He paused, staring at the Gnaw Maw. It had focused on his voice, had lifted its head and was studying him, watching with a lidless eye.
“If we apply that ratio to what we have, then there must be at least 15 bodies we haven’t found,” Jima said.
“We would have heard if that many people were missing,” Iya Siju replied. “That would also suggest a much older outbreak than Shanu Moso’s.”
“I am not suggesting that,” Jima said, picking at his scarred palm.
“Let’s not draw any conclusions,” Iya Siju said as she tapped her leather head covering. “We’re going to have help. Kundo has assembled a group of specialists in metropolitan Sati-Baa – medicine priests and tinkerers that have studied the phenomena since the First Outbreak. They’re watching through a psychic link with me and can give us objective input as we examine the victim.”
“Medicine priests…tinkerers,” Jima repeated, tilting his head forward to see past his hood so he could study Iya Siju’s face.
Mau hefted the examination kit and made his way to the cell’s door. He ran his palm over it and recited an incantation. There was a vibration and a hiss from it.
“Eeeat!” the old man, now Gnaw Maw, crooned. He fought furiously against his leather restraints. The thick material was soon smeared with blood and saliva as the creature tore at its bindings.
The leather creaked against the Gnaw Maw’s powerful exertions. Something ripped. One of the creature’s arms had come free and its fingernails slashed at the other binding.
“Eda’s womb!” Iya Siju gasped. “Mau, lock the door!” She turned to Jima. “It’s impossible. He’s in his sixties.”
“Bacillus doesn’t give a damn about age,” Jima said matter-of-factly. “It enhances strength, reaction time and physical capabilities. Elderly Gnaw Maws are prone to bone-breaks, heart attacks and poor eyesight, among other things. But until those deficiencies manifest, they are just as dangerous as younger Gnaw Maws.”
Jima heard footsteps and curious gasps as the squad formed up ranks around him to watch.
“EEEAT,” the creature howled, as it drove its fingers against the leather and tore a hole.
“Bacillus creates a cascade of aşe that increases strength,” Jima said as he watched the thing worm its free arm, shoulder and torso out of the bag. The skin around the wound on the old man’s face started to peel off his head.
Jima almost laughed when a shudder of revulsion moved through the squad.
CHAPTER thirty-two
Mba’s guts felt like he’d swallowed a fistful of sharp stones. He wanted to sleep it off but Binta denied him. Dummy and Toy were allowed to catch some shut-eye in oga’koi-koi #2 because they were just green recruits, but big bad Mba was going to be punished.
Kanan Biko volunteered to help him sober up with coffee and a shower, but Mba only agreed to coffee. Since then, Biko had been feeding him hot black cups of it to replace each one he threw up. They walked around the open door of the warehouse to let the cool afternoon air work into his system. After an hour of that, he finally managed to keep a cup down.
Biko seemed agitated. He kept trying to talk, but Mba found he could shut him up by faking a retch or gag – which often led to the real thing. He did not want to talk to Biko. The veteran nurse-maiding him was humiliating enough.
Binta had growled a few threats while Mba was still in a swoon, so he could not remember if he was fired. The fact that she had not had him escorted off the base meant she could only discharge him with Kundo’s approval, or there was no longer anywhere to send him. The roadblocks would be in place. Binta might be stuck with him.
Mba finally felt steady enough to rejoin the others. He used #1’s latrine to wash his face and gargle, and then he moved toward the Gnaw Maw’s cell. He got there just as Jima was complaining about the body count. Then the thing clawed its way out of the bag.
There were three more cages farther on. A privacy screen was set up between each, but those were not large enough to completely hide the next cage. Mba could see a terrified woman peeking out of one just 20 feet from the Gnaw Maw. For the time being, she looked sane enough. A man in a peaked cap stood outside of her cell. He wore a dark blue vest and brown pants. A club hung from his belt. That had to be the Sharif and the woman in the tank, Shanu Moso’s wife.
The Sharif raised a hand to silence Mrs. Moso.
Mba approach the gathering. He was sober enough to blunder into the conversation without shame, but drunk enough to weave a bit as he walked.
Biko did what he could to steer him on a straight course.
“You!” The Sharif barked, pointing at Mba. He marched toward Mba and Biko, who had stopped by Jima’s wheelchair.
“Still making friends, Mba?” Jima snickered.
“Go to hell,” Mba retorted.
“Who’s really in charge here?” The Sharif said, his voice trailing off as his eyes shifted from Mba, past the blood-stained cell wall to the Gnaw Maw crouched inside. “What, in the name of Daarila?!”
“I’m in charge,” Binta said from among the crowd of indigo uniforms.
“So, that’s really…is that?” Sharif Maho stepped back from the cell. “Bacillus?”
“Eeeat…” the Gnaw Maw hissed, its voice slithering through the cage’s air-holes.
The creature scurried under the gurney it was lying on minutes before. Its single naked eye watched the squad from shadow. The other eye was trapped in the ruin of skin that had peeled off its head, stretching the optic nerve into a thin, pale band running under its temple.
Mba studied the Sharif’s disgusted, yet fascinated, expression. The man was in his late thirties. He had broad cheekbones and tea-colored skin.
Maho’s attention shifted from the Gnaw Maw to the stained bandages Mba extended in greeting. He scowled, sniffed the air and must have smelled booze, vomit, or both. He did not shake Mba’s hand.
“I want to know why Mrs. Moso is being held,” Sharif Maho said. “Captain Dambe asked me to bring her out for questioning not incarceration. I was led to believe it was a military matter, but I find a damned Bacillus Squad.”
The Sharif turned to Binta and pointed at Mba. “This man’s drunk!”
“You might not want to talk down your nose to this one, Sharif,” Biko said, patting Mba’s shoulder as he stepped forward to point at the Gnaw Maw. “Especially if this turns out to be what we think it is. We’ll need every trick this old frogger has up his sleeve.” He gestured at Mba. “We all need a little something; a buffer against it.”
“That was never established as an effective defense,” Iya Siju said, removing her leather hood. “Besides, frogging was rumored to protect you from the Bacillus in your system from spontaneously manifesting…this was transferred from carrier to host.”
“We frogged for a lot of reasons,” Biko chuckled. “And we all saw constables get bitten. I got bitten. Not all of us turned.” He shrugged. “There’s no proof that frogging didn’t give some protection.”
“Sophistry!” Jima hissed over his shoulder. “Any excuse to indulge destructive personalities.”
“That’s enough!” Binta barked, marching over to Biko and pointing a finger at his face. “I will not allow this squad to frog before we have even established what is going on.” She showed her teeth. “Mba is out of line.”
For one brief moment, Biko seemed to swell with violent intent; to grow malignant, before he laughed. The laughter reduced him to human-size again. “Sure, Captain Dambe,” he said, nodding.
Binta glared at Mba.
Mba flinched, but held his ground.
“Captain Mba is out of order,” Binta said. “Causing a disruption, just as he did twenty years ago.” She cleared her throat. “He is to be ejected from the mission following his debriefing.”
Mba straightened, gathering his strength to speak his mind. “Have all you fools been keeping count? Do you see what’s going on, or are you just here to kick holes in Mba?”
“We were beginning
our investigation,” Iya Siju said, her expression showing complete disdain.
“Well, hop to it, then!” Mba said, slapping the back of Jima’s chair.
A hiss came from under Jima’s hood.
“And start counting bodies,” Mba said. “Because Jima here isn’t just another ugly face; he’s right.” He waved his hand about. “If we don’t start finding dead people, it means that everybody turns.”
He felt a wave of dizziness, so he leaned heavily on Jima’s chair.
“And then?” Sharif Maho asked.
“And then, that’s the end for us.”
CHAPTER thirty-three
“Excuse me?” A woman’s voice, muffled, came from Mba’s left. “Please…” Mrs. Moso had taken advantage of the awkward silence that followed Mba’s apocalyptic statement to slide the question across: “Is that what happened to Shanu?”
The improperly secured blind had given her a peek at the Gnaw Maw.
Sharif Maho snapped, “Let her out of there!”
And then, Mrs. Moso seemed to get it because she asked: “Is that going to happen to me?”
“No,” Sharif Maho stated reassuringly, smiling at her before turning to glare at Binta. “You’re in charge. Get her out of there!”
“Can’t allow that, sir,” Binta said.
“She’ll have to be patient,” Iya Siju said. “You’ll both have to be patient. She must be tested.”
“Damn that,” Maho said, swinging his gaze back to Binta. “I brought her in here for questioning. I trusted your authority.” He turned and took a step toward the cell where Mrs. Moso stood, wringing her hands. Her eyes bulged, but her gaze was inward, searching for Bacillus, waiting for the monster to manifest.
“It’s for her own good,” Iya Siju said, her voice rising. “For the public good. If the worst is happening, if she’s been exposed or infected, it’s possible that something can be done for her. There have been developments since the first Bacillus outbreak.”
“Developments?” Maho said, frownng. “Infected? It’s not a disease. It’s a curse; a curse from Daarila, still angry at his children.”
“What?” Iya Siju said. “Do you mean the Cleave legend?”
“It’s no legend,” the Sharif said, wagging a finger in Iya Siju’s face. “Let me enlighten you.”
He cleared his throat and began:
“The original inhabitants of the area now known as ‘The Cleave’ were the Utuchekulu – a race of dwarves – and their mortal enemies, the Rom – a race of stone giants.
The eons old war between the Utuchekulu and the Rom was one of the bloodiest in the history of the World and both sides even stormed heaven in an attempt to murder each other’s ancestors.
Daarila, Creator of Laarees and Duniyaa – the Heavens and the Earth – in his fury at the two warring races for their assault on Laarees, decided to destroy all of Ki-Khanga.
Daarila’s wife, Eda pleaded and bargained for Ki-Khanga and the lives of its inhabitants. Daarila complied, but demanded that the Utuchekulu and the Rom be destroyed. Daarila struck the homeland of the two doomed races with His powerful spirit-axe, causing a devastating earthquake that destroyed the Utuchekulu and the Rom and carved out the island mass known as The Cleave.
The raw anger and wrath of Daarila, which coursed through His spirit-axe, possessed the flora, fauna and even corpses of the two destroyed races, creating many of the monstrosities that inhabit Ki-Khanga today.
The most powerful and miscreant of these malevolent creatures are kept bound in The Cleave by the Tyrak, a powerful race of were-orca, were-dolphins and were-octopi.
The Tyrak keep the creatures from The Cleave in and would-be explorers of The Cleave out.
Charged with their mission by Eda – their Creator – the Tyrak take their duties seriously and execute them with a loyalty and zeal unmatched by anyone – or anything – on the planet.
Ki-Khanga is a world of heroes…a world of champions…a world of gods, monsters, magic and magnificent places of wonder…and the mysterious Cleave is the womb of it all.”
Mba clapped slowly.
Binta glared at him, raising her fists.
Mba stopped clapping.
“We all know the stories,” Iya Siju said. “And no one doubts there truth, but all that is wrong with this world is not born from the Cleave.”
Name one evil, filthy thing that isn’t,” Sharif Maho said, crossing his arms on his chest.
“Mba was born in Sati-Baa,” Jima said.
The warehouse erupted in laughter.
Mba glared at Jima.
“Bacillus is still in the environment, and it’s in the population,” Iya Siju insisted. “We might be seeing a spontaneous recurrence in Shanu Moso, triggered by environmental factors. Not sure what else could have started it. Bacillus – especially the skin-eating manifestation – also appeared after contact with infected body fluid from a host. It’s clear from the old man that this process is active.”
The Sharif turned to the Gnaw Maw. “His name’s Dorn Safo.”
“I understand that this is difficult, Sharif Maho,” Iya Siju said, laying a soft hand on his forearm. “I was very young during the First Outbreak, too.”
“Look!” Mba said, taking a heavy step forward and pounding on the cell wall.
The Gnaw Maw hissed.
“We don’t have time for this!” Mba said. He reached out and grabbed the Sharif’s jacket, then used his bulk to push the man against the transparent cell. “Do you need more proof than that?”
The Gnaw Maw hissed. Light glistened off exposed muscles and veins as it shrank into shadow.
“Get your hands off me!” Maho shouted, twisting against Mba’s weight. His cheek squeaked against the wall of the cell.
The Gnaw Maw attacked! It moved fast, leaping out from under the gurney and hitting the wall near Maho’s face. Its own features, torn and twisted from escaping its restraints, had peeled off over the back of its skull and hung around its neck like a collar. The Gnaw Maw’s teeth scratched at the cell wall, its nails screeched over the surface. “Eeeat!”
Maho shrieked. A dark stain grew at the front of his trousers.
Binta and Biko grabbed Mba’s shoulders and heaved him back.
The Sharif fell away from the cell and then skittered, on all fours, a few yards backward.
Mba shrugged off the restraining hands. “Sharif, you had better get in front of this before it gets on top of you. You had better change those şokoto, too.””
“Sharif, I apologize for Captain Mba,” Iya Siju said as she and constable Onisako helped Maho to his feet. The Sharif couldn’t take his eyes off the cell.
The Gnaw Maw continued to thump against its transparent wall. The wall was now streaked with body fluids and blood. Its thick tongue slipped past twitching lip muscles and licked at the clear surface. “Eeeat?” it pleaded.
“My Goddess! Dorn!” Maho sobbed, before gagging on vomit.
Iya Siju patted his back.
“We don’t have time for tests,” Mba shouted. “Bacillus doesn’t follow procedure. It doesn’t give a damn about authority.”
Maho continued to empty his guts onto the warehouse floor.
“Binta,” Mba whispered hoarsely, catching her eye. “You know what that is. We have to do something!”
Jima turned his wheelchair from the Gnaw Maw’s gruesome activities. The creature froze and watched him roll away.
“Mba is correct,” Jima said, wheeling up to Iya Siju.
Maho looked over, catching the overhead light gleaming on Jima’s scarred and glistening jawbone.
“Goddess!” He shook off Iya Siju’s hands. “It’s a…it’s!”
“That’s Captain Jima,” Binta growled. “He’s a decorated Bacillus Squad officer. Injured in the line of duty.”
Jima shrank back under his hood. “As I was saying, Mba is correct. More discussion about what this is would waste valuable time. Kundo must be contacted.”
He sensed Iya Siju
’s protest. “Iya Siju, indeed we will need to study this; but that cannot delay the obvious conclusion or the decisions that must be made now.”
There was a sudden, hard ripping sound and a splash and spray of fluids. Everyone looked toward the cell. The Gnaw Maw, having peeled up a tag of skin below its wrist, was pulling and tugging at it until the dermis peeled upward over the back of its hand and came free in a jiggling patch. Blood spattered its chest and shirt. The Gnaw Maw’s eye rolled back. Its body shook with ecstasy as it snapped the skin into its jaws and chewed.
“Eat,” it said softly, passionately. “Eeeat.”
Jima watched this and shuddered.
“We have to get moving,” Mba said. “Or we’ll all end up like that thing.”
CHAPTER thirty-four
“We must remember…the primary reason for a Tiptoe is to avoid panic,” Binta said. “Until I have orders to drop the Tiptoe, I will maintain it. We know it’s Bacillus, but we need authority to begin applying the protocols. This isn’t twenty years ago. Back then, we fought it on every front. Now, it is about containment and recovery. We can stop it here. The majority of the population needs our protection.” Binta paced before the assembled squad members. “We can minimize damage by encouraging the citizens of Badundu to remain indoors, seek a safe room and hole up until this is over.”
Mba followed a head covered in salt-and-pepper hair as it moved through the gathered constables until Commander Dinsu stepped out of the crowd. He nodded to the constables and then peered into the cell. The Gnaw Maw had torn another strip of skin off its forearm and was chewing it gleefully.
Commander Dinsu turned to Binta. “I have some soldiers who have gone missing.”
Binta stared at him for a second; one of her shoulders slumped.
That was as close to defeat Mba had ever seen her.
“How many?” Binta asked.
“Five,” Dinsu said. “Corporal Miel Tez is getting married. He was out with his friends last Saturday – getting drunk off base. They were due back at midnight.” He shook his head. “It’s a serious breach, but the five in question are reserve soldiers. Things always come up with reservists. I was going to give them hell when they got back.”
Beneath the Shining Jewel Page 10