Behind Her Eyes Ch. 01

She stepped towards it, picked it up and partially unrolled it. The severe face of Boris Kolmov stared back at her, steely gray eyes resolute over his bushy moustache. He stood before a backdrop of stone and steel factories, belching enormous quantities of black smoke. Beneath his face ran the lines, "Let us follow the example of Comrade Boris and work for the good of the People!"

<I'm surprised this wasn't properly disposed of,> thought Yvain. <Kolmov has was unpersoned weeks ago.>

Zoe had known his face well, from her job at the cannery. He had been a high-ranking Party official in the People's Larder. She remembered seeing his face blown up to enormous size on the factory wall, and how he would pat his belly as he congratulated the workers on increased canning production. Production was always increasing, by whatever measures he used, even in the weeks when Zoe had sat on her hands, waiting for delayed supplies, or for the electricity to turn back on. He seemed to get fatter as she and her colleagues tightened their belts.

She had won the Boris Kolmov Worker of Month award once, a rusty pewter medal she recalled with more embarrassment than pride. But that was before he was discovered to be an enemy of the revolution, a secret spy for reactionary forces. That seemed to happen to a lot of high-ranking party officials, now that she thought about it.

<I think he was sleeping with the head of the Larder's wife,> mused Yvain. <If only some of the bigwigs who get accused of being spies for us actually were...>

Zoe pressed the poster against her front, bringing Kolmov's eyes into direct contact with her nipples. She wrapped the poster around herself, her butt against a factory. Its glossy finish felt smooth against her skin, and she glanced down at her handiwork. The poster covered her all the way from just below her shoulders down to her knees.

<Kolmov's doing some spying for us after all,> Yvain thought wryly. This thought was followed by an instant sense of panic, and the mental image of a boot going into a man's mouth.

<Hey!> Zoe thought back, though she was unable to suppress a small giggle. The thought of giving the real Boris Kolmov this kind of a close look at her was repellent, but this was only a poster. <Hmmm... you don't think this has got any trackers in it, do you?>

<No, they don't do that to posters. And even if they did, this one would be deactivated. They don't want any evidence that Kolmov ever existed.>

Reassured and somewhat covered up, Zoe continued down the alleyway, her left arm pressed tightly to her side to keep the ends of the poster together. Walking was a little awkward like this, and she had to be careful not to let the poster slip down, but it felt a lot better than being naked and completely exposed. It would have been quite obvious to any onlookers that she wasn't wearing anything underneath the poster, but she was showing no more skin than she would have in a shoulderless dress.

At the end of the alley, Yvain indicated that she should turn right, and she did so. Now on the open street again, her heart beat faster, and she picked up the pace, keen to return to the shelter of the next narrow alleyway.

But before she could get there, she heard a voice.

"Halt, comrade!"

Zoe froze at once. She was caught! All the effort she'd put in researching the Resistance, discovering how to jailbreak her CMR, all the risks she'd taken... all useless! She was caught, and she hadn't even officially joined yet.

<Stay calm,> thought Yvain, again projecting a sense of peace into Zoe's spinning mind. <Remember, you haven't officially joined us yet. You're still a normal citizen. Just act like one, play it cool.>

<Okay, okay, you're right,> Zoe thought back. <Just... help me out here!>

<Of course. Do as the officer tells you, and I'll make sure you can answer any questions he has.>

"Turn around, please," came the voice again.

Seconds had passed since the voice first spoke, but Zoe felt she'd lived a lifetime inside the silence. Slowly, she turned around to face her assailant, plastering a nervous smile on her face and holding tight to the poster. "Good evening, comrade," she said.

The man who had stopped her had curly blonde hair and a nasty look on his face. From his blue uniform, she could tell he was part of City law enforcement. He was precisely the sort of person she'd been worrying about running into tonight, even with clothes on. Being naked but for a poster made it ten times worse.

"It's quite late at night, comrade," he said, speaking slowly. The man took a few steps forward, his eyes flicking up and down Zoe's body, as if he was trying to X-ray the poster. "I don't think I've seen this kind of uniform before. What's your name and occupation?"

A vivid image of an ID card she'd never seen before appeared in Zoe's mind. "Justine Trask," she said. "Logistics."

The man studied her face for a moment, and then produced a device from his pocket. It resembled a barcode scanner, and was used to read CMRs. He held it up to Zoe's eyes and pressed a button.

<Don't worry, he won't be able to detect anything unusual about your CMR with that thing,> thought Yvain. <And the ID records I've just put in place are legit.>

A red light flashed briefly, and the officer glanced at the reading on his end of the device. He frowned, clearly upset that his reading corroborated "Justine"'s story. "You're a little underdressed for your night shift, Comrade Justine," he said.

"I'm not on night shift," Zoe replied bluntly. "I work days. I was just sleep... sleepwalking."

<Nice thinking. I've got an address right near here all ready to go if he asks where you live.>

The officer raised an eyebrow. "Do you sleep under a... poster?"

"No, of course not," Zoe replied, blush rising to her cheeks. "I sleep in the nude." She rushed the words out forcefully, bluntly, and for the first time, the officer broke eye contact with her, clearly flustered by the mental image she'd just given him.

<Keep going...> thought Yvain.

"Yes, I sleep naked," continued Zoe. "Sometimes I sleep walk. Usually not this far. But tonight, my mind is restless. It is busy, thinking of the work that must be done, and of all the ways I can aid our People and the glorious revolution. So busy that I was compelled to spring out of bed in the middle of the night, eager to return to my post at the station. I woke up a few minutes ago in that alley around the corner, and found this poster to cover myself."

The officer nodded, only half-listening.

"Now, I must return to my bed so that I can awake fully rested for another day of proud toil in the name of our city. Comrade, if you would kindly dismiss me, I bid you good night!"

The officer was silent for a long moment, gazing off into the distance. Then he turned back to Zoe, looked slowly up and down once more, and sighed. "All right, Comrade Justine. I will not keep you from your rest."

Mentally, Zoe breathed a deep sigh of relief, and she felt Yvain do the same. "Thank you, Comrade," she said, turning around.

"Oh, but there is one thing," said the officer.

Zoe's stomach sank.

<Now what?> thought Yvain, irritably.

"It is illegal for citizens to possess materials which glorify traitors to the revolution."

Zoe's eyes widened. "W-what do you mean?" she asked, turning back to face the officer, whose face had broken into a twisted grin.

The officer pointed to Zoe's front, and she looked down. Right there, at the top of the poster's white back, small black words were printed which read, "Comrade Boris Kolmov Inspirational Poster #13."

The sound of Yvain swearing filled Zoe's mind.

"Please, comrade, give the poster to me so that I can dispose of it." The officer reached out a hand.

"B-but, i-it's just— I—I'm naked!"

"Not to worry comrade, I have a spare uniform for you," said the officer, patting the bag he carried on his back. "It is... the correctional uniform, admittedly, but you will not need to wear it for very long. And even that is a better covering... you must feel quite embarrassed."

<I'm sure I don't have to tell you not to put on his correctional uniform,> Yvain thought at Zoe. <Those things have even stronger trackers in them than the others.>

<Of course. But what should I do?>

<Just... give him the poster.>

<Oh he's going to love that! You can see the look in his eyes, Yvain.>

<I'm working on a plan, Zoe, just trust me, okay. Hand over the poster, and this will all be over soon.>

Zoe wasn't convinced, but she didn't see any other options. <Fine.> She looked at the officer's still-outstretched hand with disgust.

It took all of her willpower to slowly pull the poster away from her body. The officer's eyes grew wider and wider as the cardboard separated from her skin, revealing increasing amounts of cleavage. The edge of the poster had barely touched his outstretched fingers when he snatched at it greedily and pulled.

Zoe yelped and involuntarily spun around as the poster whipped off her body, giving the officer a full view of her naked form. She shivered under his hungry glare, moving her arms desperately to cover herself.

The officer tore his eyes away from the naked woman in front of him to regard the poster he was now holding. His face contorted with hatred as he looked at Boris Kolmov's face. "Where did you find this?" he spat, looking back at Zoe.

"I-I told you, in the alley over there," Zoe motioned with her chin. "Next to a dumpster."

"Are you a Kolmov sympathizer?" the officer asked, his eyes burning holes into Zoe's skin. "One of his agents?"

"N-no, of course not! Kolmov is a traitor to the revolution! I spit on him!" At this, Zoe made a show of gathering up saliva in her cheeks and spitting on the face of the poster.

The officer watched with bemused interest. "As well you should." He produced a lighter from his pocket. There was a click, and it produced a small, wavering flame. "We must guard our revolution," said the officer, as the flame leapt from his lighter to cardboard poster.

Zoe watched as the face of Boris Kalmov, and her only covering, twisted and blackened under the flames. She forced a wide, bloodthirsty smile, the appropriate response to the destruction of a counter-revolutionary image.

The officer's eyes remained fixed on her body. He was so distracted that the flames licked his fingers before he shouted and released the remains of the destroyed poster. Zoe forcibly suppressed a laugh.

The officer hid his hand behind his back and took a step closer to her. "I think, Comrade Trask, there are better coverings for your body than the traitor Kolmov," he said, taking a strand of her hair between his fingers.

"L-like that correctional uniform?" Zoe asked, pulling back slightly.

"That's one example," said the officer, whose hand had now migrated to her shoulder, and was slowly carressing her bare skin.

Zoe could feel the officer's heavy breath. He was several inches taller than her. <Yvain?!> she signaled desperately. <What do I do? What's the plan?>

<Don't worry, Zoe, you'll get out of this! It's almost done uploading... ninety-five percent...>

The officer's hand was moving further down her arm with each stroke. <What's almost done uploading?>

<Well, it's kind of experimental technology, but the trials have gone really well, so I think it'll work!> Yvain replied excitedly. His thoughtwaves gave off the distinct impression of being more excited about whatever tech he was talking about than worried for Zoe's safety. <Ninety-seven percent... ninety-eight!>

The officer's hand had moved from Zoe's arm to her chin, and he was looking deep into her eyes. Zoe fought to retain a blank expression as she screamed internally. <What are you doing to my mind, Yvain?!>

<Giving you a fighting chance. One hundred percent. It's done.>

At once, Zoe's mind was flooded with images of martial artists fighting each other. Hundreds of men and women flashed before her mind's eye, locked in dances of death. Then she saw herself fighting, saw her arms and legs move as they never had. The feeling spread down from her mind to her body. Her muscles tensed. Memories of bruises and injuries she'd never had surfaced as brief flashes of pain. Zoe felt... powerful. Newly aware of her body and its capabilities.

The sensation of a hand against her lower back brought her back to reality. She'd zoned out for long enough to allow the officer to embrace her with both arms and press his body against hers. One of his hands was caressing her upper back, and the other traveling lower... lower...

A scream of pain tore the night in two as Zoe's knee made contact with the officer's crotch. He staggered backwards, face contorted with tears of rage. "Bitch!" he screamed, fumbling for the truncheon on his belt.

But before he could produce his weapon, Zoe spun around and aimed a roundhouse kick at his face. Her heel connected with his chin, and he collapsed sideways, banging his head on the sidewalk.

<He's unconscious,> Yvain thought. <Nice work, Zoe.>

Zoe stared at her hands and feet in disbelief, the new powers of her limbs still coursing through her. She was shaking with exhilaration. <I can't believe I just did that. That was... amazing! How is it even possible?>

<Like I said, new tech, still very experimental, but very promising. These CMRs are good for a lot more than just keeping people brainwashed.>

<I'll say! What else can you do with this?>

A slow clap startled Zoe from her mental conversation and she glanced up. A long, dark black car with tinted windows had pulled up on the side of the street, and a large man in a high-ranking Party official uniform had stepped out. He was smiling at Zoe and clapping.

The man had short, thin hair and a cleanshaven face, but was of a similar age and bodyfat percentage to Boris Kolmov, and looked to hold a similar rank to him. Above a certain level, all Party officials had the same kind of appearance, which marked them as significantly better fed and taken care of than the average citizen.

<That's Heinrich Jorgenson!> thought Yvain, his emotions a tangle of nervous excitement. <He's the second in command of Citizen Safety. What's he doing here?>

<What? Seriously?> Zoe's heart sank. <Yvain, what do we do now? I just beat up an officer in front of a secret police boss!>

<Just wait. Let's see how this plays out. He doesn't seem to be angry or upset with you.>

Zoe was mad. <"Let's see how this plays out?" Really? Maybe you should go fetch some popcorn to watch me get arrested!>

"Good evening, my dear," said Heinrich, as he slowly walked towards Zoe. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. The sudden physicality reminded Zoe that she was naked, and blush rose to her cheeks.

Henreich glanced down at the unconscious officer. Then, to Zoe's great surprise, he gave the body a swift kick. "Badge number three-five-oh-seven. I will be speaking to his superior about this man's greed." He looked back up at Zoe. "I am sure Romondo will not be happy to hear that his newest girl was accosted like this on her way to Public Service."

<Just nod and go with it, don't act confused,> Yvain thought at her, and Zoe obeyed.

The sides of Henreich's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "That was quite the display. I do so like a feisty lady. And a very daring outfit as well." Henreich winked. "Romondo has outdone himself." For a moment, Henreich stood still as his eyes wandered across Zoe's body.

<I know you want to, but don't cover up,> Yvain thought at her. <Jorgenson thinks you're his Public Service girl for the evening. How perfect!>

<PERFECT!> Zoe screamed internally. She couldn't believe the gleeful thoughtwaves she was receiving from Yvain, all at the prospect of her being mistaken for a prostitute. <What, do you want to watch? You sick freak!>

<No, listen, please,> Yvain pleaded. <We've been trying to get access to this guy for months. He's a really slippery character—you know how the secret police are, changing names and faces all the time, never appearing in public, ghosts the lot of them! But now, by pure random coincidence, we've got an in!>

Zoe shuddered. <You can't be serious.>

<You want to help the Resistance, right Zoe?>

<Of course I do! That's the whole reason I'm even here right now, naked on the street corner!>

<Well, this could really help us out. Just play along for a bit, get in the car, go back to his place.>

<B-but he'll expect... I mean, I'll have to...>

<Oh, that!> A short, nervous laugh from Yvain echoed across Zoe's mind. <We've got tech that will take care of that!>

Zoe was thoroughly confused. <Really?>

<Yes, of course. Honeytraps have it easy these days with CMRs! Look, when it gets too much for you, just put your thumb behind his ear, against his CMR, and give me the signal. Then I'll breach it and generate a fantasy in his mind. While he's writhing around on the bed, solo-style, you'll be free to search the place and get out.>

<And that'll actually work?>

<It should.>

"Your beauty is very striking against this city backdrop, dear, but you must be getting cold," said Heinrich, taking Zoe's hand once more. "Please, accompany me back to the vehicle."

Zoe smiled weakly at Heinrich and allowed him to lead her by the hand towards the open passenger door of his limousine. She had to step wide to avoid the body of the unconscious officer.

Heinrich placed his other hand on Zoe's hip as he guided her to sit down in the spacious interior of the limousine. The leather was cool against her bare rump.

<Welcome to your first mission, Fighter Zoe,> thought Yvain.

<For the Resistance,> she thought back, as much for his benefit as her own.

To be continued...