Release date: April 2, 2018
Subgenre: Humorous science fiction, Science fiction mystery
About Harriet Walsh: Peace Force:
Harriet Walsh is desperate for work, but when an intergalactic
crime-fighting organisation offers her a job she's convinced it's a
mistake. She dislikes puzzles, has never read a detective mystery, and
hates wearing uniforms. So why did the Peace Force pick her?
Who cares? Harriet needs the money, and she's happy to go along with the training for as long as they keep paying her. She'd better dig out some of those detective mysteries though, because she's about to embark on her first real mission...
Excerpt:
The cab drew up at Dismolle's one and only Peace Force station, and
Harriet craned her neck to get a better view as she stepped out. Most
buildings on the planet were low and airy, with big windows and good
lighting. Whoever built this place hadn't got the memo, because it was a
multi-story chunk of concrete that blended with the streetscape like an
active volcano. With its slitted windows, thick iron bars and concrete
blocks protecting the entrance it looked solid and impregnable, like
some kind of war ministry bunker.
It also looked old, and she wondered whether it had always been a Force office ... or whether it had once been a weapons silo. Not that the good folk of Dismolle did wars, of course. They barely did heated arguments.
Harriet shrugged and headed for the door. On the way she pulled out the letter, which was crumpled and slightly damp from wiping the kitchen table down. Waste not, want not ...
The door was a double glass affair with dark tint. A huge Peace Force badge was etched into the surface, the gold foil peeling and grimy. As Harriet approached the doors, they swept open ... but only about three inches. Then, with a nasty grinding noise, they jammed. Frowning, she tried pulling them apart, but withdrew her hands when she realised the doors might close on them. What a terrific first impression that would make, if she had to be rescued from the front doors before she even got to the interview.
Since she couldn't get in, she put her mouth to the gap. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
There was a delay, and then she felt the ground shake underfoot. It was like someone had pounded on the paving with a big, heavy mallet, and as she stood there, head on one side, she felt the floor shake again ... and again. The thuds were getting stronger, and Harriet looked up at the building's facade anxiously. If it was maintained as well as the front doors, lumps of concrete might come tumbling down on her head.
Instead, the thudding stopped and a pair of hands appeared between the doors. Harriet noticed they weren't human, and she didn't need her modest deductive skills to work that out. First, they were twice as big as the biggest hands she'd ever seen. And second, they were fashioned from dark blue metal.
It also looked old, and she wondered whether it had always been a Force office ... or whether it had once been a weapons silo. Not that the good folk of Dismolle did wars, of course. They barely did heated arguments.
Harriet shrugged and headed for the door. On the way she pulled out the letter, which was crumpled and slightly damp from wiping the kitchen table down. Waste not, want not ...
The door was a double glass affair with dark tint. A huge Peace Force badge was etched into the surface, the gold foil peeling and grimy. As Harriet approached the doors, they swept open ... but only about three inches. Then, with a nasty grinding noise, they jammed. Frowning, she tried pulling them apart, but withdrew her hands when she realised the doors might close on them. What a terrific first impression that would make, if she had to be rescued from the front doors before she even got to the interview.
Since she couldn't get in, she put her mouth to the gap. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
There was a delay, and then she felt the ground shake underfoot. It was like someone had pounded on the paving with a big, heavy mallet, and as she stood there, head on one side, she felt the floor shake again ... and again. The thuds were getting stronger, and Harriet looked up at the building's facade anxiously. If it was maintained as well as the front doors, lumps of concrete might come tumbling down on her head.
Instead, the thudding stopped and a pair of hands appeared between the doors. Harriet noticed they weren't human, and she didn't need her modest deductive skills to work that out. First, they were twice as big as the biggest hands she'd ever seen. And second, they were fashioned from dark blue metal.
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About Simon Haynes:
Simon Haynes is the author of the Hal Spacejock series, the Hal Junior
series, and the upcoming Harriet Walsh series, as well as several dozen
short stories. He is also the programmer and designer behind Spacejock
Software, and is responsible for popular programs like yWriter and
yBook.
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