Chapter 12
John Doe
He hadn't been expecting that blow. He'd been expecting her to fight, yes; anyone desperate enough to throw themselves off the side of a building into a frozen salt blizzard would not come quietly when the authorities arrived.
But that strike had been something else. It had been so fast and strong that the plating along his armor had been unable to adapt to it in time, and he'd been thrown clear off his feet.
John didn't like to make the same mistake twice though, and he always tried to learn from his surprises. Redirecting all the armor’s energy into strengthening it, he'd jumped right back up, finally catching the woman in his grip.
But she fought, boy did she fight. No matter how hard he tried to assure her, she just thrashed harder. In fact she'd thrashed all the way onto the transport. It had taken John and several of the security bots to finally get her on board, and he'd had to physically restrain her before a proper impediment field could be produced. Even then the field had only slowed her movements by half.
‘Computer,’ John said through a gruff cough, the effort of getting her on board already taking its toll on his body, ‘break apart half my armor, use it to reinforce that field to ensure containment.’
‘Not recommended. Cannibalizing your armor will reduce its ability to withstand outside conditions—’ the computer began, its electronic voice sounding out form one of the numerous panels in the hanger bay he and the rest of the robots were in.
‘Just do it,’ he growled.
The computer did not interrupt again. Instead John could feel as the armor that kept him strong and alive was slowly eaten away.
He didn't bother to sit though; he stood exactly where he was, ignoring whatever cold managed to penetrate the thick hull. While this transport was sturdy, it was designed only for planet use, and did not have the sealed atmosphere of a proper space vessel.
But right now John didn't care that a frozen, numb feeling started to climb up his feet and into his bones, he just crossed his arms and stared at her.
As the computer finally finished the process of ripping apart half of his own armor to strengthen the field holding the woman in place, she stopped thrashing.
She ground to a complete halt. Her arms stiffening and locked by her side. Her head was down, the line of her hood now hiding everything but her lower lip.
But not for long.
John walked right into the field.
While the impediment field would stop the woman from moving or escaping, it would have no such effect on John. It was calibrated to his armor and bio signs to ensure he could pass through and walk around inside unaffected.
She raised her head, but only slightly. It would give her an unrivalled view of his boots and maybe his shins too, but nothing else.
‘Who are you?’ he got straight to the point. She didn't look like she was the type to like time wasters.
The hood was still low enough so that all he could see was her bottom lip. It shifted down in a twitch, but that was it.
Sighing John shook his head. Why did some people have to be so difficult? Okay, John wasn't so innocent that he didn't know the answer to that; he'd been exactly like the woman in front of him once upon a time. Not exactly the same - unassisted by implants or armor, you wouldn't have seen John jumping off the side of a building. But he was from the slums. He knew the costs of surviving.
‘Come on, I'm not going to hurt you. Tell me why you ran, we'll take you back for a scan and file check, and you'll be free. No need to make this hard,’ John tried, lowering his tone, making it a little softer.
She didn't react.
Which left him no choice.
John walked right up to her. ‘I'm going to remove your hood,’ he warned her, breath stuck in his chest for some reason.
He wanted to know what she looked like, what race she was. But most of all he wanted to look right into her eyes. For no specific reason - it wasn't as if looking into the doorways of the soul would further his investigation.
But he wanted to. And that particular flicker of energy up his spine as he reached his hands towards the hood only solidified his will.
He latched his fingers over it, not too quickly; he didn't want to surprise her. Though he brushed past her cheeks and he could feel her eyelashes darting against the external membrane of his armor, she didn't move back.
She just stiffened even more.
John pulled the hood back. Or at least he tried to.
He couldn't move it. Gritting his teeth, his eyebrows descending over his eyes, John tried harder. His boots locked further onto the hull, the magnetic field they generated syncing with the metal and anchoring him down.
He pulled as hard as he could.
He couldn't shift the thing. The woman turned her head to the side, her left cheek pressing into his right hand.
John tried again and again, but he couldn’t move the thing a centimeter, let alone get it off.
Sucking in a delayed breath, he finally let go and took a sharp step back. ‘What the hell?’ he swore.
She hadn't shifted much; she was still sitting in exactly the same position with her arms held stiffly by her sides. She was smiling though, if you could call it that. Though her skin was still pale, her bottom limp had bunched up, pushing into the slice of cheek that was still visible.
‘What's going on here, how are you doing that?’ John snapped.
She didn't answer.
In fact, she hadn’t said a word to him since she'd demanded he put her down when he'd saved her from that alien in the slums.
John took another step back. His eyes were wide under the faceless helmet of his armor. If he wanted to, he could turn it to transparent, making the plating disappear as a powerful force field took its place.
‘Perhaps human is not up to the task,’ one of the security bots droned form behind him in its toneless voice.
John turned sharply over his shoulder. John was up to the task; even considering his armor had been cannibalized to bolster the impediment field, he still had the strength to yank a freaking hood back. He wasn't a geriatric here. He worked out every single day.
Not bothering to answer the robot and knowing that it wouldn't try anything unless John gave it a specific order, he took a step back towards the woman.
She shifted her head forward, facing him, but the hood still hid most of her face. Her bottom lip had lost the kick, and had descended into a thin line.
He decided then and there - despite the situation - that frowning didn't suit this woman. But it was a useless and faintly sentimental conclusion, one that would not help him find out who she was.
‘Transport Beta to arrive at Central Security Station in one minute,’ the computer suddenly informed him.
The transport had not bothered taking them to the nearest block; not considering how much trouble she'd caused. They were headed to Block Prime. About the only building on Orion Minor that did not have a slum attached to it. Block Prime was where the ruling elite lived. It housed not only the best and brightest, but the key planet-wide systems. It also held the central operations for the security forces.
The transport gave a shake as a blast of wind ripped into it, but fortunately John already had a magnetic lock on the floor below him, and couldn't be thrown from his feet. Instead he watched in pure fascination, his eyebrows inching down, as the woman was jostled to the side, her hands grabbing hold of the bench she'd been seated on. Though the impediment field had all but locked her in place, she could still make movements, and she still had to correct herself as the transport gave a shake.
Though her hair spilled from underneath her hood and the tatters of her tunic shifted around her shoulders, her hood did not move. Not a freaking centimeter.
Once the turbulence stopped, John shifted forward. He did not latch hold of the hood and try to tug it off her head again; he dropped to his knees. Planting a hand on the ground, leaning close to one of her legs, he tried to look up.
> She ducked her head down straight away, bringing a hand over the hood and locking it over her eyes.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, John stood. He half turned to see that the view from the single window in the hanger bay showed the transport rapidly approaching Block Prime. It would be seconds before they touched down. The hatch of the security level was already opening in preparation to receive them.
‘Suit yourself, but the hood will come off,’ John turned back to her.
She didn't move. No, that was wrong. She shook. However slightly, he could pick it up with what was left of his armor.
It softened him. The prospect of an immovable hood and a backhand that could send a fully-armored man flying through the air had served to heighten John's suspicions of this woman. But that shake had reminded him that he had no idea who she was and what she was hiding form.
Ghost of Mind Episode One Page 12