The Hangman's Replacement: Sprout of Disruption (BOOK 1)

by Taona Dumisani Chiveneko

  After a crisis meeting with Mr. Mpeto and a few trusted staff members, Mr. Gweta asked everyone to leave the office. He needed time to prepare for the most difficult phone call of his career.

  The ice cold water had worked its magic, but Mr. Gweta did not feel magical. His right hand would not stop shaking. He calmed it by gripping the handset of his blue telephone. He only used this line to make sensitive calls. Mr. Gweta dialled the number and waited. As the phone rang at the other end, he wondered which was more frightening: Luxon Hurudza’s rejection of the assignment, or the reaction of the man who had commissioned the work.

  “Hello, Gweta?”

  “Chief. An elephant just walked into our house and defecated. We are knee-deep in it.”

  “Wait,” replied the voice. Mr. Gweta heard the speaker shuffling to a discreet location.

  “Describe the dung.”

  “Luxon sent it. He returned the assignment. Undone.”

  Silence.

  Mr. Gweta waited for his client to digest the news.

  “Go on.”

  “A few years ago, Professor Khupe reached Luxon’s phone line by mistake. We don’t know how he got the number, but Luxon was livid. After that we cut off all access to his phone line. Only three people in the office can reach him directly.”

  “Until today?”

  “Yes. Earlier this evening, Mpeto, Ketiwe, and I were meeting in my office. The three of us are the only ones who can call Luxon’s line. Therefore, we were stunned when we heard his phone ringing. The ring tone had a higher pitch than the one we are familiar with.

  “The walls between Luxon’s office and my own are quite thick, so we could not hear anything. After a few minutes, our curiosity got the better of us. We left my office and crept over to his door. Fortunately, the floor is carpeted so he could not have heard us approaching. We pressed our ears against the door. There was no danger of him opening it and finding us there. As you know, Luxon never leaves his office.

  “Another five minutes passed without a word. He was not saying anything, but we knew he was still on the phone. After he hung up, a few more minutes passed before we heard the muffled sounds of footsteps inside. They were heading towards us. We did not panic when we heard the click of a key turning in the lock. Luxon has two sequential doors leading into his office. The inner door is exactly a metre behind the outer door. We call the space in between the ‘Chapel of Compromise’. Luxon uses the space to receive and send out packages that are too large to fit through the slot in the inner door. It is the only neutral space that he can share with anyone, but never at the same time, of course.

  “Luxon pushes urgent assignments out into the hallway through the slot in the outer door. In all other cases, he leaves the documents in the Chapel where Ketiwe can enter and pick them up. Only Luxon has the key to the inner door. As we huddled on the other side of his outer door this evening, we heard him stepping into the Chapel. We were shocked to hear his breath echoing so loudly in such a compact space. It was heavy and moist. We all froze. Only then did it occur to us that Luxon actually respires. The breathing quickly faded to silence. What was he doing? Did he know we were listening?

  “We were unprepared for what we heard next. We heard his voice. It actually had a human temperament that sounded—”

  “What did he say?”

  “He whispered, ‘This is overwhelming.’ We all thought that our ears had deceived us. We only accepted the reality when our glances met and confirmed the words we had just heard. Something, or someone, had overwhelmed Luxon Hurudza.

  “After further silence, we heard the shuffling of paper. Luxon stepped closer to the outer door, lifted the flap, and pushed out the brown envelope. We left it on the floor and tiptoed away. Ketiwe returned to pick it up five minutes later. This time, she walked in her regular manner to give the impression that she was checking on the work for the first time. She brought the envelope to my office. It is now on the desk in front of me. Luxon drew a red line across his name. Chief, I am sorry to tell you that he has refused your assignment. He wants nothing to do with your flame lily.”

  The client said nothing for a while. To Mr. Gweta’s surprise, his response did not have the homicidal cadence that fit the occasion.

  “But we got him his Book of Nations. You told me that the book would make him our legal mercenary for the rest of his life.”

  “I know, Chief. I am sorry. This shocked us, too. We considered trying to convince him otherwise, but there was no point. Luxon responds to persuasion like a bull responds to a kick in the balls.”

  “But he seems to have been persuaded by someone who would go further than just kicking them.”

  “I was trying to avoid that thought, but I think you may be right, Chief.”

  “What about the Book of Nations? Surely that must count for something?”

  “Not any more. Shortly after he returned the envelope, Luxon called Ketiwe to his office. He gave her the book. The seal remains intact. He told her to return it to you. He wants nothing more to do with it.”

  “But he has been chasing that book for more than thirty years. We spent a king’s ransom tracking it down across five continents. Does he know how many heads were divorced from their shoulders so he could get his book? All those accountants, monks, policemen, and bureaucrats? ... Oh, and the lawyers ... Remember the lawyers ...”

  Mr. Gweta cringed at the thought of what may have happened to the lawyers who had been implicated in the search for the book. His client was not done.

  “Does Luxon appreciate how many knife wounds it took to pry that book from the grasps of brutal and godless men? And the taxidermist? Oh, the taxidermist ... And after all that neural inconvenience ... And after all that productive mortality, Luxon no longer wants his book?”

  Mr. Gweta had to distract his client from any thoughts of injuring lawyers.

  “Well, Chief, whoever called Luxon is the real culprit. Maybe we should focus on tracking him down? You have access to world-class resources for such purposes?”

  The suggestion was not met with enthusiasm. The client wanted to know something else.

  “Do you think Luxon knew the caller personally?”

  “Of the few people Luxon knows, I cannot say he knows anyone personally. Mpeto and I are the obvious exceptions of course. Even then, building our friendship was harder than mating pandas.”

  “But he has a computer and access to the internet, no? Maybe he found a cerebral playmate? Someone with whom he can engage in intellectual gunfights without the horror of meeting in person?”

  “I doubt it, Chief. I am sure Luxon uses the internet for solitary activities such as researching religious mythology. I doubt that he would bother to seek out any form of companionship.”

  “Don’t be too sure, Gweta. There is someone for everyone on the internet. I am sure there are ghouls who would love a playmate like Luxon Hurudza. And vice versa.”

  “Anything is possible, Chief. What we do know is that he was shaken by that phone call. When Ketiwe went to see him, he spoke with his back turned to her. Still, she could tell that his shoulders were suffering under the weight of a burden he could not share. All he said to her was ‘The Book. Return it.’ I have never seen him in such a state. I never thought I would live to say these words, but the mystery caller frightened him.”

  The client sighed.

  “I also have many things I thought I would never live to hear. Recently, I have been hearing such things with an alarming frequency.”

  Mr. Gweta opened his mouth and quickly shut it again.

  “What else?” asked the client.

  “Luxon has also refused to work on the case of the Remote Control Killer. He returned the assignment in the same envelope with the patent documents for the flame lily. We sent the assignment back to the Prosecutor’s Office an hour ago. They will have to fight this one alone.”

  The client exhaled a gust of air into the mouthpiece. Mr. Gweta waited patiently.

  “And?�
�� asked the client.

  “Luxon included a note in the package.”

  “What did it say?”

  “It said, ‘I will not work on the Remote Control Killer case.’”

  “That was all?”

  “Yes,” replied Mr. Gweta.

  “So Luxon has disappointed us twice in the same day,” whispered the client.

  Mr. Gweta bit his lip. He had to choose his words carefully. Dealing with such clients required sharp instincts. Sometimes, silence was necessary for avoiding pointless provocations. However, this was not an occasion to remain silent.

  “Well, Luxon pasted the note on the patent documents.”

  “So what?”

  “Well, I think he believes that the flame lily patents and the Remote Control Killer case are two sides of the same coin. If Luxon were to speak for himself – which I am sure he won’t – he would say that he flipped that coin many times and realized that the Remote Control Killer’s ‘heads’ only lead to the flame lily’s ‘tails’. Such a currency always lands trouble-side up. I believe that the anonymous caller convinced Luxon of this. I think we should leave Luxon alone. I do not think he had any other choice but to disappoint you. This admission of defeat has already been traumatic for him.”

  Mr. Gweta held his breath. The client did not protest the unsolicited advice.

  “Gweta, I want you to focus on the following assignments. First, do everything you can to use the patent system to prevent the spread of this demonic vine. Make sure you cover all possible varieties of the plant. Draft the patent documents yourself.”

  “Of course, Chief. I plan to file applications to protect that plant in every African country. Shortly afterwards, I will submit a parallel set of applications challenging the very patents we are applying for. Of course, I will use other lawyers in each country since we cannot openly undermine our own applications.”

  “Why would we want to oppose our own filings, Gweta?”

  “The strategy will double our chances of success.”

  “Explain.”

  “You are already familiar with the first method. A successful patent will give us the right to stop anyone from dealing in this plant. However, each country has its own patent laws. Each one emphasizes different elements when evaluating applications. This means that our patent will likely be rejected in at least some of those countries. However, all nations ban the patenting of harmful technologies. Such bans usually cover inventions that threaten morality or public order. For example, if someone came up with an ingenious tonic that only killed people with knobby knees, such a breakthrough would likely be banned in most countries.”

  “Yes. Most. But I still don’t get it, Gweta.”

  “I am getting to the point, Chief. Sometimes, an effective explanation requires extended foreplay with underlying elements.”

  “I only know sex, not foreplay. Let’s get this idea naked right now.”

  “Of course, Chief. Now, it is a contradictory act to file for a patent while opposing those same applications on public policy grounds. However, the outcomes of both strategies are consistent with our objectives. If one method fails in a given country, the other method may succeed in preventing the spread of these plants. A country either bans any dealing in the plant by anyone, or it grants us the right to prevent others from using it. Both outcomes prevent the spread of the vine. Thus, the approaches achieve the same desired result, but in different ways. They will stifle the spread of our flame lily. The patent system is a potent herbicide for such cases.”

  “I don’t care about the legal mechanics, Gweta, but I like what I am hearing. This public policy tactic makes a lot of sense. After all, what type of societies would tolerate a plant that likes to eat people?”

  “No dignified society would allow such an abomination, Chief.”

  “Your words fill me with a religious elation. Your patent strategy may not kill this demon sprout, but it will certainly help to slow the epidemic while we work on other strategies.”

  “Of course, Chief.”

  “Second thing. I want you to make sure that everything goes smoothly with our contract for the gallows.”

  “That is under control. The gallows made it past Her Majesty’s customs and were assembled at Mazambuko. I have been assured that they are under heavy guard. The Carpenter will soon be arriving to complete the preparations.”

  “That’s one island of good news in our sea of excrement, Gweta. Thirdly, I want you to file a challenge against the law that allows the expedited appointment of new judges. Magistrate Changamire has not expressed interest in the High Court position, but we cannot be complacent. As we speak, the winds of fortune are turning in his favour. If he declares his interest, his chances would be more than even.”

  “Of course, Chief. Our legal challenge would freeze the appointment process until the Supreme Court resolved the matter.”

  Mr. Gweta was feeling more uplifted. Working on legal matters gave him a sense of order and control that was sorely missing in the world of carnivorous plants.

  “To the fourth assignment. I want you to take over the negotiations with the Mozambicans. We believe they are still hiding Professor Khupe’s aunt. At the very least, they know she is in their country. They are simply not motivated to cooperate.”

  “That worries me, Chief. They have no stake in this mess, and yet they resist?”

  “They don’t have a direct stake, but someone who does is putting pressure on them not to play with us. I am sure you know who that is. But if we succeed in recruiting Professor Khupe’s aunt, we will have a fighting chance against this flower and its master. If the reports are true, she has the only mind that could match our adversary. I was also told she is so unfriendly that she makes Luxon seem like a playful puppy. Anyway, we will deal with her foul personality when the time comes. For now, we must convince the Mozambicans to cooperate with our efforts to woo her. Be discreet. Our enemy has eyes and ears everywhere.”

  “I will do my best.”

  “Your final task also involves diplomacy. I need you to contact the ambassador of the Central African Republic. His government deserves to know there will be bounty hunters entering their territory. We will also need their help to find our target.”

  “Who are the bounty hunters looking for?”

  “The hangman’s reflection. I got to know the man during the liberation war. He was charming, humorous and charismatic. He was one of those leaders that any soldier would follow beyond the gates of hell. Many did. That man made me shudder. He was there when this whole mess began. He must be there at the last hanging. He must.”

  The client’s breath was now laboured. He sounded just like Luxon Hurudza had earlier that evening. The same invisible elephant had lowered itself on his chest. Mr. Gweta was starting to feel the strain on his own lungs. But the elephant was not even seated. It was merely crouching. When it finally decided to lower its entire weight, the collective strength of a thousand men’s rib cages would not survive the force.

  “Have you ever seen a human brain, Gweta?”

  “No, I have not, Chief. I only saw a pig’s brain, once.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “In university. I had a friend in the life sciences program. He stole it from the lab and brought it back to the dorm. The brain was in a jar filled with formaldehyde. One night, he pried the jar open and left it under another student’s bed. The stench was unimaginable. The boy who lived in the room was forced to move out for two weeks until the smell died down. Apart from that, the brain itself looked quite unremarkable.”

  “The human brain is also unremarkable, Gweta. But some of them are capable of conjuring manifestations that are quite the opposite. Disturbing manifestations. Such minds reek with a fury that humbles the pig brain in your friend’s prank.”

  “I can only imagine, Chief.”

  “No. You need not imagine. You just witnessed one of those manifestations on that brown envelope today. You will never fully understand what it
means, but at least you now know that there is a stench that is more powerful than the Devil’s sulphur.”

  The client shifted in his seat.

  “You know, Gweta? I cannot guarantee how it will all end. However, I have one wish.”

  “What is that, Chief?”

  “I wish that I will get the chance to yank a particular brain out of a particular skull. I too would pickle it in a jar. Then I would go to the bookstore and buy books about brains. Books that will help me figure out which part of that slimy organ inspires unnecessary belligerence. I would take a sheet of sandpaper and rub that spot until it was as smooth as the flesh of a boiled egg. Then, I would fill a bag with nature’s most potent agent for dissolving animal tissue: python pepsin. I would install a drip designed to release a single drop of the stomach fluid onto that cursed brain each day. In my leisure time, I would pull up a chair and watch the juices burn a hole into that spot of undue mischief ...”

  Mr. Gweta sat perfectly still. The lawyer had become the unwilling priest who had stumbled on the one confession that would forever poison his faith in humanity.

  “When the hole breaks through to the other side, I would plant a flower in it, an African violet that would eventually wilt like its human vase because it was never meant to eat people. Each morning, I would stroke that brain and chuckle to myself. Do you know what I would whisper each time?”

  “What, Chief?”

  “I would say, ‘God himself spent billions of years teaching plants to submit to animals. What made you think you were so special to proclaim otherwise?’”

  The client was silent once more. Mr. Gweta knew this was an invitation to participate in the hateful fantasy. Neutrality would amount to betrayal.

  “I don’t know what I would whisper to such a vile brain, Chief. But I am sure I would not express myself with as much eloquence.”

  “Thank you, Gweta, but eloquence is merely the product of intelligence. History is not shaped by men of genius. It is shaped by men of unwavering will. Men who focus whatever brains they have on the savvy application of power. In the end, brawn will always do the heavy lifting. Brawn will always win the war.”