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Authors: Stephen Moss
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his arm up, propelling his fist toward Neal’s throat with all his machine might.
He felt even more confident when the woman at Neal’s side did not even react, even as Neal himself began to rear back at the sight of the balled black fist coming at him.
He felt confident right up until the point where his arm froze, and his body suddenly wrenched backward as though propelled by a great wind.
But there was no wind. No response still from the big woman, who just looked on even as Neal began to turn to her, confusion and alarm filling his features as he went to speak.
“Do not be alarmed, Neal,” said Minnie, “the threat is past.”
“Threat!” he said. Then, realizing he was shouting, he said more quietly, “What the hell just happened?”
“The man intended you harm. I stopped him.”
Neal and Jim looked around. Barring their group of three, there were only the two guards in earshot, though there were others farther down the corridor, many of whom were glancing their way.
But it was the two guards Neal was worried about. One had clearly meant to strike him, and with no small amount of malice. Then he had seemed to pull back, though the man seemed as surprised as Neal when he did.
“The suits, Neal,” said Minnie. “They are second-generation battleskins, gifted to the Korean government, among others, in exchange for security concessions. But while they are pre-spinal interface, Madeline did install subspace comms in them, just in case. It was a precaution Ayala had requested, as it would allow me to take control over them … should I need to.”
Neal stared at her, then at Jim, then back at the soldiers, who were now both standing once more, though their faces were an incongruous mesh of discomfort juxtaposed against the enforced stillness of their bodies.
“The man on the left, your assailant, is close to unconsciousness, as I am constricting his lungs and throat. The man on the right appears innocent to the plot, but I am afraid his presence for its aborted execution means we will have to take him into custody as well.”
Neal walked up to them, at first hesitantly, then with a little more confidence as he saw how they were wheezing, unable to breath properly, let alone speak. He felt no remorse for the man who had tried to attack him, but the other man … it was disquieting to see how he struggled.
“Can you hear me?” Neal said to the distraught man, clearly fighting the profoundly unpleasant sensation of suffocation. “Minnie, stop this. He has done nothing.”
She did, and in a flash the man was drawing deep, hoarse breaths as though breeching the surface of a river-rapid that had subsumed him. After a moment the man caught his breath and his eyes regained some measure of sense. He focused on Neal’s face, only inches away.
His expression was one of absolute fear. He was clearly very aware of his suit’s betrayal and keen not to suffer the same fate again. He spared a quick glance to his side, to his colleague who had seemed to strike out at the men their leaders were here to meet, and saw that the other soldier was out cold now, dead, perhaps. He could not tell, though the traitor still stood, and his head was still held upright by the musculature in his suit’s neck.
Ree Chung-man turned back to the face of the man he knew was about to decide his fate.
“Now, calm down,” said Neal quietly but firmly. They did not have long before someone came to investigate further, indeed he could see someone was approaching even now. Neal waved for Jim to go and stop whoever it was from coming too close, and Jim reacted immediately, moving off to intercept them.
Neal went on, “Do you speak English?”
Ree did, if haltingly. It was a prerequisite for assignment to the diplomatic guard unit.
The man nodded ever so slightly, realized he could not move his head any farther than that, and panic threatened to set in once more.
“Calm now,” said Neal, seeing the rising terror in the man’s
He felt even more confident when the woman at Neal’s side did not even react, even as Neal himself began to rear back at the sight of the balled black fist coming at him.
He felt confident right up until the point where his arm froze, and his body suddenly wrenched backward as though propelled by a great wind.
But there was no wind. No response still from the big woman, who just looked on even as Neal began to turn to her, confusion and alarm filling his features as he went to speak.
“Do not be alarmed, Neal,” said Minnie, “the threat is past.”
“Threat!” he said. Then, realizing he was shouting, he said more quietly, “What the hell just happened?”
“The man intended you harm. I stopped him.”
Neal and Jim looked around. Barring their group of three, there were only the two guards in earshot, though there were others farther down the corridor, many of whom were glancing their way.
But it was the two guards Neal was worried about. One had clearly meant to strike him, and with no small amount of malice. Then he had seemed to pull back, though the man seemed as surprised as Neal when he did.
“The suits, Neal,” said Minnie. “They are second-generation battleskins, gifted to the Korean government, among others, in exchange for security concessions. But while they are pre-spinal interface, Madeline did install subspace comms in them, just in case. It was a precaution Ayala had requested, as it would allow me to take control over them … should I need to.”
Neal stared at her, then at Jim, then back at the soldiers, who were now both standing once more, though their faces were an incongruous mesh of discomfort juxtaposed against the enforced stillness of their bodies.
“The man on the left, your assailant, is close to unconsciousness, as I am constricting his lungs and throat. The man on the right appears innocent to the plot, but I am afraid his presence for its aborted execution means we will have to take him into custody as well.”
Neal walked up to them, at first hesitantly, then with a little more confidence as he saw how they were wheezing, unable to breath properly, let alone speak. He felt no remorse for the man who had tried to attack him, but the other man … it was disquieting to see how he struggled.
“Can you hear me?” Neal said to the distraught man, clearly fighting the profoundly unpleasant sensation of suffocation. “Minnie, stop this. He has done nothing.”
She did, and in a flash the man was drawing deep, hoarse breaths as though breeching the surface of a river-rapid that had subsumed him. After a moment the man caught his breath and his eyes regained some measure of sense. He focused on Neal’s face, only inches away.
His expression was one of absolute fear. He was clearly very aware of his suit’s betrayal and keen not to suffer the same fate again. He spared a quick glance to his side, to his colleague who had seemed to strike out at the men their leaders were here to meet, and saw that the other soldier was out cold now, dead, perhaps. He could not tell, though the traitor still stood, and his head was still held upright by the musculature in his suit’s neck.
Ree Chung-man turned back to the face of the man he knew was about to decide his fate.
“Now, calm down,” said Neal quietly but firmly. They did not have long before someone came to investigate further, indeed he could see someone was approaching even now. Neal waved for Jim to go and stop whoever it was from coming too close, and Jim reacted immediately, moving off to intercept them.
Neal went on, “Do you speak English?”
Ree did, if haltingly. It was a prerequisite for assignment to the diplomatic guard unit.
The man nodded ever so slightly, realized he could not move his head any farther than that, and panic threatened to set in once more.
“Calm now,” said Neal, seeing the rising terror in the man’s
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