Beneath the Shining Jewel

by Balogun Ojetade

  “Why didn’t you contact me?” the Sharif asked, pressing his fists to his hips.

  “It’s a military matter,” Commander Dinsu replied.

  Jima rolled his wheelchair between the men. “That’s how it starts, right Commander? They’re reservists. One day late, boys will be boys. Two days and someone’s catching hell. Three, and you’re going to kick their asses. Four, and now you’re thinking you should have done something sooner. Five, and you figure it’s time to tell the Bacillus Squad.”

  Commander Dinsu sagged and nodded his head weakly.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said a voice.

  The others turned to see Digger; her eyes were locked on the Gnaw Maw, but she contained her shock. She turned to Binta. “Another distress call from Badundu’s telepath service, ma’am.”

  “Go on,” Binta said, nodding.

  “Luko Kom, of Dedan Road, did not come home from a Scribes Society meeting last night at an Azia Undo’s residence. Neither did his wife, Gia. Mr. Kom slept through the meeting and a visit to Ms. Undo’s house this morning said Mrs. Kom left late last night with another member, Bie Abbo, who dropped her off. Abbo said Mrs. Kom got out of her carriage at the end of the block by the Badundu Secondary School. Mrs. Kom has not been seen since. We asked neighbors along the block. No sign of her. Mr. Kom has been searching for her since he left Undo’s residence shortly after dawn.”

  “I know Luko Kom, Sharif Maho said. “Dedan Road is just off Market Lane. The Koms live opposite the secondary school,”

  Jima was already moving, rolling his chair over to a set of long tables.

  Mba started after him. They needed to know what they were getting into. Mba reached out, tapped Foots on the shoulder and gestured to oga’koi-koi #2. “Go wake up Toy and Dummy.”

  By the time the squad formed behind Jima, he had already laid out a map of Badundu on the table. His hood hung out over the table as his scarred fingers tapped a spot on the map. “This is Dedan Road, Sharif?”

  Everyone’s attention snapped to the exposed scars and pulsing veins on Jima’s skinless forearm.

  Maho leaned in, stared at the map and nodded.

  “And this contour,” Jima ran a finger along where topographic lines converged on the landscape. “That’s a ravine?”

  “Yes,” Maho said, leaning in and swinging his finger left and right. “It runs east and west through town just north of Market Lane. The old homes on these four roads back onto it. It goes all the way to Lowola – the wealthiest community in Badundu. There’s a little stream that runs through it in the spring. Otherwise, there’s just a series of culverts that dumps rainwater from the streets into it.

  “Lowola...” Jima repeated the name, his hood dipped; he picked at a scarred palm.

  “Captain Mba, it’s your lucky day,” Binta said, glancing up as Toy and Dummy approached. “You and your team get a second chance.”

  She addressed the gathered squad. “I want Bunseki and Biko to each select a pair of constables to form their own teams – all of you in civilian clothes, but bring your masks with you. Take a cart and follow Mba. I want you to scour the area around Dedan Road. And check that ravine. I want you to stay in constant communication with Digger. The rest of us will prep the oga’koi-koi.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Maho said. “This is my town.”

  “I want you to tell these constables everything you know about this town and that ravine.”

  CHAPTER thirty-five

  “Why aren’t we being punished?” Toy asked as they brought their horses to a stop in front of a thatch-covered house on Dedan Road.

  “Because it’s getting bad out here,” Mba replied. “Binta sensed it coming, which is why she didn’t give us the boot immediately.”

  Mba peered over his shoulder. “Bunseki, drop Biko’s team at the end of the block near the secondary school. The ravine goes along the edge of the grounds. Take your team to the main road. The ravine goes under it through a culvert. You work back toward us. Biko goes toward you and we’ll follow the ravine after we talk to Mr. Kom.”

  Bunseki nodded.

  “You know what to look for,” Mba said.

  The cart sped off.

  “Ok, I understand why she didn’t fire us,” Toy said. “But why did Binta send us on such a key mission?”

  “Two things,” Mba began. “Binta knows the best soldier is one who’s trying to redeem himself. He’s desperate to please.”

  Dummy nodded. Toy seemed to get it too.

  “Second, you send a desperate soldier like that to probe the enemy,” Mba said. “If he can’t redeem himself, he’ll never be any good to you anyway. So he’s expendable.” Mba couldn’t resist a laugh. “You’ve seen one Gnaw Maw on the hunt…wait ‘til you see twenty of the bastards coming at you. You had better redeem yourselves then.”

  “Goddess!” Dummy and Toy gasped in unison.

  “I’ll talk to Mr. Kom,” Mba said, dismounting.

  He sauntered toward the house. “You two go around the house and start relaying what you see to Digger.”

  Dummy and Toy nodded and then crept up opposite sides of the house.

  Mba marched up the walkway. The house was large and well constructed of heavy woods – mahogany and ebony – and the thatch was of Zibabwean Oki-leaf, known to have the mystic ability to keep whatever it covered at a perfect temperature – warm during the cold, rainy season; cool during Sati-Baa’s scorching hot season. The whole place looked beautiful. The gardens were groomed, the lawn manicured.

  A worried-looking man stepped out of the house. He was about fifty years old, in pretty good shape even though his belly was a bit paunchy. The thickness of his shoulders suggested he exercised regularly.

  “Mr. Kom,” Mba said. “I am Captain Mba.”

  “You’re the investigator?” Kom’s voice was gravelly, worn. “Where’s Sharif Maho?”

  “He’s busy,” Mba replied. “I’m here with two other officers. They are out back, looking around.”

  “Why would they look out back?” Kom said. “Gia wouldn’t be out back.” The man’s dark eyes glittered with desperation. “She’s a creature of habit.”

  “I hear you,” Mba said.

  “So, aren’t you going to ask me if I think she’s having an affair?” Kom said. “If we’re getting along, or if we had a fight?”

  “Were you getting along?” Mba said.

  “Yes,” Kom said, his eyes studying Mba intensely. “Are you all right?”

  “What do you mean?” Mba said.

  “You’re perspiring heavily and you seem to be gasping for breath.” Kom’s eyebrow raised. “Can I see some identification?”

  “Sure…” Mba dug into his pocket and took out his credentials. While Kom studied it, Mba caught something out of the corner of his eye. It was Dummy, down the block about five houses in the direction opposite to where he was supposed to be going. He was talking to a short man dressed in green and brown. The man had a familiar military look about him. Mba could only see the man’s back. He wore a hunting cap and he had a tiny dog on a leash – the kind of dog that people bought when they didn’t want any more children but wanted something. Dummy’s body language suggested he was excited.

  “Captain!” Kom barked.

  Mba snapped his attention back to Kom.

  “I guess that looks official,” Kom said handing Mba the parchment. “If you’re from the base, maybe you can tell me why the main roads are blocked.”

  “Classified,” Mba said, slipping his credentials back into his jacket pocket. “Just stay in your home and wait for your wife. We’ll contact you as soon as we learn anything.”

  “Well, something’s wrong. I can feel it.” Kom shook his head and shut the door.

  Mba looked down the block, but there was no sign of Dummy, the man in green and brown, or the little dog. He shrugged and crossed the damp grass to the corner of the house. As he turned it, he immediately noticed the tall line of trees that bordered the rear of t
he property at the far side of a deep, broad lawn.

  Toy knelt at the edge of the ravine looking at something. The gully sat behind him.

  Mba stomped across the grass, pausing halfway to upend his calabash for a drink. His guts jumped, but solidified around the taste and he took another swig before slipping it away.

  Toy stood up when Mba came to a halt beside him. “There are tracks of some kind in the loose dirt.” Toy pointed to where the lawn stopped along a broken edge of dark earth.

  Mba was just about to complain that the overnight rain had fouled up the tracks when a scream echoed up from the ravine.

  CHAPTER thirty-six

  Jima entered his notes on a scroll – the old way; with a pen. He did not care much for the magical conveniences of Fez. The technological ones of Kamit were okay, as long as people did not rely too much on them. His traumatized body did what it could with what was left and he welcomed any neural input that was not pain. So, he used his hands as much as possible, reveling in registered pressure and welcomed numbness otherwise. Pleasurable sensations came to him when he slept, but the dreams were phantoms of a life that was, of a man who had died.

  The information Jima wrote would be copied by Digger and sent on to Kundo for evaluation and archiving.

  Jima had talked to Mrs. Moso about her husband’s behavior before his disappearance, but there was nothing suspicious. Shanu was a financier who ran an office out of their home for a company out of metropolitan Sati-Baa. One evening he said he was going out to purchase goat milk and bread and she never saw him again. That was five days before he turned up as a Gnaw Maw in metropolitan Sati-Baa. Maho had issued a query to the constables, but those wheels had barely started turning. When adult males past the age of thirty go missing, it takes a long time for foul play to be suspected. If he had been having an affair, his sudden absence might have suggested an elopement but there were no signs indicating any exit strategy. Leaving with only the clothes on his back did not fit, especially considering his apparently positive relationship with his wife. He had no need to run away without preparation. So where was he for five days before turning up in Metro?

  The Fire Team had already bagged the Moso house and was awaiting the go-ahead for the burn. Things were happening too fast for the Tiptoe to properly investigate the property, and everyone was waiting for Kundo to start issuing burn orders.

  Jima wanted to look through Moso’s possessions for clues, but now that they had found Gnaw Maws, the nuances of the investigation were starting to look irrelevant, regardless of how crucial they might be.

  This is how it got away from us before, Jima thought. The squads were a reaction back in the day. No excuse this time. We know what it is and must be patient.

  Mrs. Moso was terrified, but her behaviors fit the normal range for a human under pressure. Jima was fairly certain she had not been infected. She wasn’t a Gnaw Maw, but there was a myriad of other ways Bacillus could still manifest.

  Iya Siju sat at a table conversing with Binta. Binta had sent the constables off on duties around the makeshift stationhouse, some necessary and some make-work. Jima knew she did not want the recruits to have too much time to think. They had all seen Bacillus at its worst and to dwell on it was to waste fear better employed in fighting it.

  Sharif sent out a warning message to all Badundu resident homes – stay inside; lock doors and windows up tight; and just enjoy family for a couple of days.

  A young resident, Sto Nyo, reported his father, N’sto, had not come home from a few drinks at the Companion Inn the night before. Sto went down to look for him and was told that N’sto left a couple of hours before dawn.

  Maho explained that N’sto Nyo was a habitual drunk and those reports from his son were a weekly affair. The Sharif said the Nyo family lived on Kuga Road. The houses on Kuga were also situated up against the ravine.

  “We’ve gone over the preliminary reports and we’re looking forward to seeing the test results,” Kundo said, relaying the message telepathically through Digger. “But we’re in agreement here that in all likelihood this is Bacillus in Badundu. I have issued orders to the forces forming the cordon around Badundu that no one is to enter or leave without my direct authorization. We’ll need samples tested on-site. Once we have that proof, we can go into full Bacillus protocol.”

  “Mau is collecting samples from the Gnaw Maw that attacked Dorn in the alley, off Market Lane,” Iya Siju assured him. “Unfortunately there is little gray matter left.”

  “Send the shop owner on home,” Kundo said – ‘sending someone home’ was squad code for euthanize. “Collect the necessary samples from him.”

  Iya Siju paused, then said: “Uh, yes, sir.”

  “We have to move fast,” Kundo warned. “Once we have confirmation, Badundu gets cleaned…Binta, are you isolating the uninfected population?”

  “Yes, sir,” Binta replied. “We have teams out where people are missing. A ravine that snakes through town looks like the hotspot. We’re going to map that top to bottom and make sure nothing can get out overland.”

  “Good,” Kundo said. “Iya Siju, I want you to rely on the veterans. They know what has to be done.”

  “Yes sir,” Iya Siju answered.

  “Kundo,” Jima said, focusing his thoughts on the telepathic conference. “We are going to protect the innocent. That is our mandate. Am I correct?”

  Kundo was quiet for a while before answering. “Up until the moment such protection in any way risks the spread of Bacillus outside of Badundu.”

  “What of the metropolitan Sati-Baa squad investigating the neighborhood around the furrier building?” Jima said, grasping for something; if Bacillus was already outside the cordoned area, then that weakened the argument for bashing, bagging and burning Badundu.

  “We found nothing else,” Kundo said. “After the Gnaw Maws attacked Mba, I gave the order to do a controlled burn on the block.” He paused. “Badundu looks like the source.”

  Jima shook his head. “Kundo, the Bacillus you found, was it the same Bacillus we dealt with twenty years ago?”

  “Yes,” Kundo said. “Why do you ask?”

  “It seems like a logical question,” Jima replied.

  Digger entered the thoughts of everyone at the table at once. “Captain Dambe,” she said, her voice trembling within their minds. “We heard screams!”

  CHAPTER thirty-seven

  “Where’s Dummy?” Mba asked, drawing his sword.

  “He went that way…east,” Toy said, pointing with his sword in the direction opposite the scream. “He thought he saw someone down there where the ravine goes through a culvert under the street.”

  Mba turned his attention to the ground at his feet. The earth was loose. He was deciding if it was worth tumbling into the gully.

  Toy leapt down the bank. “The scream came from this way.” He disappeared in the underbrush, heading west.

  “Ah!” Mba grunted, creeping gingerly down the embankment. There were plenty of tree branches and saplings to hang onto for balance. His boots slipped as earth shifted. Mud underfoot sucked at his soles. Plowing through the undergrowth was simple enough. Stopping, well…

  “Up here!” Toy’s too-pretty face appeared out of the leafy undergrowth a good fifty feet ahead. “I see something.”

  Mba’s pulse hammered in his ears. His face was hot and his back weighed him down like an iron belt.

  “Damn it!” He cried as he lost his footing. He fell forward into some broad-leaved undergrowth and hit his cheek on an arc of rusted metal and then tumbled over some rotting boards. Something stabbed his right leg and tore his pants.

  “Captain!” Toy’s voice called.

  “Hey, Captain!” another voice echoed; it was the constable with the blade-name Bun Son. He and Onisako made up Biko’s team.

  Mba winced as he got his bandaged hand under him and then pushed himself away from the wet earth and clay. Around him were broken flowerpots, clumps of stone and mounds of cut weeds. He loo
ked up the hill and saw where the stuff was heaved over from the yard above.

  “Here he is!” Onisako said.

  The bushes up the hill started to quiver and shake as the constables came pushing through.

  Mba hurried now, clambering in the junk to get to his feet. His face hurt where he whacked it on the metal and he noticed one pant leg was stained with blood.

  “Damn,” he said, staggering upright as the constables made it through the undergrowth.

  “Who’s screaming?” Mba asked, his head pounding; his face burning.

  “Sorry, Captain,” Bun Son said sheepishly. “Bunseki dropped us off at the schoolyard where the ravine stops and starts. “He left and Biko ordered us to draw our weapons. He said he was going to scout to the northwest and told us to go the other way; to follow the ravine back toward you.”

  “Biko,” Mba spat.

  “We were coming up the ravine, and we hit one of these garbage heaps,” Bun Son said. “We both fell and my shoulder slammed into a large stone…”

  “And you screamed like a little girl,” Mba said, shaking his head. He reached out for a sapling and pulled himself up the hill. The constables moved to help but he slapped their hands away. He dropped to a knee and struggled on until his pulse pounded and sweat started pouring around his ears.

  “You’re hurt, Captain,” Onisako said.

  “Really?” Mba said with a smirk. “I didn’t notice.”

  Onisako pointed at the blood on Mba’s pants. “Your leg…”

  “The hell with you!” Mba said, dragging himself upright. He pulled and heaved until he dropped on his backside at the top of the ravine. The constables stood on the slope below him looking frustrated and embarrassed.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t kill yourself,” Mba shouted at Bun Son. “I don’t know what your jobs were before, if you were constables or danced with hyenas, or what…” He held up a hand to quiet them. “And I don’t care. This is Bacillus we’re dealing with. You have to stick together and you can’t make stupid mistakes!” He stared down into the gully and then turned away and started limping toward the back of the Kom house. “Otherwise you’re Gnaw Maw food.”