Ghost of Mind Episode One
Page 15
Chapter 15
Alice
They'd finally left, the officer and the Chief of Security. But he had staid.
Now John Doe, with his arms still crossed, leant as close to the opposite side of the security field as he could get without his armor frying.
His head was on that blasted angle again. The one that told her John was staring forth with unbridled interest, with unquenchable curiosity. Right at her.
Except this time she could see his eyes. He'd taken his helmet off to talk to the Chief, and hadn't bothered to put it back on, setting it to transparent force field instead.
As she paced, her limbs threatening to lock up from the tension of being trapped in the cell, she tried not to stare at him.
He had the kind of gaze that could melt anyone.
‘I suppose you are still not in a talkative mood,’ he suddenly noted, voice sounding clear through the field, despite how furiously it crackled.
She paused, but only for a second. Then she went right back to pacing, her footfall fervent and quick, her shoes squeaking over the well-worn floor of the cell.
‘You know, you could tell me what's going on. We're going to find out anyway,’ he said through a sigh.
She looked at him sharply.
She could see through her hood. While to everyone else it was low slung over her eyes and hid everything but her lips and chin, to her it did not obscure the world at all. It was the handy work of the same race responsible for building the Great Universal Transport System after all. A semi visible cape was about the least impressive thing the Old Ones had ever done, in the scheme of things.
‘You don't play along, and it won't get easy from here. It'll get harder. No more running away; there's no building to drop yourself off. You're surrounded by reinforced smart metal walls,’ he banged his fist on the wall beside him, the sound of it loud and hard, ‘and more security force fields than you've got on the rest of the planet. So start playing along; it'll be better for you in the long run,’ he added in a lower voice.
It made her turn to him. She really didn't want to; she wanted to get as far away from this man as she could. She did not want to spend time staring at him and considering his advice carefully. He was freaking John Doe, after all.
But it was the particular flicker of emotion that had laced his words that had done it. It had made her belly twitch, sent a sharp snap of cold over her back.
‘I don't know why you ran, and I don't know who else apart from me you've been running from, but you're safe now. You tell us your story, and I'll guarantee you they won't hang you up to dry. If you've gotten away from one of the Factions, from the pirates, from some mercenary unit, tell me,’ his voice rang louder, somehow managed to shift through her feet and shake right into her.
Clutching a hand over her arm, her fingers pressing right through the tangled and ripped fabric, she still couldn't turn from him.
‘If you promise to testify, I'll ensure they look after you. You'll be offered the same security protection as all other informants. It doesn't matter if you're from the higher levels or the slums,’ his voice croaked for a moment, ‘I'll make sure they treat you like a Union citizen deserves.’
She rubbed at her arm distractedly, her skin starting to finally warm up. But no matter how soft it now felt to her touch, her fear had not magically dried up.
He'd just distracted her from it for a precious second.
Was he serious? He certainly sounded like it. That particular gaze he fixed her with didn't waiver either.
‘Come on, just give me something. You can trust me.’ He shifted his head sharply for a second, looking uncomfortable as he swallowed. ‘I don't know if you can trust them,’ he admitted as he brought a hand up, pushing the fingers easily through the force field of his helmet as he scratched his eyebrow and sighed again. The move was heavy. Everything about him in that moment seemed heavy.
Alice had been in the slums long enough to know the cost of compassion. Whether it was your food ration for the week, your quarters, or your life; it was more expensive to do something kind for a stranger in the lower levels than up above.
It could cost you survival.
And at that moment as Alice stared back at John, she fancied she saw understanding flickering through his gaze. He knew the equation.
But he didn't seem to care. And while it was expensive for Alice to be compassionate, it would also cost someone like John Doe to stick his neck out for a slum woman.
She blinked slowly, her eyes flicking over his form.
She was thankful he could not see her gaze, because right now she looked the man over entirely.
He was a solid, tall build for a human, though not so muscular that his form looked out of proportion. He had a stiff, hard-lined jaw that was lightly dusted with a ray of stubble. He had dark brown eyes and the nick of a healed scar cut through his left eyebrow. He had another longer scar running across his scalp, clearly visible under his short-cropped dark hair.
Why the man had scars she could not guess; the Union had enough technology to make something like that disappear without a hint it had once been.
And yet they remained. Did he fancy himself tough? Were they there as signs that the enigmatic John Doe knew how to negotiate with his fists just as much as he did with his voice? Or were they a reminder of something else? A fact John did not want expunged by the erasing of the scars for life.
She was thinking too much about him, paying too close attention to his body and face, and she shook her head sharply to dislodge the thoughts.
‘Come on, please,’ he said. He was still looking right at her, gaze never wavering.
‘I can't,’ she answered.
She actually answered him. She didn't need to; it wasn't like he could force the words out of her throat. And Alice knew she could not afford to let anything slip.
Yet he'd cajoled the words right out of her.
Straightening up, probably bolstered by the fact she'd finally spoken, John got a little closer to the security field. Light feedback rippled over the force field of his own helmet, but it didn't seem to bother him. ‘You'll be safe,’ he repeated.
No she wouldn't. And that was the irony. John Doe obviously believed what he was staying. But he did not understand. And if he could truly comprehend just what and who stood in front of him, he would not be making such generous offers. He'd be dragging her off to his Union masters as the greatest prize in the universe.
Backing off, her thoughts making her fingers cold and stiff, she half turned from him.
‘I don't go back on my word,’ he suddenly added. In that moment his voice had taken on a different quality. Harder.
‘No, you don't understand,’ she said.
God. She'd done it again. She did not need to speak to this man. For her own sake, for the sake of the rest of the freaking universe, she should be keeping her lips sealed.
‘Then let me in on the secret. I won't go back on my word,’ he reassured her again, his voice bottoming out into a low brogue.
Oh, if only that were the case. Alice would give anything for someone to trust. But she'd travelled through the universe and all she'd found was hate and suspicion.
So no, she could not trust John, no matter how much the flicker of emotion in her heart wanted her to give it a go.