, aware the voices were becoming louder.

Lottie pointed to a window and put her thumb up. A narrow cabinet was jutting outwards, resting on the window ledge. It provided Brell a measure of protection from straying eyes.

Placing herself further up from Brell, Lottie stood amongst shadows in the centre of the building.

Brell settled herself into position, scratched her backside, and waited.

A sweating, rotund scientist was addressing the crowd. Security guards glanced at each other with cynical, eye-rolling expressions. One man in a guard's uniform wore a white hat. He was the only one appearing to show any excitement.

"We are using a spare piece of Locardum, gained from a previous batch. I want to show you the power of this weapon and what a revolution it will provide to the scientific worlds. Weapons are first, of course, but think of the inventions still to be created." He stared at the other scientists.

He waved a hand in the air, and within moments, a truck pulled up from the main road. Six people were dragged out of the vehicle. Guards pushed and slapped them. Wearing tatty clothing, the prisoners were caked in soot. Their bodies were thin from arduous work. They stared at the group of observers before being pushed through the doorway of a hut and locked in. Brell could not see the rest of the building from her position.

"Get back, let him through," the rotund scientist said, in a loud voice.

A figure dressed in thick brown overalls, wearing a helmet and visor, clomped into the middle of the group. He was holding a modified laser rifle connected by tubes to a cumbersome backpack. Brell knew what was going to happen. A few months ago, the Tinker had unleashed this weapon on Police Corps, an incident which Gorst had responded to. Having seen images of the event and listened to Gorst's and Katey's accounts, this appeared to be a test firing.

Realising she was balling a fist, Brell steadied herself for what she was about to see. She knew she had to witness this terrible event. Lottie would be making an evidential record of it, as per the instructions in her Police Corps Investigators Manual.

The scientists and the now-interested guards stepped away from the rifleman.

"Ready." The scientist, his brow red and sweaty, nodded to the rifleman and patted him on the shoulder. He then scampered back a safe distance.

The expectant crowd became silent as only the screams and shouts of the prisoners could be heard. Sounds which made Brell close her eyes for a moment.

Planting his feet wide, the rifleman adjusted his shoulders, raised the weapon, and squeezed the trigger. A zap and a boom were followed by a loud _whoomph_ as the recoil jerked him backwards.

A torrent of laser energy erupted from the nozzle. It vaporised the shed, which disappeared into flecks of building fabric and body matter. It was there one moment and gone the next. Its power was equivalent to that of a large Space Corps weapon or very expensive industrial machine. Now, a weapon could be made, which a single person could operate, on the ground. Brell could not think of the death and mayhem it would cause.

Stifled, shocked laughs came from the observers, who remained unmoved. Many of the guards scratched their heads and stared at each other, wide-eyed. The man in the white hat clapped his hands.

Brell had seen enough, the hubbub of excitement and shock provided an ideal time to withdraw to a safer spot. She made it back to where Lottie had folded her jumpsuit and waited. A few minutes later, Lottie arrived.

"Nothing left of those people, except some ragged pieces of clothing. The news images and Katey's account didn't do it justice, it's a hell of a thing to see for real."

Lottie started putting on her jumpsuit. "I heard the large scientist tell the others that now they had seen the demonstration, they should know the consequences if anyone steps out of line. He then went on to talk about how important it was to follow his precise instructions whilst processing the Locardum."

Brell sat down. "That bloody Locardum, it's cursed, the amount of deaths already."

"What should we do?"

"We need to find out where we are and send a message. Action needs to be taken by Space Corps before they produce those weapons en masse. First, though, we stay here until those people have cleared off." Brell rubbed her fingers over her scalp, uncertain if she felt small spiky shoots of hair.

"You okay?"

"I've a headache and I'm thirsty. Took a hydration tablet a while on-board the _Lulu_. It's worn off."

"I didn't see anything of use, except the security guards drinking from their own water bottles," Lottie said.

Once satisfied the group had left the area, they moved stealthily past two rows of huts.

A vehicle's engine could be heard.

Brell ducked inside a hut and hunched down. "A patrol?" she said quietly. She strained her hearing. "Anything?"

"It's stopped," Lottie said.

Carefully, Brell stared over the window ledge. An open-topped security vehicle was parked between two huts. A male and female guard sat talking to each other until the male suddenly jumped out. He disappeared around one of the huts. The woman stepped out and entered the other hut. Her silhouette could be seen walking inside.

Brell quickly assessed the guards and their weapons hooked on their trouser belts.

Creeping outside with Lottie following behind, Brell made it to the vehicle. She glanced around, then nudged Lottie with her elbow and pointed towards where the male had traipsed off to.

He was whistling as he urinated against the side of the hut, his head turned away from Brell's position two metres away.

"I'll take him, you get the spray," Brell said in a faint voice to Lottie.

With that, she rushed at the guard and wrapped her arms around his chest. She dropped her weight, pulling them both onto the ground. Lottie was right behind her, reaching into the guard's belt.

Moments later, Lottie bent over the male's face.

"Spraying," she said, at which point Brell held her breath and pressed the side of her face in to the man's jacket. She felt his heart beating faster as he tried to struggle. His limbs became limp.

"Okay," Lottie said.

Brell released her grip and stood up. The male lay on his side, one hand still holding his penis. She grabbed the pistol from his belt.

"Leave him, he's out. We'll find the woman."

Brell crept back to the vehicle and into the adjacent building, which was seemingly an administration office. It was full of broken desks, strewn paperwork, stripped wiring, and storage cupboards. The woman had taken off her trousers and boots and was laying a pair of curtains on the floor. Her utility belt with pistol holder was draped over a battered chair.

Brell studied the scene. There would be concern if the man did not appear soon. The woman was humming to herself as she unfastened her shirt. As Brell neared, she could not stop the side of her boot clunking against a length of wood.

The woman spun around and went for her pistol.

Brell sprinted forward, the other guards pistol in her hand. "Don't move."

The woman continued reaching for the weapon.

Firing a shot into the floor, Brell stopped and levelled her pistol at the woman's face. With resignation, the woman stepped back.

"Lottie, take the weapon. You. Face me put your arms out," Brell said, in a strict voice.

As the woman moved her arms, her shirt fell open.

Brell studied the woman. She wore dark green issue underpants, bra, and socks. There was a confidence about her, and she showed no sign of embarrassment. Physically fit, the woman was capable of defending herself.

"You'll be dead soon," the woman said in a confident voice.

"Who from? Loverboy outside taking a piss?"

"Where is he?"

"Dead."

Brell noticed hesitation.

"Others will be here soon," the woman said, her gaze on overdrive looking at Brell, Lottie, and the doorway.

"Lottie, shoot her if she tries to run."

"Sure, boss," Lottie said, as she stepped beside Brell and brought up her newly-acquired pistol.

"Do you have a long-range comms device?"

The woman folded her arms and tilted her head, then turned and ran.

"Lottie, shoot."

There was a flash and a cry as Lottie hit the side of the woman's thigh. Brell sprinted. As the woman tottered in pain and slipped in her socks, Brell pulled her to the floor.

Despite the woman's attempts to push and roll, Brell had been in too many fights to let anyone escape from her clutches. Lottie appeared with lengths of cable and tied the woman's ankles.

Brell put one knee on the floor and other into the woman's spine. They fought with her whilst tying her hands behind her.

Letting out a breath, Brell stood up. "Check outside for any others and see if you can find any water," Brell said, nodding to Lottie.

"Sure, boss."

Brell found a chair and sat down. Gaining her breath, she rubbed her head and stared down at the woman trussed up on the floor. Dirt and bits of rubbish were stuck to her legs, but she remained silent.

Brell considered her priorities. Find out their location, call for help, and survive. The guard's uniforms, weapons, and vehicle would be needed, but killing them was a step too far.

She poked the woman's side with her boot. "Do you have a long-range comms device?"

As she turned her head to look at Brell, the woman spat dirt out of her mouth and wriggled her arms and legs.

"We landed near the mountains due to a power and mapping failure. Which moon, or planet are we on?" Brell said.

"You can go fuck yourselves."

Lottie returned with a couple of water bottles. Brell drank the whole contents of one of the bottles.

They rolled the woman onto her back.

"Finished playing around?" Brell said. "Where are we?"

The woman remained silent.

Brell leaned forward and pulled off the woman's socks. She checked the pistols setting, stood up and fired a shot into the floor a metre from the woman's head.

Fidgeting, the woman licked her lips. Brell placed a knee on the woman's ankles and pressed the weapon's muzzle against a toe, causing a circular skin burn. There was a cry of pain.

"Where are we?"

"Fuck you."

Brell rubbed the warm pistol barrel around the top of the foot. "I can start here and work my way up." She drew a finger along the shin and tapped the kneecap.

The woman responded by arching her back to move her arms. Brell stood up. Aware of the uncomfortable position the woman was in, she stepped back and walked away, motioning for Lottie to join her.

"Whilst I'm getting the information, can you strip lover boy of all his clothes and equipment? Spray him again. Leave him tied up, we'll stick him in one of these cupboards, but in the other building, like these." She pointed at a row of dark admin storage rooms. "Listen out in case we need to make a quick exit."

"Boss," Lottie said.

Sitting, Brell placed her elbows on her knees and stared at the woman, allowing the silence to build up. She intentionally studied the woman's face until gaining eye contact. Purposefully, she slowly moved her gaze along the woman's body to her feet and back again.

There had been a shift in the woman's eyes; a hint of defeat and resignation. Brell knew the feeling well, having been on the receiving end herself. She opened the second bottle and dribbled water into the woman's mouth, which she drank gratefully.

"Children?" Brell said

The woman tried to spit more dust fragments off her tongue. Brell gave her more water. "Not here; at home with my mother, a daughter."

"That's good. I have a son—well, he's due in a few months. Who was lover boy?"

"A friend. Work acquaintance. Gets lonely here."

Brell nodded.

"Where are we?"

"I can't tell you."

The woman turned her head away.

Brell leaned forward and touched the woman's shoulder. "Do you know that recently I was laying on a hotel bed, unable to move, naked, waiting to be raped? My partner was dead on the floor, murdered by my attacker. Do you think I want to be here?" She waited for a few seconds. "Okay, time for another laser burn."

The woman stared back at Brell and tried to shuffle her arms and legs.

"Nelpa three, it's a moon," she said with reluctance.

"Which part of the galaxy?"

"Outer Rim, nearest hub planet is Malun."

Brell glanced over at Lottie, who was folding a pair of trousers. She nodded.

"Who do you work for?"

"Part of the Tinker's empire."

"Who is this Tinker?" Brell said, averting her gaze.

"Someone who will pop your arse when he finds you."

"Is your base nearby?" Brell fingered her pistol.

The woman let out a sigh. "A fair distance. What are you going to do with me, kill me?" the woman said, her voice sounding more relaxed. "If you are, then get on with it. You'll never leave this place alive."

"I'll take my chances. As for you, well, being found here, like this, won't look very good. I presume your boss is that wanker with the white hat?"

"How do you know about him? Who are you? You don't look like slave workers."

"Slaves?"

"People who have upset the Tinker. They are put to work until pardoned or they die."

"What's underneath those dirty clouds?"

"A large compound, full of security guards. And that's where the comms equipment is kept. So you are fucked."

"It's a pity we didn't meet under other circumstances. You would have been a good fighter. You've picked the wrong lot to follow." Brell patted the woman's head.

She walked over to Lottie. "We'll secure lover boy first."

Lottie had stripped all the clothes off the male guard and sprayed him again. With Brell holding his ankles and trying not to stare at his flopping penis, they bundled him inside a storage room.

"Sock gag."

Brell stretched the socks, tied them together, and pulled them around his head and opened his mouth a fraction. After knotting the two ends, she checked he could breathe through his nose. Once his hands and ankles restraints were in place, they shut the door and wedged a length of wood against it.

"Right," Brell said as she walked out of the building. She quickly glanced inside the guard's vehicle. "Start button, that's good."

They returned to the woman. She had turned herself onto her front and was trying, but failing, to slither along the floor.

"Shirt off," Brell said.

She knelt on the woman's back, whilst Lottie untied the wrist restraints. One sleeve was removed at a time. They lifted her up, face downwards, without any protest. They placed her in a windowless storage room. Brell draped a curtain over the woman.

"Here," Brell said, dripping water into the woman's mouth, before applying a loose gag.

With that, she used up the male guard's unconscious spray on her, shut the door, and jammed it tight.

Lottie had folded the guards clothing neatly on a chair along with their utility belts. Batons, water, and rations were laid out on a rickety table top. Holding up a pair of trousers each, they checked the sizes against themselves. Due to Lottie's smaller frame, she put on the woman's trousers, shirt, and blouson jacket.

Brell sat and tried on both pairs of boots, eventually deciding on the man's boots. She finished by clipping on a utility belt and pulling at the peaked cap, which hid her head scar. She hung the woman's security pass around her neck and checked the pistol was secure.

"Right let's have a look at you," Brell said, standing in front of Lottie. "Change your face to the man. Good. Stay unemotional, and if spoken to, use a basic male voice." She slapped Lottie's shoulders.

They drove off slowly in the general direction of the security base. Brell sat in the passenger's seat, draining another water bottle whilst chomping on a stimulant oat bar.

"Well, I was expecting a proper scrap. Had to use a little of Smiler's technique on her. Diplomacy was not going to work with those two."

"And I had to ensure that the man's private parts did not get caught in his clothing when I was stripping off his clothes."

"That's called delegation, Lottie."

"I presume the couple were intent on having a secret sexual liaison?" Lottie said.

"A little bit of rumpy-pumpy with a colleague on a huge abandoned space field. Who would think that two strangers would stumble upon them?"

"They obviously had urges."

"You can't beat getting an urge every now and again, Lottie," Brell said, smiling to herself and staring into the distance. "It'll be a while until they are discovered. Until then, let's drive towards the base, see if we can find a way of contacting Space Corps now we know where we are."

"Okay boss," Lottie said.

"Keep it slow, we are on security patrol. Go up along this row and try to find the main track. If we see another vehicle, wave at the occupants."

### Chapter 26

They drove over a wide dirt track at the edge of the space field and headed through an area of shrubbery and lifeless trees. Before long, the land ahead flattened. After negotiating a curve, Brell told Lottie to pull over.

Positioned on a flat delta was a huge fenced compound with an assortment of buildings inside. Painted in camouflaged colours, it matched the surrounding browns and greens of the fauna perfectly. The brown-black cloud noticed earlier emanated from a building with two tall chimneys.

"Judging by the smell and the crap spouting out, that's a foundry. The Locardum must be in there for processing." Brell said. "This is a perfect location for Tinker activities."

"Look," Lottie said, pointing into the sky.

A transporter was in the last throes of its vertical descent onto a landing pad.

"An active space port, hopefully." Brell stopped speaking, her gaze went to the road ahead of them.

A security vehicle appeared.

"Heads up. Lottie, make like you are taking a piss."

Lottie sidled over to a tree, undid her trousers, and stared back at Brell.

"Look down at your hosepipe, not at me. And smile."

The vehicle slowed.

"Busting for a piss," Brell said to the driver, rubbing her forehead to shield her face.

The driver stared at her chest, put a thumb up, and continued his journey.

"They've gone," Brell said, watching Lottie walk towards her. "Do your trousers up."

They drove on the road, which ran along the side of the compound. Turning at the corner of the fence, they entered a hubbub of activity surrounding a landing area.

"Park up for a moment."

Brell took the opportunity to study the area. The recently landed long-bodied transporter was being unloaded. Utility bots buzzed around the cargo hold as a line of people were stepping out of the craft. Maintenance crews were attaching hoses and devices to intake valves. Around the edge of the landing pad, a small group of gang members, dressed in black, walked on marked pathways which ran in between maintenance buildings. A smell of engine exhaust, oil, and fuel hung in the air.

Brell squinted as she looked beyond the landing pad at a secondary landing area and parking lot. It was about a hundred metres further back and surrounded by a high fence.

"Looks like the transporter has brought in more slave workers," Brell said.

The people from the transporter were being forcibly marched by guards towards the main compound gate.

"They land the slaves nearby to the gate. Other craft probably use the space park. That's where the gang members came from. Let's go and have a look."

The space park was a highly secure zone, with a fully-manned security gate and surveillance devices. Inside was a mixture of cargo freighters, long-range attack craft, and general transporters. They drove around in a circle back to where they had stopped before.

"With the size of this place, I can see why there is so much security to keep it all in check," Brell said, rubbing her chin. "We can't do anything here, we'll have to try our luck inside."

Lottie drove carefully through the gate. The guard seemed more interested in examining if any of the new workers were women. He used his finger to count them through.

Lottie waved to the guard.

"Hey, have you given her one yet?" the guard said, talking above the noise.

Lottie nodded and pumped a fist back and forth.

"Good boy," the guard said.

They drove on.

As they entered the compound, Brell saw a series of cabins stacked on top of each other immediately on the left. The security officer wearing a white hat, whom Brell had seen at the weapon test, was talking animatedly to three guards. His neatly-pressed uniform could not hide his pudgy body. Gesticulating, he moved his hands and pointed at various buildings whilst prodding a hand-held screen. The men nodded their heads. For a moment, Brell saw him eyeing up their vehicle; she stared ahead as if not noticing him.

"Park over there next to the other security vehicle," she said.

They got out and walked slowly across the site.

After the security and administration cabins, there was a tall residential tower block. Beside this was an unimaginatively named "Community Centre." Brell swivelled around and took in the other side of the compound. A square, modern-looking building with people in white coats entering or leaving was near to the rear fence.

"Scientists and experiments," Brell said.

She stopped to examine the foundry. Brick built, its two chimneys chucked out dirty brown smoke. Brell could feel the soot in her eyes. Crashing, banging, and machinery noises came from inside. A high safety mesh fence ran the length and width of the foundry. Three ore trucks were positioned outside a loading door. They were empty.

"Locardum trucks over there. That confirms it."

They continued walking.

"Could be a few hundred people here, at least," she said. "Comms room in security is not an option. We'll go into the community centre first, see if we can find anything to communicate with. Keep your hat pulled down."

Entering the establishment with Lottie beside her, she stood to one side and sized up the place before taking a stroll. It was the obvious focal point of compound life. A drinking bar, shop, communication area, and pleasure den were all contained under a single roof.

Teams of gang members sat by the bar. Some were drunk and talked loudly. Others silently cleaned their weapons. Waiter bots wheeled or walked around, dodging punches. A shop selling all manners of necessities was next to the bar and a lounge beyond that. That area, Brell could see, was frequented by scientists and lab workers not wishing to rub shoulders with the rough crowd in the bar.

An arrowed sign pointed further inside. " _Pleasure Palace, this way_ ," it said.

"The pleasure den was mentioned many times on board the _Lulu_."

"Being a Tinker establishment, it will contain men and women who are basically sex slaves, I would think."

"And stolen or re-conditioned bots," Lottie said.

"Yes. But we must keep to our task. The slavery and everything else is for another day. We are here to send a message and get off this planet. So, act casual and relaxed, okay?" Brell said.

"Lead on, boss."

A female sat outside the pleasure den on a chaise longue, wearing stockings and suspenders.

"Want a quickie, officer?" she said.

Brell waved a hand to decline the invitation.

"No thanks, I satisfied my sexual urges last week," Lottie said before Brell's elbow dug into her arm.

The pleasure female did not hear Lottie's reply as her attention was drawn to the door being booted open from the inside. Oonie and Chiva spilt out. Drunk and grinning, they stumbled past Brell and made their way to the bar.

Lottie tugged at Brell's arm. "Two of the gang who boarded the _Lulu_. Oonie and Chiva."

"Where's the other one?"

"He likes to indulge himself with men and women. Separate, though, not at the same time."

"Nice to know about his sex life. Hopefully, he is enjoying himself and staying inside for a while. From what you said, he was a strong man. So, the other one made you polish his rocket?"

"That's him."

"They had an image of me, didn't they? We'll stay out of their way. Come on, I want to check over the lounge."

A few white-coated people were sitting chatting in the easy chairs. A row of seats with desks and media consoles were placed against an end wall.

Brell snatched a half-eaten sandwich from an abandoned plate and proceeded to eat it whilst activating a screen on a corner table. A message announced that off-site private messages were free. She logged onto an instant self-deleting account with the sound of raised voices coming from the bar area.

A waiter bot whizzed up to them, Lottie put her hand on its head and whispered quietly. Within thirty seconds, it returned with a tray of leftover food and two full glasses of water. The waiter bot remained at Lottie's side as she opened a small flap in her arm and plugged in a small connector proffered by the bot.

Used to Lottie's need to top up her power, Brell munched the food and drained the drinks. She concentrated on how to compose the message to Brune. She wiped her mouth and waggled her fingers before tapping on the screen.

_Hi,_ _Babyheart. Made it to Nelpa Three. Long journey, but everything is here. Shift hours are good. You should visit me very soon. Lulu_.

She sent it to Brune's personal stream address.

The voices from the bar were turning into shouts.

"Officers, don't you think you should sort out those ruffians?" a male voice belonging to an elderly scientist said. He sat reading a screen in contemplation whilst sipping at his drink in a long-stemmed glass.

Ignoring him, Brell kept her eyes on the reply screen.

From the sounds of smashed glass, a fight was starting.

"Officers, do your duty," the scientist said, huffing, and puffing.

"Important message, we'll be on it in a moment," she said.

An icon blinked. She let out a breath.

_Lulu. Love to see you again, I'm making arrangements now. Babyheart._

"Thank frig for that." Relieved, she stood up, the quarrel becoming impossible to ignore.

"Watch me and follow my lead," Brell said, tugging at her cap.

Chiva was kicking and shouting at another man, who was in a fighting stance waiting to land a punch. Oonie was cheering Chiva on.

"Punch him, the wanker deserves it," Oonie said, her face flushed.

Other gang members looked on with mild interest whilst continuing to drink. To them, it was just another dust-up.

Brell grabbed Chiva's shoulders and twisted him around. Her boots crunched on the broken glass.

"Do you want some?" he said.

Brell kneed him in the crotch, making him fall to the floor. Two security guards appeared from a side door.

"Sort him out. He's drunk and been fighting. Take him out to cool him off." Brell pointed to Chiva, who was rolling around holding his genitals. Brell spoke in an authoritative voice. The other guards grabbed Chiva off the floor and dragged his heels across the floor and through the door.

"Excuse me miss," Brell said, loudly, whilst grabbing hold of Oonie's arm, "Move over here, please, what is this all about?"

"He fucking swore at me and called me names, the fucker." She tried to point at the man whom Chiva had been fighting with, but Brell bundled her away.

"Now miss, allow us to escort you to your quarters so you may calm down."

Having reached the outside air, Oonie appeared to become more drunk as her legs wobbled. Brell and Lottie supported most of her weight. Oonie waved a hand towards the accommodation block.

"Policing is the same shit all over the galaxy, Lottie. But your man Chiva is not going to be pulling his pudding for a while, that's for sure. Let's hope this one may be of use." She nodded to Oonie.

"Wanking bastard," Oonie said, but made no attempt to struggle as she was led into an elevator.

"Floor? Room?"

"Sixty-one. Seven," Oonie said, with her eyes shut.

As they watched the ascending floor numbers, Brell stood slightly behind her in case Oonie vomited. The smell would be gut-wrenching in the enclosed space. Oonie's hot intox breath was bad enough, let alone her smell of sweat.

They found the room. Brell was relieved it was private, not a bunk in a dormitory.

"Key?"

After four attempts and constant grinning, Oonie managed to fetch a pass from a pocket. They shuffled her inside and flopped her onto a single bed. The room consisted of a cupboard and a separate bathroom with privy and shower. A window provided a view over the compound.

Two unopened duffle bags lay dumped on the floor. Nothing had been unpacked.

"Lottie, empty those bags. Anything useful, weapons, etc, put to one side. I'll search her pockets."

Brell proceeded to wrestle Oonie's jacket off her. This was made more difficult by Oonie's continual attempts to grasp her for a cuddle.

"I love you," Oonie said, her eyes remaining closed. She puckered her lips. "Give us a kiss."

Finding nothing in the jacket, Brell pushed Oonie onto her back and ran her hands around her trousers and down to the ankles. She found some credit chips and a small jolter hidden in pockets within the trousers. In the meantime, Oonie giggled and fumbled with her trouser fastenings. Giving up, she undid her shirt as Brell turned to watch Lottie.

As she turned back, Oonie reached up and pulled Brell's face down into her breasts.

"Please be gentle with me," Oonie said.

"I think you've found a new girlfriend," Lottie said.

"Talk about sweaty," Brell said on managing to extricate herself from Oonie's grip. She ran a sleeve across her face. "Oh, crap, she's just been to the pleasure palace."

Oonie managed to take an arm out of a shirt sleeve, the other was proving impossible to reach.

Brell shook her head, she had seen enough drunken behaviour over the years. This was no surprise. "Help me with her, Lottie."

Being careful where she placed her hands, Brell rolled Oonie over onto her front and dragged off the remaining shirt sleeve.

"Bullet holes, see," Lottie said, pointing to the two round scars.

"And whip marks, I believe. Our Oonie has a hell of a story to tell."

Brell leaned towards Oonie's face. "Listen, Oonie, it's time for sleep." She patted her back. "Time for sleep."

"You have lovely hands," Oonie said.

They placed her on her side and moved her body, arms, and head into a safe position and threw a blanket over her.

"Punani?" Oonie said.

"It's time to dream of punani."

"Okay," Oonie said, smiling.

Brell kept her hands on Oonie's shoulders and calmly talked to her. Within a short time Oonie relaxed.

To sounds of snoring, Brell picked at the collection of items Lottie had separated out on the floor. "Clothes, underwear, bathroom stuff, personal pleasure items, tablets, and energy bars. Good, a small pistol with no finger scanner, and what's this?"

She unrolled a piece of canvas to reveal three egg-sized objects. "Can't read the language."

Lottie examined them. "Non-Assoc language. They are personal grenades. Slide it here to set a timer."

"Illegal, but very useful," Brell fingered the slider and a small screen popped up. "Default is ten seconds. What's in those tablets?"

"Sleep, aggression, and sensual."

Brell nodded as she placed them in her pocket. She had taken all the tablets at various times in her life. The aggression tablets had given her a more forceful edge, particularly during Police Corps raids.

"That's it. She must have secured her high-powered weapons on board their craft. Hello, what's this?" Brell picked up a small pink teddy bear with a label around its neck. "It says, from Oonie to Lottie, nice massage, kiss kiss."

"It doesn't," Lottie said, turning on her heels.

"Of course it doesn't, look."

She held out the stuffed animal for Lottie to see. "From JW to Oonie dog, kiss kiss. Ha, ha," Lottie said.

Brell went over to the window. "Right, Lottie. I think we are better off staying in our guard uniforms, allows us to slip out of the gate. We can use the grenades as a diversion and gain access to the space park. Steal a craft and fly out of here."

Brell visited the tiny bathroom and sat on the privy for a few minutes, gathering her thoughts. She took her shirt off, turned on the shower and splashed handfuls of water on her face. Using a rough towel, she dried herself off whilst running a tap. The water tasted metallic, but she drank as many mouthfuls as she could stomach.

"Do you think Brune understood your message?" Lottie said.

"Yes. He will contact that fuckwit Mourge or Space Corps to ask them to make, at least, a reconnaissance flight."

"Contingency?"

"If security examines our passes closely, we're knackered. Plus, they must be aware of those two missing lovebirds by now. If our plan goes belly up, we'll hide out in the space field, in those huts unless we can steal a craft. We'll wait for Space Corps to get their act together."

They both continued to stare out the window. Brell studied the movements of laboratory workers, guards, and swaggering gang members. Slave workers were being escorted in two ranks to their work activities. The Locardum trucks had gone.

Brell ran her fingers along her head scar. "Someone will come looking for her, as well," she said pointing to Oonie.

"Do you want me to take off her trousers like those gentlemen on Kaznac?" Lottie said.

"You sounded a bit too enthusiastic there, Lottie. Sorry to disappoint you. We could tie her up or whatever, but she's not going anywhere and is of no use to anyone for a long time."

She noticed Lottie examining Oonie's face. "Did you want some retribution?"

"For some reason, I don't think it is needed with her. The two men, but not her."

"They would have had more than their trousers pulled down if they were here. We'll leave our sleeping punani queen alone."

Brell took a last glance out the window.

"Shit to fuck. That little security upstart with the white hat is inspecting our vehicle. One of his men is briefing him and pointing at the community building. Look, he's nodding his head and flinging his arms about. Bollocks, we need to move out now, before we get caught up here."

### Chapter 27

Brune re-read Brell's message. He glanced at the half-open doorway and listened out for his wife, in case she lingered outside.

_Hi,_ _Babyheart. Made it to Nelpa Three. Long journey, but everything is here. Shift hours are good. You should visit me very soon. Lulu_.

"Nelpa Three," he said aloud, whilst flicking through galaxy indexes, "Nelpa Three."

He found the moon, one of five orbiting a sparsely populated planet. Intelligence databases suggested the region was not known for much, except an interplanetary standoff, decades ago. It was the backend of nowhere.

He rubbed his forehead, then activated a new screen containing a galaxy map. Placing a finger on Kaznac, he ran it across to the nearest Association planet and then placed a second line from Kaznac itself to Nelpa Three. He created a third line from a point inside Association space, as if travelling towards a safe planet, and drew a tangent to Nelpa Three. With his little finger, he pressed an icon and a small programme popped up. Written by his son for a class assignment, it showed journey times for different craft between any two points in the galaxy. He tapped on the image of a freighter.

He nodded.

Before sending a message to Mourge, he re-read it and purposefully deleted the words, "Nelpa Three," but inserted the name of the main planet, Malun.

Locardum Urgent.

Sir, I apologise for disturbing you. Miss Sturlach has sent me a coded message. I believe her freighter, which contained the Locardum, was hijacked after leaving Kaznac space and taken somewhere near to Malun, a planet on the outer regions.

I am concerned for her safety, she may be in danger.

Commander S'Tr-Hert

He didn't have to wait long for a reply.

_Sergeant_ _S'Tr-Hert_ _. Since when did she get her hands on the Locardum? Why wasn't I told earlier?_

Since my last request for Space Corps assistance did not go as planned, they are unable to send a craft to that area. They are fighting illegal activity in another sector.

Their intelligence states there is little action of note on Malun or its moons. I suggest you stop worrying about Sturlach and instead concentrate on your new posting. Our intelligence services will find the Locardum. Then I'll send in professional people to deal with it.

Mourge.

He rubbed his face.

"Dearest, your transporter is arriving in ten minutes; you don't want to be late for your flight," his wife said from the door.

He shifted in his seat. "Yes, dear," he said, not taking his eyes off his screens. He stared at images of Nelpa Three and though he tried, he was unable to make the image larger.

He opened his desk and found an old image he had kept of himself and Brell. It was taken not long after he joined her shift on Grab. The planet, ironically, where the Locardum was discovered.

"Bruney?"

As his wife walked in, he quickly hid the image back in his drawer. He studied her and the suitcases laying by the door.

"It's Brell, she is in trouble."

"She's always in trouble."

"Dearest, this is serious. I believe her life is on the line."

"But you have orders to report to your new posting, there's nothing you can do to help."

Brune stood up and fussed with some papers on his desk.

"The lift to the spaceport will be here soon. You have to report for duty."

"For what duty? To be a desk sergeant again, dealing with crap in a shithole inner city, so I can keep up some sort of wage and pension contribution?"

"Bruney, you don't normally swear. You said you would work hard and re-apply for promotion."

"Gladys," he looked at her, "I'm not going. Mourge can shove his demotion up his backside."

"But dearest, the boys, the house, all those things?"

"Gladys, do you trust me?"

"Of course, Bruney."

"Well I am leaving on that transporter, but I will be travelling somewhere else. I won't be back in a while, and it will be dangerous. But I must go. No one else is helping out."

"I know when you can't be persuaded."

He gave her a hug and rubbed her arms. "It will be okay, I promise. An old work colleague needs my help, and I will not let her down."

"Yes, dear."

"When Police Corps contact the house, say that I am on my way to my new posting. That is all you know. Tell the boys, will you?"

"Yes, dear," she said, in amongst her tears.

A bell rang.

"Transport is here."

He gave her a long hug, picked up his cases, and left, leaving Gladys peering out of the window, drying her eyes.

Once in an empty waiting room at the spaceport, he ignored the departure boards for the deep space bus and took out his communication cube. Activating three screens, he read the notes he had made during the drive.

The first person on his list was Wanda. He found her personal contact address on a message Brell had sent him.

Miss Wanda, this is Commander Brune S'Tr-Hert, Police Corps, I am aware you are a friend of Brell. She is in danger. I need urgent transport from Elytia to a moon on the outer rim. I will commandeer a craft; can you pilot it for me? It is high risk, I understand if you are unwilling to get involved.

The replay came back.

Commander. Brell in trouble again? Myself and my pilot boyfriend, Wark, both want to help. We can share the piloting. I can travel to Elytia in four hours. Just thought, and with your permission, I will contact Commodore Xadian, retired Space Corps. He is my daughters Space Corps Cadet sponsor. He will relish any job which involves danger.

Wanda.

_Wanda. Thank you. Please contact the C_ ommodore _and bring him to Police Corps HQ, space dock reception. Brune._

A woman entered the waiting room, gliding a bulky suitcase behind her. She sat and started reading from a news screen. Ignoring her, Brune tapped a finger on his chin as he interrogated the Police Corps Transport Department.

_Captain, I am requesting a deep space craft be made available for my use. One of my officers has uncovered a security breach in sensitive Corps records. I must visit the facility immediately. Commander Brune S'Tr-Hert_.

It didn't take long for a reply.

Commander, _I have nothing suitable currently, suggest you contact Space Corps see if they have any spare craft available. Captain_ Keethley _._

Inputting the captain's name, he pulled up his personal record, one of the advantages of working in administration. The captain had spent more time behind a desk than doing any real Police Corps work.

Captain. Thank you for your reply. I noticed from your records that you have not been involved in front line Police Corps work for the last seven years. Taking into account Commissioner Mourge's policy of ensuring all staff keep up to date with current practice, I am writing to your line manager recommending you perform a three-month tour of duty at an inner-city Corps district. When would you like to travel there? Commander S'Tr-Hert.

Commander, _I have checked our manifests, there is one craft left available for you. I am getting it re-fuelled now. I must have overlooked it. Captain_ Keethley _._

Brune smiled to himself.

Thank you, Captain. I will be there shortly. I will have some experts with me. Commander S'Tr-Hert.

He purposefully did not mention withdrawing the message to the captain's line manager, which he never intended to send anyway. The captain, uncertain about his fate, would make sure the craft and crew were given full assistance.

To stares from support staff, Brune led Wanda, Wark, and Xadian across the landing pad, along with Captain Keethley, who personally walked them to their craft. Wanda, smoke tube between lips, wore her usual battered pilot jacket and trousers. Wark, a large-built man with a beard, followed behind her. Xadian strode along at the rear, bolt upright in his old Space Corps dark blue jumpsuit, a large green holdall in each hand. Dapper looking with his moustache recently trimmed, he had been compulsory retired from Space Corps when he reached seventy. He walked along with a grim but satisfied expression on his face.

The ten-person transporter with deep space range was used by middle management and staff for travelling to various Police Corps HQ sites to perform internal inspections and reviews. Comfortable with two pilot chairs, it had small but individual bunkrooms, three bathrooms, and a small cargo hold with utility bots. It was perfect for their needs.

"Thank you, captain. I will be reconsidering my message to your line manager due to your excellent service. You should be proud of your staff."

"Thank you, commander, I hope you and your experts," he looked at the ground, "have a comfortable trip." He saluted Brune.

"Wanda, I have the destination for you, when you are ready," Brune said, handing over a small holo-screen.

"Thank you, commander. A few checks first, and then we'll be off," Wanda said, placing a new smoke tube between her lips.

"Commander," Xadian said, his voice strong. "Much trouble at the destination, do you think?"

"Commodore, we should expect the worst, to be honest. I believe it is a facility under the control of a crime boss, full of tough fighting men and women."

"I've come prepared."

Xadian showed Brune his pistols, rifles, grenades, bafflers, stunners, and communicators, which were all somehow packed inside his holdalls.

"You certainly are prepared, commodore," Brune said, touching his Police Corps issue pistol on his hip.

"Now, commander, is this a Police Corps or Space Corps mission?"

"Commodore, I bow to your experience on space-related and special forces-style tactics. We both have the same objective in mind."

"Commander, I like a man who gets to the point. Right. I assume command of the craft until we complete our mission."

"The ship is yours," Brune said, finding a crew seat at the rear of the cockpit, and wiping his brow.

Straightening his back, the commodore fetched out one of his uniform caps.

"Mrs Spinney, when you are ready. It's time to get underway."

"Commodore," Wanda said.

"Carry on, pilot," Xadian replied, his eyes moistening.

### Chapter 28

Brell peeped out of Oonie's room and checked the corridor.

"It's clear."

They walked towards the emergency stairs and descended until reaching the first floor.

"Nearly at the bottom. Hold on, voices coming this way."

Before she could decide whether to walk back up or continue down, four people wearing white jackets pushed through the door. Their conversations ceased abruptly.

Brell held up a hand. "Security alert. A worker has gone missing."

"What again?"

"Identity passes," she said, fondling the top of her baton.

Four passes were held up, which Lottie examined carefully. She nodded back to Brell.

"Good. Follow me, I will escort you out of the building, to ensure things are safe."

"Thank you, officer," a male said in surprise.

Brell touched the peak of her cap in acknowledgement. She led them downstairs to the ground floor, where several guards were cramming themselves into an elevator. A young, fresh-faced guard who could not squeeze in, stood back to wait for the next one. The insults and abuse shouted at him were silenced when the doors slid shut.

As he frantically pushed the elevator button, Brell led the scientists outside.

Three guards stood with White Hat by the entrance to the community centre. Quickening her step, she placed herself on the other side of the group away from White Hat's gaze. Lottie did the same.

"Lead on," she said to the nearest scientist.

It was clear that they were heading towards the modern building as the group fished out their security passes. The scientists waved at Brell and Lottie as they went into the entrance. Brell stood for a moment and looked around. They were standing on a gravelly space between the science building and the foundry's fence.

White Hat was at least a hundred metres away, but she knew that he was securing the compound. Guard activity was increasing and there were queues forming at the main gate. They walked forward and studied their surroundings. "Lottie, White Hat is on to us. We have to get through the gate, it seems to be the only way out. Keep walking as if we are on patrol. Once he moves, we'll circle back."

A large, semi-dilapidated structure came into view. Located in the end corner of the compound; it was made of basic materials with narrow windows. Obviously intended for housing workers, it must have sunk their already downtrodden hearts when first setting eyes on the place.

Four guards waited outside the central doors as two rows of workers, heads bowed, plodded out into the open. A whistle was blown and they trudged along towards Brell and Lottie. With nowhere to hide or escape, Brell bit her lip and glanced around. White Hat, though a distance away, was pointing to the science block.

She nudged Lottie.

"Stand as if you are important, put a thumb in your belt, and swagger. We'll follow them," Brell said.

Lottie assumed the position.

Brell flicked a hand at the guards, "Helping out, overlapping shift today," she said, they nodded back. As the end of a row filed past, Brell fell into step behind, Lottie joining her. Her hope that the slaves were being marched out of the main gate were dashed when the group curled to the left.

They were heading towards the foundry.

Feeling there was no other option, they followed the workers through the fence gate and halted a few metres inside. She felt a prod from Lottie, who was nodding her head at two large, barrel-shaped vehicles parked against the foundry wall. A sign saying "water" was affixed to each vehicle. Armed guards sat on chairs nearby.

"Water?" Brell said.

"Could be a type of heavy water, to do with the manufacturing process," Lottie said.

Brell shrugged her shoulders. With the pipes and tubes sticking out of the wall above the tanks, it looked like a typical service and maintenance area.

A thick metal door slid open. The whistle signal was given, and the group moved forward. A door guard counted the workers' heads but paid no attention to anyone else.

They entered a wide anteroom. The guards proceeded to take off their utility belts and put on dull brown knee-length coats. They re-fastened their belts over the top. Brell grabbed a couple of coats from a wall hook and thrust one at Lottie. They were heavy, despite being made of a thin weaved fabric. There was no safety clothing for the workers.

Another door slid open and they marched inside. A wall of heat and gas together with a pall of acrid smoke greeted them. Loud pounding from an unknown source made the floor vibrate. It was a demon's workshop.

Two furnaces, shaped like large metal eggs, sat within sturdy cradles. Pipes of assorted sizes connected to the top and bottom of the assembly. A heavy door set in its middle was open. Resembling a mouth, it waited for its next feed. Like something from history books, a worker filled their shovel with ore and stepped forward. Turning their faces away from the intense heat, they flung the ore through the opening and into the furnace. The mouth clanged shut. A worker, standing to one side, operated the door lever as if their life depended on it.

Three large heaps of an indistinctive-looking ore lay a few metres away from the front of the forges. Two workers were perched on top of each pile with spades, balancing out the heap.

When the furnace doors were opened, Brell felt her lips and throat burning from the searing air. She was glad of the coat.

"Locardum?" Brell said.

"Must be. Three heaps, about the size of each truckload. Look," Lottie nodded over to some wide, muddy wheel marks, which ran from the furnace towards a closed side entrance. Two armed guards leant against the doors, chatting. "Truck wheels."

The group of workers whom they had followed fanned out. Each person took over a position, a shovel, or a lever from an exhausted colleague. A guard pushed and shoved the relieved workers into rows. He counted them off and waved at a colleague. A whistle was blown and the group, with heads and shoulders slumped, tottered towards the exit.

Brell considered joining the departing group, but the thought of White Hat made her hesitate.

Lottie touched her arm. "Heat, not good for my shell."

"If it's too much, fall down in a faint and I'll think of something."

The outgoing workers disappeared through the doorway, which slid shut behind them. Any opportunity to leave had been lost.

Watching the other guards admonishing the workers, Brell smacked her baton into her spare hand. Noticing the workers at the top of the Locardum pile nearest to her, exchanging a glance, she shouted out to them.

"Get on with your work. No talking," she said, pointing her baton at them.

The two men nodded, their faces fearful of further retribution.

A single note siren sounded.

Brell stayed still and stopped to watch. She walked forward and peered around the last heap of ore, noticing workers leaning on their shovels.

Nothing happened for two minutes.

"A pressured firing into the furnace, for an exact time at an exact temperature," Lottie said into Brell's ear. "The large scientist at that test firing went on about it. A deviation of temperature either way can render the ore useless."

"Hence the need for scientists, I suppose? That farming lot on Kaznac would have never been capable of producing this."

"Correct."

"Any beam or laser technology?"

"No, this is what you would call old school," Lottie said, studying the workings of the foundry. "They probably use gas, plasma, or similar to fire the furnaces."

The siren's tone changed to a lower reverberating pitch. A red-gold stream of liquid ran along two channels from the underbelly of the furnace. The ore flowed into a single wider channel and out of sight, into the far side of the foundry.

"Lottie, let's walk around the back of the heaps, should be cooler. Examine everything, we need to get out of here," Brell said loudly into Lottie's ear. Beyond the heaps, they followed the trail of liquid ore to see it flowing into square-shaped moulds set into the floor. Further on, there was a variety of noisy industrial machines and equipment.

A bell tone sounded, at which the workers filled their spades, ready to return to their drudgery.

They walked towards the rear half of the building and stood next to one of several metal pillars. At the back, furthest away from the heat, was a wide raised deck full of tables and monitoring screens. A bevvy of scientists buzzed around. The rotund scientist stood behind them, directing events. Sweat dripped from his brow as he gesticulated at a screen.

Brell rubbed her lips on seeing two exit doors through which scientists came and went. They were both manned by armed guards who checked passes with a hand-held device. She leant on a pillar whilst thinking of her options.

They needed to leave before being discovered by White Hat. Making a run for it would be too dangerous. They could feign injury, create a small diversion, or steal a scientist's coat and security pass. She fingered the roll of grenades in her pocket.

Sweeping her gaze, she saw the slave workers and guards going about their business. They were all disposable as far as the Tinker was concerned. He could order the entire site to be obliterated once the Locardum had been manufactured and transported elsewhere.

It's all about the bloody Locardum.

"Lottie. Options? We need to escape without raising suspicion. But can we somehow mess up the production of the Locardum, or at least put it out of action for a few days, until Space Corps arrive?"

"The power source is volatile. The ore requires exact conditions, so we could destroy the main control systems, which I guess is over by the scientists. I could change my face and trick our way out of the exit."

"Okay, I'll set the grenade timers for ten minutes and put them by the consoles. We'll subdue two scientists with spray or Oonie's jolter, steal their coats, and blag our way out through the exit. We should make it outside the main gate before their equipment blows up."

Brell turned towards Lottie and fished out the grenades.

"Heads up," Lottie said, leaning towards Brell. "White Hat is here."

"What?" She replaced the grenades in her pocket.

White Hat was interrogating the guards by the worker's entrance door. Two men with handheld screens were pointing over to the other exits.

Without speaking, Brell walked over to the other side of the foundry, slowing behind the pillars as she went.

"We'll see if there is a side exit up here, or we can hide."

They entered the manufacturing area, where the thumping of machinery became louder. Brell felt the vibration travelling from her feet to chest. Mechanical contraptions with large wooden hammers beat down onto lengths of cooling ore. Thin dull brown sheets were fed out the other side of the machine, where it was cut into sections and placed in piles. Two white-coated scientists, accompanied by a guard, scanned and examined the sheets.

Ahead, through the haze of heat, steam, and noise, Brell saw an open doorway, from which a few workers appeared lugging rolls of cable. Accompanying them was a worker wearing a white armband, who chivvied them on. A guard stood on either side of the door.

Rubbing her eyes against the heat, Brell glanced back; no sign of White Hat just yet. The machinery and thick air gave a measure of protection.

With no other places to hide, Brell resigned herself to having to enter the room and take her chances from there. It was that or make a last stand with the grenades.

"Lottie, good-looking woman, flirt with the guards."

"Boss."

Lottie bent her head for a moment. She had changed into Delta, with black hair, sultry eyes, and a knowing smile at the corner of the lips. With her hips swinging, she approached one of the guards.

"Hello," she said. "I'm new and my assistant is showing me around, would you mind if we looked around your little room here?"

The guard pulled at his collar and grinned over to his colleague. "I can give you a personal tour, if you like?"

"We won't be long, but I'll see you boys on my way out. Don't go anywhere. I'm sure you can show me some places to visit later," Lottie said, touching the man's nose with a finger.

The room was dimly lit and contained a jumble of machinery, coils of wire, wooden cases, and other unrecognisable materials. They walked along for twenty metres, careful to avoid tripping over anything. No side exits were spotted. Becoming warmer with each step, Brell felt sweat trickling down her chest and the small of her back. She wiped a hand across her forehead and pulled at her damp clothing.

As they neared the end, they both stopped. Brell wrinkled her brow in thought as she examined the pipes and devices in front of her. From a distance, it appeared to be maintenance tubes and vague-looking equipment. Up close, it was a different matter.

Two wide pipes, at thigh height, ran along the end wall from one side to the other. Five large rectangular cabinets were fixed onto the wall above the pipes. A series of lights blinked on their front metal panels. Brell placed a hand onto one of the cabinets and felt its vibration.

"Is there a smell here, something pungent?" Brell said. Her nose was so bunged up with hot acrid air, she could not be any more specific.

She examined the side of the cabinet, "There's narrow pipes leading from the wall through each one of these and up into the roof. Can you see this better, Lottie?"

Lottie turned her head for a moment. "I believe we are behind the furnaces, and about where those water tankers were parked outside."

"Yes. The furnaces must be on the other side of this wall," Brell said. She placed a hand on the bricks. "Hot to touch, no wonder it's so bloody warm in here."

Lottie stood still.

"What?"

"The tanks said water. Unless you saw any other pipes, there would have to be a reservoir of fuel, to allow for the quick re-firing of the furnaces. I detect a smell but cannot describe it."

"Would they guard a water supply?"

"I didn't see any specialist water being used in the manufacturing process. Also, these cabinets. I think they provide air pressure to the furnaces. Remember those angled pipes outside?"

"Okay. Let's blow it with a timed grenade. Whatever happens, it'll cause damage to something and hopefully upset the process for a while."

"Three grenades?"

"Two on the wide pipes in case they are fuel, and..." she fished out Oonie's small jolter. "Put this on them, it may give it an extra fizz. Place the other grenade on top of an air pressure cabinet. Set for six minutes, we have to move faster and get to the exit."

Brell peered back along the room and could only see shadows of equipment boxes.

"All set."

"Right."

Brell fired a continual burst of laser energy into one of the front panels furthest from the grenades. Concentrating on the same spot, the beam burned its way through to the rear of the cabinet. The lights winked off. Having drained the pistol's energy, she tossed it on the floor and reached under her coat for Oonie's pistol.

"We need to move." Brell headed off to the entrance doors. "Speak to your lover boys quickly, and we'll get over to the far scientist's exit. We may have to run and gun."

"Boss," Lottie said.

She approached the same man. "Will you be in the bar later? I would welcome a tour of the compound."

"Certainly, miss."

"And bring your friend. Three is a nice round number, don't you think?"

The man grinned and winked over at his colleague.

"See you later," Lottie said in a sultry, Delta-style voice.

She patted the man on the arm, as Brell nudged her urgently in the back.

Soon, they had passed through the hammering and pounding of the manufacturing area. To one side, Brell saw a group of workers moving equipment. There were women in amongst them and their exhausted faces stared at her in anticipation of a threat or a beating. She saw the trustee, whom she had seen earlier.

"You," Brell said. "Take your group to the exit, over there by the scientists and await further instructions."

"I don't know you," the trustee said, uncertainly.

Brell brought up her baton and poked him in the chest. "Do what I say."

"Yes, ma'am," the trustee said, motioning to the group.

Ahead, she saw some scientists animatedly pointing to a screen. To the right, by the scientist's exit, Brell saw that the guards had doubled in number.

"Two minutes," Lottie said. Her face and voice had returned to being a male guard.

"We'll have to shoot our way out."

Brell stepped forward but slipped on small ore fragments and stumbled onto her knees. She felt Lottie tapping her ankle. A pair of shiny boots came into her view.

"You, female, stand up. What is your name?"

Brell stood up, her hands resting on her pistol. White Hat stared at her, his piggy eyes creased in superiority. His hat, perched perfectly on top of his head, made up for his lack of height and hair. Two men were either side of him. They must have sidled across from the middle of the foundry when she had been talking to the trustee.

"Sorry, too loud, pardon?"

"Your name?" he said slowly, as if she was lip reading. He drew his baton and tapped it in his hand. He leered at Lottie. "Stay there."

"My name is Fokker," Brell said, saying the first insult that came into her head.

"Fokker," one of the men said as he examined his handheld device.

"Sir, the scientists have a concern about the furnace pressure," the other man said as he consulted a mini screen.

White Hat's eyes narrowed at Brell as she reached down the neck of her shirt with her left hand. "Here's my identity pass."

Lottie tapped her continuously on the back.

Brell clenched her left fist and dinked White Hat on the nose, which she followed through with a strong right-hand punch.

Running towards the exit, she pushed the other men out of the way.

Shouts came from behind.

Brell heard Lottie shout, "Down, down," as hands pulled at her waist. She went straight to the ground and put an arm over her head.

### Chapter 29

A loud klaxon sounded, cutting through the foundry noise. Brell opened her eyes and moved her arm so she could see what was happening. Apart from the siren, warning lights flickered. Workers stood bemused at the sight of a guard throwing a punch.

Brell waited for an explosion, but nothing happened. The grenades must have detonated by now, she thought, but appreciated it would not be heard above the background noise. There was no sign of White Hat, whom she expected to be pointing a pistol at her. She saw the rotund scientist surrounded by others, his face a picture of shock and concern. The group of workers she had spoken to stood nearby, waiting for instructions.

She sensed a moment of silence as Lottie moved on top of her.

A wrenching explosion percussed across the foundry. Ear-splittingly loud, the building rocked on its foundations. Shards of hot metal blasted through the air searing into anyone and anything within its deadly range. Brell tightened her arm over her face. She felt hot pricks of metal hitting her legs.

Lottie flinched.

A muffled whoomph sounded from the rear. Screams, shouts, and panic ensued from all parts of the building. Many of the pillars creaked and shifted, their footings shattered by the explosion.

Without thinking, Brell rolled sideways and pushed Lottie off her. She sprung to her feet. "Lottie, come on, get out."

Covered in soot and smoke, Lottie remained sitting on the floor, her arms resting on her legs. Brell grabbed her arm and helped her up.

"Been hit in the eyes, can't see," Lottie said, her face blackened by blast damage.

Brell took Lottie's hand and shoved it into the back of her trouser belt. "Hold on."

Glancing around, Brell saw what was left of one of the furnaces. Its cradle was splintered and twisted into deformed shapes. Cracked pipes hung from the roof space above. Gouts of fire spurted from a fractured fuel pipe behind the furnace. The three ore heaps stood proudly amongst the steam and smoke, like mountains, as an encroaching sea of flame engulfed their bases.

Brell ran to the exit door with Lottie adjusting her stride to match. Fleeing workers, guards, and scientists crammed through the doorways. She made it outside but was crushed in a bottleneck. People pushed, limped, and shouted. Fights broke out.

Within moments, the crowd surged forward. Brell pushed the backs of people in front of her as others shoved her from behind. Stumbling, she knew she could not afford to fall over. Her boots hit an object, which she realised was a uniformed guard. Stepping on another body, she made it through the fence gate and into the compound.

Chaotic scenes ensued. Scientists, guards, and slave workers stood in disbelief, unable to digest what was happening. Gang members appeared from the accommodation block and ran towards the foundry, together with some of the more alert guards.

A thudding explosion boomed; visible cracks appeared in the chimneys. It was only a matter of time before there was a complete structural failure.

Brell stood in amongst the pandemonium and saw the main gate was open. A flood of workers were taking their chance at freedom. She eyed up the landing pad beyond the gate.

She reached back and touched Lottie's arm. "Keep going, Lottie, hold on."

They made it through the gate, but on seeing gang members forming a line in front of the landing pad, she stopped. Weapons were levelled at the workers. Brell veered off towards a row of maintenance buildings as a barrage of shots was unleashed. She dragged Lottie behind a building and held her against the wall whilst catching her breath.

She held Lottie's hand as she said. "Stay here."

"I'm okay," Lottie said; her head remained motionless.

Hunching down, Brell made her way to the corner. "Thank you," she said, on seeing an unattended guard vehicle parked inside a maintenance garage.

"Found a vehicle, Lottie."

Gaining a firm grip of Lottie's hand, she led her forward and pushed her into the passenger's seat.

"Sit still."

"Yes, Brell, I'm okay. Get out of here," Lottie said.

Brell reversed out, managing to steer and accelerate before a straggle of workers headed her way. Weapon fire scythed through them.

Once satisfied she had placed enough distance between themselves and the compound, she pulled off the main road and into a thicket of trees. She helped Lottie out of the vehicle and into a small clearing overlooking the area.

Under the twilight sky, she saw that the roof and walls of the foundry had collapsed in on itself. Blue flames streamed into the air from around the fallen bricks as deep concussive booms resonated from within.

Many people were trying to fight the fire or attend to the injured, whilst others stood and watched. Spacecraft hurriedly took off from landing pads and the space park. Their flight paths suggested panic.

Brell spat out the muck in her mouth. "And all this from three perfectly placed grenades. Those water tanks must have been filled with fuel. The whole building has been reduced to rubble."

Lottie held Brell's hand and faced towards the sound of explosions. "Good job."

"Indeed, Lottie. Now let's have a look at you."

Shrapnel wounds riddled Lottie's face from chin to forehead. Her pupils were the colour of milk.

"What happened?"

"After pulling you down, I lay on top of you. I twisted myself, turned my head, and was struck in the face by hot metal."

"Can you see anything?"

"No. Everything is dark grey," Lottie said, lowering her head.

"What about the rest of you?"

Brell examined her for a moment and then ran a finger along some of the wounds, underneath the frayed fabric of her coat and trousers. "Your shell has been cracked, but nothing serious, these coats were a lifesaver."

"My power is low, it was drained by the heat. I don't have long before I go to sleep."

Brell could not stop herself from giving her a hug. She rubbed her hands down Lottie's back in a reassuring way and felt Lottie doing the same to her.

Placing her chin on Lottie's shoulder, she said, "If nothing else, they will have to rebuild the foundry or dig the ore out. That should put Locardum production back by a few weeks."

"I hope some bots and workers got out."

Brell nodded. "It's something I already want to expunge from my memory."

"The Tinker brought it on himself. The workers lives are on him. If you have halted development of their weapons for a while, then you have saved hundreds of lives."

"We did it together, Lottie. We were only supposed to create a little diversion to get out."

Brell stood back and rubbed a hand over her head. Her scalp was sore and the pain from various parts of her body was kicking in. She wiped her face with a sleeve.

"We must push on. They may regroup soon and come after us. The security building and accommodation block were untouched. I'm hoping that prick of a supervisor, Mr White Hat, was buried in the rubble. We have, what? At least twenty hours to hide up and hope Space Corps find us."

After hiding the coats under brushwood, they got back into their vehicle, which spluttered on starting up. Brell revved the engine before driving off along a grassy section, away from but following the main track. Within ten minutes, the vehicle gave up.

"It was in a garage for a reason. Bollocks. We'll take our time, stay off the road, and walk to those tower blocks at the back of the space field. Should give us an unobstructed view of the area to see our Space Corps buddies."

"You got it, boss," Lottie said.

"Hold my arm," Brell said, patting Lottie's hand. "Let's try over there."

***

The Tinker did not know what to hold first. He believed his stomach was about to explode, so pushed down on it whilst holding his chest to stop his heart from breaking through his ribs.

Regg studied him, finger poised on a green button. "Sir? Should I call for medical aid or contact your wife?"

Gaining his breath back, the Tinker, face red with anger, threw his precious pipe collection across the room.

"Who did this, Regg?" he said, his voice thundering in the normally silent room.

"Investigating. Standby, sir."

Only minutes before, the Tinker had been humming a tune to himself as he selected one of his oldest pipes and stuffed it with mature smoke weed. Settling back, he puffed as he watched the Locardum being processed, the workers diligently performing their work. He laughed at the rotund scientist's bulging eyes and sweaty forehead.

When the first explosion occurred, which blew out the cameras, he spent a few bewildering moments with his pipe hanging out of his mouth.

A camera view of the whole complex flicked on screen. The foundry building had collapsed upon itself.

"It would appear there has been an explosion inside the foundry, sir. Cannot confirm if accident or deliberate."

"Work it out, Regg, work it out."

Various screens displayed moments leading up to the explosion, then replayed the event itself.

"What's that there?" the Tinker said.

Slowing down the images, they watched together in silence.

Two guards were approached by a senior security manager in a white hat. They watched the altercation.

"Is that guard punching the one with the white hat? What sort of people are we employing there?"

Regg's fingers danced over his screens. "Analysing." Squares and symbols moved over faces. "An identity match, you may find interesting, sir. It's the blue woman, Sturlach, skin colour changed. I presume, from what we have seen, that she was involved in creating the explosion."

"How the hell did she get there? Her craft was boarded by Fanx, they blew it up with the robot. They told me Space Corps had taken her."

"It is definitely her, sir. And she is helping an injured person." Regg brought up images of Brell helping Lottie out of the main gate.

"Order their capture, Regg, immediately. Torture first with the Sunshine Sisters and find out everyone who helped her." He popped a minty stomach chew in his mouth. "Also, I want Fanx's gang killed."

"Sir."

The Tinker watched live images of the foundry. "Is the Locardum safe? Get hold of that bloody scientist."

Regg appeared unusually flustered. "Buzzing the scientist now. Comms may be flaky, or he may have gone up in the explosion."

The Tinker grumbled and burped.

"Only on audio, sir."

"Scientist, what the bloody hell happened."

The rotund scientist gasped for breath as he began speaking. "Early indications suggest the flames and explosion have fused most of the Locardum ore together. I fear it will only be good for scrap."

"Turn him off." The Tinker jabbed his finger at Regg. "Right, this is what I need. Any remaining teams to re-group and salvage any bits of useful Locardum. Send them to the other base nearby at, whatever it is called; the one with the drugs lab."

"Sir. And the blue woman?"

"Get that useless 'pole up his arse' security supervisor with the white hat. Tell him to find her or he may as well jump in the flames himself. Once she's been found and the site is clear, blow it, destroy everything. That includes anyone left behind."

### Chapter 30

The faded history of the space fields and their abandoned buildings was of no interest to Brell. Survival, water, food, and a dramatic rescue by Space Corps occupied her mind.

After walking passed dilapidated accommodation blocks, she chose one which seemed the most stable. With effort, she helped Lottie up to the third floor, which gave them a wide view of the base. Where was best to stay? Space Corps may head for the compound and be shot at, or from previous experience, try to bomb her. Some more twisted orders from Mourge?

Her only hope was Brune. With his Bermian roots of abiding by the law, he would at least contact Mourge. That on its own was a worry. However, Brune had moments when he lied or bent the law, often in events involving Brell. She had to trust that he would know what to do.

But then, he may have fallen over and bumped his head. Whilst she dreamed of Space Corps flying in and scooping her and Lottie up, the reality was that Brune was in hospital. No one else knew about her predicament.

Discarded papers, trashed furniture, and sagging wall hangings were all that was left of what was a communal room. At least the floor was intact. Sitting Lottie down against a wall, she searched around all the connected rooms. Scavengers had raked over the place many times. A packet of smokes caught her eye. There was a single bent smoke tube inside.

She sat next to Lottie and, with eventual success, managed to self-light the tube. If nothing else, the stale weed gave Brell a different taste from dust, ore, and the metallic air.

"Lottie?"

"My power is one percent."

"I'll look after you, don't worry. Whilst I'm fending off security and weapon fire, you can dream about robotic stuff."

"Such as?"

"Everything tidy and orderly. A perfect world of binary and pure programming."

"Interesting. But I'd rather be with you."

She held Lottie's hand and saw her legs were relaxing as her feet splayed outwards.

"When I laid next to you in the days after Captain Gorst's death," Lottie said slowly, "I felt the closeness and warmth of your body and the rhythm of your breathing. Here was someone who trusted me, took me out of my boring apartment job and into exciting but dangerous adventures. My very own plundering pirate."

"Save your power, Lottie."

"But, now, I am not able to protect you, Miss Sturlach. I have failed."

"Lottie, you've saved me on many occasions, and I don't know what I would do without you. With everything that's happened, I should be drinking heavily or taking Deep Yellow again. You have not failed me, you are my saviour."

"That's a nice thought to ..."

Brell felt Lottie's hand lose its grip. Her eyelids were half open, the pupil colour, as it was after the explosion, had faded. Brell lifted an arm, and it dropped. Lottie's skin was back to its basic white outer layer.

"Don't worry Lottie, my old robot chum, we'll get you charged up soon."

She lay Lottie's body on the floor and straightened her arms and legs. Using a rag left in a trash bin, she wiped the dirt off Lottie's face and hands. She relieved Lottie of her pistol and shoved it in a pocket.

She leant her elbows on the window sill and stared out across the base at the multiple rows of buildings and roadways. The landing strip, the final resting place of the _Lulu_ , was a few kilometres away. If she was piloting a craft, with scanner signals bouncing about on the various structures, she would hover over the landing strip first.

Decision made.

But what was the safest route? Escaping workers were bound to be making their way to this area to hide or try their luck. Guards would be pursuing them once they had re-organised themselves.

She felt tired and knew it would be difficult to stay awake. Her hand went to an inside pocket and fished out the strip of tablets taken from Oonie. "Crap," she said. The heat had baked them and the packaging. It was a dry gloop of powder.

Aggression, sleep, and sensual, not the best mix. It would be interesting to take at another time, but not now.

The rows of reinforced space craft hangars to her right caught her eye. They backed onto an outer perimeter fence, beyond which was wild land leading to mountains. That side of the space field would provide better protection than ploughing on through the middle.

Her next problem was getting Lottie downstairs. Pulling her body to the edge of the stairs feet first, she slowly bumped her down each step. After checking the area was clear, she hunted for anything useful.

Finding a long board, she laid Lottie's body on it, ran a cord around her chest, under both armpits and crossed it behind her before pulling it tight. Laboriously, she crafted a notch in the top edge of the board with a length of metal. Bringing both ends of the cord together, she tied a large knot and pushed it inside the notch. Lifting the board, she dragged it forward a few metres. It worked, though Lottie would have no heels left on her boots. Ripping an old sheet into strips, she fashioned a headscarf for herself and wrapped two lengths around her hands to stop the board digging into her palms.

"Come on Lottie, let's get you to safety—if bloody Space Corps can get their arse into gear, that is."

She walked forward, her back bent under the effort.

***

After watching, waiting, and resting, she trudged along metre by metre in front of the hangars, pausing every now and again to scavenge. She intentionally reduced her body movements to the minimum required.

A wrecked attack cruiser, twisted and rusted, sat in one of the hangars. Its body was still intact. Upon searching the inside, Brell could not resist sitting in the main pilot's chair, which was in its own mini cockpit jutting out the front of the craft. Long reduced to a metal framework, Brell wondered at the people who piloted this relic, their experiences, and memories.

She picked through a pile of discarded rubbish. Shaking packets and rattling tins, she stopped on hearing the engines of a flying craft nearby.

Picking her way along the hangar's side, she looked up and saw a dark grey mini attack craft. Its side door was open and a rifle barrel glinted in the light. Too far away to see much detail, Brell heard the faint _pop_ sound of weapon fire.

The craft banked and accelerated without any finesse before hovering again. Nearer now, Brell heard more weapon fire followed by laughter. The craft then flew towards the landing strip.

Quickly, Brell pulled Lottie's body to the rear shade of the hangar. She crossed a roadway towards a line of huts. The activity piqued her curiosity, and without the sound of land vehicles, she believed she could take the risk to see what happened.

A body lay by the side of a low building. Brell found her way to it after ten minutes of careful stalking. A male. He was one of the poor sods in the foundry, judging by the singed clothing and dry, red, blotched skin. Ignoring the wounds on his leg and chest, her attention was drawn to his shoulder bag. Brell's heart skipped momentarily as she pulled the strap over his neck. A search of his clothing revealed nothing useful. Without examining the bag, she left the area, unsure if she heard more engines.

Sitting next to Lottie, she rifled through the contents and found a small hammer, a piece of cloth, and a green bag embossed with a white emblem. It contained an empty bottle of water, one energy bar, and a strip of three hydration tablets. It could have been a personal-issue item to the scientists for dealing with the foundry's heat.

She tilted the bottle to extract any remaining water drops and licked the opening. Having eaten the last of Oonie's energy bars earlier, she put the new one back in the bag with the empty bottle. Taking a hydration tablet, she took off her headscarf and rubbed her head.

"Come on, Lottie," she said, standing up and continuing her journey.

She reached the last hangar in the row. Unfortunately, next to it was a continuous stretch of rocks. Her only option was to drag Lottie over to the rows of huts. Due to the unchanging twilight, every building had a permanent shadow, making these spots an ideal place to stop and hide.

Without an obvious morning or night, it was difficult to calculate the time of day, or how long she had been on the run. Taking a rest, she ate half of the energy bar and watched a flock of birds swooping in a mating ritual on the lower mountain slopes. Occasionally, vehicle engines and spacecraft were heard. Each time, she believed it to be Space Corps, or attack craft searching for her.

She nudged Lottie with her knee whilst examining the last half of the energy bar. "Last bit. Perhaps when this is over, Lottie, we could go shopping for clothes at a mega mall, what do you think?" she said, glancing at Lottie and patting her hand.

For some reason, she thought of Oonie being roused from her drunken sleep dreaming of punani whilst the compound exploded around her. Was her team one of those securing the area, or did they escape?

She closed her eyes, relaxed her neck, and felt herself falling asleep. Wrenching herself awake, she quickly stood up and checked inside the nearest hut for a secure place to rest.

***

On waking, she could not say how long she had been sleeping, or where she was. Laying on a hard floor and on her side, she stared at Lottie's face, her blank expression unchanged. She realised she was under a table, situated at the end of an indistinct office. There was a vague memory of pushing Lottie on her board underneath first before crawling in next to her. She had reached back out and pulled a couple of broken chairs in around them.

Her fingers touched her wristband. She had forgotten all about it, as it was of no use without Scrivvens's satellites. Perhaps the location signal may be of use to Space Corps. Her belief was they would arrive, search around, and give up. It was unlikely they would examine many of the buildings, especially if the Tinker's lot were on their tail.

Listening for any signs of a patrol, she pushed the furniture aside and rolled out. A glance out of the window did not reveal any activity nearby. It was the same unchanged sky, as if time had not moved on. With difficulty, she gained a purchase on the Lottie's board and dragged it outside. She stretched her arms and shoulders, ready for the next shift.

Halfway across the dirt and long grass, she heard the unmistakable sound of an attack cruiser. Picking up speed, she ran, pumping her legs, breathing hard. The craft, the same one as before, was virtually overhead as the engine downdraft blew dust in her direction. Light blasts on its manoeuvring thrusters, denoted it had found its prey. With throat burning and a determination not to let go of Lottie, Brell fell, almost collapsing onto the ground in the next twilight shadow.

Checking her feet and the board were within the darkness, she kept still and listened for any extraneous noises. With a hand on her holster, she waited and tried to calm her breathing.

Above the sound of the craft, a shot rang out about fifty metres further up the track. She knelt and peeked around the edge of the hut. Risky, but necessary.

Someone, still alive, judging by their twitching arm, lay on the ground, immobile. The craft held its position as if pinpointing the location. Within minutes, two security guard vehicles drove up, thankfully past her.

Security guards stood over the person, whom Brell believed was a woman. Her clothing was that of a worker. The men prodded her with a foot and glanced at the occupants of the other vehicle. The woman moaned and started to move her legs, suggesting she had been stunned.

White Hat appeared with an arm in a sling. His nose appeared to be heavily bruised. He swaggered with a pistol in his hand and pointed to the woman. As he spoke, they all looked down and tilted their heads. White Hat motioned with his hand and a handheld device was produced. One of the men prodded it into the woman's neck. Brell knew they were using a type of genetic or code scanner.

"Well? Is it her?" White Hat said.

"No, slave worker, been here a month."

"Okay, keep looking. She can't hide forever." White Hat rubbed his chin and touched his cap. His head turned and he appeared to stare directly in Brell's direction. She snatched herself back.

She peered out again and saw the men laughing amongst themselves, fingers pointing at each other in a jokey way. As if in answer to a message from White Hat, the attack craft ascended, tilted, and continued its survey of another part of the base.

White Hat jerked his thumb, and the woman, now more awake, was dragged into a hut. Screams, shouts, and laughter sounded from the building. White Hat stayed outside and viewed events through the window frame, his arms resting on the ledge. Brell continued watching, aware that White Hat only needed to take a short stroll to find her. Dragging Lottie was not an option.

A shot rang out, and the limp body was brought out and dumped into the back of the lead vehicle. Brell pulled her knees to her chest as sounds of the vehicles faded.

With at least a thousand metres yet to the landing strip, she heaved the board. Lottie felt twice as heavy.

***

Having lost all sense of time, she cast her head down and concentrated on each step forwards to the next dark shadow.

Whether it was her tiredness or determination not to leave Lottie behind, the sound of an oncoming vehicle did not register with her. It was driving down the trackway she was crossing. Hurrying, she made it to a rubbish dump heaped against the corner of a long hut. Dropping Lottie into the trash, she pulled lengths of wood, canvas, and rotten clothing over her body. She retreated into the shadows at the rear of a building and waited. With joints aching, she breathed heavily and knelt to look around.

A vehicle stopped ten metres from her. Her heart pumped and she licked her lips. With no sign of another vehicle, Brell scuttled along to the other side of the building.

Too late; boots tramped on the ground and two men appeared in front of her, pistols levelled at her head. Whether slow or tired, she tried to reach for her pistol, but a punch to her face was the last thing she remembered.

### Chapter 31

"How wonderful to meet you again," White Hat said. He could not have sounded more condescending and triumphant.

He stood in front of her. His facial expression was one that, even as a boy, other kids would have wanted to punch him. His heavily bruised nose had bloodied cotton wool tubes stuffed inside each nostril, and he winced on moving. Though dirt streaked with soot, his hat remained perched on his head.

Two men either side of Brell held her arms, their thumbs pressed hard into her skin. A third man aimed a rifle at her.

White Hat paced around the hut. "Who are you?"

Brell remained silent, as she took in her surroundings.

"What is your name?"

She stared at him.

"Well, I think I know," he said holding up a hand-held device containing her image. "That's you, but with your normal blue skin, not this dirty grey makeover of yours. First, let's make sure." He nodded to one of the men.

She felt the scanner being stuck into the side of her neck.

"Reading," the guard stared at the device, "Criminal records confirm it as Brellinane Sturlach," he said.

"You, my beautiful lady," he said, holding her chin, "have just saved my arse. The number one wanted woman, right here in this hut, captured sabotaging the foundry by no other than the Tinker himself on his little spy cameras. He is not very happy with you. Search her."

Brell was forced down onto a table, elbows digging in her spine. After her boots were yanked off, hands ran up her legs without any delicacy, from ankles to crotch. The neck of her shirt was twisted firmly, throttling her as she was dragged up to standing. Her shoulders were wrenched as they dragged off her jacket. Her shirt was ripped open and pulled out of her waistband. Fingers dug down into her trousers and fumbled around inside her underpants. She bit her lip to stop herself flinching. Her waist, breasts, neck, and arms were all examined and groped. Finally, her comms bracelet was discarded.

"Clean."

White Hat slapped her hard on the cheek.

"Who are you working for? Where is your colleague?" he said, spittle flying from his lips as he spoke.

Brell grinned as she examined his broken nose.

He slapped her again.

"Those two guards we found in a cupboard? They are currently recovering dead bodies before joining them." He leant towards her. "Now, I'm thinking because you are wearing a guard's uniform that must have been you who bound them."

Silence.

"Like undressing people, do you?" He gently tapped the side of Brell's head.

He took out his pistol. With difficulty he adjusted its settings using the fingers of his injured hand.

Glancing at the other men first, he straightened his back. Without pausing, he shot her in the lower stomach.

With the shock and effect of the electrical jolt, Brell's legs lost sensation. Flopping forward, she was stopped from falling by the two men taking her weight.

White Hat grabbed her chin and wrenched her face up towards his. "This is only the start."

He nodded. She was dumped into a chair.

There was a sound of engine thrusters overhead.

"The Tinker's team is here. He wants you taken away alive, for special treatment, he called it. I'm sure he would allow us the privilege of softening you up first."

Punching her, she fell forward, barely able to stop her face from smacking the floor.

"Oh look, she fell over."

He kicked her in the ribs.

Placing a foot into the middle of Brell's back, he said, "You two, go and welcome the Tinker's team."

"Yes, sir."

Both men left the building.

White Hat knelt and traced a finger along the scar on Brell's head. Slicking through small rivulets of sweat, he absent-mindedly created patterns on her scalp.

Sounds of movement outside made him stand up.

"They are here," he said, adjusting his cap, and brushing down his shoulders.

The door crashed open, and all Brell knew was the sound of short gunfire bursts and bodies hitting the floor. On opening her eyes, she saw White Hat laying in front of her. He had two small blood-lined holes in the top of his cheek and a surprised expression on his face. Confused, she looked upwards.

A tall elderly man stood over her, wearing a dark blue jumpsuit, hands clasping a short assault rifle.

"Commodore Xadian, at your service, ma'am," Xadian said.

"Commodore?" Brell said, in disbelief.

"Let's get you out of here. Commander?" he raised his voice.

Brune walked in, eyes on stalks, wearing a jumpsuit which could not hide his large belly; he too clutched a rifle, more out of comfort than confidence.

"We made it in time," he said, relief in his voice.

"Talk later," Xadian said, checking around the room.

Brune helped Brell to stand up. Her legs were regaining some feeling. Grabbing her as best as possible, he walked her outside to the rear of the hut.

"Lottie," Brell said, "we must take Lottie, she is out of power. Here." She pointed to the rubbish heap, relieved White Hat hadn't found her.

"Get you on board first, ma'am," Xadian said. "Pilot. We have found target alive, swing over to my position for immediate pickup. Utility drone needed to hook up downed robot colleague."

Brune pushed Brell back against a wall to keep her standing whilst Xadian checked the surrounding area. He uncovered Lottie and dragged the board out of the heap. Engine sounds of a ground vehicle could be heard, together with the return of the attack cruiser.

Grasping a longer rifle slung over the back of his shoulder, Xadian stepped out to the side of the hut, swung his weapon, and fired.

There was a sound of a muffled explosion together with a whoomph of a fire blast.

"Vehicle taken care of," Xadian said.

Next, he aimed into the air.

A tube-shaped transporter appeared. Flying low, it practically brushed the roofs of the huts. Turning on its axis, it reversed and set itself down ten metres in front of them. Its rear ramp opened.

Xadian fired up at the attack cruiser as Brune dragged Brell forward. Legs pumping, he deposited her on the top of the ramp.

A hand pulled at her arm.

"Come on, honey."

"Wanda?"

"Get your arse inside," she said, a smoke tube clenched between her lips.

Brune swivelled around, raised his rifle, and fired off some shots which completely missed their target.

"Another vehicle is driving up," he said on returning to Xadian.

Two small utility bots whizzed down the ramp, a long winch cable trailing behind them.

On seeing Lottie, the two drones, used mainly for hauling officer's private luggage, acted swifter than normal. Within moments, the cable was secured around Lottie's body and the board. The winch started up, pulling the board along the ground. It bumped up onto the ramp.

Xadian and Brune walked backwards, aiming at potential targets.

"They're readying themselves," Xadian said. He turned to examine the utility bots. "Have to wait until we get a clear run."

In response, weapon fire strafed the ramp. A drone attempted to wheel itself alongside Lottie but was hit. Holes punctured its metal sides, sending it spinning off into the ground. Lottie's feet twitched under further bullet fire.

Brune blasted a few shots towards the security guards, who were moving up the side of a building metre by metre. The attack cruiser accelerated and placed itself side on to their position. With measured movements, it swung sideways back and forth. Xadian watched, aware of the defensive tactics. The side door slid open.

"Commander. Go. Now."

Without waiting, Brune started running, but tripped over his feet. Recovering, he stepped onto the ramp. A loud shot rang out, taking out a chunk of the surface near his foot.

Xadian fired at the craft, but its manoeuvring made the angle too extreme for a clear shot. The engines and fuel tank of the craft were heavily protected. Unhooking a grenade, he threw it towards the security guards, who were readying their rifles. He followed Brune, who was now halfway up the ramp.

Another shot fired out, hitting Brune in his right hip. It sent him sprawling. An unmistakable dark red blotch on his jumpsuit started spreading outwards. The remaining bot returned and grasped Brune's collar. With difficulty, it proceeded to pull him up the ramp. Xadian continued firing at the aircraft.

It swung sideways.

Xadian sighted on the soft yellow glow of its interior and pumped two explosive grenades into the doorway. The impact caused shock waves inside the enclosed space, and the craft faltered.

Weapon fire came at him again. Xadian ran as shots pelted beside him. He grabbed Brune's jacket and yanked him forward, out of the drone's grip. At this moment, the ramp started to lift. The engines moaned as it took the craft's gravity weight. They ascended six metres whilst rotating. A delicate movement tilted the axis, allowing Xadian to pull Brune onboard at less of an incline.

Shots slammed into the side of the craft as Xadian fell on the floor, still clutching Brune's jacket. Brell stood uncertainly at the top of the hold, clasping the wall. The sudden, but expected acceleration made her legs wobble. She collapsed.

Xadian in the meantime showed his Space Corps experience. Ignoring the momentary zero gravity and the effect of the ascent, he knelt on the floor and started attending to Brune's injuries.

Lottie's body lay on the board to one side of the ramp door. Utility bot fragments were strewn all over her uniform. The other utility bot, full of bullet holes, detached the winch cable.

Once the ships gravity normalised, Brell got to her knees and crawled over to Xadian. Wanda joined them from the pilot's chair holding a medical bag.

"Can I do something?" Brell said.

Xadian grabbed a bandage and wrapped it around Brune's leg which was a mess of flesh and blood, held together by the fabric of his jumpsuit. He was clearly losing consciousness. Xadian placed Brell's hands on the bandage.

"Keep up the pressure," Xadian said, "Scanner."

Wanda passed him a medical contraption, which he attached to Brune's arm.

"Vital signs are low," Xadian said reading from the device, "auto functions kicking in."

The device hissed as it went to work injecting stabilisers, a blood staunching serum, and pain relief.

"Steadying, he has been put to sleep," he said, applying a fresh bandage, which soaked with blood immediately.

Tighter than the first bandage, he applied a self-tightening metal clip.

"For ten minutes only, then we will re-wrap it and check his vital signs."

Brell saw Xadian stumble as he stood up.

"You okay, commodore?" Brell said.

"Slight flesh wound," he said lifting his trouser leg to reveal a bullet hole in his calf.

"Bloody hell, commodore, take a seat, we need to sort you out," Wanda said.

"I've got the ship to see to first, then time for patching up," he said.

Shuffling into the cockpit, Brell saw Xadian standing behind the pilot, hands on the back of the chair, watching the screens.

"Wanda, who's flying?" Brell said.

"Surprise," Wark said, not taking his eyes off the forward screens as he started to engage full thrust.

"To our first waypoint, please, Mr Wark, then into autopilot, we need to draw breath. Good piloting back there."

"Commodore," Wark said.

They left Brune for a moment; he was asleep and out of pain. After a few minutes of swigging water and being hooked up to a quick-flow nutrients bag, Brell suddenly felt exhausted. She could sleep for a week.

Wanda discovered another bullet wound in Xadian's arm and helped him with the bandage.

Brune was placed into a bunk and his clothing cut off. Wanda washed his face as Xadian attended to his wounds, finally tucking a blanket around him.

Brell assisted the utility bot in moving Lottie's body off the board. She should be automatically drawing power from the craft's internal systems but had not shown any signs of recharging. She left the utility bot holding Lottie's hand.

"Let's have a look at you," Wanda said, returning to Brell.

With Xadian in the cockpit with Wark, Brell stripped off.

"Shit, you've been in it. Bullet grazes, pinpricks down your legs, bruising; your hands are a mess, broken rib?"

"It was a hell of a thing, Wanda. But I can't tell you how good it is to see you."

"And you. Now sit down let me run a health scanner over you, check for internal injuries. Then you can take a shower."

"Yes, nurse."

After showering, Brell sat still as Wanda applied lotions and patches from head to toe, then gave her a pain sedative.

Xadian walked in. "How are you, miss?"

"Commodore, I am in one piece, tired, and hoping Brune will survive. I was expecting Space Corps."

"My dear, the commander said they were committed to another sector and could not be spared. I believe if they knew the real facts, it would have been different."

"How did you find me in that hut?"

"The commander was aware of your old-style communicator from your previous mission. We set up an auto scanner and found two devices, one inside and one outside a low-level building. We took a risk."

"As grateful as I am, why did you and Wanda get involved in this crazy mission?"

"It is quite simple, my dear. The commander asked us to."

"It was touch and go in there. I was to be taken to another place for interrogation by the Tinker. They thought it was his craft landing nearby."

"That's why those two men came outside," Xadian said.

"What happened to Lottie?" Wanda said.

"Well, she was blinded during the explosion in the foundry and then ran out of power. I'm not sure what to do with her."

"Excuse me, ladies, I'll leave you to it. Good to see you are in one piece, Miss Sturlach." Xadian left the cabin.

"Commodore," Brell said as he left.

"Honey, you okay?" Wanda put her hands over Brell's.

"No, not really, I feel like I have been pulverised. It's been a hard few weeks, but hopefully, it's over. To cap it all, I may be going back to prison, but at this point, I don't care a shit."

"I know about the prison thing, Brune told us. He couldn't stop himself revealing some details of your job. We'll get one of them legal people onto the case. Don't waste your energy, you need to rest."

Nodding, Brell made her way over to Lottie and touched her head for a moment. After holding Brune's hand, she got onto a bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.

***

Wanda shook her awake.

"You've been out for ages, we're one hour from landing," Wanda said, handing Brell a hot brew.

"Brune?"

"He is stable; Xadian is looking to land on a Space Corps base."

Brell made her way round to the cockpit by holding the wall.

It was the first proper time she had seen Wark. His large bulk filled the seat and only his arms and hands seemed to be moving.

"Bit different from hauling cargo," Brell said.

"You're not wrong there," he said, staring at her for the briefest of moments.

Wanda put an arm around Brell. "The commodore showed him some attack and defence scenarios. I think he did very well," she said, tousling his hair.

Wark shook his head from side to side and grinned.

"Miss Sturlach," Xadian said, "we will be landing soon. I will do all I can to stop you being taken to prison. Those imbeciles don't know the truth."

"Thanks, commodore."

Soon, a small planet came into view. Wanda took over the controls and put the craft into a high orbit until Xadian's command to descend. Bumping through the atmosphere, they flew for fifty kilometres before descending into a line of clouds. A cityscape sprawled below them. Roadways weaved around assorted housing and industrial estates. As the city gave way to rural areas, brown-coloured fields were interspersed with outbuildings and not much else. The Space Corps base came into view. Positioned in the middle of nowhere, it consisted of a huge concrete square of hangars, landing pads, and crew accommodation.

" _Identify yourself_ ," the Space Corps ground controller said.

"This is retired Commodore Xadian. We have a seriously injured Police Corps commander on board and require a medical team."

"Standby for verification."

"My boy, we are landing whether you give permission or not. Mrs Spinney, straight down, please," Xadian said, rubbing his moustache.

### Chapter 32

By the time the controller had thought to reply, the craft was on its final descent, with landing struts deployed.

Xadian organised the orderlies who attended to Brune and swiftly wheeled him outside. Four utility bots also arrived and, with great care, laid Lottie's body onto a trolley.

Wanda took Brell's arm and steered her towards the main building. They all sat in a reception room, where they were met by the base commander, who recognised Xadian.

"Sir, your colleague is stable; I'm afraid he will lose his leg. Have you by any chance come from Nelpa Three? We've had reports of intense activity and explosions in one of the deserted sectors."

"We blew up the foundry," Brell said.

"And we went to rescue her," Xadian said.

"And we piloted the craft," Wanda said, pointing to herself and Wark.

The base commander examined each person in turn and scratched his head.

"We need to contact the injured man's wife. He is a Police Corps commander. Also, my bot needs attention, I would be obliged if someone could examine her," Brell said.

"I can see your crew has been busy; perhaps best if we get the doc-bot to examine all of you first."

"Before that, commander, may I have a private word?" Xadian said.

"Certainly, commodore. This way."

They disappeared into an office.

Brell sat and watched an orderly who tried but failed to make it look like he was working. He spent most of his time staring at the three of them.

Xadian appeared. He rubbed his moustache before speaking.

"Right. I've told them you have important intelligence, Miss Sturlach, so they will be talking to you. I have also impressed on the commander the need for the Corps to visit that planet immediately. He seems like a good chap."

Soon, Brell was sitting in a small office and supplied with drinks and food. She outlined the last few days in the presence of the base commander and his intelligence officer.

Open-mouthed with scepticism, the commander quickly changed his mind. The intelligence officer sat in silence as he interrogated a personal device and nodded.

"I can confirm that a seriously injured Space Corps pilot was picked up at the edge of Assoc space, as the result of an emergency call. Two people on board were arrested," the base commander said.

"Scrivvens and Katey," Brell said.

The intelligence officer showed the base commander something on his screen.

"The crews that bombed the silo were not from this Space Corps base."

"Good. I was wondering if you were part of a conspiracy," Brell said.

"I am diverting two crews to reconnoitre the moon." The base commander examined her face. "I'm going out on a limb based on your story, Miss Sturlach. We are aware of your past."

Brell smiled to herself. "It never goes away." She ran her hands over her head and looked at the commander. "It's all true, I can assure you, commander."

The meeting was interrupted by a knock on the door. The commander disappeared. On his return, Brell could tell from his facial expression that something had been revealed to him.

"Good news, I've just received a message about your bot. Apart from damage to its eye cameras and bullet wounds to its shell, it is fundamentally in one piece. They are starting to power it up."

"Thank you, commander."

"There is another thing, Miss Sturlach," he said lowering his voice.

"Has something happened to my baby?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. It's about you. A recall to prison order is outstanding against you."

Brell crossed her arms. "I was aware of it. I'm sure this can all be settled with a message from Space Corps to the commissioner. Tell him what happened. He could at least put a hold on the order until a more thorough investigation."

"There is also an arrest warrant for the injured Police Corps commander for stealing a spaceship, dereliction of duty, and so on. Plus a destruction notice for your robotic assistant." He scratched the side of his head.

"But commander, can't you speak to your superiors?"

"I have done. They are unwilling to go against an official order from the Police Corps commissioner. I'm sorry."

Brell rubbed her hands down her face and stared at the floor.

The commander put a hand on Brell's shoulder. "Miss Sturlach, for the moment, you are free to see your colleagues; I'm not throwing you in the brig. There is nowhere to go around here, anyway. Police Corps will be making their way up from the city."

"I'd better speak to the others and visit Brune," she said, standing up.

Asleep within his induced coma, Brune looked peaceful. A box shape was under the bed covers by his injured leg. Brell spent a while holding his hand and telling him she was proud of his decision to defy orders. His wife had been told about his injuries. Another person who blames me for something, Brell thought.

She sent zaps to Scrivvens and Katey, though had no idea if they would receive them. She also checked on junior; he was healthy and strong.

Returning to reception, she told Wanda, Wark, and Xadian that the prison recall was not a bluff and Police Corps would be arriving soon.

"We could make a run for it," Wanda said.

"I appreciate it, but Space Corps would turn us around, and I don't want you all to get into trouble. I've got to face up to it."

"What about Lottie?"

Xadian became agitated. "Miss Sturlach, this is outrageous," he said, striding off to find the base commander.

Returning twenty minutes later, he turned to Brell. "Miss Sturlach, nothing can be done to prevent Police Corps from taking you. However, the commander said your robot may be a different matter."

### Chapter 33

Deep in space, many thousands of kilometres from Elytia, the Tinker's unmarked cruiser sped toward his bolthole. His large private estate, located on an unremarkable planet, was currently being prepared for a long-term stay.

The Tinker's onboard office was like the one below his restaurant. Its mosaic of screens was curved in a semi-circle so it fitted inside his work cabin.

He watched the news channels and guffawed. Police Corps Commissioner Mourge stood in the hallway of the Tinker's main residence on Elytia, holding a press conference. Officers walked behind him carrying boxes.

"Listen to this, Regg."

"We have captured a man we believe is the Tinker, a crime lord. Also, traces of a rare ore have been found on another of the Tinker's properties, his restaurant in Elytia old town. It is our belief that he secreted a large stash of the ore to use in creating deadly weapons."

"He still thinks I'm on Elytia. Mrs Tinker played her part well, the upset wife confused by the raid. It'll cost me a lot in shoes, Regg, when she joins us. But she is worth it." He rubbed the back of his neck and yawned. "Wait," he listened for a moment. "He's just said that the blue woman is going back to jail. She obviously got away before we flattened everything."

"As your Police Corps commissioner, I am not afraid to make tough decisions. Stay safe."

The Tinker curled his lip and turned off the news screen.

"Time for your team leader meeting, sir," Regg said.

As usual, he stood to one side of the Tinker, head down, examining his screens. Whilst waiting for Regg to confirm the link was secure, the Tinker examined the faces appearing on the screen.

"I can assure you I am safe, alive, and still in charge," he said in a jocular manner. "The Corps believed I was in my house. I used a decoy, wearing a fake body suit and holo wrap-around to fool their surveillance. He was one of my more rotund security guards. Anyway, I'm here in charge of you lot, reports of my death are unfounded."

"Good to see you, boss," a leader said.

"Thanks, you can save the infighting for when I've really gone. Back to business. There is nothing of note contained within my house or restaurant."

"What about this ore, the Locardum found in your restaurant?"

"That was from a couple of years ago, when Carac Montil sent me a sample of the ore. I took it out of the box, wiped my hands on the sofa, and passed it onto our lab. There is no stash of the stuff. Despite what that idiot commissioner said. It all went up in a foundry explosion. I can just about bring myself to talk about it. We could have been running the galaxy with those weapons."

"What are your plans now, boss?"

"We have a geologist on our books. He will be hunting for another seam of the ore."

"And your family?"

"Mrs Tinker knows they have nothing on her or the kids. She will be released soon and will join me at my new place. She's already chosen the curtains. So back to business, everyone. A small blip, that's all this is."

As Regg cut the link, the Tinker said, "Reprobates, all of them." He stood up. "I'm tired, Regg, very tired. No Mrs Tinker to snuggle up to; for a while, anyway. I'm off to my cabin."

"Goodnight, sir," Regg said.

Regg finished a briefing list for the Tinker's consideration tomorrow. Before turning in he sent his daily message to his partner, Craig.

***

In the early hours of the morning, Regg was woken by a sweating security guard.

"Mr Regg, please, the Tinker, something happened. Come quick."

Pulling on clothes, Regg ran down the corridor and into the Tinker's cabin. Sprawled face down on the floor, the Tinker did not move. A medical operative was performing a health scan.

"Turn him over, check his breathing," Regg said.

Bending down and with effort, he pushed the Tinker onto his back. The Tinker's face was relaxed, eyes half-closed, mouth open. Regg placed a finger on the Tinker's neck.

No pulse.

"What does the scan show?"

"Lifeless. Unable to be revived. Aneurysm, brain artery blown, instant."

"Signs of external influence? Assassination?"

"None."

"Place him on the bed, secure the room. Post security outside until we land. I'll inform his wife and the team leaders," Regg said.

"Yes, Mr Regg."

As soon as Regg entered the Tinker's main comms room, he shut the door and contacted Craig.

"No questions, just listen to me. You've always talked about me taking early retirement; well, it's happened sooner than I thought. Pack our suitcases and open the message I am about to send you. I wrote it a while back. It contains instructions for everything. I'll meet you there. Have a long cool drink ready at the bar for me."

He broke the news to the recently released Tinker's wife in a calm manner. She collapsed into the arms of a robot assistant. Once she had composed herself, Regg told her a team would arrive soon. They will take care of her safety, finances, and travel arrangements.

He sat in the Tinker's seat and patted the armrests. Using the Tinker's personal authentication code, he sent an urgent message to all team leaders.

Within a minute, there was an audio beep announcing an incoming message. A team leader was attempting to make contact.

Regg stood up, ignored the screens, and returned to his cabin to pack.

### Chapter 34

Scrivvens lay on his bottom bunk, listening to the shuffling sounds of the prisoner above him. On the prison planet Crin, he was incarcerated in a cell block for prisoners awaiting trial. Mourge had insisted on a criminal prosecution, rather than a Police Corps internal discipline enquiry.

His bunkmate finally became quiet. He studied the allowed three basic images stuck on the wall by his head. Himself and Delta smiling, a thoughtful Delta in silhouette view in a doorway, and one of him with Brell. He stared again at his chronometer and sat up.

A gong sounded, followed by the door beam locks being disengaged.

"One-hour external communication period," a bored voice announced.

Finding a console in a corner booth, he sent a message to his parents, reassuring them he would receive a fair trial. Next, he re-read Katey's cryptic zap that "everything was safe and secure at the farm."

Receiving only one official message, a memo from his lawyer, he wrote a couple of upbeat zaps to Brune and Brell, hoping they were well and alive.

The heavily filtered news page contained the story of the raid on the Tinker's properties. On watching Mourge's interview at the Tinker's home, he sat back and shook his head. He searched for other news articles.

One headline said: _Sturlach – back to prison you go._

Realising his fingers had been grabbing the edge of the table, he felt a tap on his arm.

"You okay, buddy? Bad news?" the prisoner sitting in the next booth said.

Scrivvens stared at the man.

"Someone die?"

He rubbed his eyes. "No, no, just surprised by something. I had heard gossip but didn't think it would be carried through. One of my friends is being sent to prison."

The other man shrugged his shoulders. "Shit happens," he said.

After reading another two articles, virtually saying the same thing, he closed the news feed. He looked across the room. A guard stood at the end of the desks, hands on hips, chatting casually to an inmate.

Scrivvens brought up a new screen and, using hand gestures and keystrokes, he inputted a code which overrode the filter. Gaining stream access to the private system in his apartment, which he always kept on, he found the info dump he had sent himself from the _Pearl_.

"Fifteen minutes," the guard said.

First opening a self-created mini programme containing a clean message, he found the code names that Percy had given them on the _Lulu_ and copied them into the page.

_Alpha, five, gamma, three, seven, two, Elytia_

_Then he added,_ _The Farmlands, Kaznac. Locardum. Follow the request to its source._

Once satisfied, he added a sender's code. This would identify the message as having been sent from an admin office within Elytia's Police Corps HQ.

He tapped the table as he stared at the address field.

"Hey, buddy," he said to his neighbour.

"Yeah?"

"My friend needs to prove her innocence."

"Have you boinked her?"

"No, it's nothing like that. She's a family friend who is in trouble."

"Lawyers are expensive, but hey, I knew someone who used the media. He was as guilty as anything, but he convinced some chump to get his case re-opened."

"What happened?"

"They did a big sob story report and he was released. But the dickhead went and got into jail again."

"Thanks for that, buddy."

"Start winding up, boys," the guard said loudly.

Scrivvens searched on Brell and found an official promotional image of her used by the beam studio to hype up the most recent Convict Challenge show. He scanned the faces and names of people standing with her. There was Theo, the main presenter, Lexi, a co-presenter, and the show's producer.

He entered the producer's name and pressed the send icon. Once satisfied there were no error messages, he closed his programmes and turned off the machine.

Leaning across, he tapped his fellow prisoner on the back. "Cheers for that."

"Hey, don't let those bastards grind you down."

"You're not wrong there," Scrivvens said.

### Part Two

### Chapter 35

During Brell's first week of incarceration she shouted at the guards and continually punched her mattress. Unlike her previous prison experiences on an open wing; this time she was in solitary confinement.

Her optimism of release faded each day. A change of heart by Mourge or a legal challenge to her recall notice was all she could hope for. The lack of personal contact and outside information was difficult. Requests to send messages ended with a firm, "Not allowed to prisoners in solitary." Mourge must have requested that she had no contact with anyone. Fragging bastard.

She often thought of the others. Brune could still be in a coma, with his wife at his bedside blaming Brell. Lottie, hopefully was still in one piece, hidden by Space Corps. Wanda would be piloting a load of cargo with a smoke weed dangling from her lips and Xadian would be rubbing his moustache reminiscing about the space field raid. Though Katey would never be a close friend, Brell hoped she was making a go of the farm. At least Gorst's parents would organise things when junior was born.

And then there was Scrivvens. Where was he at the moment? He could be under arrest, free or incarcerated.

She missed Lottie's excitement when watching an episode of _Plundering Pirates_ or the times when she lowered her voice to re-tell Delta's gossip, though no one else was present.

Her cell was L shaped, with a small bathroom set in an open alcove near the end of the bed. It was the only private place, due to the corridor cameras trained on the two-way door. A daily fifteen-minute walk around a small outside yard on her own, at least provided fresh air.

One morning after her boxing routine and stretching exercises, she pulled off her sweaty clothes and stepped into the shower. Her attempts at modesty, due to the constant surveillance, were long gone. At least the water was hot, though she could not dawdle.

During her second week, she took a longer than normal shower, only to be visited by a guard. She believed the woman had been staring at her for a while before speaking.

"What are you doing in there?" the female guard had said.

"Waiting for a space bus," Brell said, continuing to wash her hair.

"You're not funny, Sturlach."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Out," the guard said.

Ever since then, she stopped any attempts at humour; it was not worth the aggravation.

She towelled herself off and changed into clean underwear. She pulled on a plain prison t-shirt and sat on the bed to examine her prison media cube. Though basic, she could listen to music, drama shows, and censored bland news. At least it provided a release from the tedium.

She was about to press play when she heard the main corridor door swing open. Who out of the ten cells on her wing was due a visit?

Boots shuffled outside. Another unscheduled inspection?

"Stand ready," a voice sounded.

Brell placed her feet on the faded yellow line painted on the floor and brought her wrists together, ready for the beam cuffs.

The door opened to reveal a male and female guard. It was the "happy twins," as Brell nicknamed them, due to their miserable demeanour.

"Visitor," the female said, scowling, eyeing Brell up and down.

"Visitor?"

"Visitor," the female said, her voice as sour as usual. "Get dressed, Sturlach."

"Is this a joke?"

"Genuine. Hurry up."

Brell stepped into a clean pair of overalls, unable to contain her growing excitement.

Without any conversation, she was beam cuffed and led out along a series of corridors. The door to interview room four slid open. Brell stopped on seeing her visitor stand up to greet her.

It was Lexuri de Camilloire, one of the co-presenters from the Convict Challenge show. Brell had worked with her a few months ago.

A shove in her back made her walk forward. The guard held her shoulder and pushed her down into a chair by a table, placed in the middle of the room. The guards sat down together by the side wall and folded their arms.

At least it was an open visit across a table, rather than behind a thick beam wall.

Brell examined Lexi. She wore a dark blue business jacket, trousers, a grey blouse, and low-heeled shoes, a change from her usual onscreen persona of short revealing dresses. Her normally sparkly hair was black and combed back in a serious design. Lexi was a self-assured woman in her late twenties. When Brell first met her, she thought she was a bit of an airhead. But after working with her, she realised that had been an unfair assumption.

Lexi approached to shake her hand.

"No touching," the female guard said.

Brell smelt a waft of her perfume. She could not identify its strong but refined fragrance. It was uplifting within the cleaning fluid world of prison. Brell inhaled the scent again.

Lexi stepped back to her chair and took off her jacket to reveal her blouse. Its sheer fabric shimmered under the lights. The top buttons were undone, revealing her cleavage.

She leaned over the table as she sat down. Brell's gaze moved from Lexi's breasts to the guards. Within a repressed prison environment, Lexi knew exactly what she was doing. The guard's eye movements and open mouths were testament to that.

"Brell, we only have an hour," Lexi said.

"Lexi, what are you doing here? How did you get in this place, I'm in solitary?"

"I had an interesting discussion with the prison overseer. She'd forgotten about some of her past deeds contained within the unreported news section of our archives and she gratefully received a donation to the Prison Corps Senior officer's fund. I also offered to a produce a 'puff piece' documentary on a day in the life of the hard working but loveable prison guards."

She nodded over to the "happy twins."

"I'm recording everything," she said, pointing to a mini camera.

Brell stretched her legs out and placed her still cuffed wrists on the table. "Am I live on some crappy reality show?"

"Before presenting, I was a journalist, believe it or not. Producer Valvin asked me to see you and record your side of the story. He sends his regards and wants to help you out. It is a straight-up interview."

"My story?"

"I'm digging into your prison recall. There has been a series of Police Corps raids on the Tinker's empire, and there are rumours that the Tinker is dead," Lexi said, spreading a large holo page of notes on the table in front of her. "Is this okay?" she said to the guards.

They nodded back.

"The Tinker, dead?"

"It's unconfirmed, in case it's fake news to aid his escape from the raids. But his empire is showing signs of fragmenting. One of his lieutenants, an ex-circus performer, apparently, is vying for power."

"Did you say raids?" Brell said.

"Police Corps raided his house and restaurant on Elytia, searching for signs of a rare ore."

"Locardum, by any chance?"

"Correct. The news streams were briefed by the Police Corps commissioner inside the Tinker's house. You have been blamed for, well, everything, and I would like to hear your side of the story."

"Blamed for what, exactly? And how do I know that you won't twist what I say with fancy editing?"

Brell watched Lexi examining her face. At that moment, she sensed pressure by her right ankle, then a faint rubbing along the side of her trousers.

"No tricks, or fancy editing, only the truth. Your story," Lexi said, her eyes softening as she maintained Brell's eye contact.

Moving her leg further under the table, Brell received firmer contact from Lexi's toes. She glanced at the guards, they had not noticed.

"Can I trust you?"

One tap.

"So you want the complete truth?"

One tap.

"Yes, leave nothing out. Here, I'll play you a snippet of a news stream."

Lexi fished into her briefcase and brought out a flat screen. Holding it up to the guards she received a nod. She flicked her fingers around the screen and turned it towards Brell.

Mourge was standing in the hallway of a large house. He cleared his throat before speaking. "I would like to announce that we have found traces of a rare ore called Locardum. We have been searching for this ore for a long time. It can be used to create lethal weapons, which would cause untold injury or damage. I must also inform you that Brellinane Sturlach, known to many of you as a finalist in the Convict Challenge game show a couple of years ago, was assisting a crime lord named the Tinker. She lied to my officers and took the Locardum to use it for her own personal gain."

"Where is she now, commissioner?" a reporter said.

"In prison, along with a Police Corps inspector, and very soon, a commander will be joining them. We not only deal with organised crime like this," he said, motioning around the hall, "but we flush out our own. Corruption will not be tolerated under my watch."

Brell sat back. "Scrivvens is in prison as well?"

"Yes. They are pushing for a criminal trial."

Brell shook her head.

"I'll read you some of the media reports."

"Go, on."

"You transported the ore from Kaznac, on behalf of the Tinker for credits to pay for your expensive birthing pool baby. The foundry explosion is a cover story, as you had already deposited the ore somewhere else. By the way, those old space fields and everything else on the Tinker's moon was destroyed, so your story cannot be verified."

"Great. Anything else?"

"You tried to get your friends and colleagues killed to stop them acting as witnesses. And you destroyed your robotic assistant for the same reasons."

Brell tried not to swear. "You would not believe what I have been through, let alone the others that helped me. It's all the imagination of Commissioner Mourge."

"Well then, this is your chance to set the record straight."

"Okay," Brell swallowed and thought for a moment. Having no opportunity to prepare for the interview, she sat back but kept her right leg extended. Where better to start than from the beginning?

"As the result of a desperate message from Katey Montil," she said, "I landed on Kaznac a few weeks ago with my robotic assistant."

She talked for the next thirty-five minutes. With only a few interruptions from Lexi, she recounted her story up to her imprisonment. Summarising many of the main events, she tried to put across as much detail as she could within the time allowed.

At times, she felt Lexi's toes massaging her ankle. It was comforting and reassuring.

A natural pause occurred when Lexi spent a moment studying her list of questions.

"Five minutes," a guard said.

"Alpha, five, gamma, three, seven, two, Elytia. The Farmlands, Kaznac. Locardum. Follow the request to its source. It was sent to my producer a few days ago. What does this mean?" Lexi stared hard at Brell.

Brell pulled her leg back. "Who sent that to you?"

"I can't disclose the source of this information."

"It's part of the story. It's how we knew about Percy's mission. Follow that code back to its original source from over a month ago."

"Can you tell me more?"

Glancing at the guards, Brell shook her head, "No. Investigate it, Lexi, use your resources based on Elytia." Brell fixed her eyes on Lexi.

"Okay, okay, I got the message," Lexi said, placing her hands in the air, and winking with one eyelid. "Any last things you want to say?"

"I've been bereaved, attacked, and imprisoned for wanting to stop the bloody Locardum finding its way into the wrong hands."

"Anything else?" Lexi said.

Brell noticed Lexi's eyes darting from herself to the guards and down at the table. She pushed her leg forward and felt Lexi's toes on her ankle again.

"Well, I don't want to spend the rest of my life in here, that's for sure. I have a baby on the way," Brell said.

Turning off the camera, Lexi touched her notes and rested her fingers around her mouth. Brell felt a couple of significant taps.

"Bear with me, I'm checking if I have missed any questions," Lexi said, moving her hands on the table. She continued to speak in a low voice, "I've activated an audio umbrella. Nothing can be heard. Cover your mouth. Anything you want to tell me off the record?"

Brell rubbed her temples with her hands as if she had a headache but shielded her lips. She had used audio umbrellas before, for surreptitious interviews. "Two things. The code? Link it to Mourge, his office sent it. Second, find Lottie. She'll give you hard evidence."

"Where is she?"

"Lexi, don't muck me about," Brell said, examining Lexi's eyes.

"Where?"

There was no flicker of uncertainty in Lexi's expression.

"At the Space Corps base where I was arrested." Brell bit her lip. "Um ... ask her this: 'What was Oonie dreaming of?' The answer is punani. She'll know it's from me."

"Okay," Lexi said, smiling as she blinked and glanced down. "So, Brell, I've asked you everything and our time is up. I would like to thank you for speaking to me."

"Finished," a guard said, making a chopping motion with his hand.

As Lexi spoke, Brell felt Lexi's toes hook around her ankle. At the same time, Lexi shoved a page of notes onto the floor, the opposite side of the table to the guards.

"Oh dear, sorry about that. I'll pick it up."

Standing, she pulled her chair back, shuffled her legs apart, and bent at the waist. From Brell's angle, she saw that Lexi's blouse was lifting out of her trousers the further she crouched down. Stooping lower, she exposed a line of bare flesh.

Brell watched the guards; time had stopped in their world. They gawped at the hint of buttock crease, appearing above the white underpants.

"Nearly got it," Lexi said, angling her backside towards the guards.

At that moment, Brell felt fingers pushing something down into her sock. The guards did not notice.

Standing up, Lexi straightened her hair and pulled at her blouse and pushed up her breasts. "Sorry about that," she said.

"Yes ... well," the female guard said, her voice flustered, "stay there, miss, whilst we take out the prisoner. Sturlach, stand up."

As Brell stood up, she shook her ankle to make the mystery item move further down inside.

"Thanks, Lexi. I am grateful for your visit. Please tell people I am okay."

"I will, Brell, don't worry."

The two women exchanged a final glance.

Back in her cell, Brell stood with her arms outstretched, as the female guard performed a body search. She stared at the door as hands ran from her neck along her limbs and down to the top of her socks. It was only a quick search. Brell knew both guards were keen to go for their break and talk about their encounter with Lexi. No doubt exaggerating the events to their colleagues.

Once the corridor door had closed, Brell stepped out of her overalls and sat on the privy. Her hand strayed into her sock. With forearms leaning on the top of her thighs, she bent forward to examine the object. It was a square of hard folded paper.

_Brell. Writing this old style, having_ _just_ _passed through prison security. Whatever happens during our interview, have faith. If you are angry, I understand. Will take time, bear with us. We have a team working on your behalf. Lexi xx._

She crumpled the memo, shoved it into the privy bowl, and pressed the beam flush. After splashing cold water on her face, she lay on the bed with her arms behind her head. Could she trust Lexi with Lottie's location? It was a shit or bust moment, but Lottie would know what to do if Lexi turned up.

Lexi was the last person she expected to see. A prison chaplain or some suited arse from Prison Corps, perhaps, but not her. Lexi had taken many risks, such as using the audio umbrella and passing the note. Her own freedom would have been in jeopardy.

Brell smiled on remembering the little things Lexi did to distract the guards. Her choice of clothes, the top buttons undone, and the way she bent over. A sight not to forget for a long time. Lottie would enjoy its re-telling one day.

Lexi's toes touching her ankle was the only contact from another person, except the guards, since her confinement.

All she could do was wait and put her trust in Lexi. Things had changed; she didn't feel alone.

### Chapter 36

Three days later, Lexi landed at the main spaceport of a dull planet in an outer region of the galaxy. She promptly hired a mini cruiser and told the pilot she was checking for potential filming locations. After consulting her map, an hour into the flight, she swallowed a tablet.

"I feel sick and faint," she said. "I can't continue, you'll have to land."

"Heading towards a Space Corps base, they'll shoot us down. I'll have to turn back."

"No, we must ask them for help," she said before slumping forward.

"Miss Lexi?" the pilot said. He pulled at her arm, taking his eyes off his screens for a moment. "Miss Lexi, are you okay?"

"Vessel, identify yourself, you are entering Space Corps territory."

"I err ... have a sick passenger on board, collapsed, not responding."

" _Turn around, find a hospital_."

"She's a hotshot celebrity from Elytia Beam Company."

" _Name_?"

"Lexi Camel something or other, the Beam Show presenter. You know, Yoof Jooce and Convict Challenge, short skirts. She sure is not well, sir."

" _Lexuri_ _de Camilloire_?"

"That's the one."

" _Permission granted. Landing pad two. Medicos will be on standby_."

***

Waking in a hospital bed, wearing a medical gown, Lexi blinked on seeing four faces staring down at her. "Where am I?" she said in a croaking voice.

"Space Corps base medical facility."

"What happened?"

"Appears you fainted with low blood pressure during the flight, no harm done. Try sitting up."

Slowly pushing herself up, she shuffled herself backwards onto a pile of pillows. "Thanks. Where's the pilot?"

"He's in a secure waiting room until you are ready to be flown back," a uniformed man said. He held out a glass of water.

Lexi drank some water and tousled her hair. "You know, I sure wish there was a way I could repay your hospitality." She smiled at the male in uniform and pursed her lips.

"I am the deputy commander of the base, Miss Camilloire, and we don't often get any visitors here, let alone a well-known celebrity. We would be honoured to show you around, meet the guys, and take some images," the deputy said, raising his eyebrows.

"No problem. I would love to meet everyone."

At her host's request, she put on a Space Corps jumpsuit. She unfastened the top buttons and pushed up her cleavage. Smiling widely, she followed two officers along a corridor towards the reception area. Staff appeared at doorways to catch a glimpse of her.

Waving and occasionally pausing to talk, she was intent on one thing only: to find Lottie. But within the vast compound, a robot could be working anywhere, or turned off and left in a cupboard.

Touring the base from the back of an open-topped vehicle, she posed for images or waved at bemused staff. Security protocols were forgotten as they drove through the hangers. Most utility bots were servicing craft or performing menial tasks. Many were fully-formed synthetics, whilst others were like dustbins with multi-tooled arms. Nothing spiked her attention. This was becoming a long shot.

"Boys," she said to the two males in the front seats, "could we have a rest for a drink?"

"Sure thing, ma'am,"

Inside the restaurant, Lexi examined her surroundings. It was a typical military canteen in a large, dreary, box-shaped room, with a small stage area at one end and a food counter at the other. Holographic posters displayed next weekend's entertainment. A tribute band called the Space Race would be "shaking the place down."

On taking a seat, a bean brew and cakes were placed on the table in front of her.

"Excuse me, Lexi, would you mind signing this for me? I am a huge fan of Yoof Jooce and Convict Challenge," a female officer said, holding open an official Space Corps notebook in her hand.

Taking the proffered stylus, Lexi wrote a short message, signing it with her name and two kisses.

"Thanks," the woman said, her face flushing.

"No problem," Lexi said, winking back.

Taking her time, Lexi studied the utility bots clearing tables and sweeping floors. Many of the staff were real people, except for some waiter bots. One, who worked in the senior officer's canteen, wore a bow tie. The kitchen contained the usual assortment of people and machines.

"Now, where are those boys?"

"Right here, ma'am," one of them said, contemplating Lexi's cleavage.

"I need to freshen up, and then I'll have to leave you men to your own devices."

"We'll be sorry to see you go, ma'am. The bathroom and privy are this way."

She followed the men through the exit doors towards a long corridor. Uniformed staff walked along the far end, their boots squeaking on the polished surfaces. A cleaning bot silently swept the floor. With a fully formed synthetic body, Lexi saw that its apron was neatly tied up behind its back. A small hat was perched on its head. An officer appeared from an office and stopped in front of the bot. Lexi slowed down.

"Hi, Norah, how do I look?"

The bot placed its broom handle against the wall. "Let's have a look at you, lieutenant." It stepped backwards. Hands went to the officer's hat and, with a precise movement, tilted it straight. "That's better; you look smart and important, lieutenant."

"You say that to all the guys, Norah," the lieutenant said, striding off and smiling.

The bot resumed sweeping the floor.

"Who is that bot?" Lexi said turning back to one of her escorts.

"Norah. It cleans the bathrooms, privies, and corridors."

"Been here long?"

"Not really. Found at the back of a scrap dumpster and re-energised."

Upon entering the woman's privy a few metres behind the bot, Lexi opened a tap and threw water over the floor. She poked her face around the door. "Excuse me, bot, but there's been a spillage."

As the bot turned, Lexi examined its face. It wore spectacles, as seen in old world recordings. Rounded lenses on a frame sitting on the nose and held on by attachments around the ears. Its plain features had skin discolouration by the eyes and cheeks. Jagged lines and divots were also apparent on the bot's face, though attempts had been made to reduce their visibility.

Lexi noticed the bot pause on seeing her. "Let me sort that out, madam." It spoke in a slow, robotic woman's voice. "Oh dear, what a mess."

The bot took out a cloth from a cupboard and proceeded to dry the floor. Lexi observed the neatness and lines of its uniform.

As the bot stood up, Lexi placed herself in front of the bot.

"Is there anything else I can help you with? I have to clean the corridor, madam."

"Stay here a moment."

"Madam," the bot said, placing its hands by its side.

"Your spectacles, take them off."

"Madam?"

"Your spectacles, take them off, robot, I want to examine them."

"Madam."

The bot unplugged the discrete scalp connectors attached to the spectacles arms and unhooked them from behind its ears. Lexi took the spectacles off the bot and examined the bots face. She waved a hand in front of the burnt eye sockets.

"Blind without them?"

"Yes, madam."

"Accident."

"Acid attack."

Placing the spectacles by the side of a sink, Lexi stepped back to examine the bot's body. Slight feminine curves, hard body, and a plain face. She took hold of the bot's hand and turned it over to examine the fingers. Next, she placed her hand around the bot and with little effort felt the unmistakable outline of a bra fastening.

"You wear a bra, robot?"

"Yes, madam, it makes me feel professional."

Lexi scratched her chin.

Without warning, she pushed the robot in its chest with both hands. At speed, the bot planted one foot behind itself and brought its hands up into an open-handed defensive stance.

"Interesting for a cleaning bot."

"I was ready to defend myself, madam."

"From what, cleaning mops? Here, put on your spectacles, Lottie." Lexi placed them in Lottie's hand.

"My name is Norah, madam," the bot said, on replacing its spectacles.

"Well, Lottie, you may like to know that I interviewed Brell three days ago. She remains in solitary confinement with no communication allowed."

"I do not know of any Brell, madam."

"She told me all about your adventures on Kaznac, springing Katey Montil from the inn, the silo and the farmhouse raid. As for the foundry, well, that is how you lost your sight."

"You are mistaken, madam."

"She told me to ask you this. What did Oonie dream of?"

"Madam, I do not know of any Oonie."

"Punani." Lexi stared into the bot's face.

The bot adjusted its spectacles a fraction, clasped both hands together in front of itself, and bowed its head.

"Is Brell safe and well?" Lottie said, her voice returning to normal.

"Yes, Lottie, she is, but I need your help."

"I will assist you, Lexi, but only if it aids Brell getting out of prison."

"Lottie, I spent an hour with her. She told me the whole story. The Police Corps commissioner is blaming her for everything, took the Locardum for her own gain to pay for the baby and so on."

"I have watched the news channels."

"Good. Brell said you could provide some hard evidence to back up her side of the story."

"I can. But I must speak to the base commander first. Before you demand anything, you should know that I am able to ignore commands."

"I gathered that. After I pushed you, you should have stepped back and apologised or something. You were ready to fight me. I can see why Brell puts her trust in you."

"Let me speak to the commander first."

"Well, lead on. By the way, who was this Oonie?"

"A sexually frustrated woman gang member who boarded our ship," Lottie said matter-of-factly, tapping her spectacles in the middle of its frame.

"I would love to interview you one day, Lottie."

***

The base commander's face was concerned and annoyed as Lexi entered his office. Lottie stood at his side.

"Lottie has explained everything to me. It appears this whole thing is going to be busted open. You were being driven around the base by a pair of excited men when I arrived back from a meeting with the locals. I did wonder about the coincidence of a beam studio presenter arriving here on planet 'back of beyond,' where nothing happens, except in deep space."

"Commander," Lexi said sitting down and speaking slower, "let me fill you in."

"Please, before I call on my security officer to arrest you for falsely claiming illness to trespass on a Space Corps base."

Lexi fastened her jumpsuit up to her neck. "Commander, do you know, my next scheduled presenting job is 'Miss Airhead' on a morning cookery programme. Smiling and laughing along with idiots cooking crap which most people wouldn't eat."

"What do you want from us? I mean, this could end my career and Lottie destroyed."

"Brell told me that Lottie can provide hard evidence to back up her story."

"And you?"

"It will allow my career to progress. I cannot deny that."

"And us?"

"When this thing breaks, your part in it will paint you as a man able to see the big picture, make tough decisions for the common good. Commodore Xadian speaks very highly of you, commander. As for Lottie, do you want to sweep the floors forever?"

"What is your proposal?"

"Lottie, can you access images and sounds in your memory of some of the events with Brell?"

"Yes."

"My producer will turn somersaults when he sees it. Once we release our report, there will be calls for the commissioner to resign and for Brell and Inspector Scrivvens to be released."

"Lottie?" the commander said.

"One of my primary objectives is to support Brell. Commander, if my information gains her release, then I will supply it."

"I agree. But Miss Cammiloire, I will ask Lottie to only pass on a few snippets of information backing up Brell's side of things. I will also ask her to hold back other data. This could be released once we see the tone of your investigative news story. And she will stay here until this matter is sorted out."

"Agreed."

"Lottie's location must not be revealed, for the time being, anyway. Can I trust you on that?"

"You are an astute man, commander. I will also row you out of the story, for now, but you may wish to prepare your own version of things."

"Okay, fair enough."

"Right, once Lottie has supplied the images, I'm ready to be escorted off the base."

Before long, Lottie connected her core to a small memory chip and copied selected images onto it. This included Fanx's team boarding the _Lulu_ and taking charge of the craft. She added the moments she was chained to the bomb, freeing Brell, and their escape before the _Lulu_ blew up.

"Commander, I'd love to return one day and accompany a space cruiser out on patrol to show how your officers put their lives on the line. After all, I am your new space base mascot and pinup."

Fluffing her hair, she undid the top of her jumpsuit and left the office, back to her willing escorts.

### Chapter 37

Lexi cleared her throat and sipped water. She glanced around the main studio of the Elytia Holo Beamcasting Company on Elytia. Staff were making last-minute preparations for the live news broadcast. The strain of the previous days showed on their faces. She stood to the side of a large screen and brushed the shoulders of her jacket. Her knee-length dress would disappoint her fans.

"Ten seconds, Lexi, best of luck," her producer said, in her earpiece. "Five, four, three, two, one."

Lexi stared at the swooping camera.

"Deception, retaliation, personal vendettas, and lies. These allegations are laid at the door of Police Corps Commissioner Vanderos Mourge. Tonight, we reveal in our exclusive report the true story of the hunt for Locardum."

A series of images played on the screen behind her. Brell, Scrivvens, Brune, and Mourge's faces appeared together with stills from Lottie's downloads.

Viewers were taken through the events on Kaznac and the space field. Snippets of Brell's prison interviews were intertwined with Mourge's media comments. Lottie's images were played during significant moments, punctuating Mourge's version of events with the real ones.

As she neared the end of the report, Lexi talked to a colleague standing outside Police Corps HQ. He spoke about there being calls for Mourge's resignation and pointed to the top floor of the HQ building, before ending with, "It might be a long night for the Commissioner. Back to the studio."

Lexi turned and faced another camera. "I'll leave you with these two pieces of damning information. The first is a string of words, a code, which we were sent anonymously." She pointed to the screen behind her. _"_ Alpha, five, gamma, three, seven, two, Elytia. What does this mean?"

She walked over to a map of the galaxy, showing a line dividing Association and Non-Association space.

"It is a code assigned to a request for Space Corps to enter Non-Association space. It gives their pilots the authority to take any action necessary. This request originated from the commissioner's office within Police Corps HQ."

She faced another camera.

"You may recognise this voice." She stood still, as if in thought whilst an audio clip was played.

"F'ing Space Corps. That blue bitch should be dead and the Locardum destroyed." Mourge's voice boomed out inside the studio.

"An authority code, and a failed attempt at bombing Miss Sturlach. There you have it."

Lexi walked forward and spread her arms. An image of Brell appeared next to an official Police Corps picture of Scrivvens.

"Should they still be in prison? I'm Lexuri de Camilloire. Good night."

As soon as the live transmission ended, Lexi let out a long breath. Applause radiated from the studio floor. The company boss, who had watched from the shadows with a lawyer stepped forward and shook her hand.

### Chapter 38

It was the smell of fresh air and a difficult to describe feeling of freedom that Brell most enjoyed on exiting the prison gates. Momentarily uncertain what to do, she saw Scrivvens standing next to Lexi and a camera crew.

She shook her head and smiled. Scrivvens walked forward and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Welcome back to the world, Brell."

"Thanks. Have you been out long?" Brell said wiping a hand up to her eyes.

He dropped his smile. "Only an hour ago."

"What do we do now? I'm not sure what's going on."

"Lexi, who is recording all of this, by the way, has arranged for us to travel to Elytia with her onboard a cruiser." He turned his head sideways and lowered his voice. "Take your time, they'll expect interviews, but we can contact our folks and get back into the real world and eat real food."

"Ice cream?"

"As much as you like."

Lexi approached them. "Miss Sturlach, may I ask how it feels to be pardoned and released?"

"Wonderful," Brell said.

Scrivvens placed his arm supportively around Brell's back.

"I almost don't know what to say." Brell considered the sky. "Fresh air, real food, being able to contact people again. Thank you to everyone who helped secure our release."

"Well, there you have it. Once they have settled on board our cruiser, tune in for interviews and anecdotes on their incredible story. You don't want to miss it."

Pausing, Lexi waited, her eyes staring ahead, then she nodded.

"Okay we're off live stream," she said.

They hugged. Lexi smelled of cleanliness, perfume, and hair products. "Lexi, I can't thank you enough; plus I have a lot of questions," Brell said.

"All in good time. Let's get away from this place. Gives me the creeps."

After a short journey to the spaceport, they boarded a cruiser. With little concern for the expense, the studio had hired a series of suites. One of the living rooms had been decorated to make it suitable for filming interviews with Brell and Scrivvens.

Brell opened the door of her bedroom to see Lottie waiting for her. They both examined each other.

"Your spectacles suit you," Brell said.

"You've grown hair," Lottie said.

They clung to each other until Brell eventually said, "Come on, Lottie, let's settle in."

"Well, I have pre-set the autochef for your favourite ice cream concoctions. Intox options have been code locked, and everything is laid out for you after your shower. All your clothes have been provided by the studio."

"Thanks, Lottie." Brell looked directly at her.

"Brell, you don't have to talk until ready," Lottie said, tapping her spectacles.

Brell took off all her clothes and threw them on the floor. She turned to Lottie. "I can shower for as long as I like." She shook her head. "Institutionalised."

"You've lost a little weight," Lottie said, studying Brell's body. "Any injuries?"

"Get a tweak around my ribs from when White Hat kicked me. I'll tell you about that later. We'll have a full debrief."

"There's a doctor booth onboard. You could have a check-up." Lottie scooped up the clothes. "What do you want me to do with these?"

"Destroy them."

Later, Brell sat on the bed in a bathrobe, a towel wrapped around her head. She was shocked by the size of the room and lack of guards.

Updated images of junior were the first thing she searched for before working her way through the remaining messages. Wanda talked with a smoke tube out of the corner of her mouth, and Spinney was smart in her cadet uniform. Xadian rubbed his moustache, and a very tired Brune spoke slowly whilst sitting up in bed. Katey had changed her hair colour and wore farm clothes, even Brell's mother managed to say something positive.

A while later, Scrivvens came in, and after silences and hugs, he sat down. "I'm trying to come to terms with this, but at least when I was inside I could check on the news. I presume you know nothing since your arrest?"

"I was in solitary, thinking this was it for the rest of my life. Then Lexi turned up a while back and interviewed me for an hour. This morning, I was informed of my release and told to gather my belongings. After leaving the gate, I walked into Lexi's cameras. I've no idea what happened."

Scrivvens scratched the back of his neck. "Lottie, have you scanned the room for devices?"

"Yes, inspector, it is safe."

"Good. Lottie, I think it's best to play Lexi's news report."

They sat together and watched the events on the wall screen.

"You sent the Space Corps code, didn't you," Brell said. "Lexi mentioned it to me in the interview. I told her to look on Elytia."

"Yes. I sent a message to Lexi's producer, hoping he would research it. The studio hired a hacker, who cracked the code's source."

"What happened after it was shown?" Brell said.

"I think with your interview, Lottie's images, and the code, it all fell into place."

"Lexi obviously found you, then?" Brell said to Lottie.

"I was saved by the Space Corps commander from being destroyed. They found an old bot which they gave to Police Corps and I became a cleaner. A very nice man fitted me with these," Lottie said, touching her spectacles, "and I am the official robotic sweetheart for the Space Corps base."

She showed Brell an image of a utility bot standing to attention by its locker door, which had an image of Lottie stuck on the inside.

"I provided Lexi with images of the foundry and the _Lulu_ after being boarded."

"Mourge tried to wriggle out of the allegations. He said that Police Corps knew all along about your involvement and put you in prison to protect you," Scrivvens said.

"Wanker," Brell said as Lottie handed her another brew.

"Mourge is yesterday's man. He's shuffling papers somewhere whilst they investigate the circumstances."

"There were rumours about the Tinker," Brell said.

"He died of natural causes and his team leaders have declared war on each other. Police Corps are on high alert," Scrivvens said.

"Blimey, how are things with you?"

"Okay. I took out Delta's memory tubes onboard the _Pearl_. Katey has them safely stored on her farm."

"I'm glad Katey and Percy got her back. We couldn't have done without Delta on the farm. How is Brune?"

"He will take a long time to recover. I don't think he will return to the Corps."

There was a knock on the door. It was Lexi.

"Hi guys, how are you settling in?"

"Good, thanks," Scrivvens said.

"How did you connect everything, Lexi?" Brell said.

Lexi came in as Lottie bustled about, making her a bean brew.

"When our producer told me about the message with the code, I hounded him in order to investigate it."

"How did you find Mourge's conversation?" Scrivvens said.

"Obscurely, I know an art restorer. He told me about a damaged art piece at a men's club. He overheard staff gossip about an incident, which suggested that Mourge was involved. Our hacker got into the club's signal and comms pulser. With the room details and a lot of time, he tapped into Mourge's conversations."

Brell said, "Lexi, we have to thank you for your dogged investigation." She held Scrivvens' hand.

"Don't worry, you can repay me by spending the next two days giving exclusive interviews."

"I understand that. And afterwards?"

"You're free."

"Free?" Brell slumped in her chair. "It's okay," she said. "Just a shock, that's all."

***

In between the interviews, Brell lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. Her thoughts straying to junior and the months ahead without Gorst at her side.

On the last evening of the journey, Lexi, Brell, and Scrivvens sat down for a final meal together. Lottie happily stayed in the bedroom to watch a new episode of _Plundering Pirates_.

After eating, they relaxed in cosy chairs and talked about the future as Lexi drank her way through an expensive bottle of wine.

"What are your plans then, Mr Scrivvens? Don't you have a first name?" Lexi said, poking Scrivvens on the back of his hand.

"I'm heading to Police Corps HQ to receive an official reinstatement back to duty. Then I will claim all my owed days off, visit Brune and my parents. Katey has invited me to her farm and asked if I could fix some of the farming bots. I've been called Scrivvens since joining Police Corps, it's as simple as that."

"You love those bots, eh?" Lexi said.

"They interest me; their circuits, brains, coding, that sort of thing," Scrivvens said.

Lexi turned to face Brell, her eyes softening. "And how about you, Brell?"

"Well, nothing for a while except visiting Brune, Xadian, and Wanda. Thinking of instructing a legal firm, though. I need official notification from Police Corps that there are no hidden prison recall orders. Plus, of course, preparing for the baby. Can't think beyond that. What about you, Lexi?"

"Lot of work ahead with special reports, editing the interviews, and so on. I've managed to secure a position as a news journalist."

"You deserve it, Lexi. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," Brell said.

After more small talk, Scrivvens excused himself and went back to his room.

"Sooo," Lexi said, opening another bottle of wine. "Has Scrivvens ever hit on you?"

"You've been bursting to ask that question all day. As this is strictly off the record, the answer is no, he hasn't."

"Oh, he likes men and robots, then?"

"No. We don't have that sort of relationship. He's like a surrogate brother to me."

Lexi screwed her face up.

"It is possible for men and women to get along without having sex," Brell said.

"Is it?"

"Blimey, Lexi."

"I like to enjoy myself. Men, women, bots." She tilted her head and held her hands in the air. "Life's too short."

"Lottie is out of bounds, by the way. I thought you were married to a handsome sports star."

"He's, well ... it's a marriage of convenience actually, for our professional image."

"Yes, you do look good together."

"He's great and everything, but I still like to have my own fun. Stress relief, I call it." She held her glass towards Brell. "Are you stressed, Brell?"

"Are you hitting on me?"

"An ex-Police Corps officer, tough female cargo pilot, who can carry a weapon. Released from prison, with all that pent-up sexual frustration. What's not to like?" Lexi said, twirling a strand of hair.

"You are something else. If we are done with your lame pick up attempt, I'm off to bed," Brell said, laughing.

"Lucky old Lottie."

"Good night, Lexi." Brell stood up to leave.

Lexi held up her glass in salute. "Another time, then?"

Brell turned back and smiled.

"Cheers," Lexi said, finishing her drink.

***

Arriving on Elytia the following day, Brell and Scrivvens went their own way, with promises to meet up soon. Exhausted from the interviews, let alone her release from prison, Brell gratefully collapsed onto a bed in a hotel room paid for by the studios.

Within days, Lottie found an apartment in a modest part of suburban Elytia, and after numerous shopping trips, they moved in. Brell offered Lottie use of the second bedroom. In no time, holo picture frames of Delta and _Plundering Pirates_ characters appeared on the walls. Her new stress ball was placed in the bottom bedside drawer and her clothes were hung precisely in the wardrobe. The official Space Corps image of her being inducted as a base robotic sweetheart was proudly displayed on a table.

Lottie's mouth fell open on seeing Brell's room, with clothes strewn on the bed or shoved inside the wardrobe.

The two general utility bots included in the rent resembled trash bins on wheels. Lottie called them into the living room for a briefing and Brell, not wanting to intrude, giggled in the corridor outside.

"Now, boys, I expect professional behaviour from you at all times. Our mistress is a very important woman. She travels across the galaxy involving herself in dangerous and exciting adventures. Any errors from the both of you will not be tolerated."

Both bots faced Lottie, placed their arms vertically and stood to attention.

"Off you go, boys."

With renewed energy, the bots whirled off to their duties.

The next day, Brell dropped Lottie off at a bot specialist, as recommended by Lexi, to have her eyesight restored and her outer skin replenished. She then travelled around Elytia to visit Brune.

She sat by his bed as they recounted their recent adventures and old times. Brune's wife hovered in the background, stony-faced, her eyes indicating blame.

"So, what's next?" Brell said.

"When I am more able, we are going on a long trip, back to Bermia, see family and take it easy. I can get a new leg and all that, but the infection and complications have taken it out of me."

"Police Corps career?"

"I've been reinstated as a commander, so my pension is safe," he said, his gaze straying to the door. "But I..." He squeezed her hand. "I think I'll retire on ill health, my heart for the Corps has gone. It's changing; they want a younger, fitter workforce. There will be a drive for all staff to go back on the front line, freeing up office jobs. I will be replaced by low-grade civilians and virtual assistants."

His wife walked in with a glass of water.

Brell took it as a sign. "It's time to leave, but I wanted to say that I can't thank you enough for your actions in saving me." She looked at his wife. "He was my only hope in the whole galaxy."

"He paid a high price for it."

"Well, I wish you all the best and please stay in touch," Brell said.

She said her goodbyes and travelled back to the apartment.

Lottie arrived later in the evening and stood in the living room whilst Brell looked her over.

"What do you think?" Lottie said.

Brell examined her face, "Very good."

"I can see normally again. My wounds and bullet holes were repaired and my whole body has been re-covered."

"Skin changing?"

Lottie altered her normal "Lottie" face to that of Morton and spoke in his deep voice.

"It has a two-year guarantee as well," Lottie said. "I'll put my old spectacles in a frame as a reminder."

"It's good to have you back, Lottie," Brell said.

Brell read the expense bill and rubbed the back of her head. As Lottie breezed about checking on the utility bots, Brell listed the outgoing bills. With her hard-won pension arrangements and the partial insurance payout for the _Lulu_ , her bank balance was healthy enough. Lottie's makeover had made a severe dent in her savings. She could now only afford to buy a small cargo freighter. But this would have to be put on hold because of the upcoming birthing ceremony. There was guest travel, hotel bills, as well as the ongoing expense of bringing up a baby.

"Brell?"

Lottie sat down and looked over the screens. "My makeover?"

"All been paid for, Lottie."

"Is there anything I can do to earn credits back? I could give massages."

"No, no," Brell said, "don't even go there, Lottie. Skin changing bot, offering high-quality massage in private location. Hmm, I think there are safer ideas."

"It would earn a lot of credits and be exciting."

"True, but I'm not having a corridor full of sweaty blokes asking for Madame Lottie to satisfy their urges. There will be other things to do out there. I'll send out some feelers."

Working with a flowing note board, she drew circles around some ideas. As a result, she sent several zap messages to freighter agencies and an old Police Corps colleague, whom she trusted.

Not long afterwards, she received a reply from Holly, a grouchy ex-pilot who ran his own transportation business. Unlike others, he had provided Brell with work after she was released from prison the first time. She envisioned him sitting behind his desk in a dirty office, still wearing his old battered pilot jacket.

She shared the job details with Wanda and did not have to wait long for a positive reply. Holly accepted them both on the spot and sent through the job details.

"Lottie, I've got a job offer for me and Wanda."

"When are we leaving?"

"I'm afraid no bots are allowed. We'll be ferrying supplies at the Zero-G festival, located on an unpronounceable moon. It's eight weeks in total, including set up and de-rig. Two years ago, the event organisers went cheap and used bot pilots for the short haul cargo drops. One blew a fuse and crashed a string of craft down onto the surface, caused deaths and all sorts of problems."

"They probably used inferior models. Anyway, I have the apartment to look after, keep an eye on those two bots and everything else."

"Cut the crap, Lottie, you'll be bored as soon as I leave. Spinney may pop over at weekends with some friends. One of my ex-Police Corps colleagues wants to use you for roleplaying at a training event. And, I've put a load of credits into your account for shopping, clothes, and personal items."

***

Packed and ready, Brell said goodbye to Lottie and left.

After setting an internal clock to count down the eight weeks, Lottie toured the apartment, the utility bots following behind.

"Boys, our mistress has gone on a long trip, we must make sure the apartment is clean and secure for her return."

They each moved an arm in acknowledgement.

Wandering into Brell's bedroom, she stared at the empty bed. She picked up one of Brell's perfumes from a side table and sprayed it into the air. Sensing its smell, she relived recent happy memories.

In the living room, she watched the sky change colour, its rays peeping round the sides of the nearby high accommodation blocks. She heard but dismissed the sound of the bots wheeling along and stopping in the corridor outside to check on her.

After saying goodnight to the bots, she retired to her room and turned on a bedside lamp. She laid out her clothes for the morning, undressed, and changed into her pyjamas. Sitting on the bed, she leant her back against the headboard.

She sent a message to Brell, telling her that all was well. Next, she re-played one of Delta's messages, taken a few months before the farm raid.

"Hi, honey," Delta said, as she walked in front of the camera wearing a matching set of underwear, with hands on her hips. "Perfect for a night on the town. Scrivs is taking us to a nightclub. The music is improvised and lacks syncopation, but the dancing is great fun."

Delta covered herself in a mist of perfume and pulled on a long black dress. She twisted herself back and forth in front of a mirror.

"What do you think? A girl ready to sizzle. See you soon, honey."

The screen went blank and the room became silent. Lottie placed her hands on her knees and stared ahead. After a while, she leaned over to open the bottom drawer of her bedside cabinet. She ran a finger over the surface of her stress ball for a moment, then placed her hands in her lap.

Two minutes later, her hand strayed down again and she scooped up the stress ball. Once connected to the device, she rubbed its surface with practised fingers in the way Delta had shown her.

Soothing feelings soon flowed through her circuits. By varying finger pressure and rhythm, she took herself on a slow path of robotic pleasure, culminating in two seconds of euphoria.

Lottie waited for the sensation to subside before replacing the stress ball in the drawer. She turned off the light, lay down and stared at the ceiling.

### Chapter 39

Sitting on a cushioned chair on an outside veranda, Smiler watched a flock of birds spiralling above the fields of brown crops. He grasped the chair arms again, his face contorting.

"Mabel, pain relief," he said.

"Certainly, Chuck," Mabel said.

The woman fiddled about in a bedside drawer and passed him a small vial.

His hand shook as he drank the liquid.

"Better?"

Smiler ignored her.

"Got some news today, they've nearly finished rebuilding the farmstead. Put a new roof back on and everything."

"Should have left it as it was and left me under the rubble."

"I could have. But as I told my sister many times, you were worth saving," she said, patting him gently on the shoulder.

"Your bloody sister," he said, rolling his eyes.

"My sister has put us up and helped look after you. Without her financial support, you would not have received your leg callipers."

Smiler went back to watching the birds.

With a burnt, hairless scalp, his face was a patchwork of red-blotched skin, dry and itchy. Without eyebrows or eyelashes, his lips were two thin lines of injected mucous membrane.

"The Association news catch up programme is on, Chuck."

Assisted by the discrete mechanical leg braces, he stood up and limped inside the bedroom. Originally a rear living room, it had been quickly converted when Smiler arrived in the back of a farm truck.

He sat on a chair facing the media screen.

"News Roundup," the presenter said. "Amongst our items, this week is one about death, explosions, and a load of rocks. But first, a man who spent five days searching a refuse dump for a lost piece of jewellery. Did he find it? We'll see you after the break."

"Rocks?" he said, his gaze darted around the room, his brow wrinkling. "Explosions and rocks?"

"Alright, Chuck?"

"Who cares about a bloke covered in shit, searching for jewellery?"

"It could be a romantic story."

He harrumphed his way through each news item.

"Chuck, do you want a drink?"

"Quiet," he said, leaning forward.

"I'll leave you alone." Mabel's skirt rustled as she left the room.

An image of Brell appeared. Smiler gripped the arms of his chair and held his breath.

"Brellinane Sturlach, whom you may remember from Convict Challenge, was recently released from prison. She had been accused of assisting the Tinker, a well-known crime lord."

A montage of images showed Brell being released from prison.

The reporter continued. "During a series of frank interviews, she revealed her role in pursuing a hidden cache of a distinctive ore called Locardum. After a daring raid on a farm in which a known hoodlum was killed, she followed the ore to an outer rim moon, where she blew it up and rendered it useless. She has now settled on Elytia and is looking forward to the birth of her baby in a birthing centre on Symphony. It has also been confirmed that the Tinker has died of natural causes. And as for the Police Corps Commissioner who made the false allegations, he has been forced to resign."

Smiler's body shook uncontrollably as he stood up and balled his fists. "That fucking whore," he said, shouting at the screen. He looked around for something to throw, but ended up falling back into his chair, clutching his chest.

Mabel appeared with a drink and a plate of snacks.

"What's that dear?"

He slapped the plate out of her hand.

"Now, Chuck, relax and breathe. It will pass."

"That blue bitch, she's blown up the ore. My ore, my inheritance." He clenched his fists

Mabel knelt on the floor and started to sweep up the mess.

"The blue woman again, Chuck? What has she done now?"

"Ruined me. What little hope I had that the ore may have been lost or stashed away has gone."

Mabel rubbed the back of his shoulders, "There, there, Chuck, you know becoming angry is not good for you. What's happened?"

"I'm going for a piss," he said, grumbling, and straightening his legs. "At least one part of my body works."

He shuffled into the bathroom as Mabel continued sweeping the floor.

Smiler examined himself in the mirror. His eyes exuded a coldness, a hatred as he gripped the sides of the sink. He let out a long breath and opened the door a fraction.

"Mabel?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Fuck time," he said in a flat commanding voice.

"Yes, dear," Mabel replied softly as she untied her apron and pulled the bedsheets straight.

She undressed and lay in position.

A short while later, Smiler appeared in an aroused state. Grunting, he knelt on the mattress and lowered himself. Taking his weight on his elbows, he thrust forward.

"Bitch. Whore," he said, gasping between clenched teeth.

"Oh, Chuck," Mabel said, whispering in his ear. "Let out your anger."

"Fucking blue bitch whore."

Afterwards, Smiler stared at the wall as Mabel spoke.

"I know it's been difficult for you. That's why I renamed you, Chuck. It's a new life, painful, yes. But it doesn't stop us enjoying ourselves."

He snapped back into the present. "Mabel, I used to be able to enter any room and work the people inside. Now I'm a freak, the one to pity, and everything I've worked for has been taken away from me by that woman."

"We have each other," she said, nuzzling up to him. "You have made good progress and have healed well. Perhaps we could have a break, get some sea air. I hear that Twex By the Sea is nice this time of the year."

He narrowed his eyes. "A holiday?" He said, huffing as he got dressed.

Shuffling across the room, he stood in the doorway and looked out across the fields. The sun was golden amber in its last throes of daylight.

He inhaled the earthy smells. Glancing back into the room, he saw Mabel humming to herself as she remade the bed. He studied the fields again, then examined the front and back of his hands.

"Holiday," he said quietly.

For a long time, he gazed into the distance, barely moving, unaware of the cool breeze. He stroked his bottom lip.

"A holiday may be a good idea, Mabel," he said, calling into the room.

"Oh, Chuck, could we?"

"Yes, Mabel, but not Twot On Sea or whatever it was. I'm talking about a tour around the galaxy. You'll love Symphony, it's a pleasure moon. When we arrive there in a few Association months, the weather will be perfect."

"I've never been off planet before."

"I have some unfinished business that needs to be taken care of. Plus, I have plenty of credits set aside for a rainy day in one of my accounts. But I can only access the funds at an Association bank."

"I don't know what my sister would say."

"Well," he said, glancing at the floor and clearing his throat, "we could always get married and say it is our honeymoon. I'm sure your sister would love to be a bridesmaid."

"Oh, Chuck," Mabel said, darting forward, and holding his hand, "wait until I tell her."

She ran, stumbling, out of the room.

"You do that," Smiler said after her.

He walked out onto the veranda, his pain temporarily forgotten. His eyes narrowed in thought.

***

One week later, after a quick wedding ceremony, the happy couple arrived at the Spaceport. With credits loaned by Mabel's sister, Smiler bought cheap tickets on a space bus heading to the nearest Association planet.

Before checking in for the flight, he left a nervous Mabel clutching her hand luggage whilst he visited a black-market dealer. He purchased various identity changers and made it back just in time for boarding.

Once settled in his seat, Smiler took off his hat and gloves and pulled out a tourist Galaxy map. Ignoring Mabel, who continually talked, he opened the map across his knees. Orientating himself by finding Elytia, he turned a page over and found Symphony.

"I've been reading a tourist galaxy map of my own, Chuck," Mabel said, nudging him in the side.

"Eh?"

"Yes, I've seen some places which would be lovely to visit on our travels. I've no idea where they are though, it's all so vast. The Upside-Down Mountains, a Noogan safari, and all the mega malls on Symphony. Not sure about robot city, though, they could all go crazy or something. Oh, and here's one. There's a zero-gravity festival on a moon called Zwqekqa ... something, it's completely unpronounceable."

"Zero gravity, who cares about that?"

"It has a pain relief pavilion."

Smiler went back to his map. The moon was labelled as a tourist favourite due to its festival. Checking its position in the galaxy, he placed his thumb on the moon and his little finger over the Symphony icon to gauge the distance. He turned to Mabel. "Zero gravity festival. Sure, it's on the way."

### Chapter 40

The four-week long Zero-G festival was held annually. Years ago, a group of pioneers were visiting a low gravity moon and accidentally set off a stream of beam particles inside their tent. They floated off the ground. After repeating the experience, they discovered a unique relationship between particle beams and the moon's rock core. Soon they had the idea of holding a festival, which grew each successive year. As well as sports tournaments, and children's and adult events, a whole area sprung up dedicated to health. Sufferers, particularly those in pain, were able to float in private rooms. Many swore by its effects.

Huge pavilions were built, all leading like the spokes of a wheel into a central bubble containing hotels, bars, and restaurants. There was an "anti-festival" festival, where all things non-corporate was celebrated, out in a deserted sector.

A light rail system from massive landing hubs could take guests and day trippers, between each bubble. Festival work offered opportunities for thousands of people, both on the moon and the planet it orbited. Being only a two-hour journey, travellers could enjoy a day at the festival and be back in their planetary hotel by evening.

Brell and Wanda were billeted in a female-only dormitory near the cargo docks on the main planet.

One morning, a sign saying _The Pink_ _Palace_ was hung up above the woman's doorway by a man from the opposite dormitory. The next day a sign appeared above the men's door; _The Jerkers Club – members only._

They both quickly settled into a routine with their fellow pilots. Their job was to pilot small cargo freighters back and forth between planet and moon. Delivering general supplies, drink, and food on the outward journey, they ferried trash back on their return.

Brell particularly enjoyed her turn at being the lead pilot, as it meant she had a perfect front seat view of the approach to the moon. Lights from the hundreds of craft haphazardly flitting around its surface gave the appearance of buzzing insects. The bubble domes and their linked pavilions looked like illuminated jellyfish.

The social life with the other pilots, particularly the women, was of great comfort to Brell, especially since her release from prison. They all knew of her from her Convict Challenge days. Though relatively new to piloting freight compared to the others, she was welcomed like an old work colleague.

One evening, Fifi, a heavyset pilot with a half-shaved scalp, slammed a two hundred credit chip onto a communal room table. She challenged anyone to an arm wrestling contest. Wanda accepted. With Brell acting as her second, Wanda won the event to cheers and applause. It was clear to Brell that it was not the first time Wanda had taken part in such an event. Her moves and body positioning earned her the nickname of "snake hips."

Wanda shook hands with Fifi, who, in an unusual admission of surrender, passed over her credit chip.

"Fancy a drink?" Wanda said, "I'm buying." She held up the credit chip.

"Sure," Fifi said, surprised at the offer.

Adjourning to a pilot's bar, Wanda, Brell, and Fifi with her friends enjoyed a raucous evening. Wanda revealed her arm wrestling secrets to Fifi, which they re-enacted to cheers, ending with Fifi putting an arm around Wanda and saying, "I love you." Brell discovered one of Fifi's friends was a recovering intox addict. They drank a toast to each other with non-intox beer during each round of drinks.

Tucking Wanda into bed, Brell sat in her cubicle and pulled off her boots.

What a night to remember with a group of women pilots. Laughter, back-slapping, honesty, life stories, and rude jokes.

Brell was purely another pilot enjoying an evening with work colleagues. She enjoyed the pilot's life and the independence; how could she give this up? How could she factor in bringing up a baby?

From a buoyant feeling, her mood shifted down to one of despondency and guilt. She tried to sleep.

***

The following week, on a rare day off, Brell and Wanda travelled over to the festival moon with a clutch of discount coupons.

Meandering around a central bubble tent, they found themselves near a pain-free pavilion. People, barely able to walk or lying horizontally with their assistants, waited patiently in line. She casually gazed at the crowd, her eyes straying to a man limping forward with a woman at his side. He appeared to have received major burns, judging by the patches of red skin over his head and face. For a moment, he paused, turned, and stared across the area.

They locked eyes.

Brell froze. Her vision narrowed and her spine ran cold.

Wanda nudged her, "Hey look at that, anti-gravity chocolates, got to try one of them."

"Yeah, sure," Brell said uncertainly, tearing her gaze away.

"Are you okay? Have you seen a ghost?"

"Yes fine, one of those moments, you know. Must check on junior as soon as I can link up. Just an odd feeling," Brell said, rubbing her arms.

The man had disappeared inside a pavilion.

***

The next day, the women ate breakfast in silence before starting their shift. Wanda, as usual, read a daily bulletin and joked about some of the stories.

"Here's one. It says smack, back, and cracks. One of your fellow Celestians," she nudged Brell, "fell over yesterday. Someone took an image of her at exactly the wrong moment. She doesn't look very happy."

Brell glanced over. The image showed a woman with blue skin and a humorous expression of shock and surprise. She lay on the ground, mouth open, and eyes wide. Her dress had rucked up her thighs.

"What happened to her?"

"Seems she clattered into a disabled man."

"What, and fell backwards?"

"Dunno."

"When was this?"

"Same place we were yesterday, a couple of hours after we passed through."

Brell tapped her fingers on the table. "Can I have a look?"

She read the entire article. It was a brief, jokey piece, with no mention about the male involved. There was a competition for readers to send in a caption of what the woman was saying.

"Okay, Brell?"

"Spooked me a bit, that's all," she gave a wane smile to Wanda. "Saw a man in the crowd filing into one of those pain relief pavilions. He reminded me of someone from the Locardum business, the man who was after me. I saw a building collapse on top of him on Kaznac. He couldn't have survived."

"It was probably some drunk arsehole who knocked into that woman. The bloke in the queue just looked similar, that's all."

"Yeah, more than likely," Brell said, rubbing her hands through her hair.

### Chapter 41

As soon as Brell told Lottie she had arrived at Elytia's main spaceport, Lottie sent the utility bots around the apartment for the eighth time.

Wearing a new blouse, knee length dress, and black shoes, Lottie adjusted a brooch Spinney had given her after a weekend visit with her cadet friends. She stood with hands clasped in front of her, waiting by the door.

"Welcome back," Lottie said.

"Lottie, you're still here," Brell said on entering, weighed down with bags.

They had a brief hug, and Lottie settled Brell back into the apartment, ending up in the living room with drinks and snacks.

"So, was the festival job okay?"

"Yes, got a good bonus. It was hard work, but enjoyable. I bought you some things."

She opened a bag and passed over clothes and jewellery. "One piece of jewellery has moon dust inside."

"Wonderful," Lottie said, staring at the bags. "You're back. What are your plans for the next few weeks? It is less than two months until junior arrives."

Brell glanced at the floor.

"First, I'm going to do nothing for a while and eat ice cream. Then we'll discuss plans for junior, the birthing ceremony, guests, travel arrangements, etc. Anything else to report?"

"No, I doubled security checks every night, since your message. I have checked daily bulletins, problems at spaceports, nothing. No one resembling Smiler."

"Don't know whether you will understand this, Lottie, but I had a strange sense that I saw him looking at me, whilst he was waiting in a queue in one of the festival pavilions."

"I understand the concept, but logically, I would need more facts."

"Think of your creator's memories. When she went on a first-time date with someone, what did she think when she saw them?"

Shutting her eyes for a moment, Lottie hesitated. "Not all her memories are clear. There's a sense of 'am I doing the right thing' to 'he looks nice, I wonder what he is like in bed.'"

"Deeper."

"Hold on, this was the same man who stalked my creator. After a brief relationship, they argued and split up, but he remained infatuated with her. She spent a period of time worrying that he was spying on her. Once, she walked through a shopping mall and for a fleeting moment believed she saw him. Her thoughts changed from concern to fear."

"Did she see him?"

"She was uncertain, more a belief than fact."

"That's it. I bet she thought about that for a long time. Capture that, Lottie, as best you can."

Placing a hand on Brell's, Lottie said, "I sense it has upset you. Also, it is nice to see you back. I missed you."

"Thanks, Lottie. I missed you too. Well, next time, if there is a next time, I'll get you a job at the festival, you would love it. Perhaps as a traffic controller."

"Speeding ticket attendants, they can swivel on this," Lottie said holding up a middle finger.

Two days later Brell outlined her plans for the baby, equipment, feeding, and as many variables as she could consider. Her credit balance was healthy, due to the income from the Zero-G. Surveying the second bedroom, she pointed out where the cot could be placed.

"Are you employing a nanny?" Lottie said.

"Do you want the job?"

"I have been researching rearing a baby; it would leave no time to assist you in other ways."

"I think it best to have a full-time nanny; it would allow me to continue piloting, to earn credits." She glanced at Lottie, who nodded.

Silently, Brell returned to the living room.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Everything. Can you start planning the hotels on Symphony? I received a message from them, that we can use their sister hotel at a very reduced rate. I didn't want to stay in the same hotel where Gorst was murdered. The ceremony, though, has to take place there, because of the security arrangements. That's okay, we can enter the hotel just for that event."

"Guests?"

"Wanda and Scrivvens. Spinney can't get time off from the cadets. Brune is still recovering. Xadian and Katey, leave them be, but invite them to watch on live stream. From Gorst's family, there is his mother and father, plus his brother with his wife. I'll speak to his mother, Izzot, later."

"Okay," Lottie said.

Brell stood up. "I'm off out to the local boxing club. Been sitting on my arse for a long time at Zero-G."

***

Three days later, Brell showed no interest in progressing any plans for the baby. She stayed in bed until midday, appearing dressed only in pyjamas. Eating ice cream and snacks, she moped about the apartment or slept.

Lottie sent a message to Scrivvens, without telling Brell.

"Shouldn't we be discussing the baby?" Lottie said, later that day.

"Got ages yet," Brell said.

"But the guests, hotel, and travel plans?"

"All trivial compared to being responsible for junior. Every day, every week for years."

The next evening, Lottie found Brell opening kitchen cupboards.

"Knew you kept one for guests," Brell said, reaching up into a high cabinet.

She took the bottle of clear intox and a glass and returned to her bedroom. With one movement, she filled her glass and downed its contents in one go. A slight burning sensation was followed by its rush.

She poured another glass and opened a media screen. On navigating directly to the hotel's beam site, she logged in and watched the live images of junior inside his womb-like cocoon. A birth countdown timer ticked away underneath the image.

With some effort, she found the page that she had been thinking about for a long time.

It took two swigs to empty the glass. The liquid flooded her brain with its coping mechanism. She wiped her eyes, held out a finger and tapped the button marked _Termination_.

_Brell Sturlach – please input your personal code and look at the screen for your eye scan and say, "I confirm."_

Wiping her eyes again, she duly entered a string of numbers, stared at the screen, and spoke the words.

_Thank you. Gorst Ritsma_ \- _please input your personal code and look at the screen for your eye scan and say, "I confirm"._

She hadn't thought about this. Termination of a birthing pool baby was never going to be as simple as saying "yes." There was a vague memory of the conception contract. If a partner was deceased before the birth, their next of kin were required to give legal permission for a termination.

"Shit, fuck, crap," she said. It would involve Gorst's parents being informed.

With the intox blurring her mind, she topped up her glass. She drank half of it before dropping the glass on the floor. With elbows on the table, she placed her head in her hands. In-between her sense of the present and the effect of the liquid, she relived watching the building collapse on top of Smiler. She stared at the destruction. A movement occurred, and a head emerged from underneath a pile of bricks. Slowly the figure arose and stood up straight. It was holding a baby.

"Hello, bluey, thought I'd gone?" the figure said. Its face was covered in red and black patches of skin. "I'm coming for you and your baby."

A knock on the door snapped her out of her nightmare.

"Go away."

Lottie entered the room.

"Leave me alone."

"You told me to stop you drinking."

"Did I? Well, I am weak, Lottie," Brell said, lifting her head. Strands of hair were wet from sweat, and a dribble of intox ran down the corner of her mouth.

"Brell, what do you want?"

"I want the baby. I don't want the baby. I don't know what to do." She wiped her mouth.

Her legs wobbled as she stood up. "Wow, that stuff is strong. It's warm in here." She held the hem of her pyjama top and waved it to circulate air. "Sleepy."

Lottie watched Brell plonk herself onto the bed, her head hitting the pillow. Soon, there was snoring.

Checking Brell's breathing, Lottie rolled her onto her side, opening her mouth. She wiped a wet flannel over Brell's face.

Having scrutinised the content on Brell's screens, Lottie switched all the comms devices off and called the doctor and Scrivvens. She spent a few minutes tidying the room, putting clothes and personal items away.

"Doctor Dropout" arrived within the hour.

Bounding into the apartment wearing his usual highly-coloured shirt, his beard had been trimmed and he had braided his hair with red threads. An ex-drug addict turned doctor, he had previously saved Brell's life from an overdose of Deep Yellow administered by Smiler.

"How is she?"

"Been asleep since drinking your concoction."

Examining Brell's eyes and fingertips he said, "Wonderful, wonderful. Okay, let's bring her round."

He sprayed a small wisp of something into her nose.

Brell roused and rolled onto her back.

"That's it, take your time," the doctor said.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Doctor Dropout, as you know me. Um, Lottie called me it earlier. I don't mind."

"My head is exploding, what the frig."

"Lottie, some water, if you please."

Eventually, Brell sat up in bed. "Okay, what is going on? I drank intox, fell asleep and the doctor is here."

"It wasn't intox, it was my own special mix. The bottle was planted by Lottie."

Lottie stood with her arms folded, a scolding expression on her face.

"I've brought a supply of my special smoke tubes and concoctions to take weekly. I'm not offering you any counselling or advice. You're old enough to sort yourself out. But if you want tea and a chat, then let me know," he said, pointing a finger at her.

"Thanks, Doc, appreciate your help and conspiracy with Lottie. When you've gone, she will have a lot to answer for," Brell said.

"If you need anything, give me a call." He breezed out of the room, Lottie following behind.

Brell heard the door closing, and when Lottie did not appear, she said loudly, "Lottie, get your arse in here."

Meekly, Lottie entered the room and stood by the door.

"Yes?"

"What have you been up to?"

"I believed you may go on a bender like before, so spoke with Scrivvens and the doctor. He supplied a bottle of special liquid. Tastes and acts the same, but the effect is to knock you out, which it did. It was meant as a warning. I also saw the last screens you were reading."

Deflated, Brell drooped her shoulders. "About that."

"You don't have to explain. I have read a few manuals. Your behaviour is in line with many women who have doubtful feelings about having a baby."

"Doubtful feelings."

"Doubtful feelings. Also from what you said, you have been upset by thinking about Smiler."

"Smiler?"

"Are you going to repeat everything I say?"

"Yes, because it's all true, Lottie. I've always wanted a family, but since Gorst has gone, I am unsure whether I would be a good mother. My stomach lurches in fear one moment and excitement the next."

"Well, Inspector Scrivvens is on his way over, he will know what to do."

"Do you give Scrivvens a running commentary about me?"

"No, not everything, that was for Delta's ears only. There's a quite a few things that you do that I don't tell anyone about."

"That's nice to know. I won't ask you what that is; otherwise, you'll give me a list."

"Correct. It's a long list, actually. Now, I prescribe it's time for something to eat, and I will be available later if you want to talk about anything."

"Thanks, nursey. I'm going to have a shower. Bloody spy bots, meddling with everything."

***

When Scrivvens arrived, he spent a while filling Brell in on his travels.

"My parents are fine. I visited Katey, as well, and fixed some of her bots. She is working hard making a go of the farm. Her mother became ill after finding out what happened to the Locardum."

"Were Delta's memory tubes in one piece?"

"Yes, perfect condition. I'm on the lookout for a suitable bot."

"I'll let Lottie know, she'll keep an eye out. Did Percy ever visit?"

"Yes, but Katey described him as a disappointment. Okay when following orders at the farm but lacked any humour or personality."

"I'm sure she'll find Mr Right one day. From all those shootouts to working a farm, at her age, good luck to her."

"You'll like this. I've been given a special position as a freelance troubleshooter to keep me quiet since being reinstated. I'm off soon to assist in the investigation of a murder, believed by a bot, assassin-style. Unheard of on the planet in question," he said. "I still aim to make your birthing ceremony."

"It would be nice if you could. Your job sounds very interesting; if you need any civilian freelance cargo freighter pilot assistance, give me a call."

"I know about the doctor's visit," he said.

"I'm sure Lottie, the robot spy, filled you in."

"Yes, well when she contacted me a couple of days ago, I called up the doctor and we concocted a plan."

"And I did exactly as you guessed." She raised her eyebrows and put her hands in the air.

"Brell," Scrivvens said. He wrinkled his forehead and gazed at her.

She rubbed her head. "Junior fills me with happiness, dread, doubt, and contentment."

"Have you spoken to Gorst's parents?"

"Briefly, about the arrangements."

"Speak to Izzot. Tell her how you feel. I can sit with you, if you want me to. I got to know the family quite well at the funeral."

"It's still difficult with his family. I couldn't attend the funeral and I know that they often talked to Gorst about me, my past, and my suitability to date their son."

"They can be narrow minded. I had to duck enough questions myself about marriage."

"Would you mind staying here? I'll set it up and send Lottie into her bedroom."

"Not at all, I can see it is causing you a lot of stress."

"Wanda was a godsend at the Zero-G, and being a mother herself, you know, we talked a lot. However, I thought that bottle of intox would allow me to float away for a few hours. I'll send Izzot a message now."

After a light dinner, Lottie retired to her bedroom whilst Brell readied herself.

"Ready?" Scrivvens said. "Remember, don't mention much or anything about Lottie, it goes against the grain of their religious beliefs. Found this out when I got there, had to leave Delta in the hotel room. Utility bots without personality fine, but not one with a voice or independent thought. I think Gorst was okay with it, wasn't he?"

"Yes. But he often said he preferred to do business with real people. It was his way of satisfying his parent's beliefs and swerving any religious discussion."

Izzot appeared on the screen. In her sixties, she had a round face with age lines around her eyes. Her attempts at smiling consisted of a slight crease at the corner of her mouth.

"Hi, Brell, and nice to see you again, Mr Scrivvens. How are you keeping? Saw both of you on the news," she said, her lips twisting slightly.

"Been a difficult period for both of us, Izzot. We are not forgetting Gorst's memory and the effect on all of you," Scrivvens said.

Brell was already thankful Scrivvens was with her; he had a way of saying things, calming situations down, whereas she would dive in at the deep end.

"Thank you, Mr Scrivvens. Yes, it is hard on all of us. Brell, how are you coping?"

"Okay, never a day goes past when I don't think of him, but I've been back to work."

"Good. Life goes on, as they say. Now, how are we doing with the preparations for the birthing ceremony? We are so excited here," she said.

"Izzot, I'm with Brell because she needs to talk through some things. It has been an emotional time and I'm here to support her. Brell?"

She held Scrivvens's hand and began talking.

### Chapter 42

Once the space cruiser had settled into its flight path, Mabel repeatedly fidgeted in her seat next to Smiler.

"Mabel, what is it?" Smiler said without emotion.

"Chuck, I want to go home, back to Kaznac. See my sister and family again."

"That shithole?"

"Since the Zero-G visit, you've become very broody. What happened on that moon? Was it the blue woman you bumped into and knocked over? Does she remind you of the other one?"

"Don't mention that woman, Mabel."

"Why such a rush to get here, anyway?"

"I have some business to attend to, which occurs in four days' time. After that, we will travel back to Kaznac."

She dabbed her eyes. "All these different identities, I feel like a crook, I mean I normally just bake cakes and bread."

Smiler remained silent and glanced out of the window.

"Mabel. Listen I didn't want to say anything too early, but do you know what Symphony is well known for?"

"Mega malls?"

"Yes, and secure birthing pools. We could conceive a baby together, if you wish?"

"Oh, Chuck, that would be wonderful."

"I just need you to take out some more loans. Three new identities, thirty thousand credits should do it. We can buy a standard conception ceremony and return in nine months or longer to collect the baby."

"Oh, Chuck, could we?"

"You deserve it, Mabel." He patted her head with the side of his hand.

***

Approaching Symphony's customs and immigration desk, Mabel took the lead as normal, leaving Smiler to limp behind.

She passed over identity documents.

The clerk placed them on his holograph plate and nodded.

"Okay. We do blood identity analysis here. Place your fingers on the pad."

A flexible arm slid out from a concealed slot in the clerk's desk and a small pad opened.

"My husband has boiled blood, touching an intrusive pad causes pain; have to call a doctor, as he will collapse, won't you dear?"

"Yes," Smiler said, holding up his hands.

"Okay, spit test for him."

Mabel placed a finger on the pad. A needle pricked the skin and sent the results instantaneously to the clerk. He waved her through.

Another arm appeared with a small cup, which extended towards Smilers mouth. He spat into it.

"Go through," the clerk said on examining a screen.

As soon as he could, Smiler discarded the gum in his mouth. Imbued with saliva from a false identity, it tasted of dirt.

"Another success, another set of stupid customs people, eh?" Smiler said.

They made their way out of the spaceport straight into a mega shopping mall. Smiler dragged Mabel by the elbow as she gawped at the size of the shops. Once seated inside an auto cab, Smiler spoke an address. The vehicle zipped off to an old part of the city.

He patted Mabel's hand. "Don't worry, a bit of business first, then you can hit the malls."

Mabel smiled wanly.

With Smiler at her side in the loan shops, Mabel took out three loans. On pocketing the credits, Smiler informed Mabel that they had one last visit to make.

"Stay in the cab, I won't be long." He extricated himself and walked down a narrow alley.

He stood outside a door which appeared to be held together by its faded paintwork. A sign stated: _Public Bathroom. Closed due to_ _health_ _hazard_.

Pressing a protruding button on a side wall he waited. A small flap slid down to expose a security system, its camera lens reflected his face.

"Yes?" a male voice said.

"I was told to say Symphony, it's the devil's work."

"Username?"

"Smiler."

"Look into the device."

Smiler did as he was told, and seconds later, there was a hiss of air as the door unlocked. Pulling at the edge with his fingers, he opened it enough to walk inside. The heavy door with its wooden façade clanged shut. Inside, the small reception room lacked any adornments or heat. A wall opposite him slid up to reveal a male standing behind a counter.

"Yes?"

"Two explosive grenades. One with timer, the other paired with a remote trigger. Both wrapped in security shielding. A small pistol, hard-tipped or laser. One male identity pass for spaceport security. One Anywhere space bus ticket."

The wall shutter closed. Five minutes later, the male appeared with an unmarked box. Smiler examined its contents and passed over one of Mabel's recently-acquired credit chips.

He returned to the cab and gave their hotel address.

"What's in that box that you tried to hide inside your jacket?"

"It's a special present for you, Mabel. I don't want you to see it yet. Call it a belated wedding present."

"I wasn't happy sitting in here, Chuck. Lots of hooligans walking past. I was all for telling the cab to take me back to the spaceport."

"Now, now, my dear, we will settle into our hotel room and then go shopping. Also, I think we should arrange a visit to a birthing centre, to make sure it is up to our expectations."

"Oh, Chuck, you know how to charm a woman."

"Thanks, Mabel," he said, gazing out of the window, his hand holding the box tightly.

***

As Mabel stood on the balcony, excitedly talking to her sister, Smiler interrogated the hotel's stream channel.

Official listings of birthing ceremonies were posted, together with its local council permission certificate. Before long, Smiler found Brell's birth ceremony and the room it was being hosted in. An invitation-only event meant no security access. He checked the other ceremonies, one event immediately before and one afterwards.

Next, he read the information attached to the ceremony details. In Brell's case, there was nothing. Other parties had posted tear-jerking accounts of how much they were looking forward to the birth. He examined the ceremony being held before Brell's.

A couple were celebrating the birth of a son. The mother was a woman and the surrogate father was her partner, a synthetic male. He read their gushing account of their wishes and desires, which described the ceremony as being "cosy" and "intimate."

In other words, no one else was attending.

He sent them a message.

_Hello._ _Myself_ _and my wife are here to arrange our conception ceremony and would like to attend a birthing ceremony as well to give us some ideas. We would love to attend your special, wonderful_ _event,_ _if you'll have us? It is a moment not to be missed. Please come and dine with us, as our guests. We would love to talk to you about your son._

Receiving a positive reply a few minutes later, Smiler gave Mabel some credits to buy a dress.

That evening, in one of the many restaurants inside the hotel, they met the happy couple. Though of differing ages, Mabel immediately shared the other woman's excitement for the imminent birth. Mabel was well versed in their cover story for Smiler's injuries; a house fire where he dashed back in to save her life. It was always received with shock and respect.

Smiler examined the couple. The woman was a nervous, gawky thirty-year-old wearing a long green dress that her auntie would have worn. Her partner, Marty, was a clean-cut male synthetic bot with gleaming teeth.

"We had fun choosing the father, you know, the donor," she said later after a couple of drinks. "I let Marty have the final say. Our boy is going to be the spitting image of him." She squeezed Marty's hand.

"Yes, that is correct," Marty said, in a monotone voice.

Smiler coughed as a way of stopping himself from laughing.

"I've been disowned by my family, and alas, no one wanted to attend our birthing ceremony," the woman said.

"Yes, that is correct." Marty tilted his head and smiled.

"That's a shame."

"Well. Myself and Marty have decided we would like both of you to be a witness to our birthing ceremony," the woman said.

Just as Marty was opening his mouth to agree again, Smiler interrupted him. "That is wonderful news, I'm really looking forward to it, aren't we, Mabel?"

"Yes, I'm really excited for you."

"Another drink?"

### Chapter 43

"Attention, please. We are one hour from Symphony and starting our descent. Secure yourself in your seats," the flight attendant announced.

"Nearly there, honey," Wanda said, patting Brell's hand.

Brell nodded and glanced at a viewing screen and watched the growing outline of Symphony.

Mixed emotions, she thought. She was glad Wanda and Lottie were travelling with her. The memories of her previous visit came flooding back. She tried to stop herself thinking about the shock of seeing Smiler on the hotel balcony after he had shot Gorst. A baby about to be born, its father already dead, where do you go from there?

A while later, they had settled into their two-bedroomed suite.

"So, Lottie, what's on our itinerary for the rest of the day?" Wanda said, after swigging from a beer bottle she took from a fridge.

"It is important that we go shopping for clothes this afternoon," Lottie said, unable to contain her excitement.

***

The first shop they visited was a baby store. With Wanda's help, Brell bought a large order of clothes, equipment, and a sleek blue glide pram. Then they trooped off to a mega-mall. With two outfits each, for tomorrow's family dinner and the birthing ceremony, it took most of the afternoon. Lottie spent a long time choosing underwear and hats.

When Wanda tried on a few dresses, Lottie continually tapped Brell's arm.

"Wanda in a dress," she said every time Wanda disappeared to try on another one.

With all their purchases being sent directly to their hotel room, they enjoyed a light evening meal. Lottie spent the whole-time bot-watching and commenting on their clothes and jewellery.

"The night's still young," Wanda said to Brell when they arrived back in their room.

"What do you have in mind?" Brell said.

"This is Symphony. I believe they have plenty of pleasurable activities here, just for the ladies. You know, specialist massages and the like," she said, nudging Brell.

Leaning into Wanda, Brell said. "What are you suggesting?"

"Depends on whether you are up for it," Wanda said, making eye contact, and swigging more beer.

"What would nursey prescribe?" Brell said, looking at Lottie.

"With Gorst's family arriving tomorrow and the birthing ceremony the following day, it is going to be a very stressful time for you. Anything you can do to minimise your stress levels would be beneficial for your personal wellbeing."

After a cab journey, Brell and Wanda arrived at Bliss, a plush upmarket establishment set within the women-only business quarter.

Once they had booked in, Wanda pushed Brell towards her allotted door. "Have some fun, you deserve it."

Ushered into a private room, Brell was met by a smiling hostess bot. "Good evening, madam, please take a seat and select your pleasure from our service menu."

Ranging from a foot massage to full interaction with pleasure bots, Brell tapped her fingers and grinned as she read the screen menu. None of the options were a surprise to her. She had visited places like this before, either during Police Corps raids or during hazy intox benders. But this was no grungy dead-end place with out-of-date licences and worn-out pleasure bots.

"At Bliss, we pride ourselves on privacy, no recording devices allowed. Bots memories are erased after each session. Your privacy and pleasure are our byword, madam."

With all that had happened, Brell knew she could be sitting on a floor in the corner of a room somewhere hugging her knees; drunk or worse. She drew strength knowing that Wanda was in the adjoining room, making a selection without embarrassment. A woman who lived for each day. Simple, uncomplicated, and loyal.

"Madam?" the assistant said, smiling pleasantly.

"Frick frack it," Brell said, "let's do this thing."

During the journey back to the hotel, a very relaxed Wanda gazed at Brell. They both giggled at each other like naughty schoolgirls.

"Well?" Wanda said.

"Well what, Wanda?"

"You know, full service or what?"

"I had the massage cocoon. Couldn't face contact with anyone or a bot, too early since, you know."

"And?" Wanda said, eyebrows raised expecting an answer.

Nodding, Brell said, "Good, very good. Like a release. How about you?"

"Someone else paying. On holiday," she said, taking a contented puff on her smoke tube, "I don't muck about. Had the full works."

Back in the hotel room, Lottie sidled up to Brell. "Pleasant experience?" she said.

"Yes, thank you, Lottie, very enjoyable."

Lottie nodded her head but didn't leave.

"What do you want, a complete rundown?"

"Yes, please, when you are ready," she said.

"Thanks for arranging it with Wanda. She appreciated it, as well," Brell said winking. "Hey, Wanda. How about a late supper in that restaurant by the sea?" Brell said.

"Yes, great, I've worked up a bit of an appetite, as it happens," she said.

Brell and Lottie elbowed each other at the same time.

### Chapter 44

Mabel woke early and for a moment needed to orientate herself. Having travelled for weeks, she had occasions where she could not remember which planet they were on. A glance around the room was enough. This was unlike many of the low-level hotels they had previously stayed in.

Smiler snored as she quietly got out of bed and stood up. First, she walked onto the balcony and admired the view. High-end hotels, malls, and a glinting sea. Flights were arriving and departing nonstop from the spaceport. The air smelled fresh.

After a while, she padded back into the bedroom and watched Smiler's chest rising. Standing still for a moment, she felt the plush carpet between her toes as she glanced around the room. She tiptoed over to the wardrobe and slid the door open. The safe was set within a side wall. Its door was blank until she touched its side when a small holo screen appeared containing a pad full of letters, numbers, and symbols.

Randomly, she touched a few keys. It remained shut. Breathing out, she glanced back at the bed. She rubbed her ear whilst trying another combination without success.

Relaxing her hands for a moment she examined the keypad more thoroughly. One of the symbols contained a smiley face. Quickly she typed, _whore,_ then _whore_ with a smiley face. Nothing. Smiley face followed by _whore_ _._ Nothing.

She ran the same sequence but substituted the words _bitch._ Again, no response.

It was when she typed in _bluebitch_ followed by the smiley face that the safe opened. Stifling a near shriek of joy, she examined its contents. There was a wad of credit notes, credit chips, and the black box Smiler had brought out of the back-street shop. She opened the lid a fraction and saw a slim tube-shaped device with a red button. Intrigued, she picked it up.

"Got you."

Mabel froze. She hunched her shoulders as if anticipating an attack.

"You, you."

Smiler fidgeting in bed, talking to himself. He turned over to face the other way, his arm moving to where Mabel would be laying. He groped around and woke up.

"Mabel?"

"Chuck, I'm going to the bathroom, go back to sleep."

She slid the wardrobe door shut and stood by the bathroom door, realising only then that she still had the slim tube in her hand.

Smiler brought his head up. "Eh?"

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinised the wardrobe door.

"Need the privy," she said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Facing the sink, she turned on a pink-coloured tap. Perfumed water flowed into the sink bowl, creating a soothing gurgling noise. She glanced at the door.

The device was basically a metal tube, which fitted into the palm of her hand. She rubbed her thumb gently over the single raised red button. Without thinking she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed it.

_Bang, bang_.

Smiler was knocking on the door. "I need a piss."

Jumping with a start, the device fell out of her palm and into the oily water.

Staring at the tube in horror, she watched small air bubbles break the water's surface. With one movement, she fished it out, shook it, and wiped it on a towel.

"Won't be a minute," she said, reaching over to the privy and the flushing console.

Stuffing the tube inside her underpants, she unlocked the door and let a grumbling Smiler inside. He glared at her.

He mumbled to himself and shuffled to the privy as Mabel left the room. The safe door was still slightly ajar. Biting her bottom lip, she slipped the device back into the box, and locked the safe. Quietly closing the wardrobe, she got into bed as Smiler appeared.

"What's the matter with you?" he said.

"Couldn't sleep, too excited about our conception ceremony and the present that you have got for me," she said, briefly glancing at him.

"The what? Oh, yes," he said, his voice groggy. "When it's set, you press the button on a special device, and my suggestion for the baby's name appears in mid-air with a load of confetti. Of course, you can pick an alternative name, but I thought it would be exciting for you."

He winced as he knelt on the bed.

"Oh, Chuck, you are full of surprises. I have to tell you something, though."

"Leave it for the morning, Mabel, my pain relief is kicking in," he said rolling over and away from her.

She rubbed him on the arm and snuggled up behind him, a relieved smile on her face.

***

Smiler awoke and instinctively put a hand out to check Mabel was in the bed. She was asleep. Stiffly rising, he walked around the room to loosen his legs. With a couple of glances at Mabel, he opened the wardrobe safe and examined the contents. All was in its place.

He went out onto the balcony and leant on the rail.

A short while later, Mabel joined him.

"Sleep okay?" he said.

"Yes, the last few hours were better. About the early hours thing this morning?"

"Mabel, it doesn't matter. We have a free day today before we go watch the ceremony tomorrow, what would you like to do?"

"Shopping. I need a new dress."

"Whatever you want, dear."

### Chapter 45

Brell's cube bleeped. Gorst's family had arrived at the hotel's reception desk.

"Wanda, I'm off to meet the family and see them to their rooms."

"Be okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

Making her way down walkways and elevators, Brell entered the reception. She greeted them in turn. Izzot was unsmiling and Gorst's father, Kimon, maintained a serious demeanour. Brell was aware that he had recently been suffering from ill health. Ramon, Gorst's younger brother greeted Brell warmly and then introduced his wife, Margot.

"I'll see you to your apartment and we can go over the itinerary."

"After you. This place is massive," Ramon said.

Utility bots brought up the suitcases to their suite. A holo assistant appeared and gave them a tour of the rooms.

"There's plenty to do here inside the hotel complex and the mega malls are not far away. I'll leave you to it. When you are ready, we can arrange a visit to the birthing facilities. Also, I've booked a restaurant meal for all of us this evening, if that's okay?" Brell said.

"Look forward to it. I'll walk you out," Izzot said.

Once beyond the apartment door, she looked at Brell. "How are you? Okay with all the arrangements?"

Brell paused and glanced at the floor. "Yes."

"Right, well. We'll see you at the birthing chamber."

***

Brell, Wanda, and Lottie arrived at the security entrance to the birthing rooms a couple of minutes late. The family had obviously been waiting there for a while. During introductions, Brell noticed the way they stared at Lottie, who was wearing a specially chosen dark grey business suit.

After a few silent moments, their guide arrived.

Brell pulled Lottie to one side.

"Lottie, please stay here and keep watch. We won't be too long," Brell said, noting the slight change in Lottie's expression.

"They don't want me inside, do they?" Lottie said.

"No. Smile and look happy."

"Okay, boss," Lottie said, clasping her hands in front of her smiling broadly.

The guide started their tour. "Welcome to our facility, the best on Symphony. We'll start with security. If you would like to present yourself to our desk assistant."

Each person, in turn, faced a screen, and after five seconds were waved through into a corridor, which was discretely lined with security devices and scanners. Beyond lay a circular lobby, decorated in muted colours, and furnished with plush seats.

"We have two rooms." The guide pointed to the two ornate entrance doors set a few metres apart from each other. "Each one is identical, soundproofed and private. Families and friends wait here in the lobby until called in. Please follow me."

The birthing room was a large square area with a bare floor and chairs neatly stacked against a side wall. A midwife's room was situated at the back.

"It looks empty because when the baby is brought in, some families wish to stand, others sit, and some dance. Do you have a choice?"

Brell was uncertain what to say until Izzot, spoke up. "We have a priest arriving tomorrow, so I think we could stand around the crib in celebration. Brell; would that be okay?"

"Yes, sounds fine," she said. Gorst would have gone with his mother's wishes.

"Do you have an idea of music or any other activities in mind?"

"Such as?" Brell said.

"Some families perform pagan, religious, or robotic rituals."

"The priest will be providing a chip containing plain religious music," Izzot said.

Brell nodded. She felt Wanda lightly touch her back.

"I will take you behind the scenes to explain how the baby arrives."

Using a security wristband, the guide unlocked the door and ushered them into the midwives room.

"Your midwife, who is a real person, unlike other birthing facilities, prepares the baby for the ceremony. This room serves both birthing rooms. Don't worry, security is our watchword. An elevator carries the baby, still in its incubator, up from the birth chambers in the basement. During this time, the womb covering is removed from the baby's body automatically. The midwife then places the incubator here." She showed them a clean metallic glide trolley.

"Underneath, you can see the life support equipment, so when the trolley is wheeled into the ceremony room, it is self-supporting. When you are ready, she starts the birthing process via the controls."

"Any questions?"

Brell looked at the others. "No I think you have covered everything. Thank you."

Izzot touched Brell's arm. "Your robotic assistant, is she coming to the ceremony tomorrow?"

"I'm aware of your views about robots with personalities, but Lottie is different."

Izzot raised an eyebrow.

"She has been imbued with her creator's memories. All of them. The woman was a scientist and robotics engineer who died young. Lottie saved my life, and I want her to be present and experience the ceremony. We can arrange for images to be taken with and without her, if that helps."

Izzot shared a glance with her husband. "Okay, as you wish."

On returning to the security lobby, Brell spotted Lottie talking to a bot wearing a blue pair of overalls, peaked hat, and black boots. Its male face was plain-featured with nose, ears, eyes, and a mouth which vaguely moved as it spoke. Fixed around his waist was a tool belt brimming with all manner of devices.

"Okay, Lottie?" Brell said.

"Yes, this is Cedric, he maintains everything here."

"Cedric, at your service," the bot said in a long, drawn-out drawl. He moved a finger slowly to the tip of his hat. "There is nothing I cannot fix, madam."

"Good to hear it, Cedric. Lottie, we have finished here."

"Goodbye, Cedric," Lottie said.

"Thank you, Miss Lottie, it is a pleasure to meet such a refined and beautifully dressed woman bot," Cedric said, raising his hand to wave.

The elevator had shut by the time he brought his hand back down.

"Everything okay Brell?" Wanda said.

"Yes; it's easier to let Izzot run the show, I think, Wanda. But," she turned to Lottie. "I'll be straight with you. Gorst's parents are funny about you attending the ceremony tomorrow, also I think it best if you don't sit with us this evening."

"Yes, Brell."

"I know you bought a lovely dress and everything, but I will make it up to you. I didn't think they would be this disapproving."

"I can stay away from the ceremony and watch it live on image stream."

"No. I want you to experience the birth. We have been through a lot. This is the culmination of nine months of hell, and I want you there."

"Thank you. Is there anything else you wish me to do for the baby arrangements?"

"No, I think we have everything under control. If you could meet Scrivvens whilst we dress ready for this evening, I would be obliged."

"Certainly."

"This meal is going to be a real bag of laughs," Wanda said.

***

Scrivvens arrived with barely enough time to get changed. After a quick chat, they made their way down to the restaurant, leaving Lottie behind.

The family were waiting for them as they trooped towards the circular dinner table. Scrivvens gently pushed Brell into a seat next to Gorst's brother, whilst he sat by Izzot. Wanda found herself in-between Margot and Kimon. She smiled but gave Brell a stare.

As Brell talked, she realised Ramon spoke, laughed, and ate the same way as Gorst. An accountant with a chubby face, and round girth; his sedentary life was the opposite of his late fit, Police Corps brother.

She glanced around the table. It was clear from the cheerful look on Kimon's face that he was enjoying speaking to Wanda. A certain change from the stilted conversations back home.

Scrivvens, Brell knew, had purposefully sat next to Izzot to save her the ordeal. She could hear his polite conversation and was relieved he had travelled across the galaxy to be here.

Ramon's wife was pleasant. She was not afraid of talking about Gorst and the bittersweet excitement of tomorrow.

"Are you all set for motherhood, Brell?" she said.

"Yes. It's been a challenging nine months. But it is time to move on and set down some roots."

"What happened to Gorst, made us re-assess. We have moved into a new home, at last, so we are thinking about starting a family. A natural birth, preferably, in line with Ramon's religion. We hope to compliment your baby boy by having a little girl," she said.

Brell leaned across, concerned her voice would be heard by Izzot. "Best of luck. Gorst was happy with a birthing pool baby, probably to keep me quiet." She rubbed her thumb on her cheek. "I'm not very religious, it doesn't take much to work that out. But Gorst was wonderful, he stood by me, despite the many things I did against his religious codes."

"He worked around the galaxy. I think it can change your point of view, especially being in Police Corps," Ramon said. He leaned over to Brell, "Don't tell mum, but we have employed an assistant bot to help with home and work. It has to hide whenever she comes to visit."

Brell saw Izzot dabbing her mouth, her eyes examining Wanda and her husband. She could hear snippets of Wanda re-telling her old cargo pilot stories. At one point, Wanda clinked her beer glass against his wine glass. Brell saw Izzot's eyes narrow.

The food and service were of high order and to Brell's relief, there was no lull in the conversation. It was a good sign.

After the final course, Izzot tapped a glass and waited for a pause in conversation. "Tomorrow there will be a lot of tears and periods of quiet reflection. Tears of joy at the birth of our grandson, and sadness that the boy will be born without his father. We take strength from a new life being born. Please raise your glasses and toast Brell, the mother to be."

"Brell," they all repeated.

"Thank you. Gorst would have been looking forward to the birth ceremony more than anything. Of course, I can't bring him back, but if junior inherits even a small percentage of his family's pedigree, then he will be a boy to be proud of. Thank you." She wiped her eyes.

Scrivvens put an arm around her shoulder as Wanda said, "It'll be okay, honey."

Wiping her nose, Brell sat up. "Sorry everyone, talking about Gorst sets me off."

"We understand, we think what you are doing is very brave," Ramon said.

### Chapter 46

Smiler sprayed his hands and face and waited for the stinging to stop. Mabel, wearing only a towel, excitedly laid out her clothes and jewellery.

"Going for a bath," she said.

Once Mabel was fully ensconced in the bathtub, Smiler opened the safe and fetched out the grenade with the integrated timer. He placed it in his bedside cabinet. Humming to himself, he slowly put on his loose-fitting jacket suit. Next, he drank a strong concoction combining pain relief and a slow release energy booster.

He was still admiring himself in the mirror when Mabel appeared.

"Mabel," he said, "I've just had a call. We need to complete a personal questionnaire for the conception ceremony baby thing. Could you do us a favour and go to the Far End restaurant and pick up a hand-held screen, then meet me at our new friends' birthing room? Afterwards, we can come back here and give some thought to whether you want a male or female baby and its attributes and so on."

Mabel's face flushed, her hands brushed her sides, and she looked around at her clothes. "Certainly, Chuck, I'll just get dressed. Is it a long way?"

"It's at the other end of the complex, but you have plenty of time. I suppose that's why it's called the Far End."

Whilst Mabel busied herself with her dressing routine, Smiler deftly picked up the grenade and walked onto the balcony.

He set the timer for thirty minutes.

Scrutinising Mabel for a moment, he relaxed on seeing she had placed a handbag with shoulder strap on the bed.

"You look wonderful Mabel. What a joy it will be having a child with you."

She smiled broadly and popped into the bathroom.

In no time, he had opened the handbag and pushed the grenade deep inside.

Re-appearing, she shuffled around, checking on her makeup, and went back into the bathroom. Smiler wiped his hands down his trousers as he stared at the handbag.

Five minutes later, she was ready. Smiler gently motioned her to the door, making sure she had put the handbag's shoulder strap on properly.

"You look wonderful. I'll see you at the birthing ceremony."

"I can't wait," Mabel said.

She kissed him and left. He watched her disappear along the corridor. "Thanks for getting me here, Mabel," he said as he closed the door.

After checking his chronometer, he opened a media screen and checked the spaceport departure schedule.

With his suit brushed down, he adjusted his hat. Retrieving the other grenade and the detonator, he rolled both items tightly inside the shielding material. Carefully, he stuffed the roll into his underpants, right underneath his crotch. He picked up the pistol and spent a moment stuffing it inside his trousers. After examining himself in the mirror he shook his head and replaced the pistol back in the safe.

He took an elevator down to the birthing level, ignoring the other hotel guests.

"I have an invitation for a birthing ceremony," Smiler said, to the desk assistant.

He smiled at the scanning screen.

"Accepted, please enter."

Relaxing his shoulders and breathing steadily, he walked along the security corridor with his head held high. With no alarms sounding, he grinned and entered the waiting room.

The happy couple stood outside the birthing room holding hands.

"We can't believe it's going to happen."

"Yes, that is correct," Marty said.

A midwife appeared and propped the main door open with her foot whilst ushering them inside.

"I apologise for Mabel not being here, she ate something that disagreed with her."

***

Mabel was lost. After asking several people and bots for directions, she had still not reached the Far End restaurant. Wandering along yet another corridor she sat down on a cosy alcove seat and drew her breath. She examined her small chronometer, set within a piece of recently purchased jewellery. A gift from Chuck.

She stroked its casing.

As she took out a handkerchief from her handbag, she paused in thought. With a wrinkled brow, she put her hand back inside and touched the grenade casing. She withdrew her fingers quickly as if receiving a jolt from a live circuit.

Panicking, she stood up and ran to the end of the corridor. A holographic virtual assistant popped up. "May I help you?"

With fumbling hands, she took out the grenade and held it up.

"He told me he loved me."

"Would you like a love poem?"

"He betrayed me."

"Would you like some soothing music?"

As if suddenly understanding what she was holding, she dropped the grenade and made to run.

The timer counted down.

Mabel had barely turned on the heels of her new shoes when the grenade exploded with a whump. The violence of the blast ripped through her clothes and into her soft body. She died instantly.

Alarms and sirens sounded.

"Madam, there seems to have been an accident, should I call for help?" The virtual assistant said.

***

Smiler glanced at his chronometer and grunted to himself; thirty minutes had passed. The visitor's doors remained closed with no sudden visits by security guards.

Though maintaining a smile throughout the ceremony, he studied the midwife's movements. In particular, he watched as she held up her wristband to the door of her room.

Background music swelled as the baby was "woken" up. Its cord was cut by the joyful couple and sealed by the midwife. She checked the baby over and stood back.

After the tears and congratulations, the midwife said, "I will leave you to enjoy the moment. When you are ready, please continue your celebrations in any of our charming hotel lounges."

She stepped back towards the private door, turned around and waited. A sign that the ceremony was over.

"If you would excuse me, I would like to go and check on Mabel," Smiler said to the couple. "Thank you so much for inviting me here. Good luck."

Smiler shook the robot's hand, touched the mother's arm, and left them cuddling the baby in the middle of the room.

He walked towards the midwife.

"I just wanted to thank you for the service."

"That's quite alright," she said back.

He reached forward and in a sudden movement, fixed his hand on her wrist and pushed it behind her towards the door. Twisting awkwardly, she tripped over her feet. The door unlocked and they were both propelled inside.

Manhandling the woman to the floor, he placed his foot onto her wrist, reached down into one of her pockets, and grabbed a pair of laser-edged scissors.

Swiftly, he cut off the security wristband.

"Stand up," he said, pressing the scissors into her neck.

He glanced around; the door had swung shut on its own and no other staff were in the room.

"Delivery pod for Sturlach Ritsma baby," he said.

The midwife went to protest, but Smiler dug his fingers into her arm and twisted her skin. She got to her feet and walked alongside him until they were near the door to the other birthing ceremony room.

"Delivery pod for Sturlach Ritsma," he said, jabbing the scissors into her arm.

She let out a low sound of pain.

"Shut up or you won't be able to scream."

She stood in front of a trolley, inputted a set of security numbers and symbols. Finally, she stared briefly into a yellow light beam.

"I, I need my wristband."

Smiler grabbed it out and held it up towards the screen. A brief acceptance tone sounded.

"Show me the details," he said.

_Sturlach – Ritsma baby,_ was displayed on the screen.

"Perfect," he said.

### Chapter 47

Brell glided the baby pram through the security corridor, followed by Wanda and Lottie. Despite their time choosing outfits, they all wore similarly styled knee-length dresses and jackets. At least the colours were different. Lottie had chosen to wear a pillbox hat. She had stood for ten minutes in front of the mirror adjusting it on her head.

Inside one of Brell's pockets was a square embroidered piece of material which her mother had sent her. It was a piece Brell had created when at school aged eight. It was her planet's emblem, emblazoned in various hues of blue. That said, she had no regrets about not asking her mother to attend, though she hoped she would be watching the ceremony on live stream.

"Okay?" Wanda said, rubbing Brell's arm.

"Yes. I'm surprised we got here before the others."

She glanced along the security corridor. Izzot was talking to a security guard, who had appeared from a side room. His face showed tension as he double checked everyone's passes. A priest wearing brown robes calmly stood nearby.

Brell paused on seeing the security guard's expression. "Lottie, have you heard from Scrivvens?"

"No, I'll send him another message," she said.

The door from the other birthing room opened, and Brell saw a woman and a male bot appear holding a baby. The woman's face was a mixture of joy and uncertainty. She turned as if to say something to Brell, but hesitated on seeing the arrival of Izzot and the family. The couple made their way out towards the security desk.

Lottie stepped to one side as Brell and Wanda greeted the family. Kimon spent time shaking Wanda's hand and engaging in quick banter.

"Everything okay back there?" Brell said to Ramon.

"Some sort of security alert inside the hotel," he said.

Brell rubbed her chin and glanced at the other birthing room door, where the couple had recently appeared.

"And this is Father Podan," Izzot said.

"Nice to meet you," the priest said as he shook her hand. "And is that your robotic assistant?"

Lottie stood on her own, smiling, like a girl left at the side of a dancefloor. As if by intent rather than coincidence, Cedric the maintenance bot appeared from an invisible side door. He slowly raised a hand to the tip of his hat on greeting Lottie. Brell smiled and turned back to the priest, forgetting what she was going to say.

At that point, the main door to their birthing room opened and an unsmiling midwife poked her head out.

"Miss Sturlach?"

"Yes?"

"Madam, could you come inside, please? I just need to go over a few things."

"Certainly. Excuse me," she said to the others, grateful for not having to engage the priest in any conversations about religion or robots.

As she stepped inside, a hand grasped her jacket and pushed her against a wall. Before she could make sense of the situation, she staggered on receiving a punch to the stomach.

"That felt good," Smiler said, caressing his knuckles. "It was worth the pain." He tilted his head and spoke towards the midwife. "Lock the door."

She did as he asked.

Brell managed to stand up. She stared into the male's face and its patchwork of red and raw skin. A wave of recognition and what that meant washed over her.

"Smiler?"

"The very same."

She looked towards the entrance.

"I would stop if I were you," he said.

He held up the detonator switch.

"I press this, and see that explosive attached to the lid? Boom. Little Johnny bastard in there dies before he is born."

Shocked, Brell saw a round-shaped device stuck to the see-through lid of a birthing trolley. It had been fixed down with lengths of medical tape.

Stunned by Smiler's appearance, her mind went into overdrive.

Smiler stabbed the midwife in her side, causing her to clutch herself. "Sit down," he said, calmly.

The midwife fell into a chair.

"What do you want?" Brell said.

"I want to ruin your life, kill you and the little bastard here. I have nothing left. My good looks, credits, all I have dreamed of, taken away by you on that farm. You stole the Locardum from me. From me." His anger made his face turn red even through his blotchy skin.

He paced up and down, then came right up into Brell's face and pointed the scissors at her throat.

"Take me, leave the baby," she said, putting her hands up.

Grasping the handle of the baby crib, he pushed it backwards and forwards. "Here we are, little bastard, a nice bomb for you. She stole something from me." He leaned over and examined the baby through the cover. "And you, my lad, are going to pay for it."

With a quick movement, he cut into the tubes and apparatus underneath the crib. An urgent repeating alarm sounded.

"There, probably run out of air or whatever it is the baby feeds on. Be dead within minutes."

He stepped back and motioned with the scissors. "Come and look."

Brell examined her baby, cocooned within the safety of the crib. His body was covered with a light white sheet. Though his eyes were closed, he was smiling. Her thoughts of her own survival were put to one side as she frantically examined the destroyed mechanism underneath the crib. She didn't know where to start.

She stood up and started to pull at the grenade's binding. There was no doubt about the destruction the explosive would cause.

"I want to capture this moment. A perfect picture, mother and baby," Smiler said. "Here comes the best part. Ready?" He stepped back a few paces.

Brell looked up to see Smiler holding the detonator with his thumb poised over the red button. She stopped her efforts to dislodge the grenade and tensed her shoulders, her legs suddenly weak. She stared at the baby.

Smiler pressed the button.

Nothing happened. He pressed it continuously with the same result.

Brell grabbed the trolley and pushed it to the side wall. Smiler rushed forward swinging his hand and caught her arm with the tip of the scissors. As she reacted to the pain, he readied himself for another lunge.

The midwife's door burst open.

Lottie ran in, stretched out her arms, and grabbed Smiler around the waist. Tottering, he wriggled and lashed out at her. His grip loosened and he dropped the detonator.

Brell swatted the detonator away with an open hand. It skidded across the floor.

Seizing Lottie's intervention, she rushed to the crib and frantically managed to peel off the tape securing the explosive. With an expectation that it would detonate at any moment, she tossed it along the floor to the other side of the room.

Smiler continually thrust the scissors into Lottie's back as he twisted himself to loosen her grip.

Wanda appeared at the midwife's doorway with Gorst's brother and mother.

"Wanda, get the baby outside, check the trolley, check he's breathing," Brell said with urgency.

Without questioning, Wanda rushed forward, grabbed the trolley, and pulled it into the midwife's room with Izzot joining her.

Cedric entered the midwife's room and meandered by the two women urgently examining the underside of the crib. He entered the birthing room and oblivious to the fighting, fixed his gaze on the detonator.

"What is this? A device?" He picked it up and thumbed the red button three times. "Broken needs fixing, won't take a jiffy."

He hummed to himself as he sat down next to the injured midwife. He selected a small-headed instrument, examined it, and started to unscrew the detonator's casing.

Finding an empty vase, Brell swung it at Smiler's head. It smashed but made no difference. He swung the scissors into Lottie's back and pushed at her, managing to wriggle free from her grasp. Receiving internal damage, Lottie floundered and fell over, as her systems tried to re-route power.

Brell became aware of Ramon's presence behind her. "Grab him, trip him up."

Smiler, now free of Lottie's hold, stepped back, and flailed out furiously with the scissors.

"Ah, I see oily water damage. Connections need cleaning," Cedric said.

Brell stumbled over Lottie's legs, at which point Smiler reached forward and locked an arm around her throat. He dragged her sideways.

Ramon tried to push and punch Smiler, but it had no effect.

"Move away," he said between gritted teeth. He held up the scissors and swiped them lightly into Brell's neck.

Ramon, sweating and flushing with his efforts, backed off. Lottie tried to get onto her knees but slipped.

"There," Cedric said, "just putting it back together."

Smiler dragged at Brell, forcing her across the room to the visitor's door.

"You. Fat man, open the door."

Brell could not loosen the tightness of Smiler's grip and her neck wound was smarting. Her feet moved almost involuntarily.

She felt an object ping off her shoe.

"Let's test the device," Cedric said.

Cedric brought his thumb up ready but stopped on seeing Lottie on her hands and knees. "Miss Lottie, are you okay? I have fixed this device. I'm just going to test it."

Lottie swung her head round to see Brell in Smiler's grip, Ramon's hands outstretched uncertainly and the grenade by Brell's feet. She saw Cedric's thumb paused above the red detonator button.

"Cedric. No. Brell, bomb going off. It's at your feet. It's at your feet."

Ramon launched himself at Smiler, grasping for the hand with the scissors. But Smiler's swiping movements made him back off. Ramon looked around desperately for a weapon, then started to take off a shoe.

Brell kicked out at the explosive but missed. Smiler tightened his arm. The edges of Brell's vision darkened as she began to lose consciousness.

A loud commanding voice boomed out. "Grenade at your feet, get out of the way."

Instinctively, she kicked a foot backwards and slid the sole of her shoe down Smiler's shin.

Cedric, unable to send a stop message to himself in time, watched his thumb continue its deadly path.

Ramon lunged forward and, with a dance-like move, brought the heel of his shoe onto Smiler's arm. In pain and surprise, Smiler loosened his grip.

With her brain foggy, Brell made one last attempt to free herself. She twisted around and clawed at Smiler's cheek. He cried out and brought a hand up to his face.

Cedric's thumb touched the top of the button.

Crouching slightly, Brell pushed her hands with all the force she could muster into Smilers chest. Joined, she realised by Scrivvens, they thrust Smiler backwards. He tottered, still clutching at his face, his leg frames unable to keep him steady.

"Grenade," Lottie said, shouting as loud as she could.

Without thinking, Brell spotted the grenade at her feet, swung her foot, and kicked out. It skimmed along the floor towards Smiler, who had crashed onto his backside.

The grenade rolled to a stop a few centimetres from his right hand.

Glancing at the grenade, Smiler curled his fingers around it and, finding Brell's gaze, laughed as he flexed his wrist, ready for a throw.

"Down," Scrivvens said, pulling Brell to the ground. He fell on top of her, with Ramon at their side.

The plunger slid down.

"Blue bitch. I..."

The explosion vaporised Smiler's hand, arm, and half his face. His neck and spine splintered. Practically nothing was left intact from the right side of his chest upwards. His clothes were shredded into single threads.

A shock wave shattered a stack of chairs behind him. Plumes of dust and fabric flew into the air. The floor was a blackened mess where the explosion had occurred. A small cloud hung in the air and there was an unpleasant smell of burnt flesh and plastic.

Boots sounded and a group of heavily-armed security guards ran into the room.

"Anyone hurt? Anyone tell me what happened?" A voice said.

Holding up a hand, Scrivvens said, "Yep, give us a moment, here." He roused himself to kneeling.

He helped Brell up and flopped her into a chair whilst she held her neck.

Opening her eyes fully, she saw weapons pointing at everyone.

Ramon sat next to her.

"It's okay. We are the good guys," Scrivvens said, wiping a hand across his forehead. "I'm Inspector Scrivvens, Police Corps."

Cedric stared at the detonator as Lottie stood up, using the wall to steady herself.

Soon, medicos were attending to the injured, including the midwife. Scrivvens talked to the security leader whilst standing by the remains of Smiler's body.

Brell sat still whilst a soothing healing patch was pressed onto her neck. She suddenly sat up, making the medico jump.

"Junior."

Wanda, who was still inside the midwife's room, leant her head around the doorway and shouted out into the main room. "He's fine, Izzot used another crib thing."

Brell relaxed back to allow the medico to finish their job. Cedric was examining Lottie's back, whilst Ramon was being attended to by his wife. Izzot wheeled in the crib with Kimon whilst talking to another midwife.

Are you okay?" Wanda said.

"Yes, oddly enough, with that bastard being dead."

"How do you do it?"

"You know me, Wanda, always in trouble."

Brell thanked the medico and stood up next to Scrivvens. She placed an arm around his waist. "Thanks," she said.

He made eye contact with her, then looked away. "All in a day's work. With you, anyway."

"His real name is Algernon Bryan Bickle. He's been after me for months," she said, for the benefit of the security officer taking notes.

"Also, and this is the reason why I was late, a woman died from a grenade explosion. I was passing through the area and went to assist. It may be connected," Scrivvens said.

"Classic Smiler diversion technique."

"Well," the security officer said, glancing across the room, "you have a hell of a group of family and friends."

Brell turned and regarded the others. "I certainly do," she said.

***

After a few hours of rest and much discussion, it was decided to hold the ceremony the following morning. Lottie was patched up by a bot specialist and Brell and the others were given further medical checks. With security guards placed outside their rooms, they all had a restless night.

The time came for the ceremony, which they held in the other birthing room. With discrete security arrangements, they readied themselves for a second attempt.

Izzot pulled Brell to one side as they congregated in the lobby. "Before we start, I would like to say that Lottie is welcome to attend. Without its, err, her prompt actions to force that old worker bot to use his pass to enter the midwife's room, I don't want to think what may have happened."

"Thanks, Izzot. Your quick thinking saved junior."

"I was a nurse a few years back, and with Wanda's help, we temporarily swapped over the connections from another trolley. A midwife arrived, thankfully and all was well."

"Ramon gave a good account of himself; we could not have defeated Smiler without his help. You should be proud of him."

"I'm proud of both my sons," she said. "Welcome to our family, Brell."

Once they were assembled round the crib, the priest started the ceremony. He waved his hand and the sounds of religious chants and stringed instruments sounded in the background.

"We are here to celebrate a new life entering this world. I now ask the midwife to begin the awakening process. Please join hands."

At first, the baby appeared to be asleep. By small degrees, he became aware of a change in his surroundings. A leg twitched, followed by his lip pursing then there was a sudden jerking movement. He screwed his face up and screamed.

The midwife bent over and affixed two cauterising clamps around the umbilical cord. She turned to Brell and smiled.

She stepped forward and took the scissors offered by the midwife.

"And as we cut the cord, the baby becomes a single being."

Brell gently snipped the "flesh-like" umbilical cord.

With the baby still crying, he was wiped down, taken out of his crib, and wrapped in a small blanket; the same one Gorst was placed in when he was born.

Tentative at first, Brell held him with a steady grasp. She stared at his face, kissed his head, and rocked him. Stopping crying, he opened his eyes a fraction, looked at her, and closed them again.

"I anoint you with your given name; Turron Gorst Ritsma." The priest traced a line down the baby's forehead with his thumb whilst saying a silent prayer. "With this anointing and blessing from our beloved church, we welcome you to the world. May you be strong, fair, and righteous."

Once the priest finished the ceremony, the midwife took the baby and performed a few medical checks and procedures. With the family crowded around, Brell dressed the baby in a white outfit, which Wanda joked looked like one of Brell's pilot jumpsuits.

A member of staff, who had been hovering in the background, appeared, and started taking flat and 3D images. Lottie respectfully stayed out of most of the pictures, until invited in by Brell with a nod from Izzot.

As she held the baby, Lottie said, "He's got your forehead, eyes, and nose and Captain Gorst's jawline."

"What about his personality?" Wanda said.

"I think we'll leave that until he is a bit older," Brell said, glancing at Izzot's expression.

Soon, there was a lull in talking.

"Ready?" Izzot said, touching Brell's shoulder.

"I'm ready," she said.

Kissing the baby, she handed him to Margot.

"Thank you," Ramon said, placing an arm around Margot's shoulder. "Please come and visit us soon."

They placed Turron in the pram and tucked him in.

With Wanda on one side and Scrivvens the other, Brell watched the family leave the room.

She remembered little about the rest of the evening. Sitting on the hotel room balcony, she sipped warm drinks and chain smoked. Watching spacecraft take off in the night sky, she thought of Turron leaving the planet soon in the early hours of the morning, with his new family.

"Wanda has gone with Scrivvens to visit security control, to check on the investigation. I think they wanted to give you some space."

"Lottie. Tell me straight, don't hold back. Did I do the right thing?" she said when Lottie returned with a fresh bean brew.

"You could have cared for Turron yourself. After a week, you would be researching cargo pilot jobs. Having hired a nanny, you will say, 'I will be back in a few days.' The months will pass. You will take extended trips and one day you realise the boy thinks his nanny is his mother. It causes stress and you start drinking again. Shall I continue?"

"Keep going."

"Alternatively, he is brought up in a loving family, his father's family, where he enjoys his mother's visits. When older, he sits on his mum's knee inside her freighter and asks about the controls. He will appreciate his family upbringing, within the mould of his father, whom, sadly, he never knew. He looks at his mother with admiration, respect, and an understanding that she is a complicated but no less loving individual. He looks forward to working with her or alternatively meeting her when given leave from Space or Police Corps. He is proud to call her his mother."

Brell could only wipe her eyes at Lottie's to-the-point but truthful overview. "You've been watching your drama shows again."

"Most storylines are based on true stories."

"I would be a shit mother, Lottie, without Gorst around. I would be as bad as my own mother. I've thought about it for a long time and panicked over it, as you know. But, I see Spinney, and if Turron turns out like her, then I want to be a mother again. Makes no sense."

"Anyway, who is going to look after me?" Lottie said.

"With your taste in clothes and underwear, you're becoming very expensive to keep."

"Well then perhaps, when you are ready, it's time to go back to work. I need a new outfit."

"Yes, professor," Brell said. She took a long drag on her smoke tube. "You know Lottie, I'd like to do something for Scrivvens. He's always been there for me."

"I have an idea. Myself and Delta often talked about you and Scrivvens."

"Did you now."

Lottie activated a small screen from her arm and showed it to Brell. "What do you think?"

Brell smiled. "Perfect."

***

The following day, Brell announced that she wanted to take everyone for a meal and to dress up, as it was an upmarket establishment. Lottie wore the dress she meant to wear at the family meal.

After finishing their coffee and mints, Brell tapped Lottie's arm. She promptly got up and left the table. Scrivvens watched her leave.

"Everything okay?" he said.

"Yes, she's checking on security."

Wanda nudged Brell.

Lottie waved from the other side of the restaurant.

"Scrivvens, I have a little surprise for you, something to show my gratitude for all you have done."

His face flushed. "Oh, you shouldn't have gone to any trouble," he said, "But I do like a chocolate celebration cake."

"It's better than that," Brell said, standing up. She walked around to Scrivvens and held his hand. "It would honour me very much if you would become my surrogate brother."

He smiled widely. "I was worried for a minute, what you were going to say."

Brell stared at him. "So?"

"It would be my pleasure. I've always wanted a sister."

"And me, a brother. Let's get to it, then," she said.

"What? Now?"

"Yes, it's all arranged."

They walked through the restaurant to a side room.

On entering, they saw a smartly dressed man.

"Please, join me," the man said. "I am your officiant for this ceremony. Will the couple please stand together in front of me?"

Brell pulled Scrivvens next to her.

"We are gathered here to join these two people as brother and sister."

The male paused.

Brell sensed Scrivvens relax. He sent her a brief smile.

"Okay?" she said.

"Whose idea was it?" He nodded towards Lottie and Wanda.

"Lottie's."

"Delta's, originally," Lottie said.

The male fished out a metre length of silver chain from his briefcase. "Please bring your hands up in front of you and open your palms," he said.

He placed the chain over their hands, the ends dangling down each side.

"This symbolises the unique bond between a brother and sister. A chain, a link, a connection which cannot be broken."

"I now invite each person to make their vow to each other." The male activated a holo-screen with the ceremonial words displayed.

"It is my wish that Scrivvens becomes my surrogate brother. I will defend his honour and be his confidante. I will keep his secrets and show him unconditional love, whatever his faults." She turned to him and continued. "Please accept me as your surrogate sister."

"I accept," Scrivvens said.

Scrivvens read out the same paragraph, finishing with, "Please accept me as your surrogate brother."

"I accept," Brell said.

To applause from Wanda and Lottie, the officiant retrieved the chain, "You may lower your hands."

"That concludes the ceremony, all that remains is the certification."

He produced a square box, in which lay a holo certificate, and placed it on a table. "Thumbprints please."

They each rolled their thumb onto a plate inside the box. Within moments, three copies fed themselves out from a slot.

"The original copy is sent to the local judiciary for filing. Thank you, good evening."

The officiant packed his equipment into a briefcase, nodded, and left the room.

After a group hug, Brell said, "Lottie has something to show you."

She activated a screen. An image appeared of a female bot wearing a nurse's uniform, walking along a corridor; her face and figure more than a resemblance to Delta.

"It's the nursing assistant that Katey has just hired for her mother. It was from an agency specialising in third-hand ex-service bots. She sent me the message today."

Scrivvens's face lit up.

"Does this mean that if you can re-activate another Delta, she and I would be surrogate, surrogate sisters-in-law?"

"No," Brell said.

***

Before he left the planet to return to work, Scrivvens filled Brell in on Smiler's movements. Lottie had been tasked with simultaneously monitoring moving images from the Zero-G festival and spaceports.

"He was at the festival; you can see him and Mabel leaving. He used his injuries and identity blockers to evade scrutiny."

"I thought I had seen that bastard," Brell said, nodding to Wanda.

"Being with a woman would have helped," Scrivvens said. "She originates from Kaznac, though their records are unreliable if non-existent. We think she may have come from the area around where we raided the farm. Forensics show she was carrying a timed grenade."

"He is definitely out of our lives now."

Scrivvens held her hand. "Well, sister, it's time for me to move on. I'll pop in and see Katey again, what do you think?"

"Absolutely. And," she said looking back into the hotel room, "it's worth it just to keep Lottie quiet. Since she saw Katey's message, all she can talk about is new Delta this and new Delta that."

"If all goes well, I'll settle back on Elytia."

"Same for me and Lottie; we'll get more cargo jobs from there. I've spoken to Brune and Xadian over the past couple of days, it'll be good to see them in person."

Staying for a further five days, Brell passed the time deep in thought, in tears, or being positive about the future. Wanda and Lottie kept her buoyant with trips to the malls, gym, and other sights on Symphony. The hotel recommended a bot specialist for Lottie, so her back could be examined and repaired properly.

One morning a hotel representative arrived at their room, offering a full apology for their lapses in security. In return for an endorsement from Brell, they promised to provide a hotel room, free of charge, for the next sixteen years, until Turron became a man. For which, they added, a coming of age party could be arranged.

Later that day, Lottie announced some news. "Not only have the hotel agreed to pay for my repairs but Cedric has asked me out on a date."

"Really?"

"We are going for a walk along robot alley and then he wants to show me his tools in his maintenance cubicle."

"Maintenance cubicle on a first date? I hope you take adequate precautions."

"He is an honourable robot."

"They all say that, Lottie, just wait until he drops a spanner on the floor and asks you to pick it up. Boom. Mind you, it will take him a while."

Lottie placed her hands onto her backside uncertainly, to laughter from Brell and Wanda.

Eventually, it was time to book out of the hotel and return to Elytia. With little conversation, they took a hotel bus to the spaceport and caught their cruiser.

Unlike the other passengers, Brell did not watch the sight of Symphony disappearing in the viewing screen window. Instead, she flicked through the latest images of Turron.

### Chapter 48

Six weeks later, Brell sat in the pilot's seat of her new cargo freighter, checking over the systems prior to take off. Bought second hand from an advert which Lottie had spotted, it was smaller than the _Lulu_ but served Brell's purpose perfectly. Its hold was the right size to perform profitable cargo trips for individuals wanting a more personal touch.

Already, she had completed two journeys moving a family's possessions from one planet to another. Her semi-celebrity status helped, as well as Lottie's organisational skills. She sorted out all the personal arrangements, leaving Brell to concentrate on piloting.

After their second trip, they visited Gorst's home planet to see Turron. Feeling awkward at first, Ramon and Margot made her very welcome. Spending time on her own with her son had been precious. Izzot arranged for a family party in Brell's honour and allowed Lottie inside their house, despite a minor standoff with the local priest.

Though the pang of guilt at the decision to hand Turron over to Gorst's family remained, she left in high spirits. She knew he was safe and in good hands. Gorst would have approved.

Lottie was wearing her First Officer Kitty clothes. A light green pilot's jumpsuit, with badges above her chest and on the arms. Her white hat had a gold crest above the peak.

"All loads are in. The hold is secure," she said, examining the cargo screens. She turned to her new comms cube, which Brell had bought her. "Ooh, another message from Delta."

Brell rolled her eyes. "What, since a minute ago?"

"Well, coming back to life in a different body with Scrivvens' memory tubes inserted, what do you expect? She has a lot to catch up on."

"Any news?"

"She's just trying on various outfits."

"Oh, nice."

Lottie's cube binged.

"She's sent me another image. Oh, I never."

"What's that?"

"She's asking for my opinion of her new body. It's was a pleasure bot with the same face and body, but a younger version."

Lottie started laughing.

Brell pressed another button on the console and read the system details.

"She says that her tits are perkier and wants my personal opinion when we next meet."

Brell put her fingers in her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want to know."

Lottie held her cube and turned the screen sideways. "They certainly appear perkier. What do you think?"

"I'm okay, thanks," Brell said, holding up a hand in front of her face. "Anyway, I received a message from Lexi earlier. She wants help with something embarrassing and personal. It involves discreet enquiries, and she'll pay our expenses."

"What's Lexi been up to?"

"She wouldn't say. After this load, we'll head to Elytia, speak to her, and meet up with my brother and the new Delta. How's that?"

"Perfect, boss."

"Right, we're ready for take off."

"You know what that means?"

"Yes, it's time for a quote from _Plundering Pirates_. But I can't bring myself to say the words."

Lottie extended her arm and pointed a finger at the windshield. "It's time to pump the sump."

End

### Table of contents

Copyright

Part One

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Part Two

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48

Table of contents

Dedication

The Author

### Dedication

To present and future grandchildren.

### The Author

**About the author**

Stuart's career in law enforcement involved fights, drama, boredom, and working an unhealthy number of shifts.

The years passed, the family grew up and eventually he published his first novel in 2015. Many of his ideas are inspired by work experiences and travelling around Europe, S.E. Asia, and the USA.

Born in North London, England, Stuart enjoys family life, cinema, and swimming.

Also by Stuart F. Dodds

Deep Yellow – (A Brell Sturlach Adventure) - published 2015.

The Fight for Locardum – (A Brell Sturlach Adventure) - published 2018.

Billie – a modern action thriller - published 2019.

Further information and contact

Website: www.stuartfdodds.com

