The Hero of Numbani

by Nicky Drayden

  Orisa galloped toward Doomfist like she was ready to seek revenge. Efi leaped down from the balcony and then the stage, knowing that between Lúcio’s barriers and Orisa’s defenses, she would be safe.

  She hoped.

  In any case, she helped to herd people toward the exits, doing her best to calm their fears. Hassana, Naade, and the drama club worked on the outer sections of the crowd to avoid attracting attention.

  “Doomfist, you will be brought to justice,” Orisa said, aiming her arm at him.

  Doomfist laughed. “My friend, you do not want to get in the way of this. Go and sit down, and I will allow you and your friends to live.”

  “He’s stalling for time,” Efi shouted. “Attack him.”

  But it was too late. Doomfist’s gauntlet had already recharged. He punched it into Orisa’s barrier. It lit up brilliantly from the impact, but held tight. They circled each other, Doomfist attacking, Orisa defending. With all of Orisa’s upgrades, she was finally an even match for him, and with Lúcio’s help, there was no way they could lose.

  A series of blasts from nearby Talon agents hit right near Efi’s feet, so she scrambled back to the wall and hid behind an enormous speaker, out of harm’s way.

  “Do not let this robot live,” Doomfist commanded his lieutenants. They trickled in from behind Orisa, pelting her with bullets. She turned and redeployed her shield, but it left her exposed to Doomfist. He shot her with his hand cannons, bullets nicking her metal as he recharged for another big attack.

  Lúcio jumped up, aimed his sonic amplifier near Orisa, and drove it into the ground. She shuddered when the sound wave hit her, and then a faint green glow engulfed her—providing her with her own personal barrier.

  Lúcio distracted the lieutenants, engaging his crossfade while skating circles around them. Then he started taking them out one by one with his sound waves. He was moving so fast, Efi could barely keep her eyes on him as the music coming from his backpack speaker filled Unity Plaza with an energizing beat. Efi glanced back at Orisa, but she wasn’t fighting. She was standing there dancing as Talon agents attempted relentlessly to shoot through the green, undulating barrier surrounding her.

  “What are you doing, Orisa?” Efi shouted.

  “Efi Protocol #4: When Lúcio drops a beat, stop whatever you’re doing and dance.”

  “Override that protocol,” Efi said. “Help Lúcio!”

  Immediately, Orisa took on a wide-legged stance, fists raised and ready to fight.

  Efi felt helpless as she watched from behind the speaker, but she did notice how well Lúcio and Orisa worked together, the beat from his crossfade helping them to coordinate their attacks. Orisa’s supercharger had done something similar, right after Lúcio had fixed it.

  “Orisa, throw out your supercharger!” Efi called.

  Orisa slung the supercharger out. It landed hard on its end, filling the entire plaza with a unifying beat. Orisa and Lúcio moved in sync and covered for each other as they took the Talon agents out.

  But someone else must have noticed how the supercharger was making them work together, because one of the lieutenants escaped the fighting and ran toward it. It was Efi’s cousin. He raised his gun, aimed it at the supercharger, ready to destroy yet one more thing.

  “Bisi,” Efi yelled at her cousin. “Don’t do it.”

  He smiled. “Little cousin. I gave you the chance to be on the winning side. You chose not to take it.”

  “Well, now I’m giving you a chance. The chance to be on the right side. It’s not too late. I miss my cousin. I miss the person you used to be.”

  Bisi shrugged, then blew the supercharger into bits, pieces of electronic equipment scattering all over the place. The beat faded. All that was left were the sounds of terror. “Compassion is a weakness,” he said. “Doomfist taught me that.”

  Without the supercharger, Orisa and Lúcio fell out of sync and lost their tactical advantage.

  “Look what you’ve done!” Efi screamed at him. Bisi only smirked and ran back to rejoin the fight. He distracted Lúcio long enough for Doomfist to catch him with an uppercut to the chin.

  Lúcio went sailing into the air, his sonic amplifier flying out of his hand with such a force that the cable snapped. It hit the ground twenty meters away from him with a horrid crack. It took Lúcio a moment to shake off the hit, but by the time he did, three lieutenants stood between him and the amplifier. He slowly got to his feet, raised his arms up in defense, then, using the balance and momentum of his own body, swung his leg high into the air, the heel of his skate catching the chin of one of the lieutenants. Efi was impressed with Lúcio’s capoeira, the same dance-fighting that her people practiced. The lieutenant wasn’t as moved by the display and raised his gun, firing at Lúcio.

  Lúcio started skating, as fast as he could, but he couldn’t outrun their bullets forever.

  It wasn’t looking good out there. She had to do something. Efi looked at the sonic amplifier sitting out in the open, the Brazilian tree frog symbol on the front staring at her, like it was waiting for her to do something. What could she do? She didn’t know how to fight. Efi had asked her aunt Yewande to teach her capoeira once. She’d seen the old holopics from when her aunt had practiced the martial art as a teen, but that was before the Omnic Crisis, and Aunt Yewande didn’t talk about things before the Crisis.

  And now a new crisis was unfolding, right here, and Efi felt powerless to stop it.

  “I thought you were supposed to bring luck,” she yelled at the frog.

  Still, the frog stared back at her.

  And slowly, Efi’s mind started to churn, and she couldn’t keep from wondering how Lúcio’s sonic amplifier worked. Efi realized that while she couldn’t fight with her body, she could fight with her brain. She gathered her courage, and stealthily snuck down to retrieve the device amid the chaos of flying rubble. She studied the insides, then glanced back at the mess left of the concert’s massive sound system. If she could reconfigure the pieces and make a giant sonic amplifier, it might give them a chance of beating Doomfist for good.

  “I know that look,” Dayo said, sneaking up beside her. “If you’ve got something planned, I’m here to help.”

  “Us too,” Joké said. “We feel useless out here. We want to fight, too.”

  Efi looked at Dayo and Joké and Sam, and a few of the other drama students. She’d seen them work together to build amazing things. And she knew they could help her now. She quickly drew up the schematics and assigned everyone a role. Dayo dodged bullets as he retrieved a long stretch of wiring from across the stage. Joké sprinted back and forth, gathering up busted pieces of speakers, as much as her arms could carry. And Sam helped Efi assemble everything, handing her the exact item she needed as she called for them. Efi worked as fast as she could. She couldn’t even spare a glance to check on how the battle was going, but it wasn’t sounding good. Minutes later, they had a sonic amplifier five meters high and nearly as wide.

  Naade went around shoving earplugs into everyone’s ears, as below, Orisa and Lúcio were completely surrounded and out of options. Doomfist lit Orisa up with another rocket punch, stunning her. Without her shields, Orisa had no protection. And without his sound barrier, Lúcio was left completely vulnerable as well. Doomfist saw his opportunity to strike. He kneeled for a couple seconds, channeling an enormous amount of potential energy, then jumped high into the air, yelling “Meteor strike!”—gauntlet aimed right at Lúcio.

  Efi didn’t wait another second before she turned on the sonic cannon. There was no time for testing. No time for bugs. This had to work. She played a single note.

  It was so loud, it knocked her off her feet. The glass of the building across the way shattered, and Doomfist was knocked off target, landing several meters away from Lúcio. It was still enough to daze Lúcio, but he pulled himself up and got away. Efi fired again, and the next building over shuddered, a giant crack winding all the way to the top. A gazelle head sculpture was perched at the ap
ex, and all eyes focused toward it as it came barreling down the slope of the building. Doomfist’s lieutenants started fleeing, but the head slid toward them, charging like an angry beast. It collided with them and they were knocked back from the impact.

  In the confusion, Lúcio was able to regroup, positioning himself behind Orisa as she finally came back online. He crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side. “Why are you so angry?” Lúcio said to Doomfist in a playful tone.

  There was a flicker in Doomfist’s eyes, just for an instant, but Efi noticed it. A hesitation. A hint of doubt. Doomfist projected a calm and controlling demeanor, but despite the declaration of victory painted on his skin, the outcome of this fight was not yet determined.

  “Give up now!” Efi screamed down at Doomfist. “Or we’ll play a song that’s guaranteed to make you move.”

  Now Efi and her friends had the upper hand. Bisi and Doomfist backed away from them, toward the edge of the catwalk that overlooked the city, a thirty-meter drop onto one of the busiest streets in Numbani.

  “There’s nowhere to go now,” Lúcio said. “Surrender. I’ll bet they even kept your prison cell open for you.”

  “I’m not going back,” Doomfist said.

  “Come on, Bisi,” Dayo said. “It’s not too late to ditch Talon. If you continue down this path, you will only cause more pain for everyone.”

  Efi swore she saw Bisi’s lip tremble. Doomfist must have noticed, too, because the fingers on his gauntlet twitched, and then he struck out and pulled Bisi into the massive fist. Bisi struggled and fought to free himself.

  “Rethinking your life decisions?” Doomfist asked Bisi, his voice light, but his stare intense.

  “No, Doomfist,” Bisi cried out as he was lifted off the ground. His feet kicked back and forth, trying to find the ground … “I am still dedicated to the cause!”

  “Put him down,” Efi demanded.

  Doomfist pursed his lips, then moved Bisi over the sheer drop. Now her cousin was struggling to hold on tight. “Take another step forward and he’s roadkill.”

  “Should I fire upon Doomfist?” Orisa asked Efi.

  Efi stood there, struck still by terror, seeing her cousin dangling like that. If Orisa fired on Doomfist, he’d drop Bisi. If she did nothing, Doomfist would toss him anyway. There was no answer to give. What would Efi tell her parents? Her auntie?

  “Doomfist,” Bisi said, his voice cracking at the edges. “I’ve stood by your side, haven’t I? I’ve done everything I could in my power to serve you well!”

  Doomfist laughed. “If you’ve been by my side, learning from me all this time, then you would know that this is the best way you can serve me now.” Then he tossed Bisi over the railing.

  “Orisa! Do something!” Efi screamed, pure fear carrying her feet forward toward the railing. Orisa leaped into action. Efi knew the logical thing for Orisa to do was to take out Doomfist and restore peace to Numbani, but she hoped upon hope that her robot would think with her heart.

  Orisa hustled faster than Efi had ever seen her move, and the robot fired a green orb over the side of the catwalk. By the time Efi made it to the edge, Bisi was caught by the graviton surge from the Tobelstein reactor and yanked back onto the catwalk. He looked up at Efi, met her gaze, then looked away. Ashamed.

  “Doomfist is getting away!” Lúcio said, skating after him, but without his sonic amplifier, he was left with no way of fighting against their enemy. Efi looked up, saw Doomfist look back at her and then jump onto another platform. Then another. He disappeared into the shadows between buildings. Orisa moved to charge after Doomfist, but Efi held her hand up, stopping her.

  “It’s no use. He’s gone,” Efi said, her head hanging. “We failed.”

  “He got away, but we didn’t fail,” Lúcio reassured her. “The way you worked back there, that was amazing. Your quick thinking saved my life, and the lives of thousands of people. But we’ll find Doomfist. And he’ll pay.”

  Efi nodded, but she still wasn’t convinced. “I guess, but how can you be so sure?”

  Lúcio reached down into one of the crevices in his skates and pulled out a piece of folded paper. He opened it and showed it to Efi. It was a photograph, old tech, not a single holographic overlay. It showed a collection of colorful homes, crowded together and crawling up the side of a steep hill. “I recognize that. That’s your old favela,” Efi said, very sure of herself.

  Lúcio shook his head. “Not my old favela. It’s still my home.” He pointed to a light blue house no bigger than the nail on his pinkie finger. “Here. That’s where I live. And these are my neighbors. The kids who grew up with not much more than a fútbol and an empty lot, having the time of their lives. The musicians jamming on the streets, some of them performing on the same corner since I was a kid. The Yoruba aunties selling akarajé and acaçá at the market.” Lúcio winked at Efi, a wink that made the whole wide ocean between their continents all but disappear. “They are who I fight for. I will do everything in my power to protect my favela. That is why I’m sure that we will find Doomfist and bring him to justice.”

  “But I’ve seen your home! The white stone condo in Ipanema—the whole eighth floor to yourself, facing the beach and where you skate down the pretty cobblestone roads. 590 Avenida Vieira—” Efi stopped herself, not wanting to sound like she was completely obsessed with him or anything. “You know, the one that was featured on Cribs 411.”

  “That’s my studio, and to be fair, I do spend quite a bit of time there,” Lúcio admitted. “But I’m back in my favela as much as I can be. Ipanema is nice, but you can’t get good pão de queijo there. Not like my vo makes them.”

  His grandmother, Efi knew from the little bit of Portuguese she’d picked up. She smiled, imagining how deeply Lúcio’s roots ran in his neighborhood and in Rio. Numbani was a young city in comparison, but Efi looked out over Unity Plaza and the buildings beyond—where her family lived, and her friends, too. Where Mr. Bankolé had his grocery store. Where Ms. Okorie taught calculus. Efi knew that this was where her roots were tied, and she would protect this city … even if it meant battling Doomfist and Talon a hundred times over.

  “I meant what I said. You’re a hero, Efi. And so is Orisa,” Lúcio continued. He took a deep breath, then looked around the plaza as the authorities finally arrived, dressed heavily in armor, but the threats had already been neutralized. They started arresting the fallen Talon agents, including Bisi. Efi cringed as she watched Dayo turn his own brother in. She couldn’t imagine how awful Dayo felt but hoped that both the brothers found some closure.

  “This world needs heroes like you. Can I count on you to help me out from time to time?” Lúcio said, his voice lowered.

  Efi smiled, and though the path ahead of her was unknown and intimidating, a new resolve filled her voice. She would fight for Numbani, and for the world, with every scrap of strength she had. “I will help however I can.”

  Efi sat in class, attention fully focused on her calculus teacher. She even had her tablet set to “Do Not Disturb” so she wouldn’t be tempted to reach out to her friends. They’d have to wait to talk to her until after school was out. Efi had realized that she could do it all: be a great student, a great friend, a great inventor … but she couldn’t do it all at once.

  So while she was at school, she concentrated on school. And back in her workshop, she’d built a couple of robots to help her fill all the orders for the Junies. From time to time, she’d have to spend her evenings there, but for the most part, her workshop didn’t cut so much into her time hanging with Naade and Hassana. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

  “Efi,” Ms. Okorie said. “Would you like to solve the problem?”

  “Yes, ma,” Efi said, and walked up to the front of the class. She couldn’t shake the strange feeling on the nape of her neck. She looked back, and the entire class was staring intently at her, their starry eyes watching like they expected her to pull a robot out of her sleeve at any moment.

 
“I’m just a normal kid,” Efi said. A normal kid genius with a flourishing robotics workshop, a refurbished OR15 for a best friend, and superstar Lúcio Correia dos Santos on her speed dial. “You don’t have to stare so hard. Or clap whenever I walk into the room. Please?”

  A knock came at the door. Before Ms. Okorie could respond, the doorknob twitched, then broke off. Then the door itself flew off its hinges and landed with a loud clatter in front of the classroom. The students all bit back their screams.

  “Apologies,” Orisa said, wedging her frame through the too-narrow doorway, then, when she was inside, giving the class a little wave with her fingertips. “Efi,” she said, now serious. “You haven’t responded to my alert.”

  Efi grimaced at the mess her robot had made and tried not to think about how many months of her allowance it would take to repair it. "Sorry, my tablet notifications are off. Can it wait twenty minutes?”

  “I’m afraid not,” she whispered to Efi. “There are people in trouble, and they need our help.”

  Efi suddenly felt the weight of being a hero on her shoulders. It was a weight she was more than ready to bear. Orisa, on the other hand … “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Efi asked.

  “All systems functional. Fusion driver upgrade installed and tested. Current combat simulations indicate high probability of victory.”

  “Fusion driver?” Efi said, noticing that Orisa’s hard-light caster had been replaced with a bulky weapon that definitely looked like it could toss out more than wet, balled-up socks. “Where’d you—”

  “We must hurry. She is awaiting our arrival.”

  “She? Who’s she?”

  Orisa looked around at the students. Every single eye was focused on her. “I can’t say right now. But with luck, our trip will be a short one. A quick sojourn abroad, and then right back to Numbani so your studies aren’t interrupted. I will explain further once we are airborne.”