The Year's Best African Speculative Fiction (2021)

by Oghenechovwe Ekpeki

  Bakida’s presence in their sacred place — his and Naleni’s — undid Jabari.

  Jabari wondered how Bakida could’ve tracked him here. He searched around and saw Naleni tethered to Bakida’s Kunguru.

  “Naleni?” he cried.

  “I have her,” Bakida dropped a pair of cuffs beside Jabari. “Come quietly or I’ll serve you swift justice right here,”

  Jabari stared at Naleni a long while.

  “I wouldn’t be too hasty,” he turned to Bakida and held up the two fuses Bakida flung at him. “You broke four control units; but only three charges are accounted for.”

  Bakida tapped his mask and his visuals cleared. He snarled and came to grab Jabari, but Jabari lunged for his foot. A poor plan. However hard he strained he managed only to make Bakida flail for balance. Bakida settled, stooped down and cracked Jabari’s bloody breathing mask with one blow.

  Whooooshhh, Jabari’s mask hissed. The rushing methane displaced what little oxygen Jabari had left. Jabari clawed at the mask clumsily until he unclasped it from his face.

  From his disadvantaged point of view, Bakida looked massive. No matter, titans can be toppled, Jabari thought. His body relaxed. He braced himself on his elbows. Rose but his feet slipped a moment, his thermskin running on so little power as to fulfil the basics. No matter, Jabari took a deep breath. Methane wasn’t all that noxious. Besides Naleni’s people had taught him to adapt to its lightness. Anyone else would feel quite heady. Jabari squared his shoulder, appeared larger.

  Bakida offered a diabolical grin.

  Jabari rammed into Bakida’s gut and wrestled to unsteady him, but the bastard stood firm. His boots wouldn’t slip, but their reinforced traction forced the ice to crack. Both Jabari and Bakida sunk into the freezing water underneath.

  In the water, Jabari was no longer prey. Bakida’s thermskin had power enough, but Jabari now knew how to hunt like the Jo’Nam. With his thermskin’s camouflage properties, he moved like he had a hydrostatic skeleton.

  So much for calling me spineless, Jabari gloated. He twirled and torpedoed at Bakida’s core with stealth and precision like ancient jengu. Bakida’s tensile armour-suit allowed for little flexibility.

  Bakida gasped and floundered like an eel in quicksand. He grappled to hold onto Jabari, but Jabari evaded him. Bakida sank deeper.

  Jabari didn’t linger to enjoy the satisfaction of watching Bakida sink. He knew Bakida’s suit would adapt quick enough. He swam for the surface. The ice they’d only a moment ago stood on seemed to melt rapidly. Jabari kicked furiously, pumped on adrenaline. Naleni was in danger.

  “Naleni?” he shouted as he swum towards solid ice.

  “Jabari?” Jabari swam towards the direction of her voice. His lungs burned, but he kicked harder and harder. He could see her.

  She looked smaller. Fragile. Broken, somehow.

  Jabari pulled himself to out of the water, but he was on the wrong end of the solid ice. He had to swim around or dash to her. The latter a risky idea considering the loose traction of his boots.

  Bakida crawled out of the water using a grappling hook. He stumbled towards Naleni and grabbed her by the neck. He palmed her mouth so she wouldn’t speak. The Jo’Nam never wore any breathing masks. Not down here at least. Naleni bit Bakida and he pulled his hand away.

  “Help me,” Naleni shouted.

  Bakida restrained her in a half-nelson. She tried, but couldn’t squirm away from his hold.

  “Lover boy,” Bakida said. “Your plan is foiled. Give up now and there’ll be less pain to trade.” Bakida’s tensile-armour suit had a vice-like grip. Naleni would never break free.

  “Jabari, don’t let her pay for your treachery.” Bakida’s voice carried a crisp note against the howling wind.

  “I’m here. Let her go,” Jabari walked towards the pair. His isothermals were slowly failing. He felt the cold creep in but forced himself to ignore it.

  * * *

  The shadow beneath the Flatform didn’t lift. Mist covered the pylon like a grey caftan over some mythical titan’s stump of a leg. It was solid, and dull against the faded light. Jabari’s Kunguru, in autopilot, flew Naleni in front of Bakida’s craft. The bastard had set coordinates for the large hangars in Sector One. ETA, thirty minutes.

  A portion of the intrinsic shield split open to allow their Kunguru to pass. Behind it closed all hope of escape.

  Their climb proved slow and ponderous, despite Bakida dribbling his fingers against the control panel. Jabari didn’t bother questioning this impatience. Neither did he regret getting himself here. Thoughts of justice and retribution didn’t bother him, but hopelessness clouded his heart. He now doubted the righteousness of his actions.

  In any case, Bakida would never understand Jabari’s motives, Jabari wasn’t sure he understood them himself anymore, but what was done was done. It wasn’t enough though. It wouldn’t set things right. His rebellion would never even the scales of Fort Kwame’s injustices. Everyone Naleni knew had lost family members to radiation leaking from the pylons. This was the unfortunate legacy of the scramble to survive in a broken world. Its victims had bloated, rotting skin, and bled from their orifices. Jabari had looked upon this misery feeling like a voyeur of private grief. Their dim and dwindling lives touched him. This was death’s ultimate kingdom. When the Elders approached him, despite his pride and everything he’d been told, he agreed to betray his name.

  * * *

  “Three minutes to docking,” Bakida said. He kept his eyes steady on the ring of glowing gas-flares guiding their descent onto the flatform.

  Bakida steadied the Kunguru and released the landing gear. Jabari’s Kunguru hovered low as Naleni climbed out. The hangar was a flurry of activity. Cadets scampered here and there in response to the charge which went off earlier. None of them seemed to notice the two Kunguru.

  Naleni’s eyes darted around, seemingly afraid and exposed.

  Jabari struggled against his restraints. He worried about her. The strangeness of the air, and the regiments assuming battle formations was an otherworldly sight. Their laser canons glistened in the weakening light. It felt like the end of the world, and Jabari and Naleni seemed the only ones caught by surprise. Had they been triple-crossed? This wasn’t how things should’ve gone.

  “I’m not surprised, honestly,” Bakida said. “Like your fallen baba, you’re the only one naive enough to think you could save the Jo’Nam.”

  Their airlock opened up.

  “Just kill me already. Don’t bore me to death with your vindication.”

  Bakida stepped out, circled backwards and undid the cuffs on Jabari’s limbs. They walked towards Naleni whose hands were bound behind her back. A hundred paces away, the five Sector Commanders marched towards the three.

  “Release her. Please,” Jabari pleaded Naleni’s fate. Her skinsuit had turned translucent as though externalising her fright. To her, the ionised air must’ve felt like complete sensory deprivation.

  “It’s not too late to reverse what you’ve done,” Bakida said.

  “It’s too late to reverse anything,” Jabari said.

  “If that were the case, I wouldn’t have bothered bringing you back,” Bakida said. “You both.” He nudged his chin in Naleni’s direction.

  “You touch her and I’ll —”

  “I won’t, but they might,” Bakida pointed to the Sector Commanders marching their way; a squadron of hard-jawed sentries following behind. “You’ve a chance to save not only her. But all of them, and us too.” He paused for effect.

  Jabari said nothing. His attention drawn towards Naleni.

  “Asalur, where’s the remaining charge? I caught her with two fuses, but here we have four control units. Where is it?” Bakida had carried the control units from the cryocrater.

  “Let her go.” Jabari answered. He was resolved to his fate.

  “There are teams scouring the reactors right now, but you could speed it up by telling us where. If you don’t. We all die. Right no
w, a legion of her people is marching to bludgeon the pylons,”

  “Good, that way they’ll finish what I couldn’t,” Jabari snarled. He knew better than to fall for Bakida’s manipulations. As far as he knew, the Jo’Nam exodus was miles away from the blast radius. He and Naleni should’ve been there with them also.

  “If we fall, they fall too, don’t you realise this?” Bakida said.

  Jabari sneered. “They’ll rebuild from our ashes. They’ll rebuild a better, fairer society than this one. The Orbital City network will be better for it.”

  “You fool! Haven’t you ever wondered why your baba never returned? We lost communications with all the other cities years ago. There’s no refuge anywhere else. This is the last Orbital city. Destroying Fort Kwame condemns us all.” He ambled closer to Jabari. His tone almost plaintive. “You’ve been misled. Help me before it’s too late.”

  “I was in awe of you earlier,” Jabari said. “But now I see you didn’t bring me here to face the poetic justice of dying with Fort Kwame. . . I’ll indulge your sadism, just let her go.”

  “She’s not worth destroying Fort Kwame for.”

  Jabari smiled in self-derision. He couldn’t save himself, but he would see her safe at least. Besides, there was a chance the last charge could still go off. Bakida had secured only two of the three charges. Naleni was clever enough to foil their plans. He’d see the deed done; he just had to find out if she at least fixed its fuse?

  “You’d destroy Fort Kwame seven times over if you’d seen the things I’ve seen. This is justice, long-overdue justice.”

  “It’s foolishness, that’s what —”

  The Sector Commanders arrived right on cue. They formed an arc around Bakida, Jabari and Naleni. The Kungurus hovered in the background.

  “Haai,” the burly Afrikaner from Sector One regarded Bakida. “Okol, sit-rep.” His direct, unnerving gaze pierced through Bakida’s stoicism like a laser.

  Bakida stood at attention, but before he could speak, Jabari cut in.

  “I’m the one you want. If you let her go, I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Jammer, we know everything,” the Afrikaner said. “Verder, don’t shake the chicken. You’re in no way entitled to assume leverage. If not for your mate’s graces you’d be dead as the cryocrater you sought shelter in.” He turned to Bakida, “Hand the meisie over.”

  Bakida did as commanded. The Afrikaner outranked all the other SCs.

  The Afrikaner knelt Naleni by his feet and drew his weapon to her brow. “I won’t count to drie. Go on, let the baboon out of your sleeve.”

  The SC’s actions froze Jabari.

  Naleni didn’t put up much of a fight. Bakida had disabled her mask’s comms. She was mute to everything.

  “Jabari, tell him,” Bakida said.

  “Let her go,” Jabari stood up to the SC. “There’s more than one charge left and if you want what I have you’ll let her go.”

  The SC turned to Bakida, “How many charges did you recover?”

  “All but one,” Bakida answered.

  “But you’ll never find it,” Jabari said. “And yes, the Jo’Nam have secondary control units. They must’ve already realised something isn’t right and will blow them any time now. Let her go and I’ll help you.”

  The SC chewed on this a moment. He didn’t like the taste, but signalled Jabari to approach.

  Jabari obliged him. He braced Naleni to her feet and activated her mask’s comms.

  “I’m sorry,” Jabari addressed Naleni. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I won’t leave you now.”

  She clung to him.

  “I will get you away.” Jabari spoke low, and in the little Jo’Nam he could speak. “Please tell me you fixed the last charge.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t find it. I looked and looked. The tall one cornered me before I… I dropped the fuse.” She clutched his shoulder tight. “Jabari, we—”

  “It’s alright. They don’t know this. “

  “They know,” she no longer spoke the Jo’Nam tongue.

  “They don’t.” Jabari insisted.

  “Tell them where the charge is,” she said.

  Jabari pulled back, stunned.

  “They lied to us. You have to help your people.”

  “You’re my people!”

  “Help them or we all die.”

  Jabari, baffled, held her at arm’s length. “What have they done to you?”

  “Nothing. They speak truth. There is no other city to run to. We were wrong. The Elders don’t know this. They are making a mistake. They will destroy the only hope we have left.”

  “You’ve seen the charts. Naleni, there are over a dozen orbital cities. We will re-join the others as planned.”

  “Those are old charts,” Naleni said. “Your friend showed me Fort Kwame’s recent charts. The eastern colonies have sunk and our passage to the old continent is gone. This is the last Orbital City. My people want justice but will damn us all with ignorance instead.”

  Jabari looked to Bakida for confirmation. He got it. Bakida was many things, a deceiver not one of them.

  “If this truly is the only City of Tomorrow, we are already doomed.” His shoulders deflated.

  “Asalurs; stubborn as ever. No problem,” the SC said. “I won’t appeal to your sense of duty, but I’ll call on your honour. On the name you used to take so much pride in.”

  “Your trust in my honour is grossly misplaced,” Jabari retorted.

  “Yah, that might be so. But your heart is what I can finally count on.”

  With that, he shot Naleni in the foot.

  Well, grazed her skin in fact. But the way she screamed in pain and the way Jabari fell by her side, spoke otherwise.

  None of the other commanders encircling them reacted.

  Jabari’s eyes filled with rage as he rose, fists balled. But the SC pointed the weapon to his temple. Bakida who had rallied to pull Jabari away, backed off on his own accord. Naleni lay wincing on the ground.

  “Hah,” the commander exclaimed. “My aim is worse than I thought. Will you allow me try again?”

  Jabari, though still seething, raised his hands in surrender.

  “Tell me where the charge is?”

  Jabari snarled but he had no leverage. His ruse had failed. And once again he put Naleni in harm’s way. Glancing at her, he sighed.

  “The cooling tower. Reactor six.” Jabari said, exhaling the words reluctantly.

  Jabari crawled to Naleni’s side.

  The commander barked an order to one of his underlings. The collective air of tension dropped.

  “Uh-uh, up, up,” the commander urged Jabari up. “Your dues aren’t fully paid up. Hop in your Kunguru and tell the Jo’Nam all you’ve learnt in the few minutes prior. They damn themselves in damning us. We believe many things about the water-folk, but we do not believe them to be suicidal maniacs.”

  Jabari wouldn’t leave Naleni.

  The Afrikaner motioned to Bakida, “Tend the meisie’s wound.”

  Bakida knelt beside Jabari. “Go. I’ll look after Naleni.”

  “You’ll pay for this,” Jabari said.

  “I don’t doubt that, but you won’t get your vengeance if the Jo’Nam destroy Fort Kwame.”

  “The Jo’Nam rally a few klicks from where Okol apprehended you,” the Afrikaner said. “There’s no exodus. We know they intend to attack at the very spot you crashed your Kunguru. If they attack there will be great loss on either side. Them more than us.”

  “I won’t do your bidding.” Jabari said.

  “A shame. All this will have been for nothing.” He came and raised Jabari to his feet. “It’s not just my bidding you do. But hers and theirs most of all. They still believe in the City of Tomorrow,” the Afrikaner pointed to Naleni.

  “You may be a cold bastard, Asalur, but not cold enough to bathe in the blood we will shed if you don’t act.”

  Jabari said nothing.

  The Commander tilted hi
s head. “Hmm. Yes, I’d be scared too. They might kill you, thinking you a double-crosser —”

  “I’m not scared.”

  “Of course. You’ve survived their capture once before. Do what you did then.”

  Jabari stared at Naleni but couldn’t bring himself to ask her to risk her life again.

  The Commander noticed his look and smiled. “Okol, help the meisie to his Kunguru.”

  Bakida hesitated a moment but obliged. He had finished dressing Naleni’s wound.

  Jabari asked for the charts Bakida had showed Naleni. Bakida fished a copy from the nearby Hangar offices and returned to watch Jabari assist Naleni up into his own Kunguru. No words were shared between Bakida and Jabari, nor between Jabari and Naleni.

  Jabari fired up the Kunguru and hovered away as the SCs and the rest of the squadrons readied themselves for the Jo’Nam; should he fail.

  Bakida lingered, his expression wary and full of suspicion. Jabari met his gaze and felt reassured somewhat. There Bakida was, yet again, sending Jabari off on a mission they both knew Jabari couldn’t pull off. But unlike the Kunguru crash a year ago. Jabari had a lot more invested in the outcome. Not that that tilted the balance in his favour, but it was a starting point. He was an Asalur, a starting point was more than he deserved. He squeezed Naleni’s hand and keyed in the coordinates for the cryocrater.

  24

  “We Come as Gods” © Suyi Davies Okungbowa

  Originally Published in BREATHE FIYAH: A Flash Fiction Collaboration Between FIYAH Magazine and Tor.com (October 19, 2020)

  First, we come as servants. Who we were before this is not important: not the wars we may have fought in or ran from; not the academies we may have attended or not; not if we were once master or slave. All that matters, in the beginning, is that we are a people’s people, that we may stand in the midst of a crowd and be indistinguishable. On our heads lie the same hair as theirs, and on our feet the same sandals. We are simply one and the same, isn’t it obvious?