by Mark Helme
I was fascinated. Did he have a hut where he went to eat his bushmeat, or could he be feeding an escapee from an enclave? There were no other chips evident, so he wasn’t harbouring a fugitive from our justice system. I chose to visit the site of his night’s vigil before confronting him. I had no court cases booked for the following afternoon and took Gregor and Sandy with me in a drone to investigate.
We hovered over the exact spot where he’d spent the night. It was soon obvious that it would be impossible to land as the jungle was impenetrable and seemed to be on a steep slope. Savanna covered the nearby plains and we landed there. When the drone stopped whirring, there was absolute silence as the relentless searing heat drained all sound from the bush. Taking plenty of water, we headed up the slope, thankful for the shade of the trees. Xanasa guided me towards the route that Joshua had taken; it was a well-trodden path. We made quick but exhausting progress until a dilapidated mud and thatch structure appeared. We crept up, wondering what we would find. It was dark; we all switched to infra-red as we reached the open entrance to this hovel. A musty smell tinged with rotten flesh emanated from within. I heard soft snoring, and as I peered inside, I was horrified to see the shape of a warm human back with no head. I retreated and Gregor must have noted the look of dread on my face as he indicated to Sandy to look after me and entered himself.
I heard angry shouts and slaps and then Gregor laughing as he reappeared dragging an emaciated man behind him. He had deeply wrinkled skin which looked like it would have fitted someone three times his size. His skull was covered in an immense thicket of matted hair with bits of bone and animal hair woven into it. The wrinkles of his face were accentuated as white dust had settled in them. He wore strips of old scraggy animal skins tied onto a strip of leather that encircled his waist. His nostrils were pierced by a warthog tusk, and brightly coloured beads hung around his neck.
“Gregor, what the hell did you find so funny about a warm body without a head?”
“Sorry, sir. Like you, I was sure this was going to be a recently beheaded corpse, but it turned out to be a trick of the infra-red light due to this guy’s hair and the fact that he was sleeping face down in his blankets.”
Much relieved, I spoke in Elomwe.
“My apologies for disturbing you, Father. I’m the chief from Shiretown. What’s your name and how long have you lived here?”
Smiling, he replied, “You don’t look like a chief, but your huge friends seem to respect you, so perhaps you are. I am Chikosi Gondwe, and I’ve lived here through more winters than you have ever seen.”
“We wish you well, Chikosi, and have brought you some maize as a present.”
“I give you this special charm to keep you safe on your journey.”
He felt inside his animal skins and I feared something horrible would appear. It was a tiny bone, which looked like it might have come from a monkey’s hand. I thanked him and we left him in peace.
Back in Shiretown, I sent off the bone for DNA analysis and summoned Joshua. When I presented the evidence, he readily agreed to tell the whole story.
“Chikosi was the witch doctor in my father’s village at the time of Ebola. He’d always lived separate from the village in a dense thicket not far from where he lives now. The clone soldiers never found him. My father is very old now but has always insisted that I feed him as he believed that otherwise our family would be cursed and endure bad luck until the end of time. Chikosi seems quite harmless and must now be well over seventy. What should I do, sir?”
“I understand your predicament. We can’t expect you to keep making that trek every week. We must persuade Chikosi to live in a jungle area nearer to Shiretown. I wonder whether he’d mind if tourists gave him gifts in return for learning about his ancient spells and treatments.”
“I’ve no idea, but he’s lonely. I think he might like the company and to feel important once more.”
“I’ll give you a week to persuade him. We’ll build whatever structure he would like to live in and give him any food he wishes, even if he’ll only eat wild animals, but he can’t stay living there on his own.”
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Next day, the DNA analysis and report on the bone was complete. The bone was a terminal phalanx of an albino boy who had probably lived in Tanzania. They couldn’t give an accurate date but it came from the modern era. Xanasa informed me that albino children used to be captured as their limbs were believed to bring good luck. I felt absolutely sickened by the thought that some child had been murdered and I’d been given one of his bones to bring me luck!
If this man was capable of murder, I didn’t want him anywhere near my town and would have to get a conviction at CRC. I took Sandy with me.
As we climbed the steep path approaching his hut, I heard a high-pitched scream followed by the sound of something crashing through the branches of the tree above us. I looked and saw a massive mottled grey and white martial eagle with a baby monkey screeching in agony as the bird’s mighty talons tightened their grip. After a moment to regain its balance, the magnificent bird opened its wings, swooped down to avoid the high canopy and disappeared with its prey now feebly protesting with its last breaths.
Chikosi was awake this time, sitting on a low-slung three-legged stool, watching as we approached.
“I see you, son,” he greeted me.
“I see you, Father. I’ve returned to thank you for the gift and wondered how you came by such a charm?”
“I must apologise. I pretended you didn’t look like a chief yesterday, but Joshua had described the white boy who was chief in his town. So I knew. That charm cost me two warthog tusks, a fruit bat skull and a rhino horn. It will surely give you powerful good luck.”
I felt even worse as I now knew that my ‘charm’ had been the cause of the loss of a child, a warthog and a rhinoceros! At least Chikosi was no murderer, and I suspect he wasn’t even a poacher himself. I left saying that I hoped we would see him again soon.
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Two weeks later, Chikosi was supervising Joshua and his friends as they built a waterproof version of his old shack with an added window and door. Outside was a ‘long drop’ and inside, next to a platform covered in bones and herbs and various skulls and skins, was a mattress. Chikosi was beaming from ear to ear, not able to believe his good fortune. I’d assigned Joshua to be Chikosi’s apprentice and to act as interpreter for tourists who would soon start visiting him.
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Black was getting old and I dreaded the day when he would retire. One day, he warned me that trouble was brewing; his informants had discovered that there was going to be a mass demonstration in Nkhata. The people were complaining that I wasn’t ageing, and wanted the same privilege. I was thankful for the warning.
It was a stiflingly hot day and there was no shade on the football pitch where the crowds had gathered. They’d erected a stage at one end and already the ringleaders were whipping up the crowd, which I feared might turn violent at any moment. Gregor, Sandy and two other clones accompanied us as we approached the stage. The crowd started to jeer. I called for the tiny drone microphone and hoping that my apprehension wasn’t too obvious, I began.
“My friends and fellow citizens, I can understand why you’re so angry. I think I would feel the same if our situation was reversed. I didn’t choose to live so long; it was decreed by our leader, Commander Spitzen. I think that many of us like the happy sound of children running around enjoying themselves. Suppose everyone lived for a thousand years and we kept having children, the world would soon be swarming with people. Alternatively, if we wanted to keep the population stable, there would be very few children and they would have no one to play with and our towns would be full of old people.”
One of the ringleaders called for the drone and I let him speak. “There’s plenty of land; we could have more children and just build more cities.”
It was obvio
us to me that I was never going to persuade them. I looked at Black to see if he could perform one of his miracles. He looked worried and shook his head. I noticed a tall, half-caste muscular young man with surprisingly blond hair marching determinedly towards our stage. I couldn’t tell if he was planning to attack or support us. The former seemed most likely. Xanasa gave me a brief resume. “He has an unblemished record, although he did need Petratherapy to control his anger when he was a teenager. His father is in prison for murder and he did once have a dissident acquaintance.”
This information didn’t reassure me, but I had no choice as the crowd was tense and could easily overwhelm us. Hoping for the best, I nodded to Gregor who helped him onto the stage. The young man summoned the drone and his short but persuasive speech defused the anger that threatened to engulf us. Black was smiling and gave me a comforting bear hug as he must’ve guessed how frightened I was. I looked for our saviour, but he’d disappeared back into the crowd. I asked Xanasa to tell me more about the fair-haired guy. She told me that he was called Ewan and worked as a highly regarded game warden in my biggest park. I sent a hologram thanking him and gave him a small reward.
The next day, I was contacted by the Board at CRC. They felt that famine was looming in my Christian enclave. They weren’t happy with my ineffectual approach. The Board felt there was no point in trying to persuade Paul; I should appeal directly to the population. They suggested (but I knew this meant commanded) that drones drop large quantities of food in the form of soya, fish oil and milk powder to treat malnutrition. Leaflets should accompany the food drop with the following message:
This food has been provided by Commissioner Mcmanus from Shiretown. Your leader, Paul, has previously refused any assistance. If the people of the enclave agree that men should be sterilised as soon as their second child is born, you will be granted an extra swathe of fertile land in Northern Malawi.
The food and pamphlets were dropped. We could only watch. We had satellites which gave extremely clear pictures of activity on the ground. Otherwise, there was no surveillance within the enclaves.
To begin with, life seemed to go on much as before, but the food parcels were carefully collected. More drops followed. We noticed that outdoor meetings became common in the villages, and messengers were seen jogging across the land. Two weeks later, a large fire was lit near the western fence. This must have been a signal as one by one, fires like beacons spread across the land. During the following week, about a million men converged on Lilongwe (the de facto capital). Paul and his puppet parliament must have felt very intimidated. I knew what it felt like to be confronted with 50,000 people, but this must have been even more terrifying. Although I was pleased to see what was happening, I felt some sympathy for Paul and his cronies. A man wearing a type of religious cape stood in front of them and they all appeared to bow their heads in what I assumed was prayer. When this finished, they started jumping up and down like Samburu warriors. We only had visual contact, but I felt sure they were chanting. Eventually, a group of men (I think I could recognise Paul among them) came out of a brick building. Immediately, the crowd surged towards them. The terrified group fled back into the building and escaped through a back door, running for their lives.
I had to admit the CRC Board was right and felt guilty for not having overridden Paul before. Sure enough, I was soon in communication with the new leader (we allowed them one mobile phone) who said that his newly elected parliament would be very grateful to accept aid and the promise of extra land if it was still on offer.
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Ten months later, I received some surprising information derived from a routine hospital check-up on my game warden hero, Ewan. Every year, all our citizens have a health check. This includes a swab which they are told is to check for sexually transmitted diseases (STDs). In fact, there are no longer any STDs, and the reason for this swab is to test for any DNA other than their own; Xanasa then knows who is sleeping with who, which occasionally can help solve a crime of passion. The strange thing about the DNA detected on Ewan’s swab was that it didn’t belong to any recorded citizen. (We sampled the DNA at birth from all governed citizens but we didn’t do this in the enclaves.) Logically, his partner must have escaped from my Christian enclave.
I got Xanasa to check the movements of his chip. Fifteen months ago, he had frequently spent time near the fence in Nkhata Bay. During the last year, he hadn’t gone there at all but spent all his free time on Likoma Island. Even without Xanasa’s help, it was obvious his escapee must be living somewhere on Likoma.
They had to be arrested but I still felt indebted to Ewan. I wished to be present when they were captured to reassure them that they would be treated leniently. I could fully understand why Ewan had wanted to free someone from that dreadful place, but this was still illegal.
We needed to take them by surprise. From satellite pictures, I’d seen the remains of a jetty by an abandoned hotel on the southern tip of the island. It was a seven-kilometre hike from there to Likoma town where Ewan’s chip was located. Gregor, Sandy and I took a boat and landed at the jetty. Seven kilometres shouldn’t take too long. Initially, the undergrowth was a tangled mass of vines and bushes. Even though Gregor and Sandy had brought machetes, we made very slow progress. Fortunately, after about fifty metres, the canopy was so dense that little light reached the ground. Consequently, little grew besides vines attached to the trunks of the massive buttressed trees. We were able to move quickly now. Sweat was pouring down my brow, stinging my eyes, as we climbed the steep ridge. By mid-afternoon, we were only half a mile from Ewan’s chip. The darkness of the forest became jet black as heavy drops presaged a thunderous downpour. Squelching through the muddy leaf mould, we came out into a relatively open area and could just make out some ruined houses through the rain. We were now very close to his chip. I sent Gregor and Sandy around to the far side of the ruins and entered what looked like a collapsed church. I couldn’t see anyone hiding in the undergrowth that filled the nave. I made out a path which led to an old door, and when I put my ear to it, I could just detect voices over the din of the rain. I summoned the clones and as they appeared, pushed the door open.
Ewan and a very pregnant-looking woman were startled, staring at me in disbelief. They must have been shocked that anyone was out in such a storm. I couldn’t see any weapons. I watched as recognition dawned on Ewan’s face.
“Welcome to our home, sir. What on earth are you doing here?” He was obviously nervous as without waiting for an answer he rushed on. “You must be soaked through. I have a towel and some spare clothes. Would you like us to leave while you change? I’m afraid this is our only dry room. By the way, this is Miriam.”
“Thank you, Ewan. Please could my two friends come in out of the rain?”
“Of course, but I’ve only one set of dry clothes.”
“Thank you, in that case we will all remain wet together.”
Ewan’s expression turned to dismay as he watched the clones squeeze through their narrow door.
After introductions, we were soon having tea sitting in our soaking clothes on an old teak bench. I thought the whole situation was surreal. I’d never arrested anyone while dripping wet and being offered such humble kindness. It was with a heavy heart that I explained why we were there.
Ewan didn’t seem surprised. “I knew it was illegal, but if you’d seen how thin and frail Miriam was, you would appreciate why I did this.”
“I do understand. I tried and failed to relieve the suffering of your people, Miriam. I think I would’ve done exactly the same as you if I’d been in your position, Ewan. Thankfully, they have a new leader and life is now improving for them. Sadly, I have no choice but to arrest you both. I can’t try you myself as my judgement has been affected by you saving the day at the protest. The only way forward is for me to accompany you for trial at CRC. I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to get you a lenient sentence.”
>
The thunderstorm passed. Gregor accompanied Ewan in his speedboat to fetch our boat while Miriam collected their few belongings together. We all went down to the old stone jetty so that we could depart before dark.
Back in CRC AX49
I warmed to this enigmatic Welshman and his half-caste girlfriend. After arriving in CRC, I made sure their cells were comfortable and took them food that Jas had cooked. Ewan told me about his tempestuous father who he believed was locked up nearby.
“Would you like to see him if I could arrange it?”
“The straight answer is that I’m still frightened of him, and still hate him for ruining our happy childhood. Let me sleep on it.”
By the following afternoon, he had made his decision.
“I’ll see him if a clone is present throughout the meeting.”
“It would have to be after the trial and would depend upon your sentence, I guess. I’ll track him down and see what can be done.”