Chapter 35
John Doe
John Doe he had snuck his way into the sector. Only him though. He hadn’t wanted to risk any more forces, especially if that had meant relying on people with less-sophisticated armor.
Parka had agreed. So John had gone in alone. When he’d seen that woman, finally getting close enough to pick out her form and heat signature through the wall, he’d practically stopped dead in his tracks.
It was her. She was bloody alive.
He’d taken up position right next to a shop wall, as close to her as he could get without being directly visible.
Increasing the power running to his armor’s scanners, he’d been able to pick up every single sound and movement she had made.
He’d heard her speaking to something, though his armor could not tell exactly what it was. That had not been the interesting part though. Their plans to escape however, had been fascinating.
Just who was this woman that she had 1500 methods of avoiding detection from the Galactic Transport Network? Just who was she that the thought of heading to the Pharos system was a welcome one?
As John had sat there, pinned up against the wall, listening to everything he could, he had waited.
When she had suddenly drawn into silence, and he could see through the wall that her heat signature had surged, he pushed himself up.
It was time, wasn’t it?
His gun was already in his hand, his grip strong and tight. Fortunately his armor regulated the pressure of his fingers around the butt and trigger, otherwise he would have crushed the entire thing in a second.
Making a snapped call to the Pegasus and telling them that the plan was in operation, John walked out of the shop, around the corner, and he faced her.
She was standing in the center, her arms stiff by her sides, her legs wide, her head angled down as that hood covered her eyes.
She had obviously been expecting him.
He opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. Stop, this is the Union Forces? Or I’m here to help? Whatever thoughts came into his head seemed hollow and empty. Plus, the sight of her standing there in that hood, her body so tense and stiff, stilled his mind.
And then he noticed it: the small metal orb buzzing around her side.
He’d seen one of those before. It was Old Tech. It had many moving parts, somewhat like the soldier robot on Orion Minor, and a persistent blue glow ran in a circle around its middle.
She took a single step backwards.
He raised his hand, though he didn’t let his guard drop. ‘No one is going to hurt you,’ he managed.
It was a lie; John could not promise that. He had no idea what they were going to do to this woman. All he knew was what he wanted to do. Pull back the veil and understand what her secret was.
But he had to say something. And telling her to give up and surrender seemed like a hopeless command.
Especially considering what she could do.
As he neared, one hand still held up in peace while the other was paradoxically clasped on his gun, his eyes grew wide underneath his helmet.
And his breathing stopped too, his heart rate dropping as his body seemed to freeze in place.
‘Commander John Doe,’ she said, her voice picking up with a flicker of recognition.
‘I know what happened to you on Orion Minor. I know you survived that transport beam. I know you got aboard my vessel,’ he managed.
She took a shuddering step backwards ‘That was your vessel?’ she began, the then she muffled her own words by bringing a hand up and clasping it over her mouth.
It seemed like a genuine move. In fact, everything this woman did seemed real. She did not seem to be capable of faking anything, or, perhaps more to the point, she didn’t seem to want to waste her energy trying.
And John knew exactly what it was like to be in a position like that. There was only one thing this woman could prioritize and allocate her energy towards. Survival. Nothing else.
‘Just come in quietly,’ he begged. In a way, it was a ridiculous thing to do; he could see from her body language and he knew from her previous exploits that there was no way this woman was going to come in quietly. She would throw herself off a building, fight an impediment field, and basically do whatever she could to keep her anonymity and freedom.
Still, it was all John could do to stop himself from raising his gun and telling her to stop in the name of the Union Forces.
‘You don’t know what you’re doing and you have no idea what I am,’ she said, her voice hesitant and low. And once again, as soon as her words were finished, she seemed to suck back in on them, planting that hand harder over her mouth.
‘Let me know, tell me, what are you? What are you running from? I can help you,’ John tried.
She shook her head bitterly, her hair pushing out from underneath her hood, but the hood itself never moving from over her eyes.
Now Evelyn had confirmed his suspicions, John was absolutely certain he was looking at Old Technology. The way it sat, the fact it could withstand his own armored grip, there was really only one sane conclusion.
But where had she got it from? And how was it still running?
‘Please,’ he tried again.
She shook her head one final time.
Then she nodded towards the orb by her side.
It paid exact attention to her move. Then it darted forward, shooting towards the promenade and the weather field beyond.
As it moved, so did the woman. She pushed herself into a frantic sprint, ducking to her knees for a second, then springing forward in a perfect somersault and flipping straight through one of the windows of the shops and landing on the promenade beyond.
The move was so quick and snapped that John had trouble keeping up with it. His armor, however, did not, and it pushed him forward, his own limbs moving at incredible speed as he practically copied her maneuver. As he landed on the hard floor of the promenade, it was to the view of the woman rushing forward towards the railing.
It was like a repeat of Orion Minor all over again. There was a flickering moment, and then the weather field shut down.
John watched with absolutely wide open and shocked eyes as he saw the dim electronic flicker of the field surge and then disappear altogether.
Then he felt it, or more accurately his armor suddenly warned him of the instant change in pressure and wind.
His boots locked onto the promenade of their own accord, generating a powerful magnetic field that ensured he could not be ripped from his feet by the horrendous gale. His armor also blocked out the sound of it moving past his earpieces, making the change in temperature and pressure negligible too.
Then he watched in horror as she planted her hands onto the railing and leapt over it.
Her move was so fast, and she did not hesitate. It was such an incredible sight to behold.
‘She is doing it again,’ John suddenly heard Parka guffaw over his earpiece. ‘This woman is incorrigible.’
That was one word for it.
John ran forward.
‘I really don’t think so,’ Parka snapped at him. ‘You jump over that, John, and there’s nothing but air and water and clouds. And we really don’t want to fish you out of the ocean.’
In the time it took Parka to snap that in his ear, John had drawn to a halt, his hands smashing into the railings to stop the momentum of his body.
The woman had already disappeared from sight.
For a moment his heart leapt into his mouth, and the same incredible concern that had all but killed him at the sight of her jumping off the promenade on Block Alpha filled him again.
But he needn’t have worried.
In a second she darted into view again. She had one hand clasped over the orb, and it was flying her up, against the incredible force of the wind, towards a different section of the docking ring.
John watched in astonishment. His armor ensured that his view of the woman always zoomed in, no matter how far a
way she got. He focused on the hood, on the lips, on the wide open mouth and the obvious expression of fright.
Then she ducked out of sight as the orb zipped around the corner of the docking ring and out of view.
John still had his hands planted around the railing, his fingers digging deeper into it. It buckled and bent under his grip, and if he’d tightened his fists any further he would probably have made it melt from the friction.
‘We saw it all, Commander,’ Parka said in a snap, ‘we’ve already redirected the security forces. And don’t worry, I’ve still got a lock on her position; we’ll know exactly where she lands.’
Eventually he took a step back, but he practically had to pry his fingers off that railing.
His breath was heavy, even though he had hardly moved. He hadn’t fought anyone, he hadn’t run that far, and while he had done a deft somersault, in this armor he could do so much more.
He was not out of breath because of physical exercise.
It was the frustration. The fact he kept on getting so close only to have circumstances carry her away again.
Even though John wanted nothing more than to take his frustration out by stamping one of his heavy, fully-armored boots into the floor of the promenade and cracking the metal plating easily, he controlled himself. Instead he walked, back and arms stiff, fists clenched tightly at his sides. His walk quickened into a run, then a sprint, then the fastest pace his armor could provide.
John was not going to give up.