Of all his stepchildren, Joel was Sir Gregory’s favourite. He was a bright boy and always did as he was told. Sir Gregory was really the only father Joel had ever known, his biological father having left while he was still quite young. Joel reminded Sir Gregory of his late wife, which only made the boy more endearing.
Sir Gregory was interrupted by Father Fletcher, who greeted him in Chichewa. “Good morning, Sir Gregory! How are you today?”
Sir Gregory replied to the greeting also in vernacular, letting out a low chuckle as he did so. The way his mzungu friend spoke the local language always amused him. “Remember our meeting with the school committee today, Father.”
“I will be there, Sir Gregory. But right now I must hurry to the river. I am baptising new converts. May the good Lord keep you well.”
Sir Gregory grunted a response. Father Fletcher knew very well that he did not believe in God. He watched the man of the cloth get onto his hovercycle, a contraption he disliked. He hated modern technology. It was one of the reasons he was happy to be on this side of the planet; Malawi had not advanced technologically to a great extent. After the hovercycle was out of earshot he noticed a faint buzzing coming from inside the house. Sir Gregory hurried to his room, hoping it wasn’t what he thought, but it was.
The signal had finally come. It was time.
State House, Lilongwe city
“Mr. President, when I spoke with your ambassador here, we agreed to be completely honest with each other. Your government was supposed to share all the information you have. But it seems you have not adhered to our agreement,” said President Moto.
“I am sorry, Mr. President, but I don’t follow,” replied President Wayne Barry. “To the best of my knowledge, all information has been shared with your military by our agents.”
“Then maybe you can explain to me why your agents said nothing about the fourth astronaut,” Moto said, impatiently.
President Barry’s tone was firm. “I assure you, Mr. President, that the American government had no prior knowledge of this fourth astronaut. I was just as surprised as you are when my secretary of defence told me a few minutes ago.”
“Then someone is not telling you the whole truth, sir. A Caucasian male was on board that ship. He tied up, branded and killed your three astronauts, and was then himself killed by my soldiers as he tried to commandeer one of our naval boats. I lost three soldiers in the process, Mr. President. Someone over there must know something.”
“And I will keep you informed when we know more, President Moto. But I am afraid we are also in the dark right now. You say this man branded our astronauts?”
“Yes, he did,” replied President Moto. “They all had the roman numeral eight on their bodies.”
President Barry was silent for a few minutes after getting off the phone with the Malawian president. He had not lied. He really did not know anything. But his counterpart was right. Someone had to know what was going on. He looked around the room, at his chief of staff, secretary of defence, all the generals and senior government staff. “Okay. Somebody start talking.”
Chileka, Blantyre district
Sir Gregory was not really his name, at least, not the ‘sir’ part. Gregory Tembo was a teacher whose pupils’ term of endearment had spread to their guardians as well on account of them hearing it all the time. He had settled in Chileka about twenty years before and married Milcah, his stepchildren’s mother, ten years later. Milcah’s husband left her when Joel was two, Mavuto five, and Nina—who had now grown into a smart young lady—eleven.
Nobody in the village asked where he came from anymore. He was one of them now and happy here. But now, all that was in danger and he had to act fast. He had to protect his family.
Blantyre city, Blantyre district
“Hello?”
“Nina? It’s dad. Did I wake you?”
“It is eleven o’clock at night, Dad. Of course you woke me up,” Nina sleepily replied. “What’s wrong?”
“I need you to come home tomorrow, Nina. It’s urgent,” Sir Gregory said calmly.
“Tomorrow? Dad, what’s wrong? Are Joel and Mavuto okay?”
“They’re fine, Nina. Mavuto will also be here tomorrow. Just come. Please.”
“Alright, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thank you. Goodnight.”
Nina lay wide awake for a while, half-listening to the man breathing heavily beside her, deep in sleep. Her father never called, let alone asking her to visit. She had moved permanently to the city after graduating from college and getting a job. That was almost a year ago. Her father had only visited twice. But never in her life had he summoned her like this. She looked at the muscular, temporarily limp body beside her and sighed. She would tell him about the call in the morning.
3
State House, Lilongwe city
“So what you’re telling me,” President Moto finally spoke, “is that Barry and his colleagues at the White House really know as much about this as we do? He was not lying?”
“It would seem so, sir,” replied Principal Secretary Maloto. “They do not know what made the spaceship alter its course and they do not know who the fourth person is.”
The president’s impassive look hid his true feelings. There had to be more to this, he was sure of it. He looked around the room. Military personnel and a few cabinet ministers were there that evening, none of whom seemed to know more than he did at the moment.
“And the Roman numeral on the bodies? Why were the three bodies branded with the number eight? Do we at least know that?”
“I am afraid that is also a mystery, sir,” spoke up General Manda, commander of the defence force. “But, I have Colonel Banda here who was commanding officer on site. He may shed more light on the situation.” He gestured to Colonel Banda. “Colonel.”
Colonel Banda was about to speak when one of the state house staff interrupted with an urgent message for Principal Secretary Maloto. He read it before finally looking at the president, almost as if he was too terrified to speak to the man.
“Mr. President, this message is from the military infirmary, where the bodies were being kept. The fourth one escaped.”
“What! What do you mean, escaped?” President Moto rose out of his chair. “You told me the man was dead!”
“I am as baffled as you are, sir. And that is not all. He killed eight people in the process. All of them patients, all of them branded sir.”
The president sank back in his chair. “What in the bloody hell is going on? I want that man found and I want him found immediately! I do not care if he is found alive or dead. And, if he is dead, make sure this time!”
Everyone stood up to leave at almost the same time. They knew the president’s words were as good as a dismissal.
At that point, another message came, this time for the inspector general of the police service. “I am afraid I have more bad news, Mr. President.”
Blantyre city, Blantyre district
Nina stepped out of the shower the next morning to find her man sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only his boxer shorts. She found herself staring dreamily at his bare, muscular chest, before he brought her back from her carnal thoughts.
“Work just called. I have to get back to Lilongwe immediately.”
“Oh,” Nina’s face fell. “I was hoping I would find you here when I get back from Chileka. What is so important that you have to cut your holiday short?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he replied, shifting a little so that she could sit on his lap. “What is so important that your old man wants you to go to the village for?”
“I don’t know. He did not say,” Nina spoke almost to herself as she absent-mindedly ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. “But, whatever it is, it must be important. He has never done this before.”
“Alright, well, I guess we will see each other again when you come visit. I told the guys at work that I’d be there in two hours.”
“
Okay. Wait, Onani. Flying to Lilongwe only takes about forty minutes. Why did you-”
Nina stopped mid-sentence as Onani gently pushed her onto the bed, while at the same time covering her mouth with his. His hands worked skilfully, untying the bathrobe Nina was wearing, revealing a supple body headlined by two perky breasts.
“I figured two hours gave me plenty of time for other things,” Onani said, in the few seconds his mouth left Nina’s.
She was about to say something but Onani’s mouth then went to work on her throat, leaving a trail of kisses down to her breasts. His lips tugged on a nipple and Nina could only manage a soft moan. Then Onani continued to work his way downwards and Nina forgot all about her impending trip to Chileka. At least, for forty-five minutes.
State House, Lilongwe city
“What’s the total?” asked President Moto.
“Thirty-eight, sir. All of them prisoners,” said Principal Secretary Maloto
“But, it cannot be the same person, surely. The prison is at least thirty miles from the infirmary where he was being kept and these incidents happened at more or less the same time.”
“That is true, Mr. President. But, the curious thing is, they were also branded like the others.”
“I was hoping you would not say that, Moses,” said the president, wearily. “So, what do you make of all this?”
“I believe one word would perfectly summarise my disposition, sir. Dumbstruck.”
“I am calling for a cabinet meeting. I know it seems hasty and, dare I say pointless, but I need to brief the ministers. I would like you, the Inspector General and Colonel Banda to be present.”
“Very well, sir,” replied Principal Secretary Maloto. “And, sir, might I suggest that you call President Barry again. I know I said they know as little as we do but now I’m not so sure. They probably know more than we do. At least, someone over there does. I can feel it.”
President Moto was not really listening. He was already on the phone.
4
Lilongwe city, Lilongwe district
The year was 2023 but Malawi, a developing country, was still not used to fCars. Almost everybody still stared when an individual stepped out of an expensive flying car. Only a few individuals and organisations had them. One of those few organisations was, surprisingly, the police service.
Onani parked beside a sleek, black, non-flying sports sedan then crossed the street and into Lilongwe’s tallest building.
Preferring to use the stairs, he reached the second floor in a few minutes. It was not hard to find the room he was looking for, there were already a dozen police officers standing around.
The first victim was right by the door. He was wearing a very expensive black suit, white shirt and red tie. The collar and front of his shirt were drenched in blood. His throat had been cut.
“Quite a sight, eh, Detective?” Onani spun around and almost headbutted Masina, his partner, who was right behind him.
“Came here a few minutes before you did. I don’t know if you remember this guy.” Masina pointed at the corpse by the door. “J.J. Gondwe, Attorney-at-law. The other three are his clients.”
“The other three? So there are four victims?”
“Yes,” Masina replied, moving past Onani and into the room. Onani followed. “The others were hit with what seems to be a blunt object. And, it seems they were mauled too.”
Onani froze. Mauled? In an office in the middle of the capital city? “Where was everyone else?”
“This guy was working late. His secretary was home. So was his partner. They’re both already at the station giving their statements.”
Onani sighed. “So you brought me home for a quadruple homicide. How nice.”
“Actually, you were called back from Blantyre because you know the victims. Well, these three, anyway. See for yourself.”
What Onani saw made his stomach churn. The three men in front of him had died violent deaths by the look of things. Two of them were still in their chairs while the third lay slumped on the floor, his back resting on a large bookcase. His cupped hands held his intestines, as well as part of his tongue. The other two had their skulls bashed in, one with his left eye popping out of its socket. Both had hunks of flesh ripped from their chests. Onani’s head was spinning. Masina was correct. He deduced who they were, he had arrested them once.
“So, give me a working theory, Partner,” Masina spoke up. “Who would want to kill petty car thieves and their lawyer? And, why would they brand the Roman numeral eight on their bodies?”
State House, Lilongwe city
“I am afraid I cannot help you, Mr. President,” spoke President Barry from the White House.
“With all due respect, Mr. President, I do not think you are being honest with me,” said Moto. “My country has assisted you in every way possible with regard to your spaceship situation. Now all of a sudden people start dying and are branded with roman numerals, all of which was started by a stowaway on your ship. And yet you are still telling me that you know nothing?”
President Barry spoke in an exasperated tone. “As I said, President Moto, I cannot help you. As a matter of fact, I was hoping you would tell me more about what is happening. It could help our own situation here.”
President Moto was startled. “Your situation? I do not understand.”
“The killings have started here too.”
Lilongwe city centre
She stood outside with the rest of the onlookers and watched as the bodies were brought out from the building and into the waiting police cruisers. She then turned her attention to the two plain-clothed police officers lagging behind—one tall and dark, the other slightly shorter but more handsome. They have no clue as to what’s really going on, she thought, but they will find out soon enough.
Nobody would suspect her. They had not even seen her enter the building, in spite of the CCTV cameras. And out here, smartly dressed in a grey suit, no one could suspect her of being a murderer either. She was a woman of social standing to everyone who saw or knew her. And thus it would stay. For now.
The world would know within the next twenty-four hours. The time had come. Things were about to change. The woman smiled to herself as she thought of this. Then leaving the crowd of onlookers, she went and got into a taxi. Her next stop was the city’s largest hospital.
5
Chileka, Blantyre district
Immediately after getting off the bus, Nina felt at peace. The village always had that effect on her. It was quieter than the city, with a lot less traffic and much cleaner air. She took a footpath through the village, smiling and waving in greeting to a few women who were drawing water from the village borehole. She was admiring the freshly-tilled fields near home when she met Father Fletcher.
“Come to visit your family, Miss Nina?”
“Yes, Father. And please call me Nina. Just Nina. We keep talking about this,” replied Nina with a smile.
“Alright. I have also seen your brother Mavuto here. He is in his final year of secondary school and is supposed to be in class, isn’t he? Is everything alright?”
“I am sure everything is fine, Father. Dad just wanted us all here for a day or two. He has something important he wants to tell us, it seems.”
Father Fletcher looked like he wanted to say something else but stopped himself. Instead, he got back on his hovercycle. “Well, now that all of you are here again, perhaps you’ll try to convince your father to come to church. I must leave you. I’m conducting mass for the sick this morning. I hope we meet again before you leave, Nina.”
She watched the hovercycle speed off in the direction from which she’d come, before she turned and walked the few remaining metres to her father’s compound. That white missionary is one of ours now, she thought, and he will never give up on my atheist father it seems, even though the rest of us have. She looked up and there was the atheist himself, standing outside his house staring into space. Sir Gregory looked so lost in thought that for a moment
Nina wondered if he had not recognised her. He had.
“Nina, my child. Welcome.”
“Thank you, Dad. Where is Mavuto? I need help with these bags.”
Her father called Joel instead. “I sent Mavuto on an errand. He should be back soon.”
Sure enough, Mavuto showed up just as Nina and Joel were about to enter the house. He waved at Nina but went straight to his father to give him something.
“It’s a good thing you are here, Nina,” said little Joel. “Dad is not himself. He thinks I have not noticed but I have. Something is bothering him.”
Despite the fact that Joel’s words only heightened her worry, Nina could not help but smile at her precocious little brother. Nina could also tell her father was troubled.
Mavuto was standing by the living room doorway, arms folded, staring at his two siblings. “How’s it going, Sis? Did he call you here too?”
“Yes, he did, although I have no idea why. Do you?”
“No, I don’t. It must be pretty important. He would not have called me here otherwise. I start my mid-terms next week. We all know how he freaks out if you don’t study beforehand.”
Nina pushed past her teenage brother’s tall, bulky frame and into the open air. Her father had not moved. She quietly walked over to him, but he must have heard her for he turned towards her as he spoke, “Something is wrong.”
And just as he said so, Father Fletcher’s hovercycle sped into view. And from the look on the man of God’s face, Nina could tell that all was not well.
Kamuzu Central Hospital, Lilongwe city
Onani and his partner were first on the scene. The main hospital building about a hundred metres from the gate looked deserted. But, between it and the main gate stood multitudes, most seemed to be hospital staff and patients.
Onani was out of the fCar even before Masina had unfastened his seatbelt. He asked a nearby nurse where he could find the hospital’s administrator. Though visibly shaken the nurse quickly pointed to a portly, bespectacled man with a receding hairline, clad in a dark blue suit.
“Excuse me, sir, I am Detective Limani and this is my partner Detective Masina. What is going on here?”
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