She sat up. Though it was not slow. As her body regained consciousness, she shot upwards, her torso twitching so violently it sent her knees skidding in the snow.
Alice did not always have to breathe. It was a relatively unique feature of her race, but given warning, they could rely on several redundancies to sucking in nitrogen-rich air to live.
Given enough warning was the key point though. Alice's body had a variable structure. She was not capable of completely changing her form and appearance, but she could redirect the unique form of energy within her to bolster certain systems. Rather than subsisting on air, she could utilize the wind buffeting against her body and ripping through her already torn clothes to sustain her. If there was no wind, she could use heat, or water; anything. Not for long, but for however much time it would take to get her out of a compromising situation and back to safety.
Clamping a hand on her chest, the fingers caked in salt, she didn't care that it scratched uncomfortably at the skin.
She'd almost died.
Her mouth opening wide, gasping back and forth like a fish out of water, she stared down at the snow before her.
It was not splattered with blood; Alice’s race, though possessed of a circulatory system like a human's, did not subsist on a substance that any other race could recognize.
Pure energy, or something like it.
The specifics didn't matter though. All Alice cared about was that she was alive.
Her hood was off. Despite her tired and almost broken body, she tugged it back over her head.
It was automatic. A habit she would never forget. It was her last line of defense against being recognized.
Then she stood. She wobbled at first, her addled body trying to find the rigidity to support herself against the roar and bite of the wind.
But she managed it. Barely.
Bringing an arm up, she pushed it in front of her face, protecting her eyes and cheeks.
Though she had blithely jumped off the promenade into the ferocious gale without the possibility of being scratched, that had all changed.
That transport beam had sucked her energy right out of her. And if it hadn't lost lock at the last second, it would have killed her. She'd had just enough power left to withstand the fall.
She could no longer redirect her energy into her skin, arms, and legs, and steadily the salt crystals were lashing into her.
Turning from the brunt of it, Alice huddled an arm around her middle.
At least her hood would remain uncut. It was still Old Tech, unlike the simple, unsophisticated clothes that covered the rest of her body.
Taking a shuddering step forward, her knees jolting at the effort of moving against the wind, Alice began to walk.
She had not been expecting the transport beam; in jumping off the building she had been sure that the velocity of her fall would have made getting a lock on her impossible.
Yet he'd managed it. John freaking Doe.
Groaning, clutching a hand to her shoulder, Alice moved.
The more she did, the easier it got. She invited the wind to blast into her now, letting her arms drop a little; the more it buffeted against her, the more energy returned to her limbs. The bite of the salt was still harsh against her skin, and the cold was still ferocious. Alice would also have to get out of it as soon as she could, but for the immediate future the wind was the only thing keeping her going.
Letting her eyes close for a moment, she cursed the fact she'd gotten out of bed that morning. She also cursed the fact she'd been unlucky enough to run into Commander Doe.
Her situation was now unbelievably perilous. If anyone had seen her fall, the Orion Minor ICN would be redirecting its sensors to get a lock on her position. They would also be sending in the security forces.
Minutes ago, at her top strength, Alice would have been able to fight them off easily. Then she'd had her energy ripped right out of her, syphoned off by a technology hungry to claim the power it had once had.
The wind picking up in a greater roar, rushing so fast past her body that Alice felt as if she was in free fall again, she forced one foot in front of the other.