by Ono Ekeh
“All set, Captain,” Mali marched down toward her. The sanctuary hall was relatively empty. The worshippers had been kept out. “I don’t like this one bit, Captain.”
“The squad’s just there to ensure that the Sybu don’t spirit her away.” Her heart fluttered. Mali had always been a special friend and trusted confidant. Their time together, three weeks ago, was not their first together, but all she could think about now was how special that moment was. She hated that she didn’t recall much, but it was enough that it was him and that he was here. If only she could tell him that his seed had such vitality, that together, they had formed life. She kept her gaze focused on the throne, the Queen, and her guards—her new guards.
“Witcum?” Mali asked.
She swallowed. She’d been avoiding the issue of the former ambassador. Against the wishes of her soldiers, she returned him to his comfortable quarters and left him there under house arrest—a much more lenient punishment than what a traitor would get. He had refused to renounce his devotion to the Queen and death was now his inevitable sentence. “He’ll be dealt with.”
“Are you okay,” Mali asked. “You’ve seemed distant.”
She so badly wanted to hold him and share her secret. “I’ve been try to figure what to do about the Queen and her worshippers.”
“I say we continue to keep her under residence arrest. She’s a symbol and the more visible she is, the more dangerous the situation is. I can’t wait till reinforcements arrive.”
Senaya nodded in feigned agreement. Commander Skene had sent word that he was accelerating his travel. The battles down south had gone much better than anticipated, giving him more flexibility. He’d sent word that he’d arrive in forty-eight hours. But she knew Skene well. He like to surprise. He would be here much earlier.
IF THERE WAS A PERFECT day for a military parade this was it. Commander Skene arrived thirty-six hours from when he’d sent word. Senaya cringed at the thought of all the gasoline burned up in his race to get here. He was three miles from the Sybu regional limits. She tried to imagine the best place to receive him. Eventually, with Mali, she’d decided it was at the temple gates. There should could lead him into the temple and hope Queen Nouei would have the same effect that she’d had on her.
Her hand traced up to her stomach. “Hello, my sweet pea. My Maja,” she whispered to herself. She glanced over at Mali who was straightening his uniform. Turning the opposite way, she brushed her hand against his searching for a way to share this moment with him.
Thousands of Sybu had lined the streets. But even with those numbers, the crowd was muted and solemn. Priest Makri and others had thought to meet Skene at the border, but Senaya convinced them to remain in the temple with the queen.
She heard Commander Skene’s entourage long before they saw him. The main thoroughfare which led to the temple peaked about a mile away from the temple. And so after a few minutes of the loud rumblings of armored vehicles, the first one crested the peak and then a row of five vehicles drove down slowly toward the temple gates. She exhaled in relief knowing that now, they had serious reinforcement to respond to a near-certain Navalese revenge attack. On the other hand, she dreaded the inevitable clash between the Commander and the Queen.
As the convoy drew closer, she swallowed the last of the leaves she’d been chewing. She did feel nauseous, but it was less about her physiology and more about the situation. She stepped out into the middle of the road, knowing that Mali and the others would fall in behind her in two perfect columns. She snapped a salute and held it in place until the first of the rusty brown vehicles pulled up a few feet from her.
Two soldiers jumped out with laser rifles and full tactical gear. Pointing the rifles around they took positions around the convoy. Another set followed until there were at least twelve of them. These were an elite force and with advanced weaponry. She’d never seen them up close. They were the only known humans who could take on the Navalese in hand-to-hand combat and emerge the victor. Every single military operative was trained to shoot first when it came to the Navalese except these guys. So far, she was impressed.
“Captain Tenade!” Commander Skene’s loud voice drew her attention to the top of the third vehicle. A tall, lanky man emerged from the interior of the vehicle and climbed down the side ladder.
She maintained her salute until he was right in front of her and returned her salute. He walked through the rows of her scout force inspecting. He seemed content. He liked professionalism and that was one characteristic she never let slide. It was so easy to break character as a scout, being so far from home for so long.
“Good job, Captain,” he said, walking through the temple gates into the compound. He straightened his crisp navy blue uniform as he scanned the temple grounds. “Is the prisoner prepped and ready to make her statement?”
“Unfortunately, Sir, she’s rather firm in her claims. But we are making headway.”
“Headway,” he spat out, never slowing his stride. “You were supposed to have things ready for me, Captain. This is disappointing.”
Her heart sank at the reprimand. She hadn’t been thinking clearly. If there was any issue about getting Nouei to renounce her divinity, she should have sent word to avoid the Commander making a fool of himself. “I have established a rapport with the prisoner. I can—”
“I’ll take over from here, Captain,” he jogged up the stairs. At the entrance he looked up at the height of the doors towering over him and then down the carved arches into which the doors hinged. “Take down these doors,” he said.
Senaya looked back toward Mali and nodded. She heard him bark orders to his men. The quick patter of footsteps approached from behind the next set of doors. They opened and Makri the Priest emerged. She bowed.
“Commander Skene, I greet you in the name of the Lord. You are most welcome.” She stood in front of him and bowed.
The Commander’s eye’s narrowed as though studying her intently. He moved her to the side and proceeded through the open doors into the sanctuary.
“Commander Skene,” Makri continued, following, “If there is anything we can—”
Skene, a step ahead of the priest, pivoted in a seamless motion and threw a hard punch at Makri’s face. The hit, accompanied by a sickening crunch, dropped the priest straight to the floor.
Senaya gasped and dropped to the floor to help her. There was blood all over the priest’s face and dripping liberally onto the floor. “Makri! Makri!” Senaya called out, willing the priest to stay conscious.
“Captain,” Skene said loudly, “your sidearm.”
Senaya looked up at him. “Sir?”
“Your sidearm!”
“Sir? What—”
“Here you go, Sir!” Mali handed his to the Commander.
Senaya heard the click of the safety and pushed herself away just in time as a loud boom sounded. She shrieked at the sight of the dead priest, bleeding out through the skull. The Commander returned the pistol to Mali and proceeded down toward the queen. Senaya watched, still in a daze, as Mali and her other soldiers marched past her. Wiping her blood-stained hands on her uniform, she got up quickly and made her way back to the side of the Commander.
Skene stood at the base of the platform and regarded Nouei. She watched him in return. Her fingers gripped her throne armrests and her neck muscles moved. She was agitated. Senaya looked around but there weren’t any other priests around to attend to the queen. since all the Sybu had been removed from the sanctuary prior to Skene’s arrival, there was no one around who understood her and who could calm her.
“Why is a Jaru scout force serving as guard to this woman?” Skene pointed at the armed guards.
Senaya cleared her throat and hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. “She’s sequestered in order to prevent the Sybu from kidnapping and hiding her.”
“Commander Skene,” Nouei said quietly. The entire hall hushed at the sound of her soft melodic voice. “Do you come in peace? I most certainly gree
t you in peace.”
He watched her for a few moments. “I’ll ask once, diplomatically. Do you renounce your false claim to divinity? Do you bow before Lord Ryna, the true Lord of heaven and earth? Do you submit to the judgment of Her true representatives, the Council of Elders of the Jaru Federation?”
“I have never rejected Ryna as God. No one loves her more than I do,” Nouei said.
“Do you renounce your false claims to divinity?” He repeated his question.
“I am what I am,” Nouei said. “I can no more deny who I am than I can ask you to deny who you are.”
“Will you bow to me, as representative of the Council of Elders of the Jaru Federation?”
“I will bow only to those who love me.”
“Will you bow?” he asked. His voice taking on an edge of irritation.
“Do you love me?” she replied.
He took a breath and motioned to one of his aides. He whispered in his ear and the aide ran toward the exit and out of the sanctuary.
Skene made a slow ascent up the steps of the platform until he was level with the queen. He strolled the length of the platform studying the faces of the scout force guards but never stopping by the queen’s throne. A minute later, loud steps interrupted the silence as the aide and others returned with bags. Commander Skene stepped back as his men pulled out thick black, metal shackles and began to weld and hammer flat iron plates into the floor on either side of the queen.
Nouei looked straight ahead, avoiding the activity, but her fingers were trembling. She was agitated. Her eyes were red with tears and her facial muscles twitched. Soon the men, more than were necessary, grabbed Nouei by the shoulders and arms, while two fitted thick iron handcuffs around her wrists. From her wrists, on either side, a long set of metal chains links shackled her down to the metal plates on the floor.
“Captain,” Commander Skene said with a smile, “This is how you place a prisoner in custody.” He turned to Nouei. “Do you renounce your claim to divinity?”
“I am what I—”
Her words were interrupted by a series of thuds. Senaya then realized that Skene was punching her repeatedly in the face.
“Commander Skene,” Senaya called out. She rushed up the platform but found herself restrained by strong hands. “Commander, stop!”
Skene stopped and rubbed his bloodied hand. Nouei’s body leaned over and her face drooped. A stream of blood poured down on her blue dress. Skene pointed at one of the guards. “Your rifle.”
“No, don’t! That’s an order!” Senaya yelled.
Her soldier hesitated slightly but then handed the rifle the Commander.
“Do you renounce your claim to... oh heck, why am I wasting my time,” the Commander said. Flipping the rifle so that the butt faced Nouei’s face, he rammed it directly into the side of her face. Nouei screamed out. Skene tossed the rifle back at the soldier.
Nouei’s soft sobs grated on Senaya’s ear. She fought herself free and ran to the queen. She gasped. Nouei’s nose was broken and completely disfigured. An eye socket was clearly also broken as one eye protrude unnaturally from its base. But worst of all, Nouei’s jaw hung grotesquely causing one side of her face to droop.
“Commander, this is not the Jaru way. I object to the way this prisoner is being treated.” Senaya tried to sound as calm and objective as she could, but it was hard. Nouei’s sobs had intensified. “You, Sir, and all our leaders, have taught us to respect our enemies. We are not the Navalese, Sir. We are not savages.”
“Lieutenant Mali, I want you to remove all the doors to the temple and let the people in. I want them to see their god. Select ten, at least five of them children. We will execute ten people every day, until she renounces her divinity.”
“Yes, Sir.” Mali snapped to attention and saluted before marching away.
“Captain Tenade, walk with me.”
SENAYA FELT SELF-CONSCIOUS in her blood-soak uniform next to the Commander who seemed just as crisps as when he first arrived. He wandered with her in silence though the corridors and rooms of Temple until he found a room with a stock of beverages. He wiped out a glass and placed it on a table in front of Senaya. He then poured out a drink for her.
“Drink it,” he said, pouring himself a drink to.
She took a sip and coughed as the drink burned her tongue but then sent a cooling sensation down her throat before then spreading a fire in her chest. Skene laughed.
“I was stationed here twenty or so, odd years ago,” the Commander said.
Senaya sat stunned. “You were?”
“I know the lay of the land, the people, the beverages.” He smiled as he poured himself another glass and gulped it down. He shook his head vigorously as though trying to clear the fumes from the drink out of his brain. He sat down and looked at Senaya. “She got to you, didn’t she? You got captivated by her. You got to talk to her and she seemed so down to earth and normal. She probably made you feel really good about yourself. Special.” He picked something off his uniform. “Nouei is a fraud because she’s a master manipulator.”
“Sir, I’ve done and will continue to do my job. And then will gladly return home for any task assigned. If I’ve been affected by her, then I will undergo re-education.”
“She’s a sly one, isn’t she,” he continued as though he didn’t hear her. “Let’s see, you’re a woman... she probably told you that you were pregnant.”
Senaya gasped.
“Don’t worry,” he chuckled, “It’s what she does. She gets into your head.”
“But, Sir, have you ever wondered why the Sybu and the Navalese have so many children? Why the fertility rate is so high among her people?”
“Captain, a lot of very smart people have considered this for a very long time.”
“Maybe it’s her,” Senaya said. “Maybe she has some sort of power.”
“Of course it’s her and yes, she has some sort of power.”
Senaya felt her eyes widen, followed by a moment of dizziness. “Sir? You mean we know that she’s a powerful being?”
“She’s a unique being... powerful? Not so much.” He leaned forward. “Captain, Nouei is the reason for the extraordinary fertility rates among the Navalese and the Sybu. Believe me, we’ve tried the diplomatic approach before. She refused to extend her largess further south unless we abandoned Lord Ryna. So we tried another approach. We set up treaties with the Sybu. They gave us fertile men and women for us to intermarry and improve our genetic stock. You know what these people did?”
“No, Sir.”
“Suicide,” he spat out. “All five hundred and sixty-eight eventually committed suicide. They called it Euthanasia, a beautiful death. You know why? Because they could not bear to be forced into a relationship that did not honor their Lord. Nor could they bear that their children not know that woman on that throne. That’s how obsessed they are.”
Senaya, overwhelmed by the information, sat back in shock. “You mean our leaders know that Nouei is a god?”
“Whatever you want to call her... Look. At the rate of population expansion, the Navalese and the Sybu will become dominant in a matter of years. Every southern race and tribe will be threatened and some of us may become extinct.”
Senaya held her hands over her mouth. “You mean the real purpose of all this is to—”
“Reduce the emerging dominance of the Navalese and the Sybu. If we kill Nouei, the Navalese and Sybu lose their fertility and we even the playing field. But our goals are noble. We do want to bring all humans together and Nouei is interrupting that.”
Senaya felt her heart racing. “Sir, if Nouei is a god, then isn’t what we’re doing sacrilegious?”
“We act by divine command, Lord Ryna’s command. If she commands it, it is right.” He stood. “You’ve done relatively well. For someone who went into this without a proper briefing, you’ve done well. But you do need re-education. As of six-hundred hours tomorrow morning, you and your scout force are relieved.”
“Sir, please. No.” She stood up but stumbled before she regained her balance. “We understand the tactical situation, we’ve forced relationships. We can be very useful.”
“There is nothing to be done here that’s complicated. Nouei is going to die. The rest is just a show. You have your orders.”
TEN SYBU KNELT AT THE base of the throne platform—five young and five adults.
Commander Skene walked behind them. “Queen Nouei, The Imposter, these ten people, including children, will be executed. If you will save their lives, then kneel now, and acknowledge your pride. Renounce your divinity.”
Nouei’s eyes traveled slowly between them. She seemed to speak to each one personally but inaudibly. The intensity of her gaze was only matched by the horror of the threat. It was unthinkable down south that anyone would hurt a child—they were so few. But here they were, and the Commander was about to kill five of them. Five.
Each of the kneeling ten stared at the queen. There was no fear in their eyes, but there was something else. Sorrow. Deep sorrow. Then one of the children, a boy, began to sob. He sprang up unexpectedly, dashed up the steps and fell at Nouei’s feet.
“My Queen. What have they done to you? What have they done?” he cried.
Nouei’s chains clanged loudly as she strained against her chains, face and neck muscles taut, to comfort the child. It seemed that, with just a little more force, Nouei could rip up the chains. One of the guards rushed to the boy and kicked him in the stomach, causing him to tumble down the steps. Writhing in pain, the boy groaned.
“Don’t do that!” Another of the ten called out. “Don’t you see that she suffers.”