Guilt in Innocece

by Keith R. A. DeCandido

  "That sentence ends at 'no, sir,' Cavalryman, unless you want to be scrubbing the hull for the next month."

  "Yes, sir," he said quickly.

  "Cavalry Chief Adejola, ETA to Oshun?"

  "Seven hours, sir."

  Then, for the first time, Tobi acknowledged Folami's presence. "What're you doing up here, Ori-Inu?"

  "Admiring the view," Folami said simply.

  Misconstruing, Tobi was suddenly self-conscious of his state of undress. Rising to his feet, he said, "Cavalry Chief Adejola, you have the deck."

  "I acknowledge command of the deck, sir," Adejola said formally, which was more for the benefit of the flight recorder than the war chief.

  Even before L'owuro made orbit of Oshun, Folami had felt the strange images and unknowable instincts of the Eso in her mind. The tac officer reported that the gas from the refinery explosion was dispersing, but he was unable to identify what the gas was. Given that L'owuro, like all military ships, had an extensive catalogue of every gas known to humanity—mainly so that the personnel on board knew how to defend themselves against it—this was unusual.

  Tobi summoned Rufiji Company to the dropship bay. The cavalry all came in, not quite at double-time—that wasn't really possible in the bulky armor—but they lumbered in single-file through the metal corridors of L'owuro, dozens of armored boots clanging on the deck to create a cacophony that only multiple missions had inured Folami to. The deafening report of metal on metal was just background noise to her now, though when she first started performing missions for the Hegemony, the sound had threatened to drive her mad.

  In the bay itself, dozens of dropships were lined up to be disgorged through the L'owuro's belly and into Oshun's atmosphere. Each drop held eight armored personnel, and Tobi watched as each one was filled and deployed. For whatever reason, Tobi always preferred to go down on the final ship, leaving Rufiji's direct commander, Cavalry Master Fasina, to take the first drop down.

  As usual, Folami joined Tobi in the final drop to disembark. Other cavalry commanders had wanted the Ori-Inu to be on the first drop, but Tobi felt it was best to, as he put it, "save the best for last." Folami had never understood this philosophy, but it was important enough to Tobi—and she was sufficiently uninterested in engaging him in an argument on the subject—that she simply went along with it.

  Also as usual, Tobi didn't say a word to her, indeed barely acknowledged her existence, for the entire drop.

  As the dropship plummeted through Oshun's atmosphere, rocking back and forth in the turbulence of air currents, Folami tuned out her immediate surroundings and focused her mind on the surface below.

  She felt very few human minds anywhere near the Eso, beyond those of Rufiji Company. This relieved Folami, as it meant that local authorities had evacuated the population of Kaduna Township after the explosion. With luck, this would mean there would be a comparatively small body count when the dropships hit dirt. Eso attacks were almost always accompanied by appalling civilian casualties.

  The final drop landed with a soft thud, thrusters decelerating the drop enough to make for a smooth landing on the muddy ground.

  Even as Folami prepared to disembark, she sensed Cavalry Master Fasina stuffing a grenade down a rebel's throat—and then a moment later, the cavalry master's agonized pain as the chitin of the exploding Eso tore through his armor, rending his left arm from its shoulder.

  Exiting the drop, she saw that a group of nearby rebels were wounded enough by their exploding comrade that they were vulnerable to Ayoka fire from Cavalry Master Morayo and a dozen of her troops.

  The place they had landed was a park located next to the refinery that had exploded. Northwest of their location was a giant maze of twisted metal, still smoking from the explosion that had started this whole thing. Right in front of her, dozens of Eso swarmed about the mud and grass and scorched earth, like maggots crawling over a giant, pockmarked corpse.

  From there, the battle was joined, with Folami doing her part, killing several Eso, albeit at the cost of damage to her face mask.

  Folami felt as if a spike were being driven through her left eye from her repeated psionic exertions. Even she, at the tenth level, had her limits, and with this mission so soon after dealing with those terrorists on Orunmila, she wasn't sure how much more she could handle.

  But handle it, she would. This was what she was trained for.

  They had been on Orunmila for a week, taking care of those separatists in their fortified base. Unlike the Eso, who wanted to bring back the glory days of the Oyo Empire, these were religious fanatics who just wanted to be out of the Hegemony. It hadn't been a particularly difficult assignment, but it was a long one, and normally after so grueling a mission, Folami would have been allocated some time to rest.

  I haven't been this tired since Nupe.

  The thought made her look quickly around. Her first instinct was that she'd accidentally read someone else's mind, which sometimes happened when she was fatigued. The only place named Nupe she knew of was on Yemoja before it was destroyed. As far as she remembered, she'd never been there.

  But no, the thought was her own.

  Before she could try to examine this, she saw ten Eso converging on three cavalry who were standing back-to-back-to-back in a circle near the remains of a running path. Surrounded by Eso and unable to move, the trio kept throwing Ayoka rounds that ricocheted off the rebels.

  The Eso's greatest vulnerability was the same one that most living creatures had: their eyes. Unfortunately, they were almost impossible to hit in general, and the Oyo rebels had bred the Eso with eyes that were small and covered on both sides by folds of chitinous flesh.

  The only way to hit them was to be the system's most perfect shot.

  With her telekinesis, Folami was just that.

  She fired twenty shots at the eyes of the ten Eso.

  The headache was making her ears ring now. She couldn't even make out what it was one of the cavalry was saying to her. No way I can do that trick again.

  Including War Chief Tobi, Rufiji Company had fifty-nine people assigned to it, and now thirty-four of them were dead. By the time Folami could mindblast each of the fifty-plus Eso left, Rufiji would be wiped out, and Folami herself might not make it that far alive.

  Calling down a strike from L'owuro wasn't an option, as this was a populated area, they hadn't found the Orisha who sent the distress call yet, and all the evidence of the explosion and the strange gas would be lost, so no one would ever know what happened here. Her duty to the Hegemony was to make sure that this could be investigated properly.

  So the orbital strike was only a final option, and she wasn't there yet. According to what the flight deck had said before the drops were launched, reinforcements wouldn't arrive for another day.

  Maybe I can fry all their brains at once, like I did those people in Nupe.

  Again, Folami startled herself. That thought also came out of nowhere, and was most definitely her own, not someone else's. What is going on?

  That thought was cut short by the realization that an Eso claw was coming down toward her head. She dove to the ground, then shot her Bayo at the mud the rebel was running through, which came nowhere near the Eso.

  Get it together, she chastised herself, as she re-aimed, the rounds this time crashing into the Eso's hard shell.

  That got him to turn toward her. Folami gazed into his eyes and then fried his brain.

  For whatever reason, though, she knew—just knew—that once, in the past, she had fried the brains of two dozen people at once. As a tenth-level, that was completely possible, but it wasn't anything she'd even considered trying, nor even been in a position to try.

  But the Eso were wearing Rufiji down. She had to make the attempt.

  She broadcast her thoughts: War Chief Tobi, clear out. I can stop the rest of the Eso, but I can't do it with Rufiji Company underfoot. Get to the drops and get back to L'owuro.

  Tobi's voice sounded in Folami's earpiece, a me
thod of communication far less secure. "Back to the drops? We can't—"

  War Chief, if you don't do this, the rest of Rufiji will die. Sound the retreat!

  Reluctantly, Tobi gave the order. Four cavalry lay down covering fire while the rest of the survivors of Rufiji retreated to the dropships.

  Only one tree was still standing in the park, a thick, gnarled oak. Folami ran toward it after the drops took off, shooting her Bayo indiscriminately behind her to keep the Eso still chasing her at a distance. Nimbly, she climbed up as high as she could, the high ground giving her precious moments to collect herself. The rebels would be able to climb up after her, but soon, that wouldn't be an issue.

  Because either her plan would work, or she'd be dead.

  She took three deep breaths through her nose, exhaling through her mouth.

  Two Eso started clambering up the twisted trunk of the oak, heading right for her.

  She let out the most primal of screams.

  "She's waking up!"

  Folami blinked the bright spots out of her eyes at the voice of the Rufiji medic, Doctor Modupe. Sitting upright quickly proved to be a mistake, as the universe spun around in ever-faster circles. She had an odd feeling on her upper lip, and put a gloved hand there.

  Dried blood chipped off.

  Lying slowly back down, she realized that she was on the ground under the oak tree. Modupe was kneeling over her, checking his diagnostic scanner.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  Modupe scratched his stubbly chin. The young doctor had neglected to shave in an attempt to make himself look older. He looked like he had a ravaged forest on his baby face. "You tell us. The war chief came back to L'owuro, and the flight deck reported that the Eso were all dead. He came back, dragged my ass away from my patients to come down with him, only to find you unconscious and a whole lotta dead rebels."

  "Will she live?" That was Tobi, who had approached.

  "Probably. Can I get back to L'owuro now? I've got a dozen wounded up there, and—"

  "Permission granted," Tobi said, and Folami could feel his irritation at the doctor's whining.

  Reaching into a case, Modupe took out a small plastic bottle and offered it to Folami. "Here—take these for the pain." Then he got to his feet and wandered off.

  Tobi glared down at her through his beard. "Neat trick you pulled, Ori-Inu. Didn't think even you could wipe that many in one shot."

  She sat up more slowly this time. "I didn't, either. And I'm in no rush to do it again."

  "You shouldn't have to. Oh, and we found who summoned us here."

  Clambering gingerly to her feet, Folami followed Tobi, who led her to the dropship, which had a medical pallet being loaded onto it. The occupant wore the loose-fitting white robes of an Orisha. His round face was scarred by burns.

  "His ID says his name is—" Tobi started, but Folami interrupted.

  "Hembadoon."

  Tobi scowled at her. "Yeah, well, we didn't have you around to read him, but—"

  But Folami interrupted him a second time. "You don't understand, War Chief—I can barely read surface thoughts in the shape I'm in, and right now, this man's too far gone to have surface thoughts. No, I know him."

  "From where?"

  She shook her head. "I have no idea."

  TWO

  Ife—four days ago

  Hembadoon loved meeting with Oba Isembi. Not because he had any great love for the man. Quite the opposite, in fact, and Hembadoon knew the feeling was mutual. Isembi viewed Hembadoon with contempt and disdain. One of the advantages Isembi had, being Oba of the Hegemony, supreme ruler of all the worlds in the system, destroyer of Yemoja, was that if he didn't like someone, he simply could get rid of them.

  But the disadvantage was that he would have to accept the consequences.

  The day Hembadoon lived in fear of was the day that Isembi or one of his minions found an Orisha who could do the job as well as Hembadoon. He knew that day was coming. It was inevitable—there was simply no way that he could be the best forever.

  However, Hembadoon had every intention of delaying that day as long as possible by continuing to seek out and train the finest Ori-Inu he could. As long as he did so, Isembi could do nothing to Hembadoon.

  The room where they had their meeting was in Isembi's imperial palace in Benin, the capital city on Ife, the homeworld. The three-story structure was circular, as was proper, with Isembi's throne room on the ground floor, where he would meet publicly with applicants. On the upper floor was his bedchamber, where he would rest after each day's work as the leader of the greatest empire the universe had ever known.

  On the middle floor was the private meeting room where most of the Hegemony's business truly got done. The walls appeared to be made of adobe, but Hembadoon knew that was an illusion to put people at ease that they were in as ordinary a place as a palace could be. In truth, the walls were reinforced to withstand an orbital bombardment. A tapestry hung on one section of the wall, a crescent-shaped wooden table against another section, and a burning fire in the center that made the entire room smell like smoked cedar. That last was a silly extravagance, even in a building filled with them, as it was midsummer in Benin, and the room was perfectly temperature controlled in any case.

  But it made the room look and smell elegant. For Isembi, appearances were of tremendous importance.

  Isembi was standing at a sideboard near the desk while chatting with a holographic image projected over the firepit. He wore the traditional red robes of an Oba going back as far as anyone could remember. His wild white hair was restrained by a ponytail, and his beard remained thick. Hembadoon knew that many men of the Hegemony had styled their hair or worn beards in that style—or both—out of respect for the Oba.

  Which was why Hembadoon kept his own head and cheeks shaved clean.

  Though they were the same height, Hembadoon always felt shorter than Isembi. The Oba carried himself as if he were the tallest person in the room. He practically oozed charisma. Which, Hembadoon often thought wryly, is the only reason why this snake in the grass has become Oba.

  Isembi was holding a thick-bottomed glass with a clear liquid. He was speaking to the holographic image, which was of a face covered in what looked like orange fur. Hembadoon knew that this was one of the Hegemony's trading partners from beyond the system, though he couldn't recall what the people were called. He rarely concerned himself with external matters.

  "Would you mind explaining where your shipment is, Horrr?" Isembi asked testily.

  "Sorry I am, Oba," Horrr said, "but gone is the shipment. Hit we were by the Dread Remora—"

  Holding up a hand, Isembi said, "I don't wish to hear excuses, Horrr, I wish to receive the merchandise I paid for."

  "Get it you will. Restock on Frrren's Landing we shall and come back we will within two weeks—return on the first Ishegun of Erele."

  Hembadoon was impressed that this Horrr person had gone to the trouble of learning the Hegemony calendar. Then again, one thing the Orisha did know was that this system was plentiful in metals that were of great value outside the Hegemony, so it behooved Horrr as a regular trader to be familiar.

  "The shipment will be half again as large, yes?"

  Horrr winced. "Not the terms to which we—"

  "We agreed that the shipment would already be here, and you've already received our iron and platinum. I believe the delay of two weeks justifies a fifty percent increase in the value of our goods, yes? If not, I am perfectly happy to find someone else to take our—"

  Speaking quickly, Horrr said, "Necessary that will not be, Oba. As you say is as it will."

  "Excellent." Isembi provided an insincere smile, then touched a control on one of his many earrings. The holographic image winked out.

  Turning to the Orisha, Isembi's smile remained unchanged. "Welcome back, Hembadoon."

  Pointing at the firepit, Hembadoon asked, "Don't you have people to handle such mundane matters?"

  "When they go s
moothly, yes. However, Horrr was being difficult and I felt the need to step in. Especially since I doubt he was truly raided by pirates, he probably simply found another buyer." He shook his head. "If I believed every story I've heard about the so-called Dread Remora, the ship would have to be in twelve places simultaneously—and I honestly don't believe that the vessel truly exists." Letting out a breath, he held up his glass. "May I offer you a drink? It's from Esu."

  "Really?" Hembadoon moved to sit at the guest chair next to the desk. His feet hurt after standing completely still through six different security checkpoints before being allowed to set foot in the palace. At that, he was fortunate—were he not an Orisha, he would have had to go through fifteen. "I was unaware that there were any drinks from Esu." The once-frozen world on the outskirts of the system had only a small, fledgling colony that was slowly performing terraforming tasks. The long-term goal was to make the place as habitable as Ife, but in the short term, life was very hard on the still-mostly-frozen planet.

  As Isembi poured the liquid into another glass, he said, "So few things grow in the ground on Esu. But an enterprising young couple thought they would be able to produce alcohol. This is from their first bottle of what they claim to be gin, which they generously gave to me as a gift. We're hoping they'll be able to do business similar to the distilleries on Oshun and Oya."

  Hembadoon took the glass from Isembi, who then sat down at the desk, perpendicular to where the Orisha had sat down. The drink had a sharp odor, cutting through his nostrils and wiping out the cedary smell of the fire. Taking a small sip, Hembadoon felt the alcohol burn in his throat so fiercely that it masked whatever taste the gin might have had. A good drink created a warm glow in the base of the neck, but this was not a good drink. After letting out a gasp, Hembadoon said, "I hope you aren't relying upon this elixir to spur Esu's economy."

  Isembi smiled. "Hardly. And this is the first bottle. It is part of our long-term plan to accelerate Esu's schedule."

  Hembadoon nodded, setting the glass down with a clunk on the wooden table.