Eddie Drood feats (Dr. DOA)

Oh come on...

“It wouldn’t hurt to have the current administration owe us one,” the Matriarch conceded. “Never know when we might need to call it in . . . But that’s not why we’re sending you. We have our own reasons for wanting Cassandra Inc brought down. It’s started selling information on where Drood field agents are going to be and what they’re going to be doing. And that is unacceptable. No one gets to interfere with Drood business.”
Molly had a sudden moment of insight, and bounced up and down in her chair. “That’s why they need you, Eddie! All your fellow field agents are compromised, and running round in circles trying to avoid the futures predicted for them! You’re the only one without a current mission!” She broke off, then sat still and frowned. “No, wait, hold on a minute . . . If Cassandra Inc really can predict the future, it should know about this meeting and know that we’re coming.”
“According to the family psychics, Eddie has been through so much, in so many weird and unusual places, that he has become . . . unpredictable,” said the Matriarch.
“I’ve always thought so,” said Molly. -Dr. DOA

Eddie creates a set of handles in his armour for Molly to hang on to:

I concentrated, and grew a pair of sturdy golden handles out of the back of my armour, right between my shoulder blades. So Molly would have something to hang on to. -Dr. DOA

One of the limitations of Drood armour comes from the strain of having to maintain a major change in it for a long time:

I quickly pulled my glider wings back into my armour; it’s a strain to maintain any big change in the armour for long. -Dr. DOA

Technological manipulation at work again:

That she didn’t give me any grief for giving her orders was a sign of how concerned she still was about me. She just nodded and looked out into the corridor while I examined the communications equipment. It all seemed standard enough. I chose a likely looking terminal, armoured up my hand, and sent tendrils of golden strange matter sneaking into the system to override its restrictions and corrupt its programming. My armour can do many amazing things, and I don’t understand half of them. Mind you, I feel the same way about most of the cars I drive. The ship’s main computer couldn’t have been more helpful, answering questions almost before I could ask them. It still took a while to dig out the information I needed. Long enough for Molly to get bored at her post and wander back to join me. -Dr. DOA

Eddie's armour protects him from the gaze of a basilisk eye that kills everything it looks at:

“What the hell is it?” I said after I’d run out of anything else to do. I did think about prodding the eyeball with a golden finger, but I couldn’t convince myself that was a good idea.
“If that is what I think it is—and I’m pretty sure it is—we are in deep doo-doo,” said Molly.
“It’s never good when you use language like that,” I said. “Okay, hit me with the bad news.”
“It’s a basilisk’s eyeball,” said Molly. “Removed from its host, almost certainly without permission; greatly enlarged and then weaponized for sentry duty. If the eyelids open, it will quite definitely kill everything it looks at.” -Dr. DOA

[...]

I opened the door, and every alarm in the world went off at once. The eyelids snapped open, and the eyeball swivelled round to focus on its closest target, which was Molly. I didn’t have time to do anything but jump between her and the eyeball, subvocalising my activating Words as I moved. The armour leapt out of my torc as the basilisk looked at me, and a terrible light blazed up, filling the corridor and dazzling me even through my mask. A great force erupted from the eye, fierce and wild and deadly. It hit my armour, rebounded, and slammed into the eyeball. The lids slumped shut again, the eyeball shook all over, and then it fell to the floor. Landing hard, and somewhat squishily. The alarms all went quiet, as though embarrassed. I blinked several times until my eyes cleared, and then glanced over my shoulder. Molly was still behind me, unharmed. I armoured down, and she punched me hard in the shoulder.
“Ow!” I said. “What was that for?”
“For protecting me!” she said. “I can look after myself!” -Dr. DOA

More technological manipulation:

I found the main control station and sat down, armoured up one hand, and sent tendrils of golden strange matter surging through the systems. Computer screens burst into life all around me, packed with information. I grasped what I could, thought for a moment, and did the only useful thing left to me. I slaved all the systems to the steering wheel. I retrieved the golden tendrils and moved over to stand at the wheel. -Dr. DOA

Eddie wraps his armour around himself and Molly in a sort of cocoon shape, protecting them from an airship's crash-landing:

I held on to the wheel for as long as I could, and then turned away and grabbed hold of Molly. I concentrated, and my golden armour swept out to envelop her as well. The strange matter sealed us in together, and we held each other tightly inside our golden cocoon as the aircraft carrier smashed down into the reservoir. -Dr. DOA

Being poisoned while his armour is down doesn't stop it from keeping him alive in spite of it:

“Anything extreme enough to affect you now would be countermanded by your torc. It’s constantly monitoring and reinforcing your natural defences, fighting the poison. Protecting you from all outside influences.”
“Then why is he still ill?” said Molly.
“Without the torc, Eddie would have been dead weeks ago,” Dr Mary said steadily. “The torc is all that’s keeping him alive. You really need to speak to Ethel about this, Eddie. She can tell you more about the torc and its capabilities.” -Dr. DOA

The new Armourers give Eddie a "chemical nose" that can detect specific chemicals:

He offered me a small black plastic box, with a dial on the top. I hefted it warily, but it didn’t seem to be doing anything.
“That is a chemical nose,” said Victoria. “It’s been attuned to the poison in your system. Once you get near anything chemically similar, that box will take you straight to it.”
“Okay,” I said. “That could prove useful.” I slipped it into my pocket. -Dr. DOA

Then they give him a "neural inhibitor" that disrupts neural processes:

Maxwell handed over another small plastic box; this time in bottle green, with a single black button on top. “This is a neural inhibitor! Only works at close range, for the moment, but point this at any opponent and hit the trigger, and it will interrupt their thinking quite dramatically. Don’t point it at anyone you like; the side effects can be upsetting. And a bit messy.”
“Oh, don’t remind me,” said Victoria. “It took ages to clean up after poor Cuthbert.”
“He volunteered!”
“Not for that, he didn’t.” -Dr. DOA

Followed by a device that generates a field which forces people to tell the truth:

“Moving on,” Maxwell said quickly, holding out yet another small plastic box, this time in a garish purple. “Now, this is something rather special. You’ll be the first to test it.”
“Meaning it hasn’t actually been used in the field?” I said.
“Not as such, no,” said Victoria.
“Once you turn it on,” said Maxwell, “it generates a field that compels people to tell the truth. They don’t even realise anything’s changed; it all feels perfectly natural.”
I accepted the thing gingerly. “What are the drawbacks? Come on, there’re always drawbacks.”
“Well,” said Victoria, “apart from a tendency to overheat and blow up quite dramatically if you leave it running for too long . . . remember you’ll be inside the field too. So be very careful what you say out loud.” -Dr. DOA

Neural inhibitor at work:

Then all I had to do was hit the button on the top and activate the neural inhibitor.
Jack a Napes howled miserably, his whole body convulsing as the field generated by the box scrambled his thoughts. His hands jumped away from my throat, and he fell backwards off my chest, scrabbling helplessly on the ground beside me. I sat up, breathing hard and fighting to get air into my lungs again. -Dr. DOA

Eddie's armour protects him from the attacks of numerous elf-human hybrids, while also giving him the strength to beat them down:

The viewscreen didn't break or shatter; it just suddenly wasn’t there any longer. Instead, a great gap appeared in the wall, opening onto the dark and shadowy moor. A cold wind came blasting in, bringing with it the scent of muck and mud, rot and decay. The elven hybrids launched themselves through the opening, fighting one another in their eagerness to get to me. I armoured up and they swarmed all over me, clawing at my armour and snapping at my face mask to try to get through, to get at me. I grabbed hold of them and threw them away, but they just came straight back again. More and more of the hybrids hurled themselves at me, trying to drag me down through sheer weight of numbers. I stood my ground and clubbed them off me, one at a time.
 I had to hit them hard to make them let go. Bones broke and skulls shattered under the impact of my golden fists, but it was the only way. Nothing I did slowed their attack. Their blood-red eyes were full of a terrible hatred, and their heavy teeth snapped and ground together viciously. I kept clubbing them off me. Bodies littered the floor and did not rise again. I tried to tell myself, They’re not people any more . It didn’t help. -Dr. DOA

Eddie's Sight can see a person's soul. Or in this case, -all- of the souls a person has inside of them:

I took the opportunity to study the Soul Witch with my Sight. Ever since she’d arrived, I’d had the feeling there was more to her than met the naked eye. And sure enough, through the Sight, I could tell she didn’t just have a soul . . . She had several. Stacked inside one another, like Russian nesting dolls. The Soul Witch . . . Was she an eater of souls, a container of ghosts, or a preserver of personalities? I quietly drew Molly’s attention to the Soul Witch, and Molly nodded quickly to confirm she’d Seen it too. And then shrugged, to indicate she didn’t understand it either. -Dr. DOA

Eddie's torc can passively defend him from invasive technology:

I could tell some of the medical technicians were surreptitiously trying to scan my torc while I was being distracted with questions. I could feel it tingling at my throat. I wasn’t worried. My torc was quite capable of looking after itself. One of the machines suddenly exploded, another went up in flames, and one just disappeared. Everyone became even more polite after that. -Dr. DOA

With his torc, Eddie has the power to not only See the threads that chain an army of souls to their controller, but also to grasp them and snap them completely:

While I was still thinking that, Molly took a step forward, and she and the Soul Witch stood face-to-face; like two gunslingers meeting in the middle of Main Street. There was a sudden tension in the air, as powerful forces gathered. The two witches moved their hands slightly and adjusted their postures; professional fighters taking the measure of each other. And then the Soul Witch seemed to suddenly unfold , as all the souls stacked within her came forth, superimposing their presence upon and around her. Smoky ghosts, uncertain presences, made up of mists and tatters. The Soul Witch gestured, and the ghosts sprang forward like attack dogs, half of them heading for Molly and the others for me.
They swirled around Molly, circling her rapidly, unable to reach her. I armoured up, and they climbed all over me, trying and failing to force their way through my armour. They wrapped their smoky arms around me, holding me in place. They had the weight and gravity of unquiet souls with unfinished business. But when I tried to hit them, my golden fists passed right through them. They were only solid when they chose to be.
I still had my Sight. I could See the shining threads that connected each individual soul to the Soul Witch. And it was the easiest thing in the world for me to grab hold of the nearest shimmering threads with my golden hands and snap them. The souls convulsed as the strings that connected the puppets to their puppet master disappeared, and then I heard silent voices crying out, Free! Free at last! as the ghosts disappeared. The Soul Witch swore angrily, and pulled the remaining souls back from Molly and into her. -Dr. DOA

Some sort of scientific weapon fails to penetrate Eddie's armour:

And that was when Django Westphalion came storming in through a side corridor, bearing an energy weapon so big he needed both hands just to aim it. The technicians dived for cover again, while I armoured up and put myself between Molly and the Immortal. He opened fire, and a beam of energy shot out, so fierce it seemed to slice a path through reality itself to get to me. The beam slammed into my armoured chest, and the golden strange matter soaked it up like a sunbeam. Django cursed bitterly and threw the weapon to the floor. -Dr. DOA

Eddie uses his armour to tune out a specific noise, then boost his hearing in order to locate a timer:

I armoured up again and concentrated. My senses are always sharper, clearer, when I’m in my armour. First, I tuned out the siren, and then I boosted my hearing, listening for the timer. And there it was, just three decks down. We were in with a chance. I yelled to Molly to follow me and ran for the nearest ladder. -Dr. DOA

Eddie sends his strange matter into a bomb timer mechanism, then severs the connections between the timer itself and the bomb it's connected to:

Not alien tech. Earth tech . . . I pressed one golden hand carefully against the timer, and sent golden tendrils easing into the mechanism. They found their way in without any problem, and then it was the easiest thing in the world to sever the connections between the timer and the bomb. The siren snapped off, and a blessed silence returned. I pulled the tendrils back out, armoured down, and let out a long sigh of relief. -Dr. DOA

There's a limit to the amount of sound that Eddie can tune out with his torc:

I tried to tune out everything but human sounds, and found I couldn’t. It required a skill at fine-tuning that was simply beyond me. I made a mental note to put in some practice later. You never know what you’re going to need out in the field. -Dr. DOA

Eddie redirects the coordinates to a dimensional door, changing them from the North Sea to the Dreamtime:

“The Door is my bait, my trap,” she said. “I knew it would bring you here. To me.”
“All you had to do was stand still,” said Molly. “We’ve been looking for you.”
“Of course you have!” said Angelica. “You want to kill me. You have to kill me, because you know that’s the only way you can stop me from killing Eddie. But I won’t go down alone. This Door opens onto the bottom of the North Sea. Just think of all the pressure, all the tons of water, pressed up against the other side of that Door. Ready to flood into this tunnel the moment I open it! Even you and your armour couldn’t survive that, Eddie Drood. And don’t think you can use your Glass to escape; I’m suppressing it.”
“But you’d drown with us!” said Molly.
“It’ll be worth it,” said the Fury. “To have my revenge at last. You think I want to go on living without my husband?”
“What if I could give him back to you?” I said.
She looked at me. Thrown completely, by the one thing I could say that she wasn’t expecting. I moved over to the Door, armoured up my hand, and sent golden tendrils surging into the lock. I entered the access codes for the Dreamtime, which were still fresh in my armour’s memory from a recent case I worked with the Soulhunters. The combination lock spun frantically, and then slammed to a halt. I whipped out the golden tendrils, and the Door opened, onto the Dreamtime.
It swung back into the wall, and light blasted out into the mine tunnel. A glorious illumination, like no other light in the world. Older, purer; primordial. Sounds rang out from behind the Door, wild and free, like mountains singing to one another at the dawn of the world. I raised my voice and addressed the Dreamtime.
“Armin del Santos, come out! Your wife is waiting for you.” -Dr. DOA

Eddie fights evenly with an alternate version of himself from another timeline, smashing up the Drood Armoury and hitting each other with blows that "would have shattered walls and brought down buildings":

“All that matters is, I can’t bear to have you around any longer. Your mockery of me, your very existence, offends me.”
“Funny,” I said, “I feel the same way about you.”
“Thought you might,” said Edmund. “Come on, you know some things are just inevitable.”
We both armoured up in a moment and went for each other. Molly backed quickly away, but I barely noticed. All I could think of was getting my hands on Edmund. My shadow self; my murderer. We slammed against each other with the force of living mountains. Golden fists pounded featureless masks, with a sound like golden bells dying. I couldn’t hurt him, and he couldn’t hurt me . . . but we tried. With all our strength and passion, we tried.
We each struck terrible blows that would have shattered walls and brought down buildings. We beat and clubbed at each other, and our armour took it all. We fought and wrestled, equally strong, equally matched. I grabbed up a workstation and broke it over his head. He threw me through a metal tower. We raged back and forth through the Armoury, breaking everything everything we touched and smashing through everything that got in our way. Now and again we’d snatch up some abandoned weapon and try it on each other. But though the air shimmered with strange energies, and fires started up all around, we never came to any harm. We were Droods in our armour, and nothing could touch us. We rampaged up and down the length of the Armoury, sometimes wrapped in explosions from the things we destroyed, like the only real things in a paper world.
Driven by a rage not born of reason. -Dr. DOA